#hero is so good at stairs

[metamorphosis-ask]

ow.

[sugarandice3]

Nothing like reading fanfiction for hours to pass the time in an airport.

[selfoe]

the therapy scene (if you let ortega convince you to go) for shepherd never fails to make me lose my mind completely

[angel-sweets666]

Domestic head cannons and mini fic with katsuki bakugo<3

Katsuki bakugo x reader

just some cute little head cannons to make people feel better about the fanfic I wrote not 20 mins ago🎀

He will lay in bed and just watch you sleep, just because he’s loud and normally mean doesn’t mean he doesn’t wanna be gentle for once and watch his baby sleep peacefully:((

If you make his lunch for work before he goes off for hero duty he will be forever grateful, I mean you just showed how much you care about him by making him food!

will 100% ask for kids once you two are a little older, around 25 maybe

helps with the chores no matter how busy he was that day.

He loves a good cuddle on the couch

“I’m home dumbass!”

doesn’t mind if you become a stay at home partner to look after the home, he makes a ton off hero work.

Came home with a cat one day from work and you two named him dumbass because he bangs his head into things, bakugo regularly compares him to Izuku.

will sit there and help you fold clothes while you tell him about your day

if your afab he will do all the chores and let you rest while on your period

showers and baths together when he can, he’ll let you wash his hair while he lays on your chest in the bathtub but he grumbles about doing it himself even though he loves it

Regularly has to go find little things off his hero costume because 9/10 you’ve stolen his mask or his shirt off the costume

doesn’t realise dumbass the cat is a girl and then panics when she goes into heat and starts meowing everywhere and does that weird pose (iykyk)

“*NAME* WHY IS DUMBASS PUTTING HER ASS IN THE AIR THIS IS SO WEIRD”

plans proposing to you with kirishima, he wants it to be perfect

Bakugo opened the door, the hinges squeaking “dumbass I’m home!” He called out, no malice behind his normally rude nickname. You rushed down the stairs, the sound of your feet on carpets next to the jingles of a cat collar. The little white cat peeking its head past a wall to check who was at the door before you walked past and hugged bakugo “I got take out” you grinned “shit where was my hello?” Bakugo smirked down at you, before you pecked him on the lips “hello katsuki”

[steddieprompts]

Another mini fic. cutesy. Eddie is an idiot. 1880 words.

Thanksgiving, 1986.

Eddie smiled into the phone as Joyce listed off all the people who were going to be at their early Thanksgiving.  “Argyle is flying in from California, and Dustin is bringing his mom.  You and your uncle should come! The more the merrier!”

“That sounds great, Mrs. Byers.  We’d love to.”  Eddie replied.

“Oh good!  Remember, Friday at 3:30, we’ll eat at 4:30.”

“We’ll be there.”

Eddie hung up the phone and left a note for Wayne.  He wouldn’t be home until 4 in the morning.  Eddie was sure he would have something to say about it.  “Ain’t got nothin’ to bring,” or “Three’s a crowd, not sure what to call twenty.”  But he would go. Hopper would have a glass of whisky for him, and they would sit out on the porch after dinner swapping war stories.

What worried Eddie more was his… situation with Steve.  See, earlier in the week he and Steve had gone to the movies.  They had had a nice time, a really good time, even, and for a few months Eddie had sensed something building between them.  He just couldn’t believe it was anything close to what he deeply, deeply hoped for.  He was so in his head about it that after the movies, when Steve dropped him back at the trailer, Eddie panicked.  Acted like a virgin idiot, really.  Steve had parked the car, glanced up at the dark trailer before turning towards Eddie.

“I had a really good time tonight.”  He had said.

“Uh, yeah, it was nice.”  Eddie replied, tense in his seat because he could sense something coming from Steve.

“Yeah, nice.”  Steve mused and then Eddie made the fatal mistake of looking at him.  Steve was sort of leaning towards him, elbow on the armrest between the seats, head tilted ever so slightly, eyes soft.

“Yup!”  Eddie squeaked out and then grabbed the door handle, throwing the door open and tripping out of the car like he was being chased by the devil.  “We should, uh, do it again sometime.  Bye!”  He bumbled out before slamming the door and launching himself up the porch stairs and into the trailer.

He hadn’t really talked to Steve since.

+++++++

So, that Friday, when he and Wayne were welcomed into the Byers’ home, he wasn’t sure what to expect.  Wayne was immediately pulled away by Hopper and a glass of whiskey, leaving Eddie to shuffle awkwardly towards the living room.  Once the kids saw him, he had something to keep him occupied, until all the hugs were given out and Nancy brought him a drink.  He hadn’t seen Steve yet.

“Uh, where’s Max?  Not here yet?”  Eddie asked as he accepted the drink.

“Oh!  She’s with Will and El in the kitchen.  They’re helping Mrs. Byers with the cooking,” Nancy explained.

“I should go say hi.”  Eddie stepped away from the living room towards the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks when he got to the threshold.  There, next to Mrs. Byers at the stove, was Steve, with his knit, red sweater and a towel over his shoulder, like some sort of Christmas romance movie hero.

“Eddie’s here!”  He heard Will say before he could tear his eyes away from Steve, who, of course, turned around as soon as he heard Eddie’s name.  Bemused, he watched a smile spread over Steve’s face before Will enveloped him in a hug.  A hug that Eddie graciously returned.

“Sir William, it is an honor to be welcomed into your abode.” Eddie said with a little bow, before hugging Max and El.

“Eddie!  We’re so glad you made it!”  Joyce said from the stove as Eddie took another few cautious steps into the room.  “Is your uncle here too?”

“Uh, yeah, he’s with Hopper tending the fire,” Eddie relied, “Thank you, again, for having us.”

“Of course, sweetheart!”

Eddie chanced another look at Steve.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve said, eyes warm, easy smile.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie replied.  Maybe he hadn’t totally fucked everything up as much as he thought.  But Steve seemed quiet, reserved. Maybe he had.

“I think about ten more minutes!”  Joyce said, pulling the turkey out of the oven.  “I need Hop to come carve the turkey.  Hop!”  She yelled out into the noisy living room.

“I’ll go find him, Mrs. B,” Eddie volunteered before ducking out of the kitchen… and right into Robin.

“You.” she said, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Uh, hello to you too, Bobin.”

“What the hell did you do to Steve?”

Eddie’s heart dropped into his shoes.  “I… what? Nothing!”

“He’s been mopey for the past five days!  The last thing he did was go to the movies with you!”

“I swear!”

“Did you say something about his hair?  You know his last haircut didn’t really go the way he planned.  Or was it the movie?  Did you tell him you didn’t want to see Hoosiers?  Because you know how much he wanted to see that movie.”

“No! Buckley, we saw Hoosiers! And I didn’t even notice his hair.  Look…”  Eddie let out his breath in a huff.  “Just hold on.”  Eddie moved from the hallway to the living room so he could see Hopper.  “Hey, chief?  The missus needs you to carve the bird.”  Hopper nodded to him and Eddie turned on his heel to go back to his conversation with Robin, only to come face to face with the woman herself.  It was a miracle he didn’t spill his drink down her shirt.  “Ok, look, come here.”  Eddie murmured, dragging her off into a corner of the hall.

He took a sip of his drink and steeled himself.  “Ok, I might have, maybe, panicked, a little when he dropped me off,” Eddie mumbled out.

“You what?”

“Look, you can’t tell anyone, but I’ve got this stupid… fat… stupid crush on Harrington and I might have, like, freaked out about it.”

“…you what…”

“I know it’s stupid! But he looked so… soft! And just.  Like he might have, I don’t know, wanted to kiss me or something, but there is no way that could have been what was happening, but my stupid primate brain thought it was, so I bolted, Okay?  I’m not proud of it. It probably came off as weird and rude and that’s probably what got him all twisted up.”  Eddie took a deep breath after his rant, and then a sip of his drink, watching Robin’s face cycle through uncountable emotions.

“Edward, I say this with the utmost sympathy as well as disrespect.  You, are an idiot.”  And with that she left him blinking in the hallway.

Eddie thought about those two little sentences throughout the entire dinner.  An idiot?  He knew he was an idiot, but why?  Because he thought Steve maybe liked him?  Or because he didn’t kiss Steve?  What the hell did she mean?  Not to mention Steve was across the table from him and every time Eddie looked up, Steve would look away from him like he had been staring.

“Eddie!”

“Huh?!” Eddie tore his eyes away from Steve to look at Dustin.

“I was asking if we were still on for our campaign next week.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m almost done.  Just need to iron out the kinks.”  Eddie replied, feeling Steve’s gaze burning into the side of his head, but when he looked back Steve’s eyes were back on his plate.  He had been uncharacteristically quiet when Eddie was in the kitchen.  Was he mad at Eddie?  No, that couldn’t have been it; he gave Eddie that smile that nearly made him forget where he was.

Steve was being cautious. Guarded. So unlike himself.

Eddie really had screwed up.

“In the drama room?”  Eddie heard Dustin say, distantly.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie answered, eyes not leaving Steve, who kept glancing up at him.

He had to fix this.  He wanted the old Steve back.  Wanted more than that, if his luck was with him.

After everyone had eaten and Mrs. Henderson was bringing out the pies, Joyce started to gather the plates.

“I’ve got it, Mrs. B.  You sit.”  Eddie said, standing and gathering the plates around him.  “Stevie, you wanna help me with dish duty?”  He asked, sending up a little prayer to the universe that his stupid, little, half-baked plan would work.  Steve nodded and started gathering the plates on his side.

In the kitchen, plates stacked high on the counter next to the sink, Eddie stood with his hands in the soapy water, the sound of his extended family floating in from the dining room, and Steve next to him with a towel in his hands, drying the dishes Eddie handed him.

“About Monday night…” Eddie started hesitantly.  He saw Steve freeze next to him.  He kept his gaze on the dish he was washing. If he looked at Steve he might choke again.  “I… Shit, I don’t know what happened. I just… well I thought maybe there was something, I don’t know, between us.  But I’m not good at reading those signs, ya know?  Not much experience.”  He heard himself chuckle wryly, before clearing his throat.  At least Steve was unfrozen, listening and drying a casserole dish.  “But it’s not about that, not really.  I shouldn’t have just… bolted like that.  I can’t pretend to understand what was happening, but whatever it was, that was a pretty shitty reaction on my part.  And I’m sorry, Stevie.” 

He kept washing the dish in his hands, watching out of the corner of his eye as Steve put the casserole dish down.

“Eddie, look at me.”  Eddie turned his head, meeting Steve’s gaze.  His warm, gentle, beautiful gaze.  “it’s not all your fault.”

“Oh…”  Eddie let out a little noise.  That didn’t answer any of his questions, but he couldn’t look away.  He couldn’t look away as Steve stepped closer.  Couldn’t look away as Steve took the dish out of his hands and gave him the towel.

“Come on,” Steve said, nodding over his shoulder towards the back door.  Eddie quickly dried his hands and followed Steve outside to the back porch.  The air was frosty, the lightest dusting of snow on the handrail and tiny flakes dancing in the dim porch light.  “I should have…”  Steve settled his hip against the porch rail, looking down at his nails.  “I should have been more up front with you.”  He said, finally looking at Eddie.

Shit.  Steve was going to try to let him down easy.  He knew he read it wrong.

“I really, really like you, Eddie.”  What? “And I’ve never really felt this way about a guy,” What?? “Let alone a friend.  And I’ve been so scared of ruining what we have.  I should have just told you.” Excuse me?

“Wait.”  Eddie let out a little, exasperated laugh, reeling it back in when Steve winced. “Stevie, you like me?”  Steve just nodded.  “Did you really want to kiss me? Monday night?”  Steve nodded again.  Eddie took a steadying breath, “do you still?”

There was a pause… and then…

That soft, warm, smile that made Eddie feel like he was made of sunlight.

“Yeah,” Steve barely got out before Eddie launched himself at him, cupping Steve’s cheeks, kissing him until he knew that smile by feel alone.

Happy Thanksgiving.

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: implied and/or present elements of dubcon/noncon, yandere, kidnapping, captive reader, quirkless reader, mentioned death of important character, discrimination, drawn comparisons between quirklessness and disabilities, implied bakudeku, drugging, needles, mentions of hypochondriasis, also angst

♡ manga spoilers in a way, but also not really. anyway, read at your own discretion.

♡ gn reader

Sharp crimson eyes assess the fresh scrapes and swelling ruining your soft skin. A deep scowl on his face.

“Tch—look at all this…” he grumbles disapprovingly to no one but himself—too upset with you to acknowledge you, yet treating you no different than if you were glass. “These are gonna last weeks.”

You’d tried running away again—tripped and slipped up all on your own, stumbling through hallways and tumbling down stairs in your panic, only to stop short at the locked door—bolted and padlocked beyond all sane reason.

He was disappointed with you, sure. But that’s not the reason for his current anger.

“Sit there while I get bandages,” he orders, getting up from his crouch, pointing a strict finger at you in threat. “Dare move, and it’ll be bed rest for a whole ‘nother week.”

Bakugou’s obsession with your quirkless nature started a couple of months ago…

It was okay at first—he was hardly the first person you’d met who addressed you with patronizing resolve—but he got weird about it quickly.

You worked at another hero agency he was going to be collaborating with for a big upcoming mission. You weren’t a sidekick or anything grand like that, but a simple pencil-pusher—because they need those too, you know? And you liked your job. You got to work along with some of the greatest heroes in the world, see them up close, and help them out with those things they didn’t have time for—paperwork like budget justifications and incidence reports. Yeah, you might have been somewhat of a pushover, but hey, the salary was good, the environment was lively, and even though you don’t have one yourself, you got to see some really amazing quirks in action. It was, out of what you could hope for, your dream job.

The place was in a real buzz when they heard the number one hero would be joining them for a couple of months. You were excited, too—it wasn’t often your smaller agency would undertake big missions—especially not ones that required such big hero names.

DynaMight wasn’t one to share much of anyone’s enthusiasm. He was strict and down to business and otherwise had a major pet peeve for unnecessary rabble loitering around. He’d stopped mid-meeting at the sight of you, seeing as you were obviously no fieldworker, and had gone as far as to demand you tell him your value as if your presence had been some big distracting nuisance.

Luckily, your Pro-Hero coworkers had stepped in on your behalf and told him you were a transcriber keeping track for later reference. It was probably only a slip-up that they’d added the fact that you were quirkless.

You don’t hold it against them, or well… you did a little, but you couldn’t really blame them either. Evoking the explosion hero’s rage must have made them flustered and desperate to play any sympathy card available to them in the spur of the moment.

Of course, it wasn’t their card to play, nor would you ever have played it yourself, but if the humility was worth anything, it successfully managed to calm the top hero down. Actually, he didn’t say anything for the rest of the meeting. And if you hadn’t been so busy taking notes, you would have noticed his lingering stare.

A couple more incidents had occurred in the office after that. Among others, he’d caught an incoming paper airplane your coworker had thrown your way—stepped right in out of nowhere and cremated it with a controlled explosion before it could hit you.

You’d been speechless for a moment—the entire desk area along with you—confused by his strangeness and, at least in your case, even somewhat appalled by his utter lack of consideration—in your office space, no less. Seriously, top hero or not, you can’t just barge in and incinerate stuff?

“That was an important document,” you'd informed—brow quirked—no regard to how offending him could probably make grounds to have you fired. You'd only slightly regretted it after having said it. But geez, you thought—shouldn’t the top hero have some semblance worth of self-control?

“You shouldn’t be playing around,” he'd stated—tone just as sour as the stink of burned paper tainting the air. “Someone might get hurt.”

You’d almost scoffed at him but had held your tongue until he walked away.

Back then, you’d thought it was an offhand insult directed at you and your respected coworker—that the explosion hero had just called you both unprofessional to your faces, like the biggest scumbag to ever walk in through your humble doors. But looking back at it now, you realize he probably might have meant it in its most sincere regard.

His over-protectiveness knows no limit, you’ve learned—calling it patronizing would be a joke in comparison. He treats you as if anything in proximity might make you shatter by association—like a bubble made from the most thinned-out solution of water and soap.

You’d woken up in your well-prepared pillow room shortly after your agency’s collaboration with DynaMight had ended. It didn’t take long for you to piece together his sickness after that.

At first, you’d thought it was a more severe case of benevolent discrimination. After all, most people treat you with some amount of pity after being privy to your being quirkless—treating it no less than a disability of sorts.

But Bakugou’s view of you was increasingly more unsettling than that—suffering from some type of delusion that has him fully convinced you’re utterly inept without him.

In some odd ways, it would have been better if he was just faking—if he was doing it all, treating you as an inferior for some sick sense of deriving his own sadistic pleasure. But no, you think he actually fully and whole-heartedly believes you’re a danger to yourself and that anything, if not monitored in the perfect conditions of the controlled environment he’s established for you, will result in your fatal illness or harm.

He’s a full-sworn hypochondriac concerning you—even as he himself dregs home some of the worst injuries you’ve ever seen as if it were nothing but a splinter in the rough of his worn soles. Meanwhile, he’s scared that if you leave the bed without socks on, it will give you pneumonia.

You were sure you had a couple of control freaks at the agency, but nothing measures up to Bakugou’s mania. How he dresses you is one thing—how he feeds you is another. An assortment of pills first, all vitamins and supplements, a spoon of cod liver oil, then a balanced meal reminding you of those tragic trays you’re served at the hospital—four times a day without fail—breakfast, lunch, dinner, then supper—he also keeps track of all the water he’s decided you need to drink—all things perfectly regulated according to your size and age.

Then there’s the sleep schedule with a set number of eight hours—no more and no less. Exercise is also necessary—workout plans designed and dictated by him. Nothing too severe, though—he’s afraid your quirkless constitution won’t be able to handle anything beyond thirty minutes max.

And then, of course, there’s hygiene.

You sobbed and fought hysterically the first time he’d washed you—in the tub with him after he’d stripped you naked. In fact, you’d made such a fuss he’d had to fetch a sedative.

Even in your drowsed state of complete numb delirium, you’d still heard how he’d fretted over it—the tiny needle hole he’d torn in your arm—as if that was the real violation, even as he’d thoroughly molested the entirety of your body with different cloths and sponges for no shorter than a full hour.

You’d been terrified, of course—horrified by his meticulous routines and odd nature. Yet strangely, despite his rigid rules, he won't ever get violent to enforce them.

You had expected it of him—being known for his brutality—the hero without mercy—the symbol of retribution. You know he's no stranger to leaving the battlefield bloody. But with you, he won't so much as harm a single strand of hair from your head.

He will instead bargain with you, sometimes for hours. Eat what he tells you, and you’ll watch a movie afterward. Go to sleep, and he'll escort you out to see the sun for a few hours in the morning. Let him ensure you wash correctly, and he’ll allow you to dry and dress yourself.  

And in those moments when you leave him no other option, he subdues you through the help of a needle again and never ever by manhandling you—it was as if that weren’t even a viable option. It was obvious he regarded the sedative as the uttermost last resort, always muttering on about chemicals and whatnot under his breath. It seemed he would rather avoid it at all costs—but also, that if it stood between allowing the disturbance of the schedule he felt was needed to keep you healthy and forcibly putting you to sleep, he knew without a doubt which option he considered the lesser evil.

He was certain of it all. And at some point or another… you had even begun sharing his fear of attracting some sort of illness yourself—even something so small as a common cold. But no, it wasn’t the same. Yours was not a fear of the actual disease itself but of what he might do if he caught you sneezing and coughing. You could only imagine the upgraded pill table he’d have in store for you then and what other measures he’d instill due to his excessive ideas of necessity.

And that’s why you’d tried running again even after what must have been a couple of months since the last time. The thought of his inane insanity having affected you so badly you’d started playing along was all too much a painful realization—you’d felt compelled to reject it—run away even when you knew you’d never be able to make the door open if you could even reach it.

You knew it would be in vain, and even though running headfirst into something you know isn’t going to work might be the first signs of madness—you’re still relieved to have found some remaining worth of fight still in you, even if it couldn’t amount to anything.

He comes back as quickly as he’d left, still muttering to himself, cross about the damage you’ve sustained—like you’re one of the collector’s items he keeps up on the mantle in his office—green costume and a big bright smile. You remember the exposés—they’d been rather gruesome, about the hero who’d died in battle not so long ago—a couple of years back now, give or take. He had the number-one spot before DynaMight.

The current top hero retakes his spot at your feet, sighing deeply once he starts dabbing your minor bruises with disinfectant, followed by unnecessary bandages. You’re silent as you watch him work—all so diligently as he does everything, cutting no corners and running zero lights.

His efforts, done with the very epitome of care, all disgust you.

Your lip curls. “I’m not what you think I am…”

His keen glare stops obsessing over your wounds to look up at your face—he’d already tended to the ones he could see, but he’s sure more would blossom and swell in a couple of hours. It’s beyond worrisome—but it’s his fault in any case. He should move you to a place without stairs—it’s way too dangerous for someone as accident-prone as you.

You make eye contact, and his anger fades at the sight of tears welling in your corners—softening as if he’s convinced even a harsh look will have you shatter in his hands.

“I’m quirkless. But ’m not weak.” You’re sure you preached much of the same back at the beginning of your stay, though then you’d hurdled it at him—screamed it from the top of your lungs until you’d lost your voice, unknowing that it’s a statement he’s heard a hundred times over spoken by different lips from yours.

It’s a funny thing almost… how your eyes remind him of his—so soft and yet brimming with determination—a determination that will only get you killed.

He’d put faith in those words before, believed them beyond himself, and it had cost him everything.

But even so, he can’t fault you for believing in them yourself… they’re what makes him love you, after all.

He smiles gently—a most gut-churning sight from the all-scowling man.

“I’m sure you think so.”

He doesn’t relay it with any type of harshness but pity—gross concern and better judgment—overwhelming oodles of it in his garnet eyes, weighing them down with something so awful as compassion and… you don’t exactly know… but it looks like grief.

♡ part two ♡ more thoughts on this ♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; pwp, fem + afab!reader, dubcon (reader is drunk af), dirty talk, rough-ish sex, the liiiightest yan undertone. 18+

✮ a/n ; im not a kiri fucker but i . had a thought in the shower

Kirishima fucks like he has something to prove.

That part of him hasn't changed, you think. It's a bad time to be reminiscing about such a thing, especially since your brain can't think of anything other than how good it feels to have such a thick cock buried in your sore, weeping cunt.

Kirishima has stopped briefly, just to bottom out and press his navel to your sex - so your brain has a little space to think. You don't know exactly how you've ended up here after thinking about it for a long time. The alcohol is making your head feel fuzzy and your lower half is weak, might melt into Kirishima's nice king size bed if you're not careful.

An hour ago, you had come off of work and joined some friends in an izakaya. Kirishima was there too, seemingly with his own friends. You hadn't seen him since middle school, when he shorter and more negative. You had a crush on him then, back before all the hero stuff.

It was refreshing to see a boy your age obsesses over something like being a perfectly chivalrous man. You were friend though not closely, and had a dopey school girl love affair that never came of fruition. You didn't speak to him after that, weren't close enough to ask - and watched him grow into a hero through televised events and news.

He's a pro now. He was much bigger than you thought he'd be. You didn't think men could get that big, unless they played basketball or something. He was shorter than you in middle school but when you saw him again in person, he was double your height. You had to crane your neck up just to get a good look at his face. Defined jaw and rugged, boyish charm that made your cheeks warm like you hadn't grown out of being a girl.

You thought he wouldn't recognize you since he's basically famous now, but he did. Flagged you down and whisked you away for drinks and catch up time. Your friends pushed you to go, so you did. You drank and spoke about nothing in particular and Kirishima seemed so enraptured with you - you thought the alcohol had fried your brain. Thoroughly tipsy and giggly, you admitted to having a crush on him in long and unnecessary detail. That you liked him, and seem to still if this feeling is anything to go by.

You hadn't expected anything of it. But he kissed you in the corner of the bar and asked if you had anywhere to be, hauled you into a taxi when you said no and made out with you on the way home. Put his hand underneath you shirt and squeezed your waist, said something about how cute you are. Always have been.

No one seemed to think anything of it when you left. Pro-Hero's escort drunk girls all the time, but you wonder if it's normal to fuck them? You wonder if Kirishima has practice in bring home drunk girls who are too big for their boots and too needy to be anything but sincere.

He's so good at fucking you, you aren't sure you'd mind that being true. Not like this.

He didn't give you any time to adjust to what was going on, every breath had him chasing more of you like he'd run out of time if he didn't rush. He carried you inside, licked your pussy while you laid against his kitchen counter and finger fucked you until you could take all eight inches of him. Was he always this relentless? You know he was never kind, no matter how much he seems it. He was always critical and cunning, but you didn't expect him to be so ruthless.

He doesn't let you off of his cock after he gets you on it. Makes you wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you barely can because he's so big. Makes you wrap your legs around his waist and tells you to hold tight as he walks you up the stairs with his cock still twitching. The whole thing makes your eyelids burn with pleasure, your body yearning to keep him inside of you for as long as you can stay conscious which is barely when you're this wasted.

He dropped you in his bed and fucked you in missionary. You think in the span of a few hours, you've spent more of it feeling his cock throb inside of you longer than you've spent without. He's too big, and fucks mean. There's no chivalry in it, just pure primal desire behind weight and heavy thrusts that make you gasp involuntarily.

You haven't stopped cumming. You've never done that so much in a row. Your body feels nearly numb as you think on it. He's been keep you like this for so long and the alcohol is making you lightheaded. You can barely understand what he's saying except that he's loved you for so long. You wonder if that's true. Your pussy likes it though, clenches every time he groans into your neck after the headboard hits the wall with his thrusts.

He fucks you like he wants to prove something to you. You don't know what exactly. You're drunk and floaty and you can't stop cumming and you can't think of anything other than how much you want him to fuck your brains out. How much you want him to cum, so deep in your pussy you'd have to push it out to get rid of it. How much you want to cum around his cock until you get so fuckdrunk you pass out on it.

A little pleasant catching up and now you can't unfurl your spine from the way it's raised, and your toes hurt from how tight they've curled. You feel ditzy with it. Didn't know cock could make you cum so much you turn stupid and babbling. It's all you've been doing and Kirishima doesn't seem to mind it all. Just laughs at your nonsense words and kisses you with sharp teeth and fucks you.

And fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, with your knees to your ears and your eyes blurry and hazed.

"Kirisihima-kun," You gasp at him, breathless and hot.

"Eijirou," He corrects with a nip to your mouth. "We won't leave each other now. Not anymore."

He punctuates with the promise with a thrust so deep you can't do anything but agree. You wonder if all this is trying to prove his love for you, but how you could that be true? It's been years.

Another thrust makes your lower belly clench, and something squirts out of you mid thrust. You're too hazy to feel self-conscious of it and Kirishima only laughs.

You close your eyes and let him have you. Again and again and again.

[moonstonejpg]

support (k.bakugou x reader)

cw: pure fluff, kiri and denki being the best wingmen in the world, oh also ua is a college not a high school bc i said so

bakugo is my comfort character i love him sm and want to protect him at all costs ♡

If he didn’t know any better, he would think the sudden pounding of his heart meant it was acting up again like it did occasionally after Edgeshot revived him, because Katsuki Bakugo didn’t have crushes. And despite it being a natural part of life, it freaks him out a lot more than he’d care to admit. Because Bakugo has always had the same plan, get into UA College and become a top ranked hero; nowhere in his plan did he account for the girl with a heart of gold in the support course.

“Katsuki!” You call, arms full of some unknown material as you jogged towards him. You had a bright smile on your face, and your eyes were lit up with excitement. He couldn’t help the fond smile spreading across his lips as he gazed down at where you skidded to a stop in front of him.

“I did it! Here—hold this please.” You shove the item in your arms towards him, hands animatedly waving towards the different places on as you explain. It took a few moments for Bakugo’s mind to catch up to what was happening in front of him, but once it did his gaze snapped up to meet your eyes in shock.

“—and so, basically, you put this on under your hero suit and it absorbs the shockwaves from your blasts, turning it back into itself to heat your muscles.”

He blinks, his thoughts spinning to the conversation from last week when you had caught him sitting on the rooftop of the college. Instead of leaving, you plopped down next to him, starting a conversation after a few hesitant moments.

“I know you love your quirk, and honestly I do too!” you giggle, a light blush dusting your cheeks. “But if there was something you could change—or well, something to help, what would it be?”

He cocks his head to the side, mulling over your question; he wants to give you a good answer, an honest answer. So, he dips into the vat of his insecurities, unearthing a small secret he’s never shared with anyone.

“I—when I use it too much my arms and shoulders start to ache, and even if I pause to conserve my energy it seems to just leak out and then…eventually both body parts end up going numb. It’s been happening more frequently now that we are training longer, and it—it sucks to be quite honest.”

You pull your knees up to your chest, eyes fixed on a distance point on the horizon. He glances sideways at you, noticing the indent between your eyebrows. Your tongue pokes out, and he realizes this is your thinking face. He’s amazed that he can see the wheels turning, and wonders what’s going on in your brain.

It’s silent for a few moments, before you jump up, an excited gleam in your eye. You start to leave, pausing to turn back to him, your face now serious. “I won’t tell anyone; your secret is safe with me.”

He nods once, and the seriousness evaporates as you smile at him, then disappear down the stairs.

“Was…is this okay?” You ask suddenly, the excitement in your eyes dimming slightly as he stared dumbly at you, not a single word leaving his lips since you handed over the gadget. “I—I just thought that—I can take it back!”

“No, I—"

“It’s okay! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. I had just thought…well, either way it doesn’t matter.” You reach your hands out to take the thin fabric back, but he holds it above your head, forcing you to stop and look at him in surprise.

“I love it, you just—you surprised me is all.” He mumbles, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “I wish I could do something to thank you, something other than just standing here looking like a fool.”

“I don’t need anything from you, really! It’s, well, it’s a gift.” You reply quietly, twisting your hands together then shoving them back behind your back. There’s a light pink stain on the apples of your cheeks, and Bakugo gets the alarming urge to kiss you. Instead, he fists the cloth in his hands and lowers his arms, cradling the material to his chest.

“Thank you.” He whispers, still in shock that someone would do something like this for him.

You nod once, a soft smile on your face as you turn and leave the hallway, his eyes not leaving your back until you’re just a speck at the end of the corridor.   

Hours later he’s still thinking of the exchange; feeling incredibly stupid for not asking for your number at the very least. He’s supposed to be helping Kirishima and Kaminari study for their exam in the library, but how could he possibly do that when all he wants to do is replay your smile over again on a never-ending loop.  

“Bakugo? Hey, Katsuki!”

Fingers are suddenly snapping in front of his face, effectively ripping him from his thoughts. “What?” He grumbles out, smacking Kirishima’s hand away from his face.

“What’s up with you lately, dude?” Kaminari asks, raising an eyebrow.

Bakugo doesn’t respond, distracted by the familiar girl at the far end of the rows of books.  

Kirishima throws his elbow into Kaminari’s side, rolling his eyes at the huff of indignation the blonde lets out. He tilts his chin up to the other end of the room, and that’s when they notice Bakugo’s eyes locked on to where you’re seated, book in hand.  

They watch, transfixed as a slow smile stretches across the blonde’s face, his chin nearly dropping in his upturned hand to watch you.

“Oh. Oh my god.” And suddenly everything makes sense to the pair. Kirishima and Denki lock eyes, secretive smiles plastered on both of their faces.

“She’s really pretty.” Kaminari muses, shutting his textbook and leaning back in his chair.

“Mm.” Katsuki grunts, only half paying attention.

“And way smarter than you.” Kirishima says, eyes locked on his friend.  

“Wait, what?” Bakugo asks, attention snapping back to his friends.

“So the day has finally come…our blasty boy has officially grown up.” Kirishima pretends to wipe non-existent tears, sniffing a little.

“What are you two idiots talking about?” Bakugo asks gruffly, flipping a page in his textbook.

“Oh nothing, just—"

“When’s the wedding?” Kaminari asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Again, what are you even talking about?”

“You have a crush!” Kaminari coos.

“I mean, I would like to crush your heads together.” Bakugo mumbles, but they can’t miss the way his cheeks turn pink. He avoids all eye contact, choosing instead to pretend to read the page in front of him. “She ah.” He clears his throat, “She made me this material to go under my hero suit, something about the shockwaves from my explosions being fed back into the material to…well, anyway, she brought it for me today. And I should have asked for her number, but…” He trails off, the unspoken words hanging in the air.  

I’m scared.

Kirishima puts a steady hand on Bakugo’s shoulder, knowing the fear his friend feels is more than warranted. Bakugo is silent for a few moments. And then, “I have all of these hard edges, and I don’t know how to be soft.”

“You don’t need to be soft; you need to be yourself.” Kaminari whispers, smiling at him. “And something tells me she probably feels the same way about you.”

Kirishima and Kaminari lock eyes again before standing and calling your name. Bakugo watches in abject horror as they approach you, his knee bouncing faster as they speak, the distance too great to listen to what exactly was being said. His eyes flit across the trio, panicking slightly.

He knew deep down that his friends just wanted him to be happy, but at this moment he wanted nothing more than to leap across the room and strangle them both. Bakugo briefly considers blowing the entire room up but decided against it at the thought of another bill being sent to his parents.

He watches as you put your book face down, eyes moving between his friends. They say something, then you frown before responding. The exchange feels like hours but is only a few minutes before you stand. You look over, locking eyes with Bakugo, then begin to make your way over to him.

He catches both Kaminari and Kirishima shooting him a thumbs up, before scuttling out of the library, leaving their books and backpacks behind where Bakugo sits. He scrambles out of his chair, choosing instead to lean a hip against the edge of the table as you approach.

“Hi.” He whispers, reaching a hand back to scratch his neck.

“Hi.” You reply, pressing your hands together before twisting them together again. He recognizes the movement from hours before, cataloguing the nervous habit in the file in his brain under your name. “They said you had something to tell me?”

“I—you make my chest feel weird.”

“Um, what?” You squeak out.

“No! No, I mean—god, I’m fucking this all up.” He heaves out a sigh, looking up at the ceiling before locking eyes with you. “I appreciate your gift, more than you know. And I like how smart you are, and that I can see the wheels turning in your head when you’re thinking really hard. I like how you aren’t afraid to talk to me, and I haven’t…I’ve never felt like this about another person before. You haven’t left my mind since the day I met you, and I-I like you, a lot.”

Your jaw drops slightly, eyes flickering back and forth across his face. He swallows, taking a step towards you before hesitantly reaching to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Can I take you on a date?” He asks quietly, swallowing nervously.

You blink before a smile splits your face, and you nod. He smiles back, and before you lose courage, you push up on the tips of your toes to press a soft kiss on his cheek, giggling when you pull away and see the now bright red color flooding his cheeks.

“I like you too, Blasty.”  

[deadhands69]

Passenger Seat

MDNI

Katsuki Bakugo x gn/afab Reader

expanding on this drabble (don't worry if you haven't read it, it's included in this post too) car sex after training with Dynamite

Even pro heroes have to do training sometimes. Unlucky for you, in your semi-monthly training you've been paired up to work with Dynamite from the agency next door. You're absolutely convinced you'll end up dead. 

After an hour of ruthless sparing, you accept you'll probably lose this match. Bakugo hasn't let up a bit.

Finally, in your exhaustion, he pins you to the ground. Arms held over your head, one of his legs pinning both of yours down. Then you feel it.

He's hard. 

You laugh. Looks like you did win after all.

When you initially felt it, you weren’t sure if his erection was from winning or his proximity to you. Katsuki Bakugo would definitely get a victory boner, right?  But when he hung his head in embarrassment, cheeks flushed as red as a strawberry, you took a wild guess. Looking up at him while he bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut cursing himself, you decided to go for it.

Afterall, you’re not the one with anything to lose at this point.

One of your hands, clasped under his, reached to brush lightly on his wrist. At this he looked up, eyes making contact with yours. You glanced towards the door and back at him. He nodded.

The shuffle out was the most awkward part. While standing back up, he pulled you up with him. Grabbing both hands and keeping you close. To anyone else, it looked polite. Sportsman-like. But you knew better.

Then, you turned, still allowing him to stay close and cover his very obvious arousal while you made the increasingly long walk to the coat rack. Once he had his jacket in hand, you were good to go. 

The two of you rushed down the stairs to the parking garage. As soon as he pulled you into his car, you knew neither of you could wait any longer.

He climbed in after you, tipping the passenger seat as far back as it would go. 

Now he has you in the same position as earlier. One of his arms pressing both of yours into the headrest above you while the other grips your hip to position you closer to him. You can feel him through his hero suit as he relentlessly grinds into you.

Good thing his windows are tinted.

Your combined breath makes the windows fog up. You feel yourself getting close, and the two of you are still fully clothed. 

Almost like he could read your mind, Bakugo groans at you. “Take these off,” pulling at your pants. He presses up, giving you just enough space to slide them to your feet while he unbuckles his belt and pulls himself out. 

Leaning back in, his tip explores your entrance.

“This okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you tip your hips in an effort to push him in.

“Always wanted to do this,” he breathes into your ear, “fuck in my car.”

“You haven’t?” 

In a quick but smooth motion, he slides halfway into you.

“Have now,” he smirks as you gasp, gripping his shoulders.

After a solid hour of non-stop sparing, being pressed into his comfortable passenger seat while he stretches you around him feels amazing. You need more of him. 

“What, are you going to actually fuck me or just stay there?” you watch his crimson eyes light up at your taunt.

“You gotta be patient, [your hero name],” he says but you couldn’t miss that he shoves himself fully in you. Leaning back in, he’s so close you can feel his breath against your neck as he whispers, “don’t worry, I’ll fuck you better than any extra ever has.”

“We’ll see about that.”

A lot of talk, but he doesn’t disappoint.

He starts slow but rough. Spacing his thrusts out to tease you, once he realizes how much you want it. His hero costume has so many straps and buckles to hold onto. You grip the orange ones crossing his chest, desperately pulling him harder into you. Within a few minutes, you’ve given up any front you once had and practically beg for it.

“Faster,” you moan in his ear, “need more of you.”

That’s all he needed to hear. At that, doubles his speed. Fucking you even harder into the seat while you wrap your legs around his back. Your hands move down to the sides of the plush seat, gripping them as you half scream in his ear. Toes curling as you cream hard on him. 

Now that his job is done, he takes it as a cue that it’s his turn. Humping hard into you while you practically convulse under him. You feel yourself gushing with both of your cum, suddenly aware of how much of a mess you both made.

“It’s fine,” he laughs sliding out of you and pulling his pants up, “the seats are leather. I can just clean it.”

He climbs over to the driver’s seat, giving you a chance to put your own clothes back on.

“I’ll give you a ride to your agency,”

“That’s fine, it’s three blocks away. I can walk.”

He pretends not to hear you, backing out of the spot anyway.

After a block of comfortable silence, he breaks it.

“The best?” he asks, smirking like he already knows the answer.

“Best what?”

“Was I the best, yes or no?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you tease, “maybe we’ll have to try again and see.”

m.list

thanks @amande-mochin @bakemonogatarii and @blahblahblahhhhhhhhhhhhhh for asking for this one

[myth1cs]

Slay the Princess (Shin Ryujin x M!Reader)

This is smut, Sorry!!! Finishing this week with Ryujin ... Again Word Count: 3,093

Chapter 1: The Hero and the Princess

You're on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a princess. You're here to slay her. If you don't, it will be the end of the world.

Or at least that's what you've been told. You are the kingdom's best knight. From a young age you've always been the "best". When your mandatory service happened you always performed the best. The higher ups noticed you and you quickly rose the ranks. Eventually you became the king's personal guard.

One day he pulled you aside and told you about this mission. He didn't trust anyone else but you. He told you how a while ago a dangerous princess was locked in a cabin basement deep in the woods. He feared one day she would break out and "end the world". He wanted you to slay her once and for all.

So here you were, as you walked to the cabin you remembered the king's warning before you left.

"Y/N she will lie, she will cheat, and she will do everything in her power to stop you from slaying her. Don't believe a word she says."

You were skeptical. How could a princess "end the world." Even if she was that dangerous why didn't the people who locked her there kill her?

It was all suspicious. You planned on asking a few questions before slaying her. As much as you trusted the king you felt as if something wasn't right.

You made your way up the cabin. When you entered you noticed how bare it was. Only a table and chair were in it. The only other thing was the door to the basement. You drew your sword your "pristine blade" was the only thing you took with you to "do the job".

You put your hand on the doorknob. Slowly you turned it, opening the door. When you opened the door you were immediately hit with a smell of disgust. It wreaked in there smelling horrible like dead animals. Your eyes started to sting.

But no matter, you have to do your job. You thought to yourself that if the princess really had been stuck down here then slaying her would probably be doing her a favor.

You made your way down the stairs. The stairs creaked as you walked on them alerting the princess of your presence.

"H-hello? Is someone there? I've been stuck here for so long please tell me your here to rescue me!"

Her voice was perfect. It was the type of voice you only need to hear once to remember it for the rest of your life.

You made your way down the stairs and saw her. She was beautiful. Her pink dress and her crown she had. She looked stunning. But how were they in such good condition if she had been stuck in the basement for so long?

"Are you my hero?" She said with hope in her voice.

"Y-yes well I mean no ... I mean." You were stuttering over your words you wanted to help her. But you can't forget your mission.

"What do you mean?" The princess looked at you confused.

You composed yourself before speaking up. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions first?"

The princess looked upset when you said that. "Okay but can you hurry up sir hero? I just want to get out of here."

You made your way up to her. But before you could get close to her the princess spoke up.

"Hey can you put your sword away? It's making me uneasy."

You're not sure why but you did as she asked. You put your pristine blade away and sat in front of her.

"So princess ... actually is princess too much? Do you want me to call you something else?"

"You can call me Ryujin."

"Right so Ryujin do you know why you're stuck down here?"

She hesitated before answering "No, but there must be a good reason. I mean you don't just lock a princess in a basement without a good reason ... Right?"

"Wait, you're not sure why you're here?"

Ryujin stayed silent. She looked like she genuinely wasn't sure.

"I don't know."

You wanted to help her. But you couldn't forget your mission. You considered what to do with her until she suddenly spoke up.

"Have you decided what you want to do with me?"

You thought for a moment. "I'm sure I could just watch over her. If she tries anything I could slay her." you thought to yourself.

Even though you were told to kill her you didn't want to harm her. You wanted to help her escape.

"Okay so here's what I'm going to do. So I'll help you free and I'll watch over you. But if you do anything that could harm someone than I won't hesitate in slaying you."

"That's fine by me."

You tried to find a way to free Ryujin from her chains. Her right wrist was chained to the wall. The metal looked old so you bashed it on the wall until it broke. Ryujin got slightly hurt in the process but she didn't mind.

"Now let's get you out of here."

You and Ryujin made your way upstairs. Closing the basement door behind you, you both looked at each other.

"I just realized I haven't caught your name sir hero."

"Call me Y/N."

"Y/N thank you for rescuing me. You deserve a reward you know."

"Oh really that's fine I'm just doing what's right."

"No I insist. From which kingdom do you come from? I'll ask my father to make a generous donation to it. And you to of course."

"Well I come from the Hei area."

"Noted, I'll make sure that you're compensated for your trouble Y/N."

"Ryujin do you know your way back to where you're from?"

"I don't, I'm not familiar with this area. But I'm sure I can figure it out."

You didn't want to leave Ryujin alone. What if she got hurt? Or worse the person who originally imprisoned her finds her again.

"I'll take you back to my place. But we'll have to be sneaky the guards always inspect soldiers whenever they come back from a mission."

"Well what do you suggest Y/N?"

-

As you made your way back you and Ryujin were nervous. You were banking on this one plan and you didn't have a back up plan. It was all or nothing.

You made your way to the back entrance where your friends Hwang Yeji and Kim Ji-woo were stationed.

You made your way up to them and they stopped you.

"Hold up Y/N who is she?" Kim Ji-woo asked

"Chuu, her name is Ryujin she's someone who I found wandering around. She said she was homeless and I wanted to bring her to my home." Even though her name was "Kim Ji-Woo" you always called her "Chuu".

"Yah! Y/N don't call me that!"

"Hold up Y/N I thought you were sent to slay a princess. So why is she dressed like one?" Yeji looked at you skeptically.

"I took the princesses clothes when I slayed her and gave them to Ryujin so she wouldn't have to stay in her old clothes."

"Wait you took the clothes off the princess? ..... Was she hot?"

"Yes no ... wait what? Why is this the question your asking Chuu?"

Chuu looked at you with her face becoming a little red.

"Well I just want to know if she was attractive or not."

"Alright Y/N you can come in just make sure to report her first thing in the morning so she can become an official citizen of the kingdom." Yeji said getting tired of the conversation you and Chuu were having.

You lead Ryujin to your house near the castle. Making sure to avoid being seen by anyone.

You eventually made your way home and let Ryujin in.

"So this is your place Y/N? It's quite nice."

You showed Ryujin around your house. Leading her to your bedroom you told her that she could stay there until you got back. You had to report to the king that your mission was successful.

"Wait Y/N before you go at least let me reward you."

Ryujin grabbed your arm

"What do you mean Ryujin? You already said you would you don't have to give me more."

"I just feel bad that I can't reward you yet and just want to give you a quick reward."

Ryujin walked up to you. She crashed her lips onto yours. You were stunned but quickly pushed her away.

"Ry-Ryujin what are you doing?"

"I'm just giving you your reward. Is something wrong?"

"Ryujin I can't do this."

You quickly left the room leaving Ryujin alone.

"What's wrong with him?" Ryujin thought to herself.

Ryujin looked around your house. She found some of your clothes and changed into them. She went outside and made her way back to Yeji and Chuu. "If anyone knows about Y/N it's probably those two." Ryujin thought to herself.

Ryujin finally made her way there. Yeji and Chuu looked at her confused wondering why she was even there.

"Why are you back here?"

"Do any of you know about Y/N's past?"

"Where is this coming from?"

"I tried to kiss him but he declined. When he left he looked as if he was sad about something."

Yeji looked at Chuu wondering if she should tell her.

"Look this is a matter of Y/N's business. I don't think we should speak about his personal matters. If you want to know more than you should ask him."

As Ryujin was walking away Chuu yelled at her "If you ask about it please be gentle with him!"

Ryujin sighed and went back to your house.

When she got back she saw you. You looked panicked.

"Oh thank goodness you showed up. Where were you?!"

"I just wanted to go out for some fresh air."

"Look Ryujin you can't be going out. People won't recognize you and be suspicious."

"That's why I wore your clothes."

You sat down on the floor exhausted.

"Just don't sneak out again."

"H-hey Y/N."

"Yeah?"

"Why did you push me away when I kissed you?"

You didn't want to tell her. But something told you that you should.

"It was a long time ago..."

You told Ryujin about your wife. You told her how you met her, and how you were both in love with each other. However one day when the kingdom was attacked by barbarians she was one of the people that was killed in the attack. Ever since you haven't been able to fall in love with another person.

"I'm so sorry Y/N I didn't know."

"It's fine, it was a long time ago anyways."

"I'm sure she would be proud of the person you became."

"Thanks"

The room was filled with silence. Neither wanted to speak up as it felt weird to speak after you just told her about your past.

"Look Y/N I have no right to tell you this, but you need to move on. Life goes on and you shouldn't feel afraid of being in another relationship over one bad experience."

You thought about what Ryujin said. You didn't want to disrespect your dead wife by dating another woman.

"Don't be afraid I only want what's best for you." The final words you ever heard from your wife Hanni played in your head.

You started crying unable to bear the emotions you had bottled up for so long. Ryujin went to you and embraced you.

"Go ahead let it all out." Ryujin said as you cried on her.

You cried letting your tears fall on Ryujin. You only told Yeji and Chuu. But they could only do so much. The pain of your Hanni's death always bottled inside you.

Eventually you calmed down. Wiping your tears away you looked at Ryujin.

"Ryujin, I have the same feelings being with you as I did with my wife." You told her before you gently put your lips on hers.

Ryujin kissed you back. Both of you made love with each other. You were both very gentle as to not harm the other. You slowly worked on taking off Ryujin's shirt. Once you saw her beautiful breasts it made your cock hard.

"Do you want me to help you Y/N?"

You nodded and Ryujin started to take off your pants. Once they were off she put your hard cock in between her soft breasts. Moving them up and down. It made you go crazy. Ryujin spit on your cock to help make it nice and slippery.

All of this made you lose focus of everything around you. You couldn't hold back any longer. You pushed Ryujin to the floor and started to align your cock to her wet pussy. Shoving it deep inside of her hitting her deepest points, making Ryujin loudly moaned. You started to pinch her nipples and started thrusting in her.

Ryujin was being overstimulated as she felt herself on the brink of release.

"Y/N I'm cumming!"

Ryujin squirted all over your cock but you didn't stop.

"Stop Y/N I'm sensitive!" but her plea went in one ear and out the other. It only fueled your drive to continue going deep in. The thought of ruining a princess was still clouding your mind.

Suddenly Ryujin wrapped her legs around you and pulled you in closer. You weren't complaining though. Going in and out again, and again, and again Ryujin kept squirting on your cock. But your persisted bent on reaching your own orgasm.

As you felt yourself about to cum you grabbed Ryujin's breasts that fit so perfectly in your hands. Squeezing them as you unloaded inside of her. The princess was sweaty and oozing out a mix of both your cum and hers.

"You're so addicting Ryu."

Ryujin got on top of you and you thrusted up.

"Wrong hole Y/N!"

"Sorry!"

This time you shoved your cock into her pussy. Ryujin started bouncing on your cock. Your hands found their way to her ass. Giving it a hard squeeze eliciting more moaning from the princess.

"More! More! Ahh Y/N~"

"What a horney princess. You're so noisy."

"Give me more Y/N I don't want your love I want your cum."

You gave her just that. Cumming inside of the princess painting her pussy with all your thick semen.

You both laid on the ground exhausted until suddenly the door to your house was broken down.

Soldiers came rushing in and detained you both. You didn't have time to react as you were quickly knocked out and lost consciousness.

You woke up, you tried getting up but felt chains tying your feet and arms to the bed.

"Answer our questions and your sentencing will be lighter."

You recognized that voice.

"General Jung Ho-seok (J-Hope)? Why are you-"

"Zip it traitor. If we got to you any later the world could have ended. Now you better have a damn good reason for not only not slaying the princess, but also inviting her into our kingdom and having sex with her." He sounded furious. You and general Ho-seok were friends. You both always hung out together and got to know each other very well. But this was the very first time you ever heard him so mad.

"It's not what you think she isn't dangerous!"

"Oh don't tell me you fell for her dirty tricks Y/N what did the king tell you? He told you to not trust a single word she says. Your a traitor now you'll both be publicly executed first thing tomorrow morning."

Ho-seok got up and started leaving.

"Wait where is Ryu- I mean the princess!"

"As if I would tell you that!"

He left leaving you alone tied to the bed in your cell.

Execution Day

You had a hard time falling asleep. But who could blame you, you were about to be executed. 5 royal guards came to your cell. They freed you from the chains and escorted you outside.

You made it outside and you saw 2 guillotines. Ryujin was already in one. They put you into the one next to hers.

The king suddenly came on stage and started giving a speech. You didn't pay attention. You were more focused on how the knights found out about Ryujin. Did Yeji and Chuu sell you out? Did someone see Ryujin while she went outside and reported her?

Looking around the crowd you saw Yeji and Chuu both looking at you with a certain look. You could tell they were the ones who sold you out. "Those fucking traitors." you thought.

"And now commence the execution!"

When you heard the king say those words you were pulled out of your train of thought. You heard the guillotine next to you cut something. You were horrified as you saw Ryujin's head fall and roll on the floor. But you didn't have to process this as suddenly you lost consciousness. Everything went dark and you died.

???

You're on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a princess. You're here to slay her. If you don't, it will be the end of the world.

"W-wait didn't I just live this? Was that a dream?" You looked around, you couldn't believe it . Was that a dream? Was this life giving you a second chance?

You ran up the path and saw the cabin. It was different this time though. It was in shambles .... broken. You ignored it and ran in the basement. You had to see if Ryujin was alive.

Opening the door to the basement you noticed how dark it was. You made your way downstairs to see a skeleton. You were horrified until you suddenly felt something cold touch your back.

You turned around and saw her ... it was Ryujin.

Except

It was her ghost.

"Wh- what just what are you?"

"Y/N I'm so glad you could make it back!"

"Why are you a ghost?"

"Does it matter?"

Unsure of why you were reborn or why Ryujin was a ghost. You knew that you had to turn Ryujin into a human again and get your revenge on those traitors.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Slay the princess is such a good game. Seriously if you haven't played it you should.

In case anyone is wondering this story isn't taken from the game. Only the intro sequence was. :p

Also I know this is horrible timing. Another author released a smut story that also had a princess Ryujin thing I just want to make it clear I didn't steal it!!! I swear I've had this in my drafts for weeks now!

[really-fanny-longbottom]

okay sooooo

i had this little thought right

okay so maybe like reader has been a part of the inner circle for a looooong time like since the batboys were kids and they've all been friends forever, naturaly azriel has been in love with her since then, and a few years ago he realised they were mates (she doesn't know)

this one time she walks into the townhouse in just a bra and trousers, casually just walking in drinking coffee while the rhys and cass are just flabbergasted (cass being cass is eyeing the goods real hard because shes always been hot and he knows it) rhys is smirking and all (hes no less honestly)

then az walks in and hes just like what the fuck, she tries to explain smth happened to her shirt on the way and hes just grumbling and takes off his own shirt and is like put this own (cass is naturally making comments that make az's blood boil)

then you can choose where that goes from there

lmfaoooo im so sorry i couldn't get this idea out of my head

its okayyyy if you can't write it!!!

hi! sorry it took me so long to post but i've been really busy with university and only now have i had some free time.

anyway, here it is! thank you so much for this request, i loved writing it!

i hope you like it! 🫶🏻

my hero

summary: a small but very happy incident.

warnings: none

pairings: azriel x reader

words: 2.2k

tick 

tack

tick 

tack 

"ugh," a heavy groan escaped your lips at the sound of the clock. you seated slightly, your head pounding without mercy. 

as you looked at the window, your eyes fought against the early sunlight, before adjusting and finally allowing you to fully open them.

it took you a few seconds to remember your surroundings, and to be honest, to remember anything. 

the confusion didn't last long when all the memories from last night hit you all at once. 

you had gone out for the night with morrigan. you went to rita's for a girls night.

a night with a lot of drinking and dancing and singing and drinking again — mysterious headache solved.

you looked down on you, seeing the shiny short black dress you had chosen for last night specifically. 

you passed your hands through your messy hair and took a glance at your bedroom, absorbing the chaos that a very drunk you had caused.

how could just a person cause such a mess?

tick 

tack

tick

tack

"ugh!" a loud annoyed groan left your lips again

at the sound of the clock that kept attacking your brain. 

before you could think twice, you turned and reached out to punch the clock, causing it to fall to the ground.

you lowered yourself on the bed sheets with an arm over your head.

this was going to be a very long day.

and that's when it you.

your eyes and two seconds later, your legs were fighting against the bed sheets. 

after losing that battle, you ended up falling to the ground with a loud noise. 

a small 'huff' came out of your mouth before getting up and running to the clock as quickly as possible to check the time. 

10:07 am

"oh, shit."

you were late for your internship at the clinic.

"oh, shit."

you quickly begin to look for clean clothes at the same time you try to get rid of your dress. 

you manage to find something that looked relatively clean and put it on, your heart racing as you tried to get your hair to not look like a complete mess.

when you finished putting your hair in a more presentable state, you hurried to put on your shoes, but when you noticed the time again, you only managed to put on a sock before grabbing the first pair of shoes in sight and running out of your room. 

as you run for the stairs, you didn't have time to react before a body collided with yours and spilled coffee all over your t-shirt.

the hot contents against your skin forced you to let out a small scream and dropped the shoes to the floor as you struggled to pull the fabric of your t-shirt away from your body. 

"shit, shit, shit!" you cursed at the same time you blew on your t-shirt.

great, as if your day wasn't already going badly. 

"sorry," a small voice said.

you met your attacker's gaze as you looked up to see a beautiful female with green eyes and brown hair — morrigan's friend. 

right, you had forgotten that she had come home with the two of you — with mor. 

the female looked mortified as you stared at her annoyed. when you saw her opening her mouth to say something, you quickly stopped her.

"don't," you raised your hand at her, you didn't have time for this, "just. . .just go."

you pointed at morrigan's bedroom, whose door was slightly open. the female followed your direction, shrinking a little as she passed through you.

"idiot!" you cursed quietly. 

you looked at your bedroom and considered your options: the chances that you may find a new clean t-shirt in the middle of that mess, were very low and you were already late.

so you gave up and made your way down the stairs, starting to unbutton your shirt before completely taking it off, leaving you in your black lacy bra, and entering the kitchen.

rhysand and cassian who had been enjoying a late breakfast found themselves speechless upon your entrance. 

their gazes followed you as you moved to the sink and started working on removing the stain.

the males shared a gaze between them, identical smirks forming on both of their faces.

"good morning, y/n." rhysand greeted you as he took a sip of his tea cup.

you jumped startled, your eyes found theirs immediately, "gods, i didn't see you there."

rhysand's smirk grew wider. "oh, we know."

"did you get mugged?" cassian asked as he took in your figure.

you were barefoot with only one sock and shirtless.

"what?" you asked confused. 

cassian's eyes roam over your body.

"oh, no, morrigan's friend though it was a good idea to spill her coffee over me. freaking idiot," you murmured the last part, still focused on the task in hand.

cassian let out a snort "well, i'll make sure to thank her personally for this amazing view."

you rolled your eyes at his comment "oh, shut up, cassian. we grew up together, we've all seen each other naked at one point."

rhys smirked and grew before adding "sure, but we were either kids or teenagers at those times." 

cassian glanced at his brother, amusement all over his features "maybe we should go back to those times."

with another roll of your eyes, you tried to suppress a smile at your friend's comment while trying to get rid of the stain.

as on cue, the shadowsinger entered the kitchen to join his brothers for breakfast.

instead, he was surprised with a view of you shirtless — his shirtless mate.

the very reason, rhys and cassian had begun to tease you in the first place. 

what made this whole situation much funnier — the fact that you weren't aware of this detail. 

and things had just become a lot more interesting now with azriel in the room. 

his eyes widened at the sight of you but when he turned to find his brothers, his eyes darkened and a low growl was released.

"nice of you to join us, brother," cassian said casually as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

he can practically feel the heat coming off of azriel, like smoke coming out of his ears.

"what's wrong, az?" rhys asked him, knowing exactly what was going on but seeing azriel riled up was too funny to miss it.

at the sound of their voices, you looked up and your eyes found a pair of hazel ones.

"oh, hi, azriel." you greeted him with your sweet smile — the one he liked so much.

the shadowsinger found himself melting at your words, at the way you said his name. 

his eyes instantly softed, a small blush coming to his cheeks and a goofy smile on his lips, "h-hi, y/n." 

you gave him a warm smile before going back to your task.

azriel regained his composure at the sound of his brothers' muffled laughter. 

he sighed and rolled his eyes at their behavior, he hadn't catched a break from them since he revealed the mating bond on one drunken night.

cassian elbowed rhys gently in the ribs to get his attention, when his eyes found his, the general gestured with his head to the shadowsinger. 

"hey, az" cassian tried to contain his urge to laugh, he knew what was about to happen. 

"what?" azriel managed to say, his eyes still on your figure.

"we were just talking. . ." cassian started, his voice teasing "about going back to those times when we were teenagers." 

azriel face scrunched in confusion, he shot his brother a look. 

"you know," cassian continued, his peripheral vision caught rhys trying to control himself  "those times where we didn't care about being naked in front of each other." 

both rhys and cassian snorted at the sight of azriel's face turning red.

"what?!" the male let out a little too loud then he had intended.

rhys proceeded, "yeah, you know. when we didn't care so much about formalities. don't you agree, y/n?" 

you rolled your eyes again at rhys comment, "i think you two have too much free time" you chuckled, "cauldron has mercy on the poor females that will ended up as your mates."

"hey!" both cassian and rhys protested.

azriel smiled at your comment, but it fell when he observed both of his brothers eyes roaming over your body, grins splattered on their features.

azriel moved to the edge of the table, placing his hands on the surface of it before giving them a glare and clenching his jaw.

"stop looking at her like that before i break your faces" he threatened through gritted teeth. 

cassian and rhys were quick to lift their arms in surrender, both muttering a small "yes, sir." 

azriel rolled his eyes in annoyance. his attention was caught when he heard you cursed quietly. 

he sent one last warning look to the two males before moving to stand behind you.

he was so close, that all it took was another step of his for your back to be pressed against his chest.

azriel would love to know the feeling of that sensation, but he remained where he was.

he peeked through your shoulder and saw that you couldn't get rid of the annoying coffee stain. 

"gods, madja is going to kill me for being late." 

without a second thought, azriel took a step back.

"here," he told you.

you turned to find him taking off his own shirt.

your eyes roamed his body — his sun-kissed skin, his muscles, his illyrian tattoos. 

you loved those tattoos. 

"put it on," he extended his hand to you, holding out his shirt.

"oh, that's not necessary, az. i-"

"it's okay, y/n. i- i want you too. by the way, why don't you go get your shoes and i'll take you to the clinic? it's quicker that way and you don't have to walk." 

your face softened, "really? you would do that?" 

the corner of his lips lifted for a small smile, only you to make him feel this way.

"of course." 

you grabbed his shirt, "ugh, thank you, az."

you put it on and azriel tried to not let the sight of your small feature into his too big of a shirt to affect him, but he failed when his heart skipped a beat.

you moved forward and grabbed his cheeks, kissing him on the left one.

caught off guard, azriel tried to hide the fact that his skin had heated up under your touch. 

a new blush came to decorate his cheeks. 

"hm. . .i-" the male couldn't find his words with the sound of his heart roaming in his ears. 

"you're my hero, az" you gave a big smile before making your way to the stairs to collect your shoes. 

azriel stood there in the middle of the kitchen with a hand making it's way to his face to touch the place you kissed him.

cassian and rhys burst out laughing, not being able to remain composed of their brother in love. 

cassian got up from his seat and walked towards his brother, clasping a hand on his back.

"behold of the big bad scary shadow-," cassian leaned over in laughter, "shadowsinger" he managed to complete. 

rhys appeared on his other side, "oh, brother. only if your enemies could see you now, they would think how big of a fool they are."  

azriel clenched his jaw again, and when he turned to answer them, he was stopped by a honey-sweet voice.

"i'm ready," you told him from the entrance.

once again, the shadowsinger was left completely disarmed.

a goofy smile reappeared on his face. 

he didn't even spare a glance at his brothers before making his way to you, "let's go then."

cassian and rhys were left in the kitchen laughing to themselves.

•••

the trip to the clinic was quick.

azriel landed softly on the ground, keeping a hand on your waist and another on your back to make sure you were stable.

you took a step forward before turning to him.

"thank you again, az. you literally just saved my morning." 

and there it was that goofy smile again.

"oh, it's nothing really. my pleasure." 

you let out a small giggle. you reached forward, surrounding his neck with one of your arms and gave him a kiss on the cheek again.

azriel's heart raced and his voice caught in his throat. 

you took a step back "you're my hero, azriel. what would i do without you?" 

you caressed his cheek with the back of your hand before giving him one last smile and moving towards the clinic.

"hm, i-" was all the male managed to say while watching you entering the clinic with his shirt.

he watched as you grabbed the door, and turned to him to wave goodbye. 

azriel returned the gesture. it was at that moment that he realized how much power you had over him.

he didn't push away that feeling, in fact he embraced it.

it was about time to let the walls he had built so long ago disappear. 

and you were the right person for that.

azriel made a decision at that moment.

at the end of the day, he would come pick you up and ask you out on a date.

he would buy you flowers, tell you how he felt and take you to dinner.

he just hoped you felt the same way.

and that you said yes.

masterlist

general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @littlelou22 @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @meul-a @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @mrsjna @lively-potter @avajustreads @talesofadragon @circe143 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @dark-chaos-314 @tequilya @scoliobean @saltedcoffeescotch @charlotteintumbleland @agirlwithwifiandalaptop @987coley

*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[yeyinde]

ghoapxreader in the baby trapping series IM BEGGING 🧎‍♀️

i think i've exhausted the whole "tampering with contraceptives" thing to death by now so i would probably do something different with them. like a surrogate situation or something, but awful lmao

maybe down on her luck reader is in desperate need of cash, and these two men swoop in to save you from this horrible pit you've fallen into.

you need money. they need a baby.

simple, right?

except the simplicity falls apart when they blatantly tell you they want a natural insemination—as in, a threesome.

multiple, the pretty Scot tells you. after all, it has tae take, hen.

(and this is the part where you should have run. the moment when you'd be screaming at the television at the hapless protagonist as they walk mindlessly into danger despite the warning signs hanging overhead. but like the oblivious hero, you're too blinded by pretty, gleaming white to realise that the thing you're marveling over is a maw. cracked open wide and full of jagged, deadly teeth rearing up to sink inside of you.

but the problem with making shady deals when you're desperate is that no one really bothers to read the fine print, do they? and by the time you see past their crooked charm, you're waving your child off as they skip up the stairs to school, standing like a prisoner between them as they lean down and ask if you're ready for another—)

but that comes later.

what comes first is message on Craiglist.

one that you spend less time considering it than you should have. desperation, you find, clouds your judgement. blots out common sense. makes you susceptible to manipulation. and oh, how susceptible you are. despite priding yourself on your common sense and keen self-awareness, the overarching issues hanging over your head like an idling guillotine seem to erase that instructive need for self-preservation.

so, when the message itself pops up, you're already primed for making bad choices. ones out of malformed desperation. the barrage of texts from your landlord demanding rent, the ones sent to your family in moments of dire need asking for fruitless aid that will never come in time if the read receipts mean anything at all. the package from HR apologising for the inconvenience, but this was, regrettably, the only feasible option for the company at present, and too bad you didn't sign up for that union, huh? student loans. credit cards.

the measureable calamity of your life manifests itself in the shape of a black cloud hanging onto your aching shoulder, wrapping long, inkstained fingers around your jugular as it hisses the insurmountable figure needed to climb out of this pit in your ear.

sleepless, of course, hasn't helped.

and in that bog you can't swim through, their offer sounds far more appealing than it should.

let's meet up somewhere, comes the next message at half past three in the morning as you talk yourself in (and out) of this mess. talk about things more.

what else are you supposed to do?

job hunting sites mock you with their generic emails, thanking you for applying, and saying they'll reach out within a few business days for an interview if you're a good fit. ones sent off weeks ago. hundreds of them to no avail. it's almost like you're being plagued. blacklisted from the city.

even the fast food chain down the street refused your application when you sent it in, and the help wanted sign has been taped on the drive-thru window since you were sixteen.

it all pushes you closer and closer to making stupid choices, like replying with a simple (nervous, shaky, bile-tinged) sure to the message they sent. i'm down—

(—and drowning)

but you're smart enough to know better, so you act like it, too.

ping your location to your friends. tell them where you're going. clutch your keys so tightly in your fist that your knuckles just out through thin skin. layers upon layers of safety measures glimpsed through the various articles about how to stay alive.

but all the tremulous air is siphoned from your lungs when you see them for the first time.

something magnetic thrums through your chest. copper sutures running lines from their skin to yours until touching just seems like the most natural thing in the world. and you suppose it is when the pretty Scot folds you into a tight hug, cinching you close to his chest as if he's known you his whole life instead of just several seconds.

he's a thing of beauty. chiselled from marble, almost; David made human when he runs his tanned hand through the tumble of uneven hair along his crown. eyes the same varicoloured palette of a boscage in autumn framed in the setting sun's golden halo.

there's a distinct ruggedness about his beauty, too. one that reminds of you a lion's mane. the sleek fur of a stallion. pretty in a wild way. and as his eyes list towards you again and again, like he can't quite manage his fill of staring at you, taking you in, you think about that wildness again. the hunger in his eyes so similiar to the desperation of a predator fattening up for the encroaching chill of winter. it makes you shiver, but you can't look away

(because you know what's waiting for you when you do)

and when you finally pluck up the courage to glance at the shape devouring the light with his intimidating bulk, you come to quick realisation that if Johnny is the personification of an autumn evening, then the man standing next to him is the tried and true testament that bad things happen after dark.

he's a strange figure, one who veers almost comically into the uncanny valley with his hood pulled over the plain, black ballcap hanging low over his brow. a balaclava covering every inch of his face with the exception of a small, ovaled hole for his eyes. remnants of something ashy smear into the corners, running up the crooked bend of his nose.

he doesn't look like a real man—not with those liquid, haunting eyes—but at the same time, there's something preternaturally human about him. a stereotypical sense of masculinity—just one warped around the edges.

with his worn jeans pulled tight over thick, bulging thighs, and the silver zipper of his hoodie resting at the base of his throat, you could easily think he was just another man in the crowd, but it's off. a glitch. a skip.

like mistaking a coat rack for a man in the dead of night.

eerie.

dangerous.

if the man beside him is playfully carnivorous, a basking lion rolling onto his belly at the zoo, separated by thick glass, then he (Simon, Johnny supplies readily when the silence lingers; Simon Riley), Simon, is what it feels like to be followed home at night.

but—

there's something about fear and desire that are almost inseparable when broken down into a physiological response.

and when he steps up behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body soaking into the drying sweat on your back, you liken the way your heart climbs up your throat to same as it would seeing a dorsal fin cutting above the waves in open water.

desire, you think, and then catching the white-hot burn of the stare, you add, in a thin whisper: fear.

when they sit you down, and begin to spin a story about how they just want a baby—no strings attached—you stay seated in the chair even as an itch in the back of your head starts, nails scraping at your skull.

their reluctance toward traditional methods makes sense when they explain that with their lifestyle, it's impossible—or the Scottish man does; the other one with a marbled skin of thick, ugly scars on his hands just stares, pinning you down with the weight of his gaze—and this arrangement is the only way they'll get the baby they've been hoping for.

and even though the scratching in your head sounds suspiciously like why you and run, you eat the food they bought for you in the fancy restaurant where appetisers start at $30, and a glass of water is priced at $6. volcanic spring water, the waiter explains as he pours it from a marbled glass pitcher.

you haven't eaten a real meal that wasn't microwavable or cup noodles in weeks.

maybe that's why you find yourself thinking why not instead of no.

they're attractive men. it's not the worst situation you could have found yourself in, even if the idea of parenthood—however brief it's supposed to be—has bile clawing up the back of your throat, and the bones housing your trembling heart feeling laden, heavy like iron, and starts to cinch your chest shut each day, squeezing tighter, and tighter, and—

they drop off the first the installment to you the moment your doctor starts to talk about boerhaave syndrome, as if they know the doubts that plague your head when they leave your apartment and the silence starts to mock you.

and that leads you here.

guilt for their situation. desperation over your own. an overarching need to please. it's all a dangerous cocktail that douses over rationality until you're nodding along, accepting their words as gospel until sleeping with them—multiple times—doesn't seem like such a bad thing.

until it happens. until you have Johnny and Simon actively working to knock you up. a marathon of intense sex with the single-minded goal of putting their baby in you.

Johnny drooling all over you as he ruts between your thighs, mindlessly driving himself into a frenzy as he slurres out his desires in an incomprehensible mess of English and Gaelic and animalistic grunts. barely pulling out in time before Simon is pressing your knee down to the mattress, cooing mockingly at the mess his boy made of you. cruelly taking bets as he slides into your sore, aching cunt about who will take first. his or Johnny's? and who do you want, birdie? who's baby do you want first?

fingers always shoving inside to cap the overflow when they exhaust themselves in a liquid-limbed stupor, barely conscious as you tapped out some three, four rounds ago. unable to keep your eyes open any longer as they both came to the same conclusion that cumming inside of you at the same time was the quickest way to knock you up together. ain't he a romantic, birdie?

and it's probably for the best that you passed out before it happened, drooling on Simon's scarred shoulder as he gripped the cheeks of your ass, pulling you wide open as Johnny shuffled forward between his spread legs, eyes riveted to the spot where Simon's cock split you open. the ache you felt the next morning, coming to on a broad chest with fingers stuffed inside of you—shush, shush, just keeping you nice an' plugged, sweetheart—was almost unbearable.

you expected them to clear out after getting what they want, but they stay. tend to you carefully like you're made of fine china.

or—Johnny does. bundles you up in his arms before setting off towards the bath, finally letting you wash the sticky, flaking grime from your skin, some awful mixture of drying cum, spit, and sweat, groaning in your ear as he pulls you to his damp, hairy chest about how sweet you are for them. how they're going to take care of you.

Simon caters to other things. packs your bags as Johnny scrubs thick fingers over your shoulders, pausing to grasp a sore, tender breast in his palm, hefting the weight up as he feverishly mutters about how hot it'll be to watch you feed their baby. an' maybe you'll let him have a little taste, too—

and when you finally emerge from the bath, sorer between the thighs than you were when you woke up, another mess pooling in the gusset of the panties he pulled up your legs, Simon's waiting, eyes riveted to your belly. staring at it with so much hunger, a cold sweat breaks out along the nape of your neck.

in the grand scheme of things, the threesome is the easy part. the hard part comes when they turn the arrangement into a prison, locking the shackles around your wrists when the pregnancy test comes back positive a few weeks later.

they're only doing what's best for their baby, they say, when they move you out of your apartment and into theirs. the cut lease was the only way to do it, Johnny says, shrugging. why make you pay for something you aren't using anymore?

and maybe if your head was thickened with a fog, you'd have questioned the phrasing, but as it stands, pregnancy, even as early as this one, adles you. leaves you a syrupy mess of emotions that they take turns exploiting. aren't you so lonely all by yourself, hen? don' ye want a family?

aren't they good enough for you?

it's less subliminal messaging and more overt coersion. what are you going to do after this? where will you go with your lease cut? and when the funds run dry? what then?

gonna find another couple to knock you up? Simon hisses, mangled hands mauling your belly, pinching and squeezing the flesh as if he could feel the fragile box their happiness is housed inside. should jus' stay with us if that's the case, birdie.

but it's all so sweet, in its own way—

(—sweet like a parasite nesting inside of it's host.

but at least you'll never be lonely.)

they stand by the fact that they're looking out for you. that they care. that they can't do much else but idle and watch your body evolve into something new (an' magnificent, Johnny breathes, kissing this unfamiliar shape you call home) and it grates at them because they're not used to feeling so useless, so can't you just let them do this for you? take care of you in all the ways they see fit? like cutting your lease and giving you a better place to stay. handing in your resignation from that shitty nine to five that wore you down to the bone. culling out the annoyances in your life—the friends and family—who kick up needless fits over your wellbeing, and just stress you out more than you need to be.

they're not good enough for you, is what Simon says when you ask why he blocked them from your phone, Johnny hovering by the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. barring the exits, you'll realise later. but what comes first is fear, is anger, is—

happiness. maybe. or some broken, fragile facsimile of it. a subpar humuliculus masquerading around as if it was realised flesh and bone.

"oh," you say, and think you should be touched by his care, his concern, and so you are. shape this emotion from the sludge that pools at the bottom of your chest, running fingers through the muck to find pieces of gold. and then: "thank you, Simon."

it's sweet. or it could have been if it didn't spiral out of your control when they systematically dismantle your entire life until all you're left with is loose sediment slipping through your fingers. the foundation itself soften clay they shape into the image they've been after with the whole time: you.

(or more specifically, a momma for their baby.)

and when they ask you, at the end of this thin, fraying tether, if you want to be with them—an equal, a mother—and be a mother again for them, there's nothing else you could say except yes.

nothing because they made it so.

[gamblersdoll]

nsfw, implied masturbation, p in v, semi mean bakugou. pro hero bakugou! spit and choking.

it does sometimes suck not having a pro hero line job, always having to be home alone and wait for you boyfriend, dynamite, come home.

this time was harder, since it was your ovulation time around that month. the week before your dreadful period and you needed him. he was supposed to be at some mission in another country, you werent so sure when he would be home.

and those urges were back, rougher and harder than ever since you were all alone..

so you did what was best, right? sliding your right hand down your panties and curling your fingers into your sensitive and swollen g-spot, and a left hand on your tit, it begging for attention since you havent had sexual relations in about two weeks.

it felt good to finally feel something inside you, until your ring notifications came and—

shit, hes home!?

‘baby?’ he shouts out, you hear his gauntlets drop against the door as you scramble to find your clothes, rushing down stairs to greet him.

“how was the mission?” you chuckle, him leaving sloppy kisses all over your cheek and kissing your lips. “did it go as planned?”

“only some minor events, but it went well. hell, it s cause i was there.” he boasts, planting you back down and looking over to the stove. “what’cha cookin’?” he asks, patting a hand on your butt as he sits on the couch.

“some rice and peas, oxtails too. had a craving.” you mumble, it wasnt much of a lie, but a good cover up. he grunts in response, momentarily looking at the tv and then plopping his head back to look at you.

the fuck?

his eyes widen, looking at your frame in just a t-shirt and panties. that wouldn’t normally make him hot and bothered, but the obvious thing did: the white creamy slick in between your legs, and the small evidence on the lower of your asscheek.

he grins, canines barred and he walks to you, hugging you from behind and watches you stir the pot of the gravy covered oxtails. the silence was comforting, his hands rubbing up and down your throat and hips.

“so, did it feel good?” he asks, whispering the question into your ear and still watching your hands.

“did what feel good?” you reply, not paying it much mind.

“you obviously had some fun with your cunt, couldnt even do a simple thing of cleaning up.”

you eat your words, heart beating in a cold sweat and swallowing thickly. “dont get shy now, princess.” he chuckles, taking a hand and slipping it past your panties, a finger intruding into your hole. “shi— this was fuckin’ recent? yer’ still fucking leaking.”

“kat—“ you try, him placing a hand on your throat and tilting your head back to look up at him.

“did it feel good?” he asks again, his hard on pressing between your cheeks and a grin still on his face. you nod, heat forming on your face and ears. “yeah? how many times did the slut cum?” he cooed, bumping his hips into yours slowly.

“i.. didnt get the chance to.” you mumble, reminiscing on you being so close to having that big ‘o’ before he came home and barged himself in.

he sucks his teeth, “oh, really? did i disrupt you?” he cooed again, finger hooking around the waist band and then yanking them down. “poor baby, ill make it up to you.” as he said while he turns down the stove flames to a simmering heat.

he whips you around to the island instead, having you still look up to him from behind. his hand travels behind, pressing into your still leaking hole from the back and curling up into your spot. “now where was that g-spot.. hmm,” he pretended to wonder, feigning confusion. “here?” he curls again, chuckling when you suck in a breath and moan. “oh yeah, it is right there.”

your legs try to close, but his hero boots spread them apart in one swift motion and bending you slightly over the island table. “does that feel good?” he asks softly, causing you to tear up and nod. “yeah? oh, i can tell.”

you choke on your tears, barely can keep your eyes open to look him in the eye. “i–i’m going to cum..” you moan, breath hitching when he speeds up the pace. “ im cumming, im cumming–“ you cry, legs shaking and eyes crossing. your mouth drops into a ‘o’, then your voice works again.

“mm, there ya go..” he mumbles, watching your eyes and kissing your lips. by this time, he’d already had pulled his cock out, it slightly pressing against that other puckered hole moments ago. “you need more than my fingers, i know.”

he did, knowing how much of a needy person you are when in need of cock.

his tip slips in, then he pulls it back out in a tease. “fuck, cant just bottom out so soon, huh?” he teases, tapping his heavy cock onto your plump ass.

“please, katsuki.” you whine, pressing your ass against the heavy balls he hadnt emptied in weeks. he groans, kissing your head and finally, fucking finally, slipping himself in.

and it was like his cock just knew where your g-spot was, because it was already there.

his hand, thats been on your throat this whole time, squeezes just a bit and feels how it expands and shrinks when you moan his name, or moan how good he makes you feel. “yeah? tell me how good this feels.” he growled out, a needy growl since he hasnt cum in the weeks you havent. “how long have you been craving this cock?” he mocks, prying your mouth open with his thumb and spitting in your dark, wet cavern.

you swallow greedily, breathing heavy when his thrusts slow down and he focuses on a slow pace, kissing your bruised and tender lips in a passionate need.

and that only draws out his kids into your womb, a breathy exhale from his nose and a spasming cock inside your walls. “took it so good, baby.” he whispered against your lips, leaning back to check on the food youd made. “luckily we didnt burn the food.”

[angelshimaa]

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 ;; 𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒

⤷ feat. bakugou & kirishima <3

✧ cw :: gn!reader, fluff, reader is shorter than them (height not specified), bkg calls you 'babe' and 'pretty', kiri calls you 'baby' and 'pretty', bkg's is a teensy bit suggestive (only if you squint), bkg swears twice, kissin in both 😍

✧ a/n :: hi y'all !! haven't written fanfic in a bit so i am a little rusty (sorreiii) but i couldn't get this out my mind, so here :D it's a little long and i feel there's repetition, but who cares? 😍

"katsu, have you seen my necklace? i swear i just had it—" you walk down the stairs, headed for the living room. the love of your life pauses his patient wait, looking up at your descending figure.

he's not sure he'll ever get used to how beautiful you are.

"s'on the table, babe," katsuki's used to your running about, finding bits and bobs to complete the look of the day because you misplace things quite easily. he places his phone on the table and stands to pick your beautiful necklace up himself.

you feel your lips quirk upwards at the sight of him, his suit smooth and matching your own attire. he's heartbreakingly handsome like this, suited up, and you don't think you'll ever tire from this.

"thank you." you watch bright red irises inch down your figure as you walk closer to him, taking in how good you look all dressed up. you're beaming so prettily at him, and for once katsuki finds a good reason for all these hero dinners. "put it on for me?"

you turn, back facing bakugou as he gently puts the necklace onto you. it's adorable how his fingers fumble a little with the clasp, his skin brushing up against the exposed skin at your neck as he tries to get it right.

the necklace is cool against your skin and his cologne smells too good. it's muted, yet its every note has you fighting back a blushing giggle— you'd be embarrassed for yourself if this wasn't your man. however, the giggle leaves your throat when he presses his lips against your neck, his hands dropping to hold onto your hips.

"thank you, katsu." you spin around to face him, and gosh does he wear that look he gives you so well. the softness of those features has you feeling like the only person in the world worth paying attention to. "you look so, so good."

your fingers fiddle lightly with the lapels of his blazer as you scan the admiration shaping his features. "'s that right?" amusement plays on his features, his hands sliding up to your waist, bringing you even closer to him. that grin of yours has every inch of him burning to kiss you, to show you just how perfect he thinks you are.

"mhm. got such a handsome man." your eyes sparkle up at him and he finds himself gifting you a half-smirk in return.

"'s all for you, pretty." his pretty eyes linger on your lips before looking back up to meet your eyes. "fuck, you're perfect." katsuki's so close it wouldn't take much to brush your lips against his. you laugh lightly at how intensely he's gazing at you.

finally, you meet each other halfway, pressing lingering kisses against each other. it's when your lips lock into a deeper, passion-seared kiss that you feel time threaten to slip away from your fingers. there's nothing else you'd much rather do with your time, than feel those soft lips against yours and against your skin, those warm hands trailing over every inch of you as though he would never get sick of mapping you out—

"we're gonna be late!" you're the one who breaks the kiss with a laugh, lightly hitting his chest.

"who gives a shit when you look this good?"

you laugh at the groan katsuki lets out when you get out of his grasp. "i do, kats. we'll never hear the end of it if we're late again. lemme find my phone, and we'll be off."

his eyeroll is practically audible, but he follows after you nonetheless. besides, he's sure such perfection will last long enough for him to praise it just right after this tedious dinner.

"pretty, could you please do my t—" eijirou's words die on his tongue when he catches the sight of you touching up your hair while looking into the mirror. you look so cute, all concentrated on fixing an error that wasn't even there.

"yes, eiji?" you fix your gaze into him with a smile. your eyes land to your boyfriend, his tie still very much undone and resting on his broad shoulders. "oh, your tie."

the giggle bubbles out your chest when kirishima wolf-whistles at you while you walk to him. "give us a spin, give us a spin!" laughing, you obey by twirling, earning a cheer from him that makes you laugh even more.

"you're such an idiot, eiji," your grin is wide and kirishima is so proud of being responsible for it. he has a grin wide enough to match your own and you reach out to hold his face for a little.

"and you're so, so pretty, baby. gosh, look at you." his eyes are as tender as his touch grazing the small of your back, his hands settling on your hips. "i'm the luckiest man ever, i swear."

you let go of his face, dropping your hands to do his tie. it wasn't that he didn't know how to do it himself, but there was so much magic in how lovely you looked doing it for him.

"and the manliest, most handsome man ever." you glance up at him with a smile. his red mane has grown a little longer than its usual length, so you suggested a low bun instead of his typical updo.

it's safe to say you're glad he listened.

"done!" you adjust his tie and smoothe it over his chest, beaming up at him.

eijirou dips his head down to give you a peck, and another because only one is just never enough. "thank you, baby." what a beautiful smile. "what else do you still need to do?"

"i think i'm done… wait, one last thing."

gently, you hold onto kirishima's tie, inching up its length as you eye him. as though he reads your mind, he dips down to meet you with a proper kiss. warmth settles into your stomach; it feels so unexplainably right to kiss him.

he hums as he feels his heart buzz, smiling into your kiss as he brings you in closer by your hips. it's instinct to wrap your arms around his neck and stay like that a while longer, but you catch yourself beforehand. you both had somewhere important to be.

"that's everything! time to go, traffic might worsen soon."

kirishima watches you walk away with a smile before he follows, completely ready to look at nothing but you for the rest of the night.

✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3

taglist (complete this form if you'd like to join !) :: @maeby-cursed @katsukismrs @himikoslove @pasteldaze @afairywithacrown @moonshuuls-archive @https-spacekay @k0z3me @frannky @sweeteaas @niktwazny303 @justbepeace @bookcluberror @ur-local-simp @awkwardaardvarkforever @dreamcastgirl99

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

Previous Chapter: Part 4 | Next Chapter: Part 6

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out, Smut

🚫🔞THIS IS AN ADULT BLOG CONTAINING EXPLICIT CONTENT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, A18+ ONLY.🔞🚫

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, lemon, hand job, vague references to Shoto being abused by family, reader experiences anxiety

Link to My Master List

Your alarm wakes you from a restless sleep. You blearily slap at your phone until it stops beeping and you sit up in bed.

Deep in your bones, you feel upset.

But why? Your fuzzy brain can’t seem to put all the pieces together from the night before. Then in a flash you remember – the text. The sweatshirt. YaMomo.

Oh, right. You had drifted off around 4 am after hours of agonizing and pacing around your tiny dorm room.

Maybe it was all just a weird dream? You reach out your hand and grope along your side table until you find it – Shoto’s phone. You scoop it into your arms and tap it to reveal his bland blue-sky screensaver. There are two texts on the screen – one from you, and one from Momo Yayarozo.

Momo: “Hey Shoto, you left your sweatshirt in my dorm room yesterday evening. Come pick it up tomorrow? Good night.”

Okay so this is really happening. For what feels like the billionth time, you review the facts in your head.

Fact #1: Shoto and Momo are friends. They have always been fairly close and supportive of each other.

Fact #2: Shoto left some clothing in Momo’s room. And it’s a sweatshirt – not a super strange piece of clothing to leave in a friend’s room, right? But regardless, the text indicates that Shoto has physically been in YaMomo’s room.

Fact #3: Momo is hot. That feels relevant to list out here. But you don’t know if Shoto personally finds Momo hot, which is an important detail in this investigation.

It’s probably nothing…but you can’t help the way that a nervous knot forms in your stomach as you re-read the text message for the umpteenth time. Momo and Shoto have always been…close? But how close?

An image forms in your mind of Momo, her beautiful curvy figure leaning over Shoto during a seemingly innocent study session….You shake your head. No! These are your friends! You can’t assume the worst of them. Also, didn’t you seduce Shoto during a “study session” just last night? It seems a bit hypocritical to look down on someone else for doing the same.

You resolve to confront Shoto about this in the morning, to ask him for an explanation as to why Momo is currently in possession of a Todoroki sweatshirt. As you get ready – putting on your uniform, doing a quick skincare regimen, and brushing your hair - your mind swirls with questions and more than a little doubt.

You open your closet and reach for a box of protein bars that you’ve stashed at the bottom, breaking open the box and grabbing a chocolate chip bar for your breakfast.  You toss the snack into your bag alongside Shoto’s phone. Your emotions are all twisted up in the worst way. You’re simultaneously anxious and angry. But what exactly you’re angry about, you can’t put your finger on – are you angry about the situation, about Shoto’s potential two timing? Or are you angry at yourself for agonizing over the whole thing? You’re not completely sure, but you know for a fact that your lack of sleep isn’t doing anything to help.

Scowling, you march out of your dorm room and through the common area, ignoring the various “good mornings” of your friends as you go.

“Damn what crawled up Y/N’s ass and died this morning?” you hear Sero say loudly to Mina and Ochaco as you trudge down the stairs and out onto the quad. You’re too sleep deprived and pissy to care.

As you walk, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You fish it out and look at the screen where a barrage of texts alerts take up residence on your bright lock screen. It’s your group chat with Toru and Mina, appropriately labeled “Girlie Squad.”

Toru: Y/N! What’s the deal!?

Mina: Is everything okay?

Toru: So totally rude of you to ignore us!

Mina: You look like death.

You ignore them; you don’t have the wherewithal to make up an excuse for your sour mood. You make a mental note to respond before class so they don’t suspect that anything too crazy is going on with you. Your phone buzzes again, and you’re about to text the group to back off when you notice that – oh! It’s Honenuki this time.

You open the message and see that he’s linked you to a new song. You click through and it brings you to “This Must Be the Place” by the Talking Heads. You type out a quick text.

Y/N: You moved on to the 80s?                    

Honenuki: Ha. Yeah, 80s New Wave is the vibe this week. You like the Talking Heads?

Y/N: Yeah I’m a fan. “And She Was” is a favorite of mine.

Honenuki: A woman of taste! How’s you’re week going Y/N?

Y/N: Eh kinda crappy. Classes have been crazy, and I’m in a bad mood. You?

Honenuki: *typing*

Honenuki: Yeah the hero course has been tough lately. Maybe this will help.

He sends you another song, this time its “I’m Walking On Sunshine” by Katrina and the Waves.

Honenuki: A serotonin boost. Don’t let a tough week take away your sunshine, ‘kay? Hope the day gets better!

Y/N: Thanks dude, hope you have a good one too.

You smile down at your phone. Huh, Honenuki’s actually kind of cool. You’ve got a sneaking suspicion that Class B isn’t as bad as Monoma’s immature behavior has lead you to believe. As it turns out, they’re all sort of normal. The anxiety is still bubbling around in the pit of your stomach, but having so many friends be concerned about you lessens it a tiny bit. Mina, Toru, Honenuki. It’s nice to have people looking out for you. You hope that after the conversation you’re about to have that Shoto can be a member of that list.

You have a feeling you know where Shoto is this morning, and you’re determined to confront him there.

You walk across campus in the early morning sun, dew sticking to your shoes as you plod across the damp, freshly mowed grass. You come to one of the training gymnasiums and let yourself inside. The ground floor is comprised of a gym entirely dedicated to the peers in your year. It has a ton of exercise equipment and training gear, and is open most hours of the day.

You push open the big double doors to the gym and find Todoroki in the far corner. It’s extremely early and it looks like Shoto is the only guy from your year who chose to get some reps in this morning.

He’s wearing athletic gear – basketball shorts and a tight fitting tank top – and he’s covered in sweat. He shines in the lowlight of the gym, skin glowing as he bicep curls a massive free weight in each arm. He looks like a Greek god, his physique is glorious and his muscles flex with practice skill. If you weren’t so upset, you’d worship at his feet.

He hears the door open and looks up with a start, uncurling his arms in a way that shows off his workout pump. Fuck his body should come with a warning label like: Caution: Extremely hot, do not approach unless you’re prepared to drop your panties.

“Y/N?” He says with wide-eyed surprise. He moves to put down the weights and reaches for a small white towel. He wipes the sweat off of his gorgeous brow and looks at you, confusion in his eyes. You don’t typically lift in the mornings, and you’re already in your school uniform.

You approach him briskly, your steps precise and sharp as you maneuver around various machines and pieces of workout equipment. Your steps echo in the expansive space.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, tilting his head to the side like a dog. He’s so cute you almost forget that you’re mad at him. Wordlessly, you reach into your bag and pull out his cell phone.

“Oh, my phone.” He says blankly. “That’s right, I left it in your room, didn’t I?” He reaches out and accepts the cellular device from you. “Mr. Aizawa caught me on the staircase, so I couldn’t come back to get it. I got a detention, but I don’t think it will be too bad. Thank you for bringing this back to me.” He slides the phone into his short’s pocket without a second glance.

“Did you come to workout with me?” You see there’s a hint of eagerness in his face. He slowly turns around and looks to a pile of free weights in the corner. “What weight would you like to start with? I can go get some for you.”

Before he can turn to walk away, you reach out and grab his shoulder. You feel the definition in his muscles and it makes your knees weak for a moment. Goddamn, girl. Get yourself together here. Cut to the chase.

“Why is YaMomo texting you?” You ask, trying to keep your voice level. “She said you left your sweatshirt in her room.”

Shoto doesn’t seem phased by this. He calmly removes his phone from his pocket and opens up his messages.

“Oh, she did text me. Thanks Y/N.” He types something back to Momo and hits send before pocketing the phone once more. You stand there in disbelief as he acts like nothing odd has happened.

“You’re in your uniform. Do you want to go and change? There’s still plenty of time before homeroom if you want to get a few reps in. I can spot you if you want to do some deadlifts.” He says helpfully, using the towel again to wipe off his perfectly formed shoulders. “I never see you workout in the mornings, did you come just to see me?” He smiles mischievously, but you can tell that he’s genuinely thrilled that you’ve joined him.

“Shoto.” You say, ignoring his offer. “Why did you leave your sweatshirt in Momo’s room?”

“Hmm.” His expression crinkles a bit as he thinks back. “I guess I must have taken it off while we were studying. Her room is pretty stuffy. She has way too much furniture crammed into her dorm. I told her she should get a smaller bed.”

“So when you were with her…you were just ‘studying’?” You prompt, annoyed that he doesn’t seem to grasp the gravity of the situation here. Is he trying to pull one over on you?

“Yes. We did a short review of the quadratic equations we’ve been working on in class this month. YaMomo put together a review session for Kaminari, Jiro and I. Well mostly for Kaminari, but I still found the material helpful.” He stretches, hands behind his head. “Would you like to join our next math review? Momo makes quite a good teacher. She’s a great friend for organizing so many study groups.”

You look at him in disbelief, your jaw hanging open. Oh my god. OH. MY. GOD. Did you stay up half the night blowing A TEXT completely out of proportion!? Holy crap did you just spend hours worrying and agonizing and imagining fake scenarios over absolutely NOTHING!? You’re enraged with yourself. How could you let one tiny text absolutely destroy you like that? You’re supposed to be a level-headed hero! And right now you’re acting like some kind of lovesick middle schooler. Grow the fuck up Y/N! This is not how a normal person acts!

You’re absolutely spiraling inside, ashamed of the way you’ve been absolutely tearing yourself apart worrying that Shoto had two timed you with Momo. How silly. How ridiculous. Shoto and Momo are both you’re friends and somehow your horny Neanderthal brain made them both into enemies at the drop of a hat. You feel like an awful person for thinking of Shoto and Momo in such a horrible light.

“What’s wrong?” Shoto says slowly, bringing you back to reality. Your head is absolutely spinning. You’re exhausted and shaky, anxiety still coursing through your veins. Shoto shuffles forward to get a closer look at you, concerned. He reaches out to put a hand on your waist. “Are you not feeling well?” His voice is tinged with concern and he’s looking at you with such warm eyes it makes you want to die.

“I’m feeling fine.” You snap, and Shoto instantly flinches away at your sharp tone. He recoils almost like a child that’s been admonished. His exposed fear at your harsh words makes you feel even sicker to your stomach. It makes you wonder again at how he’s treated at home. You have so many emotions flowing through you at once that you aren’t sure how to respond. Embarrassed, exhausted and unsure of yourself, you turn and walk away.

“Y/N – wait! What’s wrong?” He calls after you as you quickly weave around the gym equipment.

“I’m fine.” You say again in a clipped tone, not having the strength to look back at him.

You leave Shoto confused and alone in the large space.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stomp your way to the classroom building. Your stomach is riling and you have too many emotions to count.

You text Mina and Toru in your group chat. You send them a vague excuse about waking up on the wrong side of the bed or some shit. Mina responds that she didn’t sleep well either and Toru sends a heart emoji. You assume all is forgiven.

Much to your class’s surprise, Recovery Girl is standing in Mr. Aizawa’s usual place when you all arrive.

“Does this mean what I think it means?” Toru whispers as she takes her seat. You ignore her, still stewing. You can’t make sense of your feelings right now…why are you so damn angry? You’re certain that Shoto is telling the truth – it was just a study session in Momo’s room. You could easily ask Kaminari or Jiro to corroborate his story.

It’s not the study session that’s making you angry though…it’s the way you stayed up all night obsessing about Momo and Shoto’s friendship. The potential hookup. What it would mean if Shoto was seeing other people, despite your discussion about keeping the intimacy monogamous.

You’re embarrassed and ashamed. And now you’re even more abashed of the way you spoke to Shoto.

“Hello class. Aizawa had to take the morning off to attend to some personal matters, so we’re going to dive into our first Sex Ed lesson today ahead of your English class.”

The class groans.

“Don’t worry everyone, this one is quick. It’s just a stepping stone to our larger conversations.” She says kindly, peering up at them through her thick glasses. “Today we’re just going to chat about interpersonal relationships, specifically about how boundaries and strong communication can lead to stronger relationships. This is going to play directly into your friendships, into your hero work, and, eventually, into intimate relationships as well.”

“Who knows what a boundary is?” She looks around expectantly, but no one raises their hand. Everyone is too nervous to engage. She sighs. “Alright, well to start: when we set a boundary, we establish clear limits or guidelines about how we want to be treated. We may define what behaviors are acceptable to us or not. Can anyone think of a good example of what a boundary may be?”

Uraraka raises her hand. “Could a boundary be asking someone not to call you a certain name? Like if Midoriya told Bakugo that being called ‘Deku’ was crossing a boundary for him, it would be wrong of Bakugo to continue using the name, right?”

“Keep my name out of your mouth, pink cheeks!”

“Sounds like Bakugo is crossing the name calling boundary already!” Mina calls out mockingly, and Katsuki looks at her with eyes full of fire and brimstone.

“Settle down! Yes, Uraraka. That’s a good example of a boundary. Boundaries can also be physical or emotional. I’ll give some applicable examples: during training you may feel the need to tell your sparring partner that you aren’t comfortable with your face or chest being touched. In a friendship, you might set a boundary with that person requesting that they not share private personal information about you with other friends. In a dating relationship, you may set boundaries surrounding physical intimacy. The boundaries you set depend on your feelings and needs, as well as the relationship. The most important part of boundary setting is clear communication. Be direct about your feelings and need for a boundary, and don’t be afraid to verbally reiterate to reinforce the boundary. Any questions?”

You see Shoto’s hand lift towards the ceiling. You look over at him and your stomach rolls.

“Yes, Shoto?”

“Say a friend is mad at you, and you’re not sure why. Can I set a boundary in the future requesting that they be direct with me and communicate their feelings as clearly as possible?” He looks straight ahead, careful not to meet your eyes.

Recovery Girl’s mouth quirks a bit. “That is…an oddly specific question.”

She thinks about it for a moment then smiles at Shoto. “But yes, setting clear boundaries surrounding your communication needs is perfectly reasonable. A good step would be to meet this friend in a neutral area and to request that they have an open and honest conversation with you about how they are feeling and why. Tell them that in the future, you would like to have an open line of communication with them and that it upsets you when you don’t understand their feelings. Be sure to underscore that you want to understand them better, and you care about them. Of course, it is important to note that sometimes your boundaries will not be considered or respected. Your friend may not be willing to sit down with you and have a conversation. All relationships are complex and everyone has their own needs that they want met. The best we can do is be respectful of one another and try to approach difficult interpersonal situations with as much empathy and grace as possible.”

Shoto considers this, and nods with understanding.

“Does anyone else have a question about boundaries?”

Mineta raises his hand but begins speaking without being called on. “I think we all know that my boundaries are to see as much of the girls’ boobs and butts as I can. If the ladies of the class could all respect my boundary by having their assets on display as much as possible, it would be much appreciated.”

The lesson ends there.

Mineta is sent to the Principle’s office and Recovery Girl gives them a long lecture about respect and body autonomy. Present Mic comes in halfway through to start his English class. One look at Recovery Girl’s angry face is enough to send him packing, and he doesn’t pluck up the courage to come back and begin his class until 15 minutes have elapsed.

You think about Shoto’s question and feel a stab of shame. Shoto isn’t the best at understanding people, and he comes from a volatile home life where it sounds like his father’s anger is often weaponized. Of course he’s hurt and confused at your seemingly mysterious anger towards him. You wonder if he’s full of anxiety as well. You really shouldn’t have just left him in the dust this morning.

You glance over at Shoto, but he’s still staring straight ahead. His eyes are focused on Present Mic and the chalkboard, but they look a little glazed over. He’s not taking notes. He’s clearly deep in thought about something. You wonder if he’s thinking about you.

Crap, you really screwed this one up.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the day goes by pretty fast. There is the usual blur of classes, training, sparring and lunch. Mr. Aizawa reappears for combat training later in the day. He does not share an explanation as to where he has been. Instead, he doubles down on training and makes everyone work twice as hard as usual.

Shoji lays you out on your ass during said combat training and you’re absolutely sure your legs are going to bloom with bruises later on. He apologizes profusely but you shake it off and tell him it was a great throw. The way you had flown through the air must truly have been a sight to behold, as other students are taking a break from their work to come and check that you are okay. Shoji, still incredibly embarrassed, offers to take you to Recovery Girl for a quick once-over.

You catch Shoto’s gaze watching with concern from across the room where he’s sparring with Tokoyami. The momentary lapse in his attention allows for Dark Shadow to hit him square in the chest. He falls back on his own ass and blinks up at Tokoyami with wide-eyed shock.

“You’ve been woefully distracted lately, Todoroki.” You overhear Tokoyami say to Shoto as he pulls the fallen hero back to his feet. “Is everything okay?”

You feel a mixture of shame and embarrassment pool in your stomach as you realize that you’ve been ruining Shoto’s focus. An anxious, terrible thought creeps into your brain…maybe Shoto is better off without you tangled up in his life. You’re a distraction from his hero training, and he from yours. Plus, you’ve most definitely hurt him with the way you jumped to conclusions and then left him to sit with your angry vibes. Maybe for Shoto’s sake…maybe you need to break this off sooner rather than later? You shake your head in an effort to clear the thought from your mind.

“Y/N…are you sure you don’t want to go to Recovery Girl? You’re definitely going to have some nasty bruises from the way you hit the ground.” Shoji tries one more time. You wave him off, starting to get annoyed at the way everyone is dotting on you. Your nerves are absolutely fried.

“No, no. It was my fault for not breaking my own fall. I need to be more careful. Let’s go one more time – but give me a second or two to practice my counter move so we can see if it would be effective against your dupli-arms.” Shoji nods and squares up to you, giving you a moment to collect yourself and get into a position with more leverage. You train together for a few more rounds of sparring before Mr. Aizawa comes around and adjusts your posture to better protect your body from damage. You’re annoyed at the correction, but grateful for the advice.

After combat training, you shower and roll back to the classroom for your final lesson of the day – math. Ugh. You settle back into your desk, taking out your notebook and pencils and trying to convince your brain to cooperate for one last hour.

During the class, Mina passes you a hot pink post-it note that has two quick sentences scribbled out in her neat script: “Stage Two: Rendezvous in the Library at 8pm. Be sure you aren’t followed.”

You roll your eyes at her and tuck the note into your book bag. Mina’s flare for the dramatic could be the thing that blows this whole party operation; you need to keep her in check. You pull out your planner and scribble a quick reminder to meet up with Mina, Toru and Nieto in the evening.

You’re tired and angsty and anxious – to be perfectly honest, you’re not in the mood for a dose of party planning and strategy tonight. In fact, you’d rather take a second, longer shower and spend the evening brooding in your room. You need to figure out how you’ll make things right with Shoto. And you need to determine if hooking up is posing for too much of a distraction to you both. You return to your quadratic equations, morale low and enthusiasm for math crumbling.

The day ends unceremoniously. You pack up your bag, stuffing your notebooks and pens into the small book bag as best you can. Your math textbook peaks out at the top and you can’t zip it all the way. You want to throw it at the wall, you’re so frustrated. What a shitty day it’s been.

Your phone buzzes as you walk through the door. You open it up to see a text from Shoto.

Shoto: Y/N. I don’t understand why you’re upset with me. Will you walk with me back to the dorms so we can discuss your feelings?

Ugh. You totally knew this was coming. You turn and see Shoto packing up his own bag back in the classroom. There are a few other stragglers from Class A – you watch as he attempts to hang back. He looks up at you and finally catches your eye. He looks sad, his expressive eyes shining with more than a little hurt. You nod at him before turning back down to your phone.

Y/N: Of course, I’ll wait for you outside of the classroom.

You loiter outside the classroom door for a moment, nodding at your classmates as they pass through the threshold and make their way back to the dorm building. Shoto is the last to exit; his fine brown leather backpack slung over one shoulder. The bright afternoon sunlight shines through the hallway windows and dances upon his fair face. It highlights the bright scar that encircles his left eye, giving it an almost fiery glow. He’s so gorgeous he could be a model.

“I saw you got your ass kicked by Tokoyami today.” You try to joke, but the comment just comes out lame. The two of you start making your way towards the exit, the sunlight streaming across your bare arms and wrapping you in a glow of warmth. The feeling is oddly comforting. You take a few steadying breaths as you prepare yourself for a tough conversation.

“Yes. I was distracted. I saw Shoji throw you to the ground and I was worried that you were hurt.” Shoto says, straightforward as ever. He fixes his gaze on the hallway ahead, not daring to look over at you.

A flicker of anger and madness licks at your insides. You try taking a deep breath to keep your emotions at bay, but you almost can’t help yourself when you snap out: “You can’t worry about me like that. I can hold my own in battle. I got into UA on my own merits, after all.” A beat. “You need to trust that I can handle myself.”

You’re on edge and upset at yourself, and once again today you’re taking it out on poor Shoto. “I’m not some damsel in distress. I’m going to be a hero.” You say with feeling, adjusting your backpack so the straps don’t dig into your shoulders as much. Damn, you’ve got too many books crammed into this thing.

Shoto is silent for a moment. He turns to stare out one of the large sunlit windows, gathering his thoughts. You give him some time. He takes a deep breath before he turns back towards you, his eyes bright.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Y/N. Is that why you’re mad at me – do you feel that I’ve been underestimating your abilities? Because I assure you its quite the opposite. I hold you in such a high regard, you are nothing but impressive to me.” He turns so he can focus his full attention on you, his mismatched eyes fit to burn a hole through your heart. The kind words roll off of his tongue sweet like honey, and you believe him. He thinks so highly of you. You’ve always known this. And yet, you needed him to repeat it. You need to be reminded, or else the anxious thoughts will have you in a chokehold.

“I truly think you are amazing.” At his words, the prickly anxious energy surrounding your heart and mind dissipates a bit.

“Shoto…I’m not mad at you. I’m not even sure how to explain why I was so dismissive of you this morning.” You say, trying your best to pin down a few of the swirling thoughts in your mind.

“Can you try?” He asks softly. “Recovery Girl said that I should be direct and ask questions. I would like to have an open line of communication with you, because I care about you and it has been hurting me all day that I can’t understand the way you’re feeling. Are you willing to discuss this?”

“Of course Shoto.” You say, trying to come up with the right words to describe your feelings. Your whole body aches from your sparring session with Shoji, and you’re so tired you feel like you could shut your eyes and fall asleep where you stand. Talking about feelings is the absolute last thing you want to do right now, but Shoto deserves an explanation and an apology. You try to adjust your backpack straps again, but it does nothing to alleviate the stiffness in your back.

“Here, Y/N. I know you’re a strong hero and that you can hold your own, but please let me help you with your backpack. It looks uncomfortable.” Shoto reaches out and slips the backpack strap off your shoulders. You feel instant relief – you lift your arms high over your head and feel your shoulders crack as you stretch out the muscles.

“Thank you. I’m not feeling my best.” You continue to run through some basic stretches and roll out your muscles as you explain how shocked you were to see the text from Momo come through the night before. “I wasn’t snooping on your phone, I promise. I would never violate your privacy like that. But I flipped it over and saw the message. I misinterpreted Momo’s text…I thought that when she said you’d left your sweatshirt in her room…well I thought it implied that the two of you had hooked up.”

Shoto’s eyes grow round with surprise, his eyebrows shoot up into his neat two toned hair. “You thought that Momo and I…?”

“Yeah. My imagination and my anxiety went into overdrive and I was up all night wrecked with worry.”

“But Y/N, I told you that I only want to be intimate with you. What reason would I have to lie to you?”

“Anxiety is a brutal thing. I spiraled out of control and assumed the worst. And then when you had a perfectly reasonable explanation for why your sweatshirt was in her room…I was ashamed at how upset and needy I let myself get over the whole thing.” You hang your head in shame, unable to look him straight in the face. “I was up most of the night anxious about the situation and I let it consume me. I was mad at myself, and I took it out on you. I’m so sorry Shoto, that was wrong of me.” Your eyes focus on the floor beneath you.

“Y/N.” You feel Shoto’s hand reach out to take your own. It’s his cool hand – it feels refreshing to have your fingers wrapped around each other in the sunny glare of the wide UA windows. “It’s alright. I’m not upset with you. That makes a lot of sense, and now I understand why you feel the way you do. But I hope you believe me when I say I only want to be intimate that way with you.” He rubs his thumb across your hand lightly, the gentle touch sending goose bumps up your arms. “I like Momo as a friend – but that’s all. I promise.” He squeezes your hand lightly, a physical manifestation of his assurance.

You look up into Shoto’s face and his gaze is open, warm. He repeats: “I’m not upset with you.”

“But you should be!” You burst out, nerves still buzzing. “I was so cold to you this morning, and I clearly hurt your feelings.” You pause, your emotions welling up and bubbling too close to the surface for comfort. “And…and I’m too much of a distraction to you. Ever since we started hooking up, you’ve been less engaged in class and in training. I just can’t stomach the thought of holding your hero training back because you’re too focused on me.”

This is clearly not what Shoto was expecting you to say, because his mouth hangs open in surprise. He stands in the hallway, flabbergasted.

The hallway is silent, save for simple notes of birdsong wafting through a nearby open window.

Shoto looks at you now, narrowing his eyes. “Hey, Y/N…I am going to ask you a question and I don’t want you to think I’m being demeaning here. But…when was the last time you had a full night’s sleep? You look exhausted.”

You blink at him, confused for a moment. But then you realize its true – you’re utterly drained and you haven’t gotten a good nights’ sleep all week. In between late night study sessions and your hookups with Shoto, you’ve really been burning the midnight oil. And then, of course, there’s the way you’d kept yourself up the night before agonizing over the text from Momo…

“It’s been a while.” You say slowly.

“I think that maybe you need to relax a bit. I’m not mad at you. You’re not distracting me. In fact, you’ve done nothing but enhance my life since we’ve started seeing each other more…intimately. You let me just be myself around you. I can’t convey to you how much that’s helped me lately. I need you to believe that.”

You nod. He’s being far too kind to you.

Shoto uses his free hand to check his phone for the time. You see his boring blue sky phone background light up briefly before he re-pockets the device.

“It’s 4:00 right now. Do you have time to rest before dinner?” He asks gently, squeezing your hand again.

“Yes. I don’t have anything planned until 8 o’clock tonight.” You say, thinking back to Mina’s note.

“Good. Then I’m escorting to your room and enforcing a mandatory nap.” He uncouples your hands and marches forward towards the dorms. You follow behind; head foggy with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Shoto isn’t mad at you.

Within minutes, you’re back in the Class A dorms. Most of your classmates are scattered across the campus – fitting in some last minute training in the gym or working through homework in the library. You feel guilty – you should be in one of those places, too. You need to work towards your goal of becoming stronger, becoming a hero. You voice these concerns to Shoto as he leads you through the empty hallway and towards your dorm room.

“Heroes need rest, too.” He says simply, dismissing your worries with a wave of his hand. “How can you become stronger if your exhausted?” He has a point there.

You turn your key in the lock and push your door open. The two of you enter the tiny dorm and you lock the door behind you. Shoto places the two backpacks on the floor near your desk and turns to you expectantly.

“Where do you keep your comfortable clothes?”

“Um, in the second drawer on the right.” You direct.

He moves to your dresser and opens the aforementioned drawer, drawing out a pair of cream-colored sweatpants and a grey tank top. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the pieces are not a matching set. He tosses the outfit in your direction and tells you to change. Meanwhile, he grabs the water bottle off of your nightstand and walks to your tiny bathroom to fill it for you. You hastily change in his absence and throw your worn uniform in your hamper for washing.

Shoto returns with a full water bottle and a damp cloth. He sets the bottle back on your nightstand and tugs you to your bed. You pull down the covers and climb up into the fluffy monstrosity, tucking your cold feet under the covers.

Shoto climbs up with you and sits next to you. He brings the cloth to your face – it’s damp with warm water. He lightly dabs at your cheeks, eyebrows and forehead, refreshing your skin in an insanely sweet gesture. “My mom used to do this for me before I went to bed.” He mumbles under his breath. “It always helped me sleep better.”

When he’s done, he presses a kiss to your forehead. You flush at the tenderness of his actions, overwhelmed with gratitude but feeling unworthy of his gentle attention.

“Drink some water.” He says before sliding off the bed and moving to ring out the cloth in the bathroom sink. You oblige, grabbing your water bottle and taking several large gulps of the cool liquid.

You feel ten times more relaxed than you had in class today. The loose clothes feel comforting on your aching body, and your face feels fresh and clean from Shoto’s attention. You lay your head down on your soft pillow and exhale deeply.

Shoto exits the bathroom, shaking the excess water from his hands.

“I’m sorry to be such a burden to you, Shoto.”

Shoto looks at you with a piercing gaze, almost angry.

“Y/N. I care about you – it is not a burden to take care of you when you need it. All I ask is that you are more open with your feelings next time. Don’t bottle things up and keep me in the dark.” He walks over to his book bag and reaches inside to grab one of your English class books – The Great Gatsby.

“Alright…I can be more open with you for sure. I’m sorry I was so harsh and mysterious this morning, I was processing too much and I got myself all worked up thinking that you and Momo had…well, you know.”

“Momo and I are good friends. You and I are also good friends but we have a more intimate relationship. There is nothing to be jealous about. As I said - I don’t care for Momo in the same way that I care for you.” He states simply, climbing back up beside you with his book in hand. “Here, turn onto your side and I can use my quirk as a heating pad on your back like last time.”

“You sure? I don’t need you to go to all this trouble…” You trail off as you feel his calloused hand works its way under your tank top. He spreads his fingertips wide as he cradles your lower back in his powerful hand. You feel him slowly start to modulate his temperature and the heat feels delightful against your aching muscles.

“Let me do nice things for you. I want you to relax. Now close your eyes and take a nap – I’ll wake you up before dinner.” He settles in next to you and you turn onto your side to give him better access to your back. He adjusts his position and props himself up against a few of your plushies. He flips his book open with his free hand and starts to read, brow furrowed in concentration.

You drift off, drawing comfort from the heat of Shoto’s left hand. You feel your muscles relaxing into his warm touch, the pains of the day melting like butter on a hot plate. You stretch out your legs into a more comfortable position and bury your face into your pillow.

“Thanks Shoto.” You sigh, letting your heavy eyelids drop. You feel so comfortable and safe; it’s not hard to let yourself fall into a soft, dreamless sleep.

True to his word, Shoto wakes you up two and a half hours later with a gentle shake of your shoulder. You blink up at him, bleary eyed. He smiles down at you, eyes soft as ever. It’s funny that you’ve never really noticed this – his face can be so blank and stoic, but all of the emotion shines through his pretty mismatched eyes.

“Did you have a good nap?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your brow before getting to his feet.

“Yeah…I feel like a totally new person.” You say. And its true – you feel refreshed and 90% better than you had earlier this afternoon. Your training aches and pains are still present, but have subsided a bit under Shoto’s gentle heat. Shoto hands you your water bottle and encourages you to take a few more gulps before getting out of bed. You indulge him, making a show of draining the bottle before you slide out from under the covers. You stand and wrap your arms around him, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Thank you Shoto.”

Shoto returns the hug, taking care to run his hand up and down your back in a comforting gesture. “We take care of each other.” He says simply.

“How’s the book?” You ask as he breaks the hug and walks to his backpack, tucking his copy of The Great Gatsby amongst his notebooks.

“I finished it.” He says, scooping the bag up and onto his shoulders. “I don’t want to spoil the ending for you, but I’ll say this – it’s not a happy book.”

“Oh. Well I wasn’t really looking forward to it anyway. I much prefer sci-fi to the classics.” This seems to surprise Shoto, his eyebrows quirk up into his bangs in a gesture that’s rapidly becoming familiar.

“Sci-fi? Wow, I learn new things about you every day.” His tone is filled with surprise. “You’ll have to lend me one of your favorites sometime.” He checks the time on his phone, his factory default background glowing in the lowlight. “I should get going so I can drop my bag off in my room before dinner.”

“Hold on a sec – can I see your phone?” You hold out your hand, palm open. He looks at you for a moment, curious.

“Is this something to do with YaMomo again?” He asks, handing you the device.

“Not at all – I just noticed you have a basic-ass phone background. I think we need to change it to be more you, ya know?” You say, opening his Internet browser app and going to Google images.

“Oh, I’ve never really thought about that before.” He says, leaning to look over your shoulder curiously. “What are you thinking?”

“I feel like lately when we talk you’ve revealed that you like ocean creatures. That whale pillow on Pinterest? The Squirtle plushie? You seem to really like the sea vibe.” You say, typing a quick prompt into the search bar under Todoroki’s watchful eye.

“Huh, that’s true. I find the ocean to be very calming. And the creatures are usually cute.” He wraps his arms around you from behind as the image results populate on the screen. “Oh – I like that one a lot.” He points at a tiny thumbnail image and you click to expand it. It’s an old Lisa Frank design depicting two dolphins leaping out of crystal blue water. The art features a rainbow background of colorful corals and palm trees. It’s vibrant and filled with energy, and seems to fill Shoto with excitement as he buzzes behind you eagerly.

“Oh, I like that one too! All the colors are really nice. Let’s see how it looks as your phone background.” You smile as you save the image and set it as Shoto’s phone screen. He gives you a brief squeeze around the middle as he hugs you, bringing his chin down to rest on your shoulder as he watches you work your tech wizardry. You feel warm and fuzzy inside – Shoto is truly opening up to you. It feels like each day you chip away at his stoic exterior to reveal bits and pieces of his true self.

You hold up the phone and he unfurls an arm from where he’s holding you. He brings the phone to his face and smiles down at his new technicolor dolphin lock screen. You reach up a hand to cup his cheek tenderly and he leans into the touch.

“Thanks, Y/N. I really like this.” He says, turning his phone every which way to admire the artwork. He’s always surprising you. You’re happy he’s starting to get comfortable showing off his true self.

“Of course, Shoto. You should surround yourself with things that make you happy!” You feel your stomach growl and you remember that dinner is only minutes away. “We should really get going, shouldn’t we?” You both laugh as your tummy rumbles again.

Shoto unwinds his from around your stomach and gets to his feet. “Mind checking to see if the coast is clear? I’ll drop off my bag in my room and then see you at the common area.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You slide off the bed, unlock the door and peer out into the hallway. Thankfully, there’s no one in sight. You have a feeling that most of the class is already down in the common area assisting with dinner preparations.

“All clear.” You give Shoto a goofy little salute before opening the door wide for him to exit. He smiles and leans down to place a kiss on your cheek before booking it down the hallway. He hits the staircase and he’s out of sight in a blink of an eye.

You smile and head back inside your room, moving to change into a top that better matches your sweatpants. It feels nice to be taken care of. You wonder how Shoto knew exactly what you needed in order to feel better. Sometimes he seems so…out of touch. And yet, as soon as you need something he seems to lock in and know just what to do. You suspect that’s the true mark of a hero – seeing someone in need and figuring out a way to help. Who would have thought that Shoto Todoroki would become your own personal hero!?

In the dorm, Class A takes turns cooking with everyone rotating meal prep responsibilities. Tonight, Bakugo, Kirishima and Ida are handling the meal and you know it will be delicious. For some reason, Katsuki has some insane cooking skills. The smell of cooking vegetables wafts up from the kitchen and your stomach growls again in response. You leave your room, ambling down to meet the rest of your class in the kitchen area.

You feel much lighter, much happier. Shoto Todoroki is a goddamn prince of a man.

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“Alright, Mineta. We need you to do this for us.”

It’s 8:05 pm and you, Toru, Mina, Nieto Monoma and Minoru Mineta are all holed up in a study room within the Geography section of UA’s oversized library. Nieto purposefully chose this location for your clandestine rendezvous because “no one at this school studies goddamn geography, so it’s the perfect secret meeting spot.”

Mina had invited Mineta with a secret post it note as well. She had passed him a hot pink note in between classes. The note had implied that the two would be having a private meeting to discuss the “raw romantic tension between them.” Needless to say, Mineta had been extremely disappointed to find you, Toru and Nieto all waiting alongside Mina in the geography study room.

After a few not-so-sincere apologies, Nieto and Toru had gotten right to the heart of the matter and explained their master plan and Mineta’s potential role in it. The small purple classmate had listened intently; nodding as Toru unrolled schematics and Nieto explained timing and strategy. He seems genuinely interested in the party plot, and for a moment you think that he might say yes and help you all pull this off.

“What’s in it for me?” Ah, there’s the kicker alright. He looks around at you all expectantly.

Mina crosses her arms and stares him down. “The gratitude of our class and the joy of knowing you helped out your classmates.”

“No way. I want something out of this.” He rubs his hands together, scheming. “If I’m going to participate in this crazy ass plan so that you all can throw some stupid party, I better get something out of it. So here’s my price - 7 minutes in heaven. With each of you.” He looks at Mina challengingly.

“First of all – that’s 21 minutes in heaven. And second of all – majorly GROSS!” Toru bursts out, turning to you for confirmation. You shake your head in disgust as well, ready for Mina to jump in and negotiate terms.

“Absolutely not.” Your pink friend says, her antenna bristling.

“You’re not really in a position to be negotiating, are you?” Mineta leers up at you all. “After all, you need something from me. You should be grateful I’m even thinking about helping out with your crazy scheme considering how much trouble you got our class in last time.”

Mina makes a sour face. Honestly, he kind of has a point.

“7 minutes in heaven is off the table. Name something else.” She spits out, her dark eyes murderous.

“Fine. I get a kiss from each of you. And I get to grope Hagakure’s ass at least once.”

“What!! Why my ass!?” Toru explodes, waving her arms in upset.

Mineta salivates. “Because I have no idea how juicy it is. Just give me one good squeeze so I can truly know.”

“You absolute perv!” Toru roars, reaching out to grab Mineta and give him a good thrashing. You catch your friend’s invisible hands before she can rain down terror on the little miscreant.

“Hey you’re the ones who want to play Spin The Bottle and watch our classmates kiss. You’re just as pervy as me.” Mineta levels you all with a superior look. “I bet Monoma here is getting something good out of this deal, so why shouldn’t I?” He gestures up at Monoma, who up until now has stayed completely silent. This is all part of Mina’s strategy. Ahead of the meeting, she had advised Nieto to keep his talking to a minimum since its likely Mineta wouldn’t trust him.

“What are they promising you in exchange for your help?” The little creep asks Nieto.

“That’s none of your business.” You say, squaring up to your classmate. You decide to play into his insecurities. All’s fair in love and war, right!?

“Look, Mineta. We need your help to get this party off the ground. You’re the only one who can do this job, and it would mean the world to all of our classmates if you went through with it. You’d literally be hailed as the coolest guy in our class. Isn’t that enough? You don’t exactly have the most social clout at the moment.”

Mineta looks at you for a long minute, clearly weighing all of his options. He seems unfazed by your comment about his “coolness” factor.

“Nope. I want whatever he’s getting.” He points at Monoma, who gives him an unhinged look.

“You Class A stooges are so entitled!” He booms, laughing a bit maniacally. Mina smacks the back of his head to give him a hard reset.

“Stay with us, Nieto.” She turns back to Mineta. “Okay in the spirit of transparency, we are helping Monoma get a kiss during Spin The Bottle. To keep things fair, we can guarantee one kiss for you as well. Tell us who you want to kiss, and it will be delivered upon successful completion of work.”

“Heh.” Mineta smirks evilly. “Fine, I accept your terms. For my kiss I choose…Y/N!” He points directly at you, blood dripping from his nose.

You look at your friends and shrug. Unenthusiastically you say: “Fine. Why not.”

“My ass thanks you.” Toru squeaks out, covering her behind with invisible hands. Nieto glares down at Mineta in disgust, but lets you continue to do the talking.

“If this will get our party off the ground, I’m willing to do it.” You look down at Mineta. “Here are the conditions – It’s gonna be a single kiss. Lips closed, no tongue. No groping. No touching. Lips only. Got that?”

Mineta nods eagerly. “Don’t worry. Once you get one taste of these lips, you’ll be begging for more.” He turns back to Mina, awaiting instructions. “So what do you need me to do?”

You all return to the dorms forty minutes later, with plenty of time to get back to your separate rooms before the curfew takes effect.

A battle plan has been drawn out, and commitments have been made. You have a sour taste in your mouth at the thought of your eventual kiss with Mineta, but sacrifices must be made. After all, the fate of the party of the century hangs in the balance.

You make a mental note to make sure that Shoto is cool with all of this – after all, it would be super hypocritical for you to be jealous of Shoto’s non-existent relationship with YaMomo, and then to turn around and give another guy a peck on the mouth.

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When you finally make it back to your dorm, you’re riding an absolute high. You and your friends are planning the biggest secret party in UA history, and with the kickass strategy you all have developed, you anticipate the whole thing going off without a hitch. Monoma truly is a genius – you can’t wait to see his tightly orchestrated plan come to life. The man truly loves pulling all the strings behind the scenes.

Thanks to your nap, you’re feeling a bit more rested and energized. You text Shoto.

Y/N: Hey Shoto, you up?

Shoto: It’s only 9. Of course I’m awake.

Y/N: Have time to come through? I want to properly thank you for taking care of me earlier.

Shoto: I just finished some homework, I can come over for a bit before curfew.

Y/N: Perf! I have the perfect idea of how I can return the favor and TAKE CARE OF YOU! 👀

Shoto: I’m nervous. The all caps coming from you is aggressive.

Y/N: That was supposed to be cute and flirty 😉 Don’t be scared!! ☠️

Shoto: Ok. I’ll be down in 5.

True to his word, Shoto arrives in a timely fashion. He slips through your unlocked door like a ghost in the night.

“Hey, Y/N. How was your meeting with Mina and…?”

His jaw drops in surprise when he looks up to find you in nothing but your bra and panties. It’s a matching set – midnight blue and lacy around the edges. You’re feeling bold.

“I was trying to think of a way that I could properly thank you for taking such good care of me earlier…” You trail off, reaching behind him to turn the lock to your door.

“…And I came up with an idea. Get on the bed?” You ask sweetly. Shoto wastes no time obeying your request. He hurriedly scrambles onto the bed with the speed of a teenage boy who’s been promised a sexual favor. You climb up after him, lifting the hem of his t-shirt suggestively.

“Clothes off.” You say, tugging at the shirt a bit to see a flash of his perfect stomach before dropping the fabric from your fingertips.

Shoto doesn’t need telling twice – he strips, pulling the shirt over his head with lightening fast reflexes. His perfectly toned abs glow under the fairy lights, and you lick your lips at the sight. He hurriedly slips his sweatpants down his hips and takes them off one leg at a time, still managing to look graceful despite his frantic energy.

He throws his pants out onto the floor, out of sight. He’s wearing a pair of loose grey boxer shorts, his hardening cock already visible through the thin fabric. You reach out a hand to trace along the outline of his pulsing member, causing him to get even stiffer under your teasing touch. He looks down at you with that heaven-piercing gaze. Perfect.

You lean towards him, ghosting gentle kisses along the curve of his pale neck.  “What do you want Shoto?” You breathe wetly into his ear, running your hand down his bare chest. “Tell me, and I’ll make it happen.” You hear Shoto’s breath catch in his throat at the implication. An open ended offer is a valuable thing – you wonder how he’ll use it?

“I’m thinking…maybe you could do that thing with your hands again?” He says sheepishly, pupils blown wide as he watches you palm at his dick over his boxers.

“You mean a hand job? Are you asking for a hand job?” You say, laughing, as he blushes crimson as his hair.

“I guess I am.” He says, breathing shakily. He leans down into your hair and mumbles “It feels so much better when you do it. I’ve been trying to replicate it on my own but…it’s just not the same.”

You smile. “I can definitely do that for you. Tell me, how badly do you want it?” You ask in a tone that’s barely above a whisper. You squeeze his package lightly over the boxers. He almost moans at the touch.

“I want it…so badly Y/N. Please.”

The light begging sparks something in your core and you’re already so wet you fear you may soak through your panties. Again. Wow, this is becoming quite a bad habit of yours.

“Take off the boxers.” You command softly, and Shoto accommodates – stripping down to nothing. Once again, here is thisa beautiful man buck naked in your bed. It’s enough to make you see fireworks behind your eyes.

He sits there, fully exposed, his cock hard and laying flush against his taught muscled stomach. You long to reach out and take him in your hand, but you know you know you need to be patient.

“Shoto, you said you’ve been trying to replicate the hand job I gave you?” You ask amiably. He nods. “I want you to show me how you like to do it on your own. Show me how you touch yourself, Sho.”

He glances up at you uncertainly through thick lashes, looking between you and his cock with trepidation. “Are you sure? Would that not be…weird?”

“Not at all!” You reassure him. “It’s the best way for me to learn how to pleasure you. I want to see what you like so I can add it into the mix. It’s like hero training – we need to learn from each other to be the best we can be.”

This analogy makes perfect sense to Shoto, who understands the importance of training. “Alright. If it would help. But I feel pretty self-conscious right now.”

“That’s perfectly understandable.” You say, placing another string of kisses to his jawline. “Try not to be too nervous. Remember - we’re just having fun and exploring, right?” You pause. “Plus…it would be really fuckin’ hot to see you jerk yourself off in my bed. So know that I’m completely and totally into this. If that helps.”

This makes Shoto smile. “It actually does help.” He laughs softly, turning his head to capture your lips in a brief smooch.

“Right.” Shoto says, drawing in a shaky breath. He looks at you nervously, before glancing down at his erect cock once more. He reaches for it, wraps his fingers around himself and gives a light tug. You watch as he slowly starts stroking at himself, concentrating a bit more on the head here and there. He glances up at you from time to time, letting his eyes roam across your breasts and the gentle curves of your hips.

You move the straps of your bra off your shoulders, giving him a bit of a show before you reach behind you to unclip the bra all together. You toss the fabric to the floor in what’s rapidly becoming a familiar gesture with Shoto. His breath hitches in the back of his throat as his eyes take in your perfect breasts. He picks up his pace, jerking himself off in a succinct rhythm as his eyes devour your chest.

“Come here.” He groans. You scoot towards him in the bed.

“What do you want?” You ask, voice soft but demanding.

“I want your breasts in my mouth. Right now.” He says, not breaking stride as he continues to work at his rock hard cock.

You reposition yourself so that you’re slightly above him and you lean forward. He can’t help himself – before you’ve settled into a comfortable position, he’s captured one of your nipples in his mouth. He suckles on it, using his tongue and teeth to tease the delicate flesh. The pleasure that shoots through you is unquantifiable. You lean into his mouth and your eyes flutter shut as he uses his free hand to give attention to your other tit. The gratification is so good you hope he never stops.

But then you remember – you have a goddamn plan here. You should be watching and learning to see what Shoto likes. Your eyes fly open and you try to ignore the absolutely incredible things this Todoroki blessing is doing to your breasts.

“Shoto…” You try to get his attention. He looks up at you from down where he’s sucking on your tit and cocks and eyebrow questioningly.

“Mmm?”

“Shoto, this is fucking hot, but I’m trying to concentrate. Please – show me what you like and talk me through it.” You try to keep your voice as level as possible, even as he pinches a nipple and rubs the pad of his thumb over the delicate nub with his free hand. After a quick moment, comprehension dawns in his eyes and his mouth releases your boob with a wet “pop!”

“Sorry, I got carried away.” His face is red with embarrassment as you slide to sit next to him.

“Don’t be. I like it when you get carried away. You’re so goddamn hot Sho.” You plant a kiss on his cheek. “Now get back to it – and talk me through what you like.”

Shoto looks down at his cock and resumes stroking it. “So I hold my hand like this around it, see?” He demonstrates how he keeps a loose closed grip around his dick, sliding his hand along the base for a few deep strokes before concentrating around the head. “This part is the most sensitive, so when I want to finish I concentrate a lot here. But first I work myself up by starting down here.” He moves his hand down to the base of his dick to show you. “And I’ll tease myself a little as I work back up to the top.”

“Sometimes, I like to touch my…um…testicles a bit. It feels really nice to kind of…uh this is super awkward to explain…it feels good to move them around?”

“I think I understand.” You say, watching as he shows you how he likes to be played with. You let him work at himself until you see shiny beads of pre-cum form at the head of his cock.

“Okay, my turn to drive.” You say, reaching to shoo Shoto’s steady hand out of the way so that you can replace it with your own. “There we go.” You wrap your hand around his hard cock and start at the base the way he explained. You slowly roll your hand midway up his shaft before bringing it back down to the base. Shoto sighs at the motion, his hips flexing in a way that implies that he’s dying to thrust up into your hand.

You continue to tease him that way, coming closer and closer to the sensitive tip of his cock without truly touching it. You can tell by the expressions stretched across his face that he simultaneously loves and hates what you’re doing to him. You grin; enjoying the control you have as you edge him.

With your free hand, you reach down to fondle his balls, trying to mimic the motion he showed you. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you start to shift his package around, and you can tell from the way he bites back a moan that it must feel so, incredibly good to be touched this way.

Finally, you release his cock and bring your small hand to your mouth. You make a show of licking the palm of your hand before spitting cleanly into it. Shoto’s eyes widen in surprise at the crude gesture, but his cock twitches in anticipation.

You bring your spit-filled hand down to his dick and resume jerking him off – this time starting low at the base and continuing all the way up to the tip. Your saliva allows for your hand to slide and glide in a delicious way that it hadn’t previously. Shoto lets out a curse followed by your name at the feeling.

“Fuck, Y/N. Holy fucking fuck.” It’s the most you’ve ever heard him curse, and the lilt of his lust filled voice is absolutely sinful. You grin like a Cheshire cat as you stroke him the way he showed you, focusing on the sensitive head. His breathing is ragged, and he’s absolutely wrecked as you continue to run your lubed up hand along the very tip of his rigid member. “Shit. Y/N. I’m going to - ”

Shoto orgasms hard - thick waves of hot cum shooting up and flowing over your delicate hand as you continue to work at him. His legs jerk with the suddenness of his climax. His breath hitches in his throat and you fear that he’s stopped breathing as his hips roll up, thrusting his cock into your grip over and over and over. You use your hand to milk him for all that he’s worth, being sure to mimic the way that you had watched him grip his dick earlier in his demonstration. The expression on his face is priceless – his eyes are wide and filled with an expression of rapture, his mouth caught open in a small “o.”

Whatever you’re doing seems to be doing the trick, because it is quite a bit before he catches his breath and politely removes your hand from his spent, pulsing cock. He’s over stimulated and panting, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N, that was…” He’s still breathing heavy.

You reach across him to grab a conveniently placed washcloth off of your nightstand (you had a feeling that you’d be needing some cleanup supplies tonight). You wipe the sticky mess from your hand before giving him the cloth. He gratefully accepts, wiping the cum that’s pooled along the defined planes of his stomach and in the well of his bellybutton. “That was incredible. You take direction so well.” He says, his voice a bit fuzzy around the edges as he drops his head back to rest on your pillow.

You lay back with him, moving your clean hand to stroke his hair slowly. He leans into the touch, eyes heavy and half lidded as he comes down from his high.

“I’m a fast learner.” You say, enjoying the soft texture of his fluffy hair as you flutter your fingers through his dense locks. You lay there for a few minutes, playing with  Shoto’s hair and letting him bask in the afterglow. He’s completely naked and gorgeous in the glow of your fairy lights, his pale skin rippling with muscle.

“It’s almost curfew…you’d better get going in case Mr. Aizawa makes a bed check appearance.” You say with regret, wishing Shoto could stay with you through the night.

Shoto turns his head and groans into your shoulder. “But I want to stay here forever. It’s so comfortable here with your hands in my hair. And I’m so tired now.” He almost whines. You smile – a month ago you would have never thought Shoto Todoroki capable of whining. 

“I wish you could stay, too.” You coo, continuing to card your fingers through his mismatched locks.

“I like it here. Maybe I’ll move in. Stake claim on all of your plushes.” He reaches out and grabs his favorite plush from behind your head. He holds it close to your face and waves it up and down a few times, pretending to make it dance. “Squirtle, Squirtle.” He says in a strained, warbley voice. You giggle at his goofy attempt at mimicking the water Pokémon.

Afterglow Shoto sure is chatty. He looks so open and relaxed, his facial features at rest.

“Oh my God Shoto…did you finally look up Pokémon!?”

He hugs the plush to his bare chest and laughs. “I watched 12 episodes. I had to keep watching until Squirtle showed up. I would give my life for the Squirtle Squad.”

This cracks you up. You laugh even harder when you look up and see the way that Shoto is sprawled across your bed – completely naked except for the large Squirtle plush clutched to his chest. You point at him and make a little choked squeak. He realizes how ridiculous he looks and soon you’re both in hysterics, gasping for breath. It’s a wonder that no one has knocked on your door yet and asked you to quiet down.

After a few minutes you both calm down enough to catch your breath. You slide off the bed and scoop Shoto’s grey boxers off the ground and toss them in his direction. He drops Squirtle for a moment so he can shimmy into his underwear. Partially clothed once more, he flops on his back and pulls the covers up to his chin. He tucks Squirtle in beside him. You move to get back into the bed and join him, but he holds up a hand and puts on a serious expression. “Sorry – there’s no room for you. This bed is for card carrying members of the Squirtle Squad only.”

You smile and then paste a theatrical pout on your face. “You goof. How does one apply for Squirtle Squad membership?”

“Hmm.” Shoto brings his hand to his chin as if deep in thought. “You need to pay our membership dues. It’ll cost you a kiss.”

“That’s pretty expensive.”

“Squad Membership is well worth the fee, I promise.” He nods stoically, looking over at the Squirtle plush beside him. “Squirtle can confirm.” He gestures at the plush, which stares up at you blankly with its large embroidered eyes.  

“What does Squad Membership include?” You ponder aloud, pretending to think it over.

“If you join up now, I’ll act as your official heat and ice pack.” Shoto holds up both hands above his face as an offering. “And I’ll make you cum whenever you want.”

“Whenever I want?” You repeat. “Now that’s an intriguing offer. I think I’ll take it.” You lean down and cup his soft cheek in your hand, bringing his mouth to yours. Your lips melt into his and you kiss him soundly. He moans into your mouth, moving his lips softly against your own.

It’s wonderful to be with him like this – so open and having fun like regular teenagers. There’s no pressure to put on a brave face and to be strong heroes in training. In these stolen moments, its okay to just be. You break the kiss and pull yourself up into he bed and under the comforter. Within seconds, you’re wrapped up in Shoto’s arms and he pulls you against his bare chest.

“Welcome to the Squad. Your membership is approved.” He places a kiss on your forehead and you snuggle into him. You take a deep breath, letting your tired body relax against Shoto’s solid warmth. 

You lay in silence for a bit, just enjoying each others company. Shoto’s breathing is slow and even. You can tell he’s feeling comfortable and relaxed after his orgasm. He nuzzles his face into your shoulder and huffs into the curve of your neck. After a bit, Shoto gets too warm and uncouples himself from you so he can pull down the comforter a bit.

“You know, I was thinking…” Shoto rolls over onto his back and crosses his arms behind his head. He’s partially naked and gorgeous in the glow of your fairy lights, his pale skin rippling with muscle. He looks up at the ceiling. “Summer training camp is coming up. I heard that this year we are going for 2 weeks. They plan to put us through a week and a half of training, and then we’ll get a few days just to have fun and enjoy being outside. There will be hiking, and campfires…maybe the two of us can sneak off and just have some time together? No curfews, no whispering. No hiding away.” He turns his head to look at you.

“That sounds really, really nice.” You say, reaching over to give him a big boop on his nose. He smiles at the contact. You love seeing him like this – usually he is so closed off and stoic. Every smile you can get out of him is a prize in itself. “I doubt we’ll truly be able to sneak off given how large and damn nosy our class is…but we can definitely try.”

Shoto closes his eyes, a blissful expression etched across his features. “I just picture the two of us on a moonlit hike, just able to enjoy the scenery together. We can listen to the cicadas and the crickets in the quiet of the dark. It’s such a calming thought in my mind. I’d like to share that moment of peace with you.”

“Orgasms make you talk nonsense.” You joke, trying to ignore the way that your heart is squeezing at his words.

He opens his eyes and scans your face. “You’d like that, though?”

“Of course I would, Shoto. It would be nice to get out of the city and to see some greenery. To be together outside of our dorm rooms. I wish that we didn’t need to sneak around so much…I wish that we were older and that we could just do whatever we want without consequence.” You say wistfully, reaching to grab your phone and check the time. “Crap, it’s nearly 10.”

Shoto pulls you into another embrace, shifting his hands around you so he can cradle your breasts. He plays with your nipples a bit, swirling his fingertips around them delicately. You gasp at the contact, your pussy instantly responding to the touch.  “I can’t go yet – I haven’t made you cum.” Shoto whispers thickly into your ear, pinching a nipple with each hand. You make a strangled sort of noise, sliding a hand down between your legs to give your clit a brief pulse to sate the hungry way its pulsing beneath the smooth fabric of your panties.

“Shoto…if you stay any longer and Aizawa comes around, we’re gonna get caught.” You say in a pained voice as he continues to play with your tits. You can’t let this go any further or you both are done for. “Shoto, you’ve gotta go.”

“But it’s not fair if I don’t make you - ” You move to regretfully remove his wandering hands from your boobs.

“I can take care of it myself this time.” You say, in a sultry tone. “And I’ll think of you the whole time.” You turn to look over your shoulder to see Shoto’s face has gone beat red at the implication that you’ll be spending the rest of the evening masturbating to thoughts of him.

He lets out a shaky breath, still clearly uncomfortable with the thought of leaving you hanging. “Alright, Y/N. But next time, the focus is all on you to make up for it. Okay?”

“I think I can live with that.” You smile, and reach behind you to give him a light shove to leave.

Shoto grins softly as he untangles himself from you, climbing over your body to get out of the bed. His feet hit the ground and he stretches languidly before reaching for his abandoned clothes. He pulls his shirt and pants on unceremoniously as you watch, laughing at the way his soft sweatpants stretch back into place over the smooth curve of his ass.

“You’re too cute.” You say, reaching to pull him back to the bed so you can give him one more quick kiss. He smiles into the smooch, wrapping his arms around you in a warm, steady embrace.

“I’ll text you?” He says softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I’ll make sure I take my phone back with me this time.” This earns a laugh.

“Please do.”

“Well, goodnight then.” He kisses your cheek and then makes his way to the door; he peaks out into the hallway before making his usual fast exit. You pray he doesn’t get caught by Aizawa again – he would probably demand an explanation from Shoto.

You lay in your bed, relaxed, staring up at your ceiling. Life sure has been complicated lately – between school, training, an unexpected romance, and the illicit party planning, you sure are having an adventure.

You allow yourself to replay a scene from earlier in your mind: “Fuck, Y/N. Holy fucking fuck.” Shoto curses as you stroke his cock mercilessly, bringing him to the brink of climax. “Shit. Y/N. I’m going to…”

You feel arousal twinge between your legs once again and you bring your fingers down to touch yourself over your panties. You wish Shoto was still here to help – all you can think of is the loving way that he sometimes uses his wet tongue to play with your nipples. You roll over onto your stomach so you can increase the pressure of your fingers against your clit. Mmm. You replay the image of Shoto’s pretty “O” face over and over again as you bring yourself to the brink of climax.

Before long, new thoughts are blooming into your brain. You imagine what it would be like to have Shoto’s fingers on you instead. What would it be like to feel that pretty cock slide inside of you - to be physically filled to the brim with Shoto Todoroki? You’ve never really fantasized about actual act of intercourse before, and you wonder how it would feel to be that connected with Shoto. You picture his voice pitching and sighing as he slides in and out of you, his strong hands bracing on your hips. The thought of Shoto’s thick cock sliding against your wet pussy causes your breath to stick in your throat. Your heart pulses impossibly fast as you use your fingertips to push yourself over the edge, gasping into your pillow. Oh fuck that’s good.

Shoto Todoroki and his hot body are truly going to be the death of you. You can picture your epitaph in your head – “Here lies Y/N. She was brought to the gates at heaven by Shoto Todoroki’s hard cock. May she rest in peace, having known what true ecstasy feels like.”

You smile at that unhinged thought. Your phone buzzes next to you and you flip around the screen to see a text from Shoto.

Shoto: I made it back to my dorm room. Did not get caught this time.

Shoto: Typing.

Shoto: Did you…take care of things?

Y/N: Haha yeah. I just finished. Was thinking about you the whole time.

Shoto replies with a single word.

Shoto: Fuck.

Shoto: Next time, I’ll take care of you myself. I promise.

Y/N: You've already taken care of me so much today, but I’ll hold you to that. ☺️ Goodnight, Shoto.

Shoto: Goodnight Y/N.

You put your phone back on your bedside table and snuggle up in your bed, pulling the Squirtle plush close to you and wishing that it were Shoto Todoroki.

End of Chapter.

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Previous Chapter: Part 4 | Next Chapter: Part 6

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Author's Note:

HOLY GUACAMOLE!! This chapter ended up being 30 pages - I know in my last chapter post I said that Chapter 5 would focus on The Party - but y'all all of your reactions to the Chapter 4 cliff hanger made me want to create a more satisfying plot line surrounding the YaMomo text. In short - the comments you leave influence the story a lot more than you'd think! So I hope you enjoyed this chapter and Shoto's sweet way of taking care of the Reader. I try to make The Reader a pretty general character so that it's easy to self-insert, but she's kind of developing her own personality which is fun too!

Part 6 is already in the works and partially written. I have most of THE PARTY scenes drafted and typed out, and I'm really excited for you all to see what I've been cooking up for this story arc. I also want to lay the ground work for future arcs as well - I don't anticipate this tale ending any time soon! It seems to take me a month/month and a half to churn out each chapter, so please feel free to check out my other work on My Master List as you wait!

I have been so locked in on this Todoroki story that I've been neglecting one shots lately. I hope to finish a little Kirishima focused fic soon, plus I have an idea for a tale surrounding All Might (the working title is gonna be something like "United States of Smash that Ass" idk its gonna be goofy and All Might is gonna have a huge cock or something stupid like that). TLDR: Keep an eye on my blog for more fun content surrounding our other favorite heroes as you wait for Chapter 6!

As always, thank you thank you thank you for all of your positive comments, messages and reblogs of my work. This passion project has brought me so much joy and I love how much joy it seems to bring all of you. Thanks for joining me on this wild ride, excited to see all that happens next!

XoXo, Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

❄️🔥THE ICYTHOTS🔥❄️

Want to join or be removed from the tag list - let me know! Once again, this is an ADULT ONLY blog. The IcyThot club is exclusively dedicated to the Shoto's First Kiss series and will only include A18+. Do not request to be added unless you are over 18. I'm also adding the "sexual content" label/tags.

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[arlana-likes-to-write]

First Christmas

Summary: Your new relationship with the Black Widow has you questioning if you should decorate for Christmas because of the red head's complicated past with the holiday.

Warnings: angst with fluff, mention of past trauma

Word Count: 2.4

As they said, you felt a little stuck between a rock and a hard place. Christmas was important to you. It was filled with fond memories of you and your cousins playing in the snow, opening presents early in the morning, and singing Christmas songs around a fire. Christmas meant family. It meant bright lights, white snow, and the smell of cookies. Christmas was your favorite holiday.

Now, you would be spending your holidays with someone else with a more complicated outlook on the holidays. Your relationship with the Black Widow was only a couple of months old. But you’ve known the Avenger for longer as your path crossed the team of heroes daily since you were Helen’s assistant.

At first, the redhead stayed far away from you and the medical team. It seemed common that she wouldn’t be part of the group to get her injuries checked out after a mission. You accepted that was how it was going to be. Until a solo mission left Natasha more injured than she could handle alone, you found her in the kitchen, barely able to stand due to blood loss. You brought her to her room instead of bringing her to the medical unit. You restitched her wounds, cleaned them, and were about to leave, but Natasha asked you to say. A friendship formed under vulnerability, and then a relationship bloomed.

So you sat in your apartment debating whether to decorate for Christmas. Thanksgiving was two days that you spent with your family. Unfortunately, Natasha was on a mission and was due back tomorrow. Some part of you wondered if she took that mission to avoid the holiday. After a rough mission, Natasha told you about her life in Ohio while you cleaned the superficial cuts she got. That mission was created by the Red Room to act like an American family. They filled out a photo album on one day of Christmas, Easter, and summer break to play the part. She told you that she would stare at the empty boxes under the tree and want to rip them open.

Was it a good idea to decorate for Christmas? Would it hurt her? Would it cause a fight, and you would never see her again? Sighing, you stood up from the couch. Fuck it. It was time to decorate for Christmas.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Her whole body hurt as she climbed the stairs to your apartment, but knowing you were on the other side made it worth it. If you had told the Black Widow that when she defected to SHIELD, she would have someone to welcome her back after a mission, she would have laughed in your face. But you managed to worm your way into her heart. You broke down her walls. It made life less lonely.

Natasha used her key to open the door. It was warm compared to the weather outside. She hated the winter. Tugging off her boots and jacket, a sigh escaped her lips. She heard the sound of the shower and walked into your living room. The record player Helen gifted you was playing, and the Black Widow came face to face with the newest addition to your apartment.

A Christmas tree. The lights were bright and warm. The branches were decorated with red, green, and silver circular ornaments. There were some glass ornaments mixed within that Natasha was afraid to touch. When she took a deep breath in, the smell of pine filled your lungs. “You’re home,” your voice pulled her out of your thoughts and turned around to see you. Your hair was damp from the shower, and you were wearing a sweater that went to the middle of your thighs. “How was the mission?” You asked and closed the distance between you and her. Natasha saw your eyes scan over her possible injuries.

“I’m fine detka,” Natasha whispered. “Just the normal bumps and bruises.” It was a simple recon mission. “What is this?” She pointed to the tree over her shoulder but kept her eyes on you.

You glanced at the tree, then back to the Black Widow, and then to the tree. “It’s a Christmas tree,” you said. The redhead rolled her eyes and turned to face the tree. Tentatively, she felt you press your front to her back, and your arms went around her waist, your chin resting on her shoulder when she didn’t pull away from you. She hated how much she felt at ease in your arms. “It’s tradition,” you continued. “In my family to decorate for Christmas after Thanksgiving.” You spoke slowly. “I debated back and forth if I should put it up. I can take it down if it’s too much.”

“It’s your apartment,” Natasha said. “Do whatever you want.” It was easier for Natasha to deflect than acknowledge how you cared about her emotions.

“It’s your home, too,” you kissed the side of her head. “So I can take it down. No harm. No foul.”

“It’s,” Beautiful. Overwhelming. Terrifying. All these words bounced around in her head, but they weren’t enough to describe all these feelings. “It’s real.” She finally spoke. She hoped you understood the meaning behind her words. This was real. Your relationship with her was real. Not fabricated by the Red Room. If she chooses, she could celebrate Christmas with you.

“Come on,” you squeezed her waist, then dropped your arms. Natasha pouted at the loss of contact. “You are home early. Dinner isn’t ready yet.”

You were incredible. Your heart was so good. Natasha worried she didn’t deserve it.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Natasha was in trouble. You had been a thought in her mind that wouldn’t leave since the Christmas tree incident two weeks ago. Now, Christmas was next week, and Natasha was stuck on what to do. A mission request was in her hand, which would take her away for the holiday. The deputy director gave her the mission without a second thought because Maria knew Natasha wanted to be busy during the holidays. However, Natasha hesitated.

She had someone to spend the holidays with, and Christmas was so important to you. “You are thinking too hard,” Wanda appeared next to her and opened the fridge to take a protein shake out. I can see the smoke coming out of your ears,” she teased. Natasha huffed.

“I am just thinking about-”

“Christmas. That mission. Your girl,” Wand leaned against the counter across from Natasha. “Like I said you are thinking to hard.” The Black Widow rolled her eyes and stood from the chair with the file in her hand. “Wait, Nat. I just want to help.” Natasha stopped at Wanda’s voice but didn’t turn around.

“I don’t think I can be who she wants me to be,” Natasha admitted. Wanda sighed and walked over to her.

“She just wants you, Nat,” Wanda spoke softly. “She doesn’t want you to change.” The redhead walked over to the couch and slumped down. Her arm went up to cover her eyes, but she knew Wanda followed her and sat down. “Tell me what’s going on, Nat.”

“Why don’t you help yourself and look? You’ve done it before without asking.” The Black Widow snapped. She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. “Sorry,” she winched and removed her arm. “That was uncalled for.”

“It was,” Wanda deadpanned. “But as your friend, I’m still going to help.” Natasha hesitated. Yes, they worked through what happened when the young girl worked with Ultron, but Natasha was still guarded. There was no one else she could talk to about this, and you and Wanda were friends.

“I think I want to spend Christmas with her, but I don’t know how,” Natasha leaned forward and folded her hands. I have never celebrated Christmas before. I never had a reason. I never had anything real like this.” She felt her emotions get the better of her, but she swallowed it down. She remembered having to lie to her classmates about what she got for Christmas. She deserves a perfect Christmas, and I can’t give that to her.”

“Nat,” Wanda sighed again. “She doesn’t want perfect. She just wants you in any capacity. If you aren’t ready for that, then she will understand. Honestly, she would want to cuddle and watch movies with you.”

“And what do I get her?” Natasha questioned.

“I have some ideas,” the Black Widow looked at Wanda, who had a smile on her face. “What are you going to do about that?” She asked and pointed to the mission request. This was her out, her safe guard but deep down Natasha wanted a life outside of constant missions.

“I think Hill can find someone else to take my spot.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

“You know,” you smiled at your girlfriend’s voice but remained in your current position. “Your back will kill you for how long you’ve been standing there.”

“That’s why I have a wonderful girlfriend who will give me a massage if I ask,” you said, hearing her scuff and closing the distance between you and her. Her warm hands went to the middle of your back and shoulder. She forced you to stand up straight away from the microscope. You moaned in relief, not realizing how sore you were. Her hands dug into the knots in your back.

“Maria gave me a mission,” you nodded and tried to hide your disappointment. Christmas was next week, and you wanted to spend it with her, but you knew better not to push.

“When are you leaving?” You asked as you closed your eyes and lost yourself in the feeling of Natasha’s hands.

“I declined the mission.” Your eyes shot open at her confession. Your brain scrambled over her last check-up. She wasn’t injured, even though you gave her an earful about not wrapping her hands properly before she boxed. Why would she refuse to go? All the time you’ve known the Black Widow, not even an injury would keep her benched. Slowly, you turned around in your girlfriend’s arms.

“Why did you decline the mission?” You asked. Natasha let out a shaky breath, but her green eyes looked at everything beside you.

“Because,” she finally spoke. Finally, her green eyes landed on you. “I want to spend Christmas with you.” It was impossible to stop the surprise noise that escaped from the back of your throat. Embarrassment washed over you, but Natasha ignored it. “Is that okay?” She asked instead.

“Yeah,” you whispered. That is amazing—incredible—everything you’ve wanted. But those declarations would scare her away. “That is okay.” Natasha managed a small smile, kissed you softly, and pulled you into a hug. You felt her heart beating rapidly against her ribs, and you knew your heartbeat matched.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You were excited. This moment was everything you wanted, but as the clock counted down to Natasha’s arrival, you started to spiral. Talking with Wanda on the phone helped, but your anxiety was going to make you sick. You decided that a glass of wine was needed to help calm your nerves. There will be no cooking tonight, as you ordered Natasha’s favorite takeout. That was in the oven, staying warm. If Natasha was okay with that, you had everything in the fridge for a Christmas dinner. Everything was about making Natasha comfortable.

As you brought the wine glass to your lips, there was a knock on your door. You quickly ran to the door and looked through the peephole to see your girlfriend. She was shifting awkwardly with a Christmas sweater on and a few gift bags in her hand. “Hi,” you opened the door. “I like the sweater.” Natasha rolled her eyes and stepped into the apartment. You took the bags from her so she could take off her boots.

“A gift from Wanda” was a military green sweater with four black cats embroidered and various Christmas items they were playing with. You hummed.

“So I bet I can expect a matching one in my present,” you giggled and looked at the four bags in your hands. “Speaking of presents, who may I ask are these for?” You teased lightly.

“There are for my other girlfriend,” she deadpanned before snatching the bags out of your hands and headed for the Christmas tree.

You made your way back to the wine and waited. One second passed, followed by another. You watched Natasha stand up tall with a perfectly wrapped present in her hand. Your mother had you wrapping presents before you could talk. “Are these,” she paused. “For me?” You decided to tease her, closing the distance with your wine in your hand.

“No,” you smiled. “These are for my other girlfriend.” You used her words against her, but you saw the switch in her eyes from teasing to vulnerability. You put your glass down and covered her hands with yours. “Yes, these are for you. You can open them now or tomorrow, or you can throw them into the fire because it’s too much,” you managed to make her smile. “But these are real. This is real, just like how we will celebrate this very real holiday and how my-,” your eyes went wide from your almost confession. Natasha gave you a questionable look and gave you space to gather your thoughts. You sighed. “How my love for you is real.”

Natasha dropped the present, and it fell to the ground with a thud. A part of you cringed, but you knew it wasn’t fragile. It was worth it when Natasha pulled you closer, connecting your lips with yours. It took you by surprise, but you melted against her and matched the intensity of the kiss. She pulled away, keeping her lips close to breathe in the same air as you. “I-” the Black Widow closed her eyes. “I-” she couldn’t say it.

The Red Room taught her that love was a weakness, an emotion reserved for children. She couldn’t say a simple three-word sentence, but you knew her true feelings. Like everything with Natasha, she used her actions instead of her words. She said, ‘I love you,’ when she made sure you had lunch on a busy day, took care of her injuries, or massaged the knots in your shoulders. At night, her lips traveled across your skin. She let you in.

“I know, baby,” you whispered and kissed her again. Her hands moved underneath your Christmas sweater and traced the skin of your back. It was all too much and not enough. Natasha consumed all of your senses.

“Merry Christmas, dorogoy.”

“Merry Christmas.”