#sharing my current header because it’s too beautiful not to share the whole thing

[teafrtwo]

[gallickingun]

stardust in our bones {constellations on our skin} || i.m.

SUMMARY: Izuku Midoriya is a mausoleum of pain, his masterpieces hung in the form of scars and freckled skin. Sometimes he is overwhelmed by the very public display of his failures, unable to be dismissed even from far away. But you are always there to remind him that even if he is a little damaged, he will always be beautiful in your eyes. And maybe he can come to learn that his scars are but reminders that even if you break, you are not broken. 

This is essentially a few different scenes/scenarios all rolled into one fic about Izuku’s freckles and scars. I hope you love it!

PAIRING: Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader RATINGS: M/E+ WARNINGS: mentions of blood, language, smut, dom/sub scenes, scars, mild violence mention, breeding kink, daddy kink, etc. WORD COUNT: 28.4k+

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* TAG LIST *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ is in the replies of this post! message me to be added/removed!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is the labor of love that i have produced for my other half @freckledoriya ♡ i hope that this meets your expectations, as it is probably one of the only midoriya fics i will ever write lol. katsuki baby i am so sorry also big shoutout to @k-atsukidayo for making this beautiful header image for me and always reminding me that i’m not as garbage as i think i am ♡

if you like this, feel free to request more HERE!

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Some call him disfigured or discolored.

They focus much too heavily on the outer turmoil taking its toll on his skin instead of the implications of what is happening within his body – the struggle in seeing himself this way and coming to terms with all that he has lost, marked on his body forever in the form of scars.

Marred flesh, crooked knuckles, gnarled bones.

He relives his trauma every time he looks in a mirror, another cut turned to pinkened scar, another use of his quirk marking his body permanently with a plethora of the color red. He wonders for a moment if he will ever feel whole again, or if he will always see himself as this patchwork thing that the universe toys with by ripping apart just to sew it back together again.

Izuku Midoriya is a mausoleum of pain.

And yet, despite all his physical fallacies, you still find him beautiful.

You watched on in horror as his body took on the tolls of being a hero throughout his time at Yuuei. You were but a young, quirkless teenager, begging for a hero who reminded you of what hope used to taste like. Now, after All Might’s demise, your tongue turns sour and anything that might have resembled hope burns to ash in your mouth.

Then Izuku Midoriya became a Pro Hero at the very agency you’ve been working at and you felt that familiar warmth of hope starting to take root in your chest, driving out that darkness that settled once the world lost All Might.

Deku is kind, much kinder than the average man. Or hero, for that matter.

He stops by your desk at least once a week, with either coffee or something sweet, in addition to his paperwork. He’ll chat with you, leaning over your counter with those sparkling emerald eyes, and you start to realize you can get lost in him. He is a gentle reprieve from your otherwise mundane day.

And in the beginning, you saw sun-kissed skin littered with a dark sprinkling of freckles, like little constellations burned into him by the sun. His cheeks are like the expanse of the night sky and you wonder to yourself when he leans in close if you might could find some stars you recognize.

As you grow closer, minutes turned into hours turned into lunch outings, you realize that you truly misjudged how deep his scars run.

They are not just on the surface, but rather cutting deep into his soul until he is marked at the very essence, clouded eyes ever present when he recounts a tale that brought forth yet another scar. You want to reach out and brush his cheeks, but you must restrain yourself because he is a Pro Hero and you are but an office manager, quirkless and insignificant to him.

You busy yourself with memorizing the patterns on his face and neck. You allow your mind to wander from time to time, trailing your gaze down to his exposed collarbones or torso, depending on how rough a mission might leave his suit. When it’s torn at the thighs, you can’t help but to see the smattering of pale freckles against his otherwise tanned skin.

Izuku is kind, you remind yourself as he approaches you with paperwork tucked into his side. There is no other explanation for his long, drawn out talks at your desk, or the flowers currently adorning your countertop.

“Hey, sorry,” he unfurls the bundled package of papers and lays them flat on your desk, “this week has been insane, lots’a villains on the loose. Which I guess just means more paperwork for everyone, huh?”

You chuckle at him, thumbing through the first few sheets to make sure he’s got it all in order. There really is no doubt in your mind that it’s all laid out exactly how it should, that’s just how Deku is, but you want him stationary at your desk for a little while longer, so you check it anyway.

“And more bruises for you heroes,” you smile, tilting your head upward so you can catch the glint in his eyes. “How are you today?”

Midoriya begins to rattle off a long string of muttered words while you check the paperwork. You don’t mind that you can’t necessarily understand everything he’s saying, just to hear the sound of his voice is enough to satiate you for the rest of the day. You smile and nod when you think you should, the smell of the flowers on your desk more intoxicating now that he’s here.

“-I, well, you see, I guess that since I saved their shop, they said I could have unlimited meals, and I, uh, I was wondering if you’d like to go?”

You bite your lip, reigning yourself in because of course he just wants to go out for lunch. There’s nothing more to it. You have been to lunch with him several times, extended breaks thanks to both his hero status and your extra hours you work here and there.

“Sure,” you answer, “we can go over the new manual, I have a few-”

“No.”

You cock your head, brow furrowing, “B-But -I”

Deku shakes his head, green curls bobbing against his forehead, his undercut even more obvious now, “N-No, I mean, I want to go, but like, I want you to go with me.”

“I would be-”

“Without the paperwork.”

“Oh.”

The two of you share a look for longer than necessary and now the flowers’ perfume grows stronger, almost sickeningly sweet as your stomach flips. You rack your brain for the words to say, but each syllable dies on your tongue, sparking against a taste bud. You want to pinch yourself to ground your mind into this version of reality where Deku wants to go on a date with you is the current situation, but you can’t move, frozen in place by his expectant stare.

It must take you too long to respond because Izuku launches into another muttering rant, apologizing profusely as he blushes from head to toe. Your lips tug into a smile at the sight of his freckles against his reddened skin, and that little break from your psychotic prison allows you to reach forward and grasp him by the hand.

Deku’s jaw snaps shut, eyes widened as he looks down at you, gaze piercing through you as if he had slung a spear through your soul. He’s got a hold on you, he has since the day you first met, but now you know that he’s had you hook, line, and sinker and there was no way you could ever come up for air.

Not that you’d want to.

“I’d love to,” you tell him, voice soft.

His smile matches your own and he squeezes your fingers, the scars on his hands rigid against his otherwise smooth skin, “It’s a date.”

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As time passed, the bruised ribs and shattered bones multiple. The Pro Hero, Deku, is well-known for his gnarled hand, knuckles swollen, and scars carved into his body like veins in a slab of marble. He finds you after each mission, wrapped in gauze and taped back together, and you are the one left to mend the untouchable pieces of him once the surgeons have done all that they can for the surface wounds.

“You should be more careful,” you warn him, hands reaching for his face to palm over his cheeks in worry.

Midoriya laughs, but it is cut short by a wince as he grabs for his rib cage. You lurch forward to steady his frame, but it is of no use, his palm already outstretched to keep you at bay. The frown on your face only deepens at his motions, your brow furrowing together to wrinkle the skin of your forehead.

“I’m fine,” he reassures you once he can stand up right to his full height again, “thank you, for coming and picking me up.”

The pads of your hands find his face again, thumbs pressed into his cheeks, fingerprints grazing over the speckled skin. It’s as if you’re counting them to make sure that none of them have been wiped away from the last time you saw him; like you could keep track of them like inventory if you tried hard enough. The furrow in your brow tells him that he hasn’t done a good enough job at reassuring you, so he steps closer, a knee between your thighs, “I promise I’m okay. They patched me up! All better now.”

All better now.

The words seem shallow, like they can’t possibly touch all of the broken pieces between the two of you. Every time he bares his soul on the battlefield, he comes away changed, a different person than you last saw. He won’t show the world, but at least he will show you.

“Yeah?” Your voice is cutting, patience wearing thin, jaw quivering under the sheer force of the bite of your teeth, “And what about the next time, when they can’t fix you?”

Deku does not have an answer for you then, the question weighing between the two of you like the world caught between your shoulders. At least the answer he can think up is not one that he wants you to hear, let alone one you might take in stride.

Instead of trying to babble on about the efficiencies of agency surgeons and statistics and whatnot, he takes you by the wrists, circling his fingers around your pounding pulse. A gentle laugh bubbles in his chest and it makes you forget about the pain he has to be in for but a mere moment as he looks you in the eyes.

“I’m a hero,” Izuku answers, voice grating against his throat as his eyes bore into you like he’s telling you some enormous secret you must keep to yourself, “and the hero always wins. No matter what.”

As much as your bleeding, apologetic heart wants to believe him, to lap up every word that he’s spewing to you like syrup, your mind can’t quite agree. You’ve spent too many late nights lying awake, wondering when you’ll get the call that he has fallen prey to a villain’s decaying touch, or when he will have been captured and tortured to the brink of insanity, a shell of the man he used to be all that’s left when they find him. Every horror story has played out on the back of your eyelids when you fall asleep, and yet you know there will never be anything you can do to put him back in the little box you first found him in, to protect him and keep him safe.

You push all of those thoughts away, knowing that they will only dampen your spirit for now, and you’d much rather focus on his darling freckled face while you take your afternoon walk. He insists, despite his injuries, that he won’t miss an afternoon walk with you. And it appears that he’s healing even as more time passes, the lingering effects of Recovery Girl’s quirk in combination with quirk-laced drugs mending his body after he’s left the operating room.

Taking in the sight before you – this beautiful, Adonis-like man, with golden cheeks and an innocent sheen in his glittering green irises – you’re overwhelmed with the desire to kiss him, so you charge forward and do just that. Your hands find his neck, searching for the hairline lightning strike scars that litter his body from past injuries and fights.

Unbeknownst to him, you keep your eyes open so you can watch as his translucent lids flutter, orbs moving beneath the skin as he’s unsure of what part of you in his imagination to settle on. This way you’re able to see as the apples of his cheeks slowly start to burn deeper shades of red to match his ears and neck.

As you pull away, falling back onto your heels, you drink him in as the light glimmers down on his skin, making him look almost golden in the afternoon sunshine. There is a string connected to your heart that tugs whenever you see the man standing before you, and now is no exception.

“C’mon,” you slot your knuckles between his, tenderly brushing your thumb over the large expanse of scar tissue on the back of his palm, “let’s go.”

Izuku pulls you closer and it’s like another piece of him has fallen into place, your body slotting just right against his side, like you were made for each other. One to match the other, a balance to end all imbalances.

A complete set.

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The knock on your door makes you jump, shuddering beneath your fleece blanket.

You rub your eyes and stand to your feet, leaving the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. It’s late, so you imagine it’s most likely just a package delivery.

You’re beyond surprised to see a bleeding Izuku Midoriya slumped forward, using his forearm to hold himself steady in your doorway. You gasp, your blanket dropping away from your shoulders to pool at your feet, launching yourself forward to catch him before he can topple to the ground.

“Izuku,” you gasp, tucking yourself beneath him so he can use you for support.

He laughs, but it turns into a wheezing string of coughs. You help him hobble through the threshold towards the kitchen, sitting him down close to the sink so you can clean him up. Tilting his head back, you look into his eyes and pray that they dilate. When his pupils shrink, you let loose a breath held captive in your lungs.

It’s hard not to think about the reality that this will add another scar to his tally. His whole body seems like a counter, really, with strikes and slashes marring his skin, turning it pink and keeping track of every battle.

Midoriya reaches up to cradle your face in his palm, fingertips brushing over the smooth skin of your cheeks, directly contrasted with his own rough complexion, “I needed to see you.”

“No,” you shake your head and squat down in front of him, tears stinging the backs of your eyes as you try to take in every part of him that’s bleeding, “you need to see a doctor!”

Before you can protest him any further, Izuku leans forward to crush your mouth beneath his own. He whimpers in pain as he kisses you, but it doesn’t stop him. In fact, it almost stirs him forward, spurring him to cup your face with his hands as tears track down to cut through the crimson lines on his cheeks.

Izuku Midoriya is nothing short of an enigma. Here he is, bruised and bleeding, but he wrought his way to find you despite all of the pain. You wish you could burden some of it on his behalf, taking up the mantle of his own personal Atlas, meant to shoulder the weight of his existence so he can catch a quick breath.

His forehead touches yours as he pulls away, a sobbing gasp parting his mouth, “I’ll be fine. I just need you.”

You brush his hair away from his eyes, forcing him to look at you with the tender turn of your wrist. His right eye is bruised and swelling itself shut, blood caked from his brow to his jaw, pouring steadily from the wound he’s got split open on his head.

The only thought running through your mind, creating a path of worn ground against your cerebrum, is that this will be but another one to add to the collection; another piece of art to hang in his mausoleum. Judging by the amount of blood caked in his hair and brow, and the depth of the wound, it will surely leave a tattered scar of flesh behind.

An errant thought crosses your mind then – will he have such painful memories of this specific wound? Or will he recall this one to be the scar that brought him back to you?

You can’t help it when your lower lip trembles. You can never be surprised at the story of this scar’s origin – it will be engrained in your mind forever. Despite your adoration for the hero, you share in his pain, your own body wincing as a new trickle of crimson stains his temple. You tense your jaw, the muscles in your neck quivering under the strain of your ministrations. Even if he remembers this night fondly, you know that every time you glance at the healed section of his body, you’ll remember his tears, his debilitating pain.

“I’m calling Toshinori,” you grit your teeth, steeling your will, “you shouldn’t be here.”

“I let him know I was coming.” Izuku inhales in short bursts; it’s all his chest can handle before splintering pain streaks through his lungs like lightning. He winces as he shifts, one hand drifting to your hip. He dips his thumb beneath the fabric of your top, a shirt he recognizes as his own based on the size of it as it fully engulfs your figure. His logo is on the center, bright green text in stark contrast to the dark grey fabric.

A wave of pride swells within him, starting at the base of his back and building upward like effervescent champagne bubbles floating to the surface. He opens his mouth to set them free in the form of smothering kisses, his lips traveling to every available expanse of your skin he can find.

Deku is a force of nature, a whirlwind you cannot reckon with, so instead you succumb to him.

You allow him to swallow you whole for the first time, diving deeper into the eye of his storm until he is swirling around you and suffocating you. But you do not care. If this is how you have to go, with his tongue holding you hostage, hands like anchors on your hips, dragging you deeper until all you know is the darkness, then you are fine with that.

You’d gladly drown as long as he was the one holding you down.

But Izuku Midoriya is not the dark. He is anything but.

So, instead of burning your breath with his own oxygen, he fills you to the brim with light. He is a sunbeam incarnate, pushing through every crack in your bones to cement them with his kindness. His fingers, while biting into your hips, send a singing sensation up into your skin until you can’t help but smile into his kiss. They are rough with tattered flesh, scars of the past and present plaguing his body like a parasite, eating away at his skin until no longer has anything left to give.

Deku doesn’t wince when you sink down on top of him, settling your body against his thighs. Instead he wraps his arms around you to give you some kind of solace, palms searching your shoulders for the perfect place to rest. His fingers are warm beneath your shirt as his fingers seek out the curve of your spine.

The pure thickness of his body is not lost on you, not now. ­Your hands travel over his shoulders, his muscles rippling beneath the pads of your fingers. You shiver when he holds you closer, your chest flush with his, the tactile pleasure from his rough skin making your toes curl.

His shoulders are riddled with tiny, slicing scars, a light pink color in contrast to his standard tanned skin. You look for scar after scar, appreciating the damaged parts of him just as much as the smooth ones. You moan when both of his hands squeeze your waist, the pure size of him a gentle reminder as his palms engulf your ribs, his knuckles counting the bones as he runs his hands up and down.

“I thought I lost you,” he murmurs as he disconnects his mouth from yours, tears settled in his irises, making them glassy, “the villain I-I fought, th-they had a canceling quirk, and they almost got me.”

You know that got me is the safer, calmer equivalent of killed me. His kindness oozes like honey into every facet of him, filling the cracks like veins of marble. Your heart squeezes within your chest at the reality that he could have been lost to you, and suddenly the wounds on his body matter a little less.

No, now it is all about having him here, dense and hot beneath your body. Your fingertips tremble at the thought of him being a ghost of the past, something you once had a hold of, but now is nothing but a memory. You feel hot tears drip over your lashes, clumping up at the base of your eyelids as they flow freely. You sniffle, your hands finding the back of his head to cradle tenderly.

Izuku’s voice is soft, his cheeks gleaming red as he admits his next words, “You were all I could think about.”

Your voice breaks with a sob and you hold him tight around the neck, surging forward to kiss him soundly on the mouth. Izuku wraps his arms around your whole body, holding you snugly as he tilts his head for a better angle. You relish in the warmth he provides, his solid presence giving you comfort as you try to drink him in, pushing aside all the thoughts of potentially never having him like this again.

It’s not even about the way your stomach turns as his tongue licks at the seam of your lips, or how hot your body grows as he engulfs you like a flame. No, it is something beautiful and pristine, something that curls around your spine and bolsters it, holding you upright with confidence. Izuku has given you something you haven’t had in so long that you almost can’t put a name to it.

Peace.

There is an undeniable calm that washes over you whenever he is around, whether it be by distance or severe closeness. He suffocates you in his light no matter how far away he is; purely by knowing that he is alive, your heart quiets in your chest. You feel safer as you walk down the streets, the very notion that he will always be there, watching from wherever he may be, builds your bones stronger so you can walk with confidence.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” you gasp, coming up for air. You don’t go far, your nose nudging over his cheek as you pant quickly, your chest heaving. “I-I can’t do this without you.”

“Hey,” Deku’s voice is calm, his palms reaching up the back of your shoulders to cover you entirely in his heat. All you want is to coat yourself in him from top to bottom, let him claim you however he needs to, so you never have to let this go. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You open your eyes as he nudges his nose over the bow of your lips, kissing your chin tenderly. Your pupils dilate as you take in the smattering of dark freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheeks, painting his skin erratically so that you know he must be a work of art, a gift from the gods down to mankind. He is too perfect to be anything else.

Your forehead drops as you let out a shaky breath, steadying yourself with your grip on his shoulders. “I-I know, I just…”

Izuku repositions his hands so they’re beneath your top, the warm pads of his fingertips leaving a blazing trail of fire behind as he maps out the curves of your body. You watch as his ripped costume falls in tattered shreds on his shoulders, giving way to the pretty expanse of skin usually hidden beneath it.

The sight of his flayed skin, coated in scars and painted with beauty marks, makes your spine rattle within your frame. Your fingers drift to the bared parts of his body on instinct, a primal need settling in the pit of your stomach, and you trace over the white, lightning-like scars. Your thumb brushes over his collarbone, as if you could sweep away his freckles to leave behind unmarked skin.

Your mind wanders, thoughts branching out to wonder if there even is a patch of his skin that is pure, unmarred by any form of markings.

Izuku must follow your train of thought, because he peels his hands away from your body to tug his costume at the waist, unbuckling his belt and letting it fall to the floor before he pulls his shirt over his head, or what remains of it. The tattered fabric is in a bloody, dirty heap on the floor, but you barely have the wherewithal to notice when he is bared in front of you.

A gasp parts your mouth when you take in his nude torso. He is a plethora of contours and shadows, sinew holding his muscles together in a taut fashion. Your hands are hovering in front of his chest, darkened nipples piqued under the cool air blowing from the vent above. You have to force yourself to swallow, pent-up tension making your throat bob.

“See?” Izuku’s voice is hoarse, as if he’s holding himself back from tears, “I’m right here.”

Your eyes try to find a part of him that isn’t doused in speckles, the darkened patches of skin making him look even tanner. He has them sprinkled all over his body, clumps of them gathering together like tiny nebulas. Your gaze slowly drags down from his collarbones to his abdomen, the freckled dots like destinations on a treasure map, leading you to one central location.

When you make eye contact with the trail of dark hair that starts at his navel, thin and then growing thicker, you feel your stomach turn over. You lick your drying lips, a heat beginning to build up in your core. You would clench your thighs together, but the way you’re straddling him currently makes that impossible. Instead, you roll your hips forward so you can scoot further up his lap.

It’s like you don’t believe what you see in front of you – that he’s truly here, open and bare in front of you, vulnerable in every sense of the word. The wound on his head has stopped bleeding, but that doesn’t mean that he’s okay.

“Touch me.”

You tilt your head, confused by his forward command. Your cheeks burn bright with a blush and he chuckles at the sight of you so flustered. Midoriya takes you by the hands, guiding your touch to his chest first.

The tips of your fingers blaze when they find a ragged scar that stretches across the entirety of his pectoral, “I have so many of these ugly things.”

“How many?” you find yourself asking, the filter hard to find when he has you about ready to come undone like this. You feel yourself go lightheaded, hazy at the feel of his rough skin, his heart beating irregularly beneath your touch.

His voice is heavy when he answers, “I lost count.”

Your eyes snap upward to find the usual playful green color of his irises has faded to a pale jade shade, “Izu, hey-”

Deku swallows an emotional lump in his throat, eyelids fluttering at the pain of it before he inhales a full breath. His chest brushes up against yours and you have to withhold the whine that desperately wants to slip from your lips.

“I don’t understand why people are so fascinated with them,” his tone is teetering on the wrong side of angry, lips curled in a downward snarl. He glances south at the rest of his body, pale scars in stark contrast to the rest of his tanned body. “They’re just reminders of my failure.”

You are forceful when you pull his jaw upward, yanking him to face you before you kiss him harshly. Your intense kiss makes him gasp, his hips rolling up into you despite the pain he’s in. Your palms are bruising on his cheeks, but you don’t care because at least he’s kissing you. Deku’s fingertips finally make their way to your hips where he seeks purchase against your ribcage. His digits are tantalizing as he roams the expanse of your midsection.

“You’re my hero,” your voice is breathless and broken when you release him for oxygen. “Don’t you ever call yourself a failure again.”

Izuku’s throat bobs as he basks in your ferocity – eyes ablaze and fingertips harsh as you hold him in place. He finds himself nodding without really knowing what you’ve said, but he supposes that’s just the effect you have on him. You have taken root in his soul, the galaxy in your eyes blacking out everything else in his mind, allowing him not even a moment to let self-doubt creep in and steal away his faith.

After all, in his eyes, you are his whole world, shattered stars and all.

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“You picked dinner, so I get to pick the movie,” you wrap your arms around his waist from behind, your palms splayed against his chest as you press kisses into his shoulder blades.

You’re obsessed with his back, like some little secret you don’t get to see very often. Tonight the two of you were doing yoga before you ate dinner, so he’s currently clad in only a pair of compression pants that reach his mid-calf, leaving his entire upper body for you to appreciate with your gaze and explorative touches.

You nose over the curve of his spine, kisses open-mouthed as he washes the dishes in the sink. You hear his breath hitch and you wonder if now is a good time to start experimenting with how far you can go. Your eyes roam to the base of his spine, the two small dimples at the start of the swell of his ass making your mouth salivate. You relinquish one hand from his chest to dip your thumb into the cavity his muscles have created, brushing against a cluster of freckles.

It has been some time since you’ve seen him with his shirt off, and many times since then, but you’ve never been able to discover what’s below his belt. Your mind wanders as you suppress the itch in the base of your fingerprints, like the very code of you is designed to strip him down to nothing. You want to know how far his freckles truly go.

In your mind, you believe that he is sprinkled with stardust, paler patches of freckles sporadically placed along his body. He is a canvas, fresh and ready for the constellations to burn into his flesh. You want to swirl your hands over the galaxies imprinted upon him by the gods themselves; as if he were made of marble, ready to carve and curate however they may please.

You take a leap of faith when you dip your fingertips beneath the tight waistband of his joggers. The aborted stutter of his hips combined with the sharp intake of breath from his throat tells you all you need to know.

From here you can see clusters of freckles on the globes of his ass, concentrated mostly near the top, where sunlight can penetrate when he’s not in his hero suit. You have to catch yourself before you drip drool onto his curved backside.

The hand on his chest roams until you find his pebbled nipple, the crevices of your palm washing over the flesh until you hear a muted moan shake his throat. You lean forward, forehead tucked between the cartilage of his shoulder blades so you can feel the heat radiating from him even closer now.

“Can I-”

“Please.”

You’ve never heard him beg before, at least not like this.

It has been some time since your first date, since the first kiss, since the first confession. Your hands start to sweat at the thought of touching his salacious side, pricking with anticipation as you slowly make your way around his hip towards the bulge in his pants. Your tongue stills within your throat as you brush your thumb against the thick tufts of dark green hair at the base of his stomach beneath his navel.

His body is like a roadmap leading you to one desolate place, his skin singing with heat as you grow closer. You can almost make out a whine that he’s clamped his teeth down on to suppress, but that does nothing to deter you from finding a dozen other ways to elicit an infinite number of those same prurient sounds from his lungs.

When the outside of your palm brushes against the throbbing thickness held tight within his spandex, you feel your whole-body tense. Izuku gulps audibly and you have to hold in something that is a mix of a gasp and a giggle.

You reach your free hand down from his chest to pull at the band of his pants, freeing his cock from the confines of the fabric. You can hear the bob of it against his stomach and you let out a heated breath that spills down over his spine. He shivers and you think that maybe you have him just as captivated as he usually has you.

The thought is thrilling. It bolsters your confidence and allows you the audacity to lean forward and slowly trail your fingers along the base of his cock, tickling him in the most tentative way possible. He grits his teeth and you can feel his buttocks clench in front of you as he tries his hardest not to buck forward and ruin your moment.

You kiss the smattering of freckles near the top of his right shoulder, lavishing the area with your tongue as you trail your thumb up the base of his cock until you reach the tip. You can feel the bead of pre-come beneath the print of your finger and you collect it with the ridges of your digit before dragging it downward to coat him before you begin to pump your hand.

He is thick in your hand, unforgivingly hard as his cock pulses within your grasp. You can tell that it’s taking all of his restraint not to throw his head back and release obscene sounds from his throat, like his desire is caged within his chest, begging to be let out with each erratic heartbeat.

Your tongue licks over his shoulders and you know that he must be imagining what your mouth would feel like wrapped around his cock based on the mewling whimpers that leave his tongue. You can hear him panting, but you want to see him, desperate and whining, so you tug on his waistline with your free palm.

It takes him a moment, his eyes glistening with bliss and his tongue lolled out of his mouth, but you manage to get him turned so he’s facing you. Your eyes drag slowly down the entire expanse of his torso, catching on his pert nipples, bright and pink as they shrink beneath the stinging touch of your fingertips. You catch onto the constellations of freckles drifting along his torso – if you look hard enough, you swear that they move. Your eyes cross when you look too closely, so instead you allow your attention to drop lower.

Izuku’s mouth is wide open as your eyes fall to the vee of his hips, the paler freckles placed there making you smile. You lower yourself to your knees, semi-uncomfortable thanks to the tile of the kitchen, but you don’t care. Right now, your focus is singled in on one thing and one thing alone.

You lick your lips and the closeness of your tongue to his cock makes Izuku blush in expectancy. There is a little line of drool seeping from the corner of his mouth if you blink your eyes free of lust. You pump him another time in your hand, collecting the new wash of pre from his tip to lubricate his cock. As you do so, your eyes drift to the base of him where his green pubic hair collects in a dark tuft. You can’t decide which part of him to focus on because it’s all too much.

Somehow, he has a scar that runs from the innermost part of his thigh upward, just beneath his balls. You wince at the thought of what had to have caused that, and how much it hurt. You allow one hand to drift over the scar as your eyes come into contact with the patch of freckles hidden beneath the trail of dark, coarse hair that is usually hidden by his clothing.

As you pump your hand down to the base of him, you use your thumb to brush some of the hair away, curious as to how dark the freckles are there. Izuku is completely maddened by your touch, fallen under the enchantment of your hands. He doesn’t even mind that you’ve taken a break from dragging your soft hand around his dick, his mind already blitzed from the short burst of ministrations you have already administered.

You hum as you kiss along the taut skin of his lower abdomen, dragging your lips and tongue towards the thick trail of hair that leads you to his cock. It’s almost like the freckled areas taste different, although you’ve probably made all of that up in your mind. And yet, you don’t mind that it’s more of a fantasy instead of a reality, relishing in the sweetness, nonetheless.

“Fuck,” you hear from above you, one of his hands hung in midair, unsure of whether to grab you or the counter. The other palm grips into his hair and the scalp, tugging to keep himself grounded so he does not float away at the gentle caress of your tongue against his skin.

The bow of your lips purses as you kiss upward to the head of his cock, bright red and teeming with pre-come. The silvery, pearlescent bud of arousal makes your mouth water and you find that you can’t help yourself as you encircle your lips around the tip of him.

Izuku is immediately broken from whatever resilience he was able to gather, his hips bucking forward as he slams both hands into the counter. Little broken bits of marble fall into your hair but you don’t care, instead indulging yourself in watching his reaction to your movements. Midoriya’s pupils are blown wide, completely taken over his usually wide irises. The green bleeds black, lust like a cloud misting in his line of sight.

As his upper body tenses, you’re able to see every contour of muscle, every cord of sinew, and you can’t help it when drool dribbles down your chin onto the tile floor. You moan against the head of his cock, taking another inch of him in as you slide forward to get more comfortable. The sound of his nails creaking against the countertop makes your cunt flutter from within the cotton of your panties, clenching around nothing as you imagine the thickness of him in your mouth against your glutinous walls, squeezing him for all the come he can produce.

You trail one hand around the curling scars on his thigh, thumbprint finding the ridges of the expansive scar, the raised skin making your heart ache for a moment before you refocus on his dick. Your eyes almost cross as you try to focus on the freckles now hidden once more by the thick green hair at the bottom of his belly.

As you retreat backward, your line of sight continues down the length of his cock to realize that he has a littering of freckles of varying shapes, sizes, and colors, scattered all along the entire shaft of his dick, and even a few on the tip. You can’t help it when you smile, licking at them as if they could be removed if you lapped at the skin harshly enough.

It is the small things such as this that make your time with Izuku Midoriya so enjoyable. You are learning something about him every day, something even more interesting and exciting than the last.

Before you can slip your lips further down his length, his hand reaches up to clean the debris from your hair, a broken apology parting his lips momentarily. You look up at him, the tenderness in his touch making your heart go soft.

“H-Holy,” his hips buck forward when you blink up at him, the base of his throat bobbing as he curses, “shit.”

As you pull away from his cock, Izuku’s chest shudders as he tries to regulate his breathing. He shifts his feet on the tile beneath you trying to keep himself from pushing up onto the balls of his toes so he can keep some semblance of control as you pleasure him.

Izuku turns away from you and you whine, your tongue licking the underside of his cockhead before you ask, “Why won’t you look at me?”

He can barely force the words out of his throat as he gazes down at you briefly, the sounds coming forth berated and bedraggled, as if he’d dragged barbed wire across the syllables, “I can’t, damn it. I-I’m gonna-”

You take advantage of the line of sight he has on you, opening your mouth wide and taking him in one fell sucking motion.

Midoriya chokes on his own drool, a little silvery string of it falling in midair until it creates a droplet on the crown of your head. He can’t even find the focus to apologize, his knuckles white as he grips the countertop to keep himself sane.

The word he squeaks out next makes you smile, your teeth grazing his dick: “-come.”

You take it as a challenge, gripping his thighs with your nails, digging crescent moons into his pretty tan skin, adding the shapes to his star-like freckled skin, creating a whole galaxy with a simple bruising touch. Izuku can’t help it as his hips stutter forward, the tip of his cock bucking into the back of your mouth to make you gag.

He’s not sure how you do it, with his cock jammed all the way into the back of your throat, but somehow you have the wherewithal to cup his balls in one hand as the other uses his leg like an anchor to stay hovering on your toes. You never cease to amaze him, even now as you’re on your knees and worshipping his cock like your life might depend on it.

“Touch me,” you whimper as you come up for air, “if you won’t look at me, touch me, please.”

Izuku licks his lips and barely has it in him to pull his hand from the counter, but somehow, he manages it. His hand threads through your locks, fingertips buzzing with a mixture of adrenaline and desire. The lust has his whole being singing with anticipation as you bring him to the precipice of arousal. He knows that he won’t last much longer, especially not with you drooling around his cock and bobbing your head in perfect rhythm. And now that he can feel you beneath his fingers, he’s not sure if he’ll even be able to speak coherently when this is all over with.

His hands are exploratory in your hair, dipping in and out of your tresses like waves, finding your scalp to scratch lightly, eliciting a husky moan from your throat. The vibrations of your sounds make his cock pulse, twitching against your tongue as you suck him deeper. Izuku isn’t sure how there is anymore of your throat for him to fuck, but when you hollow out your cheeks, he slides further in, and the pleasure starts to coil around the base of his spine as he’s worked towards his high.

“Baby, I-I’m close,” Izuku manages to blurt when he’s coherent enough, your tongue sweeping down the vein on the underside of his dick. He gasps for breath, his head hanging forward, so his dark curls sweep over his lashes to hide his pretty orbs from you. He grunts, as he ruts up into you, “Real close, hell.”

You take it as a challenge, stiffening your posture so you can force your head up and down, spit dribbling from your mouth and onto your pants, but you don’t care. The way his hands grip into your scalp and the quivering of his thighs as he holds off his own release are but a war cry for you, begging your body to go further, to force that release from within his body.

“Come for me, Izu,” you whimper against his cock, the words muffled by the thick skin of him. You try your best to pout, looking innocent with eyes blown wide, “Please, I wanna taste you. So bad.”

His jaw falls slack, and you know that he’s close, his tip is practically rock hard against your teeth. You hollow out your cheeks and moan as you slowly suck him as hard as you can manage with your jaw starting to ache from the stretch of him. Your pussy clamps around nothing, begging for his girth within your walls.

A few heaving breaths stretch his chest, the muscles of his pectorals rippling in strain as he tries to hold himself back, to respectfully come undone instead of sputtering out like a teenager. You nod with his cock still in your mouth, your tongue padding over the sensitive underside. A wuthering whimper breaks within his throat and you feel his thighs clench one final time before he’s coming apart between your cheeks.

You try to breathe through your nose, his cock buried all the way in your mouth so his come hits in spurts against the back of your throat. You use your hands dug into the plush flesh of his ass to steady yourself, his body uncaring to the pain as long as he’s bucking up into your mouth. His hand in your hair goes tight before falling slack, gentle fingertips wafting through your tresses aimlessly.

You tilt your head back as he begins to soften within your lips, trying to keep his come from dribbling out the corners of your mouth. You catch most of it, the slightly sweet taste of it helping it to go down smoother. You suck him one more time, trying to pull the rest of the arousal from his slit, and a high-pitched whine breaks through the calm of the air like shattering glass.

“S-Sorry,” he moans as his eyes screw shut, one of his palms latching onto the countertop again.

A content laugh turns your lips upward and you kiss the head of his cock before he helps you rise back to your feet. Before you’re upright again, he bolsters forward to kiss you square on the lips. His tongue delves between your teeth, mapping out the curves of your gums as he tastes his spend in each crevice of your mouth.

The moan that reverberates from his chest makes your toes curl, your hands curling to fists against his chest as he presses further into you, trying to be flush with your entire body. You can barely breath as he suffocates you lovingly, bringing stars into your vision as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your hands spread out over the plane of his chest, the tips of your fingers searching for his scars, the placement of them burnt into your mind like a map.

Deku pulls away with a panting string of apologies mixed with appreciation, his irises overtaking his pupils now that he’s come down from his high. His hands search your face and then your arms, taking in every inch of you as he kisses all over your face.

You giggle, wrapping your fingers around his neck to play with the sharp hair at the nape of his neck, the undercut style making his locks dense and coarse up to his ears where the straight line runs.

“What movie do you want to watch?” you ask breathlessly, scrunching your nose as he kisses the tip of it.

Izuku is winded when he nudges his nose against yours, a laugh on the tip of his tongue, “I don’t fucking care.”

You roll your lips together, pushing yourself up on your toes to kiss his mouth chastely, “We might have to do that more often if I’m going to get whatever I want each time.”

The thought of you going down on him makes his heart stutter within the cage of his ribs, stars spread out and blinding against the backs of his lids. He can already imagine the sight of you on your knees, your lips around him as you moan and writhe while he holds your hair tight within his fist…

“Earth to Izuku?” you pat his cheek playfully. “You with us?”

His voice is stuttered as he answers you, a blissful glassiness still coating his irises, “Y-Yeah, I’m right here. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

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“C’mon, Princess, you can take it, I know you can,” he murmurs into midair, voice stern but breathy, sending a shiver down your spine.

You lick at the head of his cock, engorged and bright red, beads of pre-come bubbling out of his slit, awaiting you to catch them with your tongue. You lap over the taut, pinkened skin, eyes fluttering closed at the taste of him – a fine combination of salty and sweet. You can’t help the draw of your attention to the tanned splotches covering him like stardust, mapping out what would seem to be a different set of constellations every time you look too long.

Izuku’s hand is woven into your hair carefully, so he does not pinch your scalp, but he can still hold onto the makeshift ponytail he’s created with his fingers bunched around your tresses. You whimper, eyes torn from his freckled skin, as he guides your mouth closer to his cock, the head of him brushing against your closed lips.

His voice is thick with restraint, his throat bobbing at the sight of your pretty, jeweled irises looking between him and his cock, wondering how you’re going to take the thick of him between your plush little lips. Your eyes are almost crossed as you try to count his freckles, as if you could pay that close of attention when he’s got you on your knees.

“Gonna be a good girl for me, Angel?” Deku is patronizingly kind as he brushes his knuckles over the curve of your jaw. Your eyes zero in on the scarred stripes along his palm and forearm, your fingertips reaching up to slowly drag across the pale lines that tell a story you’ve heard a dozen times. Izuku makes an audible noise of consideration at your marveling, “You were just beggin’ me for my cock, and now you won’t even open your mouth for me?”

He sounds like he’s pouting, lower lip jutted out just enough for it to look convincing. You swallow your inhibitions, throat bobbing when he brushes his cock along the hollows of your cheeks, the head of him smearing what remains of his pre onto your skin. He chuckles as you gasp, your jaw hung open just enough for him to rut up into your mouth.

You gag around him, lurching forward as tears coat your lashes. You whimper, looking up to him like he might save you from what’s to come. But no, you asked for this. You begged him to let you taste his cock, to have him spill his fullest load onto your tongue and force you to swallow.

“Such a pretty girl,” his words turn to a moan as you take him to the base, forcing yourself to breathe evenly so you won’t gag around him again. His hand in your hair tightens and you take a deep breath, the short, stubbled pubic hairs surrounding his cock doing little to hide the freckles on his smooth skin.

You’re not sure why you love them so much – the freckles.

They are such a distraction that you don’t notice Izuku yanking you by the ponytail until you come off his cock with a loud pop. You whine, keening forward to try and lick at his tip, “I-Izu-please.”

“Uh uh,” he cinches his hand around your hair even tighter, tugging your skin backward until it burns. A smirk lilts his lips, “What’s my name, baby girl?”

Your eyes go wide, pupils swallowing your irises whole. Deku almost misses the color, if it not for the fucked out look that takes their place, telling him exactly what he’s done to you. He bites down on his lower lip, half-hooded lids considering you, “You’re already a mess for me, aren’t you baby? I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Your cock,” you whine, squinting your eyes so you don’t have to feel his authoritative penetrating your very being. Your thighs tense, pussy clamping down around nothing but thin air, wet with arousal and begging to be full of him. Before Izuku can tell you to correct yourself with a simple syllable, you repeat yourself, “Your cock, Daddy.”

A satisfied expression smooths his features, the red of his cheeks doing little to hide the smattering of freckles to match those littered across his cock and thighs. You brush your nose against his navel, kissing the gentle swell of muscle beneath it. Izuku licks his lips, hips rolling forward so his cock brushes over the length of your throat.

“That’s’a good girl.” Deku purses his lips as you kiss down his shaft, your tongue lapping over every inch of him. Your eyes are level with his pubic bone, searching for the tanned droplets of sunshine incarnate on his skin, hidden beneath dark tufts of jade hair curled around the base of his cock.

Before you take him between your lips, you lick a stripe from the underside of his shaft up to his navel. You can’t help yourself as the dark smattering of freckles call out to you, a reminder that even though he is tainted by the war of the world, you still have these small victories to come back to. You worship his taut skin with your lips and tongue, the muscle parting your mouth to lick at his body.

Izuku’s fingers weave into the hair at the base of your head, eyes watching you closely as you pay special attention to the various patches of densely packed freckles. You nose over his hipbone, breathing slowly, the wash of warmth prickling his skin and forcing him up on his toes as he reacts to it.

There is a large part of him that wants you to stop. Not because he’s selfish enough to force you to pay attention to the throbbing heat between his legs, but rather because your praise is something that makes him feel even more unworthy. He is self-conscious of his body, both the discolored spots that he’s never able to be rid of in tandem with the ragged rips in his flesh that you seem to love so much. He has never understood your fascination with his body, but you are relentless with your affections.

It comes in many forms. At times it is the way you run your fingertips over his shoulders when you’re laying together, and other times it is your mouth finding his knuckles when you think he’s asleep. You are unashamed to lavish his body with unending passion, and even the smallest of deformities that he believes are his secret, you manage to find.

You loll your tongue out to let the collected spit pool over his length, sucking at the head when you get to it. Deku rubs his thumb against your neck, fingertips searching your hair for purchase. He’s taken aback when you hollow out your cheeks, sucking him deep into the heat of your mouth. His eyes go wide, but he’s thankful you can’t see with the way his head is thrown back.

“Fuck, baby,” his hand twitches against your scalp, “fuck, this mouth.”

He starts rolling his hips forward, pumping himself in and out of your mouth like he might your pussy. You feel drool seeping out of the corners of your lips but you don’t dare break away, because that would bring forth a punishment, and your cunt is already sopping wet with the anticipation of his cock buried deep within you. Deku grunts, his chest vibrating with the sound, and he holds you still with the hand against your head.

You reach up to find his free palm, lacing your fingers together at the knuckle, using him as some sort of an anchor to reality as the subservient headspace begins to take over. It washes through you like a balm, a warm sensation that feels like home.  Your eyelids fall over your irises, hiding your expression from him, but he can tell the way you feel by your ministrations against his hand and on his cock. You are desperate for him, one hand clutching his thigh until your nails dig in and leave tiny crescent moon prints behind.

You like to think of his freckles as stars, your marks making him more like the night sky with each grip. You moan as you hold yourself at the base of him, tongue lapping around his length from within your mouth. Your thumb finds a familiar scar on the back of his hand, knuckles marred from battle and bravery.

It’s times like these that you want to cry for him, for what his body has endured. It’s the reason you want to worship every inch of him, to give him what he deserves because god knows the world will never give him back what he’s due. So here you sit, perched in front of him like a little dove, eyes blown to hell and your metaphorical wings spread wide as you take him for all he’s worth.

Izuku can’t take it any longer – the tenderness of your touch mixed with the obedient look in your eyes. It’s all too much, making his head spin at your sincerity.

“C’mere,” he whispers, tugging you by the throat, gently but firmly.

And you follow him, like you would follow him anywhere.

You step forward dumbly, blindly going wherever he tells you. He guides you to the bed, turning you over so your face is pressed into the coolness of the sheets, your bright red cheeks thankful for the change in temperature. You angle your ass upward perfect, round globes ripe for his hands to lay into.

“Such a sloppy little pussy, baby,” he murmurs against the skin of your lower back as he kisses down your spine. His middle finger runs up and down the length of your slit, collecting the silvery strands against his digit, “All this just for me?”

“All for you, Daddy, all for you, promise,” you’re whimpering out, cunt desperately clenched as you try to trap his finger in your heat. “Please, I want you so bad, need your cock, Daddy.”

Izuku pushes his finger into your core, curling it up towards that special spot that it seems only he can find. His finger is thick, knuckle curved in just the right way that it drags along your walls salaciously, eliciting a loud, careening moan from your mouth. You muffle your sounds into the mattress, but Midoriya is having none of that.

He yanks you by the throat, fingers digging deep into your skin until you’re sure that you’ll have bruises, “Nah uh, little one. I want to hear you scream for me.”

Midoriya pumps his finger into you mercilessly, your arousal coating him down to the palm, making your thighs slick. You whimper, your lewd sounds echoing off the walls. You can feel the tip of his cock against your ass, throbbing with heat, and there’s nothing you can do to stop yourself from imagining it in place of his fingers.

“I know you can be louder, slut,” Deku pinches your neck tighter in his grip, “I want the neighbors to know my name when we’re through.”

You try to protest but it’s cut short when his finger rams into you, two knuckles deep, a sharp cry splitting your throat wide open. The sound morphs into a whimper, tears stinging in the corners of your eyes.

Deku leans forward to kiss between your shoulder blades, his voice hoarse with want when he speaks, “That’s my girl. Do it again.”

He relinquishes your throat to start slapping your ass, his eyes unable to fall away from your pretty skin marked red from his ministrations. You grit your teeth together so you can better withstand the pain, giving yourself something else to focus on besides his unrelenting spankings.

“Daddy, harder,” you whine, your ass stinging but not so much that you can’t follow through on your plea.

A dark chuckle reverberates throughout the room, Midoriya’s smirk from earlier returning. If you could see his eyes, you’d notice the way his pupils have completely overtaken his emerald orbs, giving way to the parts of him that want to make you hurt only so he can be the one to soothe you all better.

He indulges you, palm stretched wider so he can land harder smacks to your cheeks. Now he’s got two fingers in you, filling your cunt with his knuckles, the scars against them giving you friction that makes you see stars. He pumps you in time with his spankings, slow but merciless. Deku is careful not to go too far, no matter how difficult that might be with the lust that clouds his vision, painting his sight bright red.

“Good girl,” he rewards you by stopping, grabbing your plush ass in his fingertips, digging blunt nails into your skin so it stings even harsher.

You rut your hips back against his hand at the sudden jolt of pain, tears dripping from your eyelids to the mattress, staining the sheets a darker shade. You whimper, your mind unable to focus on any one stimulation – your ass, your cunt, or your throat.

“You think you’re ready for my cock?” he asks, although you know it to be rhetorical.

You’re nodding your head anyway, desperately begging inaudibly for him to stuff you full, your cunt suffocating around his cock as he pounds into you. Deku slowly drags his hand from your pussy, words dripping just like your core, “What was that, Princess? I couldn’t hear you.”

Now you’re foaming at the mouth to force syllables from between your teeth, blubbering around tears. You sniffle, frustrated with your own headspace and timid with the thought of punishment for not answering quick enough, “Y-Yes, Daddy. I-I’m ready.”

“Hey,” he runs his hand, searing from the spankings, up the length of your spine, fingertips mapping out each vertebra, “you still with me, baby?”

You turn to look over your shoulder when he brushes his thumb over the little blooming bruises on your neck, evidence of his fingers claiming you for his own, “Yeah, I-I’m right here.”

A smile tugs on his lips, his fingers finally pulled from your sopping heat to coat his cock in your slick. You whimper at the loss of contact, cunt fluttering around nothing as you beg for him to fill you up again, any way he chooses.

And he obliges you, bottoming out within the first stroke.

You can’t help it when a fresh set of saltine droplets track down your cheeks, your head thrown back in pleasure as he holds himself steady, his pelvis flush with your ass. It still burns, the stinging of skin-on-skin doing little to quell the ache from his spankings. You lick your lips to try and soothe yourself in some way, your throat already crackling from use.

Licking your lips, you gently move back against him, encouraging him, “Daddy, I want you to fuck me. Please, won’t you fuck me?”

Deku sounds like he’s trying to hold back some sort of salacious sound, a strangled noise caught in his throat like barbed wire. You look back at him, chin pressed against your collarbone. It’s the sight of you that does him in, that wants to claim you for every ounce of what you’ve got to give. He wants to mark your body until there is no color remaining but bright purple and blue and red, bruises and scrapes alike adorning your pretty body, letting the whole world know exactly who you belong to.

The thought of sinking his teeth into every available spot of skin that he can find makes his fingers curl tighter around the supple skin of your thighs until you’re crying out for him. You writhe beneath him as opens his eyes, baring even your soul with his stare. His body squirms as he withstands the desire to launch himself at you, feral and promising with his teeth finding your pristine body and marring it for his own selfish cause.

At least then your bodies would match in their markings.

You’d be his own little galaxy; he muses as his hands massage into your thighs to keep himself busy, so he doesn’t follow through on the yearnings rolling around in his mind. He can see you stood next to him, your body littered in affections – hickeys that are blown out all around your body, little nebulas and planets with their swirling colors of purple and blue; long lines of bright pink scratch marks that streak forward like shooting stars curling around your muscles; pierced tooth marks that scatter across your body like stars.

Even though he’s the Number One Pro Hero, Izuku has never felt so whole until he’s balls deep in your pussy, the tip of him tucked up against your cervix so much so that you swear you feel him in your spine. He takes one palm to gently brush over your stomach, the bulge of his cock making his pride swell almost as much as your belly. You are his whole world, whether or not you are just as bruised and battered as he is. He will bear the burden of the scars if it means he can have you like this forever.

“Take me so well, Princess,” he murmurs into the skin of your shoulders, leaning forward so his chest is pressed flush with your back.

He is hot, but not unbearably so. Almost in a way that reminds you he is still there, an anchor for your soul to latch onto in the darkness of the room, holding you firmly to tether you to this version of reality. You grasp the sheets in your hands, desperate to feel him but unable to from this position, so you settle for the thread count instead.

“Please, Daddy, I want to feel you,” you beg him again, whimpers bubbling up into your chest like champagne bubbles. The effervescent feeling is almost too much, too overwhelming, as it rushes to your head quickly. You have to close your eyes, so you do not get dizzy. You see stars as your lids come down over your pupils and the sight of them reminds you of Izuku’s body. So much so that you want to look up at him again, begging him with your words, “Want to touch you.”

Deku obliges you, slowly pumping his tremoring cock in and out of your heat, coating himself in your slick before twisting your body around so you can peer up at him through half-lidded eyes, “Look at this slutty, sloppy pussy. Such a pathetic little mess for me, aren’t’cha?”

“Yes, Daddy, all for you.” You nod, blinking repeatedly to try and keep your eyesight clear so you can make out his beautiful travesty of a body. Despite the absolute adoration held in your pretty orbs, Deku notices that it is not his face you seek out when you first are turned to look at him, instead your eyes drift to the bared parts of his body that he hates most.

It would seem that each time you find him this way, with your hands mapping out his torso underneath your touch, you find a new part of him, a new marking that you don’t remember being there before. Your breath shudders from your lungs and it feels like thunder erupts in your chest when you breathe, “Please, Daddy.”

You are pouting as you start to run your touch up his arms, starting at his wrists where his palms are pinning your hips into the bed. You swirl your thumbnail around the familiar scars of his hands, those old marks from his time at Yuuei, pushing himself to be the best young hero-in-training there ever was. You recall watching the Sports Festival in his first year, the fight with Todoroki Shouto like a burnt ember settled in the back of your mind. You see the fire and the ice, the shuddering arena shaking with the imminent power of the teenager prodigies.

A hum buzzes in your throat as your fingerprints map out the way to his elbows, finding lengthy scars that make you shudder. Your tongue lolls out against your lips as you wish you could patch his body up with your kiss. You know that he does not marvel at the sight of himself in the same way that you might; you put him up on this pedestal, scars and all, and yet he only sees them as a weakness.

The rough patch of tarnished skin on his right bicep has begun to lose its rigidity as time passes. It was one of his first scars and has been worn down with time. Your hand still finds it, though, even as your eyes are screwed shut and he is angled away from you. It’s like you have a map of his body burned into the back of your eyelids, memorized from all of the times that you’ve fallen apart beneath him or comforted him with your touch.

He is patronizing when he speaks next, eyes blown to hell at the sight of you so far gone for him when he hasn’t even brought you to your first orgasm. He can feel you spasming around him, cunt flexing to try and coax him closer to the edge. He is nowhere near the precipice, holding himself off for your sake, wanton to see you come undone around his cock.

Your pupils try their hardest to focus, begging to be drawn to his bedraggled skin, the stark contrast between tan skin and pale scars heightened even further in your blissed-out state. Your palm flattens against the marking on his bicep, the flayed spot even more expansive than your hand in its entirety. You gasp as he ruts up into you painfully quick, your fingers digging into the rugged flesh, nails biting against the ridges.

When he stills within you, it gives you a moment to slacken your hold and trace the corners of the scar, pretending that he is a patchwork quilt, an antique that you’ll never be able to get enough of. You take a breath and use your free hand to find his chest, a lightning-bolt shaped scar that runs from his collarbone down until it fizzles out into a small scratch near where his taut pectorals meet.

Midoriya trails his thumb downward to your clit, brushing the rough pad of his finger against your sensitive bud. You mewl into the mattress, face turning sideways into the pillow as you no longer are able to hold yourself upright. You beg him to fuck you harder, faster, with something more that you know he has not given you yet.

“What do you want, baby girl? Tell Daddy exactly what you want me to do to this pathetic, slutty little pussy.”

You gasp out words, but he cannot make sense of them as they’re lost in the fabric of the sheets. He slams into you once before dragging his cock outward, slowly skimming the tip between your folds, “Louder. Or else I’m spanking you again.”

He thinks for a moment, tilting his head to consider you as he looks down his nose at you, “And I’m flipping you back over.”

“N-No, please, wanna-” You are begging for breath, your inflamed lungs burning with the lack of oxygen, and you can’t make syllables coherent enough for him to understand. You whimper, squeezing your eyes closed as the brunt of his hand comes down hard over your ass repeatedly until you’re screaming.

Izuku is holding you by the ass, both hands dug deep into the plush skin, “Did I fucking stutter?”

You are able to behold one last gaze of his ethereal body, skin marked like the night sky, before he has you with your face dug into the pillow, his cock and hips jackhammering into you from behind. He does not give you but a moment to breath, the fabric of the pillow stuffing your throat as you try to inhale through your mouth. You cough and it causes your cunt to squeeze around his dick. Deku stutters forward, a choking sound echoing in the back of his throat.

“Holy hell,” he mutters, leaning forward to drape himself across your back, reaching around with his hands to pinch at your nipples. “So fuckin’ tight, little one. Such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You whimper out something that sounds like a response, so he takes the lead and starts rutting into you again, the obscene sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing off of the walls. You can’t help the drool that spills from your tongue, wetting the sheets and sticking to your chin. You’re practically in tears as he abuses your pussy with his cock, it only growing as you feel the buildup of his power starting to swell from within him.

The air turns electric, but not nearly hot enough for you to know that he’s turned his quirk on. You force a glance over your shoulder, mewling out something that sounds like a pleading cry for him to turn you back so you can gaze up at him again.

“But I like taking you like this, Princess,” Izuku runs his thumbs over your ass, using the cusp of his power to strike small lightning bolts of seafoam color against the skin of your backside. You jolt at the pain, bucking your hips back into him and he moans, “There you go, baby.”

You whine, curling your toes against his hips from your position. He chuckles at the sign of desperation, sweat glistening down your back from exertion. His hips slam forward again, and you’re sure he’s bruised your cervix this time with how deep he has buried himself into you. There are ridges of scar tissue around his hip bones that you can feel even as he fucks into you from behind, the raised skin making your ass burn from where he has slapped you with the strength of his quirk.

“Daddy, I wanna,” you are panting like a puppy into the sheets, your pussy dripping onto the mattress beneath you. You huff out a breath and squeal when he splits your pussy open again with a particularly rough thrust forward, “Daddy!”

Deku pinches your backside with both hands, the biting touch of pain making your eyes water until tears are coating your lashes and staining the pillowcase, “What, huh? What more do you want, Princess?”

You know that Izuku is a sucker for your needs. If you whine hard enough, he’ll give you anything you want. So, with that in mind, you pout to give your demeanor an even more innocent aspect, “I-I wanna kiss you, p-please.”

As expected, he stills his hips from where he is bruising your ass with his scars and bones alike. You wonder for a moment if the imprint of his marred skin will leave an impression on you if you could carry around a little piece of him always.

However, this time when he yanks himself from you, a squelching sound echoes throughout the room in tandem with your mewling whine at the loss of heat, and he does not reenter you immediately. You are about to stutter out something akin to a protest, but you feel his fingertips dip into your sides and instead you let loose a yelp.

Deku takes you by the hips, easily yanking you upward and flipping you around so your back is flush with the mattress, the sweat on your spine making the sheets stick to you. Your eyes are wide, hands gripping into his marred biceps like claws sinking into his skin.

“What?” he is smirking as he nudges his nose against yours, the heat of his cock pressed into your folds but not penetrating just yet. “I like this angle better.”

He nips at your skin before pulling himself back, his hand groping your breast with purpose. He is tweaking your nipple under his touch while his other hand runs his cock against your slick heat, teasing you mercilessly. He watches the lips of your pussy tense when he gets close, wavering at the anticipation of his cock dredging into you with force.

“Plus,” Deku tilts his head, palm reaching up from your chest to grab your face between his fingers, “you never answered me.”

His thumb finds your clit again, dick teasing you by resting between your thighs, throbbing and dripping with a mixture of your arousal and his pre. His fingers are intense as they squeeze your cheeks together, lips ballooned out pertly. Deku chuckles at the sight of you, red in the face and begging him for more with the subtlety of your eyes.

Something twinges within him as he can’t keep your focus on his eyes, but rather on his body. He should feel pride swell in his chest at your adoration of his finely tuned body from years of hard work, but he knows that you are focused on the scars of his body and it gives him a sour taste in his mouth.

The thoughts in his mind flee from your pert chest and smooth stomach and instead he wonders what it is about his skin that you find so enticing. You run your fingertips over each ridged scar, finding the different colors of worn skin beneath the pads of your hands, showing them immense affection with just a gentle touch. His whole body shudders at the feel of you appreciating him with massaging motions and tracing, but he wants to ask you the questions he’s been begging silently for months, years even.

You are trying to form words, but the only thing coming from your mouth is spittle, drool seeping through the cracks of your lips until it coats your chin, cool beneath the air conditioning. Slowly your eyes roll forward so you can look into his darkened pupils, the middle of his irises resembling the darkest beauty marks that he has littered throughout his body. You smile at the sight of his intense irises seeking you out.

Midoriya laughs as the heel of his hand sops it up, smearing it back against your lips before cleaning his palm on the bed sheets. He leans forward, his cock sheathed fully within you as he grows closer to your face. Your palm reaches out to cup his jaw, the tips of your fingers finding the familiar pale lines of his skin to trace like it were a nervous tick.

“C’mon, now,” he kisses your nose, an innocent gesture in stark contrast to the intense motions he’s administering to your clit. “Tell Daddy.”

Your mouth splits wide open with the three words, a confession you know that he’s heard you utter before, but it does not come any less lascivious from your lips the more you beg, “One for All.”

He does not respond immediately, pupils dilated as he glances down at you. Your body squirms beneath his lack of movement, begging for some sort of friction on any part of you. The skin of your ass tingles as he presses you down firmer into the mattress, and you want to cry out but all you can blubber is those three words, again and again, as you plead for him to use his quirk on you.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you swear to him, nodding your head enthusiastically, “I want it so bad, Daddy, please, I want you to-”

Your begging is cut short by a sizzling in the air, the familiar popping of his quirk activating making your skin pebble with goosebumps. Your mouth runs dry at the sight of his skin lighting up with those familiar red lines, power coursing through his veins and making his hair stand on end.

Reaching up, you run your fingers through it, nails scraping at his scalp so you can feel the heat of his energy sparking against your fingertips. You arch your back upward to try and catch some of the wayward sparks, the salacious stinging of your skin only furthering the copious amount of slick between your thighs.

Deku tilts his head up to look you in the eyes, pupils shrunken down so his sea green irises can shine bright, glowing in the darkness of your bedroom. The entire room is aglow with his power, the very strength and resilience that has allowed him to build up so much intensity a conduit for your pleasure. His cock pulses against your thighs and you find yourself clenching around him, your body begging for him to stay close, too frightened at what might happen if he were to pull away.

“This what you wanted?”

His voice is deeper now, a rumbling timbre in his chest that makes your toes curl. You are panting at the expectancy of it all, sweat trickling down your temples and spine from the sudden change in temperature. The heat rises the longer he uses his quirk, so much so that you wonder if you could burn from it. The thought excites you, lights up your eyes until you cannot hold it in anymore.

You lean forward to kiss him on the mouth, slotting your lips between his. Pops of electricity stem from his entire body, sparking in midair before fizzling out with a gentle wash of ash. Deku licks at the seam of your lips, pressing his tongue between your teeth to map out every bump of your gums.

“Please,” you whimper against his tongue, “fuck me, hero.”

You have no more than spoken the words when his cock slips into your heat, coated with your arousal as quickly as he can rut forward. He grits his teeth to keep his composure, body trying to crumble between the use of his quirk and the feel of your tight cunt. You can’t help but notice the way he stretches you out even more so now than before, and you know that it’s in part to the fact that his girth has widened even further after he’s summoned his dormant power.

Deku reaches forward to press his glowing palm to your chest, rolling the bud of your breast between his fingertips as he starts to fuck into you. Your body is racked with effort, practically a ragdoll beneath him, all weak joints and jellied bones. And yet he is as powerful as ever between his mouth and his hands and his dick, every part of him built for your utmost undoing.

Lines of electricity fly from his body, bright green lightning strikes making the air pop all around you. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth when the first one stings your skin, lighting up the room in a flash of intense voltage. Izuku pauses, his hips stilling, “Baby?”

“Again,” you are panting, eyes half-closed as you revel in the pleasure from the shockwave. “Please.”

Deku has to focus on the electric side-effect of his quirk, closing his eyes so he can control the power radiating from his body. He starts to roll his hips into you slowly, once he feels settled with the coursing energy brought on by One for All.

You peel your lids back so you can watch as energy rushes through his frame, lighting up his body in such a way that reminds you of the pure power that he keeps hidden from the world most of the day. The light coursing just beneath his skin only serves to further draw out the beauty of his marred skin. His freckles are stars painted against the bright red and green patterns of electricity surging around his body like lightning bolts. You reach up to brush your thumbs against the apples of his cheeks, sucking in a breath at the sheer heat he’s radiating.

The reality that you have the very universe under your touch does not go unnoticed by you. You marvel at the constellations splayed out before you on his skin, giving you a small drop of the milky way right here in your home. It is overwhelming, the thought of it all dizzying as the heat thuds against the back of your eyes. And despite the boulder that sits on your shoulders at the burden of having to hold up his universe, you feel a jolt of exhilaration with the responsibility settling in your belly. You will be the one who he can crumble into when he’s tired of shining out for everyone else.

After all, a star can only be born after a nebula collapses.

Deku’s arms are strong around you as he holds you in place, cock sliding deep into your heated core, collecting your slick and his pre for easier lubrication, the thick vein on the underside of his shaft making you shiver as it drags against your walls. His biceps flex with the use of his quirk and the effort of holding you in midair to keep you snapped up into him and your hands are drawn to his bulging muscles all over again.

There is no doubt that he could keep you safe from any harm – one flick of his fingers, and a villain is rendered to a helpless annoyance.

The notion makes you shiver, reaching your hands up towards his shoulders, caressing his arms to feel the protruding cords of muscle rippling under the stress of his quirk. Your fingerprints find scars, puckered pink and marring his pretty tan skin. Other people might think that these markings make him weak, proving that he is fallible, mortal. But you think that every line on his body is a visible reminder that he has given so much to those who might not ever give it back. He has been beaten, bruised, and broken, and yet here he still stands, tall and proud in the face of danger.

Izuku knows that look in your eyes – wonder, awe, respect.

It swells his pride even further, his chest taut as he puffs himself up at the sight of you with adoration like stars in your irises. His thrusts are more intense now, guiding you closer to the cusp of pleasure, begging your body with the pulse of his cock to come undone.

“I-Izu, please.” You’re pushing your face into the pillow now, the burning hot pool building up steam in your belly becoming too much. He doesn’t even care that you’ve slipped up, not when he’s got you wrapped around him like a coil, working you from the inside out to drag the licentious sounds from your throat.

“Please what, Princess?” His hand sparks electricity around your chest, your nipple now pert with the fizzle of electricity as it creeps beneath your skin and into your veins. “Look at me, c’mon.”

He smacks the side of your breast, watching as the round flesh ripples under his ministrations. He breathes heavy, his chest inflating rapidly as his hips drill mercilessly into you. You clamp around him, quietly pleading with him to stay buried to the hilt so you.

When you don’t respond by turning your head, Midoriya grabs you by the cheeks, dominantly forcing your vision back to him. He’s almost regretful when you whimper, a shining trail of drool spilling from your mouth to pool into the pillowcase. The damp spot draws his attention and his cock twitches within your pussy, brushing up into your cervix and making you cry out, throat so hoarse that your voice cracks.

Izuku blinks hard, pulling his eyes away from the dark circle on the pillow to focus on your face, slipping his thumb into your mouth to press down on the center of your tongue. He smirks, his free hand holding you by the ass now, digging blunt nails into your flesh to create a conduit for his electricity to flow straight to your backside.

You whimper around his digit, the sound muffled by his finger, “G-Gonna come, Daddy.”

“Are you now?” he asks proudly, tilting his head to consider you. “Did I say you could come?”

You’re shaking your head as he grabs your ass harder, bringing tears to your eyes at the immense pressure combined with the raw feeling from his spankings earlier. As if to challenge you, Deku starts jutting forward, driving your hips deeper into the mattress until you feel like you might fall through.

The use of his quirk makes him so much stronger, his corded body trying to restrain from using its full power on you, despite calling all of it forward. He grits his teeth down so hard that you think you hear his jaw creaking, but you hardly have time to notice before you’re having to ward off your own pleasure. Using every ounce of One for All, Izuku bruises your cervix with the engorged head of his cock, the quirk enlarging every part of him.

You beg him with blurred words and hazy vision, whining and keening, until he’s leaning down close to your face, his hand now moved from your mouth to your throat, wet fingers wrapped around your neck.

“Good girl,” he murmurs with his nose against your cheek, lips dancing along your jawline to place feather light kisses, much in contrast to the otherwise bludgeoning intensity of the rest of his ministrations. “Such a pretty little thing.”

Your eyes find his face as he leans back to look down at you, the freckles dusted over his cheeks stark beneath his bright red streaks symbolizing the use of his quirk. You reach upward to tuck your palm against his cheek, cupping the skin burning hot with the coursing energy of his power. Your thumb brushes over the roundest part of his face and his eyes shudder closed at the feeling.

He kisses your wrist, bottoming out into your cunt with a harsh thrust forward. Deku turns his gaze to you, electric irises finding your soul through way of your pupils, “You gonna come when I tell you?”

“Yes, yes,” you’re practically foaming at the mouth, little spit bubbles at the corners of your lips at the thought of coming around his cock, your arousal mixed with his seed as he fills your core with his come. “Please, Daddy, I wanna come for you.”

Izuku nods, kissing your wrist again before falling back on his thick legs to grab you by the thighs, lifting you up off the mattress. It is just a display of his strength, his biceps bulging with effort, but it does what he intends for it to do when he feels your dripping arousal slipping from your slit down to drip onto the mattress.

“Fuck, look at your sloppy little pussy, Princess,” Deku moans at the sight of your silvery slick pouring out of you. He runs his thumb against the curve of your backside to catch what he can, running it over your clit before sucking his digit between his teeth.

Using his damp fingertip, Izuku begins to work at your clit, his other hand still pinning your thighs up in midair. He licks his lips at the sight of you on the cusp of pleasure, your body begging to come undone with the way your pussy clamps around his cock.

“C’mon, baby,” he coaxes you with a kind voice, electric pops crackling in the air like fireworks. “Come for me.”

You quit holding back, letting your body rush with a mix of adrenaline and pleasure. Every part of you is on fire, from his touch mixed with the searing heat of his body and the green lightning that strikes your body to leave tiny pink pucker marks. The sight of you marked up by his teeth and tongue and quirk bring him to his own heightened arousal, unable to hold back when he feels you gush with come from within the confine of your walls.

The glowing iridescent light making the room fluorescent fades into the dark with every spurt of his come into your cunt until he is no longer using One for All.

“Good girl,” he kisses your cheek, “now let’s get you cleaned up, hm?”

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

You’re not sure what flips the switch within you – whether it’s the tight look of his uniform showing off the peaked buds of his nipples and the engorged head of his cock, or if it’s the blush on his freckled cheeks, making him look so much younger than the twenty plus years old he is now.

Whatever it is, it makes your mouth water and your fingertips buzz.

“Bedroom. Now.”

“B-But, the pad tha-”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

Izuku’s thighs spasm at the authoritative tone of your voice and suddenly he feels about two inches tall despite towering over you no matter the situation. He tucks his head downward as he walks past you, down the hall towards the bedroom the two of you now share. Usually he is the one speaking those words as he stands over the top of you, his hand stinging red from spanking your ass as he orders you around, but the way they sound from your tone of voice makes his entire body quake.

The soft click of the door as it slips shut makes goosebumps rise on his skin, the stubbled hair on the back of his neck standing as upright as possible. There is a grunt from your mouth and a shuffling of your feet on the carpet as you kick off your shoes.

“B-Baby, I-”

Somehow you have shoved your foot into the crook of his knee, toppling him over onto the bed so he’s face first into the mattress, his ass perked upward as he tries to balance himself so he does not fall over. The globes of his backside are stretched tight within the spandex of his uniform, and you know the beautiful expanses of freckled skin that lay beneath the material.

Izuku looks over his shoulder, attempting to protest or ask you what is wrong, but you don’t want to hear it, so you lean forward and press your palm against his cheek, “You don’t speak unless spoken to, do you understand?”

He’s whimpering under your harsh touch, but the way his pupils dilate tells you that he’s enjoying it at least enough to test it out. You shove yourself backward, centered between his ass cheeks as your knees dig into the edge of the mattress. The tips of your fingernails run over the plush flesh of his backside, digging in to make him gasp and writhe beneath you.

Your heart hammers in your chest at seeing the up and coming Pro Hero wriggling like a frightened animal under your ministrations, and you’ve barely laid a hand on him yet. You run your knuckle up his spine, “Take your top off.”

The way he balances his head on the mattress and grapples with his shirt in an attempt to take it off is almost comical, so you crack a smile, thankful that he can’t see you. You lick your lips and drag your hand back down his back to rest at the base of his spine as he scrambles to take the shirt off, but he’s too flustered and it ends up bunched up around his neck and shoulders.

Finally, he gets so frustrated that he rips the fabric in half, shreds of thread falling against his skin and the sheets. You feel heat flood to your core, your spine white hot within your body, the tingles of heat spreading from the center of you outward until your fingertips and toes are blazing with fire.

You hum in appreciation at the sight of his rippling shoulders and trap muscles, his body shifting to dip back into the mattress, balancing all of his weight on his forearms as he leans forward. Your touch drifts from his shoulders to his obliques, the bumps of muscle corded beneath your digits. You watch as his body ripples with a shiver, every one of his muscles tensing as your fingers pad over his freckles, finding patches of darker skin to administer affection to.

It must be the pure anticipation that has his frame tense and quivering, the smallest of muscles twitching as you work your hands around his body. You settle your palms at his hips, flattening your hand against the expanse of skin at the center of his torso, “Baby, relax.”

You lean forward and kiss the dense smattering of freckles between his shoulder blades, “Now be a good little hero and take off your pants.”

The way you say it sends another wave of pleasure straight to his cock, the already throbbing organ about ready to bust from arousal and you haven’t even disrobed him yet.

Your feet pad against the carpet as you find your way to the edge of the bed, stripping out of your outerwear until you’re left in only a dark lace set, the filigree bringing out the beauty of your skin. Izuku goes dumb at the sight, turning his head just enough to get an eyeful of your chest area. His eyes about bug out of his head, wide and blown with lust as his tongue lolls over his lips, dripping a silvery string of drool onto the bed sheets.

“C’mon, Deku,” you force the word to come out in a patronizing tone, “strip for me.”

He swallows, his throat bobbing, but somehow manages to push through the aroused haze clouding his judgment to wriggle himself out of his tight-fitting hero suit. The bright green fabric is left in a pool on the floor, tattered clothes just the start of your destruction.

The head of his cock is bright red and there is a part of you that falters, wanting to beg him to take control and absolutely demolish your pussy with his harsh, controlling movements and his filthy mouth. It lasts but a moment, and yet he can still see it. There is a shift in his eyes, the way he considers you, and he leans forward to say something, but you’re grabbing him by the face, cheeks between your fingers, before he can speak.

“Roll over.”

Izuku does as told with little hesitation, flopping his shoulders around so his ass is once again in the air, primes and ready for your palm to lavish with spankings. Your breath shudders from your lungs and you lock your thighs in place by tensing them, centering yourself between his knees. The balls of his heels come into contact with your hips as he sways slightly, his mind dizzy from the promise of pleasure.

“How many?” you ask, your voice low and sultry, surprising even you with the depth of it.

A choking noise can be heard, but it’s muffled by the pillow. You chuckle, patting his ass prospectively, feeling the flesh ripple beneath your complacent prodding. Dipping forward, your chest falls flush with his back as you press feathery kisses over his midsection, finding the freckles like little gold pieces, adding each one to your treasure chest as you kiss it.

Izuku manages to spit out a number, something reasonable, and so you add a few more on top of it in your mind, smirking even though he cannot see you. You run the pads of your fingers down from the tops of his shoulders to the globes of his ass, the perky, round muscles making your stomach flip. You can’t wait to see the way his bruised ass mixed with the dark brown freckles of his skin – how beautiful the colors will be, how it might actually look more like a galaxy with shades of purple and blue as an accent to the brunette freckles dotting his skin like the night sky currently.

You reach your hands back and start to lay into him, counting the spankings in your head without keeping track of them aloud. You stop after you’re satisfied with his whimpering cries, his face buried deeper into the pillow with each endearing smack.

An errant thought crosses your mind and you can’t help but to dwell on it. If Izuku is already blubbering, how much farther can you take this before he’s crying into the pillow? The idea that you can bring one of the strongest men in the world to tears sets off a string of dynamite in your heart, the fuse triggering something akin to pride in your chest. You feel your whole body swell at the thought and you know that you must make it a reality tonight.

“How many was that?” you ask patronizingly, digging your nails into his ass to hear him squeak.

Your hands are already raw, burning at the feel of slapping his muscled backside repeatedly. Still, you knead your hands into him to elicit a pained whine. He writhes under you, his hands curling around the sheets until they’re beginning to rip under his tight grip.

“I-I dunno,” he blurts, a curt sob breaking his words. “I’m sorry!”

You chuckle and it comes out much darker than you originally intended. You release his ass, the thick of it jiggling as you let go. The pads of your fingers are gentle as you wash your touch over him, appreciating the way the redness of his freshly spanked cheeks brings out the deep color of his freckles, the splotches even more prevalent now that his body has been momentarily abused.

“Oh, you’re gonna be sorry, baby,” you kiss each of his ass cheeks, flicking your tongue out to tease the heated skin, “you better start counting.”

Just as you punctuate your sentence with a sigh, your hands begin to strike him repeatedly. You struggle to keep count, desperately wanting to listen to his moans and whimpers as he gasps, mewling with both pain and pleasure as you lay into his backside. Midoriya is already misty-eyed, the feel of your domineering touch just enough to bring him to a subservient headspace, his spirit wallowing in the pain that your hands are doling out.

You barely have time to stop before he’s blurting out the number that matches the one you’ve counted. You smirk, leaning forward so your nipples scrape against his skin, “Good job, baby.”

The heels of your palms are what is stinging the most, so you can only imagine how his ass feels. You have a momentary relapse in thought, wondering if maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, if maybe you’re going to push him to an edge he can’t come back from.

Although, when too much silence has passed and he is turning to gaze up at you over his shoulder, every inhibition you have flies directly out of the room through the crack in the door. His eyes are blitzed, lust making his pupils swallow the color of his irises, forehead crinkled in desperation as he attempts to form words to beg you back to him.

You rub at the pert skin, brushing your thumbs over the smattering of freckles on the roundest parts of his ass. Deku is whimpering beneath you, calf muscles fully flexed as he rocks back and forth in anticipation of your next slap.

“Such a good little hero,” you murmur, massaging your hands into his glute muscles. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

Izuku whines, toes curling up beside your hips. He huffs but you can’t see his face to notice how fucked-out his eyes have become. You dig your fingernails into the flesh of his ass, and he preens, eyes bulging out of their sockets at the sudden stinging sensation.

You answer him with a resounding smack on his backside, making sure that your fingertips are curved just right, along with your palm, to make it sound much worse than it truly is, praying that you can manipulate his mind into believing that you’ve marked him for longer than a few moments.

The way the freckles on his skin trail from the top of his body to the bottom is nothing short of enticing. It brings about a certain innocence to him, something hidden that only you are allowed to know of. Your eyes can’t stop trying to put together a map of his body, begging to know just where the freckles begin and end. He is littered with them, his body darkening from time spent in the sun.

“P-Please,” his whole body is convulsing in pleasure. You can see his cock throbbing between his thighs and the mattress, his balls weighty with the impending excitement of his release. The bedsheet have a damp spot near the tip of his cock, most likely from his pre dripping at the sudden shakes of his body from your spankings, “I-I want more, Princess. Please!”

You smirk, hand hot from repeated spankings, “What’s your number?”

Deku pants, digging his nose into the mattress as if that might save him from having to answer. His hands are clamped around the sheets, nails threatening to rip into the thread count mercilessly, “I-I dunno, I don’t know!”

Your hand comes down over his ass repeatedly, unrelenting in your ministrations as you mark his backside bright red. You know that there will be little busted blood vessels to mix along with his freckled skin, purple lightning strikes that serve as a reminder to the way you broke down his resolve and conquered his body.

“P-Princess,” he whines, voice cracking in the midst of his sentence as he tries to beg for repentance, “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

You curve your fingernails into his skin, uncaring to the way his body fully tenses, dips and curves of muscle and sinew on full display as he lays completely bare against the mattress. You want to strew yourself across him to feel the ripples of his muscles as he tenses under your touch, to know the reactions of his body as they are happening firsthand. A chill tremors down your spine at the thought of him, all dense and thick beneath you, and how you have complete and utter control over him. You hold his pleasure in your hands, he’s entrusted himself to you in this very vulnerable situation, and the reality of it almost brings tears to your eyes.

Instead you focus your energy into snarling around your teeth, sneering his name like slander, “C’mon, Deku, be a good little bitch and tell me what you think you can handle.”

He is verbally silent, the only thing you can make out from his face smushed into the sheets is mewling whimpers to match the way his body quivers. You teasingly stroke your thumbnail over the blushed skin of his backside, bouncing your touch from freckle-to-freckle as you scrape your nails into him.

Another couple of seconds pass by before you snatch your hand from his ass so you can slap him again when he spurts out an answer, “Th-Thirty!”

“Fifty it is,” you chuff, digging your fingertips into his buttocks in a massaging motion, preparing him for the next round of spankings. He pants, rutting his hips forward into the mattress for some sort of friction against his throbbing erection, balls weighty with his release as they slap between his legs.

You tap his hip, letting him know that you want him to readjust himself. Izuku bends at the waist, seething as the bruised skin of his bottom stretches with the motion. You resituate yourself between his knees, ass directly in front of your face. A gentle kiss is pressed to either of his cheeks, eyelashes daintily brushing over his throbbing flesh, and he jolts his hips back into you until your teeth graze his skin.

“Eager little thing,” you tut your tongue, grabbing him harshly by the hips.

You selfishly want to mark him up, to remind the world that he belongs to you no matter how much of himself he gives away every other moment of his life. When the sun goes down, when the bright sky bleeds into the night, he comes home to you and the both of you fall asleep under the stars, wrapped in one another’s arms.

Izuku’s tongue lolls out of his mouth, sweat dripping down his spine as you press up into him, “Such a slut for me, huh, honey?”

The next time he backs into you, you pinch his ass between your fingers on one side and on the other cheek you bite down hard into his skin. Midoriya bucks forward at the sudden jolt of pain, only worsening the scratches left behind by your canines. He grinds his face into the mattress, pressing the mix of his tears and sweat into the sheets, begging for a cool release from the heat of his body as he searches for it in the mattress. You swear that he sobs into the pillow, begging you for something, but you can’t quite make out all of the syllables.

You line up behind him, your lower abdomen flush with his round, freckled bottom, “You ready, baby?”

“Princess, please,” his voice is hoarse now, all jagged around the edges as he begs you for more, “I-I want you to be rough with me, please? I wan’ you to mark me up.”

On command, your fingernails dig into the flesh at the curves of his shoulders, raking down the length of his back in one elongated swoop. He cries out, throwing his head back so his green curls brush the piques of his shoulders, and he grinds his hips back into you. You can’t help the low growl that claws at your throat as you trail your index finger down over the ghostly sight that your nails have left behind. He seethes through his teeth at the burning sensation lighting his back on fire, but he still does not complain.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you handled, okay?” Your hands find purchase on the curves of his obliques, fingernails burrowing into the taut skin of his abdomen, crescent moon patterns left in the wake of you. “I’m gonna make sure all the other heroes know who you belong to.”

Your name bubbles from his lips, a prayer he’s pushing to the heavens, blessing the stars with his babbling. In the midst of one of his mutterings, you begin your next round of pert spanks to his ass. You give him little reprieve, counting in your head as you go along.

He’s a blubbering mess, all mismatched syllables and grunts and moans tearing his throat apart until he’s crying for you to mark him as yours, to claim him in a way that leaves no question as to who he belongs to. The echoes of please, please, please bounce off every wall, a cacophony of sound making the hair on your neck stand erect.

When you finish, your hands are stinging profusely, but you make sure to soothe your palms over his bottom, the flesh bright red and angry. His freckles look even darker now that his skin has been accented with the beginnings of purple bruises and crimson handprints left behind. You coo, leaning forward to kiss the center of his back, pressing your body into him so you’re flush with every inch of him that you can find, “What do you say, pretty boy?”

When Midoriya turns to look at you over his shoulder, his eyes blissed-out so his pupils swallow his viridescent irises whole, he gargles the words, “thank you,” in a cracked whisper. You nod, trailing a row over kisses down the dip of his spine, nudging your nose over his muscled body, silently telling him to relax.

“You want more?” you ask him quietly, your hands digging into any surface of him that you can find to try and release some of the tension built up from the time spent together. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Please, Princess, please,” he’s blubbering out the words, thick and heavy with the emotion pent-up in his throat, “I just wan’ be good for you, whatever you want.”

You tilt your head, brows furrowing in playful contemplation, “Whatever I want, huh?”

He’s nodding ferociously, his chin knocking into his chest with his enthusiastic actions. You know part of it is to make up for the lack of words that he can’t force through his teeth, so you merely chuckle and give him one final spank to his backside, “Roll over then.”

The speed with which he fumbles into rolling over onto his back is comical. You watch as a flurry of limbs wind together only to come apart again when he’s on his back. Izuku is wincing, the glassiness in his eyes reminiscent of tears and he’s trying his hardest to come across like he’s not in pain, although you see the way that he favors putting more of his weight on his shoulders instead of his ass so he’s bent at an odd angle.

“Whatever you want,” he is gasping the words out, puffs of exaggerated but necessary breath forcing his cheeks to inflate. “I’m yours.”

The words make your whole body puff up, heat starting in your core and creating steam that rises from your esophagus to your brain. It becomes muddled and you’re hazy now, drunk off of the power that he has given you with those five words. You reach forward and slide your thumb against his piqued nipple, licking your lips as you think of what you’re going to do to him not that you have him to use however you please.

“All mine?” you ask, your voice grating against the front of your throat harshly. You hum, “What do you want me to do to you then, baby?”

He’s breathing heavily through his nose now, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath, “I w-want you to use me, please, Princess, want you to use my pathetic cock to make yourself feel good.”

You reach forward and guide his scarred hand towards your cunt, “Touch me.”

Izuku is eager to please, so he’s fumbling forward until his thumb finds your clit, ministrations errant and disastrous. It’s adorable, really, the enthusiasm with which he seeks you out only doing further service to your ego. You feel your head grow dizzier as your core turns with tumultuous heat. You know that you do not want to drag this out too far as you already can feel the twitch of an impending crest of pleasure building from within you.

His thick finger slides up into your heated core and it takes all of your self-restraint to keep your moans between your teeth, holding the sounds captive like they might tell all of your secrets if you let them loose. You bite your lip, sucking the skin into the bite of your teeth, tilting your head back so you can close your eyes and enjoy the pleasure as it comes.

“Maybe if you touch me just right, I’ll let you feel my pussy on your cock, huh?” You have to face him, have to see his reaction, “How does that sound?”

Midoriya is bobbing his head, agreeing to whatever words you’re speaking, he can’t quite make out any one syllable with the way his brain is drowning with the sight of you straddling him. He’s not sure what it is about you, but he absolutely adores the idea of you holding your own against him, wrapping your body around him and denying him of whatever control he normally possesses.

And maybe that is what gets you wet too, because you know that he could fling you off of him with a simple flick of his wrist, and yet here he is, letting you demolish every last shred of his self-respect.

You can’t help it, with the way he’s already beginning to drool and the sight of his eyes drinking in your semi-naked body, you have to feel the soft heat of his mouth around your fingers. It is too quick, the way you jolt forward and press the pads of your digits against his soft mouth. He moans, realizing just what you’re trying to do because he’s done it countless times himself, and opens his mouth wide.

Your fingers slip inside the seeping heat of his tongue and cheeks, the muscle lapping at your digits until they’re soaked and knuckle deep. You lean down so you are but inches from his face, the squelching sounds that your pussy and his mouth make together doing little to still the erection pressed against your ass from behind and the absolute waterfall between your thighs.

Every muscle in your body is screaming at you to sink down on top of his twitching cock and let him have his way with you, to rock yourself along his length until you’re both finding that beautiful high together. But you know that if you wait, if you drag this out and force him to bend to your will, then it will bring you both to your knees.

“So pretty with my fingers in your mouth, Izu,” you murmur, kissing the corner of his mouth.

He attempts feebly to kiss you, turning his head, but your fingers catch on the corners of his lips and stretch the pink skin until it is pale. Your eyes flicker toward the bow of his mouth where a thin, white scar resides. You remember seeing this one when you first kissed him, and the memory of it makes you nostalgic, the years you’ve spent together built up much like his scars.

You lick a warm stripe up the column of his neck, feeling the muscles and veins throb underneath your ministrations. The heat of your breath combined with the slick of your spit makes Deku’s hips jut upward, his balls slapping loudly against your ass as he ruts into you painfully.

“Did I say you could move?” You are leant back now, your fingers still in his mouth but otherwise you are parted from him. Deku’s face pales, eyes widening in fear as he shakes his head, apologies tumbling in tandem with his spit from his lips, drool seeping down his chin until it is shiny.

The heel of your palm comes underneath his chin, so you have your hand wrapped around the lower part of his mouth, controlling his head with the simple turn of your wrist. You tilt his head upward so he can no longer see you, and pick up your hips to reposition yourself so you are hovering above him, just enough so you can start to tease the head of his cock against your slick slit.

He’s whimpering, “Please, Princess. I wanna touch you so bad, please, I wanna make you feel good.”

You let him beg for you, pumping your hand up and down his cock while you brush the angry red head over the gathering silver slick at your entrance.  You chuckle as his hips shuffle in the slightest, his discomfort obvious as he is practically vibrating with the desire to take over.

“What is it, baby? Eager?” You sink yourself down far enough to take the head of his cock within your walls, clamping down hard enough to make him whine. “I can’t wait to fuck myself on this pathetic little cock, Izu. I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll have to call in sick tomorrow.”

Another round of blathering drivel is boasted into the air, his words muffled by your fingers, but he still forces them out, nonetheless. His tongue continues to curl around your knuckles and lavish the pads of your digits, sucking on them in between heaving breaths. You let a small moan shake your throat, rolling your hips forward to take another bit of his dick but not all of it, not yet. The enjoyment you’re getting from his stuttering whimpers and moans only heightening your senses and arousal.

“Princess, please, I-I think I’m gonna-” An aborted rut of his hips dies when you rake your nails down the entirety of his chest. Your fingers catch on the rigid edges of some of his scars, but otherwise you turn lines of his tanned flesh red from your scratching.

Izuku whimpers, his body arching upward as he tries to take it all in stride. In doing so, he sheathes his cock completely within you, the base of his shaft now flush with your lips. You cry out at the sudden stretch, throwing your head back in pleasure as a wave of white-hot arousal makes your thighs glossy with a new wash of slick.

When you come to, you lean forward to place a palm on either side of his head, holding yourself up so you are loitering over him like a shadow, praying that you are as every bit as menacing as you’re attempting to be. You grit your teeth and roll your hips several times, unbending to even his hands on your body, relentlessly fucking his cock until he’s screaming for you to stop.

“C’mon, little hero, I thought you’d be better than this,” you take his earlobe between your teeth and tug, “I thought you’d have more will power. You’ll never be number one if you can’t even last this long beneath me.”

Izuku shakes his head, “I-I can, I can do it, I-I promise. Please, just let-”

“I don’t think you understand,” your voice is low, menacing as you nudge your nose against the bridge of his face, nuzzling the freckled skin. The intimate act is far more tender than your tone, and it gives Izuku chills that you can display such dual sides of yourself simultaneously. “I’m not letting you do anything.”

His eyes go wide as he realizes that there is nothing that he can do to change your mind, at least not in this setting. Deku’s hands still on your hips, his thumbs rubbing circular motions into your skin in a way that seems to be grounding him as much as it is stimulating you. You press a chaste kiss to his mouth before beginning to snap your hips upward and then back down onto his cock, clamping your walls around him when you feel the head of him press into that spongy spot hidden all the way in the back of your core.

You kiss all over his neck, finding clumps of freckles and stranded singular ones, lavishing the same amount of affection over each of them. Your mouth finds scars, both tiny, hairline fractures in the marble of his skin, as well as large, patchy ones that mar large splotches of his skin.

Even in these moments when you are the one doling out commands, you still find ways to appreciate his body. Your touch roams along the dips and contours of his torso, the rough ridges of your fingerprints searching for the matching ragged lines on his skin. You sigh into his throat and he slips a hand between your bodies to rub at your clit, begging for you to come undone around his cock, praying that you’ll let him please you.

One of your hands wraps around his throat until you hear him choke, and then you speed up the pace of your hips until he’s begging through wheezes for you to relent. You lean back and he hikes up his legs so you can rest against his thighs, your body on full display in front of him. His eyes do not know where to land and neither do yours as you map out the various textures and colors of his skin – from the pale lightning strikes of his scars to the darker scattered splotches of freckles.

Izuku Midoriya is a vessel for the travesties of the world.

But you will spend the rest of your life trying to make up for its mistakes.

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

One day it slips.

You don’t think much of it, because in the heat of the moment, with him buried at the hilt and you crying for release, the words don’t stick out very starkly against the other filth spewing from either of your mouths.

“Gonna stuff that pretty pussy full of my come, baby,” he bites your earlobe as he ruts into you mercilessly, “You’re gonna be so round and full of me.”

At the time, you thought he meant that you would be full of his cock and come, but after he starts to show particular attention to your stomach during sex, you wonder if there’s something else going on.

When he has you beneath him the next time, you drag his palm to your belly and look him in the eyes, “I want you.”

His freckles burn beneath his blush, much starker against his tanned skin thanks to the flush of warmth. Izuku tilts his head, the dark curls framing his forehead bobbing with the motion, “You have me, baby.”

You shake your head and whine at the lack of contact once he’s stilled. You bite your lip and push the heel of his palm into the gentle swell of your belly beneath your navel. He swallows, gulping so hard that his throat bobs. You lick your lips and take a short breath as he shifts above you, his knees digging into the mattress on either side of your body.

“I want you to come in me,” you murmur, tugging him downward with the gentle grip of your hand on his neck. You kiss him square on the mouth and his fingers reach to find your folds, middle and index finger parting you so they can slip inside to curl against your heat. You whine, the sound amplified as his tongue searches your teeth, “P-Please, Izu.”

Midoriya’s fingers thrust forward in you so intensely that he can feel his fingertips bulging your belly with the palm that’s pressed against your navel. His eyes widen at the sensation and it only spurs him into kissing you more fervently, teeth and tongue clashing as he tries to overwhelm every sense you possess.

You protest as he pulls his fingers from you, your eyes screwed shut as you whine. He tuts his tongue against his teeth, nudging his nose along the curve of your jaw as he places biting kisses along the bone, “Hush. Do you really think I won’t give you what you need?”

The authoritative tone in his voice brings you to silence, eyelids fluttering open so you can look him in the eyes as he leans back to balance himself on his thick thighs. Your touch is pulled from him as he goes further away, your fingers aching in midair for something to ground yourself with. Otherwise you just feel like you’re going to float away, your mind hazy with the effervescent bubbles of euphoria that travel up from your throat.

Before you have another moment to keen at the loss of his heat, he’s piercing your pussy with the head of his cock, butterflying your lips wide open so he can rut up into you with ease. The combination of his bubbling pre-come and your already slick arousal dripping from your cunt make the slam of his hips easier to take, easier to beg for.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” Izuku coos in your ear, dropping his head to your shoulder to suck on the skin of your collarbone.

The jut of his cockhead into your core makes it difficult to think, let alone form fully coherent sentences. Izuku seems to relish in this, though, because he does not slow the drag of his cock or the flow of his words. He continues to goad you into begging for his release, for what you truly want, and it’s maddening. Your eyes cross beneath your lids at the overstimulation of it all until you’re blurting out the first thing on your mind.

“I wan’ you to breed me, Daddy!”

Izuku falters for a moment at the brashness of your words, but you barely have time to feel bashful before he’s rolling his hips again, growling near your ear with a ferocity you’ve never felt from him before.

“That’s my good girl,” he mutters while trailing his lips down to your breast. He lavishes your nipple with the rough pad of his tongue, lapping over the skin carefully so you’re begging him for more. “How am I supposed to breed you, honey? Tell me.”

The patronizing tone of his voice tells you that he knows exactly what you want, but he would rather hear the request coming in the form of panting words and wanton moans from your lips. You sniffle, your eyes watering at the bruising pace he’s setting. His hands drift down the tops of your thighs, thumbs brushing against the innermost part where your skin is the most sensitive. Your cunt clamps down around him, fluttering at the ghostly feel of his tantalizing touch.

“P-Please,” you whimper, unable to think of something to say to fill the void. You bite your lip as his mouth works at your chest, tonguing your nipple before biting at the mound of skin to drive a yelp from your lips. “I want you to c-come in me, Daddy! I want you to stuff me full o-of your come, please!”

He pouts around your nipple, leaving the small space he’s just sucked a hickey into in favor of your pert bud, “I already come in you, baby girl, what do you really want me to do?”

You bite your lip and fist the sheets at your sides when you feel frustration and embarrassment wash over you. Izuku nudges his nose along the swell of your chest before leaning up to kiss your chin, hovering like a menacing shadow. His smile does little to quell the bubbling intensity in your belly.

“You can do it, sweetheart,” he’s gentler now, breaking his more dominating side so he can reassure you, “I know you can. Just tell me what you want.”

The shining in his irises makes your knees weak but bolsters your spine to force you into uttering the next words, no matter how uncomfortable they might sit in your belly. You take a breath and look up into his eyes, “I want you to put a baby in me, Izu.”

“Good girl,” he manages to muster out the words with restraining the growl that aches at the back of his throat.

His hips cant forward, fingertips now just under your knees. Your breath comes in shaking pants, your chest shuddering under your confession. Izuku kisses your cheek and then your nose, positioning his hands while he has you distracted. His mouth ascends down upon your own as his fingers dip into the supple skin and muscle of your thighs, bruising the underside with the ghost of his fingerprints as he pushes your knees back until they’re almost touching your chest or the mattress.

You gulp in pain as his cock stretches you out in a whole new way with your body flayed out like this. You look like a butterfly, your wings spread so he can smother you with his movements. Deku licks at the seam of your lips and you gasp, your mouth parting so he can delve his tongue inside. Your whole body shakes at the intensity of his thrusts, your irises swallowed whole by your pupils as they dilate at the feel of your cunt trying and failing to clamp around his cock to keep him still so you can adjust.

“Say it again,” Deku encourages you, his voice breathless as he ruts you into the mattress.

Your shoulders and the curve of your ass are pressed so deep into the cushion that you swear you might fall through to the floor. You curl your toes and try to angle your hips forward to no avail. He has you fully enraptured in the way he wants, his body practically controlling the movements you’re allowed to make with how he’s pressed and holding onto every part of you.

“I-I want you to put a baby in me, Izuku,” you whisper, your voice hoarse.

A pert slap lands on the outside of your thigh and you whimper at the thought you’ve done something wrong. Your eyes water and you look up at him, emerald irises glowering down at you with a mix of primal need and control.

His voice is nothing short of a growl when he commands, “Who am I?”

Your eyes go wide, forehead creasing at the realization of your slip up. You can’t form the words fast enough, scrambling within your subservient brain to find the right phrase. You bite your lip as his hips still upon your silence, practically begging him with your body to keep going.

The echo of another smacking of his palm against your leg resounds in the room, sending a shudder down your spine. A new wave of arousal coats his cock from where he’s buried within you. He smirks, “Such a sloppy pussy, baby girl. You’re so filthy, getting off on me smacking you around.”

He leans close into you, removing one hand from your thigh to frame your face, his thumb dug into the soft flesh beneath your chin so he can force you to look into his eyes. “Now, I’ll say it again, who am I?”

You gulp, your lower lip trembling at the sight of him, and your voice cracks when you speak, “D-Daddy, I-I’m sorry.”

Izuku kisses your bottom lip before showing the same affection to the top. His gentle ministrations are rather contrasting to the way your hips sting with the memory of his spankings. You blink slowly, taking him in from this close angle.

He’s so pretty, you know this even though your mind is hazy with subservient want. His freckles and scars stand out so pertly against his skin, showing you a roadmap to someplace you know you’ll get to someday. You reach up to frame his face with one hand, thumb brushing over the speckled spots along the bridge of his nose and cheek, marveling at the sight of his beauty.

Deku turns his face to kiss your wrist, “What’re you thinking?”

“You’re pretty,” you blurt, voice almost childish in the way you say it with such wonder.

The phrase stills his nose against your palm, his breath hot as it rolls down your wrist and forearm. You feel your pulse beat harshly within your veins at the change in temperature, emotion swelling in your throat until your neck bobs as you try to swallow it.

It’s not the stereotypical compliment that he might receive, however that does not change its weight. Izuku takes a short breath before he begins to kiss down the length of your arm, nuzzling your elbow once he’s pressed there. He looks up into your eyes and the absolute adoration that is settled into your irises, bejeweling them until he is wondering if they might actually be gems, gives him the effervescent sensation all over again.

Pretty.

The word plays on loop in his mind, until he has dissected all six letters of it down to their very essence. The combination of your tone and expression as you admit what’s truly on your mind causes his heart to tear into his rib cage with the speed at which it beats. He breathes in short, heaving gasps, the warmth of his breath spilling over your chest, nipples pebbling beneath him.

If you were to try and pin down his appearance, you might say it were bashful. You have seen several sides to Izuku, but the bright red tinge on his cheeks, creeping up his neck until his ears are burnt with the color, makes him seem much younger, much more innocent. It’s hardly innocent, the way that he’s bludgeoning your cunt with his cock, but you take this moment to remove yourself from that fact entirely, instead focusing on the wobble of his chin and the mist in his eyes.

In addition to the shyness, you also see doubt, conflict.

You push your fingers into the hair behind his ear, beckoning him closer so you can appreciate him closer. Your opposite hand presses against his cheek, the scar that runs along his jaw ragged under your touch. Midoriya’s lips part, the tip of his tongue hidden just behind his teeth.

“Pretty,” he echoes the word, unintentionally, you believe, by the way his face screws up once he realizes he’s said it aloud. Midoriya reels back from you, sitting back on his thighs, the tip of his cock twitching from within your core.

Your face goes bright red at the admission, your hand falling away from his face in shame. You gulp, readying yourself for another smack to your leg in admonishment at your confession. You wince, hiding yourself as best you can with him looking down at you in such an intimidating way by turning your face into the pillow, closing your eyes.

The wait feels like forever, as if he’s going to edge you with anticipation until you’ve gone blue in the face from holding your own breath. He surprises you with a gentle laugh parting his lips, screwing his eyes shut.

You take a chance and open your eyes, blinking slowly so you aren’t shocked at the expression on his face if it contrasts the giggle that sets off another round of arousal between your thighs. You lick your lips and bare your soul when you ask, “Y-You’re laughing?”

“You’re so cute, baby,” Izuku kisses your nose, his grip resetting to your thigh.

The bruising hold he has on you reminds you that even though he might come across as twinkling eyes and a mop of curls, he is the strongest hero alive, and he could crush you like a bug if he truly desired.

He tilts his head, “I think you’re pretty too.”

“Y-You’re not mad?”

Izuku furrows his brow and leans back so he can study your face in its entirety, “No, Princess, I’m not mad. Why would I be mad?”

“I-I just ruined the mood by calling you pretty,” you have the urge to ask him to put his fingers in your mouth just to get you to be quiet. Anything to staunch the flow of these ­superfluous words that won’t stop tumbling from your lips.

His thumb brushes along the curve of your jaw until his fingertip is pressuring your lip to stay open so he can study your teeth and gums, “Nah, you didn’t ruin the mood. Answer me this – who do you belong to?”

Instantly your thighs try to clamp together, knees wobbling at the statement and the firmness in his tone when he says it. You swallow, eyes blown wide, your tongue suddenly becoming very heavy in your own mouth. You want to whine, to cant forward and take as much of him as you can but he has you held still with a palm in the center of your chest, pinning you to the mattress as he waits for his answer.

Your hand covers his own, fingers slipping between his palm and knuckles so you can anchor yourself to him, even in this moment. Your middle and index fingers swipe back and forth over the back of his hand, finding the familiar triangular scars and tracing over them with purpose. They ground you, somehow, when your mind starts to flutter off into this subservient space and you can’t feel anything from your knees down.

“Y-You,” you manage to stutter, thighs wobbling with the stress of pinning him between your knees. Your eyelids prick with tears from the embarrassment you felt earlier, and Izuku tuts his tongue against his teeth, “Why’re you crying, pretty girl?”

You shake your head and he kneels forward to kiss you on the lips, chastely, “Or should I give you something to cry about?”

Before you can answer, he simultaneously lands a harsh slap to the inside of your thigh with one hand while pinning your neck to the pillow with the other, applying enough pressure that you wheeze. Izuku smirks down at you, watching as tears well up in your eyes and cause them to look like glassy marbles. He trails his fingertip along the inside of your thigh, your entire body quivering with the anticipation of when he will strike next.

His cock twitches within you and the movement makes your muscles jolt. Your hand smacks against his thigh as you dig your fingertips into the dense sinew. You breathe in heavily, your chest expanding, “Daddy, please.”

Izuku begins to rock back and forth slowly, dragging his cock salaciously along your inner walls, the veins and curves of his cock making your cunt flutter around his girth. You whine at the slow pace, your palms studying his skin as a distraction to keep your dirty mouth satiated. You want to beg him to go faster, to give you more friction, something, but you know better than to ask him for anything in this moment.

“If I’m Daddy,” he muses in your ear, his breath a hot wave of desire as it rolls down your neck to splay out at your shoulder, “then it’s only fair that we give you a name too, right, Princess?”

The suggestion he’s making sends a shiver down your spine and you clamp down on his cock as he slips all the way into you, the base of him flush with your lips. You grapple onto him for fear that he might pull out of you again, but you want him to be fully sheathed in you when he snarls out his next words.

In digging your nails into his skin, you find a new scar on his shoulder that you hadn’t noticed before. It is thin, just slight enough that it slipped from your radar. It is a single ridge of skin running from the back of his shoulder to his collarbone, streaking his skin with a pink color in contrast to his normally tan color. Your middle and index fingers focus on it, mapping out each bump like your life depends on it.

As his body tilts forward, your eyes catch along a patch of intense freckles at the tops of his shoulders, where the sun shines most concentrated. Your exhale, eyelids fluttering as you feel his weight press down into you the closer he comes. The palm of your hand travels to this smattering of freckles, digging into his muscles in a massaging way as you force your touch downward. Izuku’s breath hitches as you circle the pad of your middle finger tenderly over the flesh, eyelids snapping open so he can look down at you in something akin to shock.

He melts into your touch when your ankle digs into the dimples at the base of his back, yet another scar providing friction against your skin. You whimper as his hips buck forward on instinct alone, the pressure of your body pulling him forward.

Midoriya nudges his nose sweetly along the column of your throat, open-mouthed kisses placed against your main vein that leads him to your heart. He breathes slowly over your chest, nipping at the skin closest to your nipple, but far enough away that he won’t hurt you if he bites down too hard.

“Mm,” he hums as he dips his head further, curling his spine so he can kiss the top of your belly, above your navel. His palm pushes into the supple skin, thumb drifting over where your uterus sits beneath your skin, “I can’t wait to fuck you ‘till you’re full of me, Princess. Isn’t that what you want?”

You’re begging him silently with ferocious nods, dipping the pads of your fingers into his shoulder blades to pull him closer once more so he can rut into you with his strong hips. You feel the head of his cock brush against you from the inside, and that along with the added pressure of his palm pushing into you, makes you keen loudly, a whine rippling through your lungs.

At that sound, Izuku loses any and all control he might have had on his body before, one of his hands now holding your thigh up so he can dominate you from above, your ass not even flat against the mattress anymore. It’s a good reprieve from the suffocating heat beneath your back, but the only thing you can truly focus on is the way that his hips drive into you in midair, his knees bolstering him forward to fuck into you relentlessly.

“You’ll be so fuckin’ pretty with my come dripping out of this sloppy pussy,” Izuku’s voice is slurred with pleasure, his eyes closed as he ruts into you from above. You whine, your chin ducked into your chest at this angle, but it doesn’t matter that it’s slightly uncomfortable; the only thing you can pay attention to is the way he fills you up, stretching your pussy with his thick cock.

Pulling almost all the way out only to slam into you again makes your cunt clench when he’s fully sheathed to try and keep him captive. He’s too strong, though, and he pulls away easily, the added tension only providing the both of you with further pleasure. You both whine, Izuku’s head dropping so you can no longer see his eyes, forehead covered completely by dark curls caked with sweat and sticking to his skin.

Deku licks his lips and you watch as he tilts his head to gaze down at you, the primal need to see you full giving his eyes a deeper color, a green so dark it’s almost black. The sight of him so overcome with arousal makes your stomach turn, a fresh wave of heat coating your inner walls and slipping down his cock in the form of silvery slick.

He pants, his jaw hung open, “You want me to fill you up? Come in you over and over until you can’t take it anymore, until your pretty belly is bulging with my come?”

You don’t have the chance to respond when he bottoms out within you, stretching you out even further as his cock spasms with desire. It’s like he’s growing within you even more so now that he’s imagining your tummy swollen from his come. Your jaw hangs open even as you throw your head back, your hands flying to the comforter to snag what you can beneath your fingernails.

Izuku does not waste the sight of your neck, bare and open, practically begging for him to claim as his canvas. With his next stroke he is careening forward to latch his tongue and teeth onto the sensitive skin, your jugular pulsing beneath his mouth. Your hand flies upward to tug at the wild curls near the back of his scalp, your thighs held in place by his hips as he continues into you at a steady pace.

“I can’t wait to put a baby in you, Princess,” Izuku is panting in your ear now, the lewd sounds of his hips bucking into yours the only other sound you can make out. Your shoulders shudder underneath his weight but he is holding you like an anchor, so you know that you are safe in his embrace. You turn your head, so your cheek is pressing into his, leeching the heat from his skin until your own flesh is burning.

“Fuck,” Deku laps at your throat aimlessly, as if he can’t quite get where he wants, but he doesn’t know what else to do, “Gonna fill you up every time I get the chance, breed you until you’re begging for me to stop. Pump that pretty pussy full of my come until you can’t walk straight.”

Your cunt spasms around his cock and he knows that means you’re close to coming. He’s pushed off his own release in favor of coming in tandem with you, so he starts to pump into you faster, drifting a hand down to your clit to try and stimulate you closer to the precipice of pleasure. You’re whining, nails dragging against his biceps unforgivingly, “Daddy, c’mon, I want you to come in me. Please, won’t you come in me? Fuck me full of your come, please!”

The entirety of your mouth is sandpaper dry with your insistent begging. You lick your lips at the feel of his cock spasming within your core, the tip of him brushing against your cervix in a bruising manner. “I-I wanna make you a Daddy for real, please, won’t you put a baby in me?”

A feral growl parts his lips at your request, and your body clenches from head to toe at the sound. You can’t breathe, your entire being is suffocated by the essence of him – body, mind, soul. He is everything and it covers you like a hot blanket, searing into your skin until you’re branded for him.

“You want this load?” he asks breathlessly. “Want me to breed you up good?”

He is barely able to look at you when you whimper out your response. Goosebumps cover the expanse of his body as he thinks about what you’d look like, swollen with the imminent promise of his baby growing in you. Something digs into him at the base of his spine, something that makes him ache with the need to see you waddling around, unable to see your ankles as you rest your palm on the top of your tummy. Izuku squeezes his eyes shut so he can listen to your wanton desperation, sweat making the two of you stick together at every juncture.

Deku grunts one last time before all his resolve floods from his body, “Here you go, Princess, don’t waste it.”

The angle he has your body in, folded up like a pretzel, would usually make it hard for you to waste any of it, but the sheer amount of come being pumped into you makes you nervous. You feel the familiar seeping of his seed from your cunt and you reach down to try and sop it up, but Izuku beats you to it. He uses his thumb to collect the milky fluid, rubbing it over your clit to use as lubricant as his dick continues to pump the rest of his load into your abused hole.

“Good girl,” he whispers absentmindedly as he fucks you through his aftershocks, the pad of his thumb driving you crazy as you squirm beneath him. Izuku can tell by the sheer force with which you’re clamped down on him that you’re chasing your own high, your eyes squinted closed so you can focus on orgasming until you’ve coated his cock with your arousal.

Izuku fights through the bliss that’s clouding his mind to lean down and kiss over your face, “C’mon, Princess, come for me.”

When your eyes split open, the first thing you notice is the scar that cuts from his hairline down over his eyebrow, separating the tail of his brow from the base. You reach up to brush your fingertip over it, your heels dug into the curve of his ass to bring yourself closer to him, if that were at all possible. Your mouth hangs open as your thumb maps out the scar, ragged flesh the very opposite of the remaining smooth plane of his body.

“I love you,” you whisper, silent silver tears leaking from your eyes as the combination of all of your senses being stimulated pushes you over the crest, drowning you in the waves of pleasure he creates by rocking into you.

It has taken years for Izuku to understand that you paying attention to the jagged parts of his body does not mean that you would not love him if he were any less broken.

Your vision passes over each inch of his body, taking inventory of the markings on his body – freckles, blemishes, scars – as if they might have changed since the last time you looked. Your hands roam over his shoulders, finding the pale scars and dipping your fingertips against them to feel the ridges against the rough pad of your digits.

Midoriya melds his mouth against yours, lost in the taste of you as his cock spasms within your tight heat. Your entire bodies are coated in a mixture of tears and sweat and slick, but you don’t care as he lowers himself down on top of you until you’re flush with one another from shoulder to ankle.

His tongue is mapping the curvatures of your teeth when he responds in kind, “I love you, too.”

He slows once he realizes you’ve both been milked of whatever else you might have left to give. Your body is gently placed back down on the bed, hot sweat sticking to the cooled sheets. Izuku kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, lavishing each inch with the utmost affection, it could make you cry.

Your hands work through his hair, curls falling silkily between your knuckles. You lean forward and kiss the spot on his forehead where his brows are furrowed. At the feel of your affections, his expression softens and the creases on his skin soften into nothing but fine lines. Izuku smiles up at you, nuzzling your cheek, “You did so good, baby, you’re always such a good girl for me.”

“Mhm, you make it easy,” you croon into the shell of his ear as he tilts himself forward, still buried in you even as his cock goes soft. You tilt your head, curling a finger around a lock of his hair, “W-Were you serious?”

Izuku catches a glint of the diamond on your left hand, a proud grin bringing out his dimples, “You’ll know in, what, four weeks?”

The whole thing is too exciting, and you know that even though you’re still on contraceptives, it could happen. He doesn’t move to correct himself, instead waiting on your answer.

“F-Four weeks,” you nod, your tongue sitting heavy and dry in between your teeth.

Midoriya catches your hesitation, “We won’t change anything, except how many times a day I bury my cock into that pretty little pussy of yours. We’ll see if I can beat out the statistics on your medication.”

You know he’s talking about the one-in-whatever chance that your birth control doesn’t work, but the way he says it drags shivers up your spine. You curl both hands into his hair and swallow the thick emotion pent up in your throat, “You meant what you said?”

“Four weeks,” he echoes as if it should be an answer. Izuku knows better than to have a permanent conversation with you when your eyes are still glassy like this, your mind still submerged in that headspace he puts you in when the two of you fuck this way, rough and merciless. All he can do now is remember to talk to you about this once you’re both calm and rational.

Your eyes fill with a fresh set of tears and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to the base of your throat, “I’m gonna fill you up with so much come, baby. We might have to get you a plug.”

You tighten every orifice of your body, fingers dug deeper into the muscle of his shoulders. Your thumb catches on the curve of one of his particularly deep scars, slicing into him like veins on a marble slab. In your heightened state, it’s easy to feel like you’re floating in midair and might never come down, but the tactile reminder of his body beneath your fingertips gives you that anchor that you need to keep yourself from drifting too far.

Methodically, you drift the pads of your digits back and forth, a melody playing in your head that you play out against his body. The rigidity of his form, strong and barring as he loiters over you, only adds to the calm that you feel wash over your frame, settling into your bones like stardust. You feel lightheaded, but in a giddy way, the warmth of Midoriya’s body just as soothing as the patterns you’re marking into his body.

Two tears drip over the edges of your eyes and you look up at him, bringing a thumb up to brush his hair out of his eyes, “I-I wanna make you a Daddy. For real.”

You think back to the day you first met – how he stole your heart with one simple look. He has always been it for you, that you now realize. From the first syllable to now, he has reigned you in, held you beneath his thumb in such a captivating way that you don’t ever want to escape.

You want to give back to him what the world never could – a little hero of his own.

It’s a blank slate, a place to start anew. Something that the burdens of Izuku’s past can never bury under layers of scar tissue and regret. The giddiness that makes your heartbeat in a frenzy only gives you more confidence to reach forward and wrap yourself around him like an animal begging for comfort. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, “You deserve this, Izu, you deserve to be happy.”

“Hey,” he calls down to you, upturning your face with the gentle pressure of his thumb underneath your chin, “I am happy, here with you.”

Your face grows hot at his confession, and you wonder if you misconstrued your words. You swallow, rolling your hips upward to reconnect your bodies at the waist, trying to convey that you can give him so much more, that you’re offering up your body to be a martyr. Your eyes water as you link your hands around his neck, thumbing at the crest of his undercut.

“Please,” you whisper, voice broken but beautiful as your single syllable speaks volumes even in the quiet of your shared bedroom.

There is a growl that erupts in his throat and he lunges forward, sucking and licking at your neck. You whimper, falling slack in his touch as you try to keep yourself anchored to him with biting, blunt fingernails. Your jaw hangs open just enough that he can see the pink of your tongue if he leans far enough back.

As Deku reclaims your mouth in his own, the primal thing burning deep in his belly spurring his cock to go for round two, he can’t help but think to himself that he’s going to make you a momma, no matter how hard he has to try, or how long it takes.

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

“Why are you so enamored by them?”

You still your hand over his bare chest, your index finger tracing the ridge of one of his biggest scars – a rippling cut straight through his pectoral, the tip of it disappearing in the curve of his muscles as they meet in the middle.

When you don’t answer, Izuku swallows the lump in his throat and sits up a little straighter, leaning his shoulders back against the headboard. He looks down his nose at you, shallow breaths making his chest inflate quickly, “I guess I just don’t understand what could be so fascinating about them. Why do you like to touch them all the time?”

You turn so you are strewn across his abdomen, your chin rested in the seam of his pectorals as you look up at him, “I guess they make me feel things.”

“F-Feel things?” Izuku’s face scrunches up in confusion, the wrinkles of his nose making you smile.

Tenderly, you brush your thumb over the creases of his forehead until he relaxes, and then you start mapping out the scarred lines on his face and taking inventory of his freckled cheeks. You sigh, chewing on your lower lip, “It depends on what’s going on, but when I look at you, I feel any plethora of things – sadness, joy, horniness…”

“My scars make you horny?”

You let out a laugh and drop your forehead down and bury it in his chest to hide the blush on your cheeks. Your palm falls from his face to his collarbone, gripping his shoulder as best you can. Midoriya joins you in laughter, tucking his nose into the crown of your head so he can plant kisses into your hair. He is always so soft and kind with you, especially in these moments after you’ve been conjoined by the hips for hours on end, your heart beating in time with his as you lay pressed flush against one another. There are moments when you are a cage of limbs and you do not know where he ends and you begin, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Seeing you all roughed up just does something to me, I dunno!” You tilt your head back so you can look him in the eye, “I like knowing that you can handle yourself, and each scar has a story and we’ve been together for years and I still don’t think I’ve heard them all.”

It looks like there is something on his mind, with the way his face tenses up as soon as you stop laughing together. You rub your ankle against his calf and force him to look you in the eyes with a gentle nudging of your knuckle against his jawline, “Hey, what’re you thinking?”

Izuku is not normally speechless or lacking in things to say. In fact, more often than not, you have to gently place your hand on his shoulder to remind him that everyone can hear his loud mutterings, or that sometimes there are more appropriate times to speak your mind. This time, his tongue lolls around within his cheeks as he tries to come up with the right thing to say.  The pattering of your heart grows faster the longer he is silenced, your pulse thudding like thunder in your ears as you anticipate what could possibly be plaguing his mind at a time like this.

Your thumb brushes against a scar near his ear and he circles his fingers around your wrist, “Would you still love me if I didn’t have them? If my skin was perfect, like Kacchan or Todoroki?”

“First of all, Todoroki has a big ass scar on his face, so jot that down,” you tease, pushing yourself up to kiss him square on the lips. You pull away from him but not entirely, still brushing your nose along the bridge of his cheeks, “And Bakugou has a stupid quirk that gives him great skin, so he’s an awful example.”

Midoriya rolls his eyes and shoves your hand away from his face, sitting up even further so you fall away from him, curling yourself into the sheets. His countenance looks overly contemplative, and it’s beginning to worry you. You sit up in the bed, grabbing his shirt off the nightstand to cover yourself with, tossing it over your head with ease. The fabric pools at your waist but it smells intoxicating, just like him, his warmth from earlier in the night somehow still sticking to the fabric to provide you comfort.

“You know what I mean,” he grits his teeth, unable to look at you as he poses the question, “I-I just…I wonder if you love them more than you love me, sometimes, is all.”

It does not take long for you to redirect his attention back to you, turning his face with a rough yank of your wrist. You look him in the eyes, and he is but a broken little boy in this moment, begging for you to piece him back together.

The thought that he is nothing more than patchwork put back together by the scars on his body makes you feel hollow inside. How can a man who has given up so much feel like so small in a moment of pure reflection? Does he not see all the good he brings to the world, and yet how little it ever dares to give back to him?

“Izuku Midoriya,” your voice is stern, and you watch as he bolsters his spine as if he were talking to a Pro Hero, “I would love you if your whole body was covered in scars or if you had perfect skin. Why would you say something like that?”

Before he can give you some long-winded answer, you throw a leg across his lap so you’re straddling him and he has nowhere to run to, nowhere to divert his attention. Your palms are on his face, cupping his cheeks and making sure to look him dead in the eyes as you give him a dose of the truth. Still, you fear your words may not be enough to satiate his wounded pride, his blistered ego.

“When I look at you, I see how much the universe has stolen from you, how much of your body the world has taken, and how everyone else just takes you for granted.” Your voice grows heavier with each word, the threat of tears sitting in your eyelids, making your face warm. “I see a man who, time and time again, gives everything up to save the world, and all it does in return is take.”

You intake a short breath, trying to calm yourself because this is his moment to ache until his heart feels like it might burst out of his chest. Now it is your job to soothe his burning soul with the salve of your reassurance, mending his inner turmoil with a metaphoric touch that you pray can seep into the cracks of his resolve until he’s full once more.

Brushing his hair away from his face, you lean in closer so you can speak softly, “You once called them ugly. I think that every single scar is a reminder of something that happened in the past. I love to hear your stories of how you got them, each heroic act displayed on your body like a little lightning bolt of truth.”

A sigh parts your lips and you drop your gaze to his chest, finding the familiar ridges of flayed skin easily. You lick your lip and trace your thumb over a few of them, relishing in the quiet moments before you have to speak again.

“I don’t love your scars, I love you.” You press your palms flat to his chest so you can cover the expanse of his pectorals beneath your hands, the heel of your palm against the swell of his chest, “I would ask you for all of your stories even if I never touched a single scar, even if I never saw one. I’d ask you because I want to know you.”

Your hands travel north towards his neck, delicately roaming over the thin skin of his throat before winding into the hair at the back of his head, “I’m so fascinated by them because I want you to know that I don’t think any less of you for them, that I don’t believe you to be weak just because you’re marked by your experiences. If anything, I think it’s beautiful, that you’ve been given this burden like Atlas, to carry around the weight of each on one your shoulders.

“But even though it’s beautiful, that does not mean that it’s right,” your voice turns cold, hard and jagged as you speak through your teeth, “How much more can you be expected to give? Does the universe not see what it’s done to you? What it’s asking of you to continue doing? I just can’t imag-oh.”

His mouth is on yours in an instant, his hands traveling up your spine beneath your shirt, palming at the skin of your shoulders. Izuku nips your lower lip and you are melting in his touch like always, “I love you.”

You tilt your head, gasping as he starts down the column of your neck, biting kisses in a warm, wet line as he descends. You echo out the sentiment in return, barely able to make out syllables with the salacious way his lips and tongue are working at your skin. Your hands twist in his hair and he pulls you flush with him so he can nudge the collar of the shirt aside to show your collarbones the same attention as your neck.

“Oh!” you pipe up, your voice hardly more than a squeak, “And I love your freckles too. They’re so cute and I love how they’re literally everywhere, even your dic-”

“Less talking,” Izuku takes you by surprise, tackling you back into the mattress, “more kissing.”

And you happily oblige.

Besides, you have the rest of your life to tell him how much you love his freckles.

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

a/n: all right. that’s it. never writing deku fic EVER again. phew. kacchan, please don’t be mad, honey, it was for a friend, i swear!!!!!

also it’s almost 4 am when i’m posting this so if the last section doesn’t make sense i’m sORRY!!!

taglist: 

@tui-lah @viviankennedy @bnha-homeroom @frogsmarch @anxietys-a-bitch @succulent-momma @albuquerquemalu @ali-on-reverie @iamthe-leaf @kamehamethot @hoe-biscus @ux-l3ee @lovelustdollsworld @bigbootyconnections @alexandria-selina @eianthedumbass @sanguinekeigo @desia2 @loveydoveythot @shoutosplaything @thatloserweeb @kittysocks20 @jayetheanimefreek101 @toastedpopsicles @riotfuckery @spidrskarma @panbaigel @unsafetypin @peltho @mes-bisous @ee-blue @mildlyman @moondust-and-starlight @ihaileysenpai @hijackedreese @vampiregirl70 @gwizzpanda @powderedjellidoughnut @salemthewitch​ @unknown-girlie​ @mea-100​ @crystal-is-in-the-digiworld​ @phantomjeans​ @lozmarton​ @bananayogurtbitch​ @wwhndsome​ @violeteyedkeith​ @pumapurman​ @stfucanunot​

[shoutosteakettle]

⤷ pairing: shouto todoroki x reader

⤷ genre: fluff

⤷ word count: 2786

⤷ a/n: i had a lot of fun writing this even if it took me three days, so i hope you guys have fun reading,, thank you @ererokii​ for beta-reading and making the header, love you bby

☆彡

“What do you mean we have the day off,” you asked your boyfriend, one foot already out the door, and you fully dressed and prepared to go kick ass as a pro hero.

“Look outside Y/n,” you shifted your attention from Shouto, focusing on the raging blizzard outside through the window of your apartment.

“You’re going to let a couple of snowflakes stop us from saving people,” you asked, not so silently judging the half and half man currently pouring himself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen.

“The agency called for an off day. You can go to work, but no one’ll be there,” Shouto sighed, grabbing the milk carton from the fridge.

“Are you serious,” you pouted, stepping back inside and closing the door behind you.

“I know how much you love your job, but you work too hard. Maybe this is a sign that you should take a break,” Shou suggested, putting the cap back on the milk and placing it on the top shelf inside the fridge.

“I love that you worry for me, but I work so hard because I love my job. Seeing the smiles on people’s faces whenever I arrive at an incident and being able to help them is always the second-best part of my day,” you confessed, making your way back to your bedroom so you could change and get comfy.

Shouto watched you disappear into your shared bedroom as he took another spoonful of his cereal. He listened from the kitchen as you opened and closed draws, grumbling about how much this sucked. He would never admit it, but his feelings were a little hurt that you thought having to spend a day with him was that bad. After a couple of minutes, you reemerged from the bedroom wearing a pair of Shouto’s grey sweats that sat loosely on your hips, not that it mattered because the oversized pink hoodie you were wearing covered everything up perfectly.

You made your way over to your boyfriend, who was in the middle of reading the back of the cereal box. “Is there any more,” you asked Shou, prompting him to look up from the maze he was close to solving. You guys had been living together for three months and dating for twelve, but he couldn’t help but blush every time he saw you in his clothes.

“Uh, yeah,” Shou said, reaching over to hand you the cereal box. He watched as you mimicked the same steps he had taken earlier, taking a bowl out the cabinet, then moving to the fridge to get the milk, and he realized something that made him feel all fuzzy on the inside, it was always in moments like this where you looked the most mundane when you were the most beautiful to him.

“What are you staring at,” you teased, pulling out a chair across the table from your boyfriend.

“You,” he paused mid-scoop of his cereal, a bit taken aback by his own suddenness, but deciding to along with it, “Do I tell you often enough how beautiful? Because you are very, very beautiful.”

Now it was your turn to blush. You reached over to run your fingers against the softness of his cheek, peering into his eyes as you felt the butterflies in your stomach begin to rise, “I don’t know how I ended up with someone as perfect as you.” You watched his lips curl up into a smile, and you noticed the way that his eyes lit up when you leaned over to steal a kiss before sitting back down in your seat.

“So what should we do today” you asked, completely blanking on anything you guys could do to have fun on what was probably going to be a pretty boring day.

He took less than a minute to ponder your question, before standing up from the table and gathering his dishes, “Do you remember the night you first stayed over? We popped-”

“Popped popcorn and made a fort and spent all night cuddled up together watching movies,” you recalled, remembering how nervous you were that day. By now, being all close and personal with Shou was something you had gotten used to, but in the earlier days of your relationship, it took you awhile to get used to how cold he was. He wasn’t someone who craved affection, which meant 90% of the time you were the one that had to initiate interactions with him, even the little things like hand-holding. But over time, he had gotten used to the random pecks on his cheek, and your hugs from behind, and every now and then he would call you by a name that wasn’t your own, or pull you in for an unsolicited smooch session. “Is that what you want to do today?”

“Unless you want to do something else. It’s up to you,” Shou answered, placing the bowls he had finished washing on the drying rack before shifting his attention towards the empty food bowls by the fridge.

“I think that sounds like a plan,” you smiled, standing up from the table to pass your boyfriend a can of cat food from the pantry. At the sound of the can opening, you watched the eyes of your black house cat open, and after a short stretching session, the pitter-patter of her little feet on the hardwood was heard throughout the living room. For a second or two, you watched to make sure that she paced herself while she was eating, worried that she might choke on the pellets.

“Y/n, Luna is going to be fine. I don’t know why you worry about her so much,” Shou sighed, picking up her water bowl and trailing over to the sink. You listened to the soft purrs of your cat as she ate from her white food bowl, decorated with black fish and crossbones patterned around the rim, before the sound of the tap running filled the silence of the kitchen. You had found Luna one day in the parking garage. You remember how scared she looked when your eyes met hers through the windshield of your car. She was half dead and starving and in no condition to be running the streets the way she was. The next month and a half consisted of you and Shouto taking her to vet appointments and learning how to function with the new addition to your family.

“Well, she is our practice kid, right? If I do a good job parenting her, then the skills should automatically transfer over when we have a real kid to take care of,” you said very matter of factly, watching the muscles in Shou’s forearm flex as he squatted to place the water bowl down where it had originally sat.

“So how about you pop the popcorn and I set up the movie, that way we can do the fort together,” you asked, already moving towards the living room. You heard a quick hum from Shouto followed by the sound of his slippers hitting the kitchen titles. You shuffled through Shouto’s Blu Ray collection, picking out some of his favorite movies along with your own.

Just as you were about to shift your attention towards trying to figure out how to work Shouto’s ancient DVD player, the lights in the living room went out, then the ones in the hallway. You turned your head to Shou, who was standing in the kitchen, pressing the buttons on the microwave in frustration, trying to get it to work again. You moved to pick up Luna, ignoring the painful sting of her nails scratching your skin before walking towards your confused boyfriend in the kitchen corner.

“Babe, I think the power is out,” you said, placing your hand on top of his, successfully grasping his attention. “I think we should call the landlord.”

ミ☆

While you listened to the conversation Shouto and the landlord were having on the phone, you checked in with your neighbor across the hall, asking her if she was having the same problems but most importantly, making sure she was okay. She told you that her power had gone out too and assured you that she and her family were doing perfectly fine. After you had texted her goodbye, you turned to Shou, who had just finished up his call. “It looks like the power for the whole city is out,” he sighed, and that was pretty sucky, but the sad look on his face bothered you even more.

“What’s wrong, Shou? Is having internet really that important to you,” you joked, trying your best to lift his spirits only to be met with a heavy sigh.

You felt the weight of the couch shift under you, and you watched as Shouto took your hands in his. The feeling of his warm, calloused palms against you, along with the intertwining of your fingers, was one of your favorites in the world. You looked up from your hands and into Shouto’s eyes only for him to already be looking right back at you. “It’s not about the wifi. It’s just that today was finally going to be a chance for us to spend some time together. We may work at the same agency, and sleep in the same bed, but recently I’ve just felt really… distant from you,” he confessed, and you had to admit it was a bit odd for him to be the one complaining about distance.

You felt more than a little guilty as all the times you turned down eating lunch with him in favor for a couple extra minutes of gym time, or the times you would come home after patrolling into the late hours of the night, only for Shouto to be fast asleep, came rushing back to you. You couldn’t stop the tear that had rolled down your cheek or the ones that followed after that as you stared back at the sad eyes piercing your soul. “I’m really sorry, Shou,” was all you could manage to choke out before you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug that spoke all the words you were unable to.

Confusion was evident on Shouto’s face, he didn’t expect his sudden outburst expressing his feelings to have the effect that it did on you. Uncertain on what to do with his hands, Shou settled on rubbing your back, trying his best to calm you down, “I didn’t mean for you to cry Y/n. I’m sorry if I said anything to offend you-”

“I’m sorry for being the worst girlfriend ever. I can’t believe I put my job before you,” you sobbed, feeling bad that he had to put up with you for the past couple of months, “Look our day isn’t completely ruined. We can still build the fort, and instead of watching movies, we can… catch up on some reading!” You watched the smile on Shouto’s face slowly grow into a big goofy grin before he nodded in agreement with your idea.

☆彡

Shouto had taken responsibility for the fort’s structure, making sure the blankets were secure in the way they draped over the back of your kitchen chairs and that there was enough room in the fort for the two of you plus Luna. You were on comfort detail, scouring the apartment for pillows and fluffy blankets, seeing as the heat had gone out it was up to you to make sure that the members of your household didn’t freeze to death. 

After what felt like hours, but was really just thirty minutes (something Shouto was sure to remind you of every time you complained), of hard work and bickering about the placement of certain pillows and where to lay the blankets, you and Shouto were able to take a step back and look at the masterpiece you and he had created. “It’s beautiful,” you said, feeling on top of the world and full of pride because you knew that you and your boyfriend had just built the most perfect fort that had ever had the pleasure of gracing the earth. The base of the pillow fort was decked out with your thickest and most comfortable blankets and fluffiest pillows, seeing as that would be where you would be relaxing, so of course, you would want it to be as comfy as possible. Surrounding the fort were four chairs, all an equal distance from each other, on top of those laid your thinnest blankets, Shou had decided that they were the least likely to weigh the fort’s structure down. The mix-matched colors and patterns of your fort happened to compliment each other in the best way, which only added to its beauty.

You got on your hands and knees to crawl inside, considering that the fort was nowhere tall enough for you to get inside any other way. You were waiting for Shou to join you, but instead, you were met with your pet cat’s soft purs. You heard Shouto’s footsteps descending back to the kitchen, and you waited a minute or two for him to join before you let your curiosity get the best of you, “Whatcha doing over there, Shou?”

“Just give me a minute, I’ll be right there love,” the sound of the nickname he didn’t use too often made your stomach once again fill to the brim with butterflies. You looked over to Luna and gave her an excited smile, and in return, she gave you a quick ‘meow’ before going back to licking in between her paws. 

To fill the time, you decided to start one of the books Shouto had picked out for you to read. It was called Broken Things and much to your surprise, the book was actually really interesting, the story followed this girl who was willing to give away everything for the happiness of others, regardless of the repercussions it had on her life. You were sure he was trying to send you a message because Shou saying you were too nice was a complaint you heard leave his lips way too often.

When Shouto finally came back, he had a mug in each hand, proving it to be rather difficult for him to get inside. You took the cups from his hands to help him watching as he got down on all fours like you had earlier and  inside to join you and Luna, the warmth of the cups was a nice difference from the cold air in the room. “Is this hot chocolate? The gas is out too, right? How did you make this,” you asked, your eyes wide with awe because he had remembered your favorite drink, something you had told him when you first started dating. Your eyes followed the small smile on your boyfriend’s lips as he took a seat to the left of you before reaching for his drink.

“This same way I can do this,” he said, pulling you in closer so you could feel the warmth of his quirk. You snuggled in close to the human radiator sitting next to you, setting your cup down in favor of picking up where you had left off in your book, Shou doing the same.

After what couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes, you broke the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you, to ask Shouto a question that you had been bugging you all day, “The office didn’t call for an off day did they?”

“How did you know,” he asked, looking over at you like a kid that had been caught drawing on the walls.

“Agencies don’t call for off days dummy, they can’t have all the heroes on break when there’s still people out there to save. Plus, you’re terrible at lying, I could tell you weren’t telling the truth the moment after you said it,” you looked up from the page you were on and into the heterochromatic eyes that had been staring at you.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question too,” Shouto asked, receiving a hum from you in return, “You mentioned earlier you said work was your second favorite part of the day, what’s your first?”

Once again, you looked up from your book, completely abandoning this time it in favor of laying your head on Shou’s chest and closing your eyes before answering his question, “Waking up next to you.”

You couldn’t see him, but you already knew his usually pale cheeks were slowly turning to a shade of rosy pink, and you cursed yourself for missing out on seeing his reaction.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too, Shou.”

[mahalkitajohnnysuh]

Sugar and Fluff (Volume 3)

This is not the usual edition of this series, as this focuses more on the tension between Johnny and Essie before becoming a couple. 

The stories are still sweet and fluffy, but at the same time, it isn’t. Anyway, here’s Johnny rocking the keyboard as a hint on what to expect for today’s post. 

Mahal ko kayong lahat! :) 

–––

Summary: I think I’ve already said what you need to know, but I’d like to move what I usually mention at the Warning header that italics are for thoughts and italic and bold are for lyrics.  Both videos of the song mentioned will be embedded below for your listening pleasure. You can also click the link of the song in the second part if you’re not into the video, but why would you miss one of the cutest MVs of all time? Just kidding, guys. 

POV: 2nd person for both 

Word count: 1,800+ words 

–––

I. Because Johnny playing the piano will always be iconic

There were times you missed playing the piano.

You and Nini used to go home late from school because you took piano lessons. However, you weren’t able to move past the first grade as you eventually found it difficult to play. Reading notes past beyond the staff and figuring out how to play half notes made you lose your interest since it took you time to figure it out on the keys. Nini was able to finish the program and could still play a complicated piece if asked to.

Now that you were living with Johnny and Mark (who was unfortunately abroad again), you were delighted to see that he had a piano at his place. Not only does he have the classical instrument, but he also has an organ in the corner of his bedroom.

One time, you asked him to play after a long day at work. “Play some for me, Johnny,” you asked, tapping the side of the instrument.

He was lounging on the sofa, watching a video on his phone. “Come again, baby?” He said, briefly looking up at you. “Can you play the piano for me?” You sat down beside him and even leaned toward his face to show how much you wanted it.

“Hey, what’s up?” He sat up straight and examined your face. You don’t usually ask him to play the piano unless you were not feeling well or you needed added stimuli for sleep.

“I don’t feel so well,” you whispered, looking away from him. “Why? What happened?” You heard him come closer to you, the fabric of his pants and the sofa cover rustling together.

“I’m not comfortable telling yet,” you responded as he held your hands. “Okay baby, I’ll wait for that,” he squeezed your hands first, “but now I’ve got to fulfill your request.”

He went to the piano and you watched him prepare, wiggling his fingers first before he placed them over ebony and ivory keys.

When you heard the iconic introduction of Alicia Keys’s ‘If I Ain’t Got You’, you stifled a sob.

It brought back memories of your childhood playing the piano – after all, she was the person who inspired you to play.

Some people want it all

But I don't want nothing at all

If it ain't got you baby

If I ain't got you baby

He sang, which made you more emotional. It has been a while since you heard him sing again. You went to his side and sang along with him.

Some people want diamond rings

Some just want everything

But everything means nothing

If I ain't got you, yeah

You looked at each other as you finished the chorus, then gave each other the most genuine smiles you could muster.

It was a beautiful moment that both of you would treasure – you even mentioned it during your wedding speech!

Even though you know you don't have a great singing voice, you did your best to give justice to the song. You believed that you harmonized well with Johnny, who was giving more than his best self to execute the song.

If I ain’t got you with me, baby

So nothing in this whole world don’t mean a thing

If I ain’t got you with me, baby

As the song ended, Johnny looked at you expectantly. “That…was good, right?” He asked carefully and a little out of breath since he used more of his singing voice today.

You nodded, flashing him a grin. “Yeah, that was great. Can’t believe we harmonized so well,” you said, taking a seat beside him on the stool.

He laughed at your comment and looped an arm around your waist. “I hope that made you feel better,” he whispered, his mouth too close to your ears and neck.

Shivers went down your spine with his words, but you didn’t let him make you weak. You leaned forward and whispered back, “Yes, it did. Thank you, Johnny.”

His other arm snaked around you, and now you were enveloped in his embrace. You settled your head on his shoulder, and he did the same.

“You know I’m always here for you, right?” He murmured against your ear, making you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Yes, I know. And I’m so grateful for that.” You had to pull away a bit to look at his face, and he made a kissing face.

You know you wanted to kiss him back, but you know that you shouldn’t. You nuzzled his neck in response, which made him giggle. “Not there!” He whined as he squeezed your sides. You yelped when he pinched too hard and attempted to bite his shoulder.

You were in a playful mood after getting your emotional side out of your system, which Johnny shared as well.

You moved your tickling game at the couch wherein you laughed, cried, kicked, and bit each other. Once both of you were tired, you stared into each other’s eyes while you embraced.

“I missed moments like this,” Johnny started, one of his hands now stroking your hair.

“Same here,” you replied, one of your hands cupping his face.

You two were so close that people thought you were dating. You had to correct people that you aren’t – you told them that you were so comfortable with him that you can be really intimate with him at times. You didn’t know if he said the same thing to other people though.

There were instances that your closeness made you feel things – you just wanted to kiss him, cradle him in your arms, or even do it with him. You had to fight it because you were not sure if he felt the same.

You wanted to say something, but the words left your mouth. You looked at him lovingly, wishing that something will come out of your intimacy. He sensed your longing and pecked you on the lips.

It was very brief that you weren’t able to process it. You blinked when he pulled away, making him giggle at your reaction. “Aw, you’re so cute Essie,” he said, pinching your nose. You glared at him in return, and he soothed the part he pinched.

“I love you,” he said, his face glowing with warmth.

The words came out of your mouth without any hesitation: “I love you too.”

Those three words may seem romantic, but they can still mean differently – either they mean he loves you more than you think or he loves you just as his best friend.

You wondered what he meant by that.

\\\

II. Inspired by my favorite Regina Spektor song

When Essie realized she was in love with Johnny Suh, she knew she was screwed.

She had a lot of guy friends who were close to her, but they did not reach the level she had with the Chicago native.

They were quite intimate – they had skinship similar to that of a couple. People often thought that they were dating, which they either pretended to be (at times to fend off creeps) or dismissed.

Sometimes, she had to hold herself back from touching him. She knew other people would make comments behind their back about the way she massaged his hand when she was bored, or when her hand absentmindedly ran across his chest down to his waist when she was comforting him.

But that was how they were. In return, Johnny liked to hug her and bury his face in the crook of her neck, as if he was kissing it. There were instances that he did – just a simple peck. That wasn’t romantic, right?

However, these gestures were getting to her. The topics they were discussing lately were about relationships and what they would like to see in their ideal partner.

Essie noticed that he was taking notes. When she talked about how she would love it if her dream guy would get her tickets to any one of her favorite performers at a show abroad and watch it with her, he made it happen a week later.

He dragged her to the airport at 3 a.m. on a Thursday so they could fly to Peru and watch Franz Ferdinand later in the evening. They spent two days and three nights, resulting in a memo from her office when she got back. It was a surprise that made her feel loved and terrified at the same time.

Whenever people did something for her, she appreciated it. Truly, madly, and deeply, like the song goes. But she was terrified at how her heart beat loudly against her chest when he held her hand, gripped it tightly, and looked at her straight in the eyes as he led her closer to the stage of the concert they were watching.

“Aren’t I a step ahead of your ideal partner?” He said while the strumming of an electric guitar echoed in the open night.

She cocked her head at him, gesturing him to repeat what he said. He laughed in response and patted her shoulder. “Never mind,” he mouthed as he continued to hold her hand.

In fact, she heard him loud and clear. But she didn’t expect his words. She was rendered speechless by it.  

As she currently watched Johnny furiously typing away on his phone at the other end of the sofa, she reevaluated her feelings for the nth time.

They were living together for the past three months, along with their friend Mark. Her apartment, which she shared with Nini, was under repair. It was her part of the house that needed repairs, making Nini stay behind and watch over the process.

Essie was lucky that Johnny immediately offered his apartment, which had another spare room. When she moved in, she was shocked that he made it a replica of her room. She found it creepy at first but then grew to love it each day. It was sweet, very sweet, of Johnny Suh to do this.

He has always been sweet, if not smooth, for the duration of their friendship.

His actions must tell her something by now, right? But no, she could also be the densest person in the world.

“Hey, baby. Are you okay?” Johnny broke her reverie, glancing at her worried face before going back to his phone.

“Yeah…I am,” she responded slowly, her eyes looking for something to distract herself with (other than him, duh). “I’m just…at a loss.”

“What do you mean?” This got his attention as he shoved his phone in his pocket, moving closer to her at the other end of the couch.

“I…I don’t know what to do,” Essie whispered, looking at her palms this time.  

“Hey, what’s up, really?” She could feel the warmth of his body near her, and she closed her eyes when he wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her toward his chest.

“Johnny…” she mumbled, burying her neck on her shoulder. Her left arm hooked around his waist while her right gripped the fabric of her dress tightly.

“Baby…” Those words were enough to make her weep.

Why must you make me feel this way?

–––

FIN

[jinterlude]

Two Faced (Ch.4)

↳ gif header is made by © @softjeon. Please don’t try and steal it and make it your own.

➵ Pairing(s): Gang!Jungkook x Female!OC & Gang!Mark Lee x Female!OC x Gang!Seokjin

➵ Genre(s):  College!AU, Mafia/Gang!AU, Angst, Romance, Friendship, Humor, Love Triangle & Slight-Fluff

➵ Warning(s): None for this chapter

➵ Words: 4.4K

➵ Co-writer: @softjeon​

➵ Summary: Two girls. Two gangs. One craved absolute control over the city of Seoul. While, the other simply craved sleep and good grades. Now, what do these two ladies have in common? Simple. They have nothing in common—or so they think. Everyone knows the saying, “never judge a book by its cover”, so maybe there is something more to these two than meets the eye…especially when one of them is suddenly thrown into the underground life. Loyalties will be tested. Romance will blossom. Yup. Sounds like an average college day…

« Previously | Next Time »

Chapter 4 - So My Roomie is a Gang Leader

A few days later, Sumin still had yet to crack the mystery that was Sowon. Whenever they attended classes, meaning Sumin dragged her roommate along because she had grown tired of Sowon’s professor looking at her like they had no idea what she was talking about, Sowon behaved like the first time they had meant. Yet when they were back home, the lazy roommate turned into this confident, almost cold-hearted person.

Seriously, Sumin practically experienced whiplash from the many times that Sowon had abruptly changed personas. However, the innocent little lady refused to give up until she uncovered the truth about Sowon and her mysterious group of boys.

To this day, Sumin doesn’t know what they do, how they met Sowon, or even why the sudden silence whenever she came into the room?

So many questions yet so little time—especially now since Sowon was currently shoving every single style of dress at her, demanding that she’d try them on.

“Wait, try this dress on!” yelled Sowon as she threw yet another short and tight dress over the dressing room door.

Sumin groaned loudly. Sowon didn’t quite understand Sumin’s reasoning for disliking the whole “going to the club”. Though, deep down. Sumin knew that Sowon could care less about what she disliked—well—for the most part.

“Sowon! I think this dress is shorter than the last one you chucked at me…!” Sumin whined; her eyes widened as she took in her reflection. All she saw was legs, legs, and more legs. Oh, she couldn’t forget the semi-exposure of her cleavage too…

Sumin chuckled, secretly finding Sumin’s discomfort a bit amusing. The secretive gang leader knew what she was doing. She was never oblivious to Sumin’s body type, especially, when she noticed that this petite girl had some curves to her. How did she noticed? It’s simple, really. Sowon had noticed when Sumin was being trained by Seokjin. Honestly, after that day, Sowon questioned why her innocent little roomie never wore anything tight. Like, a nicely fitted blouse, or even a cocktail type of dress that accentuated her best features.

If Sumin thought Sowon was a mystery, then Sumin would be like a cold-case for Sowon.

Two girls with their own hidden secrets.

Sounds like a fun game…

Hours had passed, and the two girls finally left the clothing store with two shopping bags in each arm.

“I still think you should’ve gotten that cute black dress. I think you would’ve looked cute in that lace.” commented Sowon, pouting cutely.

Sumin grimaced, “Weren’t you the one that told me that the dress looked like something a mom would wear, though?” She pointed out, giving her roomie a knowing look.

Sowon laughed, “I was using reverse-psychology on you. Honestly, I wanted you to get that dress since it represents your personality quite well.”

Sumin tilted her head slightly; confusion slowly appeared on her face.

“How so?” She asked.

Sowon simply hummed in response as she thought about how she could explain it without unknowingly offending her sunshine.

“Just trust me, okay?” Sowon winked at her roommate playfully and lead her back to her car. Sumin still had no idea what this all was about and she seriously had no idea why she was playing along. Maybe she liked the rush of it all a little too much already.

When they parked in front of Sowon’s mansion again, Sumin just followed the leader as always.

“You will have some last minute training with Jin in a bit.” Sowon announced as she  turned and walked a little backwards until they were in her room that she normally shared with Jungkook but when Sumin stayed over—it was theirs. It was always put her in a rather good mood whenever she thought about how that even occurred.

Apparently, Sumin had pulled her aside one night, telling her that she won’t stay in a random room nor will sleep with any of the boys. Sowon sat down at the edge of her bed as she eyed the slightly nervous Sumin, who still had no idea what it was all about. Biting her lip, Sowon contemplated for a while. She needed to let Sumin in. Either way it would get quite dangerous for her. Sumin must have an idea already on who she really was, but still—the innocent girl stayed quiet and in a weird way, she trusted Sowon.

Now standing in their shared bedroom, Sumin groaned, throwing her head back. After what seemed like an eternity of shopping, the last thing the tired girl wanted to do was train with Seokjin. Even more so, when she didn’t have a clear explanation as to why she had to train in the first place. When she originally asked Sowon why she had to train, the older woman would simply say,

“Because, I can easily break you with my hugs, and I don’t want to accidentally kill you one day.”

Sighing loudly, Sumin flopped on her bed, well Jungkook’s, and stared blankly at the ceiling while Sowon eyed her with this amusing gleam in her eye. She knew that Sumin could be lazy but, at the same time, she displayed more advanced athletic skills when she felt like that.

Too bad that those moments were rare. Like, Sowon showing up to her classes rare.

“Okay, come on, you book worm,” Sowon walked up to Sumin and grabbed her wrists, “You don’t want Jinnie to wait for you forever, right?” She questioned as she roughly yanked Sumin up, earning a tiny yelp from her roomie.

Sumin whined again, but soon submitted to Sowon. If she didn’t do it now, she knew that Sowon would resort to more drastic methods, and the last time that happened, Sumin ended up on Seokjin’s lap, wearing nothing but her sleeping shirt.

Yeah...she firmly believed that she accidentally turned him on…

Sowon smiled brightly before tossing Sumin her workout gear. She then pushed the girl into the bathroom and said to meet her in the training room.

As she walked out, this interesting idea began to formulate in her devious mind. This scheming like smirk slowly graced her beautiful face the more the idea solidified.

“I think I should pay Yoongi a visit…” She thought sweetly as the sounds the of her heels echoed throughout the empty corridor.

Now, standing in the middle of the training room, Sumin tightened her ponytail. She couldn’t quite understand why Seokjin told her to put her hair up, but she simply shrugged it off and did as she was told. Once her hair was secured enough, she moved on to stretching out her muscles, though, she did it half-assed.

Seokjin shook his head softly, chuckling at how his princess wasn’t taking this training seriously. Maybe she would once her life was on the line.

Then, it hit him. That’s what he’d do to get her to exert all of her strength.

“Okay, princess,” He began, walking to the center and standing in front of Sumin, “I need you to punch me.” He instructed as he got into a fighting stance.

Sumin froze; her doe-like eyes widened. Was he messing with her? He had to be since their previous training sessions only required her throwing knives at a target or knowing how to prep a gun.

Now, he wanted her to punch him.

Nope. Not going to happen.

“What?! I’m not going to punch you!” She practically shrieked, not wanting to harm the pretty boy for doing absolutely nothing to her.

Seokjin gave her look, “You need to be able to defend yourself, especially when you can’t get to your gun or even a simple knife.” He explained, taking step forward towards Sumin, who then took a step back.

Her heart raced against her chest. Her breathing became sporadic. There’s the whole defending herself thing again. Since day one, he had always told her that the reason for learning about weaponry, concocting the perfect escape route, etc. was because she needed to learn how to defend herself from anything and everything.

What was going on?

“Defend myself from what?!” yelled Sumin, finally fed up with being kept in the dark.

“From enemies,” A sudden voice behind Sumin said, when an arm already wrapped around her neck and quickly brought her to the ground. Sumin was completely knocked off her balance.

Sowon laughed, when Sumin tried to threw her hands at her, flapping them like birds. But somehow Sumin grabbed a handful of her hair and pushed Sowon down, making the older woman squeal a little, before she quickly caught her wrist and brought it up Sumin’s head. “What the fuck, Sowon!” Sumin shouted, and the boys around cheered as the two girls were rolling around, fighting each other off. It didn’t take long for Sowon to have the upper hand again, pinning both hands up over Sumin’s head, while she was sitting comfortably on Sumin’s waist.

“Now, sunshine,” Sowon said a little out of breath, “Do you ever heard something about ‘Bangtan’?”

Sumin squirmed underneath Sowon. A faint blush crept on her face, not because that she was aroused or anything, but because that this was the most skin-on-skin contact that she ever experienced and—she hated it. She wanted Sowon to get off her right now. While, with the other person, Sowon refused to weaken her grip until Sumin answered her.

“You know...you can keep squirming all you want, but I’m not getting up until you answer…” She declared, chuckling softly at Sumin’s failed attempts of freeing herself.

With a final spurt of strength, Sumin flopped back down and finally answered Sowon but shaking her head as the word, “no”, escaped her tired lips.

“Oh, really?” Sowon said and let go of Sumin’s wrists and sat herself up a little more, “That’s honestly…disappointing. But what did I expect?”

The leader got up from Sumin’s body and held out a hand for her to grab to pull her up. Not even caring about dusting off her clothes, Sumin stared at Sowon, demanding answers. Her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Okay, so…,” Sowon finally started and turned towards her boys, “Did you hear about the new drug that has been going around campus for a while now?” She licked her lips with a knowing smile when Sumin nodded frantically. She had heard about it and seen it. It was designed to make the students more efficient and awake but also left them on a very ‘high’ and mentally fucked up state afterwards. “Well, hi…that was me,” Sowon threw her hair back and proudly turned around before she introduced herself once again, but this time it was accurate, “Hi, I’m Sowon, leader of ‘Bangtan’. I own a drug and weaponry business and basically every club you know…is mine. This is the world I live in… and you’re in it now.”

Sumin stood there in silence, practically like a zombie since her soul pretty much left her body. Her brain went into overdrive as it tried its hardest to process the information that she had learned.

Then, her mouth formed a tiny “O”. Tiny whispers spewed from her lips as she repeated every other word that she had heard come out of Sowon’s lips.

“So...you are a gang leader that owns clubs, deals in drugs and weaponry, and more than likely does other illegal stuff…” Sumin trailed on, while Sowon and the rest of Bangtan nod their head. “That doesn’t mean you can neglect your studies since you have seven other people to handle that stuff for you.” She added.

The second she said, this giant wave of confusion crashed onto Bangtan. Okay. That wasn’t the reaction they were looking for.

“You’re not going to run to the cops and rat us out?” Seokjin questioned; his words dripped with caution.

Sumin simply shook her head.

This caused even more confusion with the gang.

“Why not?” Jungkook asked, finding a bit too weird that this outsider wasn’t running to the police.

“Well, by the looks on your face, that is something that you’d expect. Besides, I’m pretty positive that one of you guys would’ve shot me dead before I could even make it to the front door.” She kindly explained, displaying her intelligence to them. A quiet click of a gun was heard, when everyone stared at Yoongi for a second.

“What? I mean…that’s what I’m supposed to do right?” Yoongi shrugged his shoulders and secured his gun back in his holster.

Sowon stared at Sumin, blinking a few times, as now it was her turn to wrap her mind around Sumin’s words. She knew that Sumin was quite smart, but she didn’t know that she could be street smart given her naive nature. Her innocent little sunshine had yet to cease in impressing her.

Now, after seeing Sumin’s street smarts, her plan on luring out NCT’s leader would officially be foolproof…

“Good!” Sowon clapped in her hands, happy that her plan was working out, but before she could turn around, Sumin held her back.

“But now…what do I have to do with all of this?” She asked, raising her eyebrow as she looked up at the gang leader.

“Oh, right,” Sowon chuckled and cupped Sumin’s cheek sweetly, “You my dear are my bait. I need someone that they don’t expect, someone innocent as you. You won’t get hurt, trust me.” Sumin furrowed her brows, opening her mouth to speak but the leader was interrupting her already, explaining every important information she needed to know and leaving out a few little details. “It’s easy,” She nodded, “We go in, you find out what the leader looks like and I can finally take them down. Then you can go back to your boring life and I can finally stop pretending to be a student.”

Sowon smiled at Sumin, though inside, she couldn’t help but be nervous as well. It wasn’t like she was going after any gang. NCT was a force to be reckoned with, or else Sowon wouldn’t have to hide to keep safe. They made it clear before—they wanted her. Dead or Alive. They truly did not care. And sometimes, if no one was around, Sowon couldn’t help but feel it. The fear. The anxiety. With great power comes great responsibility. And ‘Bangtan’ was her family. She needed them all to be safe. And now that Sumin was in the picture, Sowon had one more person to look out for.

Straightening her shoulders, Sowon hugged Sumin, kissing the top of her hair before she simply turned without saying a word.

Jungkook’s eyes followed her retreating body, before he looked back at Sumin. He knew she wouldn’t ever forgive herself if something happened to her. As much as the leader wouldn’t admit it, Jungkook knew how much Sumin already meant to her. She wouldn’t survive another life taken away from her.

“Wait...did she just say that I was being used as bait?!” shrieked Sumin once Sowon left the room.

The rest of the fellas shielded their precious ears as they nodded their heads. Did they truly believe that Sumin would be safe luring this invisible man out?

Probably not.

Would they let something happen to her?

Never.

“Just trust us, princess,” Seokjin began, placing a warm hand on her shoulder, “While, we do appear cold and can easily murder someone without exerting too much effort, we are one big family, and we never let our family get hurt. Okay?” He reassured the nervous woman, smiling softly.

Sumin sighed, still unsure if he meant what he said; however, if it meant that she would be allowed to go back to her academics and having a sense of normalcy, then…

“Okay. I’ll do it. When do I have to this baiting thing?” She asked, trying to keep her voice nice and calm but ultimately failed when it wavered near the end.

Seokjin turned to Jungkook, who knew everything and anything that Sowon planned. One of the many perks of dating the leader.

“This Saturday.” Jungkook answered shortly.

Sumin faked a laugh, “Great…”

Before she knew it, Saturday arrived quickly. From receiving more hand-to-hand combat training to going over brief notes of NCT, Sumin didn’t realize that it had indeed become Saturday. It finally registered when Sowon pushed her into the bathroom, shoved a navy-blue cocktail dress, and matching heels.

“Oh! Leave your hair down!” The pushy leader suggested as she fixed the positioning of her wig. Instead of her natural dark locks, she now dawned this hazel brown color that slowly faded into this purple ombre.

After what seemed like hours, Sumin emerged from the bathroom. Her hair cascaded down the sides of her face like a waterfall. Her makeup highlighted her best facial features while the navy-blue dress clung nicely against her body. On her feet were these black heels that paired nicely.

Sowon couldn’t help but do this wolf whistle at the girl. Damn, Sumin cleaned up nicely. She still appeared to be this innocent lady yet now looked to have ulterior motives.

The gang leader’s eyes did a quick glance over. Sumin looked great but something was missing. Then, she suddenly snapped her fingers and rushed to the dresser. Her hands grasped one of her many jewelry boxes and opened it. She then pulled out this nice diamond and sapphire bracelet and walked back to Sumin.

“Wear this.” She instructed nicely, even though she pretty much clasped it around Sumin’s wrist.

Sumin eyed the extravagant bracelet and asked her why she needed to wear this. To which Sowon answered,

“Not only does this complete your look, but it also has a hidden tracker and microphone just in case NCT’s leader decides to be a creeper and kidnap you.”

Sumin chuckled nervously as her eyes flickered to the bracelet again. Great, she hadn’t even thought about the possibility of being kidnapped until Sowon put that image in her head. Sowon noted the sudden nervous emotion within Sumin and patted the girl on head; a weird yet sweet attempt on calming the girl.

“No matter what...you will be protected by either myself or one of the guys.” Sowon reassured before pulling her into a warm, comforting hug.

Sumin stood there, at first, but soon returned the hug. It was a simple action yet it meant so much the younger girl. She never had any friends, so it truly got lonely sometimes.

But ever since Sowon came into her life, it had been one interesting adventure. And to think...the journey was only just beginning...

“You ready to turn on some hormonal boys, minus Yoongi and Jimin, of course.” Sumin heard Sowon say in a teasing voice. Of course Sowon, the never tiring seductress, wanted to torture the fellas.

Sumin simply rolled her eyes but displayed an amused grin on her face. Sowon was definitely rubbing off on her.

Exiting the room, the girls sauntered their way towards the staircase. The way their body spoke was if they were saying that they were ready to take on whoever and whatever that came at them.

As they neared the staircase, it was eerily quiet. Nothing but the sounds of their heels hitting the marble stairs were heard as they descended down the steps. Everyone was busy with getting themselves ready. Putting their guns into their holsters. That was until each fella heard this clinking sound. Each of their heads snapped towards the stairwell. Some of their jaws dropped as they couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the girls’ beauty. No one dared to say too much, though Seokjin’s eyes were fixated on Sumin’s body for a little too long. Damn…she looked good.

Sowon was walking over to Jungkook right away, letting him take her in his embrace as they both turned away from the group a little more.

“You good?” Jungkook asked sweetly, pushing a strand of Sowon’s fake hair behind her ear, as she nodded. “Sure,” She smiled a bit too nervous for Jungkook’s liking.

“She will do fine.” He reassured her.

“I know, I’m just…,” Sowon sighed. She hated how easily Jungkook could read her. Her eyes flickered over to Sumin and the leader flashed her a confident smile and a wink, before she wrapped her arms around Jungkook’s neck.

“Stay close,” The leader whispered, placing a soft kiss right below his pulse point, making him shiver. “As soon as we got everything we need to know,” She cupped Jungkook’s cheek, her lips only inches away from his, “I want her to be out of there. Unharmed.”

Jungkook sighed softly as a tiny grin appeared on his handsome face.

“On Seokjin’s honor, I’m damn sure that she’ll remain unharmed while on this mission.” He stated quietly before closing the gap between their lips, indulging in the sweetest and most addicting kisses that Sowon always offered him.

While with Sumin, she couldn’t help but watch the couple engage the most passionate kiss ever. Part of her, silently wished that she too could experience that strong sense of intimacy—that feeling of being loved. Yet, with the other half, she was completely content with being by herself—right?

“Alright, my sweet sunshine! Time to get the show on the road!” shouted Sowon, pulling Sumin out of her contradicting thoughts.

Sumin simply smiled in response as Seokjin walked up to her and stood by her side. He gently placed a hand on her bare shoulder, ignoring the jolts of electricity that surged through his veins.

“Everything will be fine,” He paused, taking the moment to courageously place a sweet kiss on her temple, “Hoseok and I will be watching you from a nearby booth, and Taehyung will mimic your movements from a distance,” He then turned her towards him; their eyes locked on each other, “No matter what, I will make sure nothing harms you.” He declared, pulling her into a hug.

Sumin stood there, allowing the man to hug her. She slightly lifted her arms to return the hug but soon dropped them when Seokjin released her from his warm embrace. This warm, almost loving, smile appeared on his face as Seokjin observed the faint blush invade Sumin’s already rosy cheeks.

“Thanks…” She mumbled; her eyes remained glued on the tile floor as she messed with the bracelet that Sowon gave her.

Seokjin found her shy exterior quite adorable as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, escorting her to the cars.

“Took you guys long enough…!” Sowon shouted as she watched the two finally exit the luxurious house.

Sumin rolled her eyes as she, slowly but surely, made her way to Sowon and the rest of Bangtan, minus Seokjin. He trailed right behind her with his hands stuffed inside the pockets of his pants.

Sowon eyed her cute little sunshine with an interesting gleam in her eyes as she hooked their arms together.

“Remember, the plan is to lure NCT’s leader out and then gain some useful knowledge that we can use against him. Okay?” The confident yet secretly scared gang leader reminded Sumin.

Sumin simply gave her a thumbs up before entering the vehicle.

Sowon nodded to herself with this confident smirk written all over her face. This plan was going to work.

She just knew it…

The ride to the club was fairly quiet. The only words spoken were only to see if Namjoon’s equipment worked. Sowon’s eyes were fixated on the road, her hand firmly placed in Jungkook’s who was staring out of the window. Sumin watched the two of them for a while, wondering about them. How they had met, if Jungkook had always been around or if it was one of those fairly odd love stories. She giggled, imagining Sowon being romantic and before she noticed, they arrived a few streets away from their destination.

“C’mon, sunshine,” Sowon held out her hand for Sumin to take, leaving the boys behind as they drove off again. Swinging their hands back and forth, Sowon was humming quietly, acting like they weren’t on a mission but in fact on their way to party. Rubbing her hands over Sumin’s arms, she kept the younger warm as they stood in the line to get inside.

“Normally I use my god given tools to get in quick, but we can’t get any extra attention tonight,” The leader mumbled and fixed a lock of Sumin’s hair.

Sumin only nodded, understanding her friend’s decision to keep a low profile. However, the almost frozen woman wished the line went a little bit faster. Also, there was no breeze. If there wasn’t a breeze, then tonight would’ve been perfect for her. After all, she did prefer the cold over the heat.

“I wonder why the line isn’t moving...the club couldn’t be a capacity already…” Sowon mumbled, hoping that Sumin didn’t hear her as she did.

Unfortunately, she did. Sumin looked at the leader and flashed a sympathetic smile.

“It’s okay, Sowon,” She began, “Besides, don’t you want a lot of people here tonight?” She asked, not knowing that a certain group of people had been listening. The joys of having advanced technology installed all over the establishment.

In a dark room, hidden from the eyes of the many clubbers, there sat an unknown figure; the person’s eyes remained fixated on Sumin’s face.

“I know that look, Mark… and no you can’t keep her.” joked a man with silver-hair.

The young man, with raven dark locks, simply smirked. He could waste his breathe on entertaining his right-hand man, but he decided that his words were better suited for that unknown gorgeous woman that entered the camera’s line of sight.

The black-haired man stood up, grabbing his leather jacket from the now vacant seat. He quickly put it on, covering his white dress shirt, and walked over to the door.

Using two fingers, he gestured for his men to follow him out.

A boy with reddish-orange hair stared at his leader with nothing but confusion. Mark never left their special room without a good reason. Intel had shown that no enemy gang members were dumb enough to show up tonight, so why the sudden appearance?

“You know...if you want her, Mark, we can go fetch her for you. No reason for you to expose yourself to the people out there.” said the confused boy.

Mark stopped in his tracks. He then glanced over his shoulder, revealing this practically devilish smirk, and said,

“I know that, Haechan, but I believe that my future girlfriend deserves my presence, don’t you think?”

A/N: And there you have it guys! NCT is officially in the house! (N-City, We Gotta Go Get Them)! What do you guys think of their appearance? Do you like seeing Mark as the leader of the gang instead of TY- Track himself? lol Let us know! 

Don’t forget to leave a comment/like/reblog/and an ask in mine or Jey’s inbox! We love hearing your thoughts!

- Kim

[luvdsc]

(1/?) hii, 🐧 anon here, back on track with very long ask to send you cause i miss you 🥺💓. i also danced to twice’s signal with my class but thinking about it, i must also look like a fish flopping around kekskswk. i sometimes felt insecure bc of being tall for a young age (am i young? idk) and only some of my friends, not always tho, it is iust like a joke but my family does. my family is also very tall, my dad is 190cm and my brother is like 2 meters (?), my mom isn’t tall, she is short - 🐧

(2/?) she is only 159cm and my baby sister is also tall, she is 2 years old but she is taller than most kids at her age and taller some of the kids older than her 😅. i never went to a concert before but if i do, being tall is definitely a benefit for me loll! i literally try to learn dances, i just watch the mv many times and copy it (only the chorus) i’m trying to learn blackpink’s how you like that, hope i can 😚. i usually visit my cousins when i was small, during summer mostly - 🐧

(3/?) hà nội is beautiful, i also love visiting it, and hội an too! my mon loves hội an, because there are many types of snacks there and it is like a paradise for me and my mom 🥰❤️. your trip to vietnam sounds amazing 🤩, it seems you have alot of fun there! to me, there isn’t much to see in sài gòn (since in sài gòn, mostly are malls) idk if you knew are not Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh and Sài Gòn are one! just the name changed, Sài Gòn is the old name of Thành Phố Hồ Chí Minh - 🐧

(4/?) i never went to Ngọc Châu Garden i think, this is actually my first time hearing this sksksk, i am embarrassed for living in Vietnam for my whole life and not knowing the restaurant 😅. I also thought my city is gorgeous too! This is my personal opinion but i think that, Hồ Chí Minh is like a modern city while Hà Nội is more ancient. omg same! my mom would get upset if we didn’t suggest anything to eat but then she cooked it and we didn’t like it, she would get upset - 🐧

(5/6and tbh, idk if i am responsible or not? cause i do sometimes but mostly not, i just do it cause i want to help out a bit, even though i helped a lot, i still get shout for being lazy 😞 but i do agree tho, like between lazy and responsible? i am not sure if i am close to my brother or not, even if he come back home, he doesn’t help me out that much, it is just like without him 😔, but i am used to that so i couldn’t complain abt anything, he helped with the dishes, but not much 😢 - 🐧

(6/6) i saw your jaemin’s fic come up omg! i will read it when i have time and i saw bang chan’s signature drawing on the title’s banner (is it call that wat?) ! the one that look like a worm and a dragon (?) my stay inner is screaming aaahhh! i hope you’re having a nice week and life is treating you well! my week are the same, stay hydrated, eat 3 meals a day and get enough rest hunny bunny 💕💕. i love you ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ - 🐧

✿ ✿ ✿

hello, honey bee!!!! 🌷 i love your messages, and i’m so happy to hear from you again! i missed you too!! 💕 sdfajsasjdfhj at least you know how to dance to twice’s signal!! i’m sure you looked just as amazing as tzuyu 🤩 and omg i’m positive you’re just as gorgeous and tall as weki meki’s doyeon, snsd’s sooyoung, gfriend’s sowon, and twice’s tzuyu 💝💝💝 you look like an absolute goddess!!! 💜 also oh my goodness, your dad and brother are so tall!!!! 😦 woah, i wish i was taller aksldhflkajsd pls share some of your height with me 

your mom is the same height as my sister i think and omg your sister got the tall model genes too!!!! and yes! it’s such a great perk of being tall because everyone else is short and you can comfortably watch and record the concert :’) omg that’s so cool though!!! you must be able to pick up dances really quickly :o which dance was the easiest for you to learn? and i hope you’ll be able to memorize bp’s hylt quickly 💘 aah, i see! when i was younger, i used to visit my cousins out of state too, but my family and i went every christmas break 💓

i love hà nội and hội an so much! i want to revisit them both 💕 omg yeah they had yummy food there!! i also bought one of my favorite bags there, it’s like a circular rattan bag? i love it so much. do you go to hội an with your mom a lot? it was soooo much fun!!! i absolutely loved all the different places we were able to visit and all the things i got to experience! 💛 oh yes, i heard people use both names interchangeably for the city! Sài Gòn is such a pretty name, and i want to call my cat that if i ever adopt one :’)

and omg no, you shouldn’t be embarrassed! i don’t even know all the restaurants in the city i live in LOL also, since we were tourists, we had chosen places to eat that were recommended by other tourists on yelp and such, and we didn’t really know the good food places that locals would go to 😅 but the food was amazing, and i loved it! 🌸 ooo yes, that’s what i thought when i visited both cities! i really like the more ancient style since the US is all modern, so i especially loved hà nội and yeah, like you said, Hồ Chí Minh has a lot of malls, and i’m not super interested in shopping akjhdfds and LOL yes exactly!!! i see that all moms are the same :’) 

i think you’re very responsible, lovebug! 💕 you’re helping out around the house, and you take good care of your sister every day, like i don’t think my mom ever trusted leaving me alone with my sister at home, but your parents trust you to take care of her even as a toddler!! 💟 also, i think all asian parents just like to yell at their kids for being lazy because that’s what happens to me and my friends too 🤧  akjsdhfljkasfdhla i think your brother sounds like the irresponsible and lazy one here 😅 you’re the one who’s doing so much :o

and omg i hope you’ll enjoy the jaemin fic!!! 💛 and oh my gosh yes!!! i was wondering if anyone would notice that little drawing ✨ i have it in the headers for jaemin, hyuck, and jisung :’) i gotta let my inner stay also show 🤩🤩 and thank you so so much, honey bee!!!! 🥺💗💗 my week is going good, and life has been treating me very well! (except it’s currently like 40 degrees celcius and i wanna melt rip) and i wish the same to you also 💘💘 drink lots of water, eat lots of yummy food, and make sure to get a good night’s sleep every night, sweetpea 🌸 ily lots!!!!! 💓💖💕💝💞💗✨🌷

[technosaroha-blog]

7 Best WordPress Themes for Blogs Free 2019 | Number 4 is AWESOME!

I understand your need /problem of finding the Best WordPress Themes for Blog. And the worst thing is that most of the time we are confused about which theme to use and which not.

As you are Looking for “best” ones, that means you are serious about your Brand or Blog/website.

So, in this article, I will share my Best WordPress Themes for Blogs Free in tech niche, E-commerce and Business niche.

Q: Why to use these free WordPress themes in 2019?

I agree that You will find a lot of free themes on WordPress.org, but in this article, my main aim is to tell you the famous & premium quality WordPress themes only.

I will only talk about the prestigious themes which are being used in the market for so many years.

All the themes I’ll be sharing here are mobile friendly and responsive themes. So, no worry about that.

These themes are being updated on a weekly or monthly basis. So, no doubt in this these are the themes which follow the WordPress guidelines and will not harm your data in any case.

Have I ever used these themes?

Good news is that I will only recommend you those themes only, which I have personally used before.

For more tutorials like this, visit my blog TechnoSaroha

Q: Difference between Free WordPress themes vs Premium/Paid WP Themes?

Ans: Free WordPress Themes: –

No money required to use.

Quality is up to the mark, as all the free WordPress themes are checked under strict rules and regulations before they allow publishers to upload them.

No Support from developers.

Easy customization.

Easy to use Page Builder tools in them.

Paid WordPress Themes:

Minimum Requirement is $20 for Premium WP theme.

Fully customizable, can modify according to your need.

High-quality themes only.

Full Support from the developer’s side.

Inbuilt page builders in some themes.

I hope You are sure now why to use Free WordPress Themes for your blog business.

So, without any further delay, let’s jump to the main topic of this blog.

7 Best WordPress Themes for Blogs Free

1. GeneratePress: The most trusted free WordPress theme I have ever used. And after using many themes for this blog currently, I am using the GeneratePress theme only.

The best feature of this theme is Speed and it’s lightweight. This is a theme build with a focus on usability and speed.

By looking at the reviews in a given pic you can understand how much users love this theme.

Features of GeneratePress WordPress Theme Demo:

Very less Size: The total size of this theme is 15kb only.

Fast Loading: As size is very less so it loads fast and reduces the loading time of your blog/website.

Compatible with all the major Page Builders like Elementor, Beaver builder etc.

Every plugin like Woocommerce, Yoast SEO and others are easy to install in this theme.

Responsive theme: Can be easily used in mobile, tablet and desktop too without any issues.

9 widget area, micro-data integration, 5 sidebars layout, 5 navigation locations.

These are only some of the features of GeneratePress theme as a demo.

When you will install and customize this theme, you’ll be able to know the advanced features which I have not mentioned here because I want You to personally use this and go through the theme.

Q: How can I install the GeneratePress WordPress Theme on my blog/website?

A: You might be thinking about how to install this theme on my blog. Don’t worry I am here for you. Just follow these simple steps.

There are two ways of How to Install any WordPress theme.

First one, go to WordPress.org

Click on “Theme” section, you will land up in theme section only.

A search box is given there, enter the name of the theme you are looking for.

In the right side of the theme, a download button will be visible to you, click on that button and install.

The theme will be downloaded in .zip format, no need to unzip it, WordPress support zip files too.

Now login to WordPress account, in the left side of dashboard hover on ‘appearance” and click on themes.

On top, of the page click on ‘Add New’.

Steps are almost done…

Just Click on the ‘Upload’ button and select the downloaded file.

And you are done with the installation of free WordPress theme.

Now customize, edit and make changes according to your need.

»The 2nd EASIEST method to Install Free WordPress Theme:

Login to your WordPress Dashboard/Account.

On your left, hover on the ‘appearance’ button.

Now click on’Themes’ button.

On top of the page, click ‘Add New’.  You can look at the images given in the first step.

On the right side of the page, search the name of the theme in the search box.

And the final step is to Click on the ‘Install’ button, congrats theme is downloaded.

So, these were the two steps to Install Free WordPress Themes very quickly.

I just need your review in the comment box after using this theme, so do not forget to do that as it will help other blogger readers like you and me. So, comment and share it.

2. Hueman: Hueman is one of the Best WordPress Themes for Blogs Free which you would love to use instantly.

Hueman theme helps you increase website traffic and engage your visitors easily.

It is the best-rated theme on wordpress.org powering the more than 70K websites around the world.

As you can see in the above pic, this is a theme which many bloggers use for their blog.

This is the inbuilt layout you would see by default, but you can customize it according to your requirement.

Features of Hueman WordPress Theme Demo:

3 Column Layout: When I saw this theme for the first time, the best part I loved was it’s 3 column layout.

Customizable Header and Footer: Edit the header and footer according to your need. Place ads, text code etc.

3+ Widgets in the footer area.

Fast load: It loads very fast because of its small size.

SEO Friendly Theme: Hueman theme is SEO friendly and increases website traffic also.

Q: How to Install Hueman Free WordPress Theme?

A: You can follow the steps given above to install the Free WordPress themes.

Please Visit my Blog: TechnoSaroha

3. ColorMag: ColorMag is a Responsive Free WordPress Theme for bloggers who have blogs in the Technology field, news blog/website, magazines, and even in businesses.

If someone is looking for the Best WordPress Themes for a tech blog, Best WordPress Themes for News/Magazines, and Best WordPress Themes for Affiliate Marketing, you must try this free theme for your blog/business.

Yes, look at the 5-star reviews and the last updated date of these themes. This theme was updated today i.e 24th March 2019.

See, I told you at the beginning of this article that I will be sharing those themes only are up to date and responsive.

And the results are in front of you.

So, move to the remaining 4 Best WordPress Themes for Blog Free.

4. Astra: The modern theme which has bee downloaded more than 200K times and that too with more than a 5-star rating.

I am sure that You can use this theme as an alternative of ColorMag & GeneratePress WP theme.

This theme is just like the all-rounder man, you got it right. Great.

According to Astra, “Astra is a fast, fully customizable & beautiful theme suitable for blog, personal portfolio, business website, and WooCommerce storefront”.

You would not believe that the total size of the Astra Free WordPress Theme is less than 50Kbon the front-end.

Now you can imagine the loading speed you’ll be getting on your blog, blazing fast.

Features of Astra WordPress Theme Demo:

SEO friendly theme.

Schema.org code integrated

AMP ready, means search engines will love your site.

Offers special templates and will work with all page builders like Elementor, Visual Composer and more.

Woocommerce ready, RTL, Translation Ready and yes responsive too.

Even you can analyze by looking at the number of downloads and reviews that this theme is the Best WordPress theme for ecommerce businesses.

But that is totally up to you how you want to use this theme.

5. OceanWP: The Free WordPress Theme for Small Businesses

No doubt, OceanWP is the most downloaded Free WordPress in the last years.

OceanWP is the lightweight, highly extendable theme which allows you to create any type of websites such as a blog, portfolio, business website, and WooCommerce  Storefront.

Like Astra Free WordPress Theme, OceanWP is Premium quality WordPress Theme for Blogs Free.

Q: Why OceanWP is the Best WordPress Theme for Ecommerce businesses?.

A: If you want to run an ecommerce business or any kind of business, You must use this theme.

Because OceanWP, after installation, would suggest you install WooCommerce WordPress Plugin(freemium plugin)

This plugin has many advanced features which can increase the conversion rate much. And OceanWP also supports it like other themes.

Features of OceanWP Free WordPress Theme Demo:

Featured with SEO Best Practices, which increases the visibility of your brand.

Very fast, responsive and Translation ready.

Work with almost all page builders smoothly like Divi, SiteOrigin, Brizy.

You can edit the settings on mobile and tablet so your site looks good on every device.

Small in size, downloaded more than 300K time with a 5-Star rating.

Can be used as Best WordPress theme for Ecommerce, Businesses.

So, download this theme now and start building your dream website in some clicks.

If you will leave a comment after going through the whole article, it will help some readers like you.

If you like my tutorials, visit my blog Techno Saroha

6. Sydney: Free WordPress Theme for Ecommerce Businesses.

The only theme which was built purely for E-commerce businesses. According to Sydney theme developers, it is the Best WordPress Theme for e-commerce businesses.

“Sydney is a powerful business theme that provides a fast way for companies or freelancers to create an awesome online presence”.

Competing with the Astra and OceanWP themes, the number of download for this one is also crossing 200K.

If you build your website/blog with this theme, I’m sure that your website will look more beautiful and professional.

Many businesses grow much faster than their competitors and it has been noticed that their website design was much better than their competitors.

Your focus should be more on design, conversion, call to action buttons. If all these things are synchronized in a better way your Click Through Rate(CTR) will increase automatically.

So using a theme like SYDNEY, you can manage all the things mentioned in upper lines.

Let’s go through the Sydney Free WordPress Theme Demo and features:

Features of Sydney WordPress Theme Demo:

Access to all Google Fonts.

Easy to customize and edit.

Full-Color Control: You can change the colors of this theme according to your need.

Layout Control: Users can add/delete any widgets making it more engaging to users.

Sticky navigation, header image, full-screen slider and much more.

These are some of the main features you should know before installing the theme.

Visit WordPress.org and download this theme, take an overview if you like the interface and other things you can activate this theme.

Here is the last theme I’m going to share with you. If you have read this article till here, you are the one who is seriously looking the Best WordPress Theme for Blogs Free.

That’s Great. Congratulations!

Free WordPress Themes for Portfolios/Freelancers.

7. Hestia: Hestia also made it in the list of Best WordPress Themes for Blogs Free. I must say that Hestia WordPress Theme can be used for making a Portfolio website, for freelancing website.

Hestia is just like the person who have so many skills, and perform better in all the tasks given to him.

Oh, you are also the person who is skilled in many areas.

That’s good. Big shout out to you. LOL

Let’s come back to our topic.

Hestia is a modern WordPress Theme for Professionals. It easily fits with small businesses, ecommerce businesses, startups, online agencies etc.

The best part about Hestia you would love, it has a multipurpose One Page design.

And that means you can do a lot of things on a single page only.

*************************************************************

Features of Free Hestia WordPress Theme Demo:

Footer can have more than 3+ widgets.

Separate Blog/News page

Flat Parallax Slider

Photo Gallery, Travel Map

Very smoothly with various page builders.

SEO Friendly Theme for Blogs

Responsive: It is a responsive WordPress theme.

Retina Ready, Translation ready.

I am pretty sure that after looking at the features of Hestia Theme, you’ll definitely install this and use for your brand/business.

Search this theme on WordPress.org and Install now.

My Final Words about Best WordPress Themes for Blogs Free

See I have told you about Best WordPress Themes for Blogs Free. Now it’s your time to decide which theme is perfect for your blog or online E-commerce Business.

The Best WordPress Themes for Tech Blog are GeneratePress, Hueman, and ColorMag.

Astra, OcenanWP, and Sydney are the Best WordPress Themes for Ecommerce Businesses.

And Hestia Theme is just like an all-rounder for every type of businesses.

You can use Hestia as Best WordPress Theme for Portfolio/Freelance business.

If you want to build a website for your startup, no issue at all. Theme Hestia is just perfect for startups also.

I hope you got all the important information for choosing a Free WordPress Theme.

What are you waiting for?

Write down all the planning on paper and customize WordPress theme according to your planning.

Now you need Fast Website Hosting for storing your website data. Or for making your website live on Google and for your customers.

Choose a fast loading WordPress Hosting so that your customers/ visitors don’t have to wait more than 4 seconds to load your website. If your website is taking more than 5 seconds, you need to fix this because visitors do not wait for more than 5 seconds.

The bad thing is they just click the back button.

And Google is very smart, they keep a close eye on the time taken by your website for loading. And when it takes more than 5-6 second, it negatively affects your website score or SEO score.

Be Smart, Choose Best Web Hosting.

Buy the Best WordPress Hosting: Bluehost Coupon Code

Yeah, I know this is enough information for you.

OK, let’s finish this here.

But…

I think you an attitude of helping peoples.

So show some love here also, comment about the post and Share this article with your friends, relatives who might be in need of Best WordPress Themes for Blogs Free.

Do not forget to read more blogs like this, visit TechnoSaroha

[whistlepen]

hello!! i hope you are having a lovely day

hey ceci! my day’s alright, thank you. i hope yours is too :) and ok i relate i love this url a lot too ok i think it’s my favorite ever

URLdo i get it? yes | maybe? | no, sorrylength: a little too short | just right | a little too longoverall: 100/10

ICONdo i get it? yes | maybe? | no | selfiecolor: a little too bright | just right | a little too darkoverall: 10/10

THEMEit is: a little empty | just right | a little crowdednavi: perfect | ok | hard to get aroundupdates: amazing | ok | not the bestcolors: beautiful | ok | not the bestoverall: 7/10

MOBILE THEMEheader: perfect | ok | not the bestcolors: beautiful | ok | not the besttitle: love it | ok | not the best (is this about me tho)overall: 8/10

CONTENTfandoms: exact same | we share some | idk any (yours is all sh so)posts: the best | good | ok | not my thingoverall: 11/10

EXTRAcomment: i literally love your blog so much?? honestly what a Good i can’t believe you actually followed me back tbh like i’m sorry about everything you’ve seen here but thank you bless you and also you seem like an incredibly nice personfollowing: no, sorry | f+ | yes ofc! | forever & alwaysoverall: 11/10

want one? :)

blacklist ‘marta rates’ to hide these

[maeosis]

#4

Happy 2017!

A new year dawns upon us all over again. I expected it to be magical, you know with a spectacular firework show and maybe even a New Years Kiss. None of the either happened but I, however did have a splendid time bar hopping between town. It was magical in a sense, that I was brought to Berlin, experiencing the verbose and loud culture of punk rock on its walls and somehow, even old Hollywood. Then, two train stations and an Uber ride away, a flattering time of changing out of 6 inch heels and wishing our driver a happy, happy new year, we scurried off to a quieter bar, where the music was loud and the crowd was just there in the background, drinking and smoking their way into the new year. Then, the 15 of us walked down the hill to an extremely crowded bar, where everybody was so close together, it could have been an orgy. We danced our way around the club and a minute before the new year came we all rushed down, thinking we could catch the fireworks, but boy-oh-boy did we think we would see any fireworks. Nevertheless, it was an experience to keep with me, my 19th year of living, getting slightly drunk moving into a new year. We continued to dance through the night till 2.30 in the morning and we left the bar. I also noticed a cute guy with a bandana and apparently a dog tag too! And he was cute! So, that’s that. My new years started off with not so much of a bang but I was so glad I could do it with my friends.

When I started this side blog, my main intention was to share my life experiences while simultaneously helping myself and everyone out there, to learn from my mistakes and make better choices. I loved the idea so much. But the truth is, I also started this blog to write about love, be it from my own self, my friends and a significant other. Love is something I believe in. I thought I lost it in the middle of last year, together with it, my ability to channel my feelings through writing. But the fact that I’ve moved into a new year gives me hope that maybe there is love for me out there. I know, that I am so very dearly loved by my friends. My soul mates are my friends and that is such a beautiful realization for me. I learnt that watching Sex and The City, that episode being a very mind opening one. It taught me that above everything that you might think that matters, the bond you have with your closest friends/best friends is the best thing in life. I can’t deny it. I let the idea roll around in my head for some time and it made me thankful that I am friends with the people I am with today. They are my family and they are my home, my laughter, my tears, my insecurities and above all, the loves of my lives.

Before the year ended, I watched a ridiculous movie called Bride Wars which starred Anne Hathaway and Kate Hudson. I am thankful for movies like that because it highlights the fact that no matter what, you and your best friend will always be there for each other, be it for the best or the worst. My friends gave me a reason to live my life, sometimes with a little caution, but I really am on a high-roll because of them. This morning I got up and found an email from my best friend entitled “9th August ’16 bullshit on 1st jan ’17 cause’ why not”. It was a birthday note from last year and it was six pages long. The header read “ somewhere in mid July” and it was the most intimate , heartfelt letter I have ever received in a very long time ( he’s the only one who can beat himself at sending heartfelt letters, messages or notes to anyone of his friends)  There were beautiful quotes from movies I’ve watched through the whole of last year for the first time and quotes from people I’ve never heard of. It was so beautiful really, you’d have to read it to know. The letter was a beacon of hope for my entering the New Year. It made me cry three times and I was so touched. I then had it printed out and now, its in a black box where I store anything remotely memorable to me.

As I end this little type out of  my current experiences, all I ask is to treasure your friends so very much. Cherish them for the good, go through the bad and laugh all the time (even if it makes you look like crazy people) Nothing could be as magical as it is without them. Some people might argue that family comes before friends, but in my case, someone who feels like an outsider in their own family, I made a home with my friends and that is the best thing I have accomplished after 19 years of living. Happy New Year everyone and have a splendid year ahead.

                                                                                           Lots of Love, xx

[unifiedsocialblog]

Writing for Social Media: 7 Tips and Tools

There’s loads of great articles about writing, including writing for social media.

Maybe this will become one of them. Whatever.

However, this piece is different.

You’ll see.

Bonus: Get the step-by-step social media strategy guide with pro tips on how to grow your social media presence.

7 writing tips for social media

…and for any kind of persuasive writing.

Sure, great writing may take talent and innate creativity. And hey, you’ve got something to say, right? No matter your current level of experience or skills. With a little gusto in your writing step, you can make the reader feel something, take an action, or be more informed than before.

A few tips below to show you how.

Suggestion: let loose, try some (or all) of these, and repeat them for a few of your posts. Build those new writing-muscles.

You’ll be amazed at how clear you’ll write, and how you’ll zero-in on your voice.

1. Barf it out

Writers block is a myth. if you wanna balst past it just write out anything in your head, without leaving teh keybord. just keep your fingers typing, looking at the keyboard not the screen, so your brain engages. forget about sentence structure, spelling, punctuation… just keep your fingers moving and p[ower through any blockages. do this for an articel, tech-doc, and kind of writing thingie. Even for a paragraph or three. whenever your stuck just typw. editing will come later. This is a brain excercise, not a make-it-look-just-right process. Editing comes later, but don’t mix the two. It’s never write the first time. but push stuff that’s in your head onto the page, then mnake your 4 or 5 or 6 or 7 edits…. LATER.

Okay, I’m back.

Whenever, I’m ‘stuck’, for any kind of writing… I just type. Every time, something useful appears before my writing-eyes-and-brain.

The same will happen to you, too.

Punch the so-called “writer’s block” right in the gut. It’s bunk.

2. Write to an 8th grader

Not because they are dumb. Because it forces you to write clearly. And to ditch the jargon and terms that eyeballs just gloss over.

“Drive innovation.”

“Become a disruptor.”

And my absolute non-favorite, “Transform your business…”.

Oh please. Some of the most over-used, under-effective statements of all time.

Companies and their writers hide behind these terms every day, all across the web. Statistically speaking, probably you, too. I’m just sayin’.

I don’t know if this intentional or not. But here’s the thing…

Terms and jargon say little, while making you and your biz appear as a commodity. Like many others. Better to do the heavy lifting for the reader. Because they certainly won’t. They’ll stop and leave, versus stay and scroll.

Do the work. Say something real. Practice on your kid, mom, or any outsider to tell your important and useful message.

Your readers will appreciate it. It makes good business sense.

3. Write to the reader

Because no one cares about what you (or I) do. Readers only care what they can get from what you (or I) do.

So then, write from the readers’ perspective. Make them the hero.

A list of features? B-o-r-i-n-g.

Words that paint a picture for how the reader’s life will improve, that’s the ticket.

Sometimes, “standing out” is nothing more than writing from the reader’s point of view. Because most of your competitors don’t.

4. Write with a purpose

And write that purpose at the top of your draft piece.

To keep your mind on the target while you write.

For an email, blog post, white paper, and of course for any social media post—be clear on the purpose.

What action do you want the reader to take?

Click the buy, call, or contact us button?

Or maybe you just want them to feel a certain way. Empathy? Bliss? Informed?

Too often, we humans write to write. Not a problem.

Unless you want to sell your stuff.

Social posts are usually a top-of-mind selling approach. And an opportunity to build, show, and share your brand.

And still, write with a purpose to raise your signal, lessen your noise.

Hey, don’t forget to delete the purpose reminder at the top of your draft.

5. Write to make the reader feel successful

Which is hard to do when reading long paragraphs, without breaks—like single lines and bolded lines.

Lead your reader down the page by breaking up your message.

Short paragraphs. Short sentences. Transition lines. Bullets. Some bolded items, too. Like this one…

Allowing your readers to skim and scan your message is nice.

It helps them feel a series of successes as they move down the page.

The more they read, the more they understand.

Good for everyone, right?

Oh yeah, and questions are good too. They encourage the reader to ‘lean in’, with interest.

What are you doing to help your readers scroll down the page?

Maybe I’ve overdone the short paragraphs in this post. Maybe not. Part of the just-try-it-and-see-for-yourself model. Better ‘too much’ than ‘too little’. You can dial it down later.

6. Write with a hyper-focus

…and with a tomato.

What the…?

Stay with me.

Too often, we look at a piece of work and think, ‘Ah man, I need a bunch of time to do this post.’

There’s a better way.

By defining and going after a small section or piece of your post, document or whatever you’re writing. Right now. Say, in the 15 minutes before your next meeting.

Define a small portion to write (I’m doing this right now for this single section)

Set a tomato timer, that you can hear going tick-tock-tick-tock

Barf it out (like we talked about above)

Make your edits

Finí

Go to your meeting

Progress made. Feels good.

I wrote this section in 17 minutes. You can, too. String a bunch more of these together to complete your writing, iteratively. Without feeling like you have to set aside a load of time in one or two sittings.

I love the Pomodoro Technique for getting anything done with a hyper-focus.

7. Use pictures to enhance the words

I’m not going to say much about this.

Of course, pictures enhance the words.

This piece is about the words.

I don’t want to leave you hanging though. Here’s one of a thousand good reads about adding pictures to your work.

7 writing tools for social media

Opinion: writing for social media is fun. Those writing tips and tricks help me enjoy the process. And so do these writing tools.

1. Session buddy (Chrome extension)

Good for: Reducing browser clutter by restoring windows and tabs for your writing project. In seconds. Cost: Free.

When writing, I usually do web searches to find related content or topics. These often become input into my writing piece. I arrange browser instances and tabs within each instance. Then, place them carefully on the screen to move around as needed.

Now, say I need to work on something else. Fine:

Click on the session buddy icon, in the Chrome toolbar

Name and save the session

Close the all the windows

Now you’re ready for action on a new task. Distraction free. Without any browser clutter.

Then, when it’s time to resume that project:

Click on the session buddy icon

Select and open the named session

Everything like before, instantly

Here’s a list of alternatives. Try and use what works for you.

Bonus: Get the step-by-step social media strategy guide with pro tips on how to grow your social media presence.

Get the free guide right now!

2. Hemingway app

Good for: Writing anything succinctly and clearly. Cost: Free online, $19.99 for the desktop app.

Hemingway app will make you a better writer. Period.

That whole jargon thing I complain about, it all goes away when you write like Ernest did.

Same for long sentences, unnecessary adverbs, superlative adjectives, and passive phrases. And, with hints for alternatives.

Write what you write

Paste it into Hemingway app

Visually see what works, what doesn’t

Make your changes, to do more of what does work

Paste back into your writing piece

Use Hemingway app often to build your writing skills. After a bit you’ll need it less. Though I still use it often to keep me in check. An amazing tool.

3. Markdown

Good for: Writing an easy-to-read, easy-to-write plain text format, then convert it to HTML. Cost: Depends. There’s a load of editors to write your markdown. Some are free, others cost. But not much.

Markdown allows you to write plain text for nearly all your writing projects. Find and choose a Markdown editor, for Windows, Mac or web.

Word, Google Docs, and the others of that same ilk? Oh please.

Feature bloat, complex to use, and limited to a tool. No thanks.

Markdown just works. With a simple WYSIWYG editor for headers, bolding, italics, bullets, highlight, horizontal dividers, and quotes.

Who needs more than that?

And, instantly convert your work to HTML to post on any platform, using their already-in-place CSS formatting.

In other words… you write text, export as HTML, publish anywhere.

Not sold?

Fine, try it out on your next writing piece. Easy to learn, even easier to use.

Markdown is the only way I write nowadays. Be careful, the same might happen to you. If you’re lucky.

4. ZenPen

Good for: Distraction free writing. Cost: Free.

There’s plenty of clutter in life. ZenPen is one small corner of the distraction-free-universe to help you write without outside interference.

Go to zenpen.io

Type and write

Copy and paste, or download (via markdown, plain text, or html)

Do something beautiful with your new Pulitzer-prize-like content

5. Grammarly

Good for: Making your writing clear, effective, and correct. Cost: Free online

Grammarly promises to keep your social posts on point. It will flag everything from contextual spelling errors to poor word choices. And, the tool integrates with lots of online platforms, including Twitter, Gmail, and Tumblr.

I make up words all the time, and misspell others. Not always a bad thing for getting people’s attention. As long as one is intentional about it.

Use Grammarly to convert the unintentional to the intentional.

6. Pomodoro Technique

Good for: Staying focused, for writing or anything else. Cost: Depends on the specific timer tool you choose. Loads of free ones.

I know, I already mentioned this.

It’s worth another mention.

The Pomodoro Technique is a time management method developed by Francesco Cirillo in the late 1980s. It uses a timer to break down work into 25 minute intervals (usually), separated by short breaks. Each interval is known as a pomodoro (Italian for tomato).

Cute, huh?

But Pomodoro is more than cute for getting s&$% done.

I use it all over the place, especially when writing:

Define a section or two to write

Set the timer (for 25 minutes)

Work until it rings (and only on that task)

Put down a checkmark on a piece of paper

Take a short break

Lather, rinse, repeat

Works as a good tracker, too. For instance, four checkmarks = about two hours for the completed effort.

I use an online Pomodoro timer that makes an obvious tick-tock (a kitchen timer works great, too). My wife knows not to interrupt me when in this highly-focused state.

As long as I follow up with her about the ever growing to-do list she came to me for.

7. Dropbox Paper

Good for: Writing and collaborating with others. Cost: Free for the individual or small business. It costs for the enterprise.

Dropbox paper is my main writing, editing, and collaboration tool. Clients dig it, too. I teach them how to use it in one minute.

It looks and reads beautiful

Super-duper easy to write, distraction free (with a simple toolbar that pops up only when text is highlighted)

Works as web content editor, versus a document editor (who needs line breaks anymore?)

Write together with others, real-time

Alert your mates, immediately, with comments off to the side

Export and download in the common formats to publish elsewhere

Not much more to say. Try it yourself. I dare you.

Compose, schedule, and publish your expertly written posts to all the major social media channels—including Instagram—from one dashboard using Hootsuite. Try it free today. 

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