#yagi toshinori x you

[actuallysaiyan]

Always With Me(Dragon!Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

warnings: angst, Dragon AU, mentions of wounds, scars, blood, love confessions, sadness

word count: 1.6k

pairings: Dragon!Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader

summary: you go out into that field from time to time, but today is the day that the dragon comes to you. why does he seem so familiar?

a/n: very very inspired by Spirited Away. I recently gave it a rewatch and I was just blown away. a part 2 of this will come eventually! Big thanks to @cherryblossombankai!

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist: @thissaintjessi.  @cherryblossombankai, @thestarsystemsworld @pixelcafe-network

@thoraeth

The sky is so blue, it’s almost blinding. The grass beneath your feet feels so comforting. When was the last time you felt like this? When was the last time you found yourself feeling happy once again? Why couldn’t you just do this all the time?

There you stood, alone in the field, looking up at the clouds in the sky. You watch as a shimmer of gold appears in your vision. You aren’t sure what it is, as it is too far away, but something about it makes your heart skip a beat. You’re desperate to chase after it. It’s like it’s calling out your name.

You begin running towards the golden shimmer. Your eyes widen when you see the majestic sight in front of you. High up in the sky is a beautiful slinky dragon. It floats in the clouds, looking like it’s trying to find peace by just flying in the sky.

When it notices you, it comes down fast. The dragon headbutts into you, making a happy little yelping noise. Your heart flutters at the sweet affection. There’s this deep feeling there that you don’t know where it's from, but you won’t question it. Gently, you begin to pet the fur on the top of the dragon’s head.

“Hello there, sunbeam.” You affectionately give it a nickname.

The dragon seems to be almost smiling. You begin to pet it, longing to feel the cool scales on your skin. You gasp as you feel a part where the scales are missing. The dragon pulls away, almost ashamed of what just happened.

You look at the scar on the dragon’s body. It almost seems to be in the shape of a flower. It’s trying to hide it from you, trying to keep the scar hidden. But it’s much too late. You’ve seen it. You try to move closer, but the dragon hisses at you.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…I…”

But you’re at a loss for words. How could you ever come up with an excuse for this? This is clearly a large source of shame for the dragon. It begins to fly up in the sky, and then soon shoots off and leaves you behind. A big sadness fills you completely, overwhelming all your senses.

You want to reach up, and fly high. You want to be able to be with the dragon. You’re almost certain that you must have dreamt this encounter, but you didn’t. It was real and the dragon was real and now you’re sad…no, you are devastated that it’s gone.

All because you touched the scar.

Tears sting your eyes as you look up at the sky for a sign of the dragon. You try calling out but your voice gets stuck in your throat. He’s gone and you don’t know if he’ll ever return.

Your heart hurts. It longs for something you can’t have. You finally gather your breath and you scream. You scream and cry, wanting him to return. But after a few minutes, you collapse to your knees and you begin to sob. How could the dragon just leave?

After a while, you gather yourself up and you leave the field. You go back down the winding path you took to get here, feeling a sense of loneliness and longing invading your every fibre. With every step you take into the dark forest, you feel like there’s a part of you that’s crumbling away.

That night, you have the most vivid dreams of being on the dragon’s back. You hold onto him tightly. There’s a soft giggle that erupts from you as he dives down closer to the ground, only to fly back up towards the clouds. It’s such a rush of adrenaline to feel the wind whipping around you like this.

But it leaves you cold and empty once more as you wake up. You’re drenched in sweat, wondering if you’ll ever get over this sensation. The feeling of love and acceptance may never come to be when you’re longing to be with the dragon once more.

It’s weeks before you can head back into the empty field that’s connected to the forest behind your home. You keep dreaming about the dragon. You wonder if there’s some sort of link between you and him. You want to be near him, so desperately.

You sit on a blanket and you place the basket nearby. If he won’t come to you, perhaps you can still enjoy the peaceful afternoon with a picnic. The sun is bright but it’s not too hot. You lay back, looking up at the clouds. Where is he? You wonder if maybe he’s sensed these feelings too.

And just when you’re about to give up hope, you see the golden shimmer once more. It begins to fly towards you, and you notice something off about it. The closer it gets, the more you realize he’s bleeding. 

The dragon crashes down not too far from where you’re sitting, prompting you to rush over. It moans in pain, thrashing about as the bleeding continues. Slowly and carefully, you approach him. The dragon spots you, and you can see tears in his eyes.

“Don’t go! Let me help!”

Your words reach him this time. He allows you to inspect him and you notice that the scar is irritated. The bleeding is coming from there. You shudder as you press your hand on it. Applying pressure to the wound, you are desperate to stop the bleeding.

“I won’t…I won’t let you bleed out. No…I’m here.”

The dragon lets out a sad huff. It lays its head on your lap, tears sliding down its cheeks. With one hand, you keep pressure on the wound. With the other, you begin to pet him. There’s this magnetism going on between you two. Almost as if you two have met before, even longer than just a few weeks ago. There are memories there that you cannot pinpoint, but they flash by in your mind.

The knowledge of how you came to know this dragon, it’s all there. When you were a child, that dragon was there with you. The lonely childhood you had was less lonely because this dragon played with you. It helped shape you into the human you are now.

Tears slide down your cheeks now as you see the crimson blood staining your hand. You’re not sure you can stop the bleeding. But you won’t abandon him. This is the one creature in this world that has cared for you for so long, and now it’s all coming back to you.

“It was you,” you say as you nuzzle your face in his fur. “You’ve been with me this whole time. And I’m not going anywhere! I’m not going to abandon you when you need me most.”

You kiss his snout, your tears dripping down onto his face. You keep your hand on the wound, wishing for him to stop bleeding. The dragon cries with you, then lets out a soft roar. The sound is almost comforting in its own right. Your heart aches, you feel like maybe this is goodbye.

“Please,” you beg. “Please don’t leave me. It feels like we’ve only just met once again. Please.”

The sound of your voice warms him up. He rubs his snout against your face, letting out a very soft growl. You kiss his snout once more, then you focus on the wound. You press both hands on the wound.

“I love you,” you finally say. “This whole time, my whole life…you’re the only one who’s been there for me. I don’t know why I lost my memories of you, but now that you’re here with me again, I’m not going to lose you!”

The declaration of love makes him feel so warm inside. You notice how there’s a shining light beneath your hands. You slowly peel them back to show that the bleeding has stopped. Your hands are stained with a golden liquid. No longer is it crimson. 

Then there’s a blinding light that flashes before your very eyes. You shield them from the light, turning away. When everything settles, you look over at where the dragon was. In its place, it’s now a very tall and lanky man. There’s still the golden liquid coming from him, but it has slowed to almost a stop.

He reaches for you, a soft smile on his face. You lean in closer, a laugh of disbelief coming from you. He holds onto you tightly, his long blond hair tickling your face.

“It’s always been you. You’re the one…my one and only.” He whispers softly. “And now that you’ve shown me true love…”

He hiccups softly as he tries to hold back the tears. Both of you are trying to stop crying, but it’s so difficult when all these emotions come bubbling up. Finally, you just lean in and kiss his lips. 

The wind blows around you both, making you shiver. Toshinori wraps his arms around you a little more tightly, rubbing your exposed skin. Then he rubs his nose against yours, smiling softly.

“It’s always been you.” He says again.

“I won’t ever leave you,” you tell him.

He brings you to rest on his chest carefully. You’ve noticed how the golden liquid has turned back to a crimson color. He’s no longer bleeding, but you will tend to him again. You’ll tend to him when you both overcome these strong emotions that are making you feel so overwhelmed.

“I love you too,” he whispers in your ear.

And in that very moment, everything feels right again.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[geeks-universe]

@ladylemon27 : Hey! Could you make a head-cannon for All Might having a secret family with a loving wife reader?^^

[Not me actually working on an All Might x Reader fic rn actively writing the part where he finds out his wife is pregnant 🤠]

For years, in interviews and on forums, people have wondered about All Might’s love life. He was, after all, the most desirable man in Japan, maybe even the world.

Before you met him, you’d been a little bit curious. After your first encounter during a particularly brutal fight with a villain, your curiosity had died down. (Mostly because he was an absolute dork who had stumbled over his words in an attempt to flirt.)

It seemed fate wanted the two of you to meet again and again, as nearly half of all fights you’d gotten into with villains were interrupted by the boisterous laughter of one Symbol of Peace. Years later, Toshi would admit that he’d definitely been maybe keeping a specific eye out for any mention of you, in hopes of working up the courage to ask you on a date. You’d fallen even more in love with him when he told you.

It only took a dozen or so meetings before he finally asked. You’d laughed- only because the idea that the number one hero wanted to date you of all people was absurd- before the dejected look on his face had you explaining your thoughts. He’d been so quick to assure you, to tell you how highly he thought of you, that how could you ever say no to a date now?

Your relationship blossomed from there. One date turned to two turned to nearly everyday. Before you knew it, you were engaged. The wedding was a beautiful ode to your love, even if it was all done in secret.

You found out you were pregnant three days after Toshi had been gravely injured in his fight with All for One. Those initial days had been hell, the threat of death nearly constant. You’d been by his side every second of every day, and it wasn’t until you’d quite literally fainted on the third day from a mix of exhaustion and the unknown pregnancy, that the doctors had discovered the little miracle growing inside you.

You didn’t tell Toshi until weeks later, once he was no longer critical and the likelihood of him dying had passed. He’d been so concerned at first, and then overjoyed.

Life after his injury had looked different, but was no less full of love. He’d held you a little closer, his kisses lingered a little longer, but he was still the same heroic man he’d always been, even if his self-confidence stumbled some days. He took to calling you his pillar then, beyond thankful of the support you gave him everyday.

When your little miracle arrived- a little boy who looked damn near identical to Toshi- he had cried harder than he’d ever in his life. He held you to his chest, staring down at the tiny life you’d created together. He’d made a promise then, that Sir Nighteye couldn’t be right, that he would live a long life, if only to see his son grow into a man that would make you proud.

[champion-prism]

Disciplined and determined though he is, the same passionate emotions that made him create so many rules for himself are what make him break those rules.

Toshi falls so hard for you. He's in his thirties, he's spent a good decade on top of the charts without so much as glancing around at a woman, until you.

You, young and sweet and so naive, he just wants to fucking ruin you.

You're young, in your early twenties? With no delusions about possibly attracting All Might, Number One Hero and absolute model of saintly goodness. It keeps your little crush on him innocent, it keeps your behaviour polite and unentitled. You don't know how intently he stares at you when you're not looking. You don't know how carefully he orchestrates it so that he "just happens" to run into you while you're walking home. You don't know that when he's home at night, he jerks himself off to pictures of you.

Strictly speaking, its supposed to stay that way. He's All Might, and his self imposed celibacy is as important to maintaining his hero image as fighting crime is. But everytime you bite your pretty lips in nervousness around him, Toshinori comes one step closer to breaking every rule in his rulebook just to have you.

[dpr-stay]

Mandated Reporter Pt.1 | Y.T

All Might | Yagi Toshinori X Reader

Heyyy, guys remember me...? It's not like I haven't posted a fic since *checks history* January or anythign haha lol right? Anyways this was kinda a distraction from my magnum opus but it started getting too long to publish as a one-shot in good faith. So parts LOL. already on ao3, so yeh. sorry if you followed me for F1

WC: ~2700

Warnings: Swears probs, just fluff, soulmate au hehehheheh, idiots in love *sighs dreamily*

Charles Darwin, way back in the year 1859, published his book On the Origin of Species. He was laughed and jeered at when he presented his book, as the theory he had written on the pages differed significantly from the common ideas at the time. No one really wanted to look at the apes that they kept in zoos and find themselves reflected in their eyes. 

He presented many ideas in his writing, natural selection being one you may have heard. However, one you may not be so familiar with if you didn’t take biology in highschool would be the idea of variation (or speciation for you nerds) when faced with an extinction event. 

The two main types of variation that occurred in human beings as we know them in the modern day are the development of quirks and the recognition of soulmates. The extinction events that preceded these variations are still not known, perhaps Mr Darwin was wrong in these specific cases, but the reaches of these variations stretched across the world and revamped the meaning of normal.

In modern Japan, soulmates were almost a taboo topic. Not only did some people not have soulmate’s but the way that people found their soulmates varied, from timers to marks, or even visions. Asking a person how they would meet their soulmate, soon came to be seen as a flirting tactic instead of just genuine curiosity. Because asking if someone has a destined partner can easily be interpreted as wishing that the partner was yourself.

You, personally, had never asked anyone how they were going to meet their soulmate. You found no need to. You would 100% know who they were when you would meet your soulmate. You didn’t mean to sound egotistical or presumptuous, but you would definitely know.Your soulmate ‘marker’ came in the form of words inscribed upon your wrist, written out in mildly scratchy handwriting which was thankfully legible. 

And if you see this criminal or know anything about him, call 1800-XXX-XXX-XXX to give information into the anonymous tipline!

At first, when you read it, you were a bit confused. You knew to some degree it was your soulmate marking, but you didn’t know how it applied to a real life situation. Was it the first thing they heard on the radio? Would it be in the background the first time you’d meet?

Your parents were also confused. They first tried the number, but it hadn’t been registered to any tipline at the time they tried. So they took little 5-year-old you to a so-called ‘Soulmate Specialist.’

At first you had thought it would be like a stereotypical curtained tent, with a lady perched over a crystal ball. But when you arrived, it just looked like a normal hospital clinic. Your mother held your hand as you trailed behind her. 

In a small room down a hallway, you sat on a cushioned bench as a nice-looking lady walked in, exchanged a few words with your mother, and then touched your knee. You watched as she leaned back, her facial expression only able to be described as puzzled, before saying,

“First Words.” You had immediately looked at your wrist. You had read the words again and a slight feeling of disappointment panged in your heart. 

Later, sitting at a table in a small ice-cream store, licking lemon sorbet till you got a brain freeze, your parents tried to come up with scenarios where you would meet your soulmate. Your dad suggested you would meet him during a town meeting (which caused both you and your mum to look at him funny, because who went to town meetings?), whilst your mum suggested that maybe he would be a police officer on the street chasing down a baddie and yelling it out as he went (You giggled at that).

As you grew up, everyone else who you showed it to grew confused as well. It wasn’t exactly something that you’d expect to be the thing bonding two soulmates together. It wasn’t romantic, it didn’t imply any sort of attraction, and you began to get disheartened as you saw the ways your friends met their soulmates.

It seemed each time your friend group got together, another friend would bring in their soulmate, talking about shared marks, oh so lovingly placing the marks against each other right in your eye-line, or finally seeing colour, saying while staring directly at their pair. It started to get at you, the instant connection the pairs would feel, while you were left with a phone number, which only started to work when you turned 18.

(When you first rang the number and it went through, elation took over your body. You stood up and did a little dance as you immediately started speaking into the phone, hoping to find anybody that could help you in your search for your soulmate. You only stopped talking, and dancing, when you noticed that the call was automatic and that you were talking to a robot. The call ended when you realised that they had also recorded it.)

Whenever you felt yourself feeling particularly down, you’d look back to your arm, and see the words engraved. At least you did have a soulmate, you consoled yourself, and at least the words seemed neutral instead of belligerent.

One thing, though, your friends all seemed to agree on was that your mum was right: your soulmate was a police officer. Why else would the number send you to a police tip-line, and why else would he be promoting a tip-line. It made the most sense to you as well. When this solidified properly in your mind, you decided to do everything you possibly could to meet your soulmate. 

It seemed as though they were speaking out as a plea, perhaps outside a police station or on the news to spread awareness of whatever crime this criminal had perpetrated. And so, you began to become a news fanatic.

You’d always tune into the six o’clock news, holding out hope that maybe some sort of crime had been committed that warranted some sort of appeal to the public. It wasn’t that you wanted someone to suffer, you had to reason with yourself, it was just that you wanted to know who your pair was. 

Whenever a crime was committed, you always kept your eyes peeled to the news report, hoping for some sort of plea to the public. Alas, the words were always similar but never quite right. News anchors and police officers always recited from a consistent script about each different offender, never varying no matter how much you wanted to.

Soon, whenever you had a free day, sometimes you’d head to police press conferences. You had a nice camera, that your mum had given you under the pretense of photography and wanting you to expand on hobbies, that you used to justify being a member of the press in order to sneak into the conferences. You’d occasionally take photos while waiting for the police to discuss the details of whatever case they were dealing with, and you always looked right at the speaker whenever they’d come close to saying the lines, before leaving disappointed.

After asserting that your soulmate was most likely a police officer, you also took to walking past the station on your way back home from work every night. Not only was it safer, but it also gave you a chance to listen to the officers standing outside of the station, chatting amongst themselves. You’d often overhear some of their discussions about criminals, but there was never anyone out the front advocating for people to ring their tipline.

Tonight was almost the same as every other night. You’d gotten off work particularly late, rushing from the elevator of your office to the entrance. You pushed through the glass doors, turning to wave to the receptionist. The night air was chilly, but the streets were alive with office workers such as yourself. 

You eyed the takoyaki stall across the street, and reasoned that you were already late to go home, but you then saw the line of half-dead employees stretching from the stall down the corner of the block and quickly shrugged the notion off. You still wanted to try and catch the 9 o’clock news after all.

You weren’t allowed to check any sort of non-work related device or website during the day, so you had no way to see if any criminals were being searched for or if any press conferences were being held. As such you always tried to catch some iteration of the news on the TV at home, if only to remain informed. 

As soon as you turned, you started speed walking home. Living only a couple minutes from your job sometimes had its advantages, as it meant you didn’t have to walk a long way in the dark, only like a kilometer. If you kept up with your fast pace, you’d pass the police station in two minutes and reach your home in five.

You reached the station and slowed down a little, trying to peak inside. The place seemed relatively dead when you glanced at it, only seeing the glowing reflections of the lights within. Only a couple officers were in and you breathed in sympathy as you saw the stacks of paperwork they had before turning and continuing on.

In five minutes (you were right), you arrived at your apartment building. You quickly scampered up the stairs, taking almost three at a time, before jetting to your door and unlocking it. You had the TV on in twenty seconds, just in time for the evening reporter to begin rambling on about the events of the day.

As she spoke, you began to unwind. You changed into pyjamas from your business attire as she told a story about a bank robbery, you were cooking instant ramen as she recounted an announcement the governmental opposition made, and you had just sat down on the couch as she began a report about the newest criminal who was taken down by a team of pro-heros and All Might.

You slurped your noodles as you watched intently. Despite being quirkless yourself, you were not immune to the charms and draws of the luxurious pro-hero life. You weren’t stupid, you knew it wasn’t all glitz and glam, you’d seen plenty of videos surrounding the harsh conditions that heroes had to go through and the mental tax that it took on them. Even now, watching All Might beat the shit out of a guy while yelling “SMASH” and random US state names, you cringed whenever the other guy got a punch in. But still, the galas and large amounts of money coming in sure sweetened the deal a fair lot.

You looked around your meager apartment and snorted. If only you had a quirk as flashy as All Might’s, that way you might’ve been able to live a life that wasn’t just above the Japanese poverty line.

The TV flashed pictures of the guy the heroes had fought and you whistled under your breath. He looked tough, almost like a shark with the way his teeth were pointed but scarier with the way his hands were literal chainsaws. As you listened more, you realised that they hadn’t actually ‘taken him down’, they’d just secured the people he was holding hostage and All Might had beaten him so badly he wasn’t able to walk (yeesh). But apparently they’d put the cuffs on him but then he just faded away, which definitely didn’t seem like something a guy with chainsaws for hands could have attributed to his own quirk.

That was definitely something you’d be thinking about tomorrow as you walked home from work, the fact that chainsaw hands could pop out and saw any of your limbs off and then be teleported away before you could even see him. You shuddered at the thought.

The TV quickly changed to show a live news conference and you perked up in your seat, leaning forward to see who was in the line-up of speakers and see if you could identify any of them. The news channel had joined in towards the end of the conference, one police officer speaking about the dangers of the man and the crimes he had committed. 

He went on for a while, so you sort of zoned out, but your attention was quickly caught again when All Might stepped up to the podium to speak into the microphone, which was strange as you’d never seen him stick around for a conference.

In your attempts to be up-to-date and to make sure that you’d never miss a call-to-action anywhere, you’d encountered plenty of news stories about All Might. He was the symbol of peace, so it was only normal that he often was the one to round up the villains that the numerous press conferences were about.

You’d always admired him, it was hard not to, but you never really thought all too much about him. I mean yeah, he was always there to save the day, but you’d never been in a spot where you’d needed him. You knew he was exceptionally popular amongst, well, everyone, but honestly he was kind of just another hero to you. 

One thing that did make him stand out, and justified to you the cult-following he had, was his attitude. He took the symbol of peace schtick seriously, and was always smiling and ready to help people no matter the personal sacrifice he endured. He earned your respect through that. 

He was also kind of hot. He was definitely conventionally attractive, but you’d always kind of thought he was hot in the way that he was always someone to rely on. You don’t know, you’d always kind of liked the scrawny boys better, blame it on your issues.

When All Might finally spoke into the microphone, he essentially repeated what the police officer before him had. You sort of rolled your eyes in a ‘get on with it’ way. You could tell the news was about to cut back to their broadcasting from the live conference so you waited for him to finish his statement while mentally scrolling through your shopping list.

Leaning back into your sofa, you watched as he paused for a second before shooting his eyes up to the camera and lifting one commanding finger to point at the lens before speaking.

“And if you see this criminal or know anything about him, call 1800-XXX-XXX-XXX to give information into the anonymous tipline!”

You blinked. Then you promptly spilled your boiling ramen over your lap as you dropped the bowl. Pain immediately shot through your senses, causing you to curse and look down to your lap.

All Might released some sort of pained noise, causing you to look up and see him grab his wrist on the TV. Your jaw dropped. A female anchor’s face appeared on the screen and you cursed again, quickly looking back to the inflamed skin on your lap. You rushed to the shower, turning the tap onto cold water and sitting down as it rained onto your pyjama bottoms.

You titled your head back before it banged against the glass of your shower door. Had you just hallucinated that? No fucking way right? There was no literal way your soulmate was All Might? Like the actual All Might. Like always smiling, strong as fuck, number one hero All Might.

What the fuck. You had to have been wrong.

You looked down to your wrist, raising your sleeve up to read the words again. Something had changed. Instead of the words being outlined in a sort of dark purple that complimented your skin tone, they had changed to a light lilac. Your jaw dropped again.

What the hell? One of your fingers traced the writing as you groaned. There was no literal way your soulmate was All Might. It was impossible.

You opened your eyes to look up at the shower head, watching as the water poured down.

There was no literal way that he could be your soulmate because All Might, even since the early days of his career before he was known for being the number one hero, had been known to be one of the few public figures who was incredibly vocal about being soulmate-less. 

so how'd we feel? I do like a bit of crack, if you hadn't picked it up yet.

also she's unedited, but it's me, so it's no surprise.

[whirlybirbs]

— BRUISED EGO ; PART ONE ; TOSHINORI YAGI ; 俊典

summary: you & toshinori have a great working relationship. all might is like a mentor. a great guy. a real, stand-up dude. a hero who inevitably has to help you deal with the side-effects of being hit with a love quirk. pairing: younger!toshinori yagi / f!reader ; hero name: derecho word count: 3.6k of pure smut tags: afab!reader, fingering, oral (female receiving), piv, denying feelings, toshi being a genuine lover-boy, someone has a praise kink, surprise it's me, minors dni a/n: i love young dumb full of cum late-twenties all might the tag | next →

"You don't look well—"

"Don't."

You could fry him right now. You could totally, absolutely, blast him with ten thousand volts and call it a night — but you can't, really, because he's fucking All Might. He's All Might and even worse, he's Toshinori Yagi. 

He's... kind. And gentle. And patient. And levelheaded... If not the single reason your entire life fell apart seven years ago.

(That is not true. You know it. You and your therapist have worked through that stuck point — but, it sounds a hell of a lot better than explaining the reason you ended up in prison was by your own actions, not being caught by All Might.)

You're reformed.

Blah, blah, blah, you're the Villain Rehabilitation Program's star graduate. 

They loved using your imagery — the ones of you before you got clean off those Quirk enhancers and put on the straight and narrow —in their PR packages. They love that picture of you — the ones with hands behind your back — cuffed by All Might as you're effectively muzzled by the local law enforcement.

Your lip catches in a snarl.

Don't think about that. 

Don't think about his hands on your wrists. Don't think about the way his boot nudged your leg apart for the frisk — don't think about the way he threatened you, so low and so dangerous, not to move. 

Don't think about how All Might is a bastard, and the media just doesn't know it. 

He's cheeky. Sly. When he's out of the limelight, that eerie #1 smile drops and he's almost normal — if not nearly five hundred and sixty pounds of muscle.  

Like now, on this rooftop, he's more like Toshinori Yagi. Your impromptu mentor in all things heroic. After all, the Hero Commission thought it would be great for the program's image if All Might, the man who arrested you countless times, was the one to integrate you into a more heroic notion. Never mind the dozens of times you went head-to-head with the man, never mind the handful of times you almost won. 

"Derecho, I'm serious," comes his voice; it's softer, almost like he's in his smaller form — the one you always find yourself being partial to, "You look feverish..."

Static snaps across the air and Toshinori takes it — the way it bites at the skin of his hands is nothing. It's a warning shot. Don't come any closer. 

"I was hit with that guy's quirk," you mutter as you try to square your breathing, "I'm fine, I just... Need some time—"

Son of a bitch. 

You've always been a hard one to shake — and even now, as you climb well into the Top Ten ranks, he's never seen you this out of it. You've taken a crowbar to the ribs and recovered better than being hit by some petty criminal's love quirk. 

Toshinori curses under his breath as he winces at the desperation cracking in your voice. 

"If you need to take the night—"

"Yes."

He was slotted to patrol this prefecture with you for another two hours — but seeing the way your whole body looks like it could collapse is... a bit concerning. Toshinori nods, exhales, and waves you on.

"Should I call Recovery Girl?"

Your boot toes the ledge. You need out of this outfit. It's too tight. You're too hot. Your skin feels like it's on fire and the embarrassing ache between your legs is just getting worse with every low, timbred syllable out of his mouth. Don't think about his mouth. 

"I'm fine." 

You're not fine.

Even when you're back in your apartment, trying desperately to shower off the skin-crawling, mouth-watering heat of desire, you can't even come close to relating to the word 'fine'. You're a mess. You try to stand under the heat of the water for a while, to burn the need off your skin, but that doesn't work. 

You're so not fine. 

You can't stop thinking about Toshinori. Must be something to do with the fact he was closest when you were struck with the quirk. Yea. Totally that.

You have to be fine. You need to be fine. This is just a stupid love quirk that will wear off within a few hours. 

Well, a few hours come and go, and it's just getting worse. 

Come on, you are torturing yourself with the evening news, just breathe it out. 

Because you're a hero, and you were a villain. You know what it's like to get hit with disconcerting quirks like this in the heat of a battle. With just a little time, it goes away. Right? 

Right...?

"I AM CALLING! I AM CALLING!" 

Your phone vibrates on the coffee table. Your pupils, full-blown and big, swivel to the photo that ignites the dark of the room. It's a photo of Toshinori — he's in his smaller form, posed beside you in a ramen booth close to U.A.'s campus. He was hellbent on giving you a tour of his old high school.

You always loved how cute he looked in that picture.

Fuck.

You snatch the phone up and answer the call.

"What?" it comes out snappier than it needs to be. 

"Are you doin' alright?" his voice has lost its persona'd gusto. You can tell, just by the soft way he speaks, he's no longer in uniform or on patrol. All Might has clocked out for the evening, and Toshinori Yagi is in the building, "I haven't heard a peep from you all night, zippy." 

Something in your brain goes blank at the nickname. You usually hate it. Usually, you'd bite at him for it. You don't even realize you're white knuckle gripping the edge of the couch as he continues to speak. 

"Y'know, it's okay — I've been hit by love quirks plenty of times before," he goes on; you can hear him juggle the phone to his other ear, "They aren't fun. I'm sorry you're—"

"Come over."

Toshinori almost drops the can of soda in his hands. In the middle of the convenience store aisle, he feels his entire body lurch. 

"What?"

Your head is back against the couch, your hands covering your face in sheer embarrassment. You grit it out again. "I said come over."

"Derecho—"

"I've tried everything," you mutter defeatedly into the phone; you can't even pull your hand from your face, you're so embarrassed you're even telling him this but you need help, "Fingers, toys, even the Hitachi on the highest speed, Toshinori, and I can't—"

Jesus fucking Christ. 

This is bad.

This is... not you. So not you. This is... fuck, okay, right. He's All Might. He helps people. And you're important to him. You're his enemy turned pseudo-protégé turned colleague turned woman-he's-been-ignoring-his-feelings-for-the-last-seven-months. You're Derecho. Number Eight Hero in Japan, his friend. His...

"Give me ten."

And he hangs up.

Two boxes of XL condoms earn him a severely skeptical look from the cashier, but it's fine. Toshinori has bigger things to worry about — like the fact he has no idea what this is going to do to your working relationship, but it's fine. You need help. He knows what this is like — and he would feel awful if he left you to deal with it alone. 

Fingers, toys, even the Hitachi— 

Maybe he'll die, actually. Maybe he'll just throw himself from the nearest roof. 

The mental image of you, alone in your apartment, hands between your thighs as you try desperately to shake the painful ache in your core has him walking a bit faster — your apartment is three blocks over. 

He makes good time.

His knuckles don't even touch the door before you're yanking it open — and Christ, you're a sight to see.

Wet hair, wild eyes, and a permanent heavy breath. The oversized t-shirt clinging to your shoulders is definitely going to be a topic of discussion for a later date. It's All Might merch. His fucking merch. 

When did you even buy that—?

"I'm sorry," you blurt out, looking pained. 

Toshinori's eyes hold your own. Then:

"I've always been a sucker for a damsel in distress."

He's a bastard. A serious bastard. A bastard who you're dragging in by the neck of his t-shirt — a bastard who doesn't complain in the slightest when your mouth is on his in a flash. With ease, he slams the front door shut with his boot and quickly allows you to guide him through your apartment. Your mouth is still latched to his, your hands digging into his shoulders as his hands chase your waist. 

You recognize in the heated haze of the kiss there's a grocery bag in his hand. It knocks against your hip as you accidentally back into the edge of the couch — your hands fumbling for some purchase in the dark living room. 

You pull your mouth from his just long enough to breathe out another apology. 

"Don't. We'll talk about it after," he says, leaning down over you as you scramble back against the leather couch cushions, "What do you need?"

"What do you think?" you hiss as his body presses against yours; he's still in his boots, still in his shirt and jeans. He's... too clothed. Your body couldn't handle anything except the less-than-flattering pair of cotton underwear and the biggest t-shirt you owned. 

You swear he's smirking in the dark. 

"Mouth? Hands?" he presses, his touch cradling your face as he continues to navigate your steady, bruisingly needy kisses, "Use your words."

"Anything—"

Your voice is a rasp, your hands scaling his back as he nudges your knees apart with his thigh and slots his hips against yours. Even in this smaller form, he's got the tactical advantage — not being near death from a fever so high you can hardly think anymore. 

"I need to know," he says as he leans back, his voice dipping lower as his palms brush the skin of your stomach. His fingertips hesitate at the edge of your waistband, and you whine. 

"Anything, Toshinori, stop jerking me around!" 

...What a brat. He almost laughs. But, then he remembers the one time he was left like this — and how desperate he was even after six hours of exhaustive attempts at self-pleasure. 

"Be nice," he chirps as his fingers slip beneath your underwear; his satisfaction builds when you fist the back of his shirt and gasp — his fingers grace the slick, wet folds of your core with ease. It's a tender movement, one that assesses just how pliable you are at this moment. 

And then, two of his fingers are pushing into you down to his knuckles. 

The babbled thank you bursts from your chest — and Toshi actually laughs at how fast you cling to his chest. He didn't anticipate his night going like this. Not with you, wild-eyed and desperate, pulling him into a kiss that's so bruising he thinks his lip splits.

Hands. Hands. Hands. His hands. One hand is between your folds, working you open, and the other is pressing up your curves and settling along your breast. You can't even think straight. The fact Toshinori is so slick, so eager, so good at whatever he's doing, is making the coil in your abdomen go white hot. 

"Fuck—" you strangle out, your lips parted in a gasp as he wets his own lips and watches your face in the dark, "G-God, okay, th-that's good—"

"Better than your own?" he asks, genuinely worried this isn't the progress you need to shake off the quirk's effects. 

"So much better," you wail, coincidentally fueling his ego in a way he never knew he needed. Because, ha, well — who knew Derecho, little miss spiteful and mysterious, just needed a little bit of him. 

"Is it enough?" he asks against her jaw, his forearm flexing as he works the pace up, his palm rubbing gently against your clit. It's an attempt at a coordinated pace, and it seems to be working from the way you're writhing beneath him. 

"I... I still — I can't — I'm so..." you look like you could cry out of sheer frustration, and Toshi suddenly feels a pang of guilt. He can only imagine how you've done this very thing over and over tonight, trying to just cum. Your voice cracks and you whimper, "I can't. I'm so close, but I just can't—"

"Okay," he breathes, his mind swirling with strategic planning, "So mouth."

"Mouth?" you choke, suddenly looking alarmed, but Toshi doesn't seem to care about the added snare of intimacy that comes with him slipping to his knees before the couch. 

Oh my god, he's on his knees. He's on his knees and he's grappling with your underwear, hauling it down the tops of your thighs before throwing it over his shoulder in a very Toshinori manner. 

You've got All Might on his knees. 

It suddenly hits you as he sits up on his knees and nudges your legs apart. He's a man on a mission — dedicated entirely to the task at hand. 

Making you orgasm. 

You wonder how many people have fantasized about this very thing — granted, he's not costume. Thank god. You can't even imagine what the conversation with his dry-cleaning team would look like. 

Toshi's voice knocks you back to reality. "Is this okay?"

He sounds concerned.

Meanwhile, you could kill him. If he doesn't put his mouth on you right now—

Noted. He sees the spark of annoyance, dumb question, and hauls your leg over his shoulder as he delves in. 

Ohmygod.

This is better — the coil is wound tighter, and a little bit closer to snapping, the second his tongue presses flat against your glistening slick. It's even better when he hums, his voice mumbles against your sex as his hands press your thighs to open a bit farther. 

"Keep 'em open."

"Don't talk," you heave between pants, "With your mouth full."

It's like the two of you are at work — this banter. But, his laugh vibrates your core and you moan. That doesn't happen at work. That doesn't happen, ever. A greedy part of you sure as hell hopes this happens again, because holy hell, he's good at this. Methodical. Strategic. Thorough.

His pace doesn't change, the pressure doesn't lessen. The blonde streaks of his fringe tickle the inside of your thighs as he continues his work — and you swear you almost cum when he slips a look up at you in the dark. 

His eyes are so blue that you feel like you're suddenly lost at sea. 

Then, there are two crooked fingers back inside of you. 

You and he are going to have to have a long talk about where he learned all this — because it's so good you genuinely can't do anything but reach out and grip his hair in a panic. You gasp, your whole body convulses, and you almost... almost cum. Almost.

It's Toshi's turn to moan. 

You're suddenly so oversensitive you swear your heart might stop. 

You're writhing away from him, squirming away, and Toshi's lips are parted as his breath fans across your core. 

"Cock," you're suddenly rambling, "N-Need — I need—"

"Right," he stutters, realizing this is good — you're almost there, he can tell. You're so close he can feel it in the air. The static electricity burning off your quirk leaves the room feeling tingly. 

He's wobbling back upright, cursing as he practically falls around the couch in the dark, and palms at the grocery bag he discarded on the floor. He's not graceful about the way he tears about the small box, or about the way he drops the foil square between his teeth as he leans back to work off his belt. 

"Bedroom?" he asks through gritted teeth.

You're nodding, practically falling over yourself to lead the way. Boots, jeans, belt, shirt — all of it is left scattered along the way, and your bare body hits the sheets after an easy shove from Toshinori. Of course, the boxers clinging to his strong thighs are his brand. The All Might logo is almost comical stretched across his hardness. 

You have the wherewithal to roll your eyes as he tears open the condom with his teeth. 

"What?" he shirks, looking down.

"Seriously?" you grit, legs pressed together tightly to try and stop the empty ache between your legs. It hurts. It hurts so much worse when his mouth and hands aren't on you.

"Don't even start," he rumbles as he rolls down the waistband and his cock springs free — he's quick to roll the condom down the thick length of it and lift a finger to wag in your face, "You answered the door in my merch—" 

"Setting the mood," you offer as he steps out of his underwear.

Toshinori then, unceremoniously, drags your hips to the edge of the bed. You almost shriek. It's a bit rough — a bit sudden — but you can't complain when the head of his cock is suddenly being guided through your folds teasingly. Up and down. Over the swollen bud of your clit, across your wet opening. You prop yourself up on your elbows, lips parted, as you try and nudge your hips closer. 

His large hand presses your hips down to the mattress. 

"Toshinori—"

"You sure this is okay?" he mutters, his pupils full-blown as he watches himself slip through your wetness, "I— If it's too much—"

"If you don't fuck me right now—"

"Right."

And he sinks in.

Ha. 

Yea. 

This is good.

You're so glad you didn't fry him earlier. You're so glad. You're so... oh, this is so so so ridiculously good you might die. You might die, because he's snapping his hips into yours and you can see the ripple of his muscles, even in this smaller form. 

His breath is ragged, his voice low and easy.

"You're doing a great job," he says; your core tightens at the sudden praise, "Y-You're doin' really... good—"

Your chest bounces with each thrust, your legs locked around his hips, your whimpers increasing in frequency with every single in and out of his cock. The feeling is better than any sex you've ever had — you've never been so aware of every inch. 

And then, he's knocking his forehead against yours, leaning over you — you're caged against the mattress, and one arm of his is holding your leg up around his waist. The angle change is minute but it's good. Everything is Toshinori so suddenly, everything is so blue eyes and a bright smile. 

It's thorough, a word you're slowly beginning to realize describes Toshinori to a T. There's not a single falter in his pace, not a single thrust that doesn't wind the white-hot orgasm tighter and tighter in your belly. It's worse when he holds your face, though, worse when he keeps fucking you so well while chattering on about how good you are, how strong you are, how beautiful you are—

Your composure snaps when he rumbles out:

"I know you can cum for me like a good girl."

The coil snaps.

Finally. 

After four hours of torture. After four hours of trying. Finally, you cum — and hard. The sort that robs you of your vision and hearing, the sort that has your whole body arching off the bed. The kind you haven't had in a long time. The kind that, of course, Toshinori Yagi would be the man to provide. 

"Fuckfuckfuck—" you babble, gasping, still gripped by the force of the orgasm as his pace quickens.

He's laughing — laughing, and then you're clamping down on him so hard he sees stars. It's all fun and games until he can't stop himself, he can't slow down, he can't breathe, and he's rocked by an orgasm that makes his knees give out. He's wild-eyed, panting, snapping his hips into yours as you whimper and gasp and grip his shoulders so tight he may have bruises. 

Toshinori swallows, then gasps to catch his breath, and then pushes himself up to give you a little room to breathe. His cock is still twitching inside of you.

Your eyes are closed, and your breath is fast. Your hair is spilled across the sheet — and you look content. Satiated. Peaceful. He's rarely ever seen you so tranquil. 

Blindly, and lazily, you reach up to touch his cheek.

At first, he thinks it's going to be tender. Intimate. Romantic.

Then, you roughly pat it twice.

"We're never gonna talk about this again."

Right. 

Because he's All Might. And you're Derecho. You're colleagues. Friends. This was just... him helping you. Like when a friend has a cold. You bring them soup. He... brought you... an orgasm. Just like soup.

Definitely.

...Right. 

"It was just, uh," he breathes, pulling out and cursing at the embarrassingly apparent load in the condom; not like he'd dreamed about this very thing for nights on end, no siree bob, "You needed help. I offered."

That is not what happened. Not even close. But, he's going to tell himself that.

Not like you totally won't think about this every single night ever for the rest of time. Definitely like you won't dream about the way he called you a good girl. Ha. Yea, right. Psh. You're fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.

After all, it's just Toshinori.

He's... kind. And gentle. And patient. And levelheaded... If not the single reason your entire life fell apart seven years ago.

And definitely not the reason your life is falling apart right now as you realize, fuck, you're definitely in love with him, aren't you?

Naaah.

[plutocisms]

Morning Surprise w/ MHA Men || Oneshot

NSFW and suggestive content, mdni!!

Aizawa, Keigo, Toshinori & Dabi

Morning sex w Aizawa would involve you straddling him and peppering him with kisses to wake him from his slumber. His hands lazily resting on your waist. You’d rock back and forth, feeling him grow beneath you. Your motion teasing him causing a groan to escape his lips until he can’t bear it anymore. He flips you swiftly on your back, now hovering over you, his hair tickling your nose. He adjusts himself just before slipping his hand over your soaked panties moving them aside and collecting what’s already escaped. He pops his fingers in his mouth to get a taste of you. Leisurely, he reaches down to release his aching length from his boxers and grazes his leaking tip against your opening. Gliding back and forth giving you a taste of your own medicine. His hand now pressed on the back of your thighs to get the most perfect view of your glistening pussy before he dives in face first to further indulge in your sweetness. He moans against you, the vibrations forcing you to arch your back with pleasure. He raises his head, with his chin soaked, to get a glimpse of your needy disposition. He begins massaging circles on your clit with one hand and guides his cock into your tight cunt with his other grunting and panting with pleasure as his sinks deeper into you.

Morning sex with Keigo would involve him pressing his hard on, into your backside while gripping your waist and spooning you. He would begin to trace figure eights with his finger over your shoulder and whisper in a raspy voice just how badly he needs you in this moment, assuring you that you didn’t have to do anything and that he just wanted to make you feel good. He would disappear under the covers, kissing every part of you on the way down just before biting your panties down. He’d plant warm wet kisses on your inner thighs, lightly biting them before guiding his tongue past your folds, licking stripes up your slit, making love with his mouth. You gasp at his touch, only furthering his desire for you. The tip of his nose pressing perfectly against your clit as his tongue dances around your velvet walls and as he purrs at your sweet taste. He reappears from underneath the covers, burying his face in the crook of your neck, pinning your wrist down with one hand and gripping the fat of your ass the the other while he pumps you full of him. He choked out a strangled moan at the initial contact, groaning and breathily cussing with every thrust indicating his desperation and need to be closer to you.

Morning sex with Toshinori would involve him being woken up by your touch. Your hand massaging his manhood as muffled sighs escape his lips. He swiftly pulls you in closer, his hands placed on your ass as he moves your body atop his languidly. He kisses you tenderly, cupping your face with one hand, and with his grip on your waist in the other. You can feel him twitching and hardening beneath you. You sit up, placing your hands on his chest, teasing and grinding against his length as he massages your breasts. Unable to keep his composure, he gently hoists you up by your waist before sliding you back down onto his throbbing cock. He lets out a ragged breath as he slips into your core. Now that he’s got a taste, he’s anything but gentle. He props his knees up for a better angle and better control. You toss your head back, moaning in ecstasy as he fills you up, thrusting needily underneath you. Whimpering as his grip on your ass tightens, he’s controlling the pace causing you to come undone. His breath hitches from the pressure of your hands weighing on his chest. He’s drowning in pleasure, causing his movements to become even sloppier than when you got started.

Morning sex with Dabi would involve him waking up to some morning wood and rolling over to see you sleeping on your side. He would sneakily slip his hand down your panties, waking you up by his touch as he massaged your clit. Pressing his hard cock into your ass. You’d let out a small gasp as his fingers explores your slit. He’d poke you with his erection a few times before sliding your panties to the side and lifting one of your legs for better access. You feel his cock spring out of his boxers and tap at your entrance. He glides himself between your folds, collecting all of your juices before sinking into you. You bury your face into your pillow and whine. he slips one hand around your throat applying a little pressure. You hear the sound of him biting back moans as your cunt tightens around him. A muffled “f-fuck” barely escapes his throat as his hips snap into you. He adjust his position. Turning you flat on your stomach, he smacks your ass, just before slightly spreading your cheeks apart to drill into you. You grip onto the sheets desperately as he has his way with you this morning, panting at just how good it feels to have your pussy wrapped around him.

[cherryblossombankai]

HIIII

I love youuu

Could you maybe Write headcanons about how Hawks, Dabi, All Might, Enji, Shigaraki, Present Mic and Eraser Head eat pussy? It would be amazing!

You rock my world, baby girl!

Warnings: oral (f receiving), mentions of somnophilia, quirks used for kinky stuff

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network (message me to be added to my taglist!)

Hawks

Hawks is playful at first. He likes teasing you, making you get all flustered for him. This will be achieved by blowing on your pussy or sucking gently on your folds.

Once he really gets into it though, his demeanor changes completely. He almost seems to relax from going down on you. His body goes a little slack and his eyes flutter closed. 

Every so often when you whine his name, he’ll look up at you lazily, his eyes just rolling open to meet yours before closing again. 

He could honestly just stay there with his head between your thighs, suckling and licking at you all night. 

You’ll have to push him away to avoid being overstimulated. 

Dabi 

You have to beg him to go down on you. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he loves hearing you beg. 

This becomes even more apparent when he has you spread open for him. His tongue is lapping at nearly every part of your pussy EXCEPT where you need him most. 

He’ll have your thighs shaking and you’re whining by the time his tongue finally touches your clit.

He’ll spend ages edging you, only to turn right back around and overstimulate you. 

It’s safe to say Dabi decides when you’re done cumming. 

All Might 

His experience with women is pretty limited, so be prepared to spend time having to teach him how to lick pussy. 

One thing about Toshinori though, he is very eager to learn and even more eager to put what he learns to good use to please the special lady in his life.

He’s very gentle at first, but it doesn’t take much for him to get a little too excited. 

As he laps up your nectar, he’ll let out little groans and growls. He gets very into it.

 If he’s lying on the bed, he’ll be grinding against the mattress the whole time. It’s not uncommon for him to accidentally make himself cum this way.

Endeavor

Enji is a very busy man, and he can’t always take the time to indulge with you. So, when he indulges in your body he makes the most of it. 

He’ll get a little nasty about it because he just has to be the best, and nothing gets him harder than hearing you scream his name. 

Any position works for him, even eating you out from behind. He’s particularly fond of having you sit on his face. His hands will be full of your ass, guiding you to ride his face. 

He makes a little bit of noise, mostly growling. 

Sometimes when he gets a bit too worked up he’ll start smoking from his quirk getting activated. He’s even sparked a little before, which of course didn’t go well. 

Shigaraki

He wants to go unhinged. The desire to spread you open and devour your pussy like it’s the nectar of a goddess is unbearable. But because of his quirk, he has to be so careful. 

Having to use so much care and caution whenever he touches you, drives him insane. He can never truly lose himself in you the way he desires. 

So instead, he expresses himself through grunting and growling against your pussy. He may not be able to touch you with all of his fingers but the ones he can use are digging into the meat of your thighs. 

“Tastes so good,” he groans between lapping at your pussy. 

He loves making you feel good. The way you praise him so sweetly and swear he’s the only one who can make you feel this way, it gives him purpose. 

Present Mic 

Let’s just get this out of the way: he’s basically a sex god. 

Present Mic is adventurous and fearless in his pursuit of bringing you pleasure. 

One of his go to moves is to hum against your pussy, using his quirk to make the vibrations intense. His mouth basically becomes a vibrator, and he’ll do this while sucking on your little clit. 

He’s really down to eat you out anytime and anywhere. Kitchen counter, classroom, even in the bathroom stall of  your favorite club. 

His skills are unmatched. Once he’s gone down on you, you’ll never be the same. 

Eraser Head

Aizawa loves eating you out just as much as you love getting eaten out. 

It’s sort of how he unwinds at the end of a day. After going through the domestic dinner routine with you, he drags you to bed. 

He can and will go down on your until he falls asleep suckling on your clit. 

Then he wakes up in the middle of the night, his head on your thigh, and starts all over again. 

He enjoys waking you up with oral, watching your sleepy face contort with pleasure. 

[jophiel-extras]

summary :: All Might NSFW alphabet

warning :: nsfw

note :: All Might my beloved, reqs open

A = Aftercare

Toshinori becomes The Thinker after sex. He’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, but once you’re out he’ll leave. Usually, he will go on a run or sit outside for a few hours with himself. Once he’s done, he’ll come back and slip into bed with your or put together a breakfast.

B = Body part

He never really considers any of his own body parts, especially when he’s in his skinny form. If he had to pick, it would be his hands. For you, Toshi likes your face the most.

C = Cum

He always pulls out, it’s a habit. He’ll finish either on your tummy or ass.

D = Dirty secret

He’s thought about going from his skinny form to muscle whilst inside you.

E = Experience

He’s rusty but knows what’s going on. It takes a while for him to truely ease into it and not overthink his actions.

F = Favorite position

Missionary, a classic for a reason. When things get pretty heated, he’s known to enjoy taking you against a wall especially in his muscle form.

G = Goofy

Usually pretty serious and sensual. Sex with him is almost always love making and Toshi takes it seriously. There’s been moments where you’ve both had a laugh but it’s rare.

H = Hair

The carpets do match the drapes, he’s blonde through and through.

I = Intimacy

He’s quite intense about sex; deep eye contact, squeezing your hand, holding you close. It’s always special and drawn out.

J = Jack off

Since the two of you started having sex it was like a switch in Toshi’s mind was turned on. He’s horny. Often. He’s had to excuse himself from teaching to rub one out just because he can’t stop thinking of you.

K = Kink

Size difference. Even if he doesn’t know it Toshi loves being taller and generally bigger than you. He especially loves to grab your waist in his muscle form, it’s a massive thing for him. I also suspect he might enjoy the thrill of public spaces, he’d never admit it or initiate but it’s there.

L = Location

The bedroom. He’s a private man.

M = Motivation

He’s a little dense when it comes to hints, so the best way Toshi gets turned on is when you openly flirt with him and whisper dirty things in his ear.

N = No

Never ever would he hurt you. He won’t compromise on it either.

O = Oral

Enjoys giving for sure. He’s pretty good with his mouth. The way he looks at you through his dark eyes as he eats you out is something else. Also, the way he acts when getting head is insane. His hands snake through your hair and he curls up, grunting and whispering profanities.

P = Pace

Slow and sensual. Unless it’s a special occasion of course! Then he’ll poof into his muscle form and fuck you like a sex symbol.

Q = Quickie

Not the usual, but it’s happened before. Quickies are whenever he’s in a rush to do something or when you’re in a semi public setting.

R = Risk

Yes, he can be a risk taker but it makes the sex anxious. He’s got a lot of eyes on him at all time so he needs to be wary.

S = Stamina

Oh honey, he’s not done until you’re done. You think all that stamina training from his early days wouldn’t translate into sex? You’re in for a surprise.

T = Toys

He’s not a massive fan.

U = Unfair

Toshinori is not one to tease you during sex, really it’s the opposite. He’s a giver and always follows through with pleasure.

V = Volume

Lots of grunting and heavy breathing. He’s not particularly loud, but just enough to get you going.

W = Wild card

Once you gave him under the table head whilst at U.A. and it was the best blowjob ever. He thinks about it often and can’t help but get hard.

X = X-ray

Both forms he’s packing a nice 9 inches. However the girth changes slightly between forms.

Y = Yearning

If he wasn’t so busy, he’d want to sleep with you every day but alas there aren’t enough hours in the day.

Z = Zzz

He’s not good at sleeping but after a particularly tiring session, he’ll pass out.

[jellyfishandry]

W/ a drop-dead gorgeous s/o

(^ From this post)

Characters: Shota Aizawa, Toshinori Yagi

CW: gn or fem reader, reader is described as sweet + other things, you're married to Shota cause I said so, insecurities, slight Toshi angst, giving them flowers, uhh lmk if I missed anything

A/N: This kind of thing is like my favorite thing to write. Also I couldn't resist adding a ship dynamic picture for Toshi's. (Tags: @nnnyxie, @bingewatchintilldawn)

Shota Aizawa

No one knows how he managed to catch your attention. He had a messy appearance, and he could be harsh at times. But you were absolutely stunning. Not to mention you were incredibly polite and sweet. The first time you met his class, almost everyone was shocked. You had probably brought him flowers after the USJ attack to hopefully cheer him up. Just about everyone knew he was married, as he wore a ring, but they did not expect someone so utterly gorgeous and kind to be his partner Hizashi and Nemuri were the only ones you had met, as they had gone to your guys' wedding. But his students are a bit flabbergasted, and are mainly the ones who don’t understand why you married him. But it doesn’t mean they don’t like you, in fact, they love it when you drop by. Mainly because you’re just nice, but also because Shota relaxes more around you, and they have a lower chance of being scolded…  Or higher, depending on how you look at it But Shota is very thankful that you don’t mind the way he looks.  He was initially surprised when he found out you liked him, but he quickly accepted it. Though he will admit he was slightly skeptical at first, wondering if you had an ulterior motive. But you truly just loved him for who he was. And he did eventually understand that you just had pure, innocent intentions.

Toshinori Yagi

He himself has no idea how he pulled you. He doesn’t have a great self image, so he doesn’t understand why you of all people would be interested in him. At the start of your relationship (also when he was crushing) he could barely breathe around you. And early in your relationship people warned him that you might be using him, or something like that, and using your attractiveness to your advantage. He tells them that he knows you would never do that, and he’s correct. It just might take some time for other people to see that. But as your relationship progressed, he became less flustered around you. He’ll occasionally have doubts, and say stuff like “You should be dating someone who still has their life ahead of them.” He was at the point where he was having a hard time comprehending how he could keep living without saving people But you reassure him that he’s the one you want, and that nothing is going to change that After he fought AFO, you brought him some flowers to put on his desk. But you wanted to surprise him, so you didn’t tell him you were coming So when you’re directed to the teachers lounge, there’s some awkward silence before he stands up and goes towards you. “You brought me flowers.?”  He seriously didn’t expect you to get him anything, much less a bouquet of flowers  He’s very grateful for the flowers, and he’ll keep them and then press them when they dry out (they’re sunflowers.) He wants to kiss you, but he feels that doing it in front of the other staff members (specifically Present Mic) wouldn’t be the best idea. And out of the students, Izuku is the first to find out, as he’s known Toshinori the longest.  You probably end up calling him when he’s training him, and Izuku is able to tell reasonably quickly that whoever he’s talking to is very special to him. But he ends up meeting you when the other students do.  And when you are introduced to them, you both receive a lot of questions. But in the end everyone likes having you around, and Toshinori is thankful for you and loves you very much.

This is the vibe you and Toshi give off

(The tweet is not mine)

|| Navigation ||

[kasiers]

thinking about him going out to buy some groceries.. he'd then come home with a bouquet of flowers and the bag of groceries in the other.

"honey, i'm home! ya got some work to do!" he yells out from the kitchen.

his voice was loud enough so that you can hear him from the living room.

you didn't know what he meant but as soon as you made your way to the kitchen and saw the bouquet of daisies, your eyes glimmered at the sight of them.

he notices, of course, your husbands heart flutter as you reach out to give him a quick peck on the cheeks.

"these look exactly like the daisies that we saw in switzerland!!" you exclaim.

you vividly recall the flower bed you saw on your recent trip together, exploring countries in europe over the span of two weeks.

it hadn't been a week yet since you'd both gotten back, but your dear husband was working as hard as ever despite being jet lagged.

"i know," he says. while he arranges all the groceries he had bought into the pantry and the fridge, you're busy yourself.

cutting the stems and preparing the cute flower filled vase, you place it in the middle of the kitchen island.

it sure does make the room brighter. ♡

GOJO SATORU. YUJI ITADORI, nanami kento, toshinori yagi, suguru geto, izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, your fav

[actuallysaiyan]

Younger!Toshinori who has stamina for days and the highest fucking sex drive.

Younger!Toshinori who feels bad whenever you say you're so sore and tired, but he just needs to keep humping and fucking and his cock is so hard

Younger!Toshinori who can't help himself. Whenever he sees you in such a cute outfit, he's got to have his hands on you. He loves to squeeze your ass, touch your tits. He's a pervert, but he keeps it hidden from the public eye.

Younger!Toshinori who is always so desperate to cum inside you. Sure, he likes the look of his cum all over your body, but he pleads with you that 'inside just feels so good, please please please'.

Younger!Toshinori who stains his underwear with precum all the time. He's always hard whenever he sees you. He's never ever felt this way before. You make him feel like he's going insane with lust.

Older!Toshinori who doesn't have the same stamina, but that sex drive never went away.

Older!Toshinori who surprises you with morning head and makes you cum at least twice before he even lets you out of bed most mornings.

Older!Toshinori who you've caught stealing your underwear, though he swears he was just trying to do your laundry for you.

Older!Toshinori who is always still so horny. His underwear is still stained with precum. He often has to jerk off or find you to have sex because he swears he's going insane with lust still.

Older!Toshinori who still loves groping your tits and your ass, and he actually does it a lot more now because he's out of the public eye more than ever now.

[geeks-universe]

Yagi Toshinori x Supergirl!Reader

I’ve been slowly adding to this idea over a few months. It’s based around a young All Might and reader (who is Kryptonian/is basically supergirl)

“I’ll stabilize the building, you get the villain,” he ground out, his steadfast grin calming the few civilians who dared to look out the window.

Your nod was resolute as you passed the weight over to him, turning back to the one responsible for the chaos. Despite his years as a hero, and all of the training that ensued, he didn’t like leaving the villain to you. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust your ability- he did, maybe more than any other hero he’d ever worked with- it was that he didn’t want to risk the chance of you getting hurt.

Not after that crazy man months ago who was asking specifically for you.

The name you were making for yourself as a hero was starting to attract the wrong villain crowd. They wanted to prove themselves capable, and you were the perfect person to do so. Nothing drew attention like kicking the ass of someone the media drowned in praise.

It couldn’t be helped though. You would be fine, he just needed to focus on getting the people out of this building. It wasn’t a skyscraper by any means, but he couldn’t possibly just hold it upright while everyone evacuated. That could take hours if he were lucky.

Just as he’d considered drilling it into the ground a bit, a rescue hero who specialized in rock manipulation rolled onto the scene- Rock? Rocky something?- and created a support capable of stabilizing the building. He sighed at the sudden weight lifted off his shoulders, and shot a thumbs up to the support hero, before making his way to where you were locked in battle.

It’d only been a few minutes, but in that time you had moved in, forcing the villain a fair distance back. The little bit of defense he’d mustered up with the last remaining metal had been blasted away by you.

In a final, desperate attack, he lunged forward, an outstretched hand forcing a large piece of shrapnel towards your back left. You sidestepped it, throwing your body to the right just in time to dodge.

Only….

You hadn’t dodged.

The villain had planned it. In his waiting hand was a green blade, a bit lighter than the one that the villain in the park head, and significantly smaller. Still, his quick move forced it into your abdomen.

Toshi shouted then, a terrifying noise that struck fear into the villain’s heart. It didn’t matter, he initiated with a speed the man couldn’t even comprehend, slamming him into the ground with a little more force than necessary.

“Toshi,” you muttered, your voice oddly quiet.

He tore his eyes from the unconscious villain, jumping to you before you could fall. Your body fell into his arms, weight limp against him as you held your hands to the wound in your stomach. Blood was gushing through your fingertips, staining your skin.

Blood.

Your blood.

A fist had wrapped itself around his heart, holding it steady as he stared at the sight of your wound.

It…

You…

Fear.

Fear like he’d never known before, like he’d never even considered, bloomed in his still chest, the thought of losing you bringing the world to a crushing halt.

“You need a doctor,” he told you slowly, gently.

You shook your head, crying out at the pain. The sound tore at his heart, digging itself into his mind.

“No, no, it’ll heal,” you promised him, trying to pull on the handle of the dagger. “I just need it out.”

“That isn’t-“

“Toshinori!” Your voice was firm, the fire in your eyes sharpened as you yanked, the sound harrowing as the blade slipped out.

You hissed, the sound caught between your teeth as you threw the knife far from your person. It took a second, but he watched with amazement as the skin slowly sealed itself, leaving no trace you were ever hurt to begin with besides the red, sticky substance coating your hands and clothes.

“That is some quirk,” Toshinori whistled, still holding you against his chest like he was afraid it’d open back up.

And maybe he was afraid.

That rage in his stomach, the absolute fury he felt at the villain for daring to harm you, was foreign to him. He’d never felt an anger so intense, a fire so brutal, that he’d wanted to make someone hurt- not just incapacitate them.

But you were there. You were solid, your trembling hand reaching out to rest against his chest, drawing his attention.

Somehow, you knew. Somehow, you’d read his expression, had seen the change in the pull of his muscles, and despite the situation, you still chose to comfort him.

Your hand was strong, steady, against the rising and lowering of his chest. Slowly, cautiously, patiently, you pressed your forehead to his, the warmth of your breath fanning over his mouth with each beat of your heart.

A heat spread from the base of his stomach, a finger grazing up his spine, settling against his skin. It was a warmth, a familiar one, yet something he’d never felt before altogether. Affection, and still, something so much more.

He felt it in the hammering of his heart, the pumping of his blood, the reverberation of every breath. The world faded away at some point- the chaos, the wind, the destruction- it became nothing. Existence itself began and ended with the press of your forehead, the sprawl of your fingers, the gentle call of his name on your lips.

For just a moment, a perfect moment, it was you and him, a reality all in itself, where there was only comfort and attachment and love.

Click.

It was quiet, near imperceptible, but to two people who had spent far too much time in the public’s eye, it was like a gunshot.

You pulled away first, and the cold air was startling against his body. He shivered, clenching his hand into a fist to prevent from reaching back out to you. Panic swelled, pouring down his form like a bucket of cold water.

His gaze landed on the cameraman with far more rage than he intended, but it didn’t matter. The damage was done. A crowd had formed while you’d been distracted, a number of devices aimed in the general direction that you’d both been standing in.

���Shit,” he cursed, twitching at the thought of what Gran Torino would say to him.

No doubt the old man was going to give him an ear full.

While his curse was said lowly, yours was much more pronounced. Red tinted your cheeks, and you looked flustered, either from the sudden attention or you were feeling exactly what he had been.

He hoped it was the latter.

“I should-“

Whatever you’d been about to say, you stopped short, backing away as you shook your head. He tried to calm you, maybe to offer an apology, but you were pushing off into the sky before he could stop you.

He gave a friendly wave to the crowd before he followed suit, phone already in hand by the time he landed blocks away to text you- what? That he was sorry? That he felt something?

Eventually he settled, pocketing his phone before making his way home to wind down.

Toshi ^.^ 18:56

I hope you’re okay. If you need anything, I’ll be here.

[champion-prism]

No but all might with the prettiest most angelic little housewife

always has a delicious dinner on the table when he gets home from hero work

showers with him so she can wash his hair and massage his back

comes to bed in pretty soft light clothing and kisses him so chastely he almost feels bad for pulling her to straddle him by her hips

all might with a pretty housewife who lets him fuck his stress out on her

wraps her legs around his waist as best she can

all might with a pretty housewife who won't let him feel guilty about the bruises he leaves on her hips and thighs

he deserves this, really, a caring, soft, feminine angel that does all she can to take care of him

just all might with a perfect housewife

[dpr-stay]

Mandated Reporter Pt.3 | Y.T

All Might | Yagi Toshinori X Reader

Here's pt3, almost six months after i posted it on a03... man i rlly gotta finish the next chapter

WC: ~2.3K (next one will be longer i romise)

Warnings: nighteye jumpscare, i haven't watched up to him (only S3 like 3 years ago) so he may be mischaracterised. which holds what is to come in good stead right? oh yeah i lost power halfway through and deleted half of it so that was fun.

Sir Nighteye requested that your boss leave her office so that he could talk to you and she complied, not holding back her curious gaze as she surveyed you.

Unfortunately, you’d already exhausted your quick escapes for the day, so you remained stock still as your boss filed past you, out the door. Leaving you alone, in an office, with a side-kick of one of your suspected soulmates.

He breathed out for a second, as though trying to clear his mind before he looked at you again. You didn’t really want to make eye-contact, a bit fearful about what he was going to say, so you averted your gaze. He cleared his throat.

“I’m here, looking for you, on account of one of my good friends.” Oh god, you thought, he’s definitely talking about All Might. But that made no sense, how could All Might even know who you were without ever having seen you or heard your words to him? How would he have known your name?

Unless, pro-heros had some sort of secret soulmate technology not released to the public. It made sense, that pro-heros could have a machine to maybe find their soulmates, if only to make sure they were safe even if they hadn’t met yet. But wouldn’t that kind of ruin the magic or the allure of soulmates in general?

Hey, wasn’t All Might not even supposed to have a soulmate? “Despite what you,” he paused to tilt his head at you, looking at you over his glasses, “or your boss may think, I’m not here on behalf of All Might.” Sir Nighteye’s words snapped you out of your train of thoughts, your eyes finding his again as you focused back on what he was actually saying. He quickly blinked.

“I’m here for my friend, Yagi Toshinori.” You didn’t recognise the name. He was able to gauge that through the tilt of your head. He cleared his throat again and adjusted in his seat before looking back at you. “He’s the man who you ran into this morning.” He said, voice a little snarky. Your eyes widened, your jaw slightly dropping open. The man you ran into, your other potential soulmate, was also apparently familiar with Mr Nighteye, close enough that Nighteye would come to your work. 

A sinking feeling emerged in your gut. If Sir Nighteye was close enough to both All Might and the man from earlier, could it mean that they might know each other? Would that also mean that Toshinori (not scrawny guy, as you had dubbed him) and All Might would be soulmates? Was it even possible?

Nothing made sense anymore, most of what you thought you knew about soulmates was falling to pieces around you. A headache appeared in the forefront of your brain and you groaned. There were too many things to consider.

But no, Toshinori had clearly said “You’re my Soulmate.” Well, less clear because he was stuttering, but you got the point. He didn’t say it like “You’re my soulmate?”, he sounded sure. Which was scary, but also meant that Toshinori and All Might, if they knew each other, weren’t soulmates.

Suddenly, you snapped back to the present, remembering the man in front of you. You gave him a look, hoping to convey your confusion. How did he know your name? How did he know where you worked? Did the scrawny potential soulmate send someone after you when you ran away?

Nighteye harrumphed, and you realised you said that last part out loud, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Toshinori did not send me after you.” He said with an air of finality, finally speaking after watching you internally monologue, crossing his arms over his chest. “In fact, he does not know I’m here now and he hasn’t told me about this morning, yet.” He tacked on the ‘yet’ after a pause. Your eyes squinted at his words.

“So, how do you know what hap-”

“My quirk,” He began in the middle of your sentences, and you immediately fell silent, prepared to roll your eyes at what you assumed to be his bragging, “allows me to see into the future.” You simply nodded and he sighed, seeming to be annoyed at something.

“When I make eye-contact with people, I am able to see their future.” You nodded again, before his words truly set in. Your eyes snapped to look at his, and the tension in his shoulders released. 

“You understand now.” He stated plainly. You weren’t entirely sure you did. He seemed to catch onto that.

“I saw you in Toshinori’s future.” He seemed to get a bit flustered here, averting his eyes and raising a hand to cover his mouth. “You two were very… close.” He let the implications hang. You spluttered for a second, letting him adjust his glasses, the lenses of which seemed to flash as he pushed them up his nose.

Your thoughts rung through your head, quieting some questions while amplifying the others. This Nighteye guy seemed convinced that Toshinori was your soulmate. That left the question of All Might, what had Nighteye seen about All Might. He’d said earlier something about you thinking he was here for All Might, does that mean that he knew that All Might could be one of your soulmates? Maybe he was here to convince you away from All Might?

Perhaps All Might and Toshinori already knew each other and were soulmates, but acknowledged that it was too dangerous so Nighteye was being sent in to try and cut out All Might from your mind as a potential option. Your mind went blank for a second, the words “All Might” racing through your head as you kept repeating them.

It kind of sounded like a soap opera or a bad conspiracy theory, that you will admit, but you were already struggling to comprehend the events of the past 24 hours, let alone what was in store for you. And anyway, wasn’t All Might not supposed to have a soulmate?

“W-why are you here?” You eventually stammered out and Sir Nighteye paused for a second.

“Well, I saw myself here.” He said simply before looking down for a second and continuing quietly, as though talking to himself. “It’s typical of Toshi not to tell me, he has a bad habit of keeping his worries to himself.”

You logged that, storing information about Toshinori or Toshi. Really, Toshi was quite a cute nickname. You’d use it in the future. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you registered that thought. God, you were already thinking about the future with this guy. You really had to clear up one thing though, what were you gonna do about All Might?

“What about… the other thing?” You raised quietly, watching as he appraised you. He paused.

“What ‘other thing’?” He asked and you considered that, raising an eyebrow.

“Y’know… The other thing.” You kinda moved your hands to try and gesticulate your point. His eyes followed your hands but his expression remained unaware. After a few seconds you tried again.

“The other…” You coughed here, trying to ease the blow. “The other… man?” You almost said it like a question, watching as Sir Nighteye reeled back in his seat.

“What other man? Are you already dating someone?” He asked, and you remained puzzled before realising he asked a question and shaking your head. At your answer he looked confused. “You’re not dating anyone, so why ask about another man?” He seemed almost bewildered. So obviously, he didn’t know about All Might. Which raised a whole lot more questions but you weren’t able to voice them before he continued.

“And a question I have is, why run away from Toshinori? Sometimes he can look a bit disheveled but he’s a good man.” Nighteye seemed to be getting a bit defensive about his friend, and you couldn’t blame him to be honest.

If one of your friends' soulmates had seen them and then ran away, you’d also be a bit offended on their behalf.

You watched the man who seemed incredibly intimidating five minutes ago begin to get frustrated at your supposed lack of warmth towards Toshinori. The way he was describing him seemed like he hung the stars in the sky, and you began to feel a bit bad, though you were wondering apprehensively what Toshinori had done to endear such a man to him so immensely.

“It’s just-” You begun, cutting him off midway like he’d done to you previously. He turned to you, a slightly haughty look on his face. The words were hard to get out, preparing yourself for all sorts of reactions to your words.

“It’s just… he’s kinda not my soulmate?” Nighteye looked shocked, which you could tell was a slightly uncommon expression from the way his face seemed to contort in pain.

“He’s not your soulmate? What do you mean?” He demanded and you winced.

“Well, someone else already said my words. I think I said his, you probably wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, but he didn’t say mine.” At this point you kind of expected him to close up and start talking about the three soulmate problem, about how All Might was too risky to have soulmates, and that you and Toshinori would just have to accept each other.

But he didn’t. He just kind of… seemed sad. Or disappointed. You weren’t sure why he looked so sad for something that didn’t really involve him. He obviously cared for Toshinori and wanted him to be happy, but he seemed truly disheartened.

“You’ve already met your soulmate?” He asked, tone sort of cold. You nodded.

“Who?” He asked sharply and you took a breath in. Should you answer? It felt weird to but it would be worse not to. You whispered your answer.

“All Might.” His head stuttered. It would be imperceptible if you hadn’t already been looking at him. For a second, it looked like he was about to laugh. That threw you for a loop, because how did his emotions change so quickly?

“Y-your soulmate is All Might?” He asked again, as if to check that his ears hadn’t deceived him and you nodded unwillingly. This was All Might’s side-kick after all, everything you said to him would go back to All Might. He might think that you were crazy, especially since y’know All Might wasn’t supposed to have a soulmate. Maybe some crazed fan, who isn’t able to put up with not having their celebrity crush as their soulmate. You hoped he didn’t because that probably put a damper on your chances with the man.

“W-well,” You hadn’t know him for long, but you could ascertain that him stuttering was quite out of character. “I suppose that does explain some things.” He seemed to be going back into his mind, and reanalysing of what he had seen of you and Toshinori. He mumbled to himself for a few seconds, variations of “but…” and “was I wrong?” coming from him quietly.

You began to feel slightly unnerved, a bit taken aback how easily he was accepting your words, so you interjected his mumbling.

“H-hey, shouldn’t you already know this? Aren’t you supposed to have seen the future?” After you spoke he glared at you blankly.

“I’m not able to know everything. I just get to see some of the events.” He spoke reservedly, as though he was trying to hold back his ire and failing.

“So…” You trailed off. “Kinda like a weather forecast.” It went quiet for a second before he let out a chuckle. One singular chuckle. The sarcasm made the situation almost unbearable. You cringed.

After he registered that he let out a chuckle, he seemed to go through something. His facial expression changed rapidly, almost like before but with more despair etched into it. He seemed resigned when he spoke again.

“I believe I have to go.” You jolted in shock. Just like that? He stood up from where he sat at your bosses desk, wiping off invisible dust from his pants. You just watched him.

You felt a strange sense of disquiet letting him walk out the door, as though you should be asking more questions or as if there was something he wasn’t telling you. It nagged at you even as Sir Nighteye walked past you out the door. You turned from where you were standing near the doorway, having remained on your feet for the entirety of that unusual interaction, watching him walk away, one of his hands reaching up to rub at his mouth.

He paused before he reached the lift at the end of the corridor, flipping around to make eye-contact with you. You dropped your gaze, a bit embarrassed at being caught staring. When you shot a look up, he was still staring at you. You waved awkwardly, barely moving your hand away from your body, as the lift opened. He just let out one more imperceptible huff of what you assumed was laughter at your expense before his eyes furrowed, looking to the floor, as the doors closed on him.

You stood still in the doorway of your bosses office, completely and utterly confused at what the hell had just happened. The list of words you could use to describe your befuddlement was quickly getting smaller and smaller every time something weird happened to you, and you were apprehensive about when you’d run out of adjectives.

You were quite shocked that he just stood up and left, no niceties or even saying goodbye. Just up and walking out the door. It seemed to fit him though, from what you had parsed of his personality. You hoped that, despite the fact they were friends, Yagi Toshinori might be a little more lax.

You realised, as you were walking back to your cubicle, mind in the clouds and ignoring the hawk-eyed stares watching you, that you had not asked Sir Nighteye to not tell Toshinori about All Might.

pebis, whatevre will happen next?!?!?!?

[whirlybirbs]

— BRUISED EGO ; PART TWO ; TOSHINORI YAGI ; 俊典

summary: he should have waited for you. but no, toshinori felt like he had something to prove. now, roles are reversed and he needs your help. pairing: younger!toshinori yagi / f!reader ; hero name: derecho word count: 5k tags: afab!reader, fingering, oral (male receiving), piv, sex pollen trope but make it canon specific, dirty talk, praise kink, denied feelings, deeply needy fucking, size difference, toshinori being a good old fashioned lover-boy (again), enemies-to-coworkers-to-lovers hits hard a/n: oh wow a part two,,, i'm sick in the head ← previous | the tag

This ain't great.

This is, uh, bad actually.

Like, Toshinori has absolutely no idea what to do, bad. 

For Christ's sake, he's All Might. He should have known better. He should have known to wait for you — but no, he just had to calm his nerves by beginning your usual shared patrol an hour early. 

It's been one week, two days, six hours, and thirty-seven minutes since he last saw you. Not that he's counting. It's not like he's suddenly acutely aware of the time he's spent apart from you, or anything. 

Japan is locked in a heatwave. 

(Or, maybe it's just the fever in his bones.)

Large, calloused palms dig into his eyes as he leans back against the rooftop's barrier and groans. Toshinori drops his head against the iron railing in defeat, sending a twang through the hot air. Sweat is running down his back beneath his suit, tracing the curve of his spine.

Oh, and he's hard.

Painfully hard.

Like he said, this ain't great.

The call went out that they spotted the same love quirk user from last week holding some sex workers at gunpoint. He should have waited. The two of you could have handled him easily. 

But, no. Toshi had to go and think he had something to prove. 

He groans again, pounding his knuckles to the gravel.

It's going to be all over the evening news. That clip of him, panicking, and absolutely decking the very-much-not-a-real-violent-threat-of-a-man in the face on reflex after being hit with his quirk. He couldn't help it. It was like... a knee-jerk. It's like suddenly you're being touched everywhere and nowhere. It's strange. Sort of violating. It... I-It was just all he could do, okay? 

And he apologized! Plenty! A-And Officer Tsukauchi said it was fine, that he had it handled, as a bunch of officers began to help the now-unconscious offender out of the storefront's debris.

...Toshinori's phone is ringing.

He has half the mind to ignore it.

But it's the guitar riff from 'Bad to the Bone'. 

It's you.

He barks out a huffed 'shit' before digging his phone from the pocket in his belt. Even your picture glowing alongside the phone call notification is enough to make his cock throb. 

It's not even racy. It's blurry. It's in the All Might Agency's lobby. You're smiling. It's such a rare sight. You're holding up your official hero license and a big thumbs up.

He took the picture a few years ago. It was a big deal, a huge win. Your hair was a little shorter, and your hands weren't as scarred from Pro-Hero work as they are now. And god, that smile. 

...Jesus, you're just happy and he's this horny? 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

Toshinori picks up on the last ring.

"Where the hell are you?" comes your voice, cutting through the sound of wind — he can hear the thrum of your bike's engine in the background, "I've been looking all over for you, and I just got a call from Tsukauchi — are you alright?"

The sound of your voice is making his mouth dry.

"I'm fine."

He's not fine.

He's sitting here, aroused out of his mind and in pain, trying to battle through the mind-numbing, knuckle-breaking heat of desire. He can't even come close to the word 'fine'. He's a mess. All he can do is sit here and sweat because he knows no amount of trying to jerk off is going to solve this problem.

He's so not fine.

You can tell.

Tsukauchi gave few details — just that whatever the hell happened sent All Might hightailing it outta there. And, after getting a brief description of the prep, you had a pretty good idea why. 

Your fingers twitch against the throttle.

"Send me your location," you say sternly; the glint of your helmet's visor catches the passing lights of traffic as you talk into the built-in comms system, "I'm coming to get you."

"No," he grits out, tugging on a piece of his blonde fringe, "N-No. I'll be fine. I-I am fine. Just need some time—"

"Toshinori," you bark back as you check for an opening between cars; your whole body is hot and it's not just from the summer heat, "I'm not asking. Let me help." 

...Oh.

Help. Right.

It's ambiguous and sort of ominous but, if he squints, it's the first time either of you has even come close to talking about what happened last week. Y'know. When he kissed you in your entryway, the way he ate you out on your couch, or the way he absolutely fucked your brains out in your bed. All because you had been hit with the same quirk influence he's riding out now.

His location pings up on your visor's HUD. 

"Be there in five."

And you hang up.

Because — I mean, what else is there to say? You are going to do what you have to to help him. Just like he did for you. Then, maybe it will be even! And then, maybe, this feeling that has been eating your heart away for the last week will disappear. Right? And things will go back to normal!

...Right?

Ha! B-Because, yea, that feeling is definitely guilt, right? Like... You... uh. You feel bad. Because... he had to... help. And you haven't helped him. Right. Yes. 

Yep.

Not because you can't stop thinking about his hands on your face, cradling you tenderly as he drove himself deep into you. Not because you can't stop thinking about the way he looked up at you with his tongue flat on your clit. Not because you can't stop thinking about his voice, or his smile, or his laugh, or his—

The telltale roar of a motorcycle sets Toshinori Yagi's stomach ablaze. 

Immediately, the air gets thicker like the feeling before a summer thunderstorm. He knows you're here. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and before he can rub the feeling away, you're there. 

On the roof.

"You look..." you breathe out as your feet touch down with a crackle of lightning crescendoing around you, "Like shit." 

(Truly he looks divine. Rosey cheeks, his chest heaving. His eyes are half-lidded. There's a bead of sweat that runs down his jaw, down down down, down his neck, then disappears beneath the collar of his suit.)

Toshi sighs. It's a ragged sound. He pulls his knees up, trying his best to hide the apparent tenting across the front of his hero costume. He scrapes his rough palm down his face.

"Don't start—"

"Did I look this bad?" you ask, voice hiking an octave as you move towards him. You keep an even distance. Your face is morphed into a look of pity, but there's something in your voice that makes the knot in Toshinori's gut wind tighter, "He got you good, huh, Tosh'?"

He can't do nicknames right now.

"Ha, ha," he grits out, the trademarked All Might boisterousness dying in favor of the lackluster, dry humor he was born with, "You're real funny, zippy."

It's your favorite flavor of him. The man is out of the limelight. Though he may still be bigger than life biceps and thick steel-corded quads, the facade has fallen. 

"And you're a mess," you sigh as you squat down, rummaging in your pack for something. It's a water bottle. You offer it as you watch him. 

The condensation kisses his fingertips as he takes it and pops it open. 

He takes a long drink, caps it off, then presses the cold bottle to the back of his neck. It does little to dissipate the tension in his broad shoulders. The sensation arguably makes it worse. Another bead of sweat runs down his back.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

We're never gonna talk about this again echoes somewhere in the back of his mind. At this rate, they're gonna have to talk about this. Because once is just a fluke. Twice is a problem. A real problem. 

He places the bottle back on the ground after another long sip.

Your heart is hammering in your chest. Despite your desperate attempt to remain levelheaded, you know exactly how he's feeling at this moment. You gotta admit, his self-control dwarfs your own though. You could hardly keep your hands off him the second he walked in your door. 

You wrestle your bike helmet off, and Toshinori has to quell the wave of longing that rises in his chest. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and neck. He suddenly wishes he made you look this way — windswept and sweating. 

The jet-black helmet lands on the rooftop with a thwat. He can see his ragged, flushed reflection in the black visor. 

Your voice is soft. "Hey."

It brings his focus back to you. His mouth is dry. Big blue eyes swivel as they rake across your face — and he hates how his cock jumps at how softly you speak next.

"What do you need right now, Toshinori?"

His chest is rising and falling a little faster. The usual steadfast expression on his face has melted into something doe-eyed and boyish. It makes your heart clench. 

"Are you sure about this?" his voice cracks as he swallows roughly. It's a non-answer. It's a metaphorical boot-kicking-in-the-door, though. Toshinori rakes his hands through his hair, "I-I... I can wait it out—"

You exhale tightly; your rationale is clear. Totally unbiased and very much not rooted in an unabashed obsession with the way he touches you. 

"Tosh', you helped me. I won't sit around and let you suffer when the same hand is dealt your way."

He drops his head back again. Another twang echoes through the night air. 

"Plus," you offer with a slow, crooning smile, "I've always been a sucker for a damsel in distress."

It takes a second.

Then, one blue eye cracks open. Long, dark blonde lashes flutter a bit — and then, he's smirking. 

Ha. 

Right.

"You sure about this?" he asks, his head still dropped back and shoulders slumped. 

"Sure as I'll ever be, big man."

That's the only permission he needs.

Toshinori Yagi is fast. He has to be. He's the Number One Hero in all of Japan. Top of the popularity ranks, fan-favorite, best stats in history. Being fast is part of the gig. 

He's fast to sit up and catch you in a kiss that feels like a bruise — tender and aching and miscalculated. It's teeth and tongue and then a deliciously low noise that rumbles up from his chest and sets your whole body on fire. 

His grip is rough — his fingers fist your hair as he drags you closer, his mouth presses firmly to yours as you scramble against the rough rooftop. It's... 

Needy.

You're crawling towards him.

"That's my line," he breathes out, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth and pressing back in to steal your breath. His grip tightens in your hair. His voice is so low that it feels like someone lights a fire under your skin. It's rough and breathless and so not All Might.  

"It's a good line," you mutter back as your brain stutter-steps. You pull away to crawl closer and straddle his hips. Your knees pin his cape to the gravel. You're kissing him again, letting his feverish need set the pace, "Worked on me."

You can feel him through your hero suit. 

His suit's pants are thick, made of some patented material you can never remember the name of — but his arousal is more than apparent as you settle your weight down against him. The added pressure earns a throaty hum of approval. 

You always forget just how big he is in this form — his hands dwarf your hips as he drags his grip down, allowing himself a little bit of an edge when he unceremoniously bucks up against you. 

"Sorry," he slurs out, his boots scraping against the roof; it's utterly pathetic, "Sorry—"

"Stop apologizing," you breathe out as you follow his lead and continue the movement, grinding your hips down, "I asked what you needed—"

"Anything," Toshinori's words rush out with his blue eyes screwed closed tightly as he grips your hips and slots his mouth back against yours, "Anything you'll give me."

...How is he so romantic? Even in a moment like this? Even when he's blindly seeking friction through his pants, bucking his hips against your own, as he moans into your mouth. 

"Hands? Mouth?" you parrot his line of questioning from your previous encounter; it seems to knock some sense into him.

His breath catches. Blue eyes widen minutely. You feel him twitch beneath you.

"God, mouth, please—"

Who would have ever anticipated you'd be here? 

Who would have ever anticipated you'd be helping him work off his belt, work off his tactical pants? Who knew you'd be watching his taut stomach flex as you push his costume's top higher up his torso, who knew you'd be dragging his stupid All Might-themed boxers down his narrow hips to spring him free? 

Who thought you'd ever see him like this, so desperate and winded and needy? 

Not you, that's for sure. You never thought, in all those years you sat in prison, this would be your life shortly after: giving head — happily — to the man who put you there in the first place. 

And here you are, slipping him a tentative look as you wrap a gloved hand around his hardness and smirk. 

"Is this okay?" you murmur up at him, on your hands and knees. You're teasing him. He knows this. 

Toshinori laughs — an incredulous bark. It's all you need to hear as confirmation. 

The sound splinters into a choked moan when you bend down and take him into your mouth.

He sees stars.

This is going to be a problem.

All he can do is lean back and grip the guard rail over his head for dear life because ho-oly shit. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. His biceps go taut, his knuckles white, and he tries so hard to keep his hips still as you hum around him. His whole body shudders — his thighs tensing under your other hand as you balance above him. 

This is — son of a bitch. Your grip around the base of his cock tightens incrementally, and as you lap at the head of his cock, his thoughts die in a strangled burst of pleasure. 

Then, his hand lands on your cheek.

The touch is reverent. Holy. Tender and adoring.

"Jesus, Der'," he slurs out, his chest heaving up and down as he tries to keep his eyes on you; he can't stare too long. The sight is too much. Too pretty. Mouth full of him, "You're such a good girl." 

There it is. 

The little bit of praise he slipped you before. 

If the iron rail creeks beneath his tightening grip, neither of you pays it any mind. 

You're on your knees, gloved hand around his shaft, watching his face contort into something so wonderfully steeped in bliss. You've got more important things to mind rather than the structural integrity of some stupid rooftop rail. 

Like the way his stomach clenches — the way his abs tighten. Like the way he says your name or the way he chokes out a nervous laugh when you take him just a litttttle deeper. 

"Fucking shit," he hisses; you make a mental note to rib him for his language some other time. Hearing him curse like this is a hell of an indicator for your ego that you're doing a good job, "Der', if you keep that up—"

"What?" you rasp, spit connecting your mouth to his cock, "You'll cum?"

Something snaps. 

It's a flash of red and blue and silver and blonde, his cape tearing through the air. 

Suddenly, you're pinned to the rooftop — gravel scrapes as your boots kick and grapple for purchase. Your elbows scuff against the ground. The wind is swept out of your body and he's kissing you so roughly you swear you taste blood. One of his hands is locked around your jaw. You're effectively trapped. 

All you can do is let out a shaky, startled, yet painfully aroused laugh. 

His other hand isn't gentle — it's tearing at the bottom half of your suit, unceremoniously snapping the button of your tactical pants open and shoving his hand down the front of them. You can feel a slight shake in his fingers as they delve past your underwear and slip into your folds.

"I need you," he hisses; his eyes are dark, and you can see the edge of frustration building. You know the feeling. 

Another kiss.

Suddenly, there are two fingers in you. 

You whine against his mouth.

He doesn't waste any time. He can't. Not when all he can think about is splitting you open on his cock. You're right here and you're soft and beautiful and fuck, he can't even think straight when you clamp down on his middle and ring finger. 

"Be nice," you warn between pants and whines and whimpers. It's an empty threat.

"Or what?" he chirps back, working his fingers in and out; his voice hitches along the syllables, trying his best to sound unaffected by the little breathy sound you let out when he kisses your jaw, "You'll cum?"

It's your turn to laugh. Your hands grapple with his cape, trying to anchor yourself in any way possible. You fist it as his fingers continue the task at hand: opening you up enough to take him. His knees nudge your legs open a little bit farther. Toshinori's body feels like it's on fire. 

His heavy, hot cock drags up the inside of your thigh and he shudders. 

His face is pressed to your shoulder in a flash; it's good because he doesn't see the blissful smile working its way across your face as our own arousal builds. 

"You're soaking wet," he strangles out; his pride is overshadowed by the embarrassing need to have you. He feels like if he doesn't, this raging fever will just get worse and worse and worse. 

"Par for the course," your words hitch on a hot wave of arousal as his palm grinds down against your clit. You grip his wrist, trying to ignore the tell-tale shake in your legs. His hand is holding your face.

"At least I'm doin' something right," he whispers, his breath hot against your cheek as he relinquishes his fingers from your heat and drags your mouth across your jaw, "Y'think... Think you can...?"

Take him? Yea.

You're a brave girl. 

Yea, that shouldn't be a problem. 

What is a problem is your riding gear and hero suit — but Toshinori can't be bothered. He's grappling with them for you, hauling you into his arms as he drags them down enough. They get caught on the tops of your boots, but he doesn't give a shit. Not when you're here, spread, and glistening before him. Not when you're in his lap, half-dressed, and trying to maneuver yourself down onto him with some semblance of grace. 

Everything is bigger when it comes to Mr. Double Detriot Smash.

Again, you're a brave girl. You're not going to shy away from the upgraded dicking down you got last week. Hell, that was great. Filled you up perfectly, and hit all the right spots... and now, you're realizing that the already tight fit is going tobe a littttle tighter. 

Your knees are like jello as your fingertips dig into his shoulders. Your hair is wild — and you're sweating. He's no better off; there's a crease of worry in his brow, even amidst the blinding heat of desire that's eating him up inside. 

He knows he's big. He's huge. He's... 

This is the first time he's ever had sex in this empowered form. 

Not like he advertises this as a service.

He'd be lying through his trademarked smile if he said he wasn't nervous — but there you go, giving him just another reason why he should buy a ring tomorrow and give you everything you've ever wanted because fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, you're so tight and hot and wet and the sound you make the second you sink down on him—

"God, yes, Tosh'."

The gasp that wrings itself from his mouth is utterly pathetic. He doesn't care. He truly can't even think straight — all he can do is dig his fingertips into your hips and slam his mouth against yours to muffle the whines crawling up his throat. 

"Stay right there," you whisper; there's an edge to your voice of warning. He's trying to listen. He's trying to be a—

"Good boy."

You're holding his face and he can't seem to catch his breath. His boots scuff in the dirt, his brows knit, and he inhales sharply when you clamp down on him for good measure. Fuck. Shit. God, nonono. He needs to move. He needs — c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, please.

"Der'—"

You're kissing him again — and then you move. Slow at first, a little hiccup of your hips. Then, more assured, more confident. An easy up, then down. Then again, and again, and again. And again. 

"God, yes," he nearly cries; he smothers his desperate moan into a kiss that melts away time. Toshinori's hands are trying to find purchase, trying to help guide you up and down his cock as best he can. He doesn't want you to do all the work — he wants to help, "You're so fucking good, Der'."

"Y-Yea?" you breathe out, your entire body shuddering at the praise. Your hip tightens, and you don't even have the wherewithal to consider the cramp. You're not stopping for anything.

Not when this is, like, the hottest thing you've ever done. 

"You have no idea," he melts into another kiss that's all tongue and adoration, his bare thread composure snapping up like his hips in a testing manner, "Lemme fuck you, please, Der', please, please, I promise I'll be good—"

It certainly felt good.

All you can do is hold onto his shoulders. 

If you've learned one thing in the time you've known Toshinori Yagi, it's that he's a man of his word. He holds promises in the deepest homes of his heart, ensuring that nothing prevents him from honoring them. He's dedicated entirely to those around him and to seeing them prevail. Toshinori, even on his worst days, never makes a promise he can't keep. 

So, promising he'll be good?

I mean — it depends on the definition, doesn't it?

If 'good' is desperate, pathetic, fast drillings of his hips as you cling to him and gasp? If 'good' is filthy, muttered praise into your collarbone as he slams into you again, and again, and again?

If 'good' is scrambling in the gravel, being pressed flat as he takes you from behind?

Then, yea.

He's really good.

He's incredibly good — especially as he presses his chest to your back, and wraps his arm around your front. His fingers are greedily pushing through your folds as he keeps up his thoroughly rough pace. The thick, calloused pads of his ring and middle finger grace your clit and you nearly scream. 

The gravel is biting into your knees and palms but you don't care. Not when his mouth is on your neck and he keeps saying your name over and over and over and over again as he drives you into the ground. Not Derecho. Not some tender version of a nickname.

Your name. 

The hot fire of your arousal is building steadily — the wet, explicit sounds of him pushing his cock into you over and over again as he pins you are doing plenty, but it's the way he says your name that really seals your fate. 

Toshinori isn't here right now. Come back in two business days. He's lost in the bone-deep influence of this quirk, hellbent on filling you up and proving he's a good boy. He can give you everything. A ring, a house, a life — three more motorbikes and whatever you want on top of that. 

Fuck, he loves you.

Your fingers dig into the rooftop. 

"Oh, fuck, Toshi — yes," you cry; there's a crack in your voice, "Right there. K-Keep... Keep doing that—"

"C'mon, I wanna f-feel you cum," he babbles as you bury your face into his elbow bracing his weight, "Come on, Der', you're such a good girl, you're taking me so well, I know you c-can—"

Everything is Toshinori. His breath is hot against your neck as he pants, and his voice — so low and honeyed — is right in your ear as he moans.

Even now, he's ever so selfless.

"I need you to cum first," he grits as his fingers work your clit just a little faster, "C'mon, Der', you're doing so good — you deserve it, you deserve to cum so hard—"

Your knees jerk — and the world's best orgasm rushes up to meet you headfirst. A snap of lightning ignites your skin as you lose all control, and so suddenly Toshinori is right behind you, tumbling down the white-hot bliss of the best sex he's ever had in his life. 

He made you snap, he made you lose control, h-he made you cum—

His composure shatters. There's a guttural sound wrenched from deep in his chest and it's delicious. He finishes with a series of frantic thrusts that make you whine. His mouth is on your neck, your cheek, then your mouth. 

You crane yourself back, humming delightfully into the kiss that quells the rolling tide of desire into something softer. 

His whole body shudders as the after-quakes of your orgasm ripple along him. All Toshi can do is smother his sounds into another kiss. This one is slower. It's needy in a different way. 

When the kiss finally slows, it takes a second for him to peel his eyes open.

You look thoroughly wrecked. 

Your expression is that of a woman exhausted. 

Toshinori is suddenly aware of his own bulk, his own weight. Gently, he presses a hand to your cheek as he pushes himself up and off of you. His muscles burn — and pulling out of you makes his entire chest ache. 

The feeling wrings a gasp out of you. 

You exhale slowly, through pursed lips. Then, you brace yourself up on your elbows and hang your head. Toshinori flops gracelessly onto his back, his arms and legs spread with his half-hard cock sloped against his stomach. Your slick is coating him. His pants are half down around his ankles, and his usual up-right bangs have sagged. From heat or exhaustion, you're not sure. 

It sure as hell is cute. 

"You okay?" you ask after a second, taking him in as he begins to catch his breath. 

"Oh, yea, just peachy," he rumbles. The thousand-yard stare into the evening air is a hell of a thing on him. 

It makes you bark out a laugh.

Toshinori lolls his head to the side lazily, taking you in.

Your knees and elbows are bleeding. You're picking out the gravel stuck to your palms. You're in no better of a state — your pants are half on, wrenched down over your riding boots, and your uniform's top is pushed up over your breasts. His orgasm is leaking out of you, and the insides of your thighs are coated with your own arousal. Your hair is a mess. 

You're both messes.

You laugh again — and his own laugh starts shortly thereafter. Before you two know it, you're both locked in a laughing match that only ends when you try to reach to shove his shoulder. Your abs burn. Toshinori tries to muscle the grin off his face but fails.

Fuck. 

Fuck, that feeling hasn't gone away. 

It wasn't guilt.

Mayday, mayday, abort, abort, it wasn't guilt. He's smiling at you in the moonlight, looking so utterly wrecked and handsome and gentle—

His hand moves, a single crux finger gracing the curve of your arm soothingly. It's slow. Tentative. Hesitant. Not too much, not too little. 

Toshinori's voice is rough with sheepishness.

"Are we, uh, are we never gonna talk about this, too?" he asks. 

The touch and the question make your heart kick into a stutter. 

You swallow roughly.

"I..." you drop your head, as you wet your lips; play it cool, "Is it something you... want to talk about?"

"...Do you?"

A non-answer.

Your lashes flutter as your stare widens. You open your mouth, about to say something, but suddenly both of your phones are blaring with a city-wide alert. 

It takes a second for it to register — and as suddenly as the moment came, it went. 

ALERT, ALERT, ALL PROS REPORT TO CITY HALL, MULTIPLE HOSTAGES, ARMED GUNMAN, ALL PROS REPORT TO CITY HALL, ALERT, ALERT!  

You're struggling to haul your pants up as All Might fumbles with his belt. You hop on one foot, cursing as he scrambles for his phone in the gravel.

"You gotta be kidding me," he grits quietly, thumbing through the notification as you struggle in the middle distance behind him, tripping into your pack as you try and button your pants. 

"Time to go?" you ask pathetically as you try to ignore the feel of after-sex between your legs. 

"I guess that conversation is going to have to wait until later," he says apologetically, bending to grab your helmet. He offers it as you shrug on your pack; there's a sudden cocky confidence seeping back into his posture, "So let's make this quick, shall we?"

You swallow down a rush of worship. 

"I guess so," you remark easily, again trying your best to seem cool. That's your whole persona after all. Little miss spiteful, cold, rough-around-the-edges...

Beautiful, perfect, lovely, Toshi muses as you shove your helmet on and jut your chin his way. You flick your eyes toward the edge of the building.

He's already got a running start. 

"After you, All Might."

"Race you there, Derecho." 

[pseudowho]

Yagi Toshinori/All Might x Reader

Fluff, suggestive

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

All Might was strong, and soft. You knew this before you started dating (which was an operation performed strictly in secret, so wildly publicised would it be, to be seen on his arm in public).

Candlelit dinners in Musutafu's finest, instead became quiet nights in, with faithful security guards ushering you to the Might Tower penthouse where Toshinori waited, fizzing with excitement.

Instead, Toshinori took delight in stealing your blushes through deliberately poorly-timed whispered compliments. His array of vintage pet names would sound corny, were he any less sincere. It hadn't taken Toshinori long to cotton on to the glee to be found in a secret love affair.

And it hadn't taken long for you to retaliate; which was how you found out how soft the powerful All Might really was.

"I set you free for the rest of the afternoon, young ones! Spend your study time wisely! Strive to be the best you, that you can be!" Toshinori boomed over the heads of the students, filing out before him.

He spun, turning and bending down to you with that familiar trademark grin...only, heartfelt and wicked now, instead of fixed. His voice lowered barely enough to escape the students' notice.

"Of course," he intoned, his breath grazing your ear, setting a shiver down your spine, "my honeybee is already the best she that she could be."

You slapped a handful of books down on the desk, a frisson of electric sending you erect as you turned to him with a warning look in your eye. The warning look quickly died, at his boyish smile and natural warmth, unable to fight a man that you knew absolutely meant it.

Later, you approached him in the busy corridor, schooling your expression to that of polite disinterest in greeting a passing colleague.

"Yagi-san--"

Toshinori jostled you, sending papers tumbling to the floor, and apologising profusely in a dramatic hush, bending with you to collect the scattered reports from the floor.

"I apologise-- I really am sorry-- gosh, what a mess!" As people channelled around you, Toshinori's fingers plaited briefly with yours, his voice lowering again. "Not that messy is something my pookie identifies with, though. Not yet."

You dropped the rest of your papers, stuttering as Toshinori scooped them up with a flourish, standing with you and bundling them back into your arms. You stumbled, blushing as he clapped an enormous hand onto your shoulder with a laugh, and a thunderous farewell, leaving you stranded and skittish in the corridor.

In the lunch queue, you felt a shadow darken your tray, and turned, looking up. This time, Toshinori barely even bothered to alter his tone, instead hiding behind the student and faculty's food-related distraction. He plucked a tiny steaming basket from the self-service window, dropping it onto your tray with a muted thmp.

"Dumplings...for my dumpling."

You snapped, grabbing his usual cold brew from the fridge, and popping it onto his tray, smiling sweetly up at him.

"I'm lucky to have such a cute guy choosing lunch with me."

A blush burned over Toshinori's cheeks like you had slapped it on him. You felt a roar of success as, when you were called forwards, you saw Toshinori fumble his tray with enormous hands, his coffee splatting to the floor to his stuttered apologies. You left with a flick of the skirt and a smirk on your lips.

Between lessons, in the stream of shouting students, you felt yourself scooped in one great palm and effortlessly shepherded aside, hearing Toshinori's gravelly tones announce your departure; "My dear, could I borrow a moment of your time to discuss a lesson plan?"

You loaded a bullet as Toshinori pulled you round the corner, sniping him before he could take his shot.

"Darling, I must say--"

"What's such a handsome bear needing with me, in a narrow little corridor?"

Toshinori gasped, a single broad palm pressed to his chest, staggered by the force of his b-dmp. His blush rose from the collar up. He reached one trembling hand out to you as you walked away, leaving him stunned in your wake.

As the day wound to a close, you entered the staffroom, to find Toshinori and Aizawa stood, talking at the window. Toshinori grinned, faltering just so as you approached him with a honeydew smile.

You looped your hand through the crook of his elbow as if you were in black and white, pecked his cheek in a chaste little kiss, and fired off the killshot.

"I've missed you," you chirped, "Hubby."

A strangled choke left Toshinori's throat, and he almost buckled, gripping the window frame hard enough to make it crack with another hand clutching his heart.

Aizawa shot you a look of despair as you walked away, looking between you and Toshinori, who had yet to regain his usual colour. Aizawa called after you as you left, sniggering.

"You can't just do that to him. Hey! Come back! You can't do that to an old man--"

"Aizawa-kun, please--"

You called back over your shoulder. "He had it coming, Shouta. Turns out he can dish it out, but he can't take it!"