I May Ot May Not Have Found The Ruby Ring To Your Long Term Katsuki Bf Proposal Fic From Under Th Same

boobs too big

pro hero!bakugou katsuki x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — swearing, bit of spice + implied smut, 4.7k words, for plus size readers and/or readers who have a larger chest size

a/n: room was inspired by this fanart; [f/c] = favourite colour

You had just finished work for the day. It was around 5pm and you knew that your boyfriend, Bakugou, would be finishing up his patrol about now. You packed up your things and left the office, saying goodbyes and thank you’s to your colleagues on the way out. It was a quick walk to the train station. The mauve and orange sky filling you with awe. The breeze and was cool and slight, ruffling your hair and blouse gently. You got off in two stops and walked to Dynamight’s agency.

Sometimes, he would pick you up from work. Sometimes, you would come to his agency after work. And some other times, you two would just meet at home, especially if it had been a long day or one of you had the day off.

Today, you wanted to surprise him since you two had a great (wink) time last night and he had left so quickly and early this morning on call. You were left craving your hero’s touch and affections and what a better way to let him know than by surprising him after work.

The receptionists recognised you when you walked in, greeting you and letting you know that Dynamight wasn’t back yet, but he should be shortly. You thanked them and headed to the elevator, taking it up the top floor where his office was. Let me rephrase that, his office was the top floor.

Once you hopped off the elevator, you could see his empty office through the glass walls. You push the glass door open and enter, taking in how messy it was since the last time you had been in here (which was last Wednesday). You placed your bag down, resting against the leg of his large wooden desk. The scorch marks across it making you smile.

You came around to his seat, seeing the picture he had on his desk of you two at the beach. The frame was decorated with pasta pieces, a craft project you had taken too in the last few months. It made you giggle. You remembered that day at the beach. It had been so hot and Katsuki had been complaining the whole time about his quirk going off. And about you getting sunburnt. He was committed to lathering you up every two hours, especially since you were in a bikini that he ripped off that night back at the rental place. It was when he had first admitted to you how much he loved you. Not with words of course. No, you knew by how he had taken such good care of you that aforementioned night and you had (of course) reciprocated his feelings.

You looked away from the picture, rolling up the sleeves of your [f/c] blouse before bending to put pens and pencils back in their holder, sticky notes in a pile, empty the sharpener, and so on. You continued to tidy his office, moving from the desk to the shelving and seating. He really was messy, you thought to yourself. At home, it wasn’t too bad since you were there, but alone, damn was he a—

Your thoughts are interrupted by the ding of the elevator. You turn around, mid paper-picking up, to see the love of your life stomping angrily (as per usual) out of the elevator. His gloved palms collide with the office door and he’s huffing inside. When he notices you he shouts, “[Y/N] WHAT THE FUCK?! What’re you doing ‘ere, you brat?!” You laugh, placing the papers in your hands on his desk and walking up to him. He meets you first, and your hands are on his chest, you head tilted up.

You look so sweet, so kissable in this moment, and Bakugou can’t resist you. His sweat-laden gloves grab at your waist and you tilt your head back even more. You lick your lips and the way he crashes his lips down onto yours has you weak in the knees. You grip harder onto his suit, hands soon moving to the back of his neck.

He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, you can feel it as your breaths and moans intermingle and become one. His tongue seeks yours, rolling over your bottom lip and teeth. You fall further into him, your knees weakening even more. And he catches you, smirking wider and intertwining his tongue with yours. You can taste the remnants of the steamed salmon and rice bento you made him for lunch.

You moan particularly loudly into him, only further further inflating his massive ego. By the time you two pull away, you’ve got saliva dripping down your chin. You’re both panting, foreheads resting against one another. He chuckles at how pathetic you are for him pretending he’s not the one wrapped around your finger.

He takes off one of his gloves, wiping the spit from your chin with long, sweaty fingers. You hum softly and pull away from him, smiling. “You’re gonna ruin my makeup if you keep doing that.” You give him a teasing disapproving look to which he smirks, “I’ll do a lot more than fuck up your makeup, love.” He’s got that lewd look in his eyes and you have to turn away, hoping he won’t catch sight of the blush stirring in your cheeks.

You return back to what you were doing before, picking up the documents that had fallen off his cluttered desk and onto the floor. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Bakugou stalks over to his desk chair, pulling it roughly and plonking down in it. He’s got his feet up on the desk, taking his other glove and mask off.

He looks over at you and then around his office. His brows furrow, “Oi! Have you been cleaning up my office?” You look up at him and nod, smiling gently. He looks away, “Tch.” You watch as he crosses his muscular yet scarred arms across his chest, taking his feet down. “You mad at me, Suki?” You raise an eyebrow. He avoids your gaze as he gets up from the desk and walks around it, towards you. But, he doesn’t come to you.

Instead, he walks past you, not flicking a glance your way the entire time, over to the sofa at the far end of the office. You continue picking up the last pieces of paper that have fallen when drops a box at your feet. You’re startled by the noise and yelp, “Fuck, Katsuki!” You shift to look at him and he’s still scowling. He meets your gaze for a moment before rolling his eyes. “It’s the new merch…” He finally looks back at you. “For you.”

You’re immediately all giggles, tense shoulders relaxing. “Really? You got me new merch?!” You’re grinning from ear to ear, and you can see him get even more annoyed. That was one thing about him that had taken a while for you to learn. Even though he looks pissed off, he’s actually really happy that you’re excited.

“Thanks, Suki!” You step around the box and give him a hug. He grumbles but accepts it, patting the back of your head. You pull away from him and crouch down to the cardboard box, not paying attention to how he strides to his desk, plopping down in his chair to watch you.

You take the lid off and squeal. On top is an oversized black hoodie with a white skull on it. He knows how much you love his skull merch so this was really precious to you that he would bring out more.

Bakugou actually took part in his merch design. He didn’t come up with all of the designs, but he would meet with his team of designers to go over different ideas they had and finalise the next line of merch. This was unique in that most heroes outsourced their official merch design and manufacture while Bakugou preferred to be involved in his. He claimed that he didn’t want any of these ‘extras’ screwing up his designs, but you know that it was because he really wants for his fans to have nicely designed and good quality official merch.

It felt so soft and thick! This was definitely going to be your new fav hoodie. Your current one (which was another one of Dynamight’s merch) was falling apart at the seams after almost daily wear for the past five years. You set it on your lap and continued going through the box. This new range’s theme was skulls. You couldn’t stop smiling and giggling to yourself as you looked at each item, mesmerised. Bakugou watched you, nervous and happy-annoyed that you seemed to really like it. He had designed them with you in mind after all.

Beneath a pair of skull track shorts, you see what you think you’re seeing but not too sure if you’re actually seeing this so you end up pinching yourself. Dynamight underwear? There’s a reason why heroes don’t bring out official merch underwear and that’s because it takes a lot of work to figure out a flattering and attractive design that would make fans spend almost triple the price of regular underwear to buy. You’re in actual shock as pick up a skull patterned bralette by the straps.

The base colour is a pale orange with the opaque skulls printed on top. It blurs the line between Halloween and Dynamight merch, you think. But you also think that it gets extra points for versatility. The fabric is soft to the touch. Actually, it’s the softest material you’ve felt yet. The clasps at the back have also been flattened for comfort.

Bakugou stares at you intensely from his desk as you look at it. This is the moment he’s been the most nervous for. It was this piece that he wanted you to love out of the whole range as you’ve been complaining for a few weeks about how hard it is to find comfortable underwear that lasts a long time and actually looks good.

And he’s done it!

Just kidding. The bra looks like it was made for a pre-teen going through who just started going through puberty. You’re looking at it now wondering how the fuck that was supposed to hold anything in place.

Bakugou senses your dismay and pipes up, “You don’t like it?” You can hear the hurt in your voice. You quickly put the bralette back in the box and shake your head. “No! No, it’s not that, Suki-chan.” You’re waving your hands dismissively. “It’s just that…” Your hands fall from your chest to your knees and you look down, at the bralette. It’s so pretty and you know he must of worked so hard on it.

“Tch.” You look up, catching the end of his eye roll. “WHAT?!” He looks at you expectantly now, brows knitted together. You bite the side of your lip, anxiety jitters moving throughout your body in wavelike motions. But then you chuckle slightly, doing your best to shake it off. There’s nothing for you to be anxious about. “Suki,” you giggle, lifting the bralette up so he can see the front. You bring it next to your chest, straps hanging from your fingers. “What is this gonna hold?”

In an instant, his cheeks heat up and he’s grumbling to himself that it’s a fine size. You can see the blush extending from his cheeks to the tops of his ears and down the back of his neck. You smile and get up from your place next to the box, coming over to him and sitting on his lap (which he has no complaints about). You hold the bralette up to show him what you’re talking about, “It’s really pretty , Suki-chan. But it’s just so small. You know that… You know.” You’re giving him those pleading eyes. Those eyes of ‘please, don’t make me explain myself’. But, he just looks at you, blushing and scrunching up his brows.

You soothe the wrinkles with the pad of your thumb, but as soon as they’re gone, they come right back. He takes the bralette from your hands, holding it against your chest. And now, he’s beginning to understand what you were talking about. He huffs and places it down on your lap. It’s quiet for a few moments before you speak up, “I know you worked really hard on it, Suki. It’s okay. We’ll just—”

“Your boobs are too big.”

You’re staring at him, eyes wide, jaw ‘bout to drop. The fuck did he say to— “What?” He shrugs, “It’s not my fault your t—”

“Okay!” You hold up your hand, unable to tell whether he’s joking or not. “Thanks babe. Really.” You’re tone is dripping with sarcasm as you stare him down. But he’s unfazed by this sudden change in your mood. He shrugs again, barking out his laughter as he does so, “I wouldn’t want it any other way, you know?” He’s leaning over, in for the kiss. But you’re not in the mood.

You get off his lap but his hot hands grasp your wrist before you can really go anywhere. You back around to look at him and he’s got that sharp, lopsided smirk across his face. “I’ll make you a new one, eh?” You’re staring at him, brow raised, confused. But he doesn’t notice (he does but chooses to ignore it) and pulls you in for that kiss you tried to evade.

And it works, after a few moments the bralette sizing dilemma is forgotten. And so is the fact that the walls of Dynamight’s office are literally glass so anyone who happens to come up to the top floor of the agency can see into his office and consequently, the lewd undertakings that ensue.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

It’s been about week since Dynamight had given you a look at the new merch. After that afternoon in the office, the matter of the bralette sizing hadn’t come up since. You’re beginning to get a little suspicious since your boyfriend has been staying back after patrol ever since. He says it to review patrol reports, but if you knew better (and you do), you would say that it was to work on the bralette design.

It was around 12pm on Thursday when Bakugou called you. You had just gone to lunch break thankfully and picked up immediately. “Oi. Come by the agency after work. There’s something I wanna show you.” His voice was gruff and you thought you could hear the laughter of Red Riot in the background. “Mhmm, what do you want to show me?” You were trying to conceal your smile, but knowing Bakugou, he definitely could hear it from the other end of the line. “Tch. You’ll find out when you ‘ere, alright?” You giggle in response, telling him “Okay” and “I love you” before hanging up the line.

And now, you had just left the train station and were walking towards Dynamight’s agency. You couldn’t help the grin that was plastered across your face. You had been smiling ever since that phone call. So much so that your cheeks had begun to hurt.

It wasn’t long before you arrived, greeting the receptionists who directed you down the hall this time. You smiled and followed their lead, walking down the corridor and turning left down another hallway until you came to the design room. This is where all of the merch was designed and tested after manufacture. You knocked on the door, seeing through the little glass window cut-out on the door spiky ash blond hair. It opened after a few seconds and you were met with a woman who you assume to be one of Dynamight’s design assistants.

She had long, dark blue hair with equally blue eyes. She greeted you with a smile and motioned for you to enter. As you did so, Dynamight came up to you and snaked his arm around your waist. You giggled, embracing his tall, warm frame. He smelt like ash and smoke as per usual. He huffed into your shoulder before pulling away, smirking sharply down at you. You returned it with your own, much softer grin.

He had that excited look in his eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel excited by seeing it. “So,” you began, “Why did you ask me to come here?” He laughed, shaking his head slightly at your perceived dullness. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re gonna be my model for the new merch.” You blinked once. And then twice. Sorry what? Did you hear that right? Model? You?

You shook your head, now getting a better look at the room since Bakugou had stepped back. You could see boxes haphazardly stacked in one of the corners while a few sat opened on top of a long grey table. There were a few more assistants seated at the table, pulling the contents out and discussing the merch.

You looked back to the woman standing in front of you and then to your partner. “Um, what do you mean?” You asked tentatively. “Tch.” Bakugou put his hand on your lower back, still gloved and sooty, and led-pushed you over to the table. The blue-haired woman followed behind.

Once you got to the table, Bakugou pulled out the same bralette you had initially been critical of. Except this time, it looked like it actually might fit. He released his grasp on you and held it up to your chest, eyes glinting and lips pulling into another smirk in satisfaction. His red eyes flicked up to meet your own [e/c] ones and he thrust the bralette into your hands. He pointed to something behind you so you turned around, seeing that he was pointing to a little dressing cube in the corner. You put two and two together and turn back around, about to protest when Bakugou spoke over the top of you.

“Oi! Just try it on,” he rolled his eyes. Your mouth formed a hard line and you stared at him for a little before ultimately deciding that it was best to do as he says. I mean, he has put in all of this work to make this bralette fit you. And yea, it is a bit embarrassing to have to try it on when there are so many (not really but) of his employees around. But, he has the best intentions and you love him dearly for that.

You drop your bag against the leg of the table before walking over to the changing area. You pull the curtain shut behind you before removing your blouse and push-up bra to put on the orange bralette. Ah, you think, it feels so soft! You turn and look at yourself in the small mirror on the wall and wow, it really does look and fit so good. The bralette curves and sits perfectly over your breasts and on your under-bust. No spilling or gaping. You’re in awe of how Katsuki pulled this off. But then, you remember that you are dating THE pro hero Dynamight.

You pull the curtain aside and step out, your boyfriend’s sharp eyes on you from the moment you re-appeared. You walk over to him, trying to hide the smirk on your face seeing how his mouth had dropped open slightly and eyes were trained on your chest, blond brows completely relaxed. As soon as you’re within arms-length, Bakugou’s large gloved hands grab onto your forearm, pulling so that you fall into his chest. His arms are wrapped around you, eyes tracing the curves of your chest and then roving up your neck and to your jawline, lips, and [e/c] eyes.

You smile gently and giggle a little before he brings his hand to the top of your head and ruffles your silky locks. This causes you to giggle even more and look down, the intensity of his stare always making you falter.

At the sudden realisation that indeed, you two weren’t alone, you cleared your throat, archiving that cute smile he loved so much and bringing out the business look. You placed your much smaller hands on his chest and pushed him back slightly, earning you an irate noise from the back of Katsuki’s throat. You shook your head before tilting it to the side, “There are other people here, you know?”

He laughs from his chest, his warm breath hitting your face. “Oh, I know.” He’s got this wide shit-eating grin stretched across his face now. Great. You grumble playfully, “Suki-chan, we have to be professional.” He rolls his eyes at you, backing off now, “Tch.”

He takes the sight of you in again, very obviously checking you out. You begin to feel self-conscious with how much he’s staring at you. Automatically, your hands are on the move to cover your chest but you stop mid movement, seeing his eyebrows furrow, and force them back down by your sides. You are his model, after all. How can he improve his craft is you don’t allow him to evaluate his work? But this evaluation was teetering on the edge of shamless eye-fucking.

You clear your throat again, “Yea, I like it. You’ve done a really good job.” Your fingers start pointing to different parts of the bralette as you continue, “The band is really comfortable, the cups fit well, the straps are a good length. I really like it.” You give him a smile and tilt your head after you finish explaining. His hungry gaze lingers on you for a few moments more, tongue darting across his lower lip before he turns away from you.

Bakugou walks back over to the table, standing at the end of it, “You heard her. It’s fine.” You come up behind him and place your hand on his shoulder, standing a bit to the side. “It’s really nice, honestly. You’ve all done a really good job on it.” They nod, returning your grin with their own.

The blue-haired assistant asks if she can take some photos of you wearing the bralette for their quality assurance and fit records, and of course, you agree. Bakugou stands off to the side, pretending to be listening to one of the designers when in reality, all he can focus on is how attractive you look in his merch. 100% eye-fucking you.

It’s not long before you’ve stripped it off and have changed back into your work clothes. Bakugou still has some work to do at the agency before he leaves, so you give a him kiss on the cheek and thank the design team before catching the train home.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

Within the next week, Dynamight’s new skull merch line dropped and it was selling fast. The oversized hoodie and classic skull t-shirt had already sold out. Pro heroes such as Shoto and Deku were seen out in public in the orange and black skull bucket hats. This response from fans and heroes was unprecedented, and you had been buttering your boyfriend up all week about how incredible of a designer and businessman he was besides from being the greatest pro hero ever.

He has been pretty busy since, trying to manage his hero work, re-stocking of the merch, and the attention all of this has garnered from the media. In fact, he had just done an interview on the new merch yesterday. And today, your pookie was long gone by the time you had woken up — only at 8am since it was your day off — as he was on morning patrol from 5am to 1pm.

You sat up and stretched your arms overhead, yawning and smiling contently as you looked around your shared bedroom. Bright sunlight was streaming through the white curtains, illuminating the All Might poster on the far wall and shelf full of Katsuki’s All Might merch and trading card collections.

Groaning, you rose from the bed and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and shower. Afterwards, you made yourself a cup of tea and sat on the plush chair in the corner of your shared bedroom, pulling out your journal and writing down the dream you had last night. All was quiet, until your phone started buzzing like crazy. Every second a new notification sounded, sending your phone into a vibrating fit on the dresser. Annoyed and confused by this, you put your journal and pen on the table beside you and walked over to pick up your phone.

You had several missed phone calls by unknown numbers, as well as your friend and pro hero Mina. Bakugou had introduced you two shortly after you two started dating, and you and the pink girl had hit it off immediately. You unlocked your phone, seeing an alarming amount of unread messages. You opened the messenger app and scrolled, clicking on Mina’s chat. Not bothering to read her gazillion messages, you clicked on the phone icon up the top and waited for her to pick your call.

It was only on the second ring when her voice shouted into the microphone, “[Y/n]! [Y/n]-CHAN, ARE YOU THERE?!” You began saying ‘yes’ when she continued, “HAVE YOU SEEN IT?? Everyone’s talking about it!” You shake your head, brows now knit together and eyes narrowing, “Seen what?” Mina gasped, “YOU HAVEN’T SEEN IT?!” You had to pull the phone away from your ear. “No, Mina, I haven—”

“I’LL SEND IT TO YOU RIGHT NOW! THERE ARE TONS OF ARTICLES BUT THIS ONE IS THE ARTICLE!” Your brows only furrow further together. “Mina, what artic—” “OKAY, I sent it to you. NOW, GO READ IT!!” You chose to laugh, knowing that although Mina can be a bit over the top sometimes, she has your best interest at heart. You thank her and hang up the call, returning to the chat and clicking on the link she just texted you.

It takes you to an article titled ‘”Boobs too big.” Dynamight Challenges Standard Sizing of Hero Merch in Latest Release.’ Your jaw drops. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you read:

On a quiet Friday night, Dynamight reveals his true inspiration for making pro hero merch’s first ever plus size underwear range. Not even the previous Symbol of Peace ‘All Might’ attempted to tackle such a challenge. In fact, Dynamight is one of only a handful of pro heroes to ever release official underwear merchandise in history.

In his interview with Juko News, Dynamight explains how he wanted to create merchandise that was comfortable, flattering, and high quality for fans. He said, “I work with the team to design every piece… We [Dynamight’s design team] outsource construction and once that’s done, we test every size and make sure each item is good enough to sell.”

Now, this isn’t anything new. Ever since Dyanmight began selling official merchandise, he’s always had a hand in the creative process. But now, Dynamight admits that it was his long-term partner, [L/n] [Y/n] who is the reason why he’s expanded this new merch range to underwear and larger sizes. The pro hero said, “She’s always complainin’ about her bras not fitting right. It’s not her fault that her boobs are too big. Tch, why not design and make something she’ll actually like?”

Were you actually reading this? Did… did Bakugou actually say, on camera, that your boobs were “too big”. You were going to give it to him tonight.

Your eyes skim read the rest of the article. Struggles for larger-chested women in Japan; Dynamight is more than just a hero; call to action for other heroes to make larger sizes; excitement around re-stocking and future merch.

You put down your phone and walked back over to your chair, collapsing in it like you had just done crossfit or something. You couldn’t help but start giggling, which turned into full-blown teary, stomach-aching laughter. Bakugou was the love of your life, even if he was a bit rough and brash at times, he cares. And you know that when he said those things, he really did mean it with your best interest at heart. But he doesn’t need to know that you know that last part yet, yea?

you didn't realise they had a gf

bakugou, eijiro, hitoshi, izuku, shoto (in that order) ⋆｡°✩— college!au (i live in australia so idk if it's the same cause i based these on my uni experience so far), you're a lil flirty def some ulterior motives and you find out that they're taken, smau

their omega

alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, 4M1F, reader is not from japan, smau + fic

summary: you are an omega who has been kidnapped for underground auctions. while investigating these auctions, a drunken denki buys you. but you don't end up with one new alpha. you end up with four.

a/n: based on this poll; thank you to everyone who voted! i hope this doesn't disappoint

★ = nsfw

moodboard

chapter one: good purchase

chapter two: touching grass

chapter three: shopping!

chapter four: stray kitty

chapter five: WHO TOLD THE COMMISSION?!?!?!!

chapter six: turmoil

chapter seven: how the tables have turned

★ chapter eight: bathroom shenanigans

★ chapter nine: ruined leggings

chapter ten: birthday boy

★ chapter eleven: i wanna build a nest, suki!

epilogue

they see you in lingerie for the first time v.1

ua boys x gender-neutral reader⋆｡°✩ — implied smut, fluff, swearing, 680 words

pro heroes, villains

midoriya izuku

⭑.ᐟ he's blushing hard; whole face red asf, tops of his ears are red, chest, back of his neck, all red. his mouth is open slightly as he looks at you dumbly.

you laugh at him and he just shakes his head, nervously. you come over to him, swaying your hips. his complexion gets impossibly more red and he starts looking around. you pull his face back to look at you as you straddle him. his hands lightly rest on your hips whilst his eyes continue avoid yours like the plague.

you end up peppering his face with kisses and he starts rambling how hot his honeybear looks, looking down and then back up at you.

bakugou katsuki

⭑.ᐟ he's literally eye-fucking you with that shit-eating, possessive grin on his face as soon as you come out. he's got a slight blush in cheeks, palms beginning to sweat as he wipes them on his clothed thighs.

his obvious enjoyment of looking at you causes you blush hard and hide your face behind your hands as you laugh from embarrassment. when you put your hands down, he’s coming over to you.

you close the distance between you two reflexively and he grabs you by the waist, pulling you into a rough kiss, smirk still plastered across his face as he tells you how fucking sexy you are and how you’re all his between kisses.

I’m sure you know the reason behind why you wake up sore and sleep-deprived the next morning.

kirishima eijirou

⭑.ᐟ eyes racking up and down you, trying to take in if he’s seeing what he thinks he’s seeing. he's not even blushing; he’s used the lack of clothing you wear at home by now.

you do a little spin and he gives you that pointy smile you love so much. he leans back, running his hand through his spikey hair.

you stand right in front of him now and he’s leans forward now, hands starting at your outer thighs and running up to your waist. he pulls you down onto his lap so you straddle him now. he looks you up and down for a moment and then tells you that you look so good for him.

you two kiss… and do much more that night.

todoroki shoto

⭑.ᐟ he just stares at you, brows slightly raised, mouth ever-so-slightly open, betraying his surprise.

you giggle, happy that you’ve been able to surprise him. seeing you in such a good mood places a small smile on his face.

he doesn’t move until you’re close to him. he stretches his arms forward, hands capturing yours and guiding you to his lap. he smiles softly at you at you, groaning when you let go of his icy-hot hands and run your fingers through his hair. he tilts his head back slightly, enjoying the feeling. you begin leaving little kisses on his jaw and just below until his icy fingers are on your cheek, bringing your face to his and lips together.

you two lay down on the bed, making out for a while before moving into something even more slow, passionate, and intimate.

shinso hitoshi

⭑.ᐟ he has this lazy look in his eyes until you come out. and then suddenly, it’s like he’s been jolted back to life the moment he sees you.

he chuckles, voice slightly gruff, hand coming up to cover his mouth. with the other, he motions with his finger for you spin. and you do so, enjoying seeing that satisfied smile he gives you.

he stands up just before you get to him, hands stroking up and down your upper arms. “well, this is a surprise,” he raises his brow at you. you giggle in response, your hands finding his chest. he brings you into a sweet kiss, smirk still on his lips.

he asks you about the lingerie; when you bought it, if it’s comfortable, if you like it.

you end up going back into the wardrobe and taking it off, changing back into one of hitoshi’s shirts before you two return to the living room and watch a movie, cuddled up together on the couch. he says something about “enjoying you later”.

downpour

bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ⋆｡°✩ — medieval fantasy!au, size difference kink, age gap (he's mid-thirties, she's late teens early twenties), nsfw, smut, p in v, oral sex fem!receiving, dubcon? (she's known him since she was a kid), unprotected sex (don't be like them!), 4.8k words

a/n: despite what i've said here, he's not the best thing that's ever happened to you ladies

You groan, hearing the thunder roar from the pouring heavens above. The cold rain soaks into your most modest dress, making the embroidered pale yellow fabric cling to your skin. Your hair sticks to your forehead, wild like a bird’s nest. But wet. Your bones ache with the chilly dampness, and your toes squelch in your boots.

As lightning blankets the sky, you ask yourself why tonight had to be like this — the night before you’re supposed to get married. You look behind you with wide eyes, positive that you’ve lost the guards chasing you. Their princess.

You slow to a walk and tighten your grip on the heavy fabric of your dress, hiking it up to your ankles (wench). You’re breathing erratically from running and from your fear of being caught. You already miss the warmth of the castle and the comfortable life you led with your parents and siblings.

“Get it together, y/n,” you whisper. The thunder screeches over your pathetic attempt at self-motivation. With a huff, you look up from your mud-covered boots and gaze at your surroundings. You’ve been wandering through this forest for a long time now. You’re cold, wet, and tired. You need a rest. You whine, seeing the pitch-black forest all around you. At least no animals would try to attack you, right?

You trudge on for a little longer, grumbling to yourself about how maybe you should have just sucked it up and stayed in the castle. But when you think of your betrothed, you remind yourself that this is a good decision. For the first time in your life, you’re choosing your future happiness and freedom. And that’s exciting. It would be even more exciting if you weren’t shivering and sniffling and stumbling every ten feet.

There’s one thing you need right now — well, not just one, but the main one — shelter. You need somewhere to rest for the night. You gaze up, analysing the dense trees and shrubbery. In the distance, you can see the faintest light. With renewed energy, you set off in that direction. As you draw nearer, the light becomes brighter. It’s warm, golden-orange like egg yolks. Like fire.

Feeling both hungry and invigorated, you walk faster. Ducking beneath a tree branch, you see that the light is emanating from a cabin. It’s more like a shack, really, with how small it is. But it looks sturdy, safe, and, most importantly, dry inside.

You run the last few steps to the cabin, panting as you reach the door. You knock on the door loudly, hoping that whoever is inside will show you mercy. No response. You knock again, louder. Still, no response. Growing impatient, you turn the door knob and press your body against it to push it open.

As you stumble inside, you call out, “Hello. Hello! Sorry for intruding, um—” It’s empty. You slam the door shut and rest against it as you gaze around the cabin. A fire burns in the fireplace. The scolding tongues lick the base of a heavy pot hanging above it, casting shadows on the walls and across the furniture. You rush over to it with your hands out, eager to feel the fire’s heat. You sigh as it tickles your skin.

You close your eyes, allowing the warmth to seep into your soul. Your dress soon becomes hot yet damp, a most uncomfortable combination. You kick off your boots and place them by the door before reaching for the back of your dress. You pull at the lacings, loosening them and shimmying your dress down to your ankles. You bend down and grab it, grimacing at the mud splattered on the hem and the deep golden colour of the gown from how wet it is. Draping it over the arm of a nearby chair, you hear the door rattle.

You stand there, paralysed by fear, as the door swings open, revealing a huge, shadowy figure. You scream as the lightning cracks and the figure stalks in. Your hands cover your mouth as you stare at the brute of a man in front of you. The cloak he’s draped in doesn’t conceal his muscular frame, and he carries a pile of wood on his back. Sharp red eyes glare at you, and his full lips are twisted into a scowl.

He growls, “WHAT’RE YOU DOIN’ HERE?!” Your mouth is dry as he comes over to you. His shadow casts your frame in darkness as he drops the wood on the ground. You flinch at the thud, stepping back slightly. Your heart thumps in your chest so hard and loud you feel like it’s about to burst.

You stutter, avoiding his harsh gaze, “I-I’m sorry I-I had nowhere else t-to go. I-I saw your cabin, and I—”

“Made yourself at home, huh?” He grunts. You nod frantically as you watch him untie the heap of wood and throw a few into the fire lazily. The flames crack and pop at the new addition, dimming and then brightening.

“Get out of my cabin!” He grumbles, staring daggers into you. Suddenly, you feel so bare beneath his gaze. You realise that you’re only wearing your undergarments. No proper way for a princess to dress, especially around a man who wasn’t her husband. But you don’t care as you invade his personal space and cling to his arm.

You plead for him to let you stay the night, but he pushes you off and yells at you to leave. Shaking your head, you drop to your knees. You stare up at him with big eyes and quivering lips as you beg, “Please! Please! Don’t make me go back out there, please! I’ll do anything! I’ll be good. I promise. I won’t get in your way. You won’t even know that I’m here. Just let me stay the night! Please!”

He gazes down at you with raised brows and a slackened jaw, unsure of what to make of your sudden outburst. He gulps and looks away from you. Tch. You sniffle as he walks over to the door, expecting him to throw it wide open and force you out.

Instead, he shrugs off his cloak and hangs it on a hook next to the door. Holy moly— Your eyes rake over his toned back. The shadows illuminate his juicy muscles, and you can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth as he turns around.

He grunts, “Only for tonight.” You nod enthusiastically as you try to tear your eyes away from his godly frame. Even the scars marring his skin look heavenly. You wanna take a bite of those biceps with the way they flex and—

“STOP LOOKING AT ME, WOMAN!” He yells. You hum and avert your eyes, getting off the floor. As a princess, you’ve never had to beg anyone for anything before. And you hope that you don’t have to ever again. You shift to standing in front of the fireplace, sighing as the heat sinks into your pores.

He grumbles, “Could you move?” You gaze up at him, confused, as he looms beside you. Nodding, you shift to the side. You hope he thinks the redness of your face is from the fire and not your embarrassment. He takes this opportunity to stir the stew, filling the pot. You watch with curious eyes as he slurps from the spoon.

He orders you to sit down, and you do as you’re told, planting yourself down on the same chair your dress is drying on. You’re delighted to watch his delicious muscles at work as he takes the pot off the fire and dishes out the stew for you to eat.

He hands you a bowl and spoon, which you take, thanking him. He sits on the chair beside you and starts downing his soup at an alarming rate. You stir the hearty goodness, identifying some veggies and meat of some sort. You slurp a mouthful and moan in delight.

The spiky blond stares at you, his cheeks full of stew. You can hear the blood rushing in your veins, somehow flowing more to your face as you gaze at your bowl.

You mutter, “It’s really good.”

“It’s just stew,” he grunts. You hum as you resume eating your dinner in silence. Once he’s finished, he starts cleaning up the dishes. Your cheeks are aflame as your eyes roam his body, content to gaze at him doing domestic chores.

With a deep breath in, you ask, “So, what’s your name?

He grumbles, “What’s it to you?” You shrug, blowing on a spoonful of stew.

His back is to you, washing his bowl as you say, “Can’t I know the name of the man who’s letting me stay in his cabin on such a dreary night?” He’s quiet for the next few minutes, so you assume that he’s not going to tell you.

As he wipes the cooking pot dry, he mutters, “Katsuki.” You hum, your mouth full of stew. That name… There was something familiar about it. Shaking your head, you push the feeling aside. That’s ridiculous, you think. Of course, you don’t know him, right? How could you forget someone so… handsome rough?

You swallow before chirping, “It’s nice to meet you, Katsuki. I’m y/n.” His eyes flicker to you before darting back to the pot. When you’re finished, he stalks over to you and grabs your empty bowls. He avoids your gaze, seeing something he hasn’t seen in a long time.

He’s about to step away from you when he grabs the neckline of your dress. You gaze at him with a crease in your brow until it clicks. You snatch the damp gown from him, but it’s too late. He stares at you with wide eyes as he asks, “Why do you bear the royal crest?” You shake your head.

“It’s nothing, really.”

He grunts, “Don’t lie to me.” He grabs your dress and yanks it out of your hands, dragging you to the edge of the plush chair.

He spits out each word harshly, saying, “Why do you bear the royal crest? Are you from the castle?” You’re screaming at yourself internally to lie despite how awful you are at it.

You ramble, “It’s not what you think it is! I’m-I’m a maid. A maid for the royal family!”

He scoffs, “A maid? Only the royal family is permitted to wear the royal crest.” He discards the dress and bowl on the floor and steps the slightest bit closer, positioning himself between your legs. He palms the armrests as he leans over your quivering frame, glaring at you.

“So, cough it up, woman. You’re either a dirty thief or a runaway royal. So, which is it?” You gulp as you avert your eyes from literally anything other than his perfect body hovering so close to yours.

He grunts, “Said your name was y/n?” His large hand falls to your knee and pushes up the sheer fabric coating your thighs.

“What’re you doing?” You exclaim with wide eyes. He clicks his tongue at you as his rough fingers run across your soft skin. His thumb traces your birthmark from memory. The look in his eyes is soft, reminiscent as he captures yours.

He smirks, “S’been a long time, your highness.” You gulp. What?

He chuckles, “I don’t expect cha to remember me. You were a tiny thing back then.” You blink at him in confusion. Those red eyes, that lopsided grin, and deep voice. A sense of deja vu.

“Sir Bakugou!” You blurt out, staring up at him in disbelief. He eases off, removing his warm palm from your thigh. He nods as he rises to his full height, towering over you. You stand up as he steps back, cautious but excited.

“I can’t believe it’s you! I could barely recognise you with all this,” you say, pointing to his scars and buff physique. “The last time I saw you, I was what… ten?” He hums lowly, his eyes trailing over your matured figure.

He grins, “You’re all grown up now, eh?” You giggle and slap his bare chest playfully, earning you a scowl.

“What was that for?!” He says, his chest rumbling. You laugh, unable to hold yourself back. It’s been so long since you’ve seen each other. So long since you could just be yourself around someone else.

Calming down, you breathe out, “It hasn’t been the same since you left.” He hums and picks up your empty bowl, walking over to the kitchen area.

You follow him, saying, “Everything’s gone downhill since then. Father is always stressing over the constant conflicts between lords, and Mother won’t speak to him most days. And he keeps marrying off my sisters to foreign princes, trying to establish political ties. But how can you try to ally yourself with other countries when yours is falling apart?”

Katsuki grumbles, “S’that why you ran away?” You hum, watching him rinse the suds off the bowl and then dry it off.

You mumble, “I can’t marry someone I don’t even know, Sir—”

“You don’t have to call me that anymore, yea?” He grunts. You’re stunned for a moment before humming in agreement.

He continues, “N’ I’m not just talkin’ about getting married off. Looks like yer finally using that brain of yours.” You scowl at him, earning you a hearty bellow. He puts the bowl away and guides you to one of the two rooms at the back of the cabin. He opens the door and ushers you inside.

In the corner sits a large barrel bathtub, and there’s a stone sink jutting out from the wall. You gulp as you turn around to face the blond.

He mutters, “Water’s already hot. I’ll get you something to put on after, alright?” You nod and hum.

As he turns to leave, you reach out and grab his forearm. You don’t know what compelled you to do something so inappropriate, but you can’t help yourself as you gaze at him.

You say quietly, “I missed you, Katsuki. I miss my favourite guard protecting me and taking care of me. It’s… I wish you didn’t leave.” Your gaze falls from his eyes to his arm and finally rests on your hands wrapped around him. He can’t take his eyes off of your pouty lips.

He grumbles, “I had to leave—”

“But why?” You cry out. “I thought you liked being my guard—”

“’Course I liked being your guard, doll. S’not about that,” he sighs.

“Then—”

He grunts, tugging his arm from your grasp, “I don’t wanna talk about it. Just bathe, for fuck’s sake, will ya?” He stalks out of the room, leaving you all alone. You obey, stripping out of your undergarments and soaking in the water. True to his word, it’s hot. The perfect temperature, actually. The heat penetrates your clammy skin, warming up your bones and muscles.

You sigh, relaxing in the bath. Moments of the past fill your mind. Your days were spent learning how to fence, running around and playing in the gardens, and having picnics by the nearest river. All with your head guard, Sir Bakugou.

You chuckle softly as you remember the day you told Katsuki about your birthmark. You had just learnt what it was from your mother and skipped off to show your favourite knight. You remember how warmly he laughed at you and patted your head when you showed it to him. And how you pestered him about any birthmarks he had.

Feeling too hot, you rise and climb out of the barrel. You wrap a thin linen towel around yourself and dry off. When you’re done, you open the door and peek your head out. Katsuki notices you immediately and comes over to you, thrusting one of his long shirts in your hand. You thank him as you take it from him and shut the door.

After you get changed, you walk out of the bathroom into the main area where bedding has been laid out. Your eyes rove over the glistening waves of a fur blanket; your heart rate picks up. You gasp as callous palms cup your shoulders and gently squeeze them. You gaze back at the man behind you.

He mutters, “You take the bed. I’ll sleep out ‘ere tonight.” You shake your head.

“No, it’s okay. I can—”

“M’not letting my princess sleep on the floor,” he grunts.

You start, “But—”

“Quit being such a brat. Do as yer told n’ go to bed,” he growls. Against your better judgment, you shake your head again. He groans as you turn around. Your bodies are close. Too close for comfort. It’s like lightning strikes between you two with the way your chests ghost each other.

You gulp, your heartbeat growing to be as loud as the thunderstorm overhead. You utter his name, earning a gruff “What?” in response.

“Can I… do something a bit improper?” You ask tentatively. He chuckles lowly, red eyes drifting to the bed before looking back at you.

He smirks, “When do you not?” You hold your tongue, hesitant to ruin the tension between you two. You shuffle that much closer to him, your hands flat against his pecs. He shivers at the feeling of your delicate skin on his.

Katsuki grunts, “You done yet?” You shake your head before tilting your chin up. You gaze at him with big eyes, puffing at your lips ever so slightly. Your hands trail down his abs before roaming up his chest and to the back of his neck.

He groans, “The fuck you want, doll?” You draw the side of your lip between your teeth as you pull him down to you.

You’re on your tiptoes, your lips brushing his ear lobe as you whisper, “You.” His hands are on you in an instant, pulling you into his solid torso. He grabs your chin, forcing you to gaze into his eyes before he kisses you.

You moan into his mouth, thrilled that this is finally happening. That your fantasy is becoming a reality. You tug at his locks as he kisses you roughly, teeth-gnashing and tongues swirling. He groans as he explores every corner of your mouth, his hands roughly grabbing your hips.

He pulls back, both of you panting hard. You grin as you catch your breath, staring at him awestruck.

You whisper, “I can’t believe this is happening.” He rolls his eyes at you.

“Don’t fucking start,” he huffs. He’s kissing you again, much more sweetly this time. His grip on you loosens as he strokes up and down your back, feeling every curve and dip beneath the fabric separating your bodies.

You sigh into his lips, enjoying this change in pace. This time, he sucks on your bottom lip, making you gasp before he nips at it. He gently walks you back until you’re stepping on the makeshift bed, the fur luxuriously soft between your toes. You mumble his name, encouraging a groan from him.

Your bodies part for a moment as you both sit on the fur blanket. One of his hands wraps around your knee while the other grasps your cheek. He pulls you into him and lays you down. Your hands grip his shoulders as he kisses down your jaw and neck. You squeeze the muscle there as he gently bites your soft flesh, gasps falling from your lips.

You whimper, “Kat-suki. I’ve been in love with you since—”

“Shut up,” he grunts into your skin, nipping at your flesh harder. You moan, and he pulls back.

He shifts up, his lips brushing yours as he grumbles, “I don’t wanna hear it. Want you to show me, princess. Think you can do that, f’me?” You whine, nodding furiously.

He chuckles, “Good.” He returns to kissing your neck. You moan loudly as he nips at your collarbones and shoulder. Your hands tangle in his spiky locks, massaging and tugging and then massaging again.

You whine as he sits back and peels his shirt off you, leaving you bare beneath him. He groans at the sight of you, his hands wrapped around your wrists and pulling them down to your sides before you can even attempt to cover yourself up.

“Suki!” You gasp as he grabs both of your breasts, one in each hand, and squeezes them. He smirks all cocky as his eyes drink you in. He lowers himself back down, tongue licking the fat of your tit. You bite your lip as he pinches your nipples, rolling them between his fingers deliciously.

Letting go of one, he replaces his fingers with his mouth and sucks on it. You moan, pulling at his roots. Once satisfied, he moves onto your other breast, licking and sucking on it until you’re whimpering and whining his name mindlessly.

Smirking, he kisses your ribcage, your tummy, hips, and stretch marks. He then grabs your wrists one at a time and kisses them before working up your arms with his lips. Even your ankles, calves, and thighs receive his tender affection.

By the time his head dips between your thighs, you feel utterly worshipped from head to toe. You moan his name as his tongue rolls over your clit, your back arching delightfully as he sucks it. His tongue works wonders between your folds, making you feel like no man ever has.

You cry out as his fingers brush your clit and gently rub circles over it while his tongue laps inside of you. With slick-coated fingers, he eases one into your hole, making you gasp and call out his name.

He returns to sucking on your clit; his mouth is so fucking hot, like the heat of the flames prickling your skin, as he fingers you slowly. He curls his finger when he’s deep inside, making you moan even louder.

His other hand grabs yours and intertwines your fingers. He gives you a gentle squeeze, his eyes watching your every gasp and whimper. Your head falls back as he curls a second finger inside of you, hitting that perfect spot.

You moan, “K-Kat-suki. Please, baby. Please.” He hums against your cunt, the vibrations making you buck your hips against his skilful tongue. He pulls off your sopping pussy, keen to hear more.

He groans, voice hoarse from how well he was just eating you out, “What is it, princess?” You mewl as his fingers press into your gummy walls.

You pant, “Need you, Suki. In me-please fuck!” He slowly pulls his fingers out of you, admiring your syrup dripping down his wrist in the firelight.

He chuckles, “Fuck, you really do need me, huh?” You nod enthusiastically.

“Please, baby,” you whine. He shushes you and shifts to pull off his shorts and underwear. You push yourself up on your elbows; legs spread wide lewdly as you watch his huge cock spring free. Just the sight of it, you moan as even more slick gushes from your pussy.

He comes back to you, large hands pushing you back down and grabbing the back of your thighs. He grumbles at you to wait while he grabs a pillow and places it beneath your hips. He then brings your calves over his lower back, his cock running through your folds. Your back arches as his tip slides over your clit, making you moan.

He coats himself in your arousal, his pre-cum mixing with it before he finally slides in. He goes slow, letting you stretch to accommodate his girth. Your arms tighten around his neck as you pull him down to you, your head resting in the crook of his neck. You whine as he pushes in further.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimper into his skin.

He gently kisses your forehead, whispering into your hairline, “S’okay, baby girl. You can take it.” You cry out as his balls press against your ass, his cock so fucking deep inside of you.

You murmur, “You’re so big. Just give me a minute, kay?” He hums into your forehead, sweetly kissing it and working down to your lips. You sigh into his kiss, your noses brushing as he pulls back. His eyes find yours, mesmerised by the warm glow of your skin from the fireplace, that rosy flush.

He mutters, “You ready now?” You hum, nodding. He pecks the tip of your nose before drawing himself out and rocking back into you slowly. You both moan at the feeling, the stretch of your hole wrapping around him. Your eyes gaze at the point where he’s lost inside of you. You look back up, finding him already staring at you.

He fucks you so tenderly you’re uncertain if that term can be used to describe what’s happening right now. The sounds of your sex rival that of the downpour outside. You squeeze his hand as he hits that pleasurable spot, your eyes rolling back from how good it feels.

He lets go of your hand to tilt your head back to him, needing to see that open-mouthed, lust-hazed look on your face. You sigh in pleasure as the light and shadows dance across your bodies, painting your love-making on the cabin walls. You whimper his name pathetically.

He presses a soft kiss to your lips, groaning, “I know, princess.” He draws out of you completely, earning a whine from you. He tuts at you and manoeuvres your bodies so that you’re sitting on his lap.

You lean down and kiss him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You moan into the kiss, stretching up as he aligns himself with your entrance. You slowly lower down onto him, whimpering into his lips while he groans.

You bounce up and down at him at a leisurely pace, taking your time to feel every inch of his length. You sigh as his cock twitches, pre-cum spilling into you. Katsuki cups your cheek in one hand while the other tightens around your waist.

He grunts, “Doin’ so good f’me, baby.” You moan, fists clenching as more pre-cum leaks into you.

“I’m so glad-I found you, Suki,” you mewl. He groans lowly against your jaw, leaving tender kisses there. You drop your hips a little harder, a little faster than before.

“Fuck,” he growls in your ear. Your tits bounce as you do, the most beautiful sight your knight has ever seen. He grabs a handful of one of your breasts and sucks on your nipple before moving both hands to your hips and helping you ride him.

“I-I m-missed you,” you whimper. Your back arches as you feel those tingles gathering in your cunt, your orgasm building every single time your clit slaps his scarred skin as you bounce on his cock.

You cry out, “Katsuki! Fuck, Katsuki! Baby, I’m gonna cum-fuck!” He pulls off your nipple and pulls you into a passionate kiss. You mewl into his lips loudly, squirming in his hold as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

Pulling away, you scream out as you orgasm. Your back arches so deeply you know you’re gonna feel it in the morning, but you don’t care. The pleasure shuddering through your body is unlike any other. And it’s only heightened as your love groans loudly, his hot seed shooting into you. It coats your walls thickly, forming a ring around your hole from him fucking his cream into you.

You’re panting hard as you sink down on his cock. Your forehead presses against his as you both catch your breath, trying to process what the fuck just happened.

After a few minutes, you chuckle lazily before kissing Katsuki sloppily. His saliva dribbles down your chin when you part, red eyes full of so many emotions (surely mirroring your own). You call his name softly, but he shakes his head and presses another soft kiss to your lips.

He lays you two down and holds you close, pulling the warm blankets up to your chin. You sigh into his side, so happy you could purr from just being with him. From experiencing such intimacy with the man, you’ve been yearning for for a long time.

You murmur, “Suki, I love you. Please, don’t leave me.” Your hold on his torso tightens, and you nuzzle the side of his pec with your nose. He laughs lightly, the sound reverberating warmly in his chest.

“M’not going anywhere, alright? N’ neither are you. You’re all mine now,” he mutters. You hum into him, soaking up his heat and affection and the knowledge that you’re all his.

He chuckles lowly, “Let’s take five, yea?” You nod, peppering his skin with sweet kisses. You close your eyes; no other words or actions are necessary at this moment. You ease your body into him, shifting slightly and getting comfortable.

Running out into a storm was not your best decision, but the man it led you to is.

ugghhhhh this ate so fucking hard omg. idk i'm slowly beocming a caleb girlie someone lock me up and take my ipad away from me.

like he's tryna be so sweet and tender but it's tooth-rotting and you just gotta knock some sense into him😏

˙ ✩°˖ ✈️ mine / caleb x reader

synopsis; your beloved caleb is a deeply, deeply secretive (and dense) man, who somehow refuses to call you his. when you bring it up out of frustration, he ends up giving you more than what you asked for. but who would say no to that?

🍎 pomme's notes - the apple demons took over or something. i love my stupid self deprecating emo king

⋆ 2.1k words / angst-ish (kinda) into suggestive..? caleb is stupid / fem reader / 2nd person

you quickly realize that caleb never refers to you as his.

well, not quite. he'll say "my girlfriend", or "my partner" or maybe even "my pipsqueak". but that's the extent of it. he won't ever say "mine".

after you notice that, you decide to up the ante on your side. if he won't say it unprovoked, surely he'll say it to reciprocate you, right?

and so, you get started on your masterful plan.

leaving lipstick marks on his shirts and going "mine" when he sees them in his bathroom's mirror. tracing a finger down his chest and saying "all mine" with a flirty tone after he's done working out.

hell, you'll even up the PDA when you're out with him and tell a girl that's hitting on him off, simply by grabbing his face and going "mine".

but why the hell won't he call you his?

on the other hand, caleb is going insane from all of the times you called him yours.

the angels blessed him or something, he thinks. his beautiful, stunning, showstopping, gorgeous girlfriend calling him hers. if he wasn't happy about it, he'd be the stupidest man in existence. but thankfully, when it comes to loving you, caleb is the first in the class.

when you get jealous over girls hitting on him and you shoo them off, just by staring them down and calling him yours, he feels like he could melt into the ground and become a big puddle of pipsqueak lovin' caleb.

it makes him think that maybe, just maybe, he could call you his in return. but he quickly chased that thought out of his mind; his love wasn't as pure as yours. you called him yours innocently, with no real strings attached. you didn't entertain thoughts of keeping him away from everyone and everything. of making yourself his entire universe. not like he did.

and so, he refused to call you his, out of fear that he would imprison you in a cage he forged with his own hands. when life clipped his wings, he swore to himself that he'd do anything to make you keep yours forever. his evol would be used to make you float freely, never to chain you to the ground.

well, that was until you confronted him about it.

freshly out of the shower, you walked over to him when he was reviewing some files as he laid in your bed. he smiles when he sees you and sets down the files that previously occupied his attention.

"need me to dry your hair, pips?"

"why won't you call me yours, caleb?"

he chokes at how out of left field that question was and starts coughing. fuck, so you did notice, he thinks.

"am i.. am i not enough? i'll try harder, i promise, but i just. i don't know what i'm missing. it's like you love me, but there's always something missing, and i've been trying to figure it out, but i'm at my wits' end caleb. it's been driving me crazy and i tried so hard to get you to call me yours but it's ju-"

"baby, slow down. you're not missing anything, i can tell you that for sure."

you huff in frustration, dissatisfied with his answer. this is so unfair — you're wearing your damn heart on your sleeve, and yet caleb is not letting you see a sliver of his. you know he loves you, obviously, he's not the kind to fake it all.

but why can't he devote his love entirely to you? why's he so closed off? why does he draw boundaries for you, when all he could do was act on them? you were an adult, you could handle it.

sensing your frustration, he runs a hand through his hair and grabs your wrist, making you sit on the bed next to him. he inhales before explaining himself.

"look, i do love you. you know that, right? i love you more than anything on this damn earth. if you asked me to bring you the moon, i'd get the stars while i'm at it, just to make you happy."

"then why won't you ever call me yours? am i not worthy of being by your side?"

he shakes his head furiously, as if you've offended him by even asking this question.

"pips, you just don't understan-"

"help me understand, caleb! stop shutting me out! i'm capable of hearing it, and i want this — i want us to work! i call you mine, my boyfriend, my love, my best friend, for god's sake, caleb, you're my everything! and i'm just pipsqueak to you? is this some sick joke?"

caleb freezes. what if he comes clean, and you see him in a different light? what if you decide to shut him out, because he's too much? he wouldn't be able to handle it, especially not after he experienced domestic bliss with you.

what is he supposed to say now? bring back how he wishes that he could keep you away from the life you knew, especially when you fought with him to express how you loved living in this world intent on hurting you? how, despite every hurdle life threw at you, you loved living and giving back to those around you? he couldn't do that. not at the risk of driving you away again.

and so he resorts to giving you vague expressions and feelings, in hopes that you'll be satisfied with his usual mystical answers.

"no, no it's not baby. please. i just don't think i can let you know everything yet — you're just so earnest with how you love and my love's nowhere near as kind or pure as yours."

now it's your turn to stare in disbelief. you scoff, taken aback by whatever bullshit your boyfriend just spouted. your love is too pure? what the hell does he think you are, mother theresa? he might just be dumber than what you expected. you inhale sharply, getting ready to unload all the frustration you've been keeping at bay on him. you've loved the guy for your entire life, and somehow, he still thinks that the extent of your love is a PG13 romance movie: cuddling together, and maybe, just maybe, some kissing here and there.

him not taking you seriously and underestimating your love for him somehow angers you more than if you were actually missing something he wanted in a relationship.

"too pure? for fuck's sake caleb, i have needs too! we're not in middle school anymore, are we? i want to have sex with you! i want us to take the next damn step in this relationship! do you not want me like that?"

when he tries to defend himself, you shut him down immediately.

"no, let me finish! i get jealous when you get hit on by other girls! sometimes, i wish i could make it so that i'm the only person you know and talk to, i wish that i could keep you away from others!"

you breathe hard. there are so many thoughts spinning in your head and you just see his purple eyes staring deep at you, as if he's trying to scan how you feel — and that makes you even angrier.

how is it that he didn't take your words at face value right now? why's he trying to read into "the deeper meaning of them" by looking into your eyes, as if they were being more honest than you were being?

caleb, who was the smartest in his class at the DAA, the boy who tutored you through the harder math problems in high school, seemed so damn dense right now.

his mouth opened and closed, as if trying to figure out what to even respond with, but you didn't allow him to do that just yet.

"i love how you're always sweet. i love how you care about me more than you care about yourself. you're so perfect. but i'm so sick of pretending like we're 6th graders in love. do you even know how long i've loved you for? you've been the only one on my mind since we knew each other, caleb. god, even when i thought about dating a guy, i'd always end up looking at those who looked like you. i looked for you in every guy i thought about hitting up."

his jaw tensed at the information. you looked for him in other guys? when this whole time, he was right there, building up the courage to ask you to be more than whatever you were at the time?

he felt like his brain was going to overheat from just how many facts were thrown at him. you wanted to keep him away from the world? fuck, you wanted to have sex with him? he'd dreamt of it, of course he had. when he was back at the DAA and the guys would share their stupid porn recommendations, and he'd never be able to watch anything unless the actress looked a bit like you. even then, he'd felt so guilty.

and you wanted him like that?

and then here you were, sat in front of him. letting all of your frustrations and concerns and feelings out in the open. and caleb felt so guilty — so stupid, really. you were trying so hard to get through to him, dropping hints left and right, and he couldn't even reciprocate that.

so he decided that for once, he'd let go. he'd indulge himself in you, allow himself to take a bite of the apple he forbade himself from ever touching. if you were a trial sent to him by a higher being, then man, was he failing, but if the cost of failure was a taste of you, then he would happily take the loss. again and again and again and again.

you were eurydice and he was orpheus. always looking back, always falling deeper into hell's embrace if it meant one more moment with you.

and if caleb denied himself this — then he'd both be a heartless, cruel man, and an idiot. and he wasn't going to be either of those, not anymore.

so, he did what he does best.

he acted upon it.

"i just feel like i'm not being heard ou- mmph!"

you were on the verge of tears, salty drops lining your lash line when you felt his lips on yours. caleb pounced on you, pinning you down.

devoted, passionate, and a secret third thing.

desperate? who knows. who cares, really. not when he's got you sprawled out under him, reciprocating his kiss. for once, he kissed you like he was hungry for more. like you were his lifeline — not like the soft kisses you were used to.

he groans into your mouth, feeling you grow hotter as you grasp at anything you could hold onto. the sheets, his arms, his neck — and when you settle on clawing at his back during this tempest of a kiss, he thinks he sees the gates of heaven.

breathless, he pulls back and looks at you with a look that could only be defined as hungry.

"i don't love you enough? i'd destroy this damn world in a heartbeat if you asked me to. i'd keep you away from anything that could be dangerous, i'd make you rely on me only — always."

he dives back in, sucking harshly on the side of your neck. littering bites and hickeys on there, caleb could devour you whole. you can't help the sounds that escape you, not when you hear him mutter "mine, all mine. my only one, mine, mine, mine" like a prayer in between kisses.

you gasp, dragging your nails down his back in an attempt to ground yourself as he moves down to your collarbone area. caleb takes a second to breathe, and you hear him speak lowly.

"you are, so, so silly. me, not want you enough? if i were to reveal what i wanted to do to you, you'd be crawling away from this room at all costs. do you know just how much i've held back?"

he kisses your lips again, softer this time, but just as passionate. you're out of breath, mind hazy at the sudden show of possessiveness. caleb is finally, finally fulfilling your wish. who care about work tomorrow and having to hide hickeys? you've only got one thing on your mind, and it's the man latching onto the soft skin of your neck again. he all but growls this time.

"mine. all mine, mine and mine only. is that what you wanted to hear? i'll show you, yeah? neither of us is leaving this room until i make you understand that i want you just as much as you want me — hell, if i don't want you even more, pretty girl."

you nod frantically, feeling like you're on cloud 9.

turns out you were his all along.

he just needed a strongly worded pep talk to understand that.

🍎 pomme's final notes - can i be honest this is so self-indulgent. i want to reach into the screen and beat him up because of how stupid he sounds sometimes like i get it but also you're so sexy and how can you be so dumb like omfg get a GRIP!! STAND UPPPPPPP im pulling my hair out

also maybe one day i'll write smut. i feel like i go insane thinking about caleb and then i cant write for him beyond suggestive stuff so instead i just rock back and forth like a crazy person

the bird in me

hawks x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — bird mating drabbles, throwing up, you're a barista, fluff, sexual implications at the end, 3.5k words

a/n: this has to be one of my favourite works so far

regurgitation

it’s bad. every time he sees you, he can feel the churning in his stomach. something as simple as a smile or wave is enough to have his fist pressed to his lips, loudly clearing his suddenly tight throat.

every time you talk, he’s trying hard not to make a fool of himself (and failing miserably). he’s constantly ahem-ing or coughing, anything to push the rising bile back down his oesophagus.

he wills himself to be a man, to take the acidic burn with pride because he’s fortunate enough to be acknowledged by such a beautiful and intelligent girl. but by the five-minute mark, he’s excusing himself to the bathroom and throwing up this morning’s breakfast.

you thought he was just shy at first, but as it continues to happen, you begin to think he doesn’t like you.

the bell chimes as the café door swings shut. you gaze over the coffee machine, spotting those bright red feathers against the gloom of the night.

you take a deep breath in, rolling your eyes as you drawl, “we closed ten minutes ago, mr hawks.” a nervous laugh, your interest is piqued.

“i know, dove, but i wanted to see you,” he says confidently, only to clear his throat right afterwards.

your brow furrows, and you say more bluntly than intended, “well, i don’t know. you’re always trying to run away from me. your usual?”

“yes please,” he says, waltzing over to you. he rests his weight against the bench, watching you brew his double-shot cappuccino. ahem. he continues. “and i’m not trying to run away from you. never have—”

“doesn’t seem that way to me,” you cut him off. he coughs ostentatiously into his elbow, his face heating up from the sheer strength it’s taking to not throw up right now. he can’t help it!

you continue as you pour the thick foam into the takeaway cup, “you’ve only got few minutes for me before you’re dashing off. i mean i know you’re busy, but do you not have any better excuses? like, for a pro hero, you sure are shit at lying.” you’re glaring holes into the creamy milk as you shake chocolate powder on top of it.

you mumble, “if you don’t like me you can just say so.” the snap of the lid on the little paper cup echoes through the empty café. hawks hears his heart crack a little at your words. not like you? how could he not like you?! wasn’t it obvious—ahem!

he gasps, “bathroom?” you roll your eyes.

“at the back. hey!” your arms are raised as you glare after him, watching as he rushes to the bathroom.

you whisper-yell to yourself, “what the fuck?!” you slide his hot coffee to the edge of the bench and huff, fed up with his perplexing behaviour. if the night wasn’t so still, and the streets surrounding your tiny café so quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him violently throwing up in the men’s bathroom. but you do.

your eyes widen and then crinkle as you wince, wishing that such disgusting sounds weren’t ricocheting off the walls. you pull the bow of your apron loose and shrug it off, leaving it on a nearby table as you make your way to the bathrooms.

you hear the toilet flush as you body slam the heavy, olive green door open. white lights sting your eyes as you search for any sign of your most loyal customer. you find him resting against an open stall door, eyes closed, lips chapped, and forehead beading with sweat.

“mr hawks?” you say gently. his golden eyes shoot open and find you immediately. he smiles incredulously, and his voice is thick as he rasps, “this is the men’s ro—”

“shut the fuck up. are you okay?” you shift closer to him, but he moves back, calves hitting the toilet seat. you stop in your tracks, caging him in the small stall. his eyes dart to the side as he weighs up how to get out of the corner he’s backed himself into.

seeing his nervousness, you sigh. you turn and begin to walk out of the bathroom. he catches your elbow by the sinks and pulls you into his chest. you yelp as you hit his solid frame, utterly bewildered. his large hands gently squeeze your upper arms as you tilt your head up, gazing at him.

you mutter, “what is it?” he shakes his head, eyes dropping and unintentionally resting on your collarbone peeking out of your uniform. great, the pro hero thinks. that familiar sensation is reignited at the base of his throat.

he chokes out, “i-just give me a minute.” he let’s go of your arms and wanders back into the stall, shutting the door and bolting it this time. you groan, wrapping your arms around yourself as you listen to him throw up again, his chunky symphony amplified by these fuck ass tiles.

interjecting the flush of the toilet is the stall door slamming open. out strolls a lazily grinning hawks. he chuckles, “don’t tell me you have to clean in here.”

you sigh, “of course i do.”

he stops in front of you and shrugs, “then give me the mop and bucket and i’ll take care of it, alright?”

you shake your head, muttering, “look don’t worry about that. are you okay? what’s going on? you just threw up like twice. do you have food pois—”

“i feel great, actually. now, about what you were saying earlier,” he reaches out and takes your hands in his awfully clammy ones.

your shoulders slump as you huff, trying to pull your hands back. “hawks—”

“ya know, i really wish you would stop calling me that, dove.” he draws you in close, his body heat seeping through his clothes into you.

you retort, “and i really wish that you would stop interrupting me.” he opens his mouth, sucking in a breath as though he’s about to speak, and then he doesn’t.

the stifling air is quiet for a moment before the pro hero mutters, “sorry.” you shake your head as your mouth draws into a hard line. but you inevitably soften as he jerks away from you, coughing.

quietening down, he rasps, “i really like you, okay? i’m not trying to run away from you. quite the opposite, actually.” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, concerned that you can feel his heart jumping out of his chest. at least his stomach isn’t lurching anymore. he really did need that release.

seconds pass in tense silence as you wait for him to explain. he sighs, “i swear, y/n, i like you.”

“but,” you say, emphasising the ‘t’. he looks away from you, gathering his courage for what he’s about to say.

he breathes out, “don’t laugh, okay?” you nod, about to tear your hair out from the suspense. this man really knows how to dodge questions, you think.

“every time i see you… i wanna throw up.” he mutters that last part at the end as he gazes down at the minute crevices between your bodies.

your eyes widen as you exclaim, “you what?!” he grip tightens on your hands as he shakes his head fervently.

“because-um-it’s a bird thing. i wanna throw up because i like you, okay?” your mouth hangs half-open as you try to register his words.

he brings your hands to his lips and chastely kisses your knuckles. you stare at him in disbelief, stuttering, “i-it’s a bird thing? you-you wanting to throw up every time you see me?”

he nods, “technically, i want to regurgitate every time i see you. the bird part of me wants to prove to you that i’m a good partner.”

that night, you make sure he’s had some food and electrolytes before drinking his cold cappuccino.

preening

ever since you two started dating, it’s become a routine for kei to preen his feathers just before bed, and for you to simply sit across from him on the sofa, reading a book, scrolling on your phone, or watching him.

but tonight as you take up your usual spot on the couch, kei plops down next to you. he gently nudges your arm, catching your attention.

you mumble, “what is it, babe?” as you lock your phone. he kisses from your cheek to your jaw, earning an airy giggle from you.

he mutters into your skin, “will you preen my wings tonight?” your eyes widen as you let out a stuttered breath.

you pull back, saying nervously, “k-kei, honey, you sure? i’ve never preened anything before.” he hums as he slides off the couch and sits on the floor in front of you. he holds up a bottle of oil and you take it from him while explains how to preen his feathers.

you start with the feathers closest to his body and work your way out, from top to bottom. as your fingers work over his feathers, pulling debris from them and realigning the barbs, your bird boy hums.

you drop another piece of tarmac on the coffee table, saying, “you could hide a fucking road in here with how much rubble i’m pulling out right now.” kei chuckles and sighs, feeling you remove yet another remnant of today’s battles.

“are they always this dirty?” you question. your hero nods. it takes longer for you to preen him than if kei were to preen his feathers, but he appreciates your delicate and loving touch.

and the next night, he asks if you can preen his wings again. and soon, your routine has changed to you preening his feathers every night before bed.

gift-giving, scent marking, nesting

the cold winter nights warm and scrawny branches bloom with flowers, signifying that spring has arrived.

it was subtle at first, kei would bring home flowers for you every few days, claiming that his perfect girl deserved to be spoiled. and he claimed the same when he started making the most delicious dinners for you two every night, and when he started gifting you the most luxurious necklaces and shoes and bags you’ve ever owned.

when you woke up this morning, your bed sheets smelt of citrus. so fresh and divine, you sighed and rolled around, cocooning yourself in the quilt to get another whiff of that scent. you liked the smell so much that you got out of bed still wrapped up in the quilt, and dragged it around home with you all day (it’s your day off).

as kei closes the door behind him after another long day, you rush up to him, quilt left lonely. you throw yourself into his awaiting arms, sighing as his zesty scent washes over you. you sigh, melding your body against his as you inhale his musk.

he chuckles softly, “hey, dove. missed me, huh?”

you hum and mumble into his compression shirt, “you smell so good. since when did you smell like citrus though?” pulling back and pointing to the quilt on the sofa, you continue, “i thought you just bought some new laundry detergent or something.”

kei shrugs it off, claiming that he bought a new cologne (lies). but not before he draws you back into his arms and rubs the side of his face and neck all over your face and neck. sighing, you let him off the hook but resolve to keep an eye on him.

rummaging through his duffle bag, he says excitedly, "d'you wanna see what i got you, dove?" you press your lips together, disappointed by kei's spending habits lately. but not for long as he hands you a sealed box of the perfume you've been eying for years (it's vanilla2 by maison tahité for me).

you squeal in delight and thank him profusely, smothering his cheeks and lips and stubble with kisses before skipping off to your room to try your new perfume (kei rocks you gently as you have a cry over how blessed you are to have such an attentive partner).

for the next week, you swear you can hear shuffling in the early hours of the morning. as soon as you lift your head off the pillows though and search the dark room for some kind of movement, everything stills. you usually fall back asleep, but tonight is a bit different.

again, you wake to muffled sounds emanating from somewhere in your apartment. groaning, you bury your head into your pillow, only to rise from it a minute later when you hear a loud thud. roused from your sleepy daze, you get out of bed and caress the door frame for wayyy too long before you eventually find the light switch.

your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness quickly, and everything looks the same as it usually does. but something is missing. or rather, someone.

you step out of your shared bedroom and stare down the hall, seeing a familiar glow curling its fingers beneath one of the doors. as you approach it, you realise that the light is coming from kei’s office.

but it’s not just the light that is coming from his office. this sound, like something sliding against the floorboards, resonates from behind the wooden door.

you stand outside his office, leaning your ear against the door to eavesdrop. but the noise stops abruptly, as if kei (who you assume is inside) knows you’re right there.

you turn the doorknob and push the door open, revealing a dishevelled-looking kei amidst a heap of blankets. you blink at him dumbly, sleepily, and confused.

“kei,” you drawl. “what’re you doing?” he chuckles nervously as he stands from his crouched position and comes over to you, tripping on a blanket’s edge in the process. you catch his upper arms and help him to steady himself.

he gazes at you frantically, muttering, “’mnotdoinganythingchickpea. whydon’twegobacktobed?” his hands encircle your wrists and gently push you back toward the door. you shake your head.

“keigo takami,” you say in that serious tone parents reserve for when their child misbehaves. “what’re tryna hide from me?”

“nothing!” he exclaims far too loudly and quickly. you raise your brow at him while your eyes trail over his messy hair and half-unbuttoned pj shirt. you catch a glimpse of his toned muscles and golden-brown snail trail beneath the soft cotton. you gulp and avert your eyes to the mess behind him. he side steps, blocking your view.

you groan, “keigo.”

“please dove, promise i’ll show you later, okay?” he pleads.

you roll your eyes, sighing, “you cooking up a grand masterpiece or something back there?” he nods and hums. you let him have his way, following him back to bed and curling tight into his chest, hoping he won’t be able to get away without waking you.

for the next week, you’re banned from entering kei’s office. he claims that he’s working on a big surprise for you, which melts your heart and makes you laugh.

one night after dinner, he takes you by the hand and leads you to his office. dramatic as ever, he makes you close your eyes before he opens the door and guides you inside. when you open your eyes, you see the fruits of his efforts.

before you lies a little nook crafted out of throws and cushions. you giggle as you take in his little nest. it looks so cosy and inviting. 

you exclaim, “kei, this is so sweet!” you turn around and warmly hug him, content to nuzzle into his zesty scent. he kisses your forehead and nudges you closer to his nest. he holds your hand as you sit down in the centre of it, relishing in his overpowering musk. he sits next to you and cuddles with you, peppering your face and neck with tender kisses as he mumbles against your hot flesh how much he loves you.

interpretive dance and singing

it’s the peak of spring; the flowers are in full bloom, the skies are blue, and the temperature is just right for you to wear all your favourite dresses.

tonight is like most other nights. after preening kei’s feathers, you take a shower. you’re soothing moisturiser into your skin as your boyfriend comes into view. you gaze at him in the mirror, smiling brightly. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, ignorant of the damp towel enveloping your body.

pouring body oil into your palm, you tell him to move. but he doesn’t budge an inch. instead, he wipes the oil out of your palm and warms it in his rough hands. he caresses your shoulders, briefly massaging them before rubbing the oil into your back. his fingertips dip below the towel’s edge, earning a sigh from you.

you tilt your head back to look at your lover. he grins down at you and gently kisses you while wrapping his arms around yours and pulling you back into his firm body.

craving his sweetness, you turn around in his hold, cupping his cheeks and deepening the kiss. tongues swirl and ignite a buried fire in the pits of your stomachs.

kei’s hands roam your body as he sucks on your lower lip. such teasing touches have your towel slipping and eventually pooling on the bathroom floor. he grips your hips, squeezing them as he groans into your mouth.

you two separate for a brief moment, catching your breath and each other’s eyes. he gazes at you lustfully; he’s desperate to mould your body to his all night long, to make you his in the most intimate of ways.

your fingers trail up his exposed biceps before you wrap your arms around his neck. you draw him down to you, smirking as you whisper in his ear, “i know you want me, baby.”

he chuckles gruffly against your skin, the sound doing unholy things to you. his citrusy scent is intoxicating up this close. you breathe in deeply, his thick musk filling your lungs.

he rasps, “yea, i do. i want you so bad, dove.” you hum before nipping at his ear lobe. the small gesture sends a thrill of pleasure shuddering throughout his body.

kei should know this by now, but nothing comes for free. he’s seen the cruelty of this world, and even though you’re his escape from it all, he shouldn’t be as wide-eyed and breathless from your next words.

“oh yea? show me,” you whisper seductively. it’s like everything was dark before you spoke. and now that you have, the lights have been switched on. your words are like the gospel, true and calling him to action. and yet, they’re so impure. kei has been enlightened.

he steps back from you, the cool air wafting over your bare skin. your nipples harden as you bite your lip, looking at him nervously. your lover shakes his head, saying lowly, “meet me in the living room once you’re done.” you hum as you nod, rather intrigued by kei’s sudden change in mood.

when you’ve finally finished your post-shower routine, you head to the living room. your jaw slackens, and your brows raise as you enter, seeing the coffee table moved and couches pushed back to create space in the centre. you blink dumbly as he comes over to you.

he wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you to one of the sofas, saying cockily, “take a seat, chickpea.” you follow his instruction, making yourself comfortable on the sofa while your boyfriend steps back. he catches your eyes, the look in his awfully serious.

you ask confused, “kei, what’s going on?” he shakes his head.

clearing his throat, he begins to sing. you blink at him dumbly as you register his sweet praises that are surprisingly on-key. he spreads his arms wide before rolling his wrists and body in time with his words. you grab the nearest cushion and hold it tight as your mouth hangs open.

your eyes are trained on his quick, rhythmic movements. he spins around and jumps, his voice never faltering. you shriek playfully as he locks eyes with you. his wings spread out to his sides, his beautiful feathers on full display. you can feel your face heating up, cooking beneath the heat of this moment.

you can’t stop staring at him, drinking in how good he is at interpretive dance. you shriek again as he slaps his thighs in a wide stance. your laugh is stuttered as you raise the cushion up, blocking your view of him.

his singing stops and in a moment, the cushion is snatched from your hands and hurled across the room.

he pants, “’m not done, dove. watch me.”

you stutter in disbelief, “n-not done?” he hums as he steps back, ready to continue his performance.

shaking your head, you exclaim, “kei, kei, it’s okay! you don’t have to keep going.”

he pouts, “don’t you like my dance? or my song?” you’re rendered speechless as you stare at him. he tilts his head toward you expectantly, but you can’t speak. you’re far too stunned by his musical display to say anything. the air shifts as he chuckles softly and steps toward you. he plops down on top of you, squishing you against the sofa.

he mutters into the crook of your neck, “did i show you have much i want you?” you groan from his weight as you thread your fingers through his hair.

you kiss his damp forehead, saying amusedly, “oh yea. i, uh, i liked that song you sang. what’s it called? ‘the bird in me’?” he bites your shoulder lightly, but the sudden sensation makes you gasp.

your hands are already shoving at his chest as he grunts sarcastically, “yea, it’s called ‘the bird in me’. i wrote it just for you, chickpea.” he raises his head and pulls off you a little, giving you a bit of breathing room. your chest rises high, grazing his as you take in the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“now, let me have my reward.”

if he wasn't a hero

denki, baku, tenya, shoto

wc: 530

kaminari denki

he would be a vet!!!! i feel like he and yoosung from mystic messenger are very on par

i think he would love taking care of the animals and talking to them about brainrot content and tiktok trends

would probably get attached to the animals up for adoption and be upset when they’re bought

found it really hard to do euthanasia at first ⟶ he’s learnt to trust himself and his decision to relieve the suffering of the animal this way

sometimes though, i think it would really get to him, and he’d be a shell of himself until you remind him he’s okay

you’d pull him into your arms and cuddle on the couch, suffocating him with your affection until he’s whining and pleading with you to let him shower (he smells like dog all the time)

bakugou katsuki

mechanic, ice hockey player, chef, all great professions for our fav man

i think he’d be such a hot mechanic, covered in soot or whatever and fixing up cars

he’d show you how to change a tyre, change your engine oil, the best car wash products, etc

if he was a hockey player, you’d go to every single one of his games

he’d make sure you were all layered up before stepping foot into the ice rink

and when his team wins, he’ll skate over to you and give you lots of kisses, showing everyone who his girl is (the fangirls are super envious of you)

chef katsuki… need i say more? makes you the most gourmet yummy food, packs you gorgeous bentos with the little squid sausages and star-shaped fruit

iida tenya

robotic engineer

i imagine him sitting at his desk late at night, a single lamp illuminating his technical drawings and endless pages of equations

his hair is dishevelled and he pushes up his glasses every so often

you wake up in the early hours of the morning to him pulling back the covers and climbing into bed with you

you like watching him work ⟶ you’ll sit on the couch, watching him out of the corner of your eye as you scroll through your phone

he’ll be sitting on the floor, building a robot on your coffee table

of course, he’ll test them all at home, leading to quite a few accidents and minor explosions

todoroki shoto

hear me out… news reporter (its giving kole, ya know who i’m talking about???? shibuya street interviews)

he’s a gossiper at heart change my mind

i think he would make the best documentaries by representing both sides nonchalantly

he wouldn’t be first on the scene, but he’d get the most valuable information and outshine any other news broadcast on the issue

he’s very pretty, which makes him quite popular on tv

you try to tug him back to bed whenever he gets those late night/early morning phone calls for work ⟶ he’ll give you a kiss on the forehead, murmuring for you to go back to sleep while he stumbles in the dark to put on his suit

you’ve never missed one of his broadcasts ⟶ if you miss it on tv, then you’ll watch it online before he gets home so you can compliment him

why do y'all assume that virgins are innocent? as a fellow virgin... i know stuff. i clearly don't have experience with others but i know how it works. and like i'm pretty sure that virgins have done some wack sexual things by themselves cause they haven't done those things with anyone else... or is that just me?

i'm tired of all these fics with a virgin reader where the male lead is like "this is your clit and if i do this, then it feels good". yes, sir, i'm aware of what the CLITORIS is, where it is, and what it does. i'm not a child. you do know that i'm not a child, right?

idk that's what it's giving idk.

i need to write a fic now about "impure" virgin reader if you will x bakugou or some hottie. i hate the concept of purity i really do. and i hate this idea of virginity being "taken", specifically through penetrative sex.

you're not "taking" anything from me because i'm not an object. you can't have my virginity it's not yours.

virginity, in my opinion, is about a lack of sexual experience. it's going to look different for everyone. of course, once you've had sexual experiences then you're no longer a virgin and that's fine. like you don't need to be a virgin to be worthy of love from a man. and if a man cares about how many men you've slept with then he's not a man he's a piece of shit.

like if you're not a heterosexual, your first sexual experiences might not look like penetrative sex and that's okay. why is it that virgin sex fics focus so much on the act of penetration as the key divider between being a virgin and not? it's not that straightforward. and it doesn't matter that much, in my opinion (i'm clearly not religious).

rut suppressants pt.1

alpha!todoroki shoto x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — smut, p in v, masturbation, voyeurism, knotting, oral sex, swearing, 5.2k words

pt.2

You were typing away at your computer, responding to some dry work emails about tomorrow’s presentation. You had been working in a small team to design a new marketing strategy for your company’s latest hero gadgets. And of course, you had been pulling the weight of the team, you little hard worker. Or maybe your HR team didn’t hire the right candidates, you decide. It was easy enough though. The hard part was just getting your colleagues to look like they knew what they were doing by 10am tomorrow.

After responding to another email of “What does this mean?”, you heard the front door click open, grocery bags scraping against it. Ah, your mate is home. Finally, you smile.

You set your desktop to sleep before leaving the study. As you walk down the hallway, half-white half-red hair comes into view. He’s got his back to you. Black shirt clinging to his sweaty muscles. Must of been to the gym too, you thought. You rest your shoulder against the fridge, arms crossed underneath your chest, taking in the sight of you husband. He’s going through the bags, rummaging through them restlessly, clearly on the hunt for something.

“Need some help?” You smirk.

He turns around, blue-grey eyes wide. His expression visibly eases, slightly opened mouth forming a closed smile. “No, I’m fine. How was work?” He returns to his scavenger hunt in the bag right at his feet.

“Fine. I’ve got it under control for tomorrow’s meeting.” You push off of the fridge and come up behind him, hand on the edge of the island bench. You look over his shoulder, curious about what he could possibly be looking for. Shoto always gave you a kiss first thing whenever he came home, regardless of what had happened during patrol or of what you were doing. For him to neglect you like this was rather odd.

“You didn’t do all the work again, did you?” His voice had an edge to it… It made you bite your lip ever-so-slightly.

“You know how it is—”

“Well, it shouldn’t be,” he almost growled. “You should all be doing it, not just you.” He cussed under his breath.

Okay, this was getting weird. Agitated over you working hard? I mean yea but, he usually reins it it, accepts that this job is just that for you, a job. One that you’ve talked to him about leaving. And swearing? Not Shoto. Only when y’all are… you know.

“Shoto, babe, what’s up?” You say. You're standing directly behind him, you run your hand through his locks. He hums.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine," you whine.

You watch as he starts going through the fourth bag, pulling out a small box with the label “Rut suppressants. Take as needed. Maximum dosage: five per day."

This little fucker. You snatch it out of his hands immediately, sprinting from the scene into the back of your apartment.

“[Y/n]! [Y/n] stop!” You can hear him coming after you, the sound of his feet hitting the floorboards. “Give that to me now!”

You’re running frantically, heart pounding in your chest, hands getting sweaty around the evil cardboard box. You dash into your shared bedroom, slamming the door shut. Fuck! Where should I hide it?

You look around, [e/c] eyes settling on the dresser. You race over to it, emptying the contents of the box into the first draw, beneath your bras and panties.

“[Y/n]!”

Shit, he’s close to the door. You slam the drawer shut and run-stumble into the ensuite. Leaning against the door, you lock it. Okay okay, think! Think! The door knob rattles.

“[Y/n]! Open this door right now or I swear—” The silver handle is shaking now.

The toilet! You open the lid and crush the box in your hands; it makes those crinkling noises before you toss it into the trash bin and flush the toilet. At that moment, the door bursts open.

Shoto’s chest is heaving. His eyes are unfocused, frenzied. He’s panting… with anger you decide as there’s no way that little sprint could of worked up the number 3 pro hero that much. He stalks towards you, grabbing your wrists and leaning down to meet your eyes.

“What did you do with it?” His tone shocks you. His voice is so low now… and hoarse. It throws you off. “With-with what?” You breath out. You’re pretty puffed. “Don’t play dumb. You didn’t actually flush ‘em down the toilet, did you?” His face is now inches from yours.

You remain defiant, eyes staring back into his. The heat radiating from his left tickles your skin. “Um… well yea, yea I did. They’re um, yea, they’re down the toilet.” He laughs. More like barks. His breath hits your face. All you can smell is his sweat interlaced with his fresh scent.

“You’re so bad at lying, you know that?” He smirks, straightening back up. His muscles pull taut as he runs pale fingers through that snowy, silky hair. You watch as he looks around the bathroom.

“Where’d you really put ‘em?” He looks back down at you, scrutinising you beneath his gaze. Your ragged breathing now hitches.

“I don’t—”

“Don’t deny it!” He shouts. You shrink back instinctively.

You’ve never seen him like this before. He’s always so controlled. Even when you’re in heat, he’s always got it together. Always able to draw back or change the pace when you need him to. That’s why you took the pills off him in the first place.

You’ve been getting suspicious for months now since the two of you got married that he’s been on rut suppressants. It just didn’t add up. After your first heat together, you had actually asked him about his ruts so you knew when you had to return the favour.

“I don’t really rut, babe.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck, heterochromatic eyes averting from yours.

You laughed in response. “You don’t rut?” Your eyebrows raised. “Should I be concerned or…”

“No,” he said shyly, “it’s not like that.”

You waited for him to continue, watching as his eyes fluttered from object to object.

“I don’t get very intense ruts.”

Your brow was still quirked. “You don’t get ‘very intense ruts’? Like, you don’t get super aggressive and horny when you rut.”

His muscles relaxed upon hearing that. He looked back at you now. “Yea, it’s a minor annoyance. Nothing to worry about.”

You relaxed too, seeing that he was more comfortable now. “Trust me.” He took your hands in his larger ones. The temperature difference of both something you weren’t used to yet. “You don’t ever have to worry about control with me.” He gave you a sweet reassuring smile.

“Are you sure? I mean—”

“Trust me.” He squeezed your hands and leaned over, planting a small kiss on your lips. You grinned as he pulled back, trusting his word, however strange it seemed.

Had he lied to you? When you had announced to your friends that you and Shoto were (finally) getting married, they had warned you about that post-wedding baby fever. The endless marathon sex you two would be having once your cycles synced up. You had been waiting your entire relationship for that to happen and it hadn’t. So, once you two tied the knot wink, you had been hoping that the talk of pups would come up, but it just hadn’t. That’s when you had begun to think something was off. Even if he didn’t have “intense ruts”, he would still be feeling the urge to breed you, wouldn’t he? Or maybe he just didn’t—

“Where did you put my suppressants?” He stared you down, thin brows furrowed. “Babe…” His hands are trembling at his sides. Pupils dilated so only the rims of his irises are visible. It strikes fear and-and something else into you. Attraction? Excitement? Maybe you should try something else. Something else that’s gonna get you the result you want.

“Make me.”

At this, he frowns even more. “Make you what?”

“Make me tell you.” You take a step forward, feigning confidence, coming close to him again and tilting your head to the side, challenging him.

He scoffs. Those beautiful eyes, like solar eclipses, flickering away from you for a moment. “Make you…” He says quietly. He stares at you even more intensely now as he’s thinks it over.

It’s time to get cocky. “Yea, make me.” You stretch up towards him, arms wrapping around his neck. “I want you,” you move to whisper in his ear, your lips brushing his earlobe. “My sexy Alpha,” you run both of your hands through his hair now. He groans right back into your neck, large hands palming your lower back. “To make me submit to you.”

In an instant, you're over his shoulder, his palm smacking your right cheek. He’s carrying you out of the ensuite. You’ve done it now hehe.

As he crosses the threshold, you notice the door knob was coated in ice, hanging there, limp. Looks like you’ve gotta add fixing that to your to-do list tomorrow. He throws you like a stuffed toy onto your plush bed. His shirt’s already coming off, rippling contours all for your pleasure. Yea, make that a ‘to-do next week’.

Large hands already besides your head. Lean arms, meaty thighs, delicious toned frame caging you in. You’re forced to stare into those mismatched eyes. Not like you’d want to do anything else anyways.

Your breaths intermingle, just like your scents. He just stares at you, licking his soft, full lips. Afternoon light from the adjacent windows makes your figures glow. You love the way it streaks through his hair, and he loves the way it catches on your pretty pink lips. He thumbs your lower lip, pulling it down to reveal your teeth. You lower your chin, taking his thumb into your mouth. You circle your tongue over the top of his thumb before tasting the pad of it. It’s cold, like a popsicle you suck on in summer. You can think of another ‘popsicle’ you’d rather be sucking on right now.

“I… I-I don’t…” His brows are knitted together once more. Pupils wavering between dilated and contracted, showing off those blue and grey hues you love so much. You stop what you’re doing with your tongue, opting to place both of your hands on his cheeks. His thumb leaves your mouth but rests on your chin.

“I don’t know if… if this s-safe.” You can’t stop yourself from giggling a little. What a cutie.

“Pookie, of course this is safe. I was made for you. You know that, right?” You smirk. You’re a feelin’ like a cocky little shit today btw if you didn’t get that. This man’s shyness inflating your ego.

“Of course I do but…” He averts his gaze, looking at your ear instead.

“But?” You continue. However, he doesn’t respond. He just moves his hand from your chin and tucks a strand of [h/c] hair behind your ear, which has suddenly become the most interesting thing in the room.

“You don’t wanna hurt me? You do wanna hurt me but don’t wanna admit it?” You tease.

“No! No, of course I don’t want to hurt you.” His eyes shift back to yours.

“Shoto.” You squeeze his cheeks gently. “I’m your omega. If you hurt me then you can just make it better.” You bring his face closer to yours. “You can make it better, can’t you?” You whisper.

He gulps, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down with the motion. “Y-yea,” he replies, voice low, “I can.” That last part coming out with more confidence.

“Good, then don’t make me dom you, Alpha. That’s kinda embarrassing for you.” You giggle whilst leaning up to him and finally, kiss him.

You both moan into it, feeling the relief washing through you two. But quickly, it’s not enough. It’s far from enough. He growls into your lips, changing his tilt. You follow his lead. You like that. His tongue grazes your bottom lip and you part immediately for him. The tangle that ensues is soul-gripping, bone-shaking, mind-blanking, breath-taking…

Your fingers are gripping his locks. His fingers are gripping the hem of your thin white tank top. Saliva, don’t know don’t care whose, if dripping from the corners of your mouth. His exhale is your inhale and vice versa. He catches your lower lip between his teeth. His sharp canines sending tingles throughout your entire being. There’s nothing that gets you slicked up like a lip bite from your Alpha.

He pulls away, you two panting. Not that the reprieve is sufficient or long-lived. Soon his lips are sucking and nipping your earlobe and that sensitive spot beneath your ear. You whimper out his name. “Shoto”, “Alpha”, “Daddy”, maybe “Babe” or “Honey”… yea, those, they’ll be the only words you know for the next week.

He nips at your mating mark, the beautiful white scar just above your left collarbone. He continues biting it, almost re-piercing the scar. You can’t help the moan-mumbles that tumble out of your mouth. Already, your wetness is soaking your blue lace panties and beginning to slide down your inner thighs.

“Fuck,” Shoto breathes out into your other ear. You shudder at the word, one hand sliding down to his shoulder.

He continues at it, licking and sucking and kissing and biting at your neck. Soon, his fingers are tearing through your top. You mewl at the sensation of him ripping the torn, flimsy fabric off your body. His hands reach for your bare breasts, cupping them completely. Those long fingers begin pinching at the sensitive flesh. Your body responds instinctively, moaning, small hands grasping his wrists, breaths catching in your chest and throat.

He fingers your nipples before bringing his mouth down to you, lips ghosting the hard peaks between his fingertips. He takes one into his mouth, eliciting a delicious whimper from you. His warm tongue circles your nipple as you did to his thumb, but just so much better.

You’ve barely gotten started and yet, you know never get enough of this. No matter how many times he’s done and will do this to you, and so much more, you’ll never be forever satiated. You just can’t be.

He moves to the other, keeping your now wet left breast covered by his cool palm. Fuck, that feels good. More moans spill from your mouth as he continues his ministrations. That slick is at your knees, probably. You can’t really tell cause it just feels like a wet, sticky mess down there at this point.

“Shoto,” you whine. He groans in response. “Hurryyyyy up,” you drag out that ‘y’ as you mewl. You shudder as he chuckles against your tender skin. Tender from his bites and sucking, of course.

“You want me to go faster?” He pulls away from your breast, face coming back close to yours. You whine and nod your affirmation.

“But if I go faster,” he strokes your cheek softly with the back of his index finger, “you’ll miss out on all the fun.” His finger trails down to your chin, gripping it tightly but playfully with his other fingers.

Damn, you’re getting wetter by the second. He’s doesn’t usually tease you during your intimacy. Prefers that slow, soul-binding kinda love-making.

He just smirks at you before moving back to his painstakingly slow kisses and sucks on your breast. He only moves down to your ribs once he’s satisfied and you’ve probably soaked the bed sheets with how much he’s turning you on. It’s driving you insane. No. He drives you insane.

Shoto’s hands wrap around your ribs, feeling their rise and fall and their ridges. “Beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing each rung. He keeps those eyes on you. All cocky. He knows what he’s doing to you and he likes how pathetic it makes you for him. And you can’t help but like it too.

After thoroughly kissing and touching every part of your torso, your arms, your everything really, he’s finally fingering your low waistband. You sigh relief and begin wriggling, trying to get those pants off as fast as possible, but your Alpha is still having none of it.

“Be patient,” he growls as he squeezes your clothed inner thigh, your flesh perking up between his fingers.

“But Alpha—”

“I said,” he stares you down, this dark look in his eyes, “be patient.”

You whine, “Yes Alpha.”

Hearing your compliance, he loosens his grip on your thigh and begins kissing your hip bones and skin just above the band. Fuck, he’s really killing you this time. I thought alphas were all, “Let’s bang. Now. Hard.” when they’re rutting but, I guess not. Maybe, Shoto didn’t completely lie to you by saying that his ruts were different to other alphas. Or maybe, he just wants to tease you for once.

You’re brought back to reality when you gasp reflexively to him biting into your inner thigh through your wet pants. Wet as in soaked and clinging to your hot skin.

“You’re not focusing on me.” Shoto’s voice is low, raspy. Fuck, you love it when he talks like that. Especially just after he’s woken up and you two have some fun together before getting up.

“And you’re not even focusing on me right now.” He bites even harder into your thigh, breaking through the fabric and pulling little red dots to the surface of your now swollen, marked flesh.

“I,” you breath out. “I thought you wanted me to be patient.”

“I want you to do both. Can you manage that? Or is that too much for my little girl?” He’s got a shit-eating grin across face. Since when was your husband such a tease, and such a good fucking one at that? It’s the years of pills, you decide.

“N-no, I can’t manage. Help me m-manage.” You imagine that you must look like some blubbering, whimpering mess right now, and you’re not even naked yet. And he’s not even naked yet.

“Okay,” his grin widens.

Licking those glorious lips, those lips that you want on yours and not the ones on your face if you know what I mean, he pulls away from your thighs. He gets up from the bed, taking off his grey sweatpants and briefs. And fuck, you’re not ready for what meets you. For real. Swollen, hard, precum dripping down the shaft.

He smirks at you as he grabs his cock with his hand, moaning on impact. His other hand comes up to his face, finger pointing to the side of his mouth. At this point, your sitting up, thighs to calves, legs spread wide, dragging your wide eyes up and down his body.

“You’re drooling.”

I would say that you blushed at hearing this, but you’re already red as fuck in the face with how hot he’s been making you. You’re embarrassed and laugh it off, hand coming to wipe that spit from the side of your mouth. Yea, that was definitely yours and not his from earlier. That had already dried.

“W-well, how can I not when,” you take a deep breath in and look back up at him, “when my husband looks this good.”

“Have I got your attention now?” That rasp. That will be the end of you. Or the end of these bed sheets, whichever comes first. You nod feverishly. “Good girl.”

Ah fuck. He’s praising you. Fuck. That’s it. If that dick isn’t in you within the next three minutes, who knows what will happen next. You start shuffling over toward him when he stops you.

“No. You stay there. I want you to watch.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles, amused by your reaction as you realise what’s going on. Is this how this twisted fucker wants you to help you 'be patient' and 'focus'? By not letting you touch him? And by not touching you?

“I can’t. No. Babe. No please.” You’re shaking your head vigorously, already rising from the bed when his hands find your shoulders and push you back to sit down on the edge.

“Watch.” His voice is commanding, absolute.

You’re forced to obey your alpha and sit there helplessly as he pumps his veiny cock with those veiny hands. The precum now all over his dick with even more leaking from the tip. His dick that should be in you right now. His eyes are trained on you, observing every stuttered breath you take in, every time you bite the side of your lip, how focused you are on how he’s pleasuring himself. That feels even better than his hands ever could. Fucking hell.

“Can I—” You start.

“No. Just watch."

“Not you but my—”

“No. Watch.” His tone is stern. His voice strained.

Fuck. If your hands were bound then this would be so much easier, but no, you’re forced to hold back from touching yourself by your alpha’s command and your own self-discipline. You doubt that you’re even allowed to rock your hips right now.

You watch as his movements get faster and now he’s panting. His eyes half-lidded and tongue darting out across his lower lip every so often. You can see the sweat beading on his chest. You start whining, wanting to be the one touching him like that. What you wouldn’t give to just… just have him right now.

“Please,” you begin. Which becomes a slew of please daddy, please, please let me touch you, please, I’m sorry that I took your suppressants, I’m sorry okay, I’m sorry Alpha, I’m sorry that I wasn’t being patient or f-focusing on you, please Alpha, please let me touch you, please, please, please, please… You don’t stop. You can’t stop. All you can do is sit there, slick drenching the sheets below you even though you’re lower half is still clothed, and plead for your alpha to fuck you.

His pale hips jerk forward and you can tell he’s really close. Would he even let you swallow it? But he stops. He stops and comes over to you, collapsing onto you, arms around your shoulders and neck.

“Shoto,” you squeak, but it’s muffled by his weight falling onto you. He huffs into your ear and you just rub his back.

“Tired already,” you jest, but he’s not in the mood to play with you anymore.

“Enough. I can’t cuddle my wife?” He mumbles grumpily into your shoulder before taking the flesh between his teeth.

You hum, “You can always cuddle your wife, but I’d like it more if you fucked me.” He chuckles low, right below your ear. You feel it vibrating through his throat and chest.

“Yea, I bet you would.”

He holds you for a little longer before pulling back, peeling his sweaty body off yours.

“Alright, I’ll give you your reward,” he smiles lazily, even showing off one side of his pearly whites.

You squeal with delight, “Finally!”

“Oi, settle,” he says as positions you so that he’s between your legs, spread wide, slowly pulling both pants and panties off you. Oi?

“So, you’ve been on patrol with Dynami—”

“Don’t mention him,” Shoto growls. He’s been doin’ a lotta that today and you like it. A lot. “Or anyone else right now. It’s just you and me.” You nod submissively. You really should stop riling him up sometimes. But you can’t help it. You’re a cheeky little shit after all.

The relief that engulfs you once those dreadful clothes are off brings out a sigh of pleasure from you. He doesn’t make you wait any longer. He’s already at the source of your heat, lapping up your slick like it’s the elixir of life. To him, it is. You whimper and mewl as his tongue makes its’ way between your folds. It feels so warm and wet, perfect against your swollen lips. You relish in the feeling of what he’s doing to you.

Shoto eats you out like he’s been starved. Greedily, hungrily, in a frenzy. Without a break for air, he keeps going. That tongue, those long digits curling inside of you, his lips, all making you shake and mew. The whimpers and words leaving your mouth are unholy and impure, some real nasty shit.

Only he can get you like this. Only he can have you saying shit like, “Fuck me however you want, daddy.” Or, “Knot in me, alpha! Breed your little omega!”

Once he’s had his fill, he moves away from your core, grabbing your hips and flipping you over, onto your stomach. His fingers are back at your folds, playing with your clit and teasing your entrance, drawing more filthy moans from you. You feel him move on top of you, straddling you. He withdraws his fingers, replacing them with what you’ve been craving for this entire time.

You moan loudly as he fills you up, completely, inch-by-inch. He groans as you draw him in, tight walls clenching around his girth. He stays still for a few moments, allowing you to get comfortable, before he sets a brutal pace. You hands are by your shoulders, gripping the sheets as he fucks you.

Your body is shaking, contorting to his every rough thrust in and out. It’s got your mind absolutely filled with how only your mate can do this to you. You can’t even form a sentence. You mewl, over and over, to the sound of your skin slapping harshly together. Your mingled groans and moans, all that dirty shit dripping from your mouths fill the room. It’s humid. Sweat coating your bodies. Your hair is stuck to your forehead.

Your favourite part — besides from how tight he’s gripping your hips, likely (and hopefully) leaving bruises on your soft skin — is how deep he gets. His tip reaches that perfect spot, making your toes curl and knees bend, before he draws back out, and he does it again and again.

“Sh-sho-shot-to." He grunts out in response. “Sho-sho-I—” Fuck, you can’t even get the sentence out. That’s how brain fucked, how body fucked, this man’s got you.

“What?” He growls. He’s breathing hard, you can hear it, and it makes you drip even more and he can feel it.

“Use your words, baby. What is it?” He groans.

The filthy sounds of him pounding you fills your ears. The squelching of your juices around his length. You can’t even remember what you were trying to say. Oh! That’s right!

“I-I Shoto-Sho fuck I’m-I-I’m gonna,” your voice is quiet and breathy, but he still hears you clearly.

He can feel your thighs beginning to shake, the way your pussy tightens and then releases, and he knows what you mean. “I know,” he grunts again. You continue to moan, feeling your climax coming in hard n’ fast. You gotta know if—

“Just hold on for me, alright. Just-just hold on.” You whimper in response. Not cum yet? You don’t know if you can do that.

“I’ll try—”

He cuts you off, saying, “You will wait for me.”

Your moans and mewls get louder as you get closer, as does his growls and grunts. Even if you can’t wait for him , it doesn’t really matter, you still benefit.

He picks up the pace. You never even realised he had this kinda stamina. But, you should of known. He is THE pro hero ‘Shoto’.

It feels impossibly more pleasurable. It’s like he’s surrounding you. Every thrust is godsent. You couldn’t escape the pleasure of this moment, even if you tried. Your orgasm is building and building, threatening to crash down on you any second now.

“Shoto!” You cry out. You’ve got tears in your eyes. Your shaking, trembling, convulsing as you climax. You squeeze around him hard, sending him over the edge with you. You’re sobbing and screaming at this point, as you feel his knot swell and plunge into you. Thick, white, hot ropes spilling into you. Filling you completely with his seed. Fuck.

You ride out the high together, him rocking into you and you rocking as much as you can manage back into him. Breathing out, he leans down, pulling you back and laying you two on your sides. You groan at the movement, still experiencing those last minute tremors of your orgasm. His legs intertwine with yours, arms wrapping around you. He strokes your head, drawing you close into him as you both calm down. You sniffle and he takes this opportunity wipe the tears from your eyes.

You giggle, “Thanks, honey.” The words dampened by your sudden emotional outburst.

“Anything for you, love," he responds as he kisses the side of your forehead and moves to grab the blankets, pulling them over you two, up to your chin. You snuggle back into him, hands grasping his forearms, a mindless smile spreading across your face.

You say, “You’re not done with me yet, are you?”

He remains silent for a few seconds, before groaning into your hair. It still smells like fresh cut strawberries in the midst of all the scents filling the room.

“Only if you tell me where you hid my suppressants.”

“Than I’m never telling you!” You squeal. There ain’t no way you’re gonna give up this side of your alpha just yet.

“Hey, that’s not what you should be saying,” hey says. His voice is low, bordering on a growl.

“Sorry for not following your script," you say. And now you’re the one wearing a shit-eating grin.

“You know,” he shifts, now leaning over you and narrowing his doe eyes at you, “if you insist on acting up, then maybe I will just have to fuck you through this rut of mine.”

“I hope you do,” you say with a smirk even wider.

“’Course you do,” he grumbles, laying back down again, nose buried in your hair.

You two lay in silence until his knot goes down, and he can finally pull out. He turn you back onto your stomach and pulls the blankets back, drawing out slowly, making you moan. His cum gushes out, further eliciting moans from you.

You can feel it dripping down your the back of your thigh. Shoto watches, enjoying the sight. Though, before he’s realise it, he’s got his fingers inside of you, finger-fucking that cum back into you. You can’t help but start whimpering and moaning even louder as you feel him fingering you.

“Shoto…”

He draws his fingers back out, letting the cum drip out again. He’s tempted to slide them back into you so that no more escapes, but he refrains from doing so, knowing that you two need to talk a bit more about kids than just “Do you want kids? Yea, I want kids. Do you? Yea, sounds good.”

He clears his throat before saying, “I hope you’re ready, baby.” He wraps his hand around your waist and turns you over, onto your back. Your eyes find each other. The sun’s setting, illuminating how wet and dewy and bruised your soft flesh is.

You breathe out, smiling happily, “I’m ready.”