For The Prompts (I’m Probably Super Late I’m Sorry OTL) “it’s Not My Fault, It’s 4am And You’re

For every kiss you give me, I'll give you three

Drew my mains as a small gift to myself cause school's starting again 🙏

in the cauldron boil and bake

prompt: pretty little witch who lives in a cottage in the forest who sometimes eats wayward travellers but Ghost has some kind of magic repulsion aura that doesn’t allow her to use her powers on him. (ON AO3) tags: very nsfw, implied/lightly described violence, dubcon/noncon, noncon spanking, implied cannibalism (just in general, not with the pairing lol); 5.5k

-

He moves at a pace too slow for you to make out with the naked eye, but you feel it creeping through you.

The vision of him appears in a dream first, a premonition. A hulking figure trekking through the woods. You snuggle deeper under the covers and scrunch up your nose in your sleep. In the morning, you go outside to harvest the holly leaves and buttercup and return home dreaming of tender, slow cooked meat. It’s been awhile since you last had a proper meal. When you hang up the laundry to dry, you chew on peppermint cuttings and try not to salivate. 

In the centuries you’ve lived in these woods, travellers have come and gone. You don’t eat every single one that happens to pass by—that would be a surefire way to get your forest branded as bedevilled and a longer route established circumnavigating your grove. You might be hungry, but you’re prudent, careful. Not like some other witches these days, greedy for any morsel that happens to pass in front of them. 

No; you take care of your woods. You have to, if you plan on remaining here for the centuries to come. If a few travellers happen to disappear here and there, that’s simply life. Not everyone can make treacherous journeys. 

You always have a sense of when a traveller is nearby. It’s as though your being is embedded within the forest itself, privy to those who dwell within it. You feel him along the outer regions of the forest, a lone traveller hauling not more than himself and a rucksack filled with the bare essentials. He appears to you in flashes in your dreams, not the full image of him but piecemeal, a shadow obscuring his full face from you. You see only tendons and meat on his bones, a rough hewn strength to his limbs, touch muscle and fat wrapped around his middle.

It makes you giddy to think of him circling ever closer to your spider’s web at the centre of the forest. After him, you won’t be hungry for years. 

Your restless leg acts up the day you know that he’s close enough to approach. All morning, you sit at the little table in your kitchen and rip lavender buds from the stems, black shoes tap-tapping away at the floor. The broom sweeps by itself in the corner, sweeping the dust into a neat pile. When you snap your fingers, it’s brusque, impatient. The broom halts in midair and then clatters against the floorboards. The chair scrapes against the floor as you rise to your feet. 

“Come, come, Asphodel,” you whisper to the black cat curled up on the windowsill, which barely lifts her head enough to blink at you. “No more dallying. Mommy’s hungry.”

In a show of great defiance and disrespect, Asphodel merely meows at you and lays her head back down. Insipid little familiar. 

You go off on your own then, keen to see the travellers with your own eyes. Jowls growing tighter. Robe cinched tight around you and hair pinned back by a thin strand of velvet. The days have just begun to shorten, just begun to exhale frost and rot. The leaves however, by agreement, do not crunch under your feet and give you away. You are a phantom amidst the trees as you flank the lone traveller, following the breadth of him as he traverses past your homestead. 

It’s fortunate that you are not beholden to physics because he is formidable. Broad as a man might be, no less sizable than in your dreams, but much more menacing in the flesh. He too moves quietly in the brush, with a care and precision that you have not seen many humans employ. 

He conceals the lower half of his face with a black piece of fabric, which you had mistaken for shadows. Not so. It is a deliberate concealment, meant to unnerve. Without magic, you might not have approached. 

His size alone isn’t enough to frighten you though. You are two hundred years old and you have eaten men twice his size when you were naught but a babe. 

You step out into the clearing just a few paces from him, halting the man in his tracks. 

“Hello,” you call out tentatively, raising a hand to shield your eyes. “C-can you help me? I think I’ve lost my way.”

At this point in your career, it takes a bit to hide the smile that threatens to break. You are like the spider posing as a fly. The show is half the fun though. 

The man doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even seem shocked at your presence, arms loose by his sides. It makes your stomach clench, the script flipped a bit. It should be you, loose and limber, and the wayward traveller tense and nonplussed, then eager to help the lost girl. You wait a moment longer for him to respond, but he remains silent, blue eyes unblinking. 

“Can you help me?” you repeat, taking a step closer. The tendrils of your magic slither out of you, snaking across the forest floor towards him. “I’m lost. Can you help me find my way out?” 

Your magic finds his boots in the dirt like mycelium threads, the pulse of him rich and earthen. It makes the saliva pool in your mouth, hunger gnawing at your guts. He will taste so good. Meaty and huge, enough to last you the winter. You take another step closer despite his continued silence, a tad too eager. You only need a moment though, long enough for your magic to take root, to render him febrile and inert. When he collapses to the ground, you will float his body back and rend him limb from limb by your hearth. 

Another step brings you closer to him when your magic suddenly recoils, unwinds from him. You frown. You try sending it back, but your magic shrinks away, an atavistic fear blooming up in you. It does not want near this man. 

A cold sweat breaks out on your neck. The hairs on your neck and arms stand on end. 

The masked man staring back at you tilts his head, the skin under his eyes crinkling with a smile that you cannot see. Suddenly eldritch, blood-curdling. 

“Now, what are you?” he asks with a rumbling voice, rough from disuse, and takes a step towards you.

You trip over your feet scrambling back. Branches from a nearby tree scoop towards you, catching you before you tumble down into the soft dirt. He advances quickly on you, big hand finding now the hatchet strapped to his side and pulling it out, the thing dwarfed in his massive paw. 

“Stay back—stay back—” you hiss, the branches listening to your fear and dragging you away from the man. “Leave—I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?” he asks, taunting. Just a twinge of it, as if he can’t help that he has a predilection to mock.

He catches up to you fast enough, the strides of his long legs enough to eat up the distance. When you whip the branches towards him, they stop mere inches from him, giving him ample time to bat them away. The ones that get close enough meet his hatchet, a single cleave enough to sever them from the tree. You don’t feel the tree’s pain, but where his blade meets your magic—a thin coating along the branches, like extended, ghost limbs of your own—it stings. 

“Stay back!” you shriek, heart pumping away ferociously. Your voice comes out like a caterwaul. He’s too close now though, towering over you, the bitter smell of old sweat and musk. Up close, he does not smell like anything you know. He smells sun bleached, the rust of old blood like the blades in your shed after a long season’s hunt. 

“What sort of girl—” he starts, hand fisting in your hair and wrenching your head back, “—ambushes strange men in forests? Do you have a death wish?”

To have him touch you is singularly terrifying. You haven’t been touched in a hundred years, certainly not by a human. His touch sends you skittering back, but he has you trapped in place. Your shoes dig into the dirt when you try to push yourself away, hands pressed against his chest much to your distress. 

“Men can’t kill me,” you hiss, fingers clawing at the hand holding you in place, scratching at him with the little nails that you never bothered to grow out. 

You can’t see the whole of his face, but his expression is undoubtedly unimpressed. “I could kill you easily, girl.”

“I’m not a girl—I’m a witch.”

“A witch is a girl.”

“I eat girls,” you snap, so angry now that spittle drips from your mouth. You shrink back when he wipes it away with a gloved hand. “I eat men like you too. If you are a man.” 

You say that because the way your magic curls away from him has you on edge. Humans may not scare you, but eldritch, ancient monsters do and they hunt little witches like you. Usually not in your own woods, but stranger things have happened. 

“‘Course I’m a man. Look at me.”

He presses the whole length of his body against yours, dragging you so close to him by your hair that you almost rise up onto your toes. He’s solid all the way through, only a bit of give around his middle. There’s something distinctly hard pressing against your low belly. It leaves you flustered, hot under your collar. An unfamiliar heat in your core, legs clenching on nothing. You give in to the instinctive urge to look down, but pressed so close to him, there’s little to see beyond the wideness of his chest, covered by a brown tunic laced up the front. 

“Means nothing. Plenty of things look like other things. I look like a girl but I am not,” you stutter. 

“Were you trying to eat me then, witch girl?” he breathes, amused. You yelp when he gives you a little shake by the hair. 

You flash your teeth at that, hoping he takes that as a threat. You have chewed off flesh far tougher than his. “Still might, human. If you don’t let me go.” 

He stares down at you, eyes giving nothing away. “It’s not every day that a little girl threatens to eat me. Not very nice, you know. I’ve cut down men twice your size for less.”

“You like bloodshed?”

“I trade in bounties; it’s part of the job. But, yes, girl. I like bloodshed.”

It’s not reassuring to hear that when his hands are fast on you. You wish now you hadn’t dreamed of this strange man immune to your magic and left him to his wandering. There are bears in these woods that could have dealt with him for you. 

“I’m—I’m not going to anymore,” you say, quieter now, hands falling back to his chest, trying to shove yourself just the slightest bit away. You don’t move an inch. “I’ll…I can find something else to eat. Just let me go.”

The man widens his stance, feet bracketing yours. In two hundred years, you haven’t felt small. You’ve felt tremendous, expansive, big as the whole forest; monstrous some days even. The most ferocious predator in the woods, the haunting lurching her way through the trees, belly hungry for iron blood and the ripe taste of fear. 

You feel that fear now in your mouth for the first time, sour.

He smiles behind the mask again. “Maybe later. Need to teach you a lesson.”

“A lesson?” Maybe the fear hasn’t sunk in all the way because you ask that when he lets go of his hold on your hair and drops his hands to your waist, getting a tight hold there. Twisting you around while he walks you back. 

“You all alone in the forest?” he asks instead of answering you. “Is there a house that I missed? Been here for months and haven’t seen one.”

“Of course, I—I live here.” You don’t want to say more than though, lest you reveal too much about yourself. You’re still wondering whether surviving this ordeal will be as simple as getting away. There’s something savage in his gaze now, the mealy taste in your mouth translating that look like the hunter looking upon the hunted. 

There’s a tree stump that he guides you to, shaded under the canopy. When he tips you over the stump, the breath rushes out of you. The edge is rough against your stomach. You don’t even notice him pulling up the back of your dress until a few seconds later. 

“Wait, hold on—that’s my indoor dress!” you cry out, the front of your dress scraping against the stump and sure to tear. “Let me go—stop it!”

Your drawers are next, slid down your hips while you squirm and wail, feet kicking out behind you. 

“Behave.” It’s punctuated by the sudden sting on your cheek, bottom flaming red by his hand. Pain is such a foreign concept to you that it initially leaves you speechless. 

He props you against the stump with little care for how your knees drag in the dirt and whether your underwear gets dirt on them. He keeps you pinned there with a big hand on the centre of your back. Your shimmying gets you nowhere, only planted farther into the dirt; it only scuffs up your knees and pulls wretched little noises from your throat. 

The terror comes when you’re bare to him and he draws his hand back. You gasp at the first smack, shocked; it’s a broken, stupid sound. At the next smack, you react properly, going into a frenzy, twisting left and right to get away, but helpless under just a fraction of his strength. Your magic does no good for once in your long life either. You feel it sit on the periphery, unsure of what to do because it cannot come close to this strange man for some reason. 

You yelp every time his hand comes down on your bottom. Red fills your vision. Tears do as well. 

“I am going to—” you break off on a yowl, back arching, “—I am going to eat the flesh off your bones for this! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

His chuckle is bone-chilling, ices you right over. “You oughta at least know the name of the man you’re going to eat. They call me Ghost.”

“I’ll call you—” The caustic name you were about to call him is ripped from your lips by another well-placed smack on your ass. 

You shriek so loud that the birds flee from their perches within the trees. 

The worst part is the way your thighs flex together with every smack. Belly clenching. You can feel slick gathering where it shouldn’t, a high blush splotched across your cheeks as you pray that he doesn’t notice. It doesn’t happen often, only in the week following your cycle when you feel ravenous and flushed, skin prickly and raw until you go outdoors and roll around in the dirt under the moonlight. Always by yourself, of course, naturally. 

Little panting breaths hiccup out of you, your cheeks overflowing with frustrated tears. After the first minute, you simply go limp. There’s nothing else you can do. Even trying to levitate does you no good, it only props your butt up higher into the air since Ghost’s hand on your upper back keeps your chest pressed to the stump. It only seems to amuse him, judging by the hoarse chuckle he lets out. 

Without your broom, the little bit of levitation is more of a party trick than anything—and you haven’t even been to a party in fifty years, not since your coven’s last autumnal gathering. Not that it matters at a time like this. His hand comes down on your butt again and you wail, shoes digging into the ground and kicking up dirt. Your mind goes blank again, thoughts replaced by the looping ow, ow, ow that also falls from your lips.

“Does it hurt, lovie?” Ghost asks, hand coming to rest on your livid cheek. It makes you hiss, turning your head until your cheek is pressed to the stump’s inner rings. His voice is gentle, but mocking, like the voice you use when hacking into a screaming man, asking him if he’d like his hand back while you dangle it in front of him.

“It’s going to hurt so much worse when I dice you into little pieces,” you hiss. He gives a mocking pat to your butt, making you flinch. 

“Learned your lesson yet?”

You keep your gaze stubbornly off to the side. Somehow, it would be worse to look over your shoulder and make eye contact with the strange beast at your back. “If you leave now, I won't sever your limbs from your body and roast your organs from the inside.”

“I take it you haven’t,” he says, another chuckle rumbling out of him. 

His hand comes off your naked rear. Your ears perk up when you hear the sound of fabric over fabric, wondering if maybe he’s pulling your underwear back up, but you don’t feel anything. What you feel instead is the sudden heaviness pushed between your thighs, nestled right up against your wet core, so unfamiliar that it makes you jump. You stay put though, held down still by his hand. 

“Put that back,” you say severely. 

He holds it against your sex with his free hand and presses forward, coating himself with your slick. “You’re not in a position to make demands, girl.”

“I’m going to slice every bit of skin off your bones.” Your mouth salivates at the thought, thinking of all the thick, iron-rich blood from someone Ghost’s size. 

Those thoughts disperse again like smoke when he ruts forward, the thick length between his legs gliding through your wetness. It makes you break out into a sweat, keen catching between your teeth, just narrowly bitten back. Ghost makes no effort to suppress his groans. They’re loud, a lustful, masculine pleasure that you’ve heard far off in your woods before—unfortunate couples come to copulate before meeting their end at your hands—but never so close. Never right up in your ear.

“It’s not fair,” you sob, emotional suddenly. “You’re just going to—to do that and then kill me.”

He leans his full weight over you, the rough texture of his shirt catching on the back of your dress. You’re sweating so hard now that the lace embroidery around your collar is thoroughly soaked, clinging to your skin. 

“‘M not gonna kill you. What would I do something like that for?”

You sniff. “It’s what I would do.”

He chuckles again, the sound reverberating through you with him all pressed up against you. It would almost be pleasant if it weren’t for the cock pumping between your thighs. That brings you right back down to earth, mind torn away from the ravens perched in the branches of the tree looming over you, watching you from above. If you were able to pay them any close attention, you’d probably hear them chattering about the position their little witch has found herself in. 

“C’mon now,” Ghost grunts in your ear, hips shifting back. “Be a good little witch and say a little spell—don’t wanna knock you up on the first try.”

You open your mouth to reply and squeal when he rocks back forward, the bulbous tip pressing into you this time. Your toes flex in your shoes, thighs spreading without any prompting from him. You don’t even notice the hand on your upper back travelling to your waist, both of his big hands gripping you there now to hold you in place. There’s no thought of trying to get away, just breathing around the immense stretch from his shaft driving up into you.

“Ooh, no, no—it’s too much,” you squeak, fingers digging into the sides of the stump, the wood cutting into your soft skin. 

It is too much. It doesn’t even feel entirely possible. Even with the wetness leaking from you, his cock only manages to fit a couple inches in you before you’re too tight. 

“You’re doing fine, lovie,” he rasps into your ear, drawing his hips back and then plunging back into you, deeper than before. “See? Not so bad, is it? Gonna take a little more for me, a’right?”

“No—no more,” you slur, tongue heavy in your mouth. “Can you just—just keep it right there?”

“Yeah? That enough for you?”

Your fingers unlatch from the bark of the tree, trembling when you reach down to wipe them off on your dress before dragging the palm of your hand over your clit. It makes you jump and whine. The skin of your palm is a bit textured from gripping onto the stump, but the friction makes your brain leak right out of your ear. Especially when you push your hips back just a little bit, nervously fucking yourself on his cock.

Ghost laughs and lets go of your hip to bat your hand away, then reaches back around to fit a big hand around your jaw.

He holds your jaw in a single hand, palm supporting your chin. “You ever going to do this again, girl? Go up to strange men in the woods?”

You almost don’t hear him over the blood in your ears. A thick cock spears into you for the first time in your life and the man rutting into you expects coherence? Maybe you babble something into the palm of his hand, but it’s lost to the world when he pulls your knee out to make more room for himself and tips your ass up.

He gives your cheek a solid pat. “C’mon, focus on me, lovie. Tell me what you’re gonna do from now on.”

Your breathing picks up, heavier. When you don’t respond again, he abruptly pulls out and stands up, hauling you up to your feet with him. All of the blood rushes from your head, pooling around your pretty black shoes. Leaves crunch under your feet when he turns the two of you around and sits down on the stump where you’d just been spread over. The hands on your waist turn you to face him and that’s when an inkling of struggle works its way back into your veins. 

You hiss and snarl when he lifts you to straddle his thighs, particularly when you see the brutish, ruddy cock jutting out from his trousers. Ghost seems more amused than anything at your little attempts to escape, clutching you closer to him until your chests are pressed tight together, making it all the more intimate. All the more real. 

“Quit fussing.” You jump at the sharp slap he delivers to your ass. 

“Going to curse your whole lineage—” you grit out, wincing when he draws you back down over his length, cunt fluttering at the stretch. You can’t help dropping your forehead to his chest, shoulder hitched with a frustrated cry. 

His groan makes you seize up, a hot flash darting through you. “Don’t be like that, lovie. Might be yours too.”

A haze passes over you when firm hands lift you up off his cock and plop you back down, emptying you of any thoughts like you’d tipped your head and all the water had poured out. 

The worst is the way your body betrays you. Each time he shoves his fat cock into your cunt, a whine rattles out of you, snatched from your chest. Robbed from you. The nearby leaves rustle and swirl up into the air with an artificial wind, magic singing their edges. He reaches so much deeper inside of you like this, splayed on his lap, hands gripping onto his shoulders for dear life because it takes every bit of energy in your body to merely take his cock into you. 

Your knees scrape against the uneven wood every time he drags you back down. They’ll probably be scraped raw by the end of it; you’ll need to tearfully smooth on ointment and wrap thick bandages around them when you get back to the cottage. 

“There we go. Fuckin’ take it—come on,” Ghost grunts, dragging you down onto his length, just using your body how he likes. 

The thick head grinds up against a spot deep inside of you, spongy and sensitive. You feel it all the way up in your throat. Every time his cock rubs against that spot, your nails dig into his shoulders. A violent shudder rips through you because this position also lets him grind your clit down against the root of his cock. 

“Ghost—”

He ducks his covered mouth into the side of your neck. Even through the fabric, you can feel his lips press a firm, closed-mouth kiss there. “Bit more, bit more, love. Better than you thought it’d be, huh? Fuck. Only thing magic about you is this wet pussy. Fuck hiding this from me—gonna ride it twice a day from now on.”

“Never doing this ever again, you beast—”

Ghost bites you through the mask, the pressure dull but real. It says, try keeping it from me.

When you come, it’s sudden and sharp, painful like a cramp in your belly and then a wave of bone-deep pleasure. Ghost wrangles it from you with a thumb on your clit, pumping up into your pussy at the same time. He wrenches it from you like it’s his, like you have no choice but to come for him because he wants it. You press your whole body against him when you come, arms wrapping around his neck like you need him close. Heat unfolding and leaving you limp. No cauldron has ever boiled as hot as your flesh does now. 

He pulls out of you before coming. You watch helplessly as he settles you close enough to keep the heat of your pussy on him and then wraps a firm hand around himself, giving it a few good tugs before a white rope of come spurts from his cock. Right onto your exposed pussy, spilling across your folds. Your mouth drops open on a soft whine as it stripes across your inner thighs and the front of your dress, painting it white. 

His harsh pants ebb into something softer as his cock goes flacid against his thigh. You feel boneless, drained of all your energy. Even your magic only gives a pathetic twitch, the tendrils of it curling back up inside of you where it’s nice and warm. 

Your cunt feels tender, puffy when you reach down and touch it. You flinch when his fingers graze against yours, also feeling around your swollen lips. Ghost knuckles your fingers out of the way and scoops up the mess he left between your thighs, pushing two fingers just past your entrance. You don’t even have the energy to yelp, only wince and mewl.

He shushes you. “Didn’t even come inside. Quit whining.”

His words are belied by the way he scoops more of his come up into you. 

You really don’t like that he follows you home. The march back to your cozy cottage nestled in the middle of the forest feels like a death march, one you might have witnessed in the hundreds of years that you’ve lived here. Worse still because your legs are still wobbly, your sex achy and raw. Still, whenever you pause for a moment or lean against a tree, he nudges you forward with a hand on your back.

“This is unfair,” you snivel, eyes tearing up. “You can’t—this is my forest.”

“The woods don’t belong to anyone, girl,” Ghost counters. 

“Yes, they do. I’ve been…it’s been mine for two hundred years.”

“Of course, lovie.” You can almost hear the roll of his eyes. It makes you grit your teeth. You can’t wait to bury him in the backyard with all the bone mandalas. 

It doesn’t take long for him to settle in, making himself nice and comfortable on your plush couch with the intricate doilies knitted by your grandmother draped along the back. Your poor couch almost collapses under his weight. 

Your cottage is far too small for someone of his size; you built it to accommodate someone of your size, not the behemoth that’s taken up residence in your house. You know that Ghost is more of a man of action than words, but he’s plenty happy to grumble about needing to redo the door to make it big enough for him to come inside without having to duck his head. 

“You aren’t going to touch a single brick of my house.”

“I’ll take apart the whole damned thing if I want.”

You keep trying to lift him up with your magic but it does nothing to him and only tires you out because using magic is exhausting. You’re sweating and panting at the end of your efforts while Ghost just stands in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest and a single eyebrow raised. It’s humiliating. You used to be a powerful witch. You still are. 

He lets you yell at him until you’re red in the face and then drags you down for a rough fuck. Arguments with Ghost often end that way—you, sore and satiated in your bed, the window opened to let some fresh air in. Him, spread out next to you and dragging you close, playing absentmindedly with a nipple until you pinch his side. That always gets you a meaner pinch, one that leaves you teary-eyed and hot all over again. 

Magic might not work on him, but he’s still mortal, so you try to work with that. Bear traps by the windows and doors. Hemlock in the soap. Poison in his stew. He’s stealthier than you anticipate though and seems to have a sixth sense for death. 

It’s demeaning and humiliating to be punished for your ‘bad behaviour’ but that’s what he calls it when he passes by the kitchen and catches the stew burping out the telltale skull shaped steam. You’re taken off kitchen duty after that, but the worst part is being trapped under him on the bed with your hands pinned over your head, bottom exposed to him yet again. He laughs a little later on when you squirm around on your hard kitchen chairs because you refuse to sit on his lap.

Sometimes when he has you trapped under him when you’re sleeping—because, of course, he commandeers your bed like it was built for someone his size when truthfully he should be in a bed twice as large—he wakes up to you gnawing at his shoulder and he has to hold you jaw in his hand and rumble out “No biting” before going back to sleep. You stare over his shoulder petulantly, not even bothering to fight the pout. The kettle whispers in the kitchen, fueled by your frustration.

Ghost only lets out a dry, husky laugh. It sends a shiver down your spine. 

Asphodel takes to him like a new favourite thing, winding around his legs while you glare from the other room. Damned familiar. 

You only start to lighten up when your senses tingle one day when you’re out picking berries in the woods and you come back to find him ruthlessly butchering a band of raiders that had been trampling through your woods. He slaughters them methodically, almost bored. Almost like he does this every day. 

You can’t help the way it makes your pussy ache. 

He catches the look in your eye. You’ve been alone for far too long in the woods; everything you feel is laid bare, open for anyone to see. Ghost is just always looking. 

He grins under the mask, blood splattered across the front of his shirt. “Go on, lovie. I’ll be inside in just a few.”

Molten slickness drips from between your thighs. You bite your lip before you slip away, blood growing feverish when you glance back down at the mangled bodies bleeding out in the red-orange leaves. There’s a severed eye that’s rolled off to the side and your stomach gurgles. 

You lick your lip and look up at him from under your eyelashes. “Save me some for supper?”

Ghost’s eyes soften, a sharp contrast from the gore and viscera piled around him. “‘Course, lovie.”

The world seems different with the arrival of him. Cranberries beneath the sycamore, the russet moon on harvest's day, the scent of soldering iron, the laughter woven between your many faces. With him, you feel like the cynosure of all eyes. 

In the twilight hours, he presses a hand to your forehead and laves your belly with his tongue like he might push something back in there. The curtains draw shut and the lights flicker off.

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

Part 1: Linked Here | Part 2: Linked Here | Part 3: Linked Here | Part 4: Linked Here

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

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

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

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

Link to My Master List

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

Deep in your bones, you feel upset.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Toru: Y/N! What’s the deal!?

Mina: Is everything okay?

Toru: So totally rude of you to ignore us!

Mina: You look like death.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Honenuki: *typing*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You leave Shoto confused and alone in the large space.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The class groans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Shoto?”

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

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

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

Shoto considers this, and nods with understanding.

“Does anyone else have a question about boundaries?”

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

The lesson ends there.

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

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

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

Crap, you really screwed this one up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s been a while.” You say slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where do you keep your comfortable clothes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You all return to the dorms forty minutes later, with plenty of time to get back to your separate rooms before the curfew takes effect.

A battle plan has been drawn out, and commitments have been made. You have a sour taste in your mouth at the thought of your eventual kiss with Mineta, but sacrifices must be made. After all, the fate of the party of the century hangs in the balance.

You make a mental note to make sure that Shoto is cool with all of this – after all, it would be super hypocritical for you to be jealous of Shoto’s non-existent relationship with YaMomo, and then to turn around and give another guy a peck on the mouth.

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

When you finally make it back to your dorm, you’re riding an absolute high. You and your friends are planning the biggest secret party in UA history, and with the kickass strategy you all have developed, you anticipate the whole thing going off without a hitch. Monoma truly is a genius – you can’t wait to see his tightly orchestrated plan come to life. The man truly loves pulling all the strings behind the scenes.

Thanks to your nap, you’re feeling a bit more rested and energized. You text Shoto.

Y/N: Hey Shoto, you up?

Shoto: It’s only 9. Of course I’m awake.

Y/N: Have time to come through? I want to properly thank you for taking care of me earlier.

Shoto: I just finished some homework, I can come over for a bit before curfew.

Y/N: Perf! I have the perfect idea of how I can return the favor and TAKE CARE OF YOU! 👀

Shoto: I’m nervous. The all caps coming from you is aggressive.

Y/N: That was supposed to be cute and flirty 😉 Don’t be scared!! ☠️

Shoto: Ok. I’ll be down in 5.

True to his word, Shoto arrives in a timely fashion. He slips through your unlocked door like a ghost in the night.

“Hey, Y/N. How was your meeting with Mina and…?”

His jaw drops in surprise when he looks up to find you in nothing but your bra and panties. It’s a matching set – midnight blue and lacy around the edges. You’re feeling bold.

“I was trying to think of a way that I could properly thank you for taking such good care of me earlier…” You trail off, reaching behind him to turn the lock to your door.

“…And I came up with an idea. Get on the bed?” You ask sweetly. Shoto wastes no time obeying your request. He hurriedly scrambles onto the bed with the speed of a teenage boy who’s been promised a sexual favor. You climb up after him, lifting the hem of his t-shirt suggestively.

“Clothes off.” You say, tugging at the shirt a bit to see a flash of his perfect stomach before dropping the fabric from your fingertips.

Shoto doesn’t need telling twice – he strips, pulling the shirt over his head with lightening fast reflexes. His perfectly toned abs glow under the fairy lights, and you lick your lips at the sight. He hurriedly slips his sweatpants down his hips and takes them off one leg at a time, still managing to look graceful despite his frantic energy.

He throws his pants out onto the floor, out of sight. He’s wearing a pair of loose grey boxer shorts, his hardening cock already visible through the thin fabric. You reach out a hand to trace along the outline of his pulsing member, causing him to get even stiffer under your teasing touch. He looks down at you with that heaven-piercing gaze. Perfect.

You lean towards him, ghosting gentle kisses along the curve of his pale neck.  “What do you want Shoto?” You breathe wetly into his ear, running your hand down his bare chest. “Tell me, and I’ll make it happen.” You hear Shoto’s breath catch in his throat at the implication. An open ended offer is a valuable thing – you wonder how he’ll use it?

“I’m thinking…maybe you could do that thing with your hands again?” He says sheepishly, pupils blown wide as he watches you palm at his dick over his boxers.

“You mean a hand job? Are you asking for a hand job?” You say, laughing, as he blushes crimson as his hair.

“I guess I am.” He says, breathing shakily. He leans down into your hair and mumbles “It feels so much better when you do it. I’ve been trying to replicate it on my own but…it’s just not the same.”

You smile. “I can definitely do that for you. Tell me, how badly do you want it?” You ask in a tone that’s barely above a whisper. You squeeze his package lightly over the boxers. He almost moans at the touch.

“I want it…so badly Y/N. Please.”

The light begging sparks something in your core and you’re already so wet you fear you may soak through your panties. Again. Wow, this is becoming quite a bad habit of yours.

“Take off the boxers.” You command softly, and Shoto accommodates – stripping down to nothing. Once again, here is thisa beautiful man buck naked in your bed. It’s enough to make you see fireworks behind your eyes.

He sits there, fully exposed, his cock hard and laying flush against his taught muscled stomach. You long to reach out and take him in your hand, but you know you know you need to be patient.

“Shoto, you said you’ve been trying to replicate the hand job I gave you?” You ask amiably. He nods. “I want you to show me how you like to do it on your own. Show me how you touch yourself, Sho.”

He glances up at you uncertainly through thick lashes, looking between you and his cock with trepidation. “Are you sure? Would that not be…weird?”

“Not at all!” You reassure him. “It’s the best way for me to learn how to pleasure you. I want to see what you like so I can add it into the mix. It’s like hero training – we need to learn from each other to be the best we can be.”

This analogy makes perfect sense to Shoto, who understands the importance of training. “Alright. If it would help. But I feel pretty self-conscious right now.”

“That’s perfectly understandable.” You say, placing another string of kisses to his jawline. “Try not to be too nervous. Remember - we’re just having fun and exploring, right?” You pause. “Plus…it would be really fuckin’ hot to see you jerk yourself off in my bed. So know that I’m completely and totally into this. If that helps.”

This makes Shoto smile. “It actually does help.” He laughs softly, turning his head to capture your lips in a brief smooch.

“Right.” Shoto says, drawing in a shaky breath. He looks at you nervously, before glancing down at his erect cock once more. He reaches for it, wraps his fingers around himself and gives a light tug. You watch as he slowly starts stroking at himself, concentrating a bit more on the head here and there. He glances up at you from time to time, letting his eyes roam across your breasts and the gentle curves of your hips.

You move the straps of your bra off your shoulders, giving him a bit of a show before you reach behind you to unclip the bra all together. You toss the fabric to the floor in what’s rapidly becoming a familiar gesture with Shoto. His breath hitches in the back of his throat as his eyes take in your perfect breasts. He picks up his pace, jerking himself off in a succinct rhythm as his eyes devour your chest.

“Come here.” He groans. You scoot towards him in the bed.

“What do you want?” You ask, voice soft but demanding.

“I want your breasts in my mouth. Right now.” He says, not breaking stride as he continues to work at his rock hard cock.

You reposition yourself so that you’re slightly above him and you lean forward. He can’t help himself – before you’ve settled into a comfortable position, he’s captured one of your nipples in his mouth. He suckles on it, using his tongue and teeth to tease the delicate flesh. The pleasure that shoots through you is unquantifiable. You lean into his mouth and your eyes flutter shut as he uses his free hand to give attention to your other tit. The gratification is so good you hope he never stops.

But then you remember – you have a goddamn plan here. You should be watching and learning to see what Shoto likes. Your eyes fly open and you try to ignore the absolutely incredible things this Todoroki blessing is doing to your breasts.

“Shoto…” You try to get his attention. He looks up at you from down where he’s sucking on your tit and cocks and eyebrow questioningly.

“Mmm?”

“Shoto, this is fucking hot, but I’m trying to concentrate. Please – show me what you like and talk me through it.” You try to keep your voice as level as possible, even as he pinches a nipple and rubs the pad of his thumb over the delicate nub with his free hand. After a quick moment, comprehension dawns in his eyes and his mouth releases your boob with a wet “pop!”

“Sorry, I got carried away.” His face is red with embarrassment as you slide to sit next to him.

“Don’t be. I like it when you get carried away. You’re so goddamn hot Sho.” You plant a kiss on his cheek. “Now get back to it – and talk me through what you like.”

Shoto looks down at his cock and resumes stroking it. “So I hold my hand like this around it, see?” He demonstrates how he keeps a loose closed grip around his dick, sliding his hand along the base for a few deep strokes before concentrating around the head. “This part is the most sensitive, so when I want to finish I concentrate a lot here. But first I work myself up by starting down here.” He moves his hand down to the base of his dick to show you. “And I’ll tease myself a little as I work back up to the top.”

“Sometimes, I like to touch my…um…testicles a bit. It feels really nice to kind of…uh this is super awkward to explain…it feels good to move them around?”

“I think I understand.” You say, watching as he shows you how he likes to be played with. You let him work at himself until you see shiny beads of pre-cum form at the head of his cock.

“Okay, my turn to drive.” You say, reaching to shoo Shoto’s steady hand out of the way so that you can replace it with your own. “There we go.” You wrap your hand around his hard cock and start at the base the way he explained. You slowly roll your hand midway up his shaft before bringing it back down to the base. Shoto sighs at the motion, his hips flexing in a way that implies that he’s dying to thrust up into your hand.

You continue to tease him that way, coming closer and closer to the sensitive tip of his cock without truly touching it. You can tell by the expressions stretched across his face that he simultaneously loves and hates what you’re doing to him. You grin; enjoying the control you have as you edge him.

With your free hand, you reach down to fondle his balls, trying to mimic the motion he showed you. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you start to shift his package around, and you can tell from the way he bites back a moan that it must feel so, incredibly good to be touched this way.

Finally, you release his cock and bring your small hand to your mouth. You make a show of licking the palm of your hand before spitting cleanly into it. Shoto’s eyes widen in surprise at the crude gesture, but his cock twitches in anticipation.

You bring your spit-filled hand down to his dick and resume jerking him off – this time starting low at the base and continuing all the way up to the tip. Your saliva allows for your hand to slide and glide in a delicious way that it hadn’t previously. Shoto lets out a curse followed by your name at the feeling.

“Fuck, Y/N. Holy fucking fuck.” It’s the most you’ve ever heard him curse, and the lilt of his lust filled voice is absolutely sinful. You grin like a Cheshire cat as you stroke him the way he showed you, focusing on the sensitive head. His breathing is ragged, and he’s absolutely wrecked as you continue to run your lubed up hand along the very tip of his rigid member. “Shit. Y/N. I’m going to - ”

Shoto orgasms hard - thick waves of hot cum shooting up and flowing over your delicate hand as you continue to work at him. His legs jerk with the suddenness of his climax. His breath hitches in his throat and you fear that he’s stopped breathing as his hips roll up, thrusting his cock into your grip over and over and over. You use your hand to milk him for all that he’s worth, being sure to mimic the way that you had watched him grip his dick earlier in his demonstration. The expression on his face is priceless – his eyes are wide and filled with an expression of rapture, his mouth caught open in a small “o.”

Whatever you’re doing seems to be doing the trick, because it is quite a bit before he catches his breath and politely removes your hand from his spent, pulsing cock. He’s over stimulated and panting, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N, that was…” He’s still breathing heavy.

You reach across him to grab a conveniently placed washcloth off of your nightstand (you had a feeling that you’d be needing some cleanup supplies tonight). You wipe the sticky mess from your hand before giving him the cloth. He gratefully accepts, wiping the cum that’s pooled along the defined planes of his stomach and in the well of his bellybutton. “That was incredible. You take direction so well.” He says, his voice a bit fuzzy around the edges as he drops his head back to rest on your pillow.

You lay back with him, moving your clean hand to stroke his hair slowly. He leans into the touch, eyes heavy and half lidded as he comes down from his high.

“I’m a fast learner.” You say, enjoying the soft texture of his fluffy hair as you flutter your fingers through his dense locks. You lay there for a few minutes, playing with  Shoto’s hair and letting him bask in the afterglow. He’s completely naked and gorgeous in the glow of your fairy lights, his pale skin rippling with muscle.

“It’s almost curfew…you’d better get going in case Mr. Aizawa makes a bed check appearance.” You say with regret, wishing Shoto could stay with you through the night.

Shoto turns his head and groans into your shoulder. “But I want to stay here forever. It’s so comfortable here with your hands in my hair. And I’m so tired now.” He almost whines. You smile – a month ago you would have never thought Shoto Todoroki capable of whining. 

“I wish you could stay, too.” You coo, continuing to card your fingers through his mismatched locks.

“I like it here. Maybe I’ll move in. Stake claim on all of your plushes.” He reaches out and grabs his favorite plush from behind your head. He holds it close to your face and waves it up and down a few times, pretending to make it dance. “Squirtle, Squirtle.” He says in a strained, warbley voice. You giggle at his goofy attempt at mimicking the water Pokémon.

Afterglow Shoto sure is chatty. He looks so open and relaxed, his facial features at rest.

“Oh my God Shoto…did you finally look up Pokémon!?”

He hugs the plush to his bare chest and laughs. “I watched 12 episodes. I had to keep watching until Squirtle showed up. I would give my life for the Squirtle Squad.”

This cracks you up. You laugh even harder when you look up and see the way that Shoto is sprawled across your bed – completely naked except for the large Squirtle plush clutched to his chest. You point at him and make a little choked squeak. He realizes how ridiculous he looks and soon you’re both in hysterics, gasping for breath. It’s a wonder that no one has knocked on your door yet and asked you to quiet down.

After a few minutes you both calm down enough to catch your breath. You slide off the bed and scoop Shoto’s grey boxers off the ground and toss them in his direction. He drops Squirtle for a moment so he can shimmy into his underwear. Partially clothed once more, he flops on his back and pulls the covers up to his chin. He tucks Squirtle in beside him. You move to get back into the bed and join him, but he holds up a hand and puts on a serious expression. “Sorry – there’s no room for you. This bed is for card carrying members of the Squirtle Squad only.”

You smile and then paste a theatrical pout on your face. “You goof. How does one apply for Squirtle Squad membership?”

“Hmm.” Shoto brings his hand to his chin as if deep in thought. “You need to pay our membership dues. It’ll cost you a kiss.”

“That’s pretty expensive.”

“Squad Membership is well worth the fee, I promise.” He nods stoically, looking over at the Squirtle plush beside him. “Squirtle can confirm.” He gestures at the plush, which stares up at you blankly with its large embroidered eyes.  

“What does Squad Membership include?” You ponder aloud, pretending to think it over.

“If you join up now, I’ll act as your official heat and ice pack.” Shoto holds up both hands above his face as an offering. “And I’ll make you cum whenever you want.”

“Whenever I want?” You repeat. “Now that’s an intriguing offer. I think I’ll take it.” You lean down and cup his soft cheek in your hand, bringing his mouth to yours. Your lips melt into his and you kiss him soundly. He moans into your mouth, moving his lips softly against your own.

It’s wonderful to be with him like this – so open and having fun like regular teenagers. There’s no pressure to put on a brave face and to be strong heroes in training. In these stolen moments, its okay to just be. You break the kiss and pull yourself up into he bed and under the comforter. Within seconds, you’re wrapped up in Shoto’s arms and he pulls you against his bare chest.

“Welcome to the Squad. Your membership is approved.” He places a kiss on your forehead and you snuggle into him. You take a deep breath, letting your tired body relax against Shoto’s solid warmth. 

You lay in silence for a bit, just enjoying each others company. Shoto’s breathing is slow and even. You can tell he’s feeling comfortable and relaxed after his orgasm. He nuzzles his face into your shoulder and huffs into the curve of your neck. After a bit, Shoto gets too warm and uncouples himself from you so he can pull down the comforter a bit.

“You know, I was thinking…” Shoto rolls over onto his back and crosses his arms behind his head. He’s partially naked and gorgeous in the glow of your fairy lights, his pale skin rippling with muscle. He looks up at the ceiling. “Summer training camp is coming up. I heard that this year we are going for 2 weeks. They plan to put us through a week and a half of training, and then we’ll get a few days just to have fun and enjoy being outside. There will be hiking, and campfires…maybe the two of us can sneak off and just have some time together? No curfews, no whispering. No hiding away.” He turns his head to look at you.

“That sounds really, really nice.” You say, reaching over to give him a big boop on his nose. He smiles at the contact. You love seeing him like this – usually he is so closed off and stoic. Every smile you can get out of him is a prize in itself. “I doubt we’ll truly be able to sneak off given how large and damn nosy our class is…but we can definitely try.”

Shoto closes his eyes, a blissful expression etched across his features. “I just picture the two of us on a moonlit hike, just able to enjoy the scenery together. We can listen to the cicadas and the crickets in the quiet of the dark. It’s such a calming thought in my mind. I’d like to share that moment of peace with you.”

“Orgasms make you talk nonsense.” You joke, trying to ignore the way that your heart is squeezing at his words.

He opens his eyes and scans your face. “You’d like that, though?”

“Of course I would, Shoto. It would be nice to get out of the city and to see some greenery. To be together outside of our dorm rooms. I wish that we didn’t need to sneak around so much…I wish that we were older and that we could just do whatever we want without consequence.” You say wistfully, reaching to grab your phone and check the time. “Crap, it’s nearly 10.”

Shoto pulls you into another embrace, shifting his hands around you so he can cradle your breasts. He plays with your nipples a bit, swirling his fingertips around them delicately. You gasp at the contact, your pussy instantly responding to the touch.  “I can’t go yet – I haven’t made you cum.” Shoto whispers thickly into your ear, pinching a nipple with each hand. You make a strangled sort of noise, sliding a hand down between your legs to give your clit a brief pulse to sate the hungry way its pulsing beneath the smooth fabric of your panties.

“Shoto…if you stay any longer and Aizawa comes around, we’re gonna get caught.” You say in a pained voice as he continues to play with your tits. You can’t let this go any further or you both are done for. “Shoto, you’ve gotta go.”

“But it’s not fair if I don’t make you - ” You move to regretfully remove his wandering hands from your boobs.

“I can take care of it myself this time.” You say, in a sultry tone. “And I’ll think of you the whole time.” You turn to look over your shoulder to see Shoto’s face has gone beat red at the implication that you’ll be spending the rest of the evening masturbating to thoughts of him.

He lets out a shaky breath, still clearly uncomfortable with the thought of leaving you hanging. “Alright, Y/N. But next time, the focus is all on you to make up for it. Okay?”

“I think I can live with that.” You smile, and reach behind you to give him a light shove to leave.

Shoto grins softly as he untangles himself from you, climbing over your body to get out of the bed. His feet hit the ground and he stretches languidly before reaching for his abandoned clothes. He pulls his shirt and pants on unceremoniously as you watch, laughing at the way his soft sweatpants stretch back into place over the smooth curve of his ass.

“You’re too cute.” You say, reaching to pull him back to the bed so you can give him one more quick kiss. He smiles into the smooch, wrapping his arms around you in a warm, steady embrace.

“I’ll text you?” He says softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I’ll make sure I take my phone back with me this time.” This earns a laugh.

“Please do.”

“Well, goodnight then.” He kisses your cheek and then makes his way to the door; he peaks out into the hallway before making his usual fast exit. You pray he doesn’t get caught by Aizawa again – he would probably demand an explanation from Shoto.

You lay in your bed, relaxed, staring up at your ceiling. Life sure has been complicated lately – between school, training, an unexpected romance, and the illicit party planning, you sure are having an adventure.

You allow yourself to replay a scene from earlier in your mind: “Fuck, Y/N. Holy fucking fuck.” Shoto curses as you stroke his cock mercilessly, bringing him to the brink of climax. “Shit. Y/N. I’m going to…”

You feel arousal twinge between your legs once again and you bring your fingers down to touch yourself over your panties. You wish Shoto was still here to help – all you can think of is the loving way that he sometimes uses his wet tongue to play with your nipples. You roll over onto your stomach so you can increase the pressure of your fingers against your clit. Mmm. You replay the image of Shoto’s pretty “O” face over and over again as you bring yourself to the brink of climax.

Before long, new thoughts are blooming into your brain. You imagine what it would be like to have Shoto’s fingers on you instead. What would it be like to feel that pretty cock slide inside of you - to be physically filled to the brim with Shoto Todoroki? You’ve never really fantasized about actual act of intercourse before, and you wonder how it would feel to be that connected with Shoto. You picture his voice pitching and sighing as he slides in and out of you, his strong hands bracing on your hips. The thought of Shoto’s thick cock sliding against your wet pussy causes your breath to stick in your throat. Your heart pulses impossibly fast as you use your fingertips to push yourself over the edge, gasping into your pillow. Oh fuck that’s good.

Shoto Todoroki and his hot body are truly going to be the death of you. You can picture your epitaph in your head – “Here lies Y/N. She was brought to the gates at heaven by Shoto Todoroki’s hard cock. May she rest in peace, having known what true ecstasy feels like.”

You smile at that unhinged thought. Your phone buzzes next to you and you flip around the screen to see a text from Shoto.

Shoto: I made it back to my dorm room. Did not get caught this time.

Shoto: Typing.

Shoto: Did you…take care of things?

Y/N: Haha yeah. I just finished. Was thinking about you the whole time.

Shoto replies with a single word.

Shoto: Fuck.

Shoto: Next time, I’ll take care of you myself. I promise.

Y/N: You've already taken care of me so much today, but I’ll hold you to that. ☺️ Goodnight, Shoto.

Shoto: Goodnight Y/N.

You put your phone back on your bedside table and snuggle up in your bed, pulling the Squirtle plush close to you and wishing that it were Shoto Todoroki.

End of Chapter.

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

HOLY GUACAMOLE!! This chapter ended up being 30 pages - I know in my last chapter post I said that Chapter 5 would focus on The Party - but y'all all of your reactions to the Chapter 4 cliff hanger made me want to create a more satisfying plot line surrounding the YaMomo text. In short - the comments you leave influence the story a lot more than you'd think! So I hope you enjoyed this chapter and Shoto's sweet way of taking care of the Reader. I try to make The Reader a pretty general character so that it's easy to self-insert, but she's kind of developing her own personality which is fun too!

Part 6 is already in the works and partially written. I have most of THE PARTY scenes drafted and typed out, and I'm really excited for you all to see what I've been cooking up for this story arc. I also want to lay the ground work for future arcs as well - I don't anticipate this tale ending any time soon! It seems to take me a month/month and a half to churn out each chapter, so please feel free to check out my other work on My Master List as you wait!

I have been so locked in on this Todoroki story that I've been neglecting one shots lately. I hope to finish a little Kirishima focused fic soon, plus I have an idea for a tale surrounding All Might (the working title is gonna be something like "United States of Smash that Ass" idk its gonna be goofy and All Might is gonna have a huge cock or something stupid like that). TLDR: Keep an eye on my blog for more fun content surrounding our other favorite heroes as you wait for Chapter 6!

As always, thank you thank you thank you for all of your positive comments, messages and reblogs of my work. This passion project has brought me so much joy and I love how much joy it seems to bring all of you. Thanks for joining me on this wild ride, excited to see all that happens next!

XoXo, Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

❄️🔥THE ICYTHOTS🔥❄️

Want to join or be removed from the tag list - let me know! Once again, this is an ADULT ONLY blog. The IcyThot club is exclusively dedicated to the Shoto's First Kiss series and will only include A18+. Do not request to be added unless you are over 18. I'm also adding the "sexual content" label/tags.

supersecretsamm luvsymai s0uldarling quackledoodleduck

bakugosgirl01 jeanbabygirl ninayourdad dumbdysstuff

duffyinwonderland purplesuunset brundark100 sh3752 erinalysa

luna100v0 justagirlfr mayurin17 kiromiix ellalcves pokeureyesoutmf

kimsrie inlovewithluffy wtvbabes s0uldarling jeanbabygirl ava-cjkk

theblueslytherin amajikisbabygirl ilovefanficsandstars

brundark100 dee-writes-smut doodlingpizza xjustxlookingx

ankle-biter69 s0uldarling tridentgumfreshy kimsrie

brie-is-cheesy jeanbabygirl kinichmyma ellielover69 ilyless

slut-4-gojo kiromiix celesteeeluv zanzie y0urlittlebaby

saucypeanuttt gojosukuna2268 purplesuunset wifeofleviackerman

kunikissr hicallmeveronica 18wqs lviaaaa shoutolust

jeanbabygirl aespie aniyaaaaayyya annonymoose

solarsistem sugurusmoon morganalatina21 hanta-seros-wifey

vr00m-vr00m desiree-lee zozosnothere tnywabbit

winters-midnightquiet jennapancake himitsu-hikari

captainshindo fluffy-strawb3rry

elizarikaallen stanseventeen signmyheart llymoonju kinichmyman

scaranarav neogogori stoat-a10

yuta & taehyung, unhealthy relationship | — you are the knife I turn inside myself, this is love.

this video got me thinking….its kinda giving choso so walk with me real quick besties

˚ʚ♡ɞ

“fuckkkk,” the back of choso’s head knocked against the headboard, his chest heaving with a thin sheen of sweat covering it. the poor boy couldn’t form a single thought—the only thing swirling around in his empty mind is that he needed more.

his breath hitched when he felt your tongue wrap around his nipple once more, flicking the sensitive bud with your tongue. you didn’t bother saying much to him, it’d be pointless being the only word he could respond with was a breathy ‘fuck’.

“i’m ’bout to—hmph! nut again, it’s coming baby,” his head lolled onto his shoulder, his hips now bucking up to create a rhythm with your hand. you hummed around his nipple, squeezing his angry red tip, the clear pearls of precum leaking from his tip had you dying for a taste. “be louder…w’nna hear you cho,” you whispered in his ear, licking at the shell of it.

choso shuddered rather violently at the feeling, but nonetheless he got louder for you—a tad bit louder than you had expected. choso’s mouth dropped opened, a symphony of whiny moans following right after.

if he had any energy he’d fuck your fist himself, but alas after 3 consecutive orgasms all he could do was pathetically roll his hips. “so fuckin’ close, cmon baby make me cum,” choso nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt your soft hands begin to play his balls, squeezing them ever so softly.

choso’s entire body went limp as his orgasm hit, moan after pornographic moan spilling past his kiss bitten lips. the first shot of cum landed on his chest, some getting on his chin, which you greedily licked at a second later. his thighs shook in overstimulation, nearly closing because now it was really starting to become too much.

“baby baby baby wait—hah! you’re gonna f-fuckin’ kill me,” his larger hand wrapped weakly around your wrist, but it stopped nothing. you kissed you way up his chest to his neck, sloppily kissing, licking, and sucking any bit you could get. he just smelled so good—like vanilla and cinnamon, you just wanted to eat him up.

you brushed his hair out his face with your free hand. you looked into his tired, yet oh so lustful eyes, “you good?” you asked, halting your hand’s movements. choso sniffled and gave you a weak nod, “want you to drain me dry angel, even if i start crying.” it’s funny because just as choso finished his sentence a stray tear slipped from his eye, landing on his already messy abdomen.

choso stuck out his tongue making you giggle. you knew exactly what he wanted. you leant over, wasting no time shoving your tongue in his mouth, swallowing up his whiny moans. you resumed your hand’s movements, squealing when you felt choso’s teeth sink into your bottom lip.

he truly didn’t know if he had another orgasm in him but he didn’t care, even if he blacked out. why do you ask?? because soon he’ll be receiving the best aftercare known to man. cuddles, kisses, BACK SCRATCHES!!! he was as content as could be.

CALEB FANART! <3

3 more versions below the cut! (kisses, plain, valentines ver.)

and this one just for the art contest <3

kofi request :)

HELP ME HELP YOU — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. dick grayson !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : poison ivy has been flying under the radar and weaponizing her pollen to fellow criminals. it’s a shame you and dick find out the hard way.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader. dub-con bc of sex pollen (they’ve both been pining for each other tho), dry humping, slight exhibitionism, unprotected sex, oral (f + m receiving, 69, face sitting), cum eating, multiple orgasms, missionary, mating press, cowgirl, pet names (baby, pretty), praise, creampies, mentions of breeding, light impact play (slaps your thigh once), begging, mentions of sweat and saliva, slight overstimulation, almost pure smut tbh it’s just filth — WC : 6.1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : mind the tags !! i’ve been wanting to write a sex pollen fic for so long i’m so excited i finally did it ! enjoy !!

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

another drizzly night in gotham, filled with blaring police sirens and a heavy dose of crime. patrol was going as planned for the most part. apprehending a few criminals here and there, but nothing major. to dick, it was a semi-quiet night. one that left him reflecting on his life or rather, his recent choices.

truth be told, he had missed gotham. even though it wasn’t in a much better state when he had left, a large part of him knew he belonged here. bludhaven had been a good experience for him to try and break away, start his own thing. but when it came down to it, he missed it here. missed the people here, some more than others.

dick eventually got a tip from tim, stating that there were a couple of criminals causing a scene a few blocks down the road. he made it there quickly, only to run into you.

normally, it wasn’t a rare sight to see you out on patrol at the same time as him, but lately, it’s been harder to be around you. he knew he was developing feelings for you, no, he already had feelings for you. but it was all so confusing. the two of you had been friends for so long, since you were teenagers.

but then he left and you stayed. even though he’s been back for about a month, it still feels like he doesnt get to see enough of you. and when he’s finally around you, he just doesn’t know how to act anymore. 

“and here i thought you’d never show up, nightwing.” you tease, getting ready to apprehend the criminals that were trying to make their next move. he easily side stepped to get into a closer range to them, ready to bring them down with you. but truthfully, a large part of his focus wasn’t on them at all.

“you know i can never resist.” he smirks. the two of you start fighting off the criminals, landing quick, steady punches. 

“resist showing off, you mean.” you scoff, swinging your fist around, lodging it in one of the criminals' sides.

“ouch,” dick takes out one of his batons, twirling it around in his hand before using it against one of the enemies. “and here i was going to help you out of the goodness of my heart, my mistake.”

the two of you move in sync, your fighting styles mimicking each other as you attempt to take down the criminals. even though it’s been awhile, the two of you mesh well together just like old times.

“why don’t you sit back and watch how it’s done, boy wonder.” you drop down, palm hitting the pavement as you dodge an incoming attack. you use the momentum to sweep your feet under the apprehender, knocking him on his back. 

“i must’ve struck a nerve for you to use that nickname on me.” he smirked, trying to see how far he can crawl under your skin. the criminals were still trying to fight you both, but it was a cakewalk for him. he’d rather just stand around and tease you all night if he could.

“you’re always on my nerves.” you huff, pushing a villain off of you, watching them hobble backwards before you ready for another attack.

“gotta get your attention somehow, don’t i?” he hit one of the criminals in the gut, trying to swiftly take him down.

before you can retort, you hear something clink to the floor near dick before gas starts to surround it. you both pause, attention shifting on the strange device. the criminals use the momentary lapse to their advantage.

“that’ll keep them busy for awhile.” one of the criminals snicker as they make their escape. you take a step towards them but dick holds you back, his hand gripping onto you.

something felt like it was crawling up his spine, a heat that grew more the longer he touched you. 

“what are you doing?” you question him, ripping your arm from his hold. but then he realized, not touching you sent spikes of pain throughout his body, yearning for some sort of relief that he didn’t know how to get.

he tries to shake it off to focus on the task at hand, pressing against his ear piece, trying to contact tim.

“nightwing.” tim greets as he presses the button. dick crouches down to look at the device the criminals threw, your eyes tracking his movements with curiosity. “report?”

“looks like the criminals threw a toxin at us, i’m not sure what it is but it let out a puff of gas when it hit the ground. judging by the design of it i’d say,” dick pauses, eyes widening as he flips it over in the palm of his hand. a small, green plant painted onto the side of the device. “ivy.”

“alright, report back to the batcave. there’s been rumors that she’s been weaponizing her special pollen so we will have an antidote ready. did anyone else get hit? or are you alone?” tim replies, typing away on his keyboard.

dick looks over at you, holding your gaze for a moment. his mouth feels dry, words lodged in his throat as his body shivers. he tells tim he’s with you.

“dick, whatever you do, do not give into any urges, okay? christ, i didn’t know she’d be out on patrol too, she wasn’t even scheduled.” the frustration in his voice is tinged with anxiety and panic, knowing fully well the extent of getting hit by ivy’s pollen. “both of you get back here immediately. signing off.”

“affirmative.” dick nods, letting tim break the line for now. his eyes hadn’t left yours and he watched as you back up towards the wall behind you. he mirrors your movements, his thoughts growing hazier by the second. his more primal urges start to fight logic, a new battle unfolding in his mind.

he holds onto the wall, planting his back firmly against it as his hands form a fist. the sensation is back again, prickling under his skin like an itch he can’t scratch. it’s driving him mad, sweat starting to coat his body. everything was hot, searing. any self control he had was quickly slipping through his fingers, his heart racing out of his chest. 

even looking at you seems to make it worse, so he keeps his head against the wall, looking up at the dark sky as he tries to find the strength to move. he needs a plan, something to grasp and ground him to reality before he throws caution to the wind and takes you right here in this alleyway.

so he decides he just… won’t give in. that’s it, he’ll stay on this side of the wall while you stay on the other and then you go back to the cave and get the antidote. perfect.

“dickie.” or well, it would’ve been. his attention reluctantly goes over to you as you use his nickname, eyes burning trying to keep them on your face. but the way your voice sounded, the lilt of desperation packed into it had him curious. his eyes trail down your body, watching the way your chest heaves up and down, your thighs clenching together.

“yeah?” he swallows, eyes averting to the ground, his fingers curling deeper into his fist until he’s sure his nails are about to break the skin. 

“it hurts.” you all but whimper and his resolve cracks in half. it was always his dream to be your hero, to be someone you look up to and respect. being your knight in shining armor and eventually wooing you over one day. with the way your voice sounded, he needed to save you, do anything to make you feel better. seeing you in pain like this clawed at his heart, leaving his chest wide open. “please, i don’t know what to do.”

he’s never seen you look so helpless. you’ve always had an air of confidence about you whenever you put on your suit. you took being a hero seriously, one of the many things he admired about you. but this? he’s never seen you like this. and it stirred something within him.

he swallows thickly, trying to grab control of his thoughts once again, gripping onto logic even though the pollen was directly challenging it. one by one, another decent thought slips out of his hold and is instantly replaced with one that was much more improper. the kind of thoughts he’s tried his best to repress, especially when it comes to you.

“i know.” he says, tim’s word of caution fleeting from his mind. pressing himself off against the wall, he bounds over to you, finding himself directly in front of you, his palm pressed against the wall by your head. you gasp and it takes every last bit of him to not devour your sweet sounds. “fuck, we have to get back to the cave.”

your eyes flutter shut as his words breathe across your face, the raspy tone from his voice luring you in. 

“please.” you say again, the words barely above a whisper.

the rubber band snaps and the tension breaks, your bodies surging towards each other, clicking into place as your lips finally collide. the pollen saturating every nerve in your body, an overwhelming tsunami threatening to consume you and take him down with you.

but he wasn’t faring any better. his hands were shaking with need, his movements clumsy, not because they weren’t practiced, but because he had never needed anything more in his life.

he kisses you with a bruising force he usually reserves for when he fights, unable to hold himself back as the pollen dances throughout his veins chanting more, more, more.

visions invade his mind, betraying all the walls he’s so carefully put in place over the years. the amount of times he’s dreamed of having you, the amount of times he’s fisted his cock to the thought of you, was all coming to a burning point. if he didn’t have you now, it felt like his body would disintegrate. 

a groan rips from his throat, rumbling against your lips as he tries to devour you. his hands roam all over your body, almost kneading against every part of you to get a proper feel. but it wasn’t enough.

“have to feel you, please- need you closer.” he manages to choke out, his plump lips swollen with your passion, his dark blue eyes blown all the way out into a dark, stormy abyss. with a small nod of your head, he’s pushing you against the wall, slipping his thigh between your legs. he grinds against your hips, seeking out any sort of relief while also trying to provide you some.

the kiss is hardly graceful — teeth clashing against each other, trying to consume the other. there’s no fight for dominance, no careful hesitance, just pure unabridged desperation. he feels you reach for your mask, already trying to take off anything that serves as a barrier between you and him.

“f-fuck, wait, keep your mask on. we can’t-“ he didn’t finish the sentence as you rolled your hips against him instead, body jerking in his hold. somehow the gravity of the situation rings in his head for a moment. “shit, wait, we should talk about this, right?”

“we’re just helping each other out,” you gasp, kissing along his jaw. your fingers dig into his biceps, voice straining as you try to keep yourself together for a moment. “it hurts so much, i can’t stand it. help me and i’ll help you.”

“can’t say no to that logic.” he picks you up, pressing you against the wall as he presses his aching cock to your core. the relief it brought had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, gripping onto you tighter as his body reacts in a way it’s never done before.

he grinds against your clothed cunt, the fabric of your suits making it easier to hurriedly slide against each other. he wishes he could feel how tightly you’d wrap around him instead of this but he needed release now, and this was the quickest way to get it.

and you’re just as bad as him, bucking your hips against him to gain any sort of friction, your hands pawing all over his body.

“please-“ you whine in his ear, “stop teasing me, let me feel you.” your body felt on fire, something crackling just beneath the surface. the friction you were getting wasn’t enough, giving you pleasure but you also craved more.

“c-can’t.” he gasps, moving his hips faster as he feels a high coming on. “m’close.”

it was all building up deep within him, pleasure fighting pain and hurtling him towards the unknown. but he knew it would help, god, he knew anything with you would save him somehow.

his aching cock was still pressed up against the tight suit he had on, throbbing and pulsing as if it was trying to make its great escape. but the sound of your moan brought him back to the moment, the sweet mewl tumbling out of your lips as you reach your high. it sends him over the edge, cumming in his suit, hips stuttering against yours.

after a moment to catch your breath, you look at each other. the pain and fire are still as strong as ever, in fact, it might even be worse now. he needs to be inside you, feeling your warm walls hold onto him as he releases load after load deep within you.

“we need to-.” he pauses, breath hitching as you start rubbing against him again. the words die in his throat, no longer thinking of the batcave and the antidote. 

“i need more, please we can’t stop here.” you whine, looking up at him. whatever you were doing felt so good, feeding into the unstoppable desire that ignited in him. 

“we need to find somewhere to go.” he decides, holding onto you tightly.

“there’s a safehouse close by.” you suggest and suddenly it was like a veil was lifted. the fog cleared, and all he could see was you. your unfocused eyes, the way you pawed at him, he knew exactly what to do.

“i know the one, let’s go.” he grabs your hand, practically running down the street with you dragging behind him. but you manage to keep up with him. he’s relieved that no one is really out here, even though the night life was never tame in gotham, he considered it a small blessing that the streets were somewhat quiet tonight.

the safehouse was nestled in between a slew of apartments. he easily grabbed the key from under the mat and shoved the door open, the hinges yelling in protest. he all but pushes you inside, slamming the door shut and sealing you both in.

your body hits the door as soon as he closes it, his brute strength easily manhandling you into any position he wants. you were more than ready for it, wrapping your legs around his waist as your heels dig into his perfect ass, pulling him closer.

he groans as you roll your hips against his, trying to get closer to his straining cock. depravity takes over as you're practically humping against each other, shimming out of your suits. some part of you had to still be touching him —  your lips, your hands, anything.

finally, you’re both freed of your restricting clothing, ripping it down just enough so he could gain better access to you, barely caring that he was shredding your hero suit. but it didn’t seem like you minded either as your nails raked against his chest.

“you ready for me?” he fists his aching cock, throbbing and glistening with his cum. the tip was so red, you wondered if he was in any pain — or if it matched the same one you felt in between your thighs. 

“hurry, need you to-” you didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. 

dick slipped into you with one rough shove, filling you all the way up in one delicious motion. you gasp, throwing your head back into the door at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off of the wooden panel.

“sorry, baby.” his arm slips around your waist, his palm spreading along your back for support. “s’okay, you’re okay, yeah?”

he doesn’t move for a moment to try to let you adjust, his body practically screaming at him for waiting. but he felt so weak for you, couldn’t help but start rocking his hips. it didn’t take long for his urges to take over. 

his hands pushed down onto your waist, steadying himself so he could get deeper. the only thought that crossed his mind was how good you felt, how well you took him — and it only made him more determined to make you fall apart just like you were making him.

why had he waited so long to make a move? he could’ve done this sooner, years ago. it pissed him off, frustrated he’s gone so long without knowing how good your cunt felt wrapped around his cock. the anger only intensifies his thrusts, the door rattling behind you in protest.

“s-slow down!” you cry out, not really thinking of what you were saying. the last thing you wanted was for him to slow down, but everything felt so fast, so overwhelming that your brain couldn’t keep up with it.

“that’s not what you really want.” he grunts out, lips latching onto your neck. he needed to leave little marks on you. a reminder for him that this is really happening, that this is real. he’s finally fucking you. “you’re so tight, you feel so good f’me.”

“all for you, only for you.” you start to babble, drunk off the sensation he‘s feeding you. your legs wrap tighter around his waist, driving him deeper than he already was. his pace stutters for a second, his release already sneaking up on him. “ah- m’already close!”

“me too, baby.” he breathes, his voice raspier than you’ve ever heard it. “please let me cum inside, need to fill you up and breed this pretty pussy.”

you clench around his words, nodding your head profusely, body tightening as electricity shoots through your body as you cum around his cock. your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues to thrust into you, desperately chasing his own release.

“yes, yes, need it, please!” you moan, practically milking his cock. once you give him the okay, he drives as deep as he can and lets out a broken moan as he fills you up.

“shit.” he grunts out, his breathing far out of his control. he lowers you down, letting you land on your feet. but you can hardly stand, his grip tight on your elbows to keep you upright. the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, trying to process what just happened, what’s currently happening. intense need swarms his mind again and pain spreads throughout his body with every passing second he isn’t inside of you.

instinctively, you drop to your knees, your hand lightly grasping around his slick base. dick lets out a hiss of pleasure, tossing his head back as he feels the slight essence of reprieve. 

“need you in my mouth,” you look up at him, slowly pumping his cock. he twitches in your hand with interest, the sex pollen still sending his body into overdrive. he doesn’t even feel overstimulation, all he feels is lust and the overwhelming need to wreck you.

“go ahead, baby.” you wrap your lips around his cock, hollowing out your cheeks as you get right to work. his eyes roll back and he needs to grip onto the back of your head for support — otherwise he’d fall backwards. “damn, knew you’d be good at this, always running your sweet little mouth whenever you’re around me. feels like heaven.”

you hum in approval, the sensation tickling his tip. you take him in deeper, your hands grabbing onto his ass for support.

“fuck, baby.” he mutters under his breath. normally, you probably wouldn’t have heard it, but the pollen heightened all of your senses when it came to him. his voice sounded so raspy, so desperate, it had you squeezing your thighs together. “please don’t tease me right now or i’ll fuck you against the wall again.”

so you don’t, swallowing his whole length, your pretty eyes filling up with tears as you look up at him. he feels like he’s going to pass out — his head is fuzzy, his thighs are trembling, you have him under your spell and a primitive part of him is screaming at him to fix it.

“i’m gonna cum.” he moans, gripping your hair. he almost lets himself, but it wouldn’t feel fair. he needed you to cum with him. the two of you were in this together. he pushes you off of him, regret already swarming his body as the pollen viciously attacks him again.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, wiping the spit that was pooling in the corner of your mouth. he picked you up, bringing you over to the couch.

“i have to taste you.” he tosses you on the couch, “so you’re gonna sit on my face.”

the way he said it doesn’t leave any room for argument so for once, you listen to him. watching as he sits next to you on the couch. your bodies pivot so he’s laying down instead of you, an eager smile on his face. 

you climb on top of him, going to move your hips over his eagerly awaiting mouth. but he’s impatient, the need to taste you on his tongue is too great. hastily grabbing your hips, he pulls you down on his face. you yelp in surprise, nails digging into his abs to ground yourself. he doesn’t waste a second, diving into the delicious meal you’ve presented him.

even without you touching him, he started to feel his own relief by swirling his tongue around your clit. his hips thrust in the air, unable to control himself. your moans and small gasps of pleasure fuel him to keep going, not planning on stopping until he’s gotten his fill.

he groans into your cunt as you start to take his leaking cock in your warm hands, focusing on his tip. you lean over his body as he holds you firmly in place so you can pull him back in your mouth, engulfing him in an instant.

his hips involuntary jerks up, pushing himself deeper and eliciting a gag from you. he would feel bad but with the way you gushed around his tongue told him otherwise.

“god, you taste incredible.” he mumbles, making sure he’s not missing a drop. but honestly, it’s too much. your slick mixed with his cum has his mind spiraling — the taste settling on his tongue, nestling deep into his senses.

it was all a haze, trying to devour every drop of you, gripping onto your thighs so tightly that if he was thinking more clearly, he might feel bad. but the way your tongue wraps around his cock, your throat enveloping it all the way down, leaves him with very little coherent thoughts.

but he couldn’t stop lapping at your cunt, every tremble, every moan, every taste of you has him wanting more and he knew that this wouldn’t be enough — it might never be enough. you’ve created an insatiable beast that only craves your touch.

“dick, i’m gonna cum-.” you take a gulp of air, using your hand to furiously pump his cock, fingers dancing around his tip as you usher out your words. a flare of pride spikes up with him and shoots throughout his body, his hand getting away from him as he encouragingly slaps against your thigh.

“please, baby. come all over my face.” he knows he sounds wrecked but he doesn’t care. he gets back to work, suckling on your clit more intently than before. your mewls vibrate along his length and he can’t help but thrust into your mouth a little, overly excited at the prospect of you releasing all over him. 

he helps you ride his face, guiding your movements by his grip on your thighs. with a cry of his name, you cum again, gushing all over him. at this point, he could die a happy man, cleaning you up as your thighs shake in his palms.

he’s not sure if it was your skilled mouth, your messy cunt, or the fact he managed to pull that strong of an orgasm from you — but he came in your hand that was still rubbing at his tip.

“f-fuuuuuck.” he moans out, hips jerking in your hold. after a few minutes, he feels you slide off of his face, pivoting yourself and sitting on the couch, head hanging off the back of it.

it had to be over, right? all of the pollen should be out of your systems. he sat up and mirrored your movements, looking over at you to see how you were faring. and you were already looking over at him, half lidded eyes as you were catching your breath. your skin was glistening in sweat, much like his own.

the itch creeped up his neck, sending chills over his body. it definitely wasn’t done and the agony of not touching you anymore was starting to get to his head. he lunges over to you, pinning you on the couch as he lines up his cock once again.

“god, i need to have you.” he breathes, searching your eyes to see if you feel as messed up as he does.

“you’ve got me.” you mewl before looking up and adding, “you’ve always had me.”

“really?” disbelief coats his words, somehow managing to pause his motions even though his body is screaming at him. the fire inside of him is licking at the tightly wound coil within him, but somehow he’s able to push it down — even if it’s just for a moment. but he needs to hear this, needs to hear you.

“i’ve-” you start squirming under him, no doubt feeling that same fire he did. he almost felt a little bad by delaying your gratification but god, he really needs this. he can’t tell if the tears forming in your eyes are from the pollen or from the emotion that’s been building up after all these years.  “i’ve always loved you dick.”

his hormones fly out of control, his hold tightening against you. every nerve in his body tells him to move but he’s somehow frozen, transfixed on your confession. 

“i love you so much.” he manages to choke out, desire boiling in his gut once again, fueled by the sweet words he’s been dying to hear from you. it was too much, the overwhelming itch consuming him once again as “fuck, ‘m sorry, need to-.”

he doesn’t finish the sentence, instead he’s plunging into your warm, welcoming walls. fitting together like a puzzle piece that was always destined to connect. the pollen swirls with the love shared between you two and he can’t help but ruthlessly drive into you, relishing in your sharp cries of pleasure.  

his cock slips out of you, exasperated groans both leaving your lips and into each others mouth. he reluctantly pulls apart from you, shoving himself back where he belongs before he resumes his pace.

“dick, more-.”

something shatters within him. he couldn’t say it was self control — that had long been gone. but something else deep within him broke by your hands and yet, he could already feel you mending it back up.

there’s no way to tell the passage of time, but none of that mattered to him anyway. all he could do was revel in the warmth of your soft, silken walls. his eyes scan over your face, taking in your blissed out state no doubt mirroring his own.

it had him wanting — craving more. like a man starved who had his first bite, who wouldn’t be sated until he had his fill.

dick’s movements were even faster now that his body could hardly keep up. his cock slipped out of you again, and he let out a strangled sob.

everything was just so wet, both of your bodies coated in a mixture of sweat, spit and cum. he felt your slick coat his thighs, your saliva mark his neck — every inch of his skin is completely covered by your essence.

he drives himself back into you, humping against you as he chases another release. everything was burning up the longer he staved off. at this point, he needed to keep filling you up. you made it so easy for him too, greedily sucking him back in every thrust, squeezing around him so tightly his head was spinning.

driven by pure instinct, he pushes your thighs against your chest, pushing himself deeper into you. 

“wanna take my time with you s’badly.” he rasps out, hands pushing against your legs. “but you just feel s’good i can’t stop.”

his mouth hung open as unsteady breaths left his lungs, trying to gulp up any air he could. but he’d much rather breathe in the sight below him, watching you sprawled out for him, sucking him into your pretty cunt has his mind short circuiting.

“you take me so well, you’re so good to me.” he babbles, eyes squeezed shut for a moment to soak it all in. “you were made f’me.”

his head falls forward and he feels a bead of sweat drop down the side of his face. your trained eye watched it fall, before you lean up and lick it clean off of him. he gasps in surprise, lips chasing yours once again.  

at this point, you really couldn’t call it kissing. your lips were pressed against each other but neither of you could move them properly. just unsteady breaths and moans keeping the two of you connected as pleasure overrides your senses.

arousal pours like gasoline beneath his abdomen, your pleas serving as a match to ignite his body into flames. the pollen warps his mind, drunk on your taste and only craving more of it. 

but he needed you to cum first. he was still trying his best to help you, to relieve you of any pain. he doesn’t know how long it’ll take but he needs you to at least cum as much as he does. 

“oh god, oh, it’s never, fuck, felt like this before, so good-“ you moan out, arching your back up so he can get deeper. 

“i know baby, i know.” he keeps going, harder than he had before. “you’re so, so good to me.”

it was all too much for you, clinging onto him as he relentlessly thrusts into you. he watches as your body freezes in his grasp, bliss saturating all your features, before you forcefully come around his cock.

he wasn’t much further behind, gripping the back of the couch and pushing his hips flush against yours as he fills you up once again. 

the pollen was still tingling in his system, he could feel it. but he felt so drowsy, and he knew you were too. he presses his forehead against yours as your legs fall helplessly by his sides.

“you okay?” he can hardly recognize his own voice.

“mhm, you?” you ask, your eyes fluttering shut for a second. he sees your face constrict with pain and he knows you feel what he feels. it’s not over yet.

“can you handle another round?” he asks, gently caressing your cheek, wiping off what was either sweat or tears. it took so much not to jump you, but the desire was starting to lessen and becoming easier to control, but that didn’t change the fact he was still so damn weak around you. one more round would soothe it all, he can feel it.

“can you?” you laugh breathlessly, always trying to challenge him. a lazy smirk takes up his face as he adjusts you, sitting back against the couch and pulling you up into his lap. his fingers rub little circles along your hips before he digs his fingers in.

“since you’re so confident, why don’t you show me how it’s done.” he meant to sound cocky, but his voice came out twisted with need and desperation.

“with pleasure.” you grab a hold of his still hard cock, lining it up with your sopping entrance, cum from the previous rounds dripping down your thigh. he can’t help but swipe some on his finger, playing with the slightly sticky substance.

you slide down on his cock, moaning the entire way down. all he can do is look up at you, unconsciously sliding the two coated fingers in your open mouth.

you swirl your tongue around them, sucking them clean as well as you were sucking him off earlier. he moans, head hitting the back of the couch as you start rolling your hips.

“you’re so pretty — fuck — i mean, just look at you.” he slurs, eyes glued to where you were connected. his fingers leave your mouth, sliding down your body. “you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen.”

your nails dig into his shoulders, using it as leverage to grind yourself more in his lap, his neatly trimmed pubic hair brushing along your swollen clit.

he slumps back a bit, letting you take control and take what you need. mesmerized by the way your tits jiggle with each movement, he wraps his tongue around your nipple before giving it a sloppy, open mouthed kiss.

he was lazy with his movements, swirling his tongue around the perked bud and nuzzling his face against it. the more he touches them, the more he needs to. 

your hips drag along his, bodies pressed together as it feels like lead fills your bones. but you can’t stop moving against him.

“want you to be mine.” he moans against your tits, thrusting up into you more as he feels himself getting close. all he needs to hear is your confirmation that you’ll finally be his. “say you’ll be mine.” 

“m’yours!” your cry out at the increase of pace, fingers digging into his hair as he leaves his mark all over your breasts. “i’m all yours.”

with one final groan, his hips jerk up a few times, releasing another load into your already overflowing cunt. the grip on your hips loosen as his forehead lands on your shoulder, wincing as you keep going to chase your release. overstimulation was starting to creep up on him as the pollen started to clear out of his system. but he didn’t care, he’d keep going as long as you need him to.

“c’mon baby.” he slurs, leaving open mouthed kisses along your collarbone before looking up at you like you summon the sun every morning, beaconing it with your radiant, blissed out smile. “you’re doing s’good for me, give me another one c’mon.”

“cant, i’m trying but i need more.” you move your hips a little faster with a whine of his name tumbling from your lips.

“i’m right here, fuck baby, let go f’me. you’ll feel so much better i promise.” his fingers slip in between your bodies, thumb pressing firmly against your clit as you keep riding him. it sends you over the edge, gripping onto his shoulders and tossing your head back. he’s never seen a more ethereal view and if he could’ve, he would’ve cum all over again at the sight alone.

he doesn’t move his thumb as you ride out your high, squirming around in his lap as pleasure courses throughout your body. he lets go after you start twitching in his grasp, showing you mercy for the first time tonight.

you collapse into a heap on his chest, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. he feels you curl into him, exhaustion starting to take you. he’s still nestled inside of you, with no desire to move. 

he blinks a few times, starting to take in his surroundings. you guys definitely messed up the couch. anyone who passes through this safehouse will see the traces you two left behind for weeks to come. the thought makes him smirk a little bit.

his phone buzzes and somewhere deep in his fucked out mind he realizes he should check. he’s still technically on patrol. with one arm still securing tucked around you, he uses the other to grab his phone.

everything is a little blurry, the fog still clouding his mind, his eyes drooping as he tries to read it. your soft snores start to fill his ears as he opens the text from tim, reading the line over and over a few times in hopes of processing it better. but then he gets it — clear as day. it was from tim.

“let me guess. you stopped at a safehouse.”

another text.

“have fun explaining this one to bruce.”

taglist : @the-tenth-shadow @petriquors @boogiebooboo @lucifersidepiece @oikawabi-sabi @collin-thegreat ᰔ

Goth Family sticker set ⚔️🦅👻