Latest Posts by neogogori - Page 4

wholesome autumn kageyama and hinata <3

Based on this tweet!!

accidentally drew this on too small of a canvas but oh well!!

BABY TRIO

Y’all don’t make use of subtle/weird traits in fics enough.

Dudes—

Bakugou literally has hyperhidrosis. Make him switch shirts constantly, or constantly wiping his hands, or outright refusing to touch things because nitroglycerin is a volatile substance.

Midoriya is constantly chewing on his lips or thumb while in thought. Either his lips are SO chapped or he’s a skin picker and the skin around his finger tips are super rough.

Uraraka is a poor kid. She would absolutely have some kind of financial anxiety. Make her be extremely frugal OOOORRR BETTER YET make her absolutely awful with money.

Aizawa is a hypersomniac. Give the man a nightmare disorder or something. We can be more imaginative than just always kinda tired.

Kirishima has/had really bad quirk envy. Please I need to see this addressed more. Even at the best hero school, in the top class, he talks down on his quirk.

Todoroki really doesn’t think very much. He acts quickly but very thoughtlessly. Coming to incorrect conclusions and moving too fast without knowing what to do next.

kofi request :)

*holds your hand * *holds your hand* *holds your hand* *holds y-*

post-war togachaco <3 i like to think that toga grows her hair out because she gets a girlfriend who likes taking care of it :)

I keep drawing them

1-2 , 3, 4

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

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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.

im desperate to find an oneshot i loved but I CNAT FIND IT OMG im going to pull all my hair to the point i become bald

𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 (pt. 2) — 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

playlist pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7 pt. 8 (10/24)

𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘤 — 14.5𝘬

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵!𝘢𝘶, 141𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨!𝘢𝘶, 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 (10𝘺𝘳𝘴), 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 & 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘢 (nothing too graphic but please be warned!!), 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢, 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬

note: it's here 🤲 header gunslinger ghost render by @ave661

the next morning you woke, Ghost was gone again, much to your chagrin. you were beginning to pick up on a pattern—a strong tendency to disappear without a trace. his clothes were absent from your room and the kitchen table, where you haphazardly undressed him without thinking about the evidence left behind for an unsuspecting one-four-one and Kate to see. 

the only trace of Ghost’s presence in your room last night was the neat pile of undergarments and clothes on the ottoman nestled in the corner of the room. after washing up, you slowly redressed that morning. in the mirror, your neck was covered in swollen purple patches—a parallel image to the softness of your bruised inner thighs. you were lucky enough to have been lent a high-collared blouse from Kate, mulling over everything with a bitter distaste in your mouth. 

it only grew when you stepped into the back room, Soap looking positively smug and Gaz avoiding your eyes. John looked undisturbed as he paged through a book, sipping at his coffee mug with his boot neatly crossed over the other beneath the kitchen table.

“good morning,” Soap sang, practically skipping to you and handing you a sticky, cinnamon bun, rolled up in a sweet delight.

“thank you,” you said with a polite dip of your head, sitting beside John at the table.

“you know, Gaz,” Soap said suddenly, turning to his friend who only paled in response, his face looking sour. “i could’ve sworn i heard something last night—”

you withered with shame, but luckily, Gaz kicked him hard in the shin to shut him up. immediately they began to bicker, and John only gave a disapproving grunt.

“where’s Kate?” you asked, meek, and desperate to escape the three men in the room. 

John jerked his head in the direction of the main store room, and you whispered a quick thank you to him, wiping the last crumbs on the back of your split skirt rudely before making a beeline out the room.

Kate was tending to the shop, lounging behind the counter as two customers perused the catalog. she was stitching together pieces of leather with a wax thread and needle. 

you carefully noted the absence of Ghost in the store room as well, but didn’t comment on it when she shot you a fleeting, knowing look. it was gone as soon as it came and yet it made you burn with shame nonetheless.

“Ghost is out on business again,” she explained, sewing with a practiced hand, and you frowned.

“I wasn't…” the words died in your throat. instead, you implored, “let me join one-four-one today.”

she paused her ministrations and sent you a look of grief. “why? so you can run away?”

that irked you. “you know i won’t.” in a meek voice, you added, “where would i even run too?”

she shrugged, returning to her leather pieces. “i don’t know. maybe off into your own rich glory.”

you resisted rolling your eyes. smoothing the front of your split skirt, you folded your hands politely, posture straightening.

“are you really going to ransom me to my daddy?” you challenged, and her hands paused

“because if you are, i know your secret base of operations. i know all your names, one-four-one’s, and Simon’s. i know what one-four-one looks like and that you’re working with los vaqueros.” 

her eyes narrowed, brow pinching.

you continued. “i think all that information would come very handy for Turner and my daddy.”

“so what are you going to do?” she snapped, “run straight to Turner and cry at your daddy’s feet?”

“no,” you said cooly, “i think you don’t plan on giving me back to my daddy at all.”

her eyes flashed and you contented with her glare, meeting it with the strongest one you could muster.

“because if you did plan on it, i’d tell them all that and more in a heartbeat. so why’d you let me in on all that information in the first place?”

taking a shaky inhale, you hoped to god you were right. “i know too much. i think you’re planning something else for me.”

she stared at you for a long moment before heaving a long sigh, screwing her eyes shut, surprising you when her mouth twisted into a tight-lipped grin, her blue eyes crinkled with a wild look.

“Ghost said you were a smart girl.”

she returned back to the leather work, finishing off the needlework by snapping the string with her teeth, pulling it taught with a knot.

“but no,” she said with finality, and you balked.

“no…?”

“let’s say that maybe Ghost is planning something for you. something big,” she dramatized with a mocking smirk. “you’re still our hostage. you stay here, the boys ride out. simple.”

she shot you a displeased look when she finished. “if you weren’t here, i’d be riding out too.”

you swallowed, shoulders falling slowly. all that pent up energy deflated from you like a balloon, defeat curling in your stomach. looking out the front store windows, you saw Sugar dozing at her fence post. you eyed her saddle on a rack behind the store counter. 

nodding, like you were deep in thought, you stepped away from the counter. “right,” was all you offered and she gave you a mixed look of pity and irritation. 

as if on queue, the one-four-one boys clambered from the back room, murmuring low words to Kate so that you couldn’t hear. Soap tipped his hat to you on the way out, and he began to turn away when you clutched at his elbow. 

“where are you going?” you asked, casual, and his brows raised, looking from you to John to Kate.

after a long look, she just gave him a slight nod.

“five miles north. ‘nother nearby town,” he relented with a shrug, and the way his lips tightened let you know he was leaving something else out. you cocked his head at him, pressing with curious eyes, and his mouth fell open but Gaz grabbed him by the back of his collar and pulled him out the store, Soap shouting in protest.

“be back before sunset,” John said, gruff, closing the door behind them with a resounding thud. 

you watched as they saddled up in the bright noon light. Kate sighed. the look on her face let you know she was lamenting just as much about their departing as you.

you lazed about the main store room, eyes flicking between the leather crafts items. belts, wallets, holsters, a few couple saddles. the clicking of the wooden clock suspended on the opposite wall served as your entertainment for the afternoon.

when Kate finally excused herself to close the shop for a lunch break, washing up first, you knew you had to make quick haste. sneaking down the hallway, you passed by the bathroom as quietly as you could, you were surprised to find the basement door unlocked.

maybe they did trust you, a small voice spoke in wonder, but you mentally swatted it away. your desire to find out what the hell was going on burned brighter than anything else.

you descended quickly down the stairs, wincing at every creak and thud, till your feet met cobblestone. sweeping around in the darkness, you pulled out the matches you pocketed last night. lighting one with a quick stroke, the room lit up in a warm orange glow and you scrutinized the place.

in one main room, preserves of fruits and veggies, miscellaneous barrels, and leather working stations littered with various tools and supplies crowded the room. you could only assume the doors branching from the main room were one-four-one’s bedrooms, and you confirmed as much when you tried turning the knob of each one, finding them all firmly locked.

cursing, you wished you could remember that lock picking trick Tommy used at the schoolhouse to prank teachers in your childhood. you clambered through the space, squeezing between a nook of filled shelves, pausing when an old bookcase caught your eye. by it was a small circlet of space, several chairs, and a desk sprawling with papers. you walked to it, hand smoothing over the map littered with marks, lines, needles shoved into the wood at certain locations.

the writings made no sense, all in their own code. a large portion was circled in red with a big T scribbled in the middle. you squinted. Turner, most likely.

it was north of the town you were currently in, or so you assumed by the small star bead shaped from an ivory bone pinned down on the map. like Ghost said, you were on the border of southern california, your mama and daddy most likely twenty miles to the east in Arizona. below southern california lay another red circled portion, dipping into mexico and southern texas. LV, it read, in a smaller, less menacing font. los vaqueros.

blue circles stretched from the west to the east, centered around towns and cities, big and small. one location in particular was familiar—jackson county, missouri. all that blue, stretching from california to louisiana, was one-four-one territory. you balked at the physical size of it.

the more passing seconds you took to study the map, the more you worried Kate may emerge from the restroom and find you snooping in their basement. if she did, you dreaded the thought of being locked up in your room for the remainder of your possibly indefinite stay.

a piece of paper caught your eye. it was a letter addressed to Turner from your… your daddy. you poured over the note, running over the quill grooves in your hands.

Mr. T,

my darling belle has been stolen by the devil. you promised me that working with you meant no harm to my family. i want her back. i don’t want no man getting the idea that they can steal my things from me.

you shuddered. his things, he had called you.

i want your men on every one of one-four-one’s outposts. none of their towns will be safe. i’ll round up my men and join the effort in two weeks time after we conjoin at the social. there, we can talk finances.

your eyes ran over the line again. social?

if Ghost won’t give me my daughter, i’ll make him.

your daddy didn’t sign off the letter. carefully, you put it back down in its place. how did the letter even get there in the first place? had Ghost intercepted its messenger during a shootout in a northern town?

you swallowed. did Ghost find it in your own daddy’s house? your house?

the thought of your daddy, keeled over his desk with a bullet wound in his temple, blood oozing out in a puddle as Ghost loomed overhead, pocketing Daddy’s letter in his trench coat, made you sick to your stomach. 

you thought of what Ghost said the night prior. i searched half the plains for your horse.

did that include your daddy and mama’s house? your breath hitched. was your mama alright?

you steadied yourself against the nearby bookshelf, distracting yourself with its contents instead. fictional literature stared back at you, and you brushed your fingers down their spines in a slow descent until you met the very bottom row. a line of small journals, so small you could squeeze them into the extra space in your pocket, stared back at you. picking one on the very edge, your eyes widened at the title scrawled over it. 

GHOST.

you opened it to its latest entry, dating back to the day you were taken by Ghost. in all capital letters it read:

PICKED UP GIRL FROM ARIZONA HOMESTEAD.

beneath it was a sketch of your profile and… numbers. there wasn’t an exact order or sense of them but they littered the page.

despite the numerical mystery, you found your eyes lingering on the catch of light conveyed through Ghost’s drawing, the twinkle in your eyes and the barest smile on your lips. you admired the attention to detail before flipping through to earlier pages.

a familiar, blaring title stuck out to you that dated back several weeks ago.

PICK UP GIRL FROM ARIZONA HOMESTEAD.

there was more writing below it.

RANSOM: $25,000 REFUSAL → PHASE TWO

you flipped to the page after it to find another entry on a typical grocery list. you thumbed through more pages with a frustrated huff, finding nothing more on phase two or a ransom. just more sketches of wildlife, horses, and scribbled dull paragraphs on irrelevant business investments.

you mulled over the strange entry and its date from weeks prior. the night Ghost had taken you had been an arranged dinner out of the blue with only a few days of notice. but the date of this entry suggested that Ghost had been arranging the dinner for much longer. 

more than that, Ghost had forced your daddy to make a decision at the dinner table—pay up or let Ghost steal his daughter as collateral.

Ghost didn’t necessarily know that your daddy would go with the latter. but the entry already had a resolute ransom for your safe return, and a phase two plan for when your daddy refused the ransom. which, to your knowledge, has not happened yet.

in spite of your confusion, there was a relief knowing that your suspicions from the conversation with Kate earlier had been confirmed. they wouldn’t be giving you back to your daddy.

right?

quickly, you pocketed it, hoping no one noticed its absence as you weaved out the basement and up the stairs. the door was still shut as you left it, and you blew out the match, slowly opening the door, your heart hammering. there was a silence on the upper floor, a warm draft passing through the narrow hallway, blinding light streaming in through the windows.

you noticed movement beneath the bathroom door, and let out a shaky breath. what felt like hours in the basement was only minutes.

but you knew you didn’t have much time left.

you made your way down the hallway and into the main store room. hooking Sugar’s saddle over your forearm, you made a quick haste to your horse who lazily drank at the water basin by the fence. patting her shoulder, you saddled her up in record time, hitching the cinch tightly with the grind of your teeth. untying the reins, you grabbed the horn, hoisting yourself up by the stirrup.

as you backed Sugar away from the leather crafts store, you heard Kate shout, your head whipping to see her already moving with a terrifying speed to her own horse, a burly and strong looking thoroughbred that snorted heavily.

with a slap of your reigns against Sugar’s shoulder, and your heel digging into her flank, she took off with a pitched whiny. you always thought she was a crazy wild thing, but you were more glad for it now than ever.

the rush of the wind at your face didn’t help the scramble through your mind for the mental image of the town. the bell tower pointed to the north—head on a swivel, you pressed a hand on your stetson to keep it from flying away. conveniently, the thing chimed, making it known it was two hours past noon to the town

you pulled sharp on Sugar’s reigns, spurring her on through the sparse crowd that scurried out of your way as you headed straight for the tower, and out the town. the cobblestone path underfoot quickly fell into a dusty dirt and you headed dead on into the forest.

weaving between the sparse trees, ducking beneath them, and wincing when some prickly pines brushed at the exposed skin on your cheeks, you steadied on for a gallop for as long as you could muster before you were sure Sugar needed a break.

when you slowed to a standstill, listening for the breaking of a horse through bushes and leaves, met only with chirping and the rush of the forest, you nudged Sugar to walk on.

she hung her head low, winded, and you rubbed at her neck in comfort. 

Soap had said the town was five miles north. your eyes sweeping across the barren terrain, you hoped that you wouldn’t come across a different town five miles north of one-four-one’s hidden base.

after another thirty minutes of short gallops, followed by slower canters and trots, you eventually wandered far enough to spot a town on the distance of the horizon.

you startled when a big boom resounded across the land, shaking the earth beneath you. something—a building maybe—that spearheaded the sky fell with a crash. Sugar whinied wildly, stuttering backwards with jerky movements, but you urged her on ahead with clucks and a heeled boot at her flank.

you rode fast to the town, swerving around the masses of people running around it. a woman, tugging on her floral, broad brimmed hat, carried two children under her arms and ran into the woods with next to nothing. some men rode out on horses, charging ahead without a glance back. 

as you neared the outer wall of the town, you could hear the ricocheting gunshots, loud shouting, screaming, crying, the beating of horse hooves.

you cursed yourself for not thinking to grab a firearm. trotting along the wall, between a stretch of two buildings a man rode past in a flying gallop, twisted back to shoot at something—someone riding after him. you recognized his raucous, wild laughter.

Soap.

you spurred Sugar forward, creeping through a break in the walls where more townspeople leaked out in a panic. on the main dirt pathway, a horse tied to its fencepost tossed its head wildly. a revolver flashed in its saddlebag.

riding around the building, narrowly avoiding running people underfoot, you flanked the horse and pulled the revolver from the horse, then leaned down to untie the poor, squirming thing so it wasn’t in the line of fire. you grit your teeth, trying to mentally will your own horse from wriggling so much. once its reins were pulled loose, the horse bucked and made a beeline for the woods.

“hey!” an older man, beard flecked with gray, ran at your horse with a wobbling, drunk ire. the owner, you presumed, by the gun he was loading in his hand.

pressing hard into Sugar’s flank, she sidestepped him and you took the butt of your newfound revolver, jamming it into his jaw hard. he slumped to the ground ungraciously.

turning your horse in a fast pan, you rode from street to street, revolver swinging as you searched for familiar faces. it was a dizzying panic. you didn’t know who was who, or what was what, in the mass alarm. 

“that’s her!” whipping your head over your shoulder, a group of men sharply turned their horses in your direction. Turner’s men.

cursing, you spurred Sugar on in a wild gallop as they pursued you.

you checked the cylinder of it—it was only half full. three bullets. cursing yourself over and over again, you gave them a wild chase, weaving between buildings and people into a marketplace. a cart of vegetables went flying as Sugar lurched, last second, to leap over it.

the movement jerked you, and you slipped to the side, world turning over as you fell to the dirt and skidded a good ten feet, knocking back into another cart. your revolver lay discarded a short length away, stetson thrown somewhere else.

Sugar galloped off without a second to look back.

scrambling to pick up the revolver as the group of Turner’s men approached fast on horseback, you gasped when your ankle completely gave out on you, falling once more to the ground. the adrenaline pumping through your veins didn’t give you a second to hesitate, crawling forward to grab the gun.

you shot into the group blindly, satisfied when one man shrieked, holding his arm where crimson poured, and slipped off the side of his horse. picking yourself up, you limp as fast your could leg could let you move down a branching dirt path, thunderous hooves coming from behind you. 

you checked over your shoulder. they were dangerously close now.

the closest man’s hand—a turquoise bracelet glinting on his wrist—came down and swooped for your hair, missing when you ducked. but he groped for a hold on your clothes, when suddenly, he crumpled into the dirt behind you. blood splattered across your back, and you bit back a scream when a strong arm hefted you up onto their moving horse.

“i got you, darlin’,” John gritted out, and you clambered into the front of his saddle, clutching desperately at the mane of his chestnut mare as he spurred his horse on faster through the streets with one arm around your waist.

a rider approached your right flank, trying to maneuver close enough to shoot John and not you, but John was too fast and blew his head clean off. you couldn’t suppress the scream that tore from your throat. 

John barked over the roar of the wind. “i’m gonna need you to cover my blindspots, eh?” 

you nodded rapidly, panning your revolver over your shoulder as another rider neared.

“deep breath,” he commanded, swerving his mare to get out of range, bullets whizzing past your head.

you took a deep breath, watching the rider edge closer to your left as he slapped the reins against his horse’s shoulder, willing it to go faster. his eyes blew wide when you caught a glimpse of his gaze under the brim of his stetson, mouth parting in shock when you fired.

the bullet hit his chest dead on, and you watched in horror as his eyes went cold and empty, whole body slack as his shoulder crumbled forward in the saddle of his horse, before slowly slipping off the side and falling to the ground with a crash. his horse thundered on without him, blood soaking the dirt in a crimson halo around the corpse.

“good bloody shot!” John roared in your ear, and you turned your attention front again. the roads were emptier now with the stragglers having evacuated the town.

John slowed as he neared the town’s center square, and one man on a grulla and the other on a bay circled the fountain square in a pan, shooting at the men who came barreling down each pathway. each one dropped like a fly.

you counted about a dozen bodies on the floor of the square.

the man on the grulla laughed maniacally, who you instantly recognized as Soap. the other rode with a tight rein with a mechanic movement.

John pulled his horse to a sliding halt, almost making you fly over the shoulder of his chestnut if it weren’t for the arm around your waist.

“picked up a straggler!” he shouted, turning into the fray as another trio of Turner’s men came down an alleyway on horseback.

Soap flanked your horse, shooting two of Turner’s men down as John finished off the other. flies were whirling around the dead bodies on the ground. you wanted to puke.

“first time gunslingin’?” Soap asked, a poisonous glint in his steel eyes.

you didn’t have time to respond because Gaz was shouting— “your left!”

John was whirled, but not in enough time before two bullets hit his chestnut with sickening thuds. she whinied, rearing, and for a second time, you were sliding to the dirt, ungracefully landing on top of John in a winded pile.

you scrambled off him and he crawled to his knees as he reloaded his revolver. your own was thrown somewhere away—obscured from view as a couple of Turner’s men slid off their horses, striding towards you at a dangerous pace.

head on a swivel, you scurried backwards, a low throb in your ankle blooming. the adrenaline was wearing off as a thickening dread seized you. Gaz and Soap were occupied, grappling a thickening trickle of Turner’s men into the town square.

a man with a gold tooth, you recognized as an affiliate of the man with the turquoise bracelet from a few minutes prior, swung his leg back and kicked John straight across his cheek.

two other men seized you by the front of your blouse to hoist you up, but you kicked and screamed, biting down hard on a hand that came to pull on your hair. he cursed, throwing you back down into the dirt, and you skidded till your back struck something hard. 

eyes widening, you twised your arm behind you to feel a familiar, cool handle. this time, you let them yank you up, letting the revolver fall into the loose cuff of your loose sleeve and holding it there.

the man with the gold tooth gripped your cheeks tightly and spat at your feet. his breath was grimy, alcoholic, and made your skin crawl.

“you’ve been giving us a hell of a time, angel.” his other hand stroked down your chest.

you twisted to bite his fingers and he slapped you, the strong sting bringing tears to your eyes. the two men were holding your arms back in a bind, one pressing his front into your shoulder, mouth almost to your ear.

“he’ll kill you,” you seethed, dead serious. the man with the gold tooth laughed.

“so you really are the devil’s angel?” he leaned back, hands on his holster, a menacing look twisting his lips. “thought Mr. Tuner was bein’ dramatic. looks like Ghost’s got a pretty missy now.”

the man by your ear chuckled, hot breath down your neck and you reeled, fighting against him.

“i’ll kill you myself if i have to,” you hissed, both to the man in front of you and to the one digging his hand into your backside, squeezing.

the third man sounded considerably younger, more nervous. “whadda’ we do with her, Charles?”

your eyes went wide. you remembered the man at the cabin, the one who said—

let’s move quick. Turner said the first man to lay hands on the girl gets dibs.

that’s what he had said.

a coiling fear seized your chest, your breath trapped and lungs stuttering. you looked to John, flattened and forgotten by Charles’s feet. you internally begged him to get up. when he didn’t move, you looked up behind Charles to Gaz and Soap, bloodied and firing round after round. 

when the men hefted you to your feet, half-dragging you down the dirt road, you struggled, tears welling in your eyes. “no—” Charles tried to cover your mouth but you bit his hand hard and he snarled.

“no!” you screamed, fighting even when they yanked you into an empty saloon and threw you against the bar top.

Charles held you down with an iron grip, and other man unbuckled himself with a malicious grin. you felt overcome with an intense fear, trying to squirm up the side of the bar counter, but Charles held you steady. 

you should’ve never come here. this was your fault. this was your fault.

the third man was just a boy, shaking as he stared at you splayed across the counter. 

help me, you mouthed, but he just turned away so his back was to you.

this was your fault, this was your fault, this was your fault.

soon, your struggling subsided, and your mind drifted to a far, far, far off place.

the cool gun tight in your grip kept you tethered to your sanity when Charles kissed your now exposed calf. you tightened around the handle, feeling its silver embroidery, the men too distracted to notice the click of the safety.

an eerie calm drifted up in you as they continued their movements, Charles’s hand slipping underneath your skirt and drawers. you noted the glass bottle half full of beer abandoned right above your head.

you waited for the second man to float upwards, till his mouth was on your neck, and you shoved your sleeve right under his chin.

his eyes widened in surprise at your compliant behavior, humming something like approval before you pulled the trigger and blew clean through his face. he fell to the floor with a thud, half of his face gone, and Charles shrieked, looking down at his body in horror. that’s when you snatched the glass bottle of beer over your head and lurched off the counter to strike him in the head—over and over and over again.

your body was a machine, moving mechanically. the bottle shattered and alcohol pooled into blood. you didn’t stop until you couldn’t see the gold shine in his gaping mouth, until two arms gripped at your wrists, pulling your back into a broad, strong chest.

the musk of bourbon, smoke, and earth cleared your mind.

“Simon?” you squeaked, returning to yourself. 

the familiar cold of his mask against your neck brought you back down to the ground. 

he slowly pried the shattered bottle from your hand, only the neck and jagged shoulder left behind. he folded your hands into his gloved ones, crossing over your chest in a tight bind, crushing you to him.

you should’ve felt like you were debilitated, or trapped even, but you never felt more safe in his arms as you sobbed, tears streaming down your face. he was the only thing holding together the pieces of you right now.

he shushed you, smoothing a big hand over your chest as he rocked your entwined bodies.

“it’s alright, lovely.”

“it’s my fault,” you chanted, voice raw with effort. “it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault.”

Ghost didn’t respond to that, and instead began explaining with a calculated, low murmur into your ear. “i told the boys that there would be some Turner boys in this town. nothing they couldn’t handle. but there was an ambush.”

your breath hitched at that, cries dying in your throat.

“i was stationed with Alejandro and a lot of his boys in a town two miles west of this. we thought Turner would tear through there.” his thumb smoothed over your exposed neck. “he didn’t.”

it fell into pieces now. one-four-one stationed here, expecting less than a dozen of Turner’s men, when instead, they crawled through this town like ants. an ambush.

“Kate rode into town like a wild animal. i thought someone died.” his voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “i thought you died.”

you remembered the lashing tendrils of panic you felt in pressed against the wall in the back room, Ghost bleeding out a couple feet in front of you, the billiard parlor up in flames across the street.

had he felt the same?

“the boys,” you began instead, pushing the memory away, “how are they?”

he gripped your chin, turning your face to his and pressing his forehead to yours. the swirling darkness of his eyes was more comforting than anything you had ever known.

“they’ll live.”

you shivered at that and he soothed you with a shush, gently pulling you to your feet. wincing, he caught your wobbling body immediately.

“hurt?” he asked cooly, but you could hear a sharp edge in it.

you gave him a sheepish look. “my ankle.”

he just nodded, sweeping you into his arms like you were his bride. even if it was so improper, the exhaustion that furled around you like a fog had you curled into his chest as he stepped over pools of blood.

over his shoulder, your stomach curdled at the sight of Charles, his face a gaping wound of pink, mangled flesh. he was half-beaten into the ground, and his associate was sprawled near his shoulder. the boy was nowhere to be seen.

you closed your eyes against Ghost’s neck, pressing your nose to its steady pulse. you barely registered the light that enveloped you when he stepped outside, the light crunching of dusty dirt under his boots a mile away. there was murmuring, new and foreign voices coupled with old ones. no more gunshots. no more shouting.

you let the foggy undertow pull you somewhere softer and sweeter—right into the roughness of your mama’s hands brushing your hair by the fireplace, Daddy reading an old book aloud behind your shoulder.

it was the rhythmic clatter of steel tracks against steel rail that stirred you from a light slumber. your sweet dreams had stretched into grotesque, bloody depictions the further they ran on, replaying scenes over and over in your head.

Charles’s face split open on the floor. red running from Daddy’s temple. a knife through your mama’s heart. Turner’s wrinkly hand on your thigh as he shoots three bullets through Ghost’s heart—his eyes wide as blood poured down his maskless face. but beneath the blood, he was faceless, skin smoothed over and pale, till his face morphed into Charles's deformed flesh and it replayed again.

a soft stroking along your thigh brought you further from the murky haze, and you pushed up against a solid form. you opened your eyes to find Ghost’s, blinking down at you.

there was an endless, crushing relief to see his mask still firmly clasped to his face. 

you tried to push away any lingering curious voices in your head, but they pushed through the weak pockets of your mental blockade, whispering out, what’s under it? 

you prayed that you wouldn’t find a faceless form beneath the red gleam of it.

his arm was wrapped around your shoulders and back, fingers digging into your waist and thigh. you were practically half in his lap, cheek pressed to his chest, his big trench coat slung over your curled up body.

for the first time, you realized, you awoke to Ghost’s presence by your side. you would’ve happily nuzzled back into his warmth and fallen back into the nightmares that clutched at you, if you didn’t realize that you had an audience.

eyes snapping open, and sitting up straighter, you blearily tried to shake the sleep away as you met the stares of several foreign faces sitting in chairs opposing you. save for the weary one-four-one—John dozing lightly, a new splint in bandage over his nose, Soap’s face a remote grim shade, Gaz’s and Kate’s attention trained on you.

you noticed Soap’s arm in a sling with a bitterness.

shifting, you looked out the train compartment window moving through the arid, weedy forest, sun dipping far into the horizon in a crimson-purple hue. 

“good morning,” Ghost greeted, pressing the nose of his mask to your hair. muffling a squeak, you tried to shift away because it was improper, but his strength held you close, hot gaze burning into your cheek.

you cleared your throat, looking to the man nearest to you. his hair was slicked back in dark curls, a toothpick between his teeth. he gave you a wild grin.

“we finally meet, chica,” he said in a beautifully lilted accent. he stood to offer his hand politely, and you would’ve stood to curtsy if Ghost’s hold on you wasn't so… possessive.

instead you put your hand in his and he kissed the back of it with a sly look.

Ghost tutted, muttering an impatient, “Alejandro.”

your brows rose when Alejandro released your hand with a laugh. he gestured to a clean-shaven, handsome man beside him.

“this is my most trusted right hand—Rodolfo.”

he smiled at you politely with a slight nod but made no move to shake your hand.

you nodded back. “pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Alejandro gestured to the other men littered around the room, leaning back in their plush seats. “and these are my men. los vaqueros.”

your breath hitched, looking around the room in a slight awe. these men were legends you heard of in childhood—iron fists of justice in the south that grappled with corrupt conglomerates and drug-dealing cartels. they also dabbled in their own bouts of illegal trouble. their hard-lined faces stared back at you.

instead you croaked, “where are we? and where are we going?”

you jumped a little when Ghost thumbed at your cheek, almost forgetting he was there. “we’re mid-way through southern california, bound for san francisco.”

your eyes ran over the los vaqueros, donned with bandoliers and sombreros, then one-four-one, looking much smaller and more meager. you couldn’t help but give them a weary smile, a warmth spreading in you when Soap perked up a smile of his own.

“why?”

Kate leaned back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest. you were eternally grateful for the comfort in at least one other female presence.

“we’re going to war.”

you stiffened. “what?”

Soap quickly followed. “against the Turner boys.” his eyes darkened. “they’re wreckin’ all our towns. they won’t stop and we don’t have enough boys to get ‘em.”

Ghost’s grip on your hip tightened. Gaz pushed on. “we’re going straight to the source.”

in san francisco?

you remembered the map in the basement, the large red circle over midwest california that included the bustling hub that was san francisco, with a scribbled T in the middle. a feeling of dread gripped your stomach. this was going to develop into a gang war—or something like it at least.

“does it really have to come to that?”

you grimaced when a terse silence followed.

“this is more than about money, lovely,” Ghost said with a thickness to his accent. “this is about revenge.”

you summed that much up from the dangerous flicker in Soap’s eyes, but you worried more about where you fit into the equation. you thought back to Ghost’s journal, a sudden apprehension for the arm coiled around you tightly. 

did phase two include you? were you of use once your daddy refused Ghost’s proposed ransom? and if you weren’t?

Ghost’s journal burned a hole through the pocket of your split skirt—maybe it was selfish, maybe it was childish, but a flurrying panic rose in you at the thought of going back home. you just couldn’t.

you bit back your tongue as Kate and a half-awake John moved to discuss with Alejandro in quiet murmurs that you couldn’t hear. they circled around a table, Soap and Gaz leaning into the conversation behind them.

you felt Ghost’s hand twitch on your hip as he shifted, gaze still trained on you.

sighing, you inclined your head in their direction. “go.”

he pressed his masked lips to your cheek in, what you deciphered as, a silent thank you. 

you just swatted at him with a blush as he helped you to your feet, drawing his trench coat tighter around your shoulders. Rodolfo lended you a gracious arm to lean on as Ghost neared the table, your ankle an irritable throb in the back of your mind. the crowd split, his broad form pushing through, and merged again, Ghost’s stetson half-obscured from view.

you wanted to join their circle, or lean in at least, and absorb their low murmurs, but instead Rodolfo helped you limp out of the train compartment into a plush hall.

you must’ve been in a first class sleeping car because you had not seen something so lush—springy green carpet beneath your boots and a ruby red wallpaper that crawled with patterns of roses and prickly vines. the lights overhead were gilded in gold.

Rodolfo must’ve caught your gaze because he gave you a half-smile, clarifying, “Kate pulled some strings.”

you just nodded weakly. the thought of one-four-one’s influence spreading to big railway conglomerates was staggering, but at this point, didn’t sweep you into shock.

he led you to a door with a carved brass knob and chiseled key hole, fumbling with a circlet of keys in his hand. you looked down the hall and startled when, at the end of the hallway compartment, you spotted a man staring straight back at you. he wore a fashionable black jacket with silver buttons and embellishments, a cap on his head that read pullman porter on a brass plating.

his eyes flickered from you to the door Rodolfo opened with a soft click, before he drew the hallway compartment door shut with a slam. you watched him stride away fast through the window, other first class passengers lounging lazily in the opposite compartment. 

“senorita?”

Rodolfo held the door open for you and you thanked him quickly, pulling yourself together and stepping into the luscious, but cramped, bedroom. politely, he closed the door, and you were left in a relief crushing silence.

the bed bowed beneath your weight as you sunk into it, kicking off your boots and laying out Ghost’s trench coat, falling back on it. you itched to loosen the strings of your corset but it was buried beneath too many layers of clothes for you to care about that now.

instead, you emptied the pockets of your fraying split skirt. you lined up Ghost’s journal, the matches, bunch of rope, and extra ammo on the bed. at the sight of it, you couldn’t help but lament the continuous absence of a revolver in your inventory.

you wondered if it was one-four-one’s intention to keep it that way as you picked through the room. there was an oil lamp on the nightstand—a carved cherry wood piece you took a moment to admire before moving to the equally exquisite armoire. opening it with a gasp, a bright bunch of fabric spilling into your face and almost knocking you back.

the thing was stuffed full of dresses and fancy garments—dresses, skirts, blouses in silk and chiffon with lacey embellishments. for a moment, you panicked. was this your designated room?

from outside the door, you heard someone taking slow steps down the hall. the knob was hallway turned when you swept up the stolen items you had laid out on the bed and shoved them back into your pockets. 

Ghost slinked into the room without so much as a word and a tired look. your heart was still beating out of your chest.

“ever heard of knocking?” you frowned deeply. “what if i was indecent?”

he huffed an amused sound at that, eyes twinkling as he sat on the bed. “i’ve seen you indecent before.”

your stomach curled at the memory. suddenly, being in such close proximity alone with Ghost felt like a sinful thing, and a heat snaked under your skin, traveling up to your cheeks till it burned in your ears.

he cocked his head at you but not unkindly. “we need to talk, lovely.”

you nodded. “yes.” then, curiosity overtook you. “but what’s this?” you gestured to the open doors of the armoire behind you. 

he cleared his throat and avoided your eyes, shifting on the bed. “they’re for you.”

your brows shot up. that’s what this was?

you looked from Ghost twitching on the bed to the stuffed armoire. you could imagine him picking out dresses and blouses and skirts at a tailor shop with Kate by his shoulder as you slept away the afternoon’s traumatizing events, then boarding the luxurious train with you curled into his arms.

a romantic gesture?

before you let your thoughts run away from you, sitting beside him on the bed, you had wanted to thank him in that polite manner your mama has always taught you, but you find yourself wanting to tease the apprehensive tenseness in his shoulders instead.

“it’s going to take a lot more than money to charm me, Simon,” you called softly, leaning into his side.

even if he had plenty of it, you thought dreamily, eyes running over the expensive fabric of his black suit.

he just scoffed, turning his head completely from you, but didn’t lean away. you inched behind him to smooth your hands over his shoulders which seemed to impossibly tighten even more.

“so tense,” you said in his ear, massaging your thumbs into the fleshy parts of his back. head tipping back slightly, his slow, deflating exhale didn’t go unnoticed. 

“we need to talk,” he repeated, voice gruff. you leaned over his shoulder to peer at his face, but his eyes had already slid shut beneath his mask.

humming, you rubbed circles into the back of his neck, then inching back down between his shoulder blades and along his spine. one hand on his back, you slid the other to the front, watching the way his shoulders laxed with wonder.

when your fingers fiddled with the button of his vest, his gloved hand caught your wrist, heavy eyes looking over his shoulder at you with a warning that dripped with something darker. you squirmed under his gaze, skin feeling impossibly hot, a familiar clench in your stomach.

“you minx,” he said, voice a low rumble that coaxed a whine from your throat and only darkened the look in Ghost’s eyes.

he began to push you over to the bed with a hand on your chest, towering over you with a glint in his eye, but you yelped, squirming away from his hold. the movement tipped you over the edge of the bed and you crashed into the nightstand, almost knocking over the oil lamp. your ankle screamed in protest, but the images flashing through your head cut right through the pain.

the man unbuckling his belt. Charles’s hand holding you down in an iron vice, rough lips against your skin. his hand digging into your naked flesh beneath your undergarments. both of them looming over you with black eyes, and the glint of gold—

“lovely?” Ghost steadied you with an arm around your waist—but not in a way that constricted you. his eyes searched your own.

“what is it?” he demanded, and you swallowed hard, shaking your head.

“nothing.” you laxed, curling over him and instead pressed him down so his back hit the bed with a thud. “it’s nothing.”

you clambered over him clumsily, allowing his hands to guide you to a comfortable position, legs hooked around his waist and hands braced against his chest. it was solid and warm beneath you, like a rock that swelled slowly. you bit down on your lower lip, trying to the best of your ability to ignore the sharp stabbing of your ankle.

“you sure?” from his warm grip on your hips, and the narrow of his eyes, you knew he didn’t believe you for a second. you didn’t think he was stupid enough to not know why.

but you nodded with a stuttering breath anyway. “just let me…” you searched for the words, finding your head back in the place where you laid with him only a night ago. “take care of you.”

you unbuttoned his vest as he worked on your blouse, pulling it off with an ease that sent chills down your spine. you squeaked with surprise when he pulled you flush to his chest, sitting up to throw his vest to the floor and strip off his dress shirt. untangling yourself from him, you stood to undo your skirt, letting it pool around your ankles.

you looked up to Ghost who watched you from the bed, eyes a hungry, smoky glare. you studied the muscled gleam of his torso, breath hitching at the sight of his stitches. the wound was a raw pink and dangerously loose.

huffing an impatient noise, you yelped when he pulled you back onto his lap, pressing his mask into your neck and hair. it screamed such a Simon gesture that it had you melting into him, clutching at the fabric on the back of his head. 

this was Simon. any dread furling at the edges of your mind dissipated. but still, you couldn’t hold yourself back from worrying— 

“your stitches?” you gasped, feeling him pull up the fabric of his mask and press his hot lips to your neck, tongue sliding out.

a breathy noise left your lips and you squirmed, bracing your hands against the brawn of his shoulders to push him back down to the bed again. he gave way easily, to your surprise.

in the low light of the day, his lips looked pretty and full as he licked them. “they’re fine.”

you ran your hands over his chest, gasping when he pressed his hips up gently into you. there was a hardness in his pants that felt delicious against that painful ache of your core.

you muffled a sigh, allowing his hands to drag you over that hardness once more, then you gasped again. your eyes snapped up to his and he smirked, teeth glinting in the light.

“feel good?”

your head tipped back, hands scrambling for purchase. you gripped tightly at his forearms.

“i’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you whined out as he rocked you back and forth.

“you are,” he grunted through gritted teeth, head lolling back against the pillows, his muscled neck bobbing with a heavy swallow. your eyes followed the movement with a hunger, feeling a strange desire to lick over it.

even through your drawers, the friction felt like heaven, and as his movements grew faster, the tightness of your corset felt constricting around the heavy pants of your breast.

noticing this, Ghost moved to quickly unstring it, your hips endlessly canting against him. you felt a wonderful burn in your core, traveling up to your chest, throat, and tingling behind your eyes that were screwed shut.

you gasped when the corset fell away, a coolness enveloping your bare skin, jolting when you felt something hot and wet at your nipples. looking down, you moaned at the sight of his tongue swirling around the hardened buds of your breast, suckling one into his mouth. it left your chest tingling, the feeling raw and sensitive and foreign, but you only wanted more.

“that’s it. moan for me, princess,” he purred, one hand trailing down your bare spine and stopping at your backside, massaging it down into his hardness, spurring your hips forward.

you barely registered his words, biting down hard on your lip to keep the growing noises at bay as Ghost led you closer and closer to an inevitable precipice. he drew away his tongue from your chest, looking up at you with narrowed eyes. you whimpered in its absence.

“louder, pretty thing.” he tugged back a bit on your hair, so your head tilted back and your lax jaw fell open, releasing a slew of pretty sighs that had him humming approvingly.

“good girl.”

his husky words sent you hurtling over the edge, and your body shook with pleasured delight, vibrating across your skin in seizing spams. you would’ve toppled over if it weren’t for the strong arms that circled your middle.

“Simon…” you whined, clutching weakly at his arms as he scattered kisses all across your jaw, neck, chest, breasts till the murky colors exploding in your vision faded.

he lowered you back down to the bed, and you collapsed beside him, panting. he stroked at your hair, turning onto his side with a warm fullness in his gaze. your lips stretched into a weak smile and you craned up to kiss his neck softly, licking over that swollen appendage in its center like you had wanted to earlier.

you relished in the way his breath hitched. eyeing over his body, there was still a bulge in his dress pants that stirred your curiosity.

sending him a silent question with your gaze, his knuckles dragged over your exposed arm. he cocked his head. “i’m alright, lovely.”

“but…” your face heated up. “i want to see.”

he shifted on the bed, black eyes darting over your face. for the first time since you’d known him, Ghost looked… nervous.

“why do you want to see?”

“because…” the words died in your throat. his lips stretched into a wry grin.

“you don’t need to. i like you like this,” he sighed, twirling your loose hair between his fingers.

your brow furrowed. “like what?”

his grin grew fuller. “innocent.”

you mustered your most bitter look and threw it at him, mood plummeting when he let out a throaty laugh.

“you really want to see that bad?” his eyes went dark again, and you nodded eagerly.

with a long look, a hand twitching at his side, he just sighed and willed you closer with a beckoning hand. you sat up with a sharp clarity to your mind, inching forward towards his pants. he remained leaned back against the pillows, one arm stretched over his body and cradling the back of his head as he unbuckled his pants with one hand.

he pulled himself out of his undergarments, the flesh heavy, swollen, firm, and drooling a thick fluid at the flushed tip. your whole body heated up with something—shame, embarrassment, longing, or something even deeper.

“oh,” you squeaked, avoiding his gaze entirely, though you knew it was burning into your cheek. he grabbed your chin, turning your head to meet it.

“we can stop here, but i don’t know if i can hold back if you just—” he swallowed hard, “watch me like that.”

“like what?” you asked, lips parting and eyes growing doe-like.

he cursed, and you watched in amazement when his hand flexed around his length, abdominal muscles flexing in time with it, tip oozing out more fluid. weirdly, saliva pooled in your mouth, and you resisted the urge to swallow it back.

you wanted to put your tongue on it.

“like that,” he rasped, throat strained with effort. 

you gazed at him wordlessly, hands feeling restless. you wanted to touch him.

he cocked his head. “what’s wrong?” 

when you said nothing, his lips pressed into a thin line, starting to tuck himself back into his pants, and you felt a growing panic in you. “i told you i’m alright pretty girl—”

“no!” you lurched forward to snatch his wrist away, his length straining against his stomach. his eyes snapped up in surprise and you felt your entire face go red with embarrassment. “i mean,” you inhaled deep, “no. i… i want to…”

you swallowed hard. Ghost lips twitched, a very amused expression stretching his face.

“can i…?”

his hand rubbed over your thigh, squeezing. “can you what, pretty thing?”

you whimpered, clutching at his hand. “want to put my mouth on it.”

the growl from the back of his throat should’ve scared you but it only spurred you forward, settling closer to the side of him, your thigh firmly pressed against his as you sat your backside over your ankles. one experienced a stabbing pain, but the sight in front of you cut right through the nagging sensation.

Ghost’s gaze was intense, heavier than you ever felt before, even with his body laxed back into the pillows, one arm hooked behind his head.

“go ahead, lovely.”

tentatively, you reached out, brushing your fingertips over the very tip of it where all the fluids were spilling out in rolls down his length. the hiss he let out made your core shiver, vibrating back to life in slow, hot pulses.

“what does it feel like?” you whispered, and his eyes closed.

“good.”

“how good?” you pressed, dragging your fingertips down the underside and back up again. his breath hitched when you brushed over a sensitive spot nestled beneath the tip. massaging at it with your thumb experimentally, his eyes snapped open again, snatching up your wrist.

your heart skipped a beat, a new worry clouding your mind. had you done something wrong?

on the verge of apology, you stopped short when he pressed a kiss to your inner wrist.

“you have to tell me if you want to keep going or not.” his eyes flashed. “if we do, i won’t want to stop, and i don’t want to scare you.”

even beneath the layers of his mask, the way his jaw was set in a grim clench, you could see the sincerity in his face.

“i want to make you feel good,” you said with finality, and his lips twitched up.

“i know you do.” he rubbed your cheek with affection. “such a polite girl.”

“tell me what to do,” you almost begged, squirming in his hold, and he guided your hand back down to his swollen length, gasping when he wrapped your entire hand around it.

it was wet, sticky, warm, throbbing.

“feels good when you squeeze tighter,” he said softly, eyes going hazy when you immediately obeyed. slowly, he dragged your hand up and down its length, going completely lax against the bed.

you watched in amazement, clenching your thighs together as your entire hand went up and down it in a rhythmic grind, the swells of his chest rising faster with every ministration. his eyes fluttered close periodically, sometimes tightening his hold on your hand, then going loose, altering speeds between painstaking slowness and a quick jerking movement.

“doin’ good, princess,” he panted, and you flushed at the praise because you really weren’t doing anything.

scanning over his body, you remembered the way his breath stopped short when your tongue was on his skin. 

you wanted to hear those sounds again. 

leaning down, you shyly mouthed over the skin at his neck, sucking there, and you were immediately spurred on with the low groan that left his lips.

your lips traveled down past his collarbones, to the plush muscle of his chest, tongue circling his nipples now, and he jolted in beneath you, hand stuttering almost to a stop.

“christ,” he gritted out as you sucked there, thighs squirming together for an ounce of relief.

you found it when Ghost snaked a hand beneath your drawers, seeking out your puffy clit and eagerly discovering it, rubbing firm circles against you.

your lips fell away from his chest, and you almost crumpled onto him, grinding down into his hand with a greediness that bloomed through your whole body. he hummed approvingly in your ear, kissing the shell of it gently, when you jerked your hand over his length on your own—matching the movements of his fingers on your clit.

“fuck, just like that,” he rasped, sounding a bit desperate now.

his hand fell away from yours around his length, gripping at your hip instead to steady you. when he sped up, so did your hand, sparks flying beneath your eyelids as you keened loud. his lips were on your neck, and your whole body went numb, but your gaze was intent on his own length that throbbed deliciously strong in your hand.

it twitched, then shuddered, and you felt Ghost muffle a groan against your neck as his hips stuttered up, watching in amazement as fluids spurted out from the tip in rhythmic pulses, rolling down over your hand in a milky substance.

you both shuddered through mutual pleasure, and once the last of the wracking waves struck you, you crashed forward into his chest, a sticky and sweaty mess.

you caught his eye, tired and half-lidded, a bead of sweat going down his neck as his chest rose rapidly, and you couldn’t help but laugh—feeling giddy from the open display of his own pleasure that Ghost had just revealed to you.

his lax face shifted into one of amusement, craning down to kiss your nose. that’s when you remembered—

“i didn’t put my mouth on it,” you realized with a cracking disappointment. 

looking down to his length, now softer and still covered in the fluids, you leaned down to press your tongue to it, but were pulled back suddenly by a soft hiss.

“don’t,” Ghost rasped, and you gave him a wide-eyed apologetic look. 

he just shook his head. “it’s different than this—” he smoothed a hand over your clothed cunt, and you gasped with embarrassment at the blunt movement, “—s’more sensitive after i orgasm.”

you tilted your head. “orgasm?”

he brushed the hair from your sweaty forehead. “your climax,” he elaborated in a seductively smooth voice and you blushed, pushing his hand away as he smirked. you knew what he meant.

your gaze traveled back to the pool of fluid on his stomach, a curiosity brewing in you. “is that what this is?”

he followed your gaze. “mhmm. it’s what this is, too.”

he snaked his hand back into your undergarments, and you jolted with a gasp, squirming when he pressed two fingers against your entrance. when he pulled them back to show you, there was a sticky wetness on them—similar to the one on his pelvis.

“oh,” you said, flushed with embarrassment at such blunt displays of education.

you mentally chided your mama for teaching you absolutely nothing about this. though, you assumed she would’ve told you before your marriage about… lovemaking.

before a crashing guilt could consume you, the view of Ghost wrapping his tongue around his fingers that were sticky with your orgasm startled you back to reality.

“Ghost!” you exclaimed, pulling his fingers out of his mouth. 

his brow furrowed as he huffed with frustration. “what?”

“that’s improper!” you slapped at his chest. “very improper! and…” your face screwed up. “unsanitary.”

that face-consuming smirk of his stretched his pretty lips. “don’t forget i was drinking it straight from the source last night.”

with your hand to your mouth, you gasped, pushing yourself completely off the bed as he shook with quiet laughter, delirious with it, even.

“i’m done with you,” you said with a roll of your eyes as he beseeched you to come back, but you refused to comply, clasping your corset back around you.

out of the corner of your eye, you watched him mop up the wetness on his body with his balled up dress shirt before he padded over, swiping your hair over your shoulder.

“let me help.”

you felt him lace the thing back up, and tug it close loosely. you sent him a look over your shoulder, instructing him to tighten it more, but he just grumbled, barely tugging it tight and you ended up shooing him away to do it yourself.

he gave you a grumpy, reproachful look and you had to bite back a grin at his behavior—that intimidating stoicism returned as promised as a rising ocean tide.

from the armoire, you picked out a loose nightgown, bodice embroidered with small bows and lace, sleeves pulling into a wide bell shape at your elbow. Ghost was still half-naked, leaning back on your bed with a sleepy gaze. he gave you a highly approving hum when you pulled it on before excusing yourself to wash up in the lavatory.

drawing Ghost’s trench coat back around your shoulders, and stepping into the hall, you muffled a shout when the same pullman porter was stationed at the end of the hallway, eyes boring into you. in the darkness of the night, shadows were cast strangely across his face, and his eyes looked like they were a pure black.

resisting the urge to step back into your room, where a very dangerous and strong outlaw lay, you just gave the porter a polite nod to move to a lavatory in the opposite direction. the porter stood stock still in the dark, not even moving to acknowledge you.

bitten with fear, you sighed in relief when you pushed into the private lavatory, locking the door behind you. inspecting your appearance in the mirror, you cringed at the disheveledness of it. there was a dark, purpling circle of exhaustion under your eyes and a swollen pink hue to your face—not to mention the frizzy circlets of hair defying gravity on your crown.

you took your own washcloth and dipped it in the basin, turning the faucet, praying for hot water. when none came after you stripped yourself of your nightgown, you grimaced as you scrubbed the cold washcloth over yourself. you wet your hair and brushed it back, splashing your face with the icy water, toweling off, then redressing yourself in the nightgown.

a hand on the lavatory knob, you worried about the porter at the end of the hallway. what if he had moved? what if, when you opened the door, you’d open it to his face—the all-encompassing black of his eyes?

suddenly, events just hours prior came crashing down on you. men looming over you. the sickening thud of the bullet hitting that man on his horse, face going black, before falling to the ground with a crunch. the clink of a belt.

gunshots were in your ears, an intense ringing after each click, trigger, pull, boom and smoke.

“no,” your hands shook as you slid down the lavatory wall, covering your ears. 

the banging became louder. with each boom another body dropped dead, blood unfurling around it like a bad omen, its tendrils snaking. snaking towards you. 

“no, no.” you couldn’t stop shaking.

this was your fault.

you had killed three men today. one, on the horse, second, bullet through the face, third, beat him to death in the ground. beat him to death.

this was your fault. this was your fault, this was your fault, this was your fault—

“HEY!” you jolted back to reality, breath in a dizzying flurry. really dizzying flurry. when you stood, you felt nauseous, almost keeling over and throwing up. you pressed your forehead to the cool of the wall, swallowing back the bile hard.

there was a banging knock on the door.

“how much fockin’ longer are ye going to take’n there?” you tried to work out your voice but all that came out was a scraping rasp.

“sweet mother of mary and jesus, what does a man need to do to piss ‘round here—”

you swung the door open suddenly and Soap jumped back with a yelp, pressed flat against the opposite of the narrow hallway. the soft, yellow lighting poured out into the dark hallway and bruises you didn’t notice before littered Soap’s cheeks, his right eye a pocket of swollen, purple flesh.

his anger dissipated in a second at the sight of you, giving you a nervous, wry smile.

“sorry, lassie, didn’t know it was you—” he paused suddenly, face contorting. “are ye cryin’, lassie?”

you touched your fingers to your numb face, pulling back to find a wetness on your fingertips. you just stared at him as he fumbled awkwardly, mouth opening and closing.

you spoke for him. “i killed three men.”

he didn’t even react, expression deflating as he nodded. “it happens, lass.”

he reached out a hand tentatively, just barely brushing his good hand over your shoulder, the other still hanging limp by his chest in a white sling.

how can murder be normal?

“no, i killed them. on purpose.” something in you broke. “i wanted them to die.”

he just shook his head again, gripping your shoulder tightly now. “they would’ve done worst te you if you didn’t, bonnie.”

you chewed that, finding it indigestible no matter how you looked at it.

Soap continued quickly, “i enlisted when i was sixteen. saw things in a war i shouldn't've. luckily one-four-one and Laswell had my back…”

he smiled fondly before shrugging. “war happens. death happens, lassie, whether you wish it on someone or not. those men had it comin’ for ‘em.”

nodding slowly, you barely mustered a tight-lipped smile when he patted your shoulder brazenly, beaming with a grin. behind him, a grumpy looking blonde materialized in the hallway, her hair tousled and still in full riding attire, grip tight at her holster. Soap’s grip dropped immediately.

“what’s goin’ on here?” Kate demanded, looking from you to Soap.

you jolted, the roughness of her expression pulling you back to reality. a creeping shame rose in you—crying in front of a man you barely knew, confessing your sins to him in your lacey nightgown in the middle of the dark, narrow hallway. Kate’s gaze hardened, and you balked, struggling to find an explanation when Soap interjected.

“i was just waitin’ to use the loo!” he tossed you a smile, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that told you to play along. “funny meetin’ you here in the hallway, princess!”

like ice water dumped over your head, you were strung back into your body. 

you rolled your eyes. “don’t call me that.”

“right,” Soap sang, “only Ghost can say it. apologies, lass.”

you stepped out of the lavatory with Ghost’s coat around you and Soap slid in after you, shutting the door. looking into Kate’s furrowed face, you could see the red-rimmed bloodshot of her eyes and the bags beneath them. she looked exhausted.

beyond her, down the hall in the compartment where you ventured from earlier, John, Alejandro, and Rodolfo were still engrossed in conversation.

Kate followed your gaze with a sigh. “don’t even ask, missy,” she warned with a warm hand at your back and you suppressed a smile.

you were grateful as she led you back down the narrow hallway to your room, the porter still in the same spot from earlier, eyes dead on you. eyes looking dead as well.

you tried your best to ignore him but his head jerked, cracking it, rolling back his shoulders from the stiff position. rushing a bit faster, you could feel Kate’s hand tighten against your spine as you fumbled with the room key.

you jolted when she called down the hall.

“what the hell’re you lookin’ at?” she griped at the porter, who finally turned his head to the window beside him.

her eyes narrowed, and she grumbled low into your ear, “don’t go venturing off in this train alone at night, as much as i know you love to explore.”

there was a dripping sarcasm in her voice that you chose to ignore as you swung the door open, bidding her a soft goodnight as she gave you a tight-lipped smile before it dropped from her face into a scowl. but the full look in her eyes made you feel as though you may have grown closer than you thought over just the past three days.

shutting the door behind you, you leaned against it, sighing out, before turning to find Ghost in a sprawled out position like before. your spent clothes for the day were folded in the corner on a plush chair as well as his own. you couldn’t help but smile at that seemingly persistent habit of neatness he had as you laid down his coat over the back of the chair.

you neared him but he didn’t turn to look at you, just leaned his head against the wall.

you crawled onto the bed and brushed your knuckles over the red mask. you were disappointed to see the black fabric beneath it pulled down over his jaw again.

“have a good wash?”

he blinked owlishly out the window on the opposing wall, desert passing by serenely, washed in a cool blue tone by the sweep of the moonlight. the rattling of the train clinked through the room.

you opened your mouth before swallowing down hard. 

no one has to know about your episode.

Soap had made sure of that in front of Kate, and you felt endlessly indebted to him. how would Ghost react if he knew you were having… mental struggles? you could only pray under your breath that it wouldn’t persist, but you doubted god was listening to your meek voice after the sins you’ve committed today.

shivering, you just nodded with a smile. “refreshing.”

“good.” his face swung to you, a hardness to his eyes. your brow furrowed but you buried it with another smile. “we need to talk.”

blinking, you slinked away from him and sat on the far edge of the bed, which wasn’t very far at all in the cramped room, his outstretched foot resting against your hip. you leaned back against the window, the moonlight casting his mask in a blue gleam.

“we do,” you agreed, though about what—you didn’t know where to begin.

what exactly would happen once you reached san francisco? would you be included in their business, or would they shut you out like before? a stranger and a hostage? 

you one-overed Ghost’s relaxed form, to the muscles of his torso, the veins spidering up his arms, and the distant look in his eyes.

what was going on between you and Ghost?

what exactly was phase two?

you thought back to this afternoon in the basement and what you had found—the intercepted letter from your daddy and Ghost’s journal. your eyes darted to the pile of clothes in the room.

“looking for this?”

you jolted when he tossed something onto the open space of the bed beside you, stomach dropping at the words scrawled over it.

GHOST.

a snaking dread sized you, any lingering warm feelings of your shared night sliding off your body like icy water.

your eyes snapped up to his—cold and dark. 

like the porter’s, a traitorous voice in you called out, but you immediately willed it away, because this was Simon.

“you can’t blame me for snooping.” your jaw clenched when he didn’t respond. “you took me and confined me to the shop. no one told me what would happen to me. i needed to know if…”

you swallowed around your next words. “...if you were going to ransom me back to my daddy.”

Ghost made no move, didn’t even blink, hand twitching on his bare chest.

“you want the truth?” holding your breath, you gave him a curt nod.

“i was going to,” he chewed out, and you blinked. “last night i was still deciding.”

last night. when you were curled up in his arms and he had taken your first bout of innocence from you. a spark of something dark lit within you. as of recent, it seems he’s taken a lot from you in general.

your gun, your innocence, your parents. your home.

“did you go see my daddy that day?”

that day when you said you were searching for Sugar, you wanted to challenge, was it all a lie?

you thought back to the intercepted letter—your daddy’s anger seething through the note, and his promise to wrung one-four-one of everything until he got you back. maybe the proper term was rescue.

Ghost’s jaw clenched. “yes.”

you sucked in a breath, a spiraling panic coming back to you like the one in the lavatory before. you willed it away best you could, pressing cool knuckles to your temple as you closed your eyes. images flashed—your daddy dead, blood everywhere, all over his papers, letters, clothes, a bullet in his temple and Ghost with a revolver to his head. was he dead?

did Ghost kill your daddy?

“is he alive?”

you waited for the answer with bated breath.

“‘course. even if he tried to kill me.”

a whoosh of air left you, and you leaned your head back against the cool window, taking in Ghost. his head was tilted, a curious glint in them that you ignored. 

his voice was cold. “anymore questions?”

you gave him a hard stare. “what changed your mind?”

“about?”

you scoffed. “not selling me away after…” last night. you couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

his foot pressed into your hip but you ignored it. he sighed out.

“i went to your father to offer a ransom.” your brow raised. “$25,000.”

this sounded familiar. 

“but he refused.”

you flinched at that, somewhere between a crushing weight of disappointment and embarrassment falling on you. you wiped away a brewing wetness in your eyes. Ghost couldn’t return you if your daddy didn’t want you in the first place.

“so?”

his foot dug deeper into your side.

“he told me something else.”

you finally met Ghost’s gaze, his head tipped forward and brows furrowed. you could tell from the way his eyes pinched with a haunted glare.

after a long silence ensued, you poked at his foot. “what was it?”

the void bluntness of his voice told you it wasn’t anything good.

“he refused the ransom because of his pride, but also because he didn’t want to ransom you when…” Ghost sucked in a breath, “when you already belonged to someone else.”

your mind reeled at that.

“what?”

“he thought it wasn’t fair he had to pay. he was already working with a businessman to make you his mistress.”

your stomach curdled, heart beating out your throat. “no, that’s…” you choked down some tears, “that’s not true.”

the end of your words turned up in a weak tremble that you desperately wanted to hide but Ghost pinned you down with his eyes.

“he was going to make you Turner’s mistress. that was part of their deal.”

your blood chilled at that, body going impossibly numb. what did this mean for you now? you scrambled to find purchase in your mind, in anything that would slow the spinning of the room. what did this mean for you now?

were you still of use to one-four-one? would they abandon you in san francisco to fight a war, leaving you to the streets? and if they did, would your daddy accept you back in his home, or turn you right over to Turner as his personal whore?

you shook, vision clouded over.

even if you didn’t choose your daddy, you still wish he chose you over everything.

you were his only daughter after all.

“that doesn’t make sense,” you said thickly, “why would he do that?”

Ghost was as still as a rock, his only sign of life was the hand that came down to play with the hem of your nightgown.

“bigger investment and more money, ” he said, voice eerily empty, and an iciness passed through you.

just another one of Daddy’s business transactions. 

you remember what Ghost called out at the dinner table that night.

you sell your daughter to investors for a buck. do you really want to talk about honor?

your eyes flickered to Ghost again. had he known all along? or had he just taken a great guess from doing so many years of business with your daddy—who you really didn’t seem to know at all?

a weak, strangled noise came from the back of your throat.

“but in that letter,” you groped, clawing for anything, “he said he would do anything to get me back. he said that.” 

your voice rose and Ghost’s eyes slid away from you to the window behind you.

you felt like a whining, whimpering child. a mile long chasm was being torn straight through the room, and when you looked to the other side, Ghost was the older, war-torn man he always was and you were just… you.

hopeful, naive, innocent.

you.

you balled up into your chest and let the tears stream from your eyes in the most silent sobs you could muster, only the gentle clinking of glass on metal in the room, train chugging on relentlessly, dragging you in tow.

had you really thought, only five days ago, that you could become a gunslinger alongside Ghost? a cowgirl with a great shot and a tough spirit?

you felt so far from all of it that you dug your nails into the soreness of your ankle, relishing the way the sharp waves of pain brought you back down to earth.

there was a sigh in your ear, and two strong arms that wrapped you up, but you twisted in them immediately, your nails digging into the flesh of Ghost’s arms as you shoved him away. 

“don’t you dare,” you hissed, pressing yourself as far as you could from him in the diminishing room. your eyes flickered to the ceiling above his head. it really looked like the room was getting smaller—the ceiling shrinking by the second.

he only watched you with an eerie calm, a nauseous feeling climbing in you.

“you did this,” you spat through tears. “a couple days ago i was with my mama and daddy and everything was fine until you showed up.”

your breath shook. “you devil.” 

whether Ghost was hurt by it, you couldn’t tell, because he only blinked harshly, but you regretted the words anyways. because you knew that Ghost was telling the truth. even if you did stay with your mama and daddy, and Ghost had never taken you, you would’ve been swept away to Turner’s big estate in san francisco anyway.

but the bile poured from you like a sweltering, infected wound. “i would’ve been married,” you cried out, tears dripping from your trembling chin onto the breast of your nightgown. of Ghost’s nightgown.

liar, a voice in you hissed, but you pushed it to the furthest corner of your mind. 

“you stole me from my parents, took my honor, and you’re a liar!”

Ghost cocked his head at you, eyes glazed over and mask glinting. you hated that stupid mask. you just wanted to rip it off his face.

you jolted when he spoke, grumbling out, “i didn’t mean to.”

if there was a revolver slung in your holster, you would’ve shot him dead three times in the heart by now, just like your mama said.

Mama, a little girl in you cried, i’m sorry. i should’ve listened to you that first night in the cabin when he fell asleep.

he continued with gritted teeth. “i wanted revenge against your father for betraying me and i wanted revenge on Turner.” he wouldn’t look at you now. “i wanted to steal something of theirs and make it mine.”

of all the things he could’ve said, nothing in the world prepared you then. you lurched for him, vision red and wrapped your hands around his neck, wanting to see a flicker of fear in his eyes—or something other than the cold, dead wall you were talking to.

but he just flipped you easily in a calculated movement, weight keeping you pinned as you mindlessly struggled, arms in a bind above your head.

he talked over your cries and shouts now, voice in your ear— “i knew your daddy had a daughter. but i didn’t know she was so young and full of spirit and…” your struggling subsided. the look in his eyes seemed something like defeat. “...lovely.”

you spat right onto his mask but he didn’t even flinch.

“liar,” you hissed, working up into a frenzy again, squirming against his bone-crushing hold. “liar, liar, liar, liar—”

“i thought his daughter would be some rich, prissy girl who didn’t want anything to do with outlaws. then she told me she hated her happy, small town life, and her two parents that loved her.”

“liar, liar, liar, liar—”

“she told me that she could be a gunslinger if she wanted to be. she rode like one, too.”

you tried to scream and shout over his words and block it out of your brain, but his low murmur against your ear cut right through it all.

“when i realized what’d i’d done, that i’d stolen a girl who was a thief, it was too late. you saved my life when i got shot. i thought you would’ve ran away and left me for dead.”

his voice dropped even lower, the forehead of his cool mask pressing against your jaw. “i wanted you to leave me for dead.”

at that, your struggling subsided, confusion welling up in you like a stormy cloud.

“i wanted you to leave me for dead.”

he pulled back to press your arms to your chest and loomed over you.

“i wanted to be dead for what i was doing.”

you kicked out under his legs, knee connecting with something soft, and he dropped his hips with a hiss to pin you down.

“what were you doing?”

his voice was deceptively soft. “i was using you for revenge.”

more tears ran from the sides of your face like fleeing raindrops.

then a fast anger cooked in you, a slower simmer turning to a hot boil.

“i hate you,” you seethed, staring right into the wall of his mask. there wasn’t a human being beneath there.

just a calculated animal.

“i hate you,” you said again, voice breaking.

“good,” he nodded, though his tone was broken. “honest to god, i didn’t know your father was going to give you to Turner.”

you hissed, “how can you be honest to god?”

he ignored you. “i would’ve returned you to your family if they paid the ransom. even if they didn’t, i would’ve given you back eventually. but they didn’t want you and you didn’t want to go. it was always about Turner—we didn’t care about the money. your father happened to betray us and we found the perfect bloody outlet to Turner.”

you dug the side of your face into the side of the bed, refusing to look at him as he held you there. a pool of your tears formed beneath the swollen fleshiness of your cheek.

“i needed Turner to take the first step in this war. and he did. i got lucky when i happened to steal his future mistress.” his eyes flashed. “Turner hates it when his things are taken.”

“since, you’ve gotten what you want,” you cried, voice raw “what do you still need me for?” 

he closed his eyes. “i don’t know.”

“liar.” the word was becoming melded into your tongue. “you want to use me for revenge. is that all i’m useful for, then?” your throat cracked open, wide and full of emotion. “i’m just for your revenge? did you bed me for revenge?”

his gaze was half-lidded, tired. “yes.”

you fell limp at that, feeling every ounce of energy drain from you—like the devil was sucking away your life force.

you wanted that poisonous, gurgling voice inside you to breathe out another liar, to call Ghost’s bluff for what it was, but it fell silent the moment you needed it most.

closing your eyes, Ghost’s body draped over your own, warm and solid and flushed together. he pressed his mask into your hair. 

bourbon, cigarettes, and the musk of wood and dirt and sweet spruce. 

you couldn’t even fight it. you don’t even think you wanted to—because even if no one wanted you in the world, not even your daddy, Ghost did want you for something. one thing. 

revenge.

“get out,” you whispered, and he didn’t move, a big, swelling rock above you.

“get out!” you shouted, straight into his ear, but he didn’t even flinch. after another long pause he slid off you with a gentleness, a fleeting caress of his hand against your swollen ankle before he slinked away. there was a soft click of the door closing, Ghost’s boots thumping against the floor in the hallway.

you stayed in that position for a long time, pressed to the mattress right where he had left you. 

it was like, if you moved, the invisible imprint of him against your skin would disappear like his physical form, lost into the night. 

maybe this is what you needed, you decided. maybe, if you could convince one-four-one of your usefulness, that you were important to them, even beyond Ghost’s revenge ploys, you would become a permanent member and carve out a space in their lives. but not Ghost’s. never Ghost’s.

a withering, squirming dread in your stomach made it known that it would be impossible. at this point, you were too tired to even try and convince them to let you stay.

so you turned over and forced yourself into a relentless, exhausting sleep.

ok that was kinda crazy. but i promise the angst will not last forever. chapter 3 coming soon.........

i hope you guys enjoyed!! &lt;;33

taglist: @poohkie90 @kunikku @silverianni @doublesuicidewithme @cliosunshine @one17 @warenai @saturnknows @tomiesdiet @migueloharaapologist2 @keiva1000 @kenma-izhu @lilvampirina @deltottoro @maki-z @leeeenistop @danika1994 @stillinracooncity @saevitiaa @itsalwaysbetternottoknow @karagd13-blog @nattywatty @oyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoya @havoc973 @mr-sol

FUELED APOLOGY ☾

angry sex w mma toji, minutes before a match

tags — heavy nsfw, locker room sex, slight exhibitionism (they can def hear), angry toji, marked upp, dumbification, spit kink, cum dump, fingering, locker room sex, soft toji, apologetic toji, biting, unprotected,

the silent treatment was probably the single most annoying thing you could possibly do to toji. he’ll take anything else, yelling, screaming, hitting, kicking… just acknowledge him. but when you’re dead silent, blank stare; pretending he doesn’t even exist! now that makes him feel like shit…

he couldn’t even grasp the depths of your anger, until you began giving him the cold shoulder.

“you can’t answer a text anymore?” he’s leaning over the couch, eye bags dark and heavy, considering he stayed up all night waiting for you to come back home.

you don’t even look at him. you’re just taking off your shoes and padding your way to the bedroom. the door slamming shut. even when he slides under the covers, completely exhausted, his fingers grazing your arm filled with goosebumps, you slide further away.

“stop acting like a child—“ he honestly should’ve kept his mouth shut, next thing he knows, you were grabbing a pillow and dragging your feet down to the living room. he groans into the covers.

it didn’t matter that he’d come down after a few minutes. his fingers brushing your cheek before gently scooping you into his arms and carrying back into bed. his lips brushing your cheek in your deep sleep, so he can doze off beside you. finally able to sleep.

yet the morning would come and you’d be gone again, until he’s staying up again, waiting for you.

“seriously?” he immediately follows you into the bedroom as you ignore his greeting. “I fucking get it, now will you talk to me? I know you’re pissed, so just fucking give it to me!” his chest was boiling as he watched you pull off your clothes, stepping into the shower.

he sat quietly on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, resting his head back as he watched you shower through the steamed glass. his mind was shutting down, he didn’t like fighting with you. he knew he had a temper, and he could be stubborn, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t do anything for you!

his eyes fluttered open hearing you step out of the shower. rubbing his eyes, gaze set on your movements, his following the water droplets slide down the small of your back. the pretty way your nipples start to perk from the change in temperature.

you had to swallow your own love in order to walk past the tired man. he’s been overworking himself these past couple of weeks in order to get in shape for this upcoming match. you wanted to do your best to support him.

you hated seeing him so stressed all the time. but when you decided to try and help him when he was out training on the beach with his team, sprinting from one end to the other. you wanted him to know that you were there for him. even though you were busy with your uni classes and stressed from your own shit, you didn’t want toji to think he was alone.

so you brought your work to the beach, as he trained. was it really support when you’re laughing and chatting and letting every guy known to man, hit on you?! the emperor of mma wasn’t insecure. he knew you’d never do anything. yet, it still sent his blood sizzling, upset that you came here, all for you to start talking to these men—

“y/n!” the sudden shout of your name had your ears perking up, eyes shifting to the broad shouldered man, heaving by the ocean. you didn’t hesitate to grab the energy drink, happy that you can finally help as you sprinted to your boyfriend.

“how’s training? i was getting worried since you haven’t taken a break in so long—“

“what’re you doing?” the cut in his sentence had your brows pinching, still waiting for him to take the drink from your hands.

“nothing? was just waiting for yo—“

“nothing?” he repeats, his green eyes were as dark as the night forest.

“um…” you itch your cheek awkwardly. “i think you’re tired, I also brought some protein bars and sandwiches. just eat one—“

“go home,” he takes the drink from your hand. your eyes shift to his.

“I’ll leave in a couple minutes, I’m just—“

“I don’t wanna fucking see you right now. you’re distracting me, and it’s not helping!” he couldn’t make excuses. was it his fault? he was tired, and you were distracting, laughing and chatting away with these strangers—

“i didn’t mean to distract you. I came to—“

“I didn’t ask. so thanks, but you can leave now,” toji turns away from you, handing back the drink. “text me when you get ho—“ he glances over his shoulder to see you already grabbing your things and leaving.

he was praying that he didn’t fuck this up. especially when he didn’t get a text from you, of course he had to spam your phone with messages asking if you got home safely. was it a relief when he came home to see you already asleep?

“y/n?” his voice is low as he kneels beside the bed, palm gently holding your cute face. so soft. your eyes slowly open, brows pinched as you look at him. “why didn’t you text me?”

“didn’t wanna be a distraction,” your words laced with tired sarcasm.

toji drops his head, letting out a sigh. “seriously?”

“seriously, what?” you snap, sitting up on your elbow.

“it’s not a big deal. I was stressed,” toji’s hand drops on the mattress, as he rubs his eye.

“whatever,” you didn’t even want to bother anymore. you turn over, not wanting to talk to him, but the grip on your shoulder told you otherwise.

“you’re not done talking,” he looks at your pinched expression, clearly pissed off. “what do you want me to do? apologize?”

“you’re such a dick sometimes,” you push his hand away from you. “I was trying to support you, and you don’t even care.”

“I do care!” he groans, why is this so difficult for him? “I just don’t need every dude with a fucking dick, hitting on you—“

“do you not trust me?” you’re practically glaring, which toji hates.

“stupid ass question,” he huffs, standing up. “you don’t think I trust you?” he’s pulling off his dirty clothes, tossing them to the side.

“no I don’t think so,” you sit up, face hurting from how long you’ve been frowning.

“then you’re causing problems for no fucking reason!” he slams the bathroom door, causing the entire room to shake.

“dick,” you mutter, biting your cheek as you hug your legs.

the cold shower was honestly what he needed. once the freezing water hit his back, it ultimately cooled his heated mind. what the fuck did he just start?

“sweetheart?” toji dries his face as he steps out the bathroom. immediately noticing the empty bed. “fuck me.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” toji is pressing his face in your neck, big body hugging your small frame as the steam from the shower slowly slips out. you don’t answer, just twisting the knife even deeper. you were angry, still. “are you gonna come tomorrow?”

you squirt some moisturizer on your fingers, before rubbing it on your face. his chin rests on your shoulder as he watches you through the mirror. if only his fans saw how much of a baby he gets when you give him the silent treatment. he could almost cry right now.

“y/n, please,” his arm squeezes your middle tighter, his beefy arms completely latched onto you as you don’t even bother to meet his gaze. “i need you there.” he mutters quietly. he was so tired, so when you ignore him again he decides to pull himself away.

your heart clenched. were you being too mean? you crawl onto the bed after getting dressed, he’s already asleep. his chest rising and falling as he kept his arm outstretched, an unconscious habit once you started dating, the invitation for your body to snuggle into him, always there.

your fingers gently caress his cheek, sitting beside his chest as you watch the deep even breaths. he always looks so peaceful. his body exuded warmth, practically seducing you into his arms. you wondered if he’ll be alright. yes, you were giving him the cold shoulder, but that didn’t mean you didn’t care.

especially with his habit of fucking you. was he going to be alright. it wasn’t impossible for him not to fuck before a match, but if he didn’t, it usually made him more aggressive in the cage. a couple warnings from the referee was not uncommon.

your lips softly pressed against his, eyes closing as you felt his own lips push back. your heart skipped a beat…he always has this effect on you.

his arm snaked around your waist, laying you down as he immediately hugged your middle, letting your inviting arms hug his shoulders as you caressed his hair coaxing him to sleep.

the moment was so intimate. you almost forgot you were still angry with him. however, toji most certainly did not forget. especially as the stadium erupted in cheers and applause as the fans awaited their fighters.

you sat in the front row. of course you came, you knew how much he’s been training. this silent treatment shit was not going to stop you from still supporting him….but….you felt your heart ache for a moment….it still felt like shit. felt like shit when he wouldn’t acknowledge what you do for him—

“y/n,” tojis manager, shiu’s hand suddenly brought you back.

“what—“

“can you come with me?” shiu was already dragging you up, holding your shoulder as he escorted you.

“what’s wrong?”

“he won’t stop asking for you,” shiu was stressed, clearly. it was less than half an hour before the match, what could possible be wrong with toji?

“did something happen??” you’re suddenly panicking, moving quickly down the hallway. what’s wrong? is he injured? does he feel sick?

“I don’t know, he’s not answering anyone,” you’re bursting into the locker room, eyes immediately falling onto the fighter sitting on the bench, hunched over, face in his hands.

“toji?” you’re immediately leaning down, your hands carefully on top of his as you try to speak. “what’s wrong—“

“everyone out,” toji snaps, his team all looking at one another panicked.

“toji we need to get you ready—“

“everyone fucking out or I’m not doing this match!” he shouts, startling you, but you look over at shiu nodding your head. trying to give them some kind of reassurance.

“we’re waiting outside,” shiu rubs his face, as he closes the door behind the last person. your attention now shifting back to your boyfriend.

“is everything oka—“ his lips suddenly crash into you. fingers firmly holding your jaw as his tongue slips into your mouth. you’re completely caught off guard, hands holding his wrists, whining as he pushes you against the lockers, arm wrapping around your waist pressing you firmly into his chest—

“toji!” you gasp, breath heavy as you meet his gaze. “what’s going on—“

“I do need you,” he groans, aggressively shoving his shorts down to allow his very erect cock to spring out, pre cum leaking out of the tip as he kisses your lips. “don’t ignore me again, i fucking hate it!” he bites your bottom lip, causing your voice to crack, whining. “answer me—“

“toji, they’re outside—“ but he’s already pulling your panties off, lifting your skirt as he drags his fingers through your folds.

“I trained this pussy so well,” he groans, kissing your lips. “ya get so wet just from kissin’ me,” he smiles, knees kicking your legs further apart as you whine, trying to hold his shoulders for balance.

“you never apologized,” you turn your cheek away, disconnecting his lips from yours as you try and catch your breath. “I came here to support you, but that doesn’t mean I forgive you,” your jaw clenched, trying to hold your composure, only to yelp as you felt his teeth sink into your neck.

“you’re pissing me off,” his fingers pushed into your pussy, your walls sucking him as you let out a strangled moan, the squelching wasn’t helping you either. “still have something to say?” he snaps, sucking bruises along your neck and shoulder as he pumps his thick fingers in your pussy, proud of himself as he hears the squelching start to trickle down his fingers.

“toji—“ you’re biting your hand, muffling your moans as your face heats up. so embarrassed that this is happening and you couldn’t even push him away.

“did I cover your mouth?” his words echo as he pins your wrist over your head. “you like talking, so lemme hear you.”

“no—ah ah…they’ll hear me—“ your desperately trying to keep some dignity, but it all leaves the moment you feel your body being lifting in the air.

“you’re such a baby,” he laughs, eyes dark and lips curling, because this was not your toji, no. pre-match toji was a whole different person. he could not afford a single warning or a threat of disqualification in this match.

“I’m not, you’re just a dick—“

“what else?” he can’t help the heat rushing south as he hears your fueled words. suddenly pumping blood into his veins, and his dick.

“you’re mean, and you take me for granted. you don’t apologize unless I ignore you—“ toji groans, as he pumps his hefty cock to your words, still able to hold your up, as he aligns his pulsing cock with your dripping wet folds.

“how mad are you baby?” he’s practically panting.

“fuck you,” and that’s all he wants because he’s dropping you down, shoving his entire dick inside until your eyes burst with tears feeling his thick trimmed hair tickling your clit, completely bottoming out.

“fucking took out my eardrums, puppy,” he’s laughing in your face as he pulls his hips back and shoves his cock inside you again. you were completely dazed, that moment he sank his full length deep in your tummy, your brain automatically turned to mush. he usually took his time when it’s the night before a match, but there was no time now. so he couldn’t hold himself back as he let you take it full force.

you were an absolute mess, crying and letting out broken moans as he pumped his hot cock in your tight hole.

“can’t talk anymore? thought you had so much to say, pup?” he’s sucking your lips, smiling at how swollen and used they’ve gotten as he picks up the pace. the lewd echoes bounced off the walls, your body burning from embarrassment, but it didn’t matter—

“to-toji….do ah hahh you….uh uh..need me?” your eyes were filled with tears as you held his hair, fingers rubbing against his scalp, the other digging into his shoulders as you drooled. such a mess in such a small time.

“of course I—ungh do,” his teeth pull at your bottom lip. kissing you over and over as he draws near his climax. your nails can’t help but dig into his shoulders, pulling at the skin as you feel bite at your neck. “you’re my biggest fucking fan, and I’ll always need you,” his jaw is clenching as he feels your pussy spasming around him. “you cummin’ pup?”

“mhm? ahh— mm oji!” he grips your ass, fucking you faster as he feels his balls tighten. you’re drooling into his lips as he opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out, groaning as he feels your spit rub inside his mouth. such a filthy girl. you were creaming so fast, squeezing the hell out of his cock as your eyes grew.

“too much…ahhh—wait!” the lockers were shaking as he drove his cock, balls slapping your wet pussy as your legs shook.

“you’re everything, y/n,” your cheeks flare, you loved when he called you nicknames. but when he moans out your name, you can’t help the butterflies that break out. “I love you, so much,” his head tilts back as he shoves his hips deeper in, releasing warm globs of white cum into your warm pussy.

“don’t….ignore…me,” he sighs, thrusting more as you bite your lip, tears sliding down your cheeks as you feel the last bit of his heavy load finally come out as he pulls out. he still holds you up, pumping his cock to release the excess amount of cum on your nasty pussy.

“goes both ways,” you cup his cheeks, bringing him to your lips, smiling as he caresses your ass, giving it a firm slap.

you stumble on your feet, going over to the sink to rinse yourself down there. grabbing a towel—

“keep it in,” his lips nibble at your neck as he runs a hand down between your legs cupping your pussy. your cheeks sting, feeling his big fingers scoop at his cum and shoving it back in, your hand falling to his thick forearm as he pats your cute tummy with his other hand. “you’re my good luck charm, sweetheart,” he licks the bruise on your neck, dropping to his knees to kiss your pussy.

you almost whine, watching him smile up at you, desperate to hold in your composure, especially when he gives you a wink covering your cute little pussy with your panties, and giving it a cute kiss again.

your face was red as he called the team back in. no one said a word about what they obviously heard, especially with the way they avoided looking at you, specifically since toji was staring daggers at them for even asking you if you needed some water….I mean considering what they heard…

once they finished wrapping his gloves, shiu was escorting you back to your seat—

“y/n,” the soft call, immediately had your head turning. eyes so bright as he smiled…a gentle tug, that had your heart skipping a beat. “I am sorry.”

you can only nod, trying to keep your smile from taking over. “i know,” and so does he. all you wanted to know is that he felt remorseful, something that will acknowledge what he did and that he’ll do better, because that’s all you can ask for.

you definitely were a good luck charm. the moment the bell rang, announcing his win, the audience was going batshit crazy. people screaming, and cheering as flashes from photographers blinded the stadium.

everyone already knew his routine. it was even more gossip and cheers when they noticed the marks on his back—

pushing past the cameras and the annoying speakers, until he was jumping down from the cage and letting you leap into his arms, lips latching onto his as he held you up. the matching bruises was definitely something for twitter to run with.

“you liked it?” he muttered against your lips, only for your ears.

“ya! you always look so cool!” you gush, your cute smile sending his heart swelling, your words always hitting him. “I love seeing you fight! but you can be so mean.”

“how so?” he raises a brow.

“some rounds they can’t even catch a break,” you empathize.

“that’s the point, baby,” his hand unconsciously rubs your back, settling you down as you talk to him. your fingers unconsciously caressing the nape of his neck, careful of his own bruises.

“nuh-uh, the point is to have fun….and win—but like you know what I mean,” you roll your eyes, only to look back at toji hearing him laugh. your own lips curling into a smile.

“I guess so,” he dips his head, lips pressing to your warm cheek. “i just need you here to remind me.”

his arms wrap around you, lips brushing yours. “just stay with me…” his kiss was soft. “I’ll be better…just for you.”

he will. unless he wants to loose you. he can change for a princess.

just smt ab mma toji😫 so toxic but so sweet🥹

“IMPENDING DOOM” SHAO KAHN X FEM!READER

SUMMARY : You are an Earthrealm warrior. Shao Kahn challenges you. He will stop his attack on Earthrealm if you win the fight against him. If you do not, you will marry him and become his bride. (Spoiler alert, ya dumbass loses) also plot change, you save Kung Lao at the tournament so bro doesn’t die. Hurray for you! (This is also one of my favorite things I wrote and idk why)

A/N : Also Shao Kahn >>> General Shao. But also side note HOW DID KUNG LAO DIE IN MK 9 LIKE DID THEY NOT SEE SHAO KAHN WALKING UP BEHIND BRO????

A/N : Also on the note, I feel like in my personal opinion, y’all characterize Shao Kahn wrong. I feel like if Shao Kahn were to have a lover, he’d actually be more gentle with them and treat them like a goddess. Just because he’s a bad guy doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a soft spot. Like he has one for Sindel, Mileena and Skarlet so I would just assume he would have one for his lover

A/N : Also ALSO this is written more so like for the reader to be curvy/chubby but you can imagine her not being that way if you please

WARNINGS : (MDNI)! f receiving, breeding kink, slight dirty talk, some praise, unsafe p in v, insecurities

Here’s part 2

MASTERLIST

You couldn’t stand him. He was so smug about the whole ordeal. The truth was you didn’t know if you guys would win. Johnny was already down so now that was one less warrior.

Liu Kang went to try and free Kitana. You just stood there and impatiently watched the scene.

Shao Kahn however couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He had met you previously and became rather obsessed with you. He claimed you would be his soon enough. He would stand by that claim too.

Kung Lao had defeated both Shang Tsung and Quan Chi. It had been surprising. Sure, Kung Lao was an excellent fighter but those two were excellent sorcerers.

That’s when you saw it. Shao Kahn walking up behind him. “No!” You were the closest one to him. You immediately grabbed Kung Lao and switched him over to behind you. You then kicked Shao Kahn with your flying kick so hard that it knocked him down.

Gasps were heard. At this point, Liu Kang had freed Kitana. You went over and helped Kung Lao up. “He was going to kill you.” You informed him.

Liu Kang helped Kung Lao up a little and brought him closer to him and Kitana. You looked at Shao Kahn, awaiting for his reaction.

He does not react the way you expect him to. A low dark chuckle erupts from his throat. He is amused.

Shao Kahn stands up from the ground. You can see the intimidating look he gave behind his mask. “I like women that have fire.”

You rolled your eyes slightly. Shao Kahn had been trying to use his advances on you since he had met you and of course, none of it worked. “You’re done, Shao Kahn. You’re just mad that Kung Lao best you. Don’t be a poor sport about it.”

“Poor sport? Care to make this interesting?”

“What are you going on about?”

Shao Kahn started to circle you and by instinct, you circled with him. He stared you down from your head to your toes. “Fight me. If you can best me, I will attack Earthrealm no longer.”

You were surprised. He would stop attacking Earthrealm just like that? What you didn’t understand was why he was willing to take that kind of risk. You may be no Liu Kang but you were one of Earthrealm’s top defenders. The best female fighter.

“Just like that?” You questioned not believing the tyrant.

“Just like that.” He confirmed with you.

You looked him up and down, trying to figure him out. “That doesn’t make any sense. You’re already trying to conquer Earthrealm. So what more do you want? What do you want if I were to lose?”

Shao Kahn had a deep chuckle at that question. He was waiting for you to ask him that. “It’s very simple. You will marry me and become my Empress. I need a strong, well put together woman and you are exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

You actually couldn’t believe it. You would have to marry Shao Kahn if you lost? You stopped circling around him and Shao Kahn stopped as well. You were too shocked to speak.

You found your voice though and shook your head. “Fuck you.” You were about to walk away but the sound of his voice made you stop dead in your tracks.

“Afraid you’ll lose? That’s hilarious. You’re one of Earthrealm’s strongest fighters and even you believe you cannot best me? Pathetic.”

You absolutely hated him because he knew how to push your buttons. You turned back around to face him. It was like you were almost accepting his challenge.

Liu Kang looked between the two of you before walking over to you. He rested a hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N). Do not. He is not to be trusted. Even if you do win, he most likely will not keep his end of the deal.”

“I am a man of my word, Earthrealmer.” Shao Kahn stated as if he was almost offended Liu Kang would even suggest that. “Come on, (Y/N). I say it’s a win win. Saving Earthrealm or marrying me? What could be better than that.”

You scoffed at his cockiness. You turned your attention to Raiden, seeing if he approved with what you were about to do. Raiden seemed unsure but he nodded for you to do whatever you had to do.

Turning your attention back on Shao Kahn, you took some steps forward. “You gonna buy me a pony if I win?” You couldn’t help but sarcastically say.

Shao Kahn chuckled. Oh, did he love your nature. You had a lot of bark for someone that was an Earthrealmer. That’s what intrigued him so much. “Oh, I will give you more than you can imagine.”

You rolled your eyes slightly but did not say anything. You took your fighting stance and Shao took his.

Instantly, you started with offense. You punched, kicked, and continued this pattern and Shao blocked every hit you tried to connect.

You were very confused because Shao did not try to be offensive with you. He was on defense. This pattern continued for some time until you gave him a great big push.

When you did so, he did not react to it. You tilted your head at him. “Why are you going easy on me?”

“I prefer my Empress to not be so bruised up.”

That’s when Shao started to turn into offensive mode and you were on your defense. He swung his hammer at you about a thousand times and you ducked every hit.

Shao Kahn punched you in the gut and then kicked you in the stomach. You fell down on your back.

You felt the wind get knocked from you. You had to regain your composure quickly. You moved to the right when he tried to stomp you while you were on the ground. Then you swept his feet and he had fallen on the ground.

Shao Kahn groaned in pain. You smirked to him. Shao did not give up easily in the slightest. The Emperor got up and charged at you.

You ducked every hit that tried to come in contact with you. Every blow he tried to throw it did not connect. Until one of the eventually did.

His right fist connected with your face. You fell to the ground instantly.

Shao Kahn felt slightly bad. Your lip was bleeding and it looked pretty bad but he could not show it. You felt your lip as blood leaked onto your white shirt.

You got up and stood your ground. He was impressed to be completely honest. Most female Earthrealm warriors would’ve cried or backed out by now. Not you. That’s why he liked you so much.

You went to kick at his stomach but Shao moved out the way. He went to hit you in your chest but you blocked his movement. Finally, you landed an uppercut and it made Shao Kahn stumble back a bit. This time Shao was bleeding a little.

Shao felt his nose and nothing but a smirk came on his lips when he saw the blood trickle down his finger. It was your turn to be surprised. You knew he was sadistic but you did not know he would enjoy you hurting him.

With you being distracted, Shao hit you in the chest with his left fist and then kicked you in your stomach, making you fall to your knees.

Shao backhanded you and you fell to the ground. You groaned in pain. Usually Shao would kick his enemies while they were down but he would not do that with you.

He picked you up by the shirt and saw your weakened condition. “Say it.”

You didn’t want to but he was stronger than you. You felt as though you failed everyone. You could not believe that he had actually beat you.

You were too weak to go on and everyone knew that after seeing the fight. You signed some and made sure not to look at him in his eyes. “I concede.”

Shao Kahn smirked. He helped you to your feet and helped you stand properly. Shao wiped the blood that was leaking from your mouth.

The blood was on his fingers. Shao Kahn placed the fingers in his mouth and sucked the blood off. You looked at him a bit disgusted by his action.

“The tournament will be paused.” Shao Kahn told the Earthrealmers. “I have a bride that needs to get ready.”

You tried to hold back your eye roll. Shao Kahn made Quan Chi open up a portal and Shao Kahn made you come through it with him.

Shao Kahn had some business to attend to before handling you so you were sent to his room. You actually could not believe how big his room was.

You walked further into the room. The bed was the biggest thing about the room. He had a full wardrobe, a big shower and bath and big windows.

The room was dark. Not in the lighting sense but the color. It was red and black. You were not surprised by this in the slightest.

A knock was on the door. You didn’t know if you should even say ‘come in’ because well this was just now your room. “Come in?” You questioned more so then said.

A woman that had looked just like Kitana but had tarkatan features entered your room with clothes. “Father, said to give you these.”

You had realized that this was Mileena. You carefully took the clothes out of her hands. “Thanks.”

“I’m so excited! I will have a mother finally! Father, says you are a strong woman. I don’t quite see it but I believe in his intuition.”

You didn’t know if you should’ve been offended or not. You also felt a little bad. Usually, you had a pretty good tell if people were evil but Mileena didn’t really seem like she was evil to you. “Your father is an annoying tyrant and I cannot stand him.”

Mileena laughed a little. You had to admit, it was a bit unsettling. “Father said you would say something like that. We’ll be a family shortly, dear. Do not worry.”

That bad feeling came back to you. Mileena seemed to be desperate to have a family and you could understand that. From what you were told, she was Shang Tsung’s experiment so she most likely did not have a sense of identity. “Hopefully I don’t claw my eyes out in the process.”

“I’ll let you get changed.” Mileena left the room, leaving you there.

You changed into the outfit. It was a long fitted red gown with lace attached to the back. The problem was that it showed off your stomach and you were a little bit on the chubbier and curvier side.

You sighed a little then looked down to realize that your thighs also did the same thing. The clothing wasn’t too revealing. (Surprisingly for Shao Kahn’s taste) but it was revealing in all the places you did not want it revealed.

The door opened and closed. You turned to look to see Shao Kahn had stepped in. He was about to say something but he stopped in his tracks when he saw you.

You were the most gorgeous woman in all of Outworld to him. Hell, even in all the universe. He mentally thanked himself that he put you in that outfit because god, to him, it was doing you a lot of good.

“You look breath taking, My Empress.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the mirror. “Cut the shit.” You told him and he laughed. “What is so funny?”

“Your Earthrealm language is amusing.”

“I’ll show you amusing.” You more so mumbled under your breath. Shao Kahn heard you but he chose not to say anything.

Shao Kahn had placed his things on the table next to you. When he did, he saw you staring at yourself in the mirror. He noticed the looks you were giving yourself. “Stop looking at yourself like that.”

You didn’t bother to look at Shao Kahn. You kept your eyes glued to the mirror. “Like what?”

“Like you don’t appreciate what you are seeing.”

You didn’t respond to him. You continued to stare at yourself in the mirror, trying to convince yourself that the outfit looked good on you. You couldn’t get with it. “It doesn’t flatter me.” You told him truthfully.

Shao Kahn did not understand what you meant. “What do you mean?”

You gave him a look like he should know. You pointed to your stomach that was sticking out. “Do you not see this? I look like I’m pregnant.”

Don’t play into that because the thought of getting you pregnant drove Shao Kahn crazy. Shao Kahn stood behind you. He grabbed onto your stomach and gave it soft rubs despite his hands being so large and rough. “This is a body of a woman.”

Shao was in love with your curvy body. With all parts about you. Your stomach, your thighs, and definitely your ass. He was obsessed with every part of you.

You were surprised at how good his hands felt on your body. You wanted to fight it but you had given into his rough touches.

Shao Kahn started to rub all over your body and massage you. Your back, your neck, your stomach, your arms. He was rubbing everywhere he could rub. “This is a body of my Empress. I would not have you any other way.”

You were severely confused. Severely. Shao Kahn was a tyrant that only cared for his goals and his pleasure but here he was, rubbing you down, talking to you sweetly and making you feel good about yourself.

You slightly moaned at his touches. His hands felt like the Elder Gods themselves. You didn’t want the feeling of his hands all over you to stop.

But you had to snap yourself out of it. You hated this man. He ruined you. He was taking over Earthrealm as he was doing all this for you.

Shao Kahn was not a good man.

You broke out of his hold and pushed him back. “For the record, I did not enjoy that. I am just touched starved.”

He chuckled a little at your statement. He knew you liked it but he would play along into your bit for now. “Touch starved? When was the last time a man touched you like that?”

It felt like never to be honest. “None of your business. Now give me my space.” You were again, surprised that Shao Kahn had listened.

You touched the veil that went over your hair and it was long, down to your back and to the back of your legs.

“That Earthrealmer seems fond of you.” Shao said, breaking the silence.

You were confused as you fixed your earrings. “Who? No one is fond of me.”

“Liu Kang. I see the way he looks at you.”

You rolled your eyes a little at that but still didn’t look at him. “He’s just my friend. He just cares about me. Not that you would know about the caring for someone department.”

Shao Kahn watched as you put your earrings on. He honestly wanted to push your buttons. He found it extremely amusing. “Soon, I will have my victory. And I’ll kill him. He will be burned by his own fire.”

The statement pissed you off to no end. You couldn’t control your temper. You turned around to face him and you slapped him across the face, hard. You almost knocked his mask off.

Shao Kahn did not show you a reaction. You were waiting to be slapped back. Waiting for him to try and maybe beat on you mercilessly.

What you didn’t know is slapping him across the face turned him on. In fact, he started to feel himself become erect.

You looked at him puzzled. “Aren’t you going to hit me back?”

“Now, why would I do that?” You didn’t respond to him. Shao Kahn’s hands went behind the back of your head and he fixed the veil on top of your head.

The two of you didn’t speak a word as he fixed it. You just watched him. You couldn’t believe it.

When he was done, he pulled away. “Meet me down in the dining hall for dinner.”

Shao Kahn walked out the room and closed the door. You just stood there in complete shock.

This was going to be interesting.

You decided that keeping Shao Kahn waiting wasn’t a good idea and you walked out of the room. You went downstairs all the way to where dinner was to be served.

There sat Shang Tsung, Quan Chi, Reiko, Mileena, and Reptile. You weren’t really intimidated by the sorcerers, Mileena, or Reptile but you were by Reiko because you had never met him.

They all stood from their seat and bowed to you. You gave them a look, weirded out. “What the hell are you people doing?”

“Showing respect to new Empress. Well almost Empress.” Shang Tsung stated simply.

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” You grumbled under your breath. You were about to grab a chair and sit down but Shao Kahn’s voice stopped you.

“You do not sit there.” He motioned for you to sit on the throne that was across from him. “You sit there.”

You looked to the throne and then back to him. “You people take these Outworld politics way too far.” You said before sitting on the throne. “For the record, I still hate all of you…besides Mileena.”

Mileena giggled at this. “You will learn to enjoy our company eventually, Empress.” Quan Chi told you.

“Yeah right. I’d rather have Sub-Zero freeze me to death then-“ Your statement was cut off when a servant set food on the table. When she did, you realized the meal was consistent of all your favorite foods.

You rose your eyebrows confused that he had knew this information and you looked back at Shao Kahn. “How did you know I like this?”

“I know everything.”

You looked back at the food and then back at him. “This does not earn you brownie points.” You lied to him, pointing your finger at him.

Shao Kahn smirked, knowing you were lying to him. He watched as you began to eat. When he did so, he noticed Reiko was staring at you.

You started to notice Reiko’s stare and it was making you a little bit uncomfortable. Especially because you didn’t know him very well.

Shao Kahn looked at you then turned his attention to Reiko. “Reiko. Do you like breathing?”

Reiko looked at the Kahn a bit confused at the question since the answer was obvious. He couldn’t have an attitude though when addressing him. “Yes, Shao Kahn.”

“Then I suggest you stop staring at her before I have to put an end to that.”

It was so bizarre to you seeing Shao Kahn stick up for you but you chose to block the feeling in the pit of your stomach out and continue eating.

When you were done, you were getting ready for bed. You wore a red nightgown and fixed your head up for bed. One thing you were not looking forward to is sleeping in the same bed as Shao Kahn.

You took your earrings off and were placing them on the dresser. You heard the bathroom door open and you saw Shao Kahn walk out with a towel wrapped around himself.

You were taken aback. First of all, you had never seen Shao Kahn without his armor. You never seen his face.

His face was very masculine. All the right areas were sharp. His nose was big and pointed down. His eyes were a dark red. As red as the color of blood. His head was round but chin was pointed down. Again, he had strong masculine features.

I mean, he was a big man but you did not expect for him to be that big. His chest stood strong and some scars were around his rib cage. Probably from fighting in kombat.

He looked so…good. So, good that you felt a pool of wetness come between your legs.

‘God. I really am touch starved. There’s no way I find a psychopath dictator hot.’ You thought to yourself.

Shao Kahn walked over to the mirror to examine himself. “You’re staring.”

Of course he knew you were. You scoffed and turned away from him. “Am not.” You tried taking the necklace off your neck. “I just never seen you without your helmet.”

Shao Kahn turned to you and smirked. “Is it something you like?”

“Hardly.” You lied.

Shao noticed you struggling to get your necklace off. He walked up behind you and his hands went to your neck. You released your hold on the necklace and allowed him to do it.

You felt himself press up against you. You gasped a little. Oh, he was big. Extremely big. You probably should’ve guessed since he was a big man but you still did not expect for him to be that big.

“Don’t act like you don’t feel it.”

Ugh, you hated his cocky self. “I’ve met men who had bigger.”

Shao Kahn chuckled knowing you were lying. “Sure you have.” He took off the necklace and placed it on the desk. He grabbed a pair of boxers and placed them on him.

Reality was starting to hit you. You were actually forced to marry this tyrant. You were going to be his wife. You were going to be Empress of Outworld. You were going to be on the same side as people you once found to be your enemies.

Shao Kahn started to lay in the bed. You turned to him with your hands on your hips. “So, when do you plan to marry me? I’d like to get this over with.”

“After I win the tournament.”

“Tuh. Who says you’ll win?”

“I am Shao Kahn. Kahn of Outworld. They will taste no victory.”

Everything within you hated him. You couldn’t understand why he was doing this. Why couldn’t he just leave Earthrealm alone? “You’re such a dick, you know that? You literally invaded Edenia and claimed it to be your own. You rule Outworld with an iron fist. Is that not enough? You need to take my home too?”

Shao Kahn didn’t speak. It was like he was contemplating on what he was going to say. The tiniest part of him felt bad but at the end of the day, he was a sadistic ruler. He did not care for anything else. “This is your home now.”

You shook your head. “If this is your way of winning me over, you’re pretty shitty at it.” You told him point blank.

After you turned off all the lights, you got into bed and faced the left side which was the opposite way so you weren’t facing him.

Shao Kahn knew you were mad but you would get over it eventually. He was Kahn of Outworld. You would want him. He also knew you. He knew you craved power just like he did. You just were better at hiding it. That’s why through out your entire stay, you did not throw a fuss at him taking care of you.

He knew you liked he was taking care of you. You just didn’t want to admit it because you didn’t want to be the bad guy.

Shao Kahn grabbed the blanket and laid it on top of you. His hand instinctively went to the inner part of your thigh so he could pull you closer to him but when he did, he felt how wet you were.

You mentally cursed yourself for being so turned on earlier. Shao was at your ear. His breath made the back of your hairs stand up. “Why don’t you let me take care of that.”

Before you could say anything, Shao’s hands were already on it. He pulled your panties down slightly and placed his fingers over your clit. Then he started to rub in circles.

You let out a deep moan that you felt like you had been holding in for the longest. Shao made sure to be more gentle because he knew he was heavy handed. He didn’t need to apply that much pressure to your clit because his hands were so big.

Shao Kahn kissed your neck as you let out a string of profanities. It was far more sensitive when he was rubbing it.

He had already been hard but you felt him grow even more and you didn’t believe it was possible for him to be that big. You felt his member grow on your ass.

This was a mistake. You would regret it. Absolutely would but at the moment you didn’t care. The way he was taking care of you now gave you more than enough reason to let him keep going.

You were surprised that he wasn’t eager to fuck you. He was taking his time making sure that you got all the foreplay that you needed.

Shao stuck his fingers in your pussy and started to pump in and out of you. His fingers were big so they worked well inside you.

You moaned even louder and started to move on his fingers to feel more of him. “I will show you how an Emperor takes care of his Empress.” Shao told you.

He removed his fingers from your pussy and licked all over them. You tasted so pleasant to him that he had let out a groan at the taste.

Shao Kahn took off his boxers. Then he got up and hovered over you. He took off your underwear completely and threw it on the floor. His dick slapped against your stomach. Just looking at him above you turned you on.

He picked up your legs and dragged you down to him so your pussy was right on his dick. Then Shao entered you. He made sure to enter you very slowly, knowing how big he was.

You let out the biggest moan and threw your head back. Shao moved very slowly in you, grunting at how good your pussy clenched onto him.

He filled you completely and you didn’t know whether you loved it or hated it. You moaned each time he thrusted in you. “Faster, please.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Shao Kahn went faster inside of you. Usually, he would go very rough and hard but he would do something different for your guy’s first time. (Yes, he was that sure in himself that this would happen again.)

“Oh my god. Yes. Oh my god. Shao.”

“That’s right. Scream my name. Let everyone know how good I’m making you feel.”

Shao Kahn watched as your stomach jiggled with each thrust. He licked his lips and felt all over your stomach. “Mine. All mine.”

You could barely form words. It felt like everything was becoming blurry. He buried himself inside you like you were the only woman he was interested in. Like you were the only woman in the world.

“No other man can have you.” Shao told you as he fucked you. You started to pant heavily. He wrapped your legs around his waist and started to pound even harder. “You will give me children. I will bury my seed in you.”

He was fucking you so good that him cumming inside of you seemed like the best idea in the world. “Oh shit. Oh shit. Yes. Yes.”

“That’s it. Take all of me. You’re so good.” The overwhelming amount of pleasure Shao was giving you was far too much. You started to cry. Shao noticed this and he brought his hand to your eyes and wiped the tears. “I know, my Empress. You can cum soon. Wait for me.”

You didn’t think that was possible. He was hitting in all the right spots. “Please don’t stop.”

Shao loved you being so needy for him. “Oh, I don’t plan to.” The sound of skin to skin contact and your moans filled the room. When he saw you were trying to cover you mouth to conceal your moans, Shao slapped your thigh. “Move your hand.”

You whimpered some but removed it. “I-oh-don’t wanna be-oh my god-too loud.”

“I do. In fact, I need you to be louder.” The way you clenched on him made him throw his head back. He started to become close.

Your nails dug into his arms and clawed at him until he was dripping blood. That only turned him on more.

Pants started to turn into high pitch shrieks. You were too close. You didn’t think you could keep it up much longer. “I can’t.”

“Aw, you’re doing so good though.” Shao Kahn pounded into you a bit rougher. “I thought you didn’t like me but look at you. You’re about to fall apart.”

You dug your nails in more harshly and he grunted at it. The pain felt too good for him. “Please, please, please. I’m so close.”

Talking to him was doing the job. “Oh yes.” He gripped your thighs tighter to keep you in place. He planned to cum inside you and he was going to accomplish that. “Make a mess on me. Cum on your Emperor.”

The two of you released. You squirted all over his chest. He came inside you hard. So hard you could actually feel it. You moaned loudly, screaming his name.

Shao kept going until he knew you were fully done. He slowly pulled out of you and then rubbed your stomach. “You were always mine but now you are indefinitely mine.”

You could not believe you just did that.

TO BE CONTINUED????

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N: Hey Shoto, you up?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shoto: Ok. I’ll be down in 5.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want it…so badly Y/N. Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s pretty expensive.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shoto: Typing.

Shoto: Did you…take care of things?

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

Shoto replies with a single word.

Shoto: Fuck.

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

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

Shoto: Goodnight Y/N.

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

End of Chapter.

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

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

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

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

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

XoXo, Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

❄️🔥THE ICYTHOTS🔥❄️

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

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he definitely listened something before LOOOOL

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3

Part 1: Linked Here | Part 2: Linked Here

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

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

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, hand job, lemon

Link to My Master List

You wake up slowly to the feeling of warm sunlight heating your face. Damn! You think, I forgot to close my blinds again before bed! This is a bit of a bad habit of yours – training has been so harsh lately, you often fall asleep before you can even begin to perform your nightly wind-down routine. The sun feels nice across your face, but it’s also a bit too warm and becoming borderline uncomfortable.

You sigh, too tired and comfy to get out of bed to adjust the blinds. Instead, you shift and roll over onto your other side. Unexpectedly, you bump into something hard and solid. You panic for a moment, unsure of what the obstruction could be. Did you get a new plushie recently? Begrudgingly, you flutter your eyelashes and let the soft early morning light hit your eyes.

Oh, shit. Shoto Todoroki?!

Memories of the day before come rushing back in a stampede – moments in time tripping over each other as your brain scrambles to assemble a map of how you got into your current situation. You quickly remember the kiss, Endeavor’s bombastic arrival, the lonely library, and Shoto’s late night confessions. Your cheeks heat up as you recall how quickly your clothes had melted away as things with Shoto had turned hot and heavy.

You look up into Shoto’s soft face. He’s tucked in on his side, his face buried into your pillow. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look so relaxed. His pale skin and angelic features seem to sparkle in the morning light. You think back to all that he had confessed to you the night before – his troubled childhood, his estranged parents. You reach out to stroke his face, tucking a lock of bright red hair behind his ear. He sighs in his sleep, leaning ever so slightly into your gentle touch. Your heart squeezes. This poor, beautiful boy’s life has seen a deficient of kind touches.

You scoot closer to him in the bed, reaching out to gently wrap your arms around your sleeping classmate. He leans into you, unconsciously welcoming the embrace. He yawns softly and seems to wake up a bit.

“You’re so soft.” He moving to get a better hold on you, his large hands moving to cradle your hips. He smiles into your shoulder and pulls you into a more comfortable position, planting a sleepy kiss on your collarbone. He rubs a gentle, comforting circle into your lower back as he drifts back off to sleep.

You spend a few moments carding your fingers through his dual toned hair, listening to his gentle breathing. You notice the way that the hand on your lower back is slightly hotter than the rest of his body, and how great it feels against your training-stiff muscles. You feel your body relax into the touch. The hand resting on your hips, however, is refreshingly cold. You wonder if Shoto has ever thought to use his quirk for healing – his gentle touch is perfect for treating angry muscles and exercise injuries. He’d be an amazing physical therapist.

Your tired brain envisions a sexy doctor version of Shoto – tall and grown, a stethoscope draped around his strong shoulders. He will be such an amazing hero, but you wonder…if Shoto had experienced a normal childhood, would he aspire to be something different? There is so much potential in him - if his father hadn’t pressed so much on him, would he still want to be a hero?

You noodle on this question as you drift back to sleep, your body relaxing into Shoto’s temperate hands.

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

Your alarm blares at 6 o’clock AM, jolting you from a sound sleep. You’re still wrapped up in the cocoon of Shoto’s strong arms, his face nuzzled into your chest.

Carefully, you extract an arm and reach to switch off the alarm. You gently wriggle out of your classmate’s warm embrace. You slide off the cozy bed and pad across the carpet to your desk, stopping to take a long sip from your sticker-covered water bottle.

You grab a small hand mirror from the shelf above your desk and use it to examine your face – you’re surprised to see that even after the late night spent talking with Shoto, you look well-rested. Your hair, however, tells a different story. Your bedhead is absolutely out of control, and you grab a brush to quickly tame it. Once the knots have been brushed out, you throw your hair up into a loose ponytail and turn back to face your bed.

Shoto must be a deep sleeper, because in the 5 minutes it’s taken you to tame your hair he still hasn’t stirred. He’s wrapped up in your comforter, looking warm and comfortable. You hate that you’ll have to wake him soon for class. Begrudgingly, you move towards the bed to get him up.

“Shoto…” You coo quietly, hoping to rouse him gently as you pull down the comforter. “It’s time to get up - ” You stop midsentence as your eyes run their way along Shoto’s body. He’s resting on his side, his white hair splayed across your pillow. His expensive looking sweatpants hang from his muscular frame in a way that’s so sexy that you take a mental photo to revisit later. But what’s really got your attention is the way that Shoto’s baggy sweatpants gather and pull around his prominent morning wood.

You bite your lip as you take in the image – Shoto’s hard dick is outlined perfectly against the grey fabric. Fuck. You’ve never seen a penis this close before. Even through Shoto’s loose fitting pants, you can tell he’s big. The soft fabric doesn’t leave anything to the imagination – you can see the way his long shaft ends in a soft, mushroom-shaped tip.

You climb onto the bed to get a closer look, glancing up at Shoto’s face to ensure that he’s still fast asleep. You shift a bit and lean in, wondering if the hardness is uncomfortable. Your mind instantly goes into the gutter, and you remember how good it had felt the day before to grind against Shoto’s rock hard length. You feel a spark in between your legs at the thought. You imagine rolling Shoto onto his back so you can straddle him. It would be so easy to line up the tip of his cock with your clit and -

You shake your head to clear it of the absurdly horny thoughts that are flying around in your mind. You only have an hour and a half to get ready for class, and any sexual experiments you want to perform with Shoto are going to take time. You want to take this slowly! Maybe!?

You check the clock on your phone again. Maybe you can spare just a few minutes for some exploration? You’re almost certain that Shoto will agree. You set a quick alarm for 15 minutes from now before placing your phone back on the night table. You then shift a bit closer to the sleepy hero-in-training and reach out your hand to touch him.

Experimentally, you trace the very top of your fingertip along the length of it – from base to tip. You feel it twitch slightly as you reach the top, and break out into a grin.

You ghost your fingers across the outline of his cock a few more times, feeling it become harder with each pass. You’re so entranced by the outline of his thick member that you don’t notice when Shoto begins to stir.

He groans softly as you let your fingers wander across his dick again. His eyes flicker open and he blinks sleepily. You quickly snatch your hand away from his nether regions, blushing furiously at being caught.

“Sorry! I just…well, I couldn’t really help myself…” You trail off weakly, ashamed. He blinks at you, expression unreadable.

“You can keep going.” He says in a gravely voice. He reaches down to take one of your hands, and brings it back to his pants. “It would feel better if you gave it a firmer grip.”

“Oh.” You say, shocked at how cool he is with this. But then you remember that for as sheltered and formal as Shoto is…he’s also just a horny teenage boy. You let him position your hand and grasp. The material of his sweatpants is loose, and you are able to wrap almost your whole hand around his cock through the material. You tighten your hand ever so slightly around him and he turns his head to groan into the pillow. You lightly squeeze your hand again, this time moving your fingers down a bit.

“So…” You say somewhat awkwardly as you continue to feel him up through his pajama pants. “Did you sleep well?”

Shoto’s face is still buried in the fluffy pillow, but he cracks open an eye and looks back at you. He’s giving you a disbelieving look.

“You’re hand is on my penis…and you’re asking me how I slept? Don’t you think we should talk…sexier?” His voice drops an octave at the last word. You gulp.

“I’m new to this! I’m trying to be considerate!” Your fingers flutter nervously and Shoto lets out a soft, strangled sort of noise at the contact.

“Well I appreciate the consideration then. I slept well, thank you. This bed is very cozy. And you make a comfortable sleeping partner.”

You feel your face warm at the words. You drink him in – he’s got sleepy eyes and his body is the most relaxed you’ve ever seen it. You wish that you could stay in this bed with him for hours and just talk and touch and kiss…

Then you remember you’re on a tight timeline before class starts.

“Shoto…” You say, voice low. “I think it would feel even better if you let me go under your clothes.”

All Shoto can do is nod and look at you with wide eyes. You scoot closer to him, placing a hand on his chest so you can roll him over onto his back. He looks so beautiful like this – vulnerable and open.

“Mind taking these off?” You tug at the waistband of his sweats.

Shoto reaches down to slowly slip the waistband down his narrow hips. His erection springs forward – hard and beautiful. You take him in – his cock is longer than you expected. It has the same aristocratic pale skin as the rest of his body, becoming the tiniest bit darker at the tip. He looks like he’s carved from marble – all muscles and smooth pale flesh. You marvel at the way that his cock stands at attention, settled stiffly against defined abs and a light red happy trail.

“Oh, Shoto. You’re gorgeous.” You smile in satisfaction as Shoto’s soft cheeks bloom red in reaction to your praise. You reach out and trace your finger up the base of his cock. The skin is silky smooth – not at all what you were expecting. You wrap your hand around his hardness and give it an experimental jerk. Shoto’s eyes close at the contact and his head falls back into your pillow with a quiet thud.

“Does that feel good?” You whisper, jerking at his dick again. All he can do is nod silently as you continue to fist his dick slowly. He moans a tiny bit when you focus your energies on his leaking tip. You roll the precum down his shaft, using it to lubricate your hand as you continue to run it up and down his cock.

Shoto looks like he’s in heaven – his expression is laced with pleasure and the muscles of his stomach and abs quiver with gratification as you work at him. He’s splayed out before you like a Greek god, defined pale muscles glowing in the early morning sunlight. You find your mouth is practically watering at the image. You lick your lips and take a beat to clear your mind. You’ve never known yourself to have any sort of oral fixation, but at this exact moment you can’t think of anything more appealing than taking Shoto’s cock in your mouth.

You lean down, mouth open and ready…

A sudden rapid knock on the door stops you in your tracks. You hear Mina and Hugakure being noisy on the other end.

“Y/N! Let’s gooooo!” Mina whines, continuing to knock. “You promised you’d help us get some training in before class!”

You tighten your grip on Shoto’s cock in surprise, he lets out a soft grunt in response.

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no!

You recall with a start that you had promised to go down to one of the training gyms with the girls to get in some early morning quirk training. Mina has been begging you to show her the Ultimate Move you’ve been developing, and Hagakure has been asking for some tips on her new light refraction move. You look over to your desk and see your navy blue UA gym uniform folded and ready from where you’d laid it out the day before.

Your eyes meet Shoto’s in a panic. He’s looking back at you with unabashed lust – his eyes half-lidded. You feel like he should be freaking the fuck out right now, but then you realize that your hand is still wrapped around his incredibly hard dick.

You think quickly, brain scrambling through a lusty haze.

“Mina! Toru!” You call out, hoping they can hear you clearly through the door. “I’m not feeling that well this morning – I’m sorry! Can we rain check and hit the gym tomorrow morning instead?”

A pause.

“Are you okay, girl?” Hagakure calls back, concerned. “Would you like us to come in and help you?

“No I’ll be okay! I think I just need to sleep in a bit, I have a bit of a headache from studying so late last night. I’ll see you in class?”

As you’re talking, you slowly start to stroke Shoto’s dick again. His eyes widen and he continues to hold your gaze with his intense mismatched eyes. You see him bite his lip hard to keep in a moan.

“Okay, but don’t be late for class Y/N! Besides – I have some hot gossip to share! You’ll never believe who has a crush on you!” Mina teases through the door. You feel Shoto twitch in your hand and you move to increase your pace. Who would have known he was such an exhibitionist?

“A crush on me!?” You call back in mock surprise, reaching out your free hand to cup Shoto’s cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into the gentle touch. “Well now I’m dying to know!”

“You’ll have to wait until lunch!” Mina warbles, carefree and completely unaware of the X-rated scene going on behind the closed door.

“Ugh fine!” You pretend to sound exasperated. Mina and Hagakure share their goodbyes and feel-betters through the door before leaving for the training gym.

“Drink some water, Y/N!” Hagakure advises you as you hear their footsteps recede down the hallway. You continue to work at Shoto’s thick cock, you’re practically salivating as you look down and revel the way he twitches under your gaze.

“They’re gone.” You whisper unnecessarily.

“Yeah.” Shoto takes a shaky breath. He lifts his hand to fold over your own against his face. His palm is warm against the back of your hand, and you can’t help but wonder at what he can accomplish with those long, capable fingers.

You grin, leaning in close to the half-hot half-cold hero-in-training so that your foreheads almost touch. You part your lips to let out the faintest whisper: “It’s just the two of us now…baby.”

Shoto’s breath hitches. The intoxicating combination of getting handsy in front of your classmates plus the unexpected term of endearment prove to be too much for poor Shoto, because he cums in an instant. You feel the orgasm roll through him, starting at the base of his balls and moving up through his dick as you stroke him through it. He lets out an impossibly soft moan as he watches sticky white fluid flow across your tiny hand.

You’re both a bit shocked at the sight – you’ve never seen a man cum before and it’s a little different from what you were expecting. You didn’t realize it would be so damn easy to send Shoto over the edge like that. You continue to stroke at him until he winces from overstimulation. He places a hand over your own in a silent plea for you to stop.

“I’m so sorry Y/N – um, do you have a towel or something? Sorry.” Shoto is tripping over his words as he searches desperately for something he can use to clean up the sticky situation. His forehead is creased in embaressment. You lean in and kiss him soundly, trying to shut him up.

“Hey, calm down it’s no big deal. My goal was to make you cum!” You spring up off the bed, holding your sticky hand aloft and at a distance from yourself as you walk to your closet. You quickly open the door and swipe a fluffy blue clean towel off of the top shelf and throw it in Shoto’s general direction. You avert your eyes as he wipes down his dick and stomach. You grab a clean washcloth to use on your own sticky hand.

“I’m sorry. I never imagined doing this with another person, let alone someone that I like and admire so much. It feels like I’m defiling you in a way.” Shoto says, a note of concern bleeding into his usually flat tone. You turn back his way to see him shimmy into his grey sweatpants with grace only a Todoroki can muster.

You laugh out loud at his word choice. “Shoto, if anything I’m the defiler and you’re the defilee. I literally woke you up by stroking your dick. Please do not feel bad about what just happened. It was a learning experience – and a damn hot one at that.” You waggle your eyebrows, attempting to break the tension. This draws a smile out of Shoto. You now notice that his cheeks are still flushed from his orgasm and his hair is 25% messier than usual. You move back to your desk and toss him a hot pink hair brush.

“Fix your bangs, hot stuff. Our classmates will definitely know that something is up if you show up to History lessons with that wild sex hair.”

“It’s not sex hair if we didn’t actually have sex.”

“What do you call what we just did then?”

Shoto pauses, unsure if you’re asking him a trick question.

“Well…sex is only when you have penetrative sex, isn’t it?” He asks tentatively, blushing.

“Actually, that’s not totally true! Sex can be defined a ton of different ways. The way we were taught sex growing up and in school is super black and white. Sex and sexuality are more of a grey area than anything else. Think of it more as a spectrum of sexual acts! There really aren’t any rules aside from needing to gain full consent from someone before you dive in.” You rattle off, regurgitating knowledge gained from years of scrolling on Tumblr and Scarleteen.

Shoto’s eyes widen a bit more with each sentence you blurt out, looking almost abashed. “I’m embarrassed to say I’ve never thought much about it. That’s a very new way of thinking for me. It sounds like I need to do some Googling.”

“We can talk through it more too. I can show you what I know so far and we can learn together.”

“I’d like nothing more.” Shoto says, his tone characteristically flat but tinged with warmth. You smile at him, reaching up to continue smoothing across his hair. The two-toned locks fall gracefully across his face softly. The early morning light bounces off his delicate skin in a way that just makes him glow. You appreciate the view for a moment, basking in the wonder of this boy and his perfect genes. After a moment you shake your head to clear your thoughts, realizing that there’s a more pressing matter at hand that needs your attention.

“Now let’s sneak you out of here. You want to go out the window, or…?”

No, Shoto does not want to climb out the window. He’s feeling shaky and unbalanced from his first partner-induced orgasm, and so he doubts that he’d be able to muster the coordination needed for an early morning fire escape climb. Instead, he has you poke your head out your doorway and confirm that the coast is clear before he rockets down the hall and back to his own dorm room. He waves over his shoulder at you as he goes, his face breaking into a rare grin as your eyes lock.

You smile to yourself as your alarm blares – the 15-minute timer you had set is up.

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

A half hour later you’re feeling refreshed in your recently pressed UA school uniform. You stride down the school halls with a spring in your step and a smug grin on your face as you replay the mornings’ events in your thirsty-ass brain. You made Shoto Todoroki cum with nothing but your hand! You giggle at the thought.

“What’s so funny, Y/N?” A light voice says brightly from behind you. You snap back to the present and whirl around to see Uraraka following closely behind you. You try not to blush.

“Oh, nothing! I’m just in a good mood today. The, uh, weather seems to be particularly nice.”

Uraraka’s smile falters a bit at this comment on the weather – it’s been a temperate 60 degrees for the past month with little variation. She looks like she suspects something is up. She raises an eyebrow and chooses her next words carefully.

“Are you and Hagakure cooking up some crazy secret party again?” She asks slowly, a suspicious look overtaking her cute features.

Back in the Fall there had been an attempt at throwing a raucous party behind Mr. Aizawa’s back. The underground hero turned teacher had been off campus for a rare overnight mission, leaving Mr. Vlad King in charge of both Classes A and B.

You and your dorm-mates had taken advantage of the lapse in guardianship to throw a party in the common room. Just as things had started getting interesting (Mina had somehow acquired a bottle of wine and was going to pass it around so that everyone could try a sip), Monoma had tattled to Mr. Vlad King about the party. Monoma’s jealousy surrounding Class 1A truly knew no bounds, and he was determined to ruin the boisterous event before it could even begin. Vlad King had shut down the party so quickly that your group had only made it through he third song on Hagakure’s “Class 1A Party Playlist.”

When Mr. Aizawa had returned, he had greeted your class with a long, disappointed lecture. You remember the way your cheeks had burned with embarrassment as he called out the party instigators: you, Mina and Hagakure. Following the failed party,  Aizawa had set a weekend curfew requiring Class 1A to be in their individual bedrooms by 10pm. The entire class was still furious about this – up until now they had enjoyed free reign over the common area at all hours of the night. Video game tournaments and late movie nights had been the norm. Fortunately, your classmates hadn’t really been too mad at you, Mina and Hagakare for planning the party. In truth, everyone had been looking forward to the secret event. Also, you and your friends had bought everyone dinner and lead tutoring sessions for a month in order to apologize for the new Aizawa-imposed curfew.

You bring yourself back to the present, realizing you haven’t yet answered Uraraka’s question.

“What!? No way! Although it’s been a few months since we last tried to throw a party under Aizawa’s nose…maybe he’s been lulled into a false sense of security, making this the perfect time to strike!” You fake an evil laugh and make a mental note to mention this thought to Hagakure and Mina at lunch. The three of you have been dying to re-attempt the illicit party. You had recently watched an old American 80s movie together and learned about an American game called “Spin The Bottle.” The three of you were longing to try it with your classmates.

“Nooooo don’t get us in trouble again!” Urararka looks horror-stricken at the mischievous gleam in your eye. “I miss our Saturday midnight movie nights! Mr. Aizawa said that if we all do well on the upcoming joint training session with Class 1B, he might consider lifting the curfew!”

You grin at her evilly. “I can’t help that I’m a chaotic force!” You cackle like a witch and rub your hands together diabolically, making Uraraka laugh.

“You’re so silly! If you do decide to throw another party…just pleaseeee don’t get caught this time.” She holds out her hands in a praying position, imploring you to avoid getting an earlier curfew slapped onto Class 1A.

“Deal.” You say as the two of you reach the door to your classroom. “And I think I have an idea of how we can make sure we don’t get ratted out this time around.”

“Whatever it is, leave me out of it!” Uraraka says, waving you away to your desk. “I have enough on my plate already between this month’s new combat training moves and our latest calculus test.”

You laugh and give her a thumbs up as you sit down at your assigned seat. You pull out your notebook and planner as the rest of the class slowly files in. Uraraka may seem like a goody two shoes, but you know that if there is a party, there’s no way in hell that she’d miss it. You know the gal well enough at this point to recognize that she would have FOMO to the max if she skipped an forbidden party (especially if a certain green haired classmate would be attending said party).

After a few minutes, Hagakare and Mina stumble into the classroom, both looking exhausted and a bit worse for wear.

“Jeez! What happened to you two!?” You ask as they both slump into their seats.

“Why does she look so well rested!?” Hagakare says suspiciously, pointing at you. She turns to Mina, a sharp edge to her voice. “Wasn’t she supposed to be sick?”

“I took some Advil.” You hum out.

Mina looks over at you, unconvinced. “Must have been some great Advil – you’re practically glowing.”

“I caught my second wind for the day.”

“Girl it’s only, like, 9 AM.” Hagakare says, her voice laced with fatigue. “And Mina and I just spent the last hour cooking up some special moves. It definitely took a lot more of our energy than we were expecting.”

“Any good developments?” You prompt, hoping to steer the pair away from discussing your supposed “sickness” in more detail.

“Hagakare’s light refraction technique is really coming along.” Mina chimes in, dumping her books unceremoniously on her desk and grabbing a hot pink fuzzy pen from her backpack. “And I’m working to increase the viscosity of my “Acid Man” move. It’s slow-going, but I think I’m on the right track.”

You beam at Mina, she’s been working so hard lately on her special move. She’s been trying to grab as many free hours at gym possible to spend more time practicing. 

“That’s awesome! I feel like you’ve made so much progress lately. I’m sorry again I wasn’t there.” You drop your voice down to a whisper. “Listen guys – I have something we need to discuss at lunch today. I think that it’s time to activate Operation: Spin The Bottle.” You waggle your eyebrows at them meaningfully.

“What!? Really?” Hagakare perks up, turning her body in a motion that clearly showed The Invisible Girl was trying to gauge the expressions on yours and Mina’s faces.

You shush her. “We’ll talk later at lunch!”

It crosses your mind that maybe you want to tell Mina and Hagakare about your…situation with Shoto Todoroki. They are your best friends after all – and you want them to giggle and gush when you recount the sweet words he’s said to you, and the way he’s kissed you so soundly that your head spins just thinking about it.

But, no. This is a private affair at the moment. Everything that’s happened so far should stay between you and Shoto until the two of you decide together that you want other people to be in the know about your canoodling.

Speaking of Shoto…your half-hot, half-cold classmate enters class right before the bell. It’s unusual – typically he’s in his seat and ready for class 10 minutes before. He looks well groomed – his uniform is perfectly ironed and free of any creases. His hair is brushed and perfectly styled. His mouth is set in its typical hard line as he crosses the room to take his seat.

You try not to let your eyes linger on Shoto for longer than is necessary. Some of your classmates are intensely perceptive, and you don’t want to give them any reason to suspect a romantic affair between you and Todoroki. You’re embarrassed by the way you’re drawn to him like a magnet – you actively need to will your head to stay turned towards the front of the classroom. He’s so devastatingly beautiful and you just want to stare and memorize the dip of his chin, the thin line of his cupid’s bow…

Mr. Aizawa enters the classroom and gives his students a dark glare.

“Good Morning, class.”

“Good Morning, Mr. Aizawa.” The class choruses back.

“Before we get started today, I have a quick announcement. I’ll be out of town this weekend for an undercover mission with a few other Pros. Nothing to worry about – but I will be gone all of Saturday and Sunday. Vlad King will be in charge of the class while I’m gone. He’s going to keep a close eye on you all in addition to his own class.”

You try to keep yourself from grinning – this timing is too perfect!!

“That being said…” He levels his gaze on you, Mina and Hagakare. “If I hear word of any of you causing trouble, there will be swift punishment. I’m not above lowering the curfew to 8pm on weekends.” He grins at the mass of horrified looks he gets in response.

“We’ll be good, Mr. Aizawa – we promise!” Sue calls out from her desk. Kirishima nods vehemently in agreement and Kamanari whispers, “I miss movie midnights.”

You try not to make eye contact with your friends so as not to give yourselves away.

“I’m expecting a stellar report about my class’s behavior when I return.” Mr. Aizawa scowls at the room at large before cracking open a textbook on the teacher’s podium. “Now let’s dive into our first lesson of the day.”

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

A few classes later, it’s finally time for lunch. You and the rest of Class 1A file into the hall and down to Lunch Rush, chattering about the latest assignments and Mr. Aizawa’s upcoming absence.

“Mr. Aizawa is so cool!” Midoriya gushes to Ida and Uraraka towards the back of the group. “I don’t know how he juggles being our teacher and a Pro. I wonder what kind of undercover mission he’s got planned that will only take the weekend.”

“It’s true!” Ida chimes in enthusiastically. “Mr. Aizawa is an incomparable hero – UA High School truly does not disappoint when it comes to its faculty and staff!”

You tune out the rest of their conversation and move forward to link arms with Mina and Toru.

“Can you believe that Mr. Aizawa is going away this weekend!?” You whisper excitedly to your two closest friends.

“For someone who woke up sick this morning, you sure are chipper.” Mina groans, rubbing at her tired eyes with her free hand. “I need some coffee before I can be excited about anything.”

“Agreed!” Toru sighs. “Mina - we pushed ourselves a little too hard this morning.”

You file into the cafeteria and get on line at one of the food counters. You grab a tray and scan the menu board above you to make your selection. The Food Hero Lunch Rush serves you up a few piping hot dishes that smell so incredibly delicious that your mouth starts to water.

“I’ll go grab us some seats!” You call over your shoulder to the girls, walking blindly in the direction of your usual table.

You’re not paying attention to where you are walking, because suddenly you collide with another student and you feel yourself start to tip backwards . Everything is suddenly moving in slow motion as you watch your lunch tray fly up into the air as you’re falling back, back, back…

You close your eyes and brace for the impact, your brain scrambles to remember the lesson Miss Midnight taught you about the proper way to fall and land without injury. But everything is happening so quickly and your panicking mind can’t seem to remember the lesson.

Suddenly – you stop falling. You feel a sturdy arm support your back, a warm hand cradling the back of your head. You slowly open your eyes and realize that it’s Shoto. Shoto caught you inches before you hit the ground and protected your head before you could hit the ground. After the events of the past 24 hours his touch feels familiar and safe. Your body instantly relaxes as he holds you.

You blink up at him in wonder, a soft zing of adrenaline pulsing through your veins. His eyes burn into your own with a fierceness you can’t quite decode. His gaze darts quickly to your lips and then back to your eyes. Oh, shit. He’s thinking about kissing you. Right here, right now. You’re in a cafeteria full of UA classmates, faculty and staff and yet all you can think about in this adrenaline-filled moment is throwing your arms around Shoto’s neck and bringing his mouth to yours. In this moment, all you see is Shoto and his fierce mismatched eyes.

“Y/N! Are you alright!? I’m so sorry! I wasn’t lookin’ where I was going.” You snap back to reality and center yourself. You’re in a crowded cafeteria at school. You bumped into someone and tripped. Your lunch went flying and is definitely laying somewhere in a sad, inedible pile. You look over Shoto’s shoulder and see that the person you bumped into was Honenuki from Class 1B, who is now furiously apologizing from behind Shoto.

“Oh my goodness, that was so clumsy of me! So sorry Honenuki!” Your face flushes in embarrassment as Shoto lifts you back onto your feet. His hand is burning, and you see that his face has a scarlet tinge to it as well. All you can think of right now is that just a few hours earlier, he was cumming in your hand. The way his eyes seem to widen a bit as he looks down at you confirms that he’s thinking about the same exact thing. You feel yourself getting turned on just thinking about it.

“Try to be more careful, Y/N.” Shoto mutters, his tone sounds almost angry as he turns away from you and begins to clean up your spoiled lunch off the ground.

“Thanks Todoroki – sorry about that, man!” Honenuki says as he steps forward to sizes you up and ensure there are no injuries. Shoto gives Honenuki one of his quiet nods of acknowledgement.

“I was so zoned out listening to my zen playlist, I didn’t even see you coming.” Honenuki says apologetically, pointing to his ear buds. “Sometimes the cafeteria gets a little overwhelming for me so I like to cancel out the noise with music. I guess I need to be a little more aware of my surroundings.”

“No harm done!” You say reassuringly, embarrassed as Shoto sweeps the rest of your lunch into the trash. He nods again at you both then walks back towards the table he is sharing with Midoriya, Ida and Uraraka. He doesn’t look back. For a moment, you feel a pang in your chest – could Shoto actually be mad at you? After such an intimate morning spent together, the silent treatment is the last thing you’d expect from him. But then again – this is Shoto. He’s not great at expressing his emotions, and he’s likely trying to keep up the appearance that the two of you aren’t close in order to preserve some privacy. You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming your nerves. Last night you were overthinking his text messages, and now you’re getting anxious about him literally saving you from a bad fall in the middle of the cafeteria. You repeat in your head that everything is fine, and if the way you made him orgasm this morning is any indication – Shoto is pretty smitten with you.

“Can I replace your lunch?” Honenuki asks, gesturing to the long line behind Lunch Rush’s food station.

“Oh, no, that’s alright!” You assure him, reaching into your pocket to grab your wallet. You flip open the small daisy covered case and realize there are no bills inside. Crap! You forgot to run to the ATM this morning before class. Your stomach rumbles audibly. You look up at Honenuki, your face burning.

“Come on.” He smiles (or you think he’s smiling. Born with a mutation that developed his face without lips, Honenuki has a permanent grin on his face) and nods towards the line. You follow him over and promise that you’ll pay him back the next day. He’ll hear nothing of it.

“It’s my fault your lunch ended up scattered across the cafeteria. No need to pay me back.” The two of you take up a place at the back of the long line, and you watch Toru and Mina grab seats at your usual table out of the corner of your eye. They’re looking over at you curiously, no doubt wondering why you’re chatting with Honenuki. You’ve met the Class 1B student on several occasions, mostly for joint training programs between Classes 1A and 1B, but you’ve never had the chance to speak with him 1:1. He’s always given off a cool, chill vibe that you find endearing.

“So what kind of music are you listening to?” You look up at him as he fiddles with his phone to decrease the volume of his ear buds.

“A lot of George Harrison lately. I’m really into 60s and 70s music right now.”

“I can send you some, if you’d like.”

“Oh – for sure!” You say cheerfully, always happy to make a new friend and hear some new jams. Honenuki seems really pleased with your answer for some reason.

“Here.” He holds out his phone, opened to the “contact” application. “Add your number. I’ll trade you – a song for a song.”

“Deal.” You say, punching in your digits. At this time, you’ve reached the front of the line where Lunch Rush replaces your spilt lunch with an equally yummy looking selection. You grab your fresh tray and move to walk towards your friends.

“Thanks Honenuki, I really appreciate it! And sorry again for being so clumsy.” You smile back at him before making a beeline for Mina and Toru.

“No worries, Y/N.” Honenuki waves as you scamper away. “And make sure you send me a good song!”

You slide into your seat with a sigh.

“What the heck was that!?” Toru shrieks, waving her arms around in a flurry of uniform sleeves.

“Looks like someone’s gotta crush on you, Y/N!” Mina winks at you and motions to Honenuki.

“Oh! Oh nooooo we were just talking about music. He bought me lunch to replace the one I’d dropped.” You say, embaressed.

“But you got his number, didn’t you!?” Mina claps her hands together. “This is absolutely perfect! We can try to rig spin the bottle so that you can kiss Honenuki!”

“How can you kiss someone without lips?” Toru muses aloud as she starts to dig into her lunch.

“Wow that’s pretty insensitive Toru!” You say admonishingly.

“No she’s got a point. We’ll need to strategize ahead of your big kiss with Class 1B’s chilliest student.” Mina grins deviously.

“Oh my God, drop the obsession with Honenuki! I promise I’m not interested in him that way. He’s just really nice!”

“Then who are you interested in, hmm?” Toru teases, pointing her chopsticks at the table across the room that holds Midoriya, Ida, Ururaka and Shoto. “Ida, perhaps?”

You and Mina laugh. “He’s not really my type.” You say kindly, glancing over at the table to watch Shoto take an elegant bite of soba. “I go more for a mysteriously handsome aesthetic.”

Mina gives you a Cheshire cat grin. “Ohhhh I know the perfect pairing for your spin the bottle partner then!” She cackles and you wonder if she’s figured you out. You glance again at Shoto and your eyes connect. You feel like a magnetic current is running between the two of you, pulling your energies together and bridging time and space.

“We all know who Mina’s ideal spin the bottle partner would be!” Toru declares loudly with a snort. “Mr. Tall Red and Handsome!” With her invisible hand, she gestures towards their left where Kirishima is wolfing down a bowl of rice next to a stoic looking Bakugo.

“Toru! Oh my God! Shhhh!” Mina waves frantically as she tries to quiet down your friend. It’s no secret amongst the three of you that Mina has been pining over her middle school classmate Eijirou Kirishima for the past year and a half. She’s been flirting with him and dancing around the edge of asking him out for months now.

“Oh yeah, Mina. What’s your game plan for when you get Kirishima for spin the bottle? Are you gonna kiss him…with tongue!?” You make a show of waggling your tongue at your friend and she gives you a mock look of disgust.

“Okay, so I know who Y/N is going to kiss and who I am gonna kiss…but what about you Toru? Who should we manifest for your spin the bottle debut?” Mina takes a delicate bite of her lunch as she poses this momentous question.

“The real question is…who won’t I kiss!?” Toru laughs almost maniacally, wiggling in her seat. It’s moments like this you wish you could see the expression on her invisible face – you’re sure it would be absolutely menacing. You and the girls laugh together and continue to babble about ideal “kiss” pairings across Class 1A.

“Oh! That reminds me! I’ve got piping hot tea to spill, y’all.” Mina pushes aside her empty bowl and leans on her elbows towards you and Toru conspiratorially. “Sero told me that he saw Todoroki sneaking back into his dorm room this morning.”

Oh, shit.

You scramble to compose your face into a look of shock – but not too shocked! Just the right amount of shocked! For a moment, you wish you had an invisibility quirk like Toru so you could mask your facial reactions.

“And you guys know that Todoroki is so by the book - he always abides by curfew. So where do you think he was!? Training? Studying? Having a covert love affair?”

Toru gasps dramatically. You almost choke on your rice at this last musing from Mina. From across the dining hall you see Shoto shoot you a look, clearly concerned. You avoid his stare and level your gaze at Mina. Her eyes dart over your face questioningly. “What do you know Y/N!?” She practically demands.

You push aside your rice bowl, taking a moment to compose yourself.

“Well…I saw his dad visit yesterday. Actually – I met his dad. It looks like he put Todoroki through training hell for most of the evening. I wouldn’t be surprised if he spent the night catching up on homework and studying since his dad took up all of his time yesterday.”

“You met Endeavor? The Flame Hero!?” Toru all but jumps out of her chair.

“Yeah, I did.” You try to keep it light on the details, no need to back yourself into a corner.

“What was he like!?”

You scowl, recalling all that Shoto had shared about his complicated relationship with his father the night before. Fuck Endeavor and his poor attempt at fatherhood.

“He seemed kind of like a jerk, to be honest.”

“That’s not surprising.” Mina chimes in. You’re relieved to see that she has moved away from the topic of Todoroki’s potential “covert love affair.” “A lot of what I’ve read about him online makes him sound like kind of an asshole. He’s not exactly known for being a warm and fuzzy hero with the way he interacts with the public.”

“That’s true – I heard that recently he saved a civilian from a factory explosion, then yelled at the man because he was wearing an All Might t-shirt.” Toru adds in a scandalized voice.

Mina snorts at this. “Inferiority complex, much?”

You laugh, finally back at ease. There’s no way any of them could find out about your illicit hookup session with Shoto. You two had so carefully covered your tracks. You snip and quip at each other for a few more minutes before you finally turn the conversation towards the most important topic at hand.

“Okay, girls. Let’s talk Operation: Spin the Bottle. How are we gonna get this secret party off the ground this weekend? What did we learn from last time?”

The girls latch onto the new conversation topic with fervor.

“I think we should make cute decorations!” Toru volunteers. “And we should remix our last party playlist to include the biggest radio hits from the past month.”

“Those are great ideas! I also think we should wait until Mr. Aizawa is officially gone before we start spreading the word about the party.” Mina says thoughtfully, sipping from her green tea drink. “As for our mistake the last time around…the biggest problem was Monoma.”

“Oh don’t worry – I have a plan to take care of him.” You say, rubbing your hands together like a cartoon villain.

“Oooo – Y/N, I love it when you get diabolical like this!” Mina giggles, sweeping her dirty dishes onto her tray and rising from the table. It’s time to go back to class for the second half of their school day. The three of you agree to chat through your plan in more detail later on.

You deposit your dirty tray at the correct receptacle before filing back to the classroom with the rest of your crew.

Ida, Midoriya, Uraraka and Shoto walk next to you in the halls. You and Shoto walk side by side, each immersed in conversations with your respective groups. Toru is explaining the latest makeup trends from Tokyo to you and Mina, while Midoriya and Shoto are deep in a conversation surrounding provisional licenses. You can feel the burning heat of Shoto’s body next to yours as you move through the crowded halls. It’s loud and chaotic as students bustle to and fro, rushing to their afternoon courses. For the briefest moment, you feel Shoto’s pinky brush against your own. You feel a shock of electricity run through you at the contact. You can’t help but smile. What a sweet little secret you have!

You file back into Classroom 1A and see that Mr. Aizawa is already stationed at the teacher’s podium, awaiting your class’s arrival.

“Alright, alright. Take your seats.” Mr. Aizawa says in a bored tone.

Izuku Midoriya raises his hand. He doesn’t wait for the teacher to call on him before he blurts out: “But sir – don’t we have combat training this afternoon?”

A murmur of confusion ripples through the class. Typically, this would be the point in the day when Mr. Aizawa would give you all access to your hero costumes and tell you to go to the locker rooms to prep for the combat portion of the coursework.

“Midoriya, please wait to be called on before addressing me in a classroom setting.” Mr. Aizawa reprimands quickly, but there’s no tone of annoyance in his voice. At this point in your academic journey with Eraserhead, you know that he’s just a stickler for rules and loves order.

“Sorry, sir.” Izuku squeaks out, sinking in his chair a bit now that he’s been called out in front of the entire class.

“That’s a good question. I realize that there’s an important lesson we’ve been neglecting to teach you here. Now that you’re living in the dorms, it feels more pressing than ever.”

Ida’s hand shoots up in the air at record speed.

“Yes, Ida…” EraserHead says in a bored voice.

“Sir, UA has such a strict and well-planned curriculum. What could possibly have been “neglected” by the faculty and staff?”

Aizawa smirks at Ida as if the young Engine hero has made a particularly funny joke. He looks out at the class and takes a deep breath before his next statement:

“This afternoon Recovery Girl and Midnight will be joining us as we discuss a crucial topic. I’m going to walk you through an Intro to Sex Ed.”

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

Here's Part 4

🔥Link to My Master List🔥

Thanks so much for reading - I hope you're enjoying the story so far. You all were so excited for an update, it spurred me on to write up this 20 page update! Holy Cow! The next chapter I have planned out is going to be super spicy and a little silly (I feel like you all have been digging that combo so far!?). Let's see what happens next to our dear Shoto x Reader pairing! 👀

Lol maybe I should come up with a better story name than "Shoto's First Kiss." When I started this as a one shot I did not expect this story to take off the way it did! Thanks again for reading and feel free to check out my other spicy works on The Master List pinned to the top of my blog!

XoXo, Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

Lost & Found part 8

(Quirkless AU ft.Todosiblings, big bro Touya and Dabihawks BUT IT’S COMPLICATED)

Part 7.2 I Part 7.1 I Part 6 I Part 5 I Part 4 I Part 3 I Part 2 I Part 1 I

~ Sweet Lavender Sunshine ~

This is for @scarlettriot and @silverhairsimp ‘s roommate collab! Make sure to check out the other collab pieces, as they’re all so good so far!

Beta’d by the incredible @kingdumkum

Rating: EXPLICIT - MINORS DNI

Pairing: Shinsou x fem!reader x Kaminari

Word Count: 10.6k

Content + Warnings: reader is a pro hero with an unspecified quirk who gets hit with a stimulation quirk and has to rely on her faithful roommates to get her through it. Use of nicknames (baby, babygirl, princess, sunshine), fingering, oral (m and f receiving), face fucking, light spanking, slight dacryphilia, very light degradation, squirting, threesome, unprotected sex, double penetration, creampie(s)

a/n: Yes, I KNOW i did the whole "overused sex-quirk trope" thing, but I promise this one’s not that cliché, hear me out!!

All characters are assumed to be 18+

Waking up to the smell of bacon and coffee will never get old.

It’s Sunday, which means it’s the beginning of Kaminari’s weekend and the end of your’s and Shinsou’s. House rules dictate that whoever has the day off gets to make breakfast for the other two, you and Shinsou trading responsibilities since your schedules usually line up.

This morning happens to be Denki’s turn, and bacon & scrambled eggs were always his go-to. A smile spreads across your face the instant you recognize the familiar scent and hear the light clanking of dishes accompanied by hushed voices in the kitchen.

The three of you started living together and working for the same agency right after graduation. At first, it just made sense: save money on rent and save the planet by carpooling to work. Plus, being best friends didn’t hurt either. The convenience of it all made the harrowing realization that you were no longer in school, but rather, entering a world full of villains, much less daunting.

But after a while, when you were all recognized as fairly capable pro’s, each making enough money to easily buy your own place, you chose to remain roommates. Convenience no longer a crutch, but rather, a choice. There was still something comforting about coming home to them that made the thought of moving out almost unbearable.

Luckily for you, they felt the same way.

Although you’ve been mistaken as romantic partners many times before, by just about every colleague and friend, the three of you have never crossed that line. The fear of ruining what you already had, which was so incredibly special, kept any…unwanted impulses at bay. Even if they weren’t necessarily unwelcome.

You’re only human, after all, and as a human, it’s perfectly normal to steal a wayward glance when your pro-hero best friends peel away their costumes after a long shift, unconsciously flexing their hard-earned muscles and proving the fruits of their intense labor were not for naught.

So what if they were your roommates? It’s only natural.

Just like it’s only natural how, after a particularly nasty breakup, Shinsou would have you curled into his chest while Denki rubs your calves. With ice cream melting on the table and sappy romances in the background as their low voices told you: he didn’t deserve you, and Want me to beat him up? and Don’t cry, princess, it’ll be okay. There’s someone better waiting for you, you just need to be patient…

It’s only natural when your mind starts to wonder if this might be what you’ve been waiting for. How they might be the ones who are waiting for you; for your commitment, your love, for you to cross that line–

But in the morning, even as you wake up in Shinsou’s arms with Denki passed out between your legs, you chalk it all up to fantasy. A delicious, beautiful, romantic fantasy that can’t exist, because why in the world would you risk your friendship on the odds that one–let alone both–could ever look at you as more than just that; a friend?

Pushing those feelings aside like always, you get ready for your patrol shift and bound into the kitchen with that bright smile on your face they so hopelessly love.

“G’morning, Sunshine!” Kaminari calls over his shoulder at you, half-hazardly wielding a hot frying pan and almost dripping burning oil on himself when he whirls around to greet you.

Shinsou’s at the kitchen counter, sipping on his third cup of coffee and shaking his head in mild amusement, “Careful, would’ya?” He looks your way with a small smile and an even smaller nod, “Morning, Y/N.”

“Mornin’ boys!” you walk past Kaminari, who leans towards you, neck craned for his usual morning kiss on the cheek, which he looks forward to every day. You eye the hot pan in his hand first and raise your brow. He sheepishly sets it down before turning back to you, his cheek even closer than before.

“Mwah!” you kiss him quickly, with a loud smack and a little chuckle as you head to the fridge, pulling out your coffee creamer and moving to sit with Shinsou. He leans over as well, passively sliding his elbow along the counter top until he’s in-range for his own kiss.

“Yes yes, you too ‘Toshi.” You kiss him just as enthusiastically, continuing on with your usual routine and noticing the sweet way he smiles into his coffee mug.

“Denks, did your team learn anything else about that pervy villain this week?” You pull the clean mug Denki had set out for you towards yourself, making your own cup of coffee and adding entirely too much cream and sugar to make it tolerable, “I bet my two weeks vacation they’re gonna give the case to Shin and I when we show up this morning.”

Shinsou scoffs a laugh beside you, tired eyes rolling in annoyance, “Yeah, really. ‘S all anyone’ll talk about on the news. It’s give’n us a bad rep that we haven't caught the guy yet.”

Kaminari shrugs and passes each of you a paper plate of food. You used to give him flack about using paper plates: what happened to saving the planet, huh Denks? But he’d always quip back with, It’s my day off! I’m not doing dishes on my day off. So either you eat off the counter, or accept my paper plate!

“Not much, honestly. Guy’s fuck’n slick. No pun intended…” You and Shinsou both roll your eyes with a pained groan, “That’s your worst one this week, man. Hands down.” You laugh in agreement, the whole thing all the more amusing from the mock offense on the blonde’s face.

“Fine, then. No more jokes for the Negative Nellie’s!” He takes his own plate and sits on the third stool with a huff, pretending to be straightforward and serious. “He got two more people last week. Female, of course. Both of ‘em with the same symptoms as the rest: ‘insatiable sexual arousal characterized by increased body temperature, heightened sensitivity to touch, and an increased sex drive. All of which gradually worsens until the victim no longer has the capacity to sensationalize. Effects do seem to be long-lasting, and may be permanent if early intervention is not achieved.’” He quotes directly from The Commission’s official statement on the matter, brandishing his [plastic] fork in the air as he does so.

You sigh, both in sympathy for the victims, and in exasperation at the thought of picking up where Kaminari’s team left off. Everyone knows that early intervention means having an orgasm, but it was discovered by accident and has only been tried once, when the victim happened to be on her way to meet her husband. However, while it did seem to help, she still has lasting stimulation deficits from the event since the symptoms didn’t fully subside after one session.

You slump forward, arms crossed on top of the counter, and bury your face in them. “Ugh, I don't wannaaa” you moan and complain, turning your face to look up at Shinsou who looks like he’s feeling the same way you are. He’s just much better at keeping it inside. He rubs your back, “I know, me either. But hey, at least we’re on the same route today, yeah?” He gives you a small smile, somewhere between consoling and encouraging, and you smile back. “Yeah I know. It’ll still be a good day.”

You and Shinsou were often given patrol shifts together: your quirks complementary to one another’s and your chemistry undeniable. He’s been your rock since your second year of highschool, given you were both late add-ons to the hero track. He tried to put up a tough facade, always saying he wasn’t there to make friends, but it took very little convincing for you to win him over.

And once you did, you were inseparable. Combat training after dark in front of the dorms, early morning runs, weekend study sessions - no matter where he was, there you were too.

Kaminari came along soon after, easily working his way into the mix with his natural charm and charisma, making it difficult not to befriend him. The two of you were fast friends, but honestly, the real reason he ended up wriggling his way into your lives was thanks to how quickly Shinsou took a liking to him.

It just makes sense that even after all this time, you three would wind up together. You’re so similar, so complementary, that being with them is as natural as breathing. No team works better than you and Shinsou—besides, maybe, you, Shinsou, and Denki combined—and it only adds to why you stuff your feelings away. You have a good thing going: a history that can only be forged through shared hardships, and a love that will last the ages. It doesn’t matter that your brain is now running through a hundred “what if?” scenarios as you and Shinsou prepare for work. Particularly, what’ll happen if you end up confronting the pervy villain? What if you got hit by his quirk? Who would you call for help? Would Shinsou, maybe…?

But as quickly as your thoughts wander that way, you push them back. You can’t afford distractions today, no matter how pleasant they may be.

The commute to your agency always goes by fast when Shinsou drives. His music is relaxing and doesn’t make you think too much, just puts you in a good headspace for work. He’s usually quiet, but by now you know it’s because he’s comfortable with you. It’s not often he’s able to share the same space as someone and not feel pressured to make conversation.

His favorite part of the drive is always letting you sing to the radio while he just hums along. He steals glances your way every so often, smiling to himself at how happy you look. He’s always thought you were beautiful, but knowing he’s the only one who gets to share in these moments with you makes you nothing less than radiant.

He has a tendency to park at the far end of your agency’s parking garage, wanting to drag out those precious last seconds before he has to turn the car off, thus ending your little karaoke session.

“Ready, partner?” You give him an expectant smile as you unbuckle and swing your legs out of his car, feeling much more prepared for the day ahead now that you’re caffeinated and energized from the drive.

“Ready.” He flashes you a quick smile, the two of you walking side by side into the building and heading straight for the locker rooms to change.

“Meet you upstairs?” You ask over your shoulder as you push the door open to the women’s locker room, pausing to see him nod before he disappears through his own door.

As soon as you make an appearance on the main floor, you spot Shinsou: standing in the center with the head of your agency and speaking with the Commissioner. You make your way to them, the look on Shinsou’s face giving you a damn good clue as to what the conversation’s about.

“—which means we’re relying on the two of you to pick up where they left off. This guy’s bad news and I want him off the streets - like yesterday.”

“Yes sir.” Your partner replies without missing a beat, giving off the same air of indifference he always wears in public. “We’ll handle it.”

They nod their approval of his acceptance, sparing you an extra glance as they leave it to Shinsou to explain what you missed.

“So,” you nudge him with your elbow before crossing your arms over your chest, “sounds like I’m keeping my two weeks vacation then, huh?”

He rolls his eyes with a smirk, “You nailed it. They were wait’n for one of us to show up by the time my foot hit the top step. ‘S exactly what you thought: we’re taking over. Apparently there’s been an anonymous tip about a potential location, so we’ve been told to go check it out.”

You sigh, “alrighty then. Might as well get going.”

If you had known what would happen after the two of you left the agency, you would’ve taken your two weeks right then and not felt the slightest bit guilty. Yeah, you and Shinsou make a great team—but even the best of teams can have an off day. Especially when they underestimate who they’re dealing with.

It had all been going so well; the tip was hot - the two of you tracking the villain down with relatively little resistance - and your fighting was immaculate. You and Shinsou were just as in-sync and fluid as always.

But then, in an instant, the villain turned the tables and had you cornered against the back wall of an alley, hands outstretched in your direction. You have a blinding moment of clarity before everything slows to a crawl, when you realize your intel was wrong:

His quirk isn’t activated by touch.

You’re not exactly sure what happens next. Wisps of shimmery mist shoot towards you from his fingertips before you can react. For you, everything’s moving in painfully slow motion. And just as you’re processing the fact that you’re directly in the line of fire, without hope of escape, Shinsou turns the corner to where you are and apprehends the villain with his capture scarf. He has him bound in seconds, and turns to you with a satisfied smirk, a congratulatory, “we really are a great team—“ falling dead when he realizes what’s happening.

The two of you make eye contact, Shinsou’s eyes going wide as he watches the shimmery mist settle over your stomach and sink into your core. “Y/N…” he mutters in quiet disbelief, worry deep-set in his face.

“I know, Shin.” You try to say matter-of-factly, but your voice breaks and you gulp, panic starting to set in as you feel a tiny ball of warmth forming in your tummy. “Let’s just get this asshole to the police and let them take over.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you stop him, pressing your palm to the center of his chest and making him step aside, “Don’t mention this to anyone, please. We’ll handle it when we’re done here.” You seem eerily serious, although he can already see the heat spreading across your cheeks and it makes him grab your wrist, “As soon as we’re done, I’m taking you home.”

You meet his intense gaze and realize that arguing would be futile, so you nod, your wrist slipping from his grasp and moving to start assessing the damage in the street as if nothing had happened.

But something did happen. You got hit, and you both know exactly what that means. Your mind is reeling, that ball in your core starting to nag, but right now your duty comes first.

Almost an hour has passed by the time the two of you have finished interviewing witnesses, checking for civilian injuries, assessing public property damage, and providing statements to the police.

Shinsou watches from afar as you stand before the chief of police: legs crossed and arms wrapped around your stomach, swaying a bit on the spot as you try to slow your breathing and focus on what he’s saying to you rather than that burning ball that’s only growing larger by the minute.

But your partner knows you’re just pretending to understand, mindlessly nodding at every other word while your face and neck continue to flush. He has to step in and find some way to whisk you away and take care of the issue at hand.

He crosses the road, still blocked off on either end, and comes to stand beside you. His hand rests on the small of your back, meaning to be a gesture of comfort but it only makes the burning sensation in your core intensify. Your head snaps up to him, tears welling in your eyes, and he drops his hand quickly. His own face starts to blush as he realizes what he just did, remembering Kaminari’s monologue at breakfast: heightened sensitivity to touch.

He wraps up your conversation for you, the chief of police bidding the two of you sincere thanks as he waves you off. Shinsou takes the lead down the road, neither one of you saying a word to each other as you briskly walk away from the scene of the incident.

As soon as the two of you make it around the corner and out of civilian eye-line, he scoops you up in his arms and races in the direction of headquarters, needing to get you home as soon as possible, no longer caring about your aversion to touch. “Just hang in there, Y/N. We’ll take care of you.”

You instantly know he’s referring to Kaminari, who’s probably vegging out on the couch watching bad sitcoms, completely unaware of what’s about to happen.

“T-Toshi..” you whimper, every step he takes jostling your body and making your latex suit rub painfully against your sensitive clit, “‘s too much.. it hurts!” Tears well in your eyes as you speak, spilling over and down your bright red cheeks, the embarrassment of the whole situation almost too much for you to bear.

“I know princess, ‘s alright. I got ya.” He cradles you closer to him, your face pressing into his chest and hiding away from anyone who could possibly be watching.

It feels like an eternity before he finally reaches his car, cursing himself for parking in the very back like always. He swings open the passenger door, narrowly avoiding dinging the car next to his, and sets you in the seat. He buckles you in and reclines the chair, allowing you to curl into yourself.

As soon as he slides behind the wheel he’s peeling out of the garage and barreling down the road back to your shared home. You’ve never seen him drive so fast. You appreciate the effort, but every time he has to hit his breaks it only makes things worse.

“Toshi—!” You cry out when he suddenly halts for a red light, gripping at your core with labored breaths as that heat starts to spread. “I-I can’t do this!” You gasp out, immediately unzipping your bodysuit and peeling it off your body.

His cool leather seats coupled with the lack of friction against your clit lets you take a deep breath, gaining a moment of relief. But Shinsou can’t tear his eyes away, gawking at the way you're laying in his passenger seat, completely bare and vulnerable.

“Y/N—“ he strains, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until he has to shake his hands out. You look over at him and notice the shock on his face, reality setting in at what you just did and how indecent you’re being in front of your partner and roommate.

“O-oh my god!” You reach for your suit again, wanting to cover back up, but Shinsou’s quick to throw it back on the floor of his car. “No. Stay like that. We need to start treating this anyways…” His eyes darken as he continues to stare at your body, cock twitching in his suit at the way your chest heaves. He’s so lost in his own thoughts that he misses the green light, the cars behind him honking in impatience.

“Shit–” he growls and guns it again, somewhat returning his focus to the road.

One hand leaves the steering wheel to grip your thigh, spreading your legs open with his firm hold, “Will you let me help you, princess?”

You’re too dumbfounded by this whole situation you’ve found yourself in, silently nodding to yourself and forgetting he can’t see you. He squeezes your thigh, prompting you again, “I need to hear ya say it, Y/N. I promise I’ll take care of you..”

You snap out of it, squeaking a small, “y-yes, ‘Toshi, please help…”

He simply nods, eyes glancing your way every few seconds to watch as his fingers near your desperate cunt. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable with anything..” he mutters as his hand cups your heat, fighting off a groan deep within his chest.

He can’t recall how many times he’s dreamt of this moment. Of having you like this, so hot and bothered for him. Nevermind the cause of your current state of arousal - he wants you.

His two middle fingers start to drag through your folds, feeling just how wet you are and collecting slick immediately. “Fuck, Y/N… have you been like this the whole time??” Part of him feels bad that you’ve had to endure for the last hour, and he wishes it was a bigger part of him, because the rest of him, particularly his cock straining against his suit, can’t believe his luck at getting to see you like this.

He only wishes the situation wasn’t so dire.

You can only moan and whimper in response, his touch giving you equal parts relief and pain at how sensitive you already are. He can tell you’re close just from this minor foreplay, and while he wishes he could drag it on forever, he realizes he’s gotta make you cum in order to actually be helpful.

“‘S okay babygirl, just try to relax. I’ll make you feel good,” he slips both fingers inside, voice dropping to a low and breathy groan as he realizes how tight you are and starts to pump in and out of your cunt, “I’ll make you feel better.”

The penetration rips a wanton moan from you, back arching off his leather seat as you rock your hips against his hand, already feeling that cord in your belly close to snapping. “T-Toshi, ‘m close, p-please don’t stop!” You whine, desperate to finally feel some true relief, not even caring about who it’s coming from.

Shinsou can see the house at the end of the street, already pressing the garage door opener so he can pull right in. He barely watches the road, rubbing the palm of his hand against your clit as he fucks you with his fingers, trying to take in the moment as best he can.

As soon as he’s pulled in he throws the car in park and yanks the keys from the ignition, turning in his seat to better face you. “Cum f’me princess, come on, you gotta do it!” He uses his now free hand to rub at your clit, sending you over the edge almost instantly.

He would’ve known you were cumming by the vice grip your pussy held on his fingers, but the pornographic moan and squirt of shimmery fluid onto his seat was a nice touch.

His eyes widen at the color and consistency of your orgasm, realizing it’s similar to that villain’s quirk. It’s as if a lightbulb illuminates in his head, now understanding that to prevent the worst possible outcome you’ll have to excrete all of that fluid until it’s gone.

He fingers you through your climax, hoping to prolong it and work more of the quirk out of you. His eyes roam the rest of your body, wanting to truly pleasure all of you, but eventually they meet your gaze and notice how scared you look right now.

“Y/N..?” His fingers slow and come to a halt, slowly pulling out and making more tears streak down your face, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Shin..” your voice is shaky and not at all as relieved as he hoped it would be, “it-it isn't working! I s-still feel it inside me!”

You weren’t lying. While you felt some of that heat flow out of you when you came, there was definitely still a tight ball of arousal burning inside you.

“Fuck— okay, um..” he thinks for a quick second, “maybe once isn’t enough.” He flies to your side of the car, scooping your naked body up and holding you against his chest once more as he carries you into the house.

“Denks!” He’s calling out for your other roommate the second the door flies open, desperation lining his tone in a way neither you nor the blonde have ever heard before.

Kaminari was on the couch when he heard the door to the garage slam open, making him jump and drop his bowl of popcorn on the ground. “What the—!?“

But as soon as he hears the panic in Shinsou’s voice, he hops off the couch and runs to the pair of you. “What happened!? What—“ his eyes land on your naked body in Shinsou’s arms, his brain short circuiting for a moment as he tries to process this very confusing yet envious situation.

“She got hit.” Shinsou quickly tries to explain, pressing his way past Kaminari and down the hallway to your bedroom, “We got the fucker, but not before he got her.”

Kaminari’s mouth has run dry and he stands rooted to the spot, a flurry of emotions washing over him as he realizes what all of this is about.

“Denks!” Shinsou yells over his shoulder, “get in here! We have to help her.”

The blonde is yanked from his own thoughts, springing to action and quickly joining you and Shinsou in your room.

You’re now laid on your bed, all your extremities curled into you in embarrassment. Tears stream down your face at the overwhelming conflict of emotions wracking your body right now.

It hurts. Your core is burning, you’re sensitive from when Shinsou made you cum, yet you just want more despite the pain.

But you’re also mortified. Laying vulnerable and bare before your two best friends, this moment not at all going the way you had dreamt it would for so many years.

So all you can do is cry, unable to find the words to express all the things you’re feeling.

But your roommates can’t stand to see you like this, Shinsou climbing into bed and slotting himself behind you, while Kaminari kneels next to you at the edge of the mattress, both men looking at you with all the love and care in the world.

The blonde takes your hand while Shinsou shimmies you up his lap until your back is against his chest.

“Hey Sunshine…” Kaminari brings your hand, cold and clammy, up to his lips and tenderly kisses over each of your knuckles, watching with a broken heart as your lip trembles in fear. “Hitoshi caught me up on what’s goin’ on.” He continues to kiss your hand, each press of his warm lips helping you calm down just a little bit, “Will you let us take care of you? Help you feel better?” His words are so kind and genuine, echoing what Shinsou said in the car, and wanting your express permission even though he’s already incredibly hard and trying not to rut his hips against the edge of the bed.

“D-Denks..” you squeak, nodding the back of your head against Shinsou’s chest, “p-please help me.”

He takes a deep breath, nodding probably too enthusiastically as he climbs into bed with the two of you. He sits himself in front of you, hands on your knees, which are still curled into your chest. “You can trust us, Y/N. Let me help…” he slowly pulls your knees apart, splaying your legs open and revealing your pretty cunt to him.

“Fuck–“ he breathes, licking his lips hungrily, and Shinsou’s quick to jump in, “I know dude, but focus.” Kaminari nods, “right..” and gets onto his stomach between your legs.

He kisses your inner thighs first, getting you used to the feeling of him that close to your heat, since this is a first for all of you.

You whimper at his touch, every kiss making your core tighten even more, “Denki please–“ you whine, head falling side to side against Shinsou’s chest, “n-need to cum again.. please!”

“Alright, alright!” Under any other circumstance he’d tease you for being so desperate, make you wait as long as possible before he gave you any sort of relief. But now’s not the time for that..

He takes a steadying breath as he lets his fingers finally touch your warmth, wishing he could savor it more than he’s able to at the moment. His thumbs pull apart your folds, remnants of your shimmery orgasm dripping from your cute little hole as it flutters for attention.

Shinsou already explained how the quirk seems to be leaving your body through your fluids, but the sight is still strange. Despite how badly he wants to taste you, he tries to avoid ingesting your slick just in case it could affect him as well. Instead, his mouth finds your clit and his tongue immediately starts to roll around the sensitive bud, sending much needed waves of pleasure straight to your core.

Your back arches against Shinsou’s chest, arms flying above you to grasp at his hair and neck - anything you can reach to steady yourself. The stimulation makes him grab your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he refrains from doing too much too fast.

He leans down to kiss at your neck, “This okay, princess?” You weakly nod your head with a whimper, not able to say much else when Kaminari’s flooding you with so much pleasure.

Every press of Shinsou’s lips against your skin leaves a lingering tingling sensation, like little bits of the burning in your core are being left just below each area of contact. It makes your breathing shallow, lips parted just enough to allow breathy moans and needy whimpers to slip past. Your fingers curl in his hair, dragging his head even closer to the curve of your neck, not wanting him to stop anytime soon.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He asks so sweetly, lips curled into a smirk against your neck at the effect he’s clearly having on you, “You like it when I kiss you like this?”

Your moans get a little louder at his questions, hips rocking against Denki’s face below you, chasing after your second impending orgasm. “Y-yes, ‘Toshi, s-so good!” Your other hand reaches down to tangle in Denki’s hair as well, tugging on the roots to pull his face even harder against your cunt, wanting to feel every flick of his tongue across your clit. “K-Kami, p-please make me cum! ‘M so fucking close--”

Hearing you beg has the blonde practically creaming his pants right there. He moans against your clit, only sending you spiraling even more as the vibrations rock through your core.

Shinsou can feel your stomach tightening, each contraction beneath his fingers making him grip onto you even more. “Let go, princess. Let Denki see you cum, just like I did.” His kisses trail up your neck to your jaw, and before you know it his fingers are turning your face until his lips hover just above yours.

“Cum.”

He isn’t using his quirk on you—he would never do that without your permission. But just the same, you obey. The command instantly sending you over the edge as you feel yourself let go, just like he instructed you to.

His lips crash onto yours the moment he feels your body start to peel away from his, the force of your orgasm making your legs shake and muscles contract. Your eyes shoot open at the unexpected kiss, but within moments you’re closing them again and melting into it. Your lips fit so perfectly between his, moans of pleasure just barely slipping through the cracks and echoing around your room as Kaminari watches you fall apart.

He has the perfect view from between your legs. Fingers still spreading you wide as he watches your entrance contract with your climax, more of the shimmery liquid pouring out and dousing the comforter below you. “Goddamn you’re so perfect..” he mutters, desperately wishing he could be lapping up everything he makes pour out.

His thumb lightly presses to your clit, rubbing in messy circles as you start to come back down. Finally he looks up at you, watching as you and Shinsou continue to lock lips, catching brief glimpses of your tongues tangling together. He can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy at not being the first of the pair to kiss you, but at the same time he's glad for Shinsou.

“How’re you feeling, sunshine?” He tries to ignore how the sight of you two is making his cock that much harder, “Any better?”

You break away from your lavender friend, lips feeling a little swollen and tingly, and turn your half-lidded gaze down to the blonde. “‘S better.. but I can st-still feel it inside me..” You look between the two of them with the widest doe eyes they’ve ever seen, and suddenly both of them are putty in your hands.

“How much came out this time?” Shinsou asks, trying to treat the situation matter-of-factly rather than letting his emotions run wild.

“A fair amount. Looked just like you said it would.” Kaminari lets you close your legs again for now, but keeps his hand securely on your thigh, rubbing back and forth to try and soothe you as they talk. “Think we should.. uh- keep going until it's like.. normal?” He clears his throat, embarrassed at saying it so crudely, not daring to look at you right now.

Shinsou chews his cheek and nods, pulling you higher up into his lap until you’re practically straddling him, but still facing Kaminari. He tucks stray hairs behind your ear, wiping the sweat that’s clinging to your brow as Denki climbs even higher, sitting on his knees in front of you.

“Wha’d’ya say, Y/N?” Denki leans in and kisses your forehead, thumb caressing your cheek bone, and you can practically feel the tenderness in his touch. “Can ya keep going? We gotta get it all outta ya baby.”

You look into his golden eyes and see the same emotions that swirl behind Shinsou’s, your heart swooning just the same too. You press forward to kiss the blonde, feeling some of your mental fog lift and realizing the significance of what the three of you are doing right now.

Kissing Shinsou (not to mention the orgasms each man has already given you), has already drastically changed the dynamic between the three of you, so when would there ever be a better time to finally show them how you feel?

He wasn’t expecting you to kiss him though, freezing momentarily with a sharp inhale through his nose. But once his own daze clears, he deepens the kiss immediately. Holding your face in his hands, letting out the cutest little moans against your lips as he pours out years of pining into the kiss.

When you pull back, he’s got a dopey smile on his face and he’s breathing almost as heavy as you are. “Damn, I’ve wanted to do that for a long time…“ The two of you smile at each other, Shinsou rolling his eyes, but with his own content smile on his face.

You shift in Shinsou’s lap, feeling his hardened erection pressing against the small of your back. He groans under his breath, trying unsuccessfully to stifle it with a cough. You pull your gaze away from Kaminari‘s and look over your shoulder at your partner, voice quiet and breathy, “‘Toshi, do you wanna fuck me?“ You bat your lashes at him, biting your lower lip and feigning innocence as you stare into his eyes, just as lavender as his hair.

Without hesitation, he groans out, “God yes. I do.“

Kaminari chimes in, feeling left out, “Hey! What about me?“ He grabs your hand and places it over the crotch of his pants, clearly straining from the obvious hard-on beneath your palm.

You yelp in surprise, facing forward again with a giggle and starting to rub your hand over his hardened bulge. “I want both of you… Wanna cum on both your cocks.“ Your cheeks flush bright red at the lewd statement as you try not to avert your eyes in embarrassment. The boys just look at each other, an unspoken agreement passing between them as they both suddenly attach their lips to opposite sides of your neck, two sets of hands now roaming your body.

You can’t tell who’s doing what, senses completely overloaded as they take turns groping your tits and rubbing at your clit. One of them tugs at your nipples, making you squeak and arch your back into the touch, while the other drags his fingers through your soaked folds and coats your clit in your own slick. “F-fuck, yes..!” You mewl, eyes closing as you tip your head back against Shinsou’s shoulder, forcing Kaminari to move his lips down to your chest.

Now that you’ve cum twice, you’re with it enough to actually enjoy being touched by them. While that burning ball is still settled in your stomach, it’s much smaller than before, and comparatively, almost feels nice given your current situation.

The blonde sucks along your collarbones, littering your perfect skin in bites as he makes sure to leave his mark on you. But soon he pulls away, the hands on your tits leaving with him as he slides off the bed to remove his sweats.

“Shin, you want top or bottom?” He calls nonchalantly, now lazily fisting himself and making sure to catch your reaction when your eyes drop to his length.

He’s pretty – there’s really no other way to describe it. His cock looks long and smooth, not too thick so that it’d hurt, with the pinkest tip you’ve ever seen. The way it swells as he fists himself makes you want to wrap your lips around it and listen to all the equally pretty noises he’d make for you.

“Let's let her choose.” Always the gentleman, Shinsou spins you around in his lap so you’re finally facing him. Without hesitation, your arms wrap around his neck as his find purchase on your hips, fingers lightly tapping on the bones as he asks you directly, “whose cock do’ya want first, princess?”

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth in contemplation, thankful they’re letting you rest this long before continuing. “Gotta see your cock first, ‘Toshi. How else can I pick?” You jest, your tongue swiping out to lick your lips in anticipation. You shuffle down his lap until you can see the clear outline of his bulge in his hero suit, a little stain on the front from how worked up he’s secretly been.

Your fingers lightly brush across his crotch, cock twitching at the first sign of contact, making him groan. “Fuck.. take it out then, baby.” He goads right back, trying to maintain what little façade he has left.

Your fingers work to undo his uniform, Shinsou helping you along the way as he removes all his support items and takes off his shirt, everything tossed unceremoniously to the floor.

When you finally get his pants down, he bucks you forwards before you can even get a good look, pulling the fabric the rest of the way off. He sighs in relief as soon as he’s just as bare as you are, letting you sit back and enjoy the view.

Your mouth gapes open just enough to bring a smirk to Shinsou’s lips. “Like it baby?” He asks a little smugly, “‘s all yours. If you want it.” You watch as he languidly fists himself a few times, making it twitch when he lets it plop back against his abs.

“Mhm!” You hum enthusiastically, reaching forward to wrap your own hand around his shaft without even thinking to ask first — you’re just too excited.

Shinsou’s thick in comparison to Kaminari. Multiple veins snaking up from the base and branching off by the time they reach the tip, which is almost as purple as his hair - flushed and leaking with desperation. He feels heavy in your grasp, and you’d be lying if you said your pussy wasn’t already creaming for him.

His hand comes up to cup your neck, strong fingers pulling you in so his lips are right above yours again. His breath is hot and smells of the peppermint he likes to suck while on patrol, hitting your senses and making you feel even warmer than you already are.

He groans from your touch, “your little hand feels so fucking good on my cock, babygirl.” And then his lips are on yours, kissing you as you stroke his length between the two of you, Kaminari jacking off to the sight just a few feet away.

The blonde climbs back onto the bed, laying next to Shinsou and grabbing your free hand to wrap it around his own cock, which he’s already slicked up with his precum. Your palm easily glides up and down his shaft, the smooth, warm surface making you mewl against Shinsou’s lips.

“You like his cock too, baby?” Shinsou purrs, bucking into your hand and making you jostle in his lap. “Why don’t you put that pretty mouth of yours on it, then?”

You nod against his face, nuzzling your nose against his, “Will you help me feel good, ‘Toshi? Fill me with your cock?” He nods with you in return, smiling as he kisses you one more time and coolly replies, “‘Course, Princess” as if he’s doing you a favor and hasn’t been fucking his fist to the idea for years.

You climb off his lap, taking your place between Kaminari’s legs as Shinsou repositions himself behind you. The blonde can’t stay away from you for that long though, reaching down to grab your face and pull you up until his lips are on yours again. “Don’t leave me out, ‘kay? I want you just as bad as he does.”

He sounds as if he’s joking, but after all these years you can tell when he’s faking it. You cup his face just as tenderly, bringing your lips back down to his and letting your eyes close in content as you kiss him like you really mean it. Because, well, you do.

“I could never forget you, Denks.” You coo down at him, making his cheeks blush, “I want you just as badly. Promise.” You kiss his jaw, starting to trail your lips down his neck and to his collar bones, leaving marks similar to the ones he left on you. As you continue to kiss down his torso, your hand reaches beneath you to stroke his cock again, listening to his sweet groans of pleasure as he tries to maintain composure.

Finally your face is level with his cock, just as blushing as his cheeks and plenty slick with his precum. You keep your eyes on him as you press your lips to the base of his shaft, his breath hitching as he starts to brush the hair out of your face. You kiss your way up to the tip, now smiling to yourself at how sensitive he already is.

His hips jerk ever so slightly when your tongue swipes at his slit, finally getting to taste him and salivating even more once you do. You can see his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, gripping the sheets as you continue to tease his length, and it makes you giggle. “Kami,” you say sweetly, “You can touch me.” You grab one of his hands, kissing the palm before bringing it to the top of your head, “Help me take all of you.”

You wrap your lips around his pretty pink tip, cheeks hollowed out as you start to suck, and your tongue swirling around his leaking head. You give him a little encouraging nod and finally feel him start to apply pressure to the back of your head.

He adjusts, running his fingers through your roots until he’s got a firm hold, helping guide you down his cock. He watches with lidded eyes as more and more of him sinks into your mouth, but when he feels himself hit the back of your throat he can’t help it anymore, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he moans, just enjoying the feeling of you sucking him off.

Shinsou’s been behind you, fisting himself to the erotic sight in front of him and groping your ass as it waves in the air. Once you’re in your rhythm with Kaminari, he spreads your ass, landing a harsh slap on one cheek and then the next, making you moan around Denki’s cock and wiggle your ass for more.

His lips curl into a smirk at how much you enjoyed that, doing it a second time and starting to see imprints of his hand left on your ass in bright red outlines. “Fuck you look pretty with my hands on you…” He groans, unable to help himself when he does it just once more, leaving his hands there this time so he can steady your ass and rut his cock between your cheeks.

You can feel the sheer weight of him behind you, making your pussy flutter in anticipation as he rocks his hips back and forth, dragging his shaft along your taint.

“Ready, babygirl? Gonna cum on my cock?” He taunts, lining up with your entrance and dropping a glob of spit onto his shaft, rubbing it in with two fingers. He hears you hum in response, earning a “fucking hell—!” from the blonde as he covers his face with his other hand, trying his hardest not to slam into your throat.

Shinsou takes that as a yes, pressing forward until he feels his swollen tip pop past your tight hole. He tries to stop, to let you accommodate the initial stretch, but it’s as if your cunt won’t let him. Your slick walls beckon him deeper, sucking him in farther than he initially meant to go until he was completely bottomed out and enveloped in your tight heat.

“Goddamn, princess—“ he practically gasps, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he takes in how incredibly perfect you feel, “never knew you’d feel this good!”

He instantly fills you up, your eyes going wide at first and then fluttering closed as he bullies his way completely inside. You’ve never been filled from both ends before, the sinfulness of it all feeding into your burning core and making you want more.

You pull off of Denki’s cock, much to his dismay, to look back over your shoulder at Shinsou. Lavender eyes meet yours, and all he can see is lust.

“Fuck me, ‘Toshi. I need it, please!”

He doesn’t have to be asked twice, pulling out just to ram back inside, filling you up over and over again. The drag of his thick cock along your walls has you moaning like a whore, struggling to get your mouth back on Kaminari.

“S-Sunshine—“ he cards both hands through your hair this time, gripping tightly to your roots as he lines up with your lips, “be a good girl ‘n open wide.”

You do as he says, unable to protest even if you wanted to, and the instant your mouth is open it’s being filled again by his cock.

He doesn’t hold back this time, thrusting up into your throat almost as hard as Shinsou’s fucking you from behind. It burns - the ache in your jaw combined with the repeated force of his tip slipping down the curve of your throat has tears welling in your eyes.

“That’s it— that’s fucking it. Cry for me, pretty girl. Let me see those beautiful tears as you choke on my cock.”

You’ve never heard Kaminari speak like that before, and Shinsou can immediately tell you liked it, your pussy gripping him like a vice. “Fuck man, she loves it!” He pants, eyes even more lidded than usual as his hips repeatedly meet yours, balls slapping against your clit with each thrust.

“Yeah? Always knew she’d make the perfect little whore f’us.” The blonde chuckles, unable to help the filthy words spilling from his mouth. But you love it: this side of him you’ve never seen before and the way they talk about you as if you weren’t currently being fucked raw by both of them.

Kaminari watches, completely in awe, as fat tears stream down your cheeks for him. His mouth suddenly feels dry as you maintain eye contact, and he can feel himself getting close to orgasm.

He holds your head down a few times, unable to breathe with your nose tangled in blonde tufts of hair at the base of his cock, choking and sputtering as you massage his shaft with your collapsing walls. Every time he does you cry even more, and he’s almost positive it makes him fall more in love with you with every passing second.

“Shit–“ he suddenly curses, voice thick with desperation, “‘don’ wanna cum yet–“ he pulls you off his cock, the two of you gasping - him from lack of stimulation and you from lack of air. He lets go of your roots, instead letting you rest your head against his abs to catch your breath as his cock twitches and throbs pathetically in front of your face.

He wants to cum so bad, but he’d never forgive himself if he wasted this opportunity to feel your velvety walls around him first. He gently strokes the hair out of your face, fingers lightly trailing down your cheek and jaw, “You’re my good girl now, ya know it?” He coos down at you, unable to keep his eyes off the look of pleasure deep set in your face.

You weakly turn your head to look up at him with a dopey smile, “Promise, Kami?” And slowly press forward on your knees to be closer to the blonde. He stares at you in disbelief with those bright eyes of his, struggling to contain the wealth of emotion he feels towards you right now. You see him swallow as he cups your face so tenderly, bringing your swollen, drool covered lips to his in a gentle kiss. “Promise.” He whispers for only you to hear, “You’ll always be mine.”

The admittance has your heart suddenly skipping beats, already beating faster than you’ve ever felt before. You’re barely able to nod at this point though, simply kissing him again as Shinsou shifts behind you to adjust to your new position over Kaminari’s body.

He slowed down a bit to allow you to move, but he can feel his balls starting to ache, tightening a little more with every thrust. He groans in frustration, not wanting to cum either - this moment being too precious to waste.

“Princess,” he pulls out incredibly slowly, both of you practically whimpering from the loss, “why don’t you let Kaminari have a go, yeah?” He helps you shuffle up and straddle Denki’s hips, pressing himself into your back and panting against your neck. “Wanna feel you cum on both our cocks,” he drawls in your ear, voice low and gravelly as he slips a hand around your waist and slides it down to your core, fingers rubbing circles on your clit, “Wha’d’ya say?”

It’s all you can do to nod, swallowing the lump in your sore throat as your hips rock back and forth along Kaminari’s shaft due to Shinsou’s ministrations on your clit. “Y-yes!” You start to moan but it’s interrupted by a gasp when he hits your clit just right, “P-please make me cum again!”

You lift your hips to line your dripping hole up with Kaminari’s tip, the blonde’s hands securely on your hips to help guide you onto his cock. You sink down, slowly at first, but when you realize how much deeper he can reach than Shinsou, you quickly sit the rest of the way down.

His cock easily presses into your cervix, making you see stars for a moment. “Oh fuck–!” You exclaim, rolling your hips to feel him brush along your sweet spots again, “K-Kami you’re s-so deep!”

He’s certainly not as thick as Shinsou, and doesn’t have the hefty veins his lavender counterpart does, but he makes up for it in length. Although, he can’t enjoy the compliments as much as he’d like to due to the way his brain is short circuiting for the second time today.

Your cunt feels better than he could’ve ever imagined, “fucking hell, your pussy’s so fucking hot around my cock—!” And the way you’re clenching from Shinsou’s fingers on your clit, sucking him in even deeper, isn’t helping him hold out. “Hitoshi, fucking make her cum, would ya? It’s killin’ me!”

Shinsou just laughs behind you, his free hand snaking up to grip beneath your jaw, turning your head to the side to kiss him again. His kiss is rougher than Kaminari’s was, but it still has butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “‘T-Toshi…” you moan into his mouth, making him grin even more.

“Sound so pretty moaning my name like that, princess. You love me that much?” He says it as a taunt, but when he feels you nod in agreement he suddenly can't keep up the act any longer, whispering lowly in your ear, “good, ‘cause I love you too, Y/N.”

The wave of pleasure that wracks through your body at hearing those words is more than enough to send you over the edge. Back arching against Shinsou’s chest once more, his fingers furiously working your clit as you squirt on Kaminari’s cock.

Shimmery fluid thoroughly coats the blonde’s abs as he curses from the sheer sight, nevermind the intense pressure around his cock as your walls try to milk him. His hold on your hips tightens, fingers digging in enough to leave bruises as he fixes his eyes on your cunt.

Your third orgasm starts out shimmery like the others, but towards the end he swears he sees it run clear. “Good girl!” He praises through ragged breath, “I think that was it baby. How d’ya feel?” His thumbs rub circles into your hip bones, trying to resist the urge to fuck up into you and chase his own orgasm, essentially edging himself for the second time.

You look down at him through lidded eyes, pupils blown into the shape of hearts as you feel the last dredges of the villain’s quirk leave your body. “It- worked-” you breathe between pants, chest heaving beautifully above him, “Thank you…” You look back over your shoulder to kiss Shinsou, lingering only for a moment so you can lean down and kiss Kaminari as well, “Thank you both.” Your voice is soft and you sound tired, but when your lips press to his you feel his cock twitch inside you and realize neither of them have cum yet.

“Boys,” you breathe after taking a steadying breath, “your turn.” You start to roll your hips again, making Denki groan as you reach behind you to find Shinsou’s cock and stroke him as well. They try to protest, wanting to be sensitive to you and how spent you must be, but you’re not having any of it. “Mm-mm,” You shake your head, “isn’t fair if you don’t get to too…”

Denki’s the first to quit his complaining, giving in to himself and bucking his hips to feel the drag of his cock along your heavenly walls, moans spilling half-hazardly from his lips as he curses the way he's overstimulated himself.

You look over at Shinsou, chin resting on your shoulder with his lips parted as he lets out precious little gasps from the feeling of your hand on his throbbing cock, just as desperate for relief as his blonde counterpart. “Toshi,” you kiss his temple, “you can fuck me too…”

His eyes flick open, head turning to look at you critically, as if he’s trying to determine if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. “You mean.. at the same time..?” You bite your lip and nod slowly. You know how badly you want to feel both of them at once, but wonder if your body can handle it…

Kaminari catches Shinsou’s question, his eyes going wide as his thrusts stutter, simply staring, “What? Are you for real?” You can hear the excitement and disbelief underlining his tone. He meets Shinsou’s gaze, the two of them immediately sharing a look that suggests they’ve definitely talked about doing this with you before, but never thought it’d actually happen.

You feel Kaminari still beneath you, fingers tapping at your hips and eventually trailing up your waist in anticipation, while Shinsou lines himself up behind you. His broad hand splays between your shoulder blades, pushing you forward until your chest is flush against Denki’s, “Be good f’us and stay still, baby. I’ll be gentle.. Promise.” You feel his hand trail down your spine until he’s cupping your ass again, spreading you open so he can watch as his cock lines up with Kaminari’s.

“Tell me if it’s too much…” He mutters, having a hard time focusing on anything other than the pressure he feels as he s l o w l y sinks in above Denki. Your walls hug the two of them together so tightly, making them both groan from their chests from the immense pressure.

“Holy-”

“Shit-”

They curse together, the drag of Shinsou’s cock along Kaminari’s more incredible than either one ever thought it would be.

Meanwhile, your mind’s gone blank, your legs numb as you try to accommodate his fat cock. You won’t lie - it fucking hurts. But you’d be fooling yourself if you didn’t admit how much you love it. The stretch, the pressure, the sting of being split open… all of it has your mind reeling as wanton moans and cries so liberally spill from your lips.

Kaminari can tell how intense this is for you, cradling your head into the curve of his neck, trying to help you find some sense of comfort as Shinsou continues to bully his way inside.

As soon as he bottom’s out, the three of you let out a collective sigh. “Can I move, princess?” You can feel both their cock’s throbbing within you, making you clench despite trying your hardest to stay relaxed.

“Mhm..” you hum tentatively, breath hot against Kaminari’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. He starts to pant, breathing picking up as you shift, drawing groans from both men.

Shinsou draws back out, just a few inches, before shallowly thrusting into you again. It’s incredibly slick, the slide of his cock almost relieving as he stirs your arousal, making more and more trickle down and coat their balls.

“I-I don’t know how long I can last like this…” Kaminari regretfully admits, looking up at Shinsou, who nods in agreement, “Fuck, me either-! …Y/N,” you feel his nails rake along your lower back, soothing you with gentle touches, “Where do you want us finish?”

They hold their breaths and wait, listening to your little whimpers as you take both their cocks at once, trying to think about your answer. The thought of either of them pulling out now has you shaking your head, “I-Inside,” you pant, both of their eyes going wide, balls tensing just at the thought, “Want it all inside. Please…”

“Always knew you’d be such a good girl f’us.” Shinsou coos, Kaminari wholeheartedly agreeing as he starts to move in opposition to his lavender counterpart.

The drag of both their cocks at once, sliding against one another and stretching your poor, abused hole, has you mewling in pleasure. The sting wearing off just as you feel their hips start to stutter, their breathing just as labored as yours.

Kaminari’s the first to let go, feeling his climax finally reach it’s peak as he tumbles over the edge in a slew of moans and curses, “F-fuck-- oh fuck, Y/N! ‘M gonna fucking cum.. holy shit ‘m gonna cum!” He can’t stop the words from repeating on a loop, sweet moans of your name filling your ears as you feel warmth start to creep into your belly again. But this time it’s from ropes of cum painting your walls, the sensation infinitely better compared to the villain’s quirk.

You’re not the only one feeling newfound warmth. Shinsou practically whines as he feels his cock get enveloped by his best friend’s cum, watching as it even starts to leak past your entrance and coat his base in a white ring. The sight’s too much for him, his orgasm quickly following, although much less vocal than the blonde’s.

He let’s go with a pained groan, falling forward to drape himself over your back, pressing kisses between your shoulder blades as he spills himself inside you. You can feel every ounce of his cum mix with Kaminari’s, letting it send you over the edge one last time.

Your fourth orgasm is weak. The smallest trickle of perfectly normal fluid flowing out of you as you simply cry into the crook of Denki’s neck. Shinsou heaves a deep sigh of relief when he sees for himself that you’re back to normal - safe - regardless of how spent you are now.

He slowly pulls out, not wanting to shock your system by going too fast, fighting back his own groan of protest as his cock slips out and hangs between his legs completely coated in cum.

Kaminari’s next, kissing your temple so sweetly as he lifts you off his own cock, feeling a flood of mess pour from your pussy and onto his pelvis. He doesn’t cast you aside though, instead letting you cuddle right on top of him as he wraps his arms around you protectively. “I love you. You know that, right?” He utters softly, lips never leaving your flushed skin.

“Yeah.. I know.” He can hear the small smile in your voice, but you’re clearly exhausted, “I love you too. ‘Nd ‘Toshi.”

Kaminari smiles at that, looking over your shoulder just in time to see Shinsou return with a handful of towels and warm washrags. The three of you clean up, the boys doing most of the work as they take turns holding you close, not trusting your ability to hold yourself up right now.

Minutes pass in silence, feeling like hours as the clock slowly ticks away. None of you wanting to be the first to speak and risk popping the bubble of intimacy you’ve so loved being encased in. But eventually, you find the courage to break the silence:

"Thank you guys.. for saving me." You're laid between the two of them, legs entangled and arms crossing over each other.

Denki laughs, Shinsou chuckling with him, "Of course. How could we pass up an opportunity like that?" The blonde snickers as you smack his chest, pretending to scold him for being so crass.

"I'm serious!" You cry out, although your stern tone is interrupted by a giggle, giving away your true feelings.

"We know you are," Shinsou chimes in, turning on his side to wrap an arm over your waist, "I think we all needed this though.. so thank you, for trusting us."

Kaminari falls silent, nodding in genuine agreement as he turns towards you as well, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "Yeah, Y/N, thank you."

Pink dusts your cheeks as you look between your two roommates, knowing nothing's ever going to be the same from here on out. But not one part of you regrets that.

"Maybe we should downsize...?" You sheepishly remark, biting back the smile on your lips, "To a one-bedroom?"

They exchange looks, smirking together as they kiss your cheeks at the same time, giving you your answer.

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Shinso as a roommate w spice 👀

I can talk about this guy for hours. 🥵

Also send me an ask with a person from MHA and I will say how they are as a roommate. Please advise if you want some spice

I know that some people are sick of the cat and Shinso comparison but I think it is the perfect comparison for him when it comes to being a roommate.

You do not see him often when you first become roommates (and honestly unless you heard him leave his room to go to the bathroom or kitchen you were sure that he just wasn’t there) and it wasn’t uncommon to just say hi in passing once a week or so.

Something changed though once you had been roommates for around 6 months and he was more comfortable around you.

You started seeing him more and more but he did it pretty subtly. It started with him joining you for whatever tv show you were watching- and it rally did not matter what. He watched your (in his words) “pointless reality trash” or “tame horror films” and though he wouldn’t admit he liked them he also watched your “over dramatic teenage shows”.

It got to the point that it was common for you to knock on his bedroom door with a “take out will be here in thirty, I ordered your favorite ramen. Hurry up so we can finish the series tonight.”

What you weren’t expecting was for him to open his door clad in only a towel that was tied lowely on his lean hips as he ran another towel through his shoulder length hair.

“You’re home a bit earlier then usual” he stated, his voice low in a way that you knew he had just been smoking a joint. Just as you thought that you were hit with the smell, making your nose scrunch slightly.

You weren’t against weed but your job did randomly drug test throughout the year so you had not partaken since your first year of college.

“Oh shit, sorry I forgot to spray something before opening the door. I wasn’t quite expecting you home so early.”

“Oh, no worries. I get it.” You felt your heart race as your cheeks flushed with heat. You had seen Shinso shirtless. It actually wasn’t uncommon to see him that way when you two were watching TV or when he was cooking throughout the week.

He said it was because he ran hot, but you swear he continued to do it only after he saw you no so subtly check him out the first time you had seen him shirtless.

“Extra spicy?” He questioned as he back into his room, spraying an air freshener to help combat the smell. It never quite worked but it was nice that he tried.

“What?” You questioned, completely caught off guard as he turned around to look at you, his signature soft smirk pulling at the corner of his pink lips before he bit his bottom lip to try and make it go away. You couldn’t help but notice the blood rush to his bottom lip, making it a bit redder.

“My ramen, did you by chance get it extra spicy?”

“Oh yeah, yes I did. No worries, I know how you like it.”

You could feel the air continue to thicken as your tried to stare anywhere but him but you couldn’t quite take your eyes off of him.

While you had been attracted to Shinso the second you saw him (you mean, you weren’t blind) it had really been the past few months that your crush had gone from a small school yard crush to a full fledged stomach lurching infatuation.

You had honestly couldn’t remember the amount of times that you had spaced out thinking about the indigo haired man and you had definitely lost count of the nights that had ended with your hand down your panties getting off to the thought to him.

“Um, I’m going to get the show ready and listen for the takeout person. I’ll see you when you are ready.” You said quickly, embarrassment an understatement at this point as you got out of his room as quick as possible and walked to the couch.

It wasn’t long before you heard the trill of your doorbell, signaling the delivery guy. As you got up from the couch to get the food you saw Shinso emerge from the small hallway.

“I got it.” He said as he walked passed you quickly, your living room wasn’t very big.

“Oh I haven’t paid the guy yet, let me get it.” You insisted as you stood at the edge of the couch.

“I got it this time, you can get it next week.” Shinso reasoned as he opened the door while also digging into his black sweats for his wallet. He pulled out enough yen to cover the meal with a generous tip before grabbing the bag of takeout and muttering a thanks as he shut the door.

“You know, you said the same thing last week about me paying this week.” You said softly after Shinso had untied the bag and handed you your cup of ramen.

“Did I?” He muttered “must have slipped my mind. No worries, I’ll make sure you don’t get out of it again.” He said with a wink as he handed you your chopsticks.

You couldn’t help the warmth that spread across your chest and neck at the wink, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you thanked him while taking the lid off your food before placing it on the coffee table in front of you as you grabbed the remote to put on the last few episodes of the show that you two had been watching.

Dinner was quite as you tried to pay attention to the show you were watching but try as you might, you couldn’t get your brain to shut off. You made a mental note of needing to watch these episodes alone sometime soon because before this you had been wrapped into the story.

It wasn’t until the finale, the fourth episode you both had watched tonight, that you were able to pay attention. You were completely lost at this point, confused why the main character was in an abandoned farm but you tried to catch up as you watched.

A particularly frightening scene involving a chainsaw man that was wearing body parts of his most recent victims made you a bit jumpy and of course Shinso noticed right away.

“Come here” he whispered as he opened his arms while also putting his feet on the coffee table. It wasn’t completely uncommon for you two to cuddle but it was usually reserved for nights that one you have had a awful day and it never happened after so much sexual tension had been prevalent just hours earlier.

But you also knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth and you were basically crawling to his side without a second thought as you made yourself comfortable by placing your face onto to the chest of his white plain t shirt as he wrapped a long arm around you.

“No scary chainsaw man can get you know” he whispered into your hair. You could hear the grin in his voice as you slapped a hand onto his chest before moving to get up.

“Oh where do you think you’re going? I finally get you in my arms and you think you can leave?” As Shinso said this his arm tightened around you as the other one grabbed onto himself, effectively cocooning you into his side. You couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from your lips as you looked up to his face.

What you weren’t expecting was for his face to be so close to yours. Frozen from shock you continued to stare at him as he stared down at you.

Shinso couldn’t help but look from your eyes to your lips and quickly back to your eyes.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He whispered as his head began to lean down towards you, his lips quickly capturing yours.

You could feel as he undid his embrace on you while also placing both of his hands on either side of your cheeks.

It didn’t take long before he was deepening the kiss and placing one hand on your hip as his skilled fingers drew random small shapes on your hip.

You broke the kiss, needing to breath. As you stared at him for a second you noticed that your hands had had a mind of their own and we’re both at the edge of his skull, pulling gently on his purple locks.

“Woah” you exhaled.

“Good woah, or ‘oh shit what the fuck did we just do’ kind of Woah” Shinso questioned with a quirk of his eyebrows. You noticed that when Shinso got nervous he talked a lot more the he normally would.

“More like ‘why the hell have we not done that sooner’ kind of Woah” you corrected with a smile.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since you became my roommate, but I also didn’t want to fuck anything up.” Shinso confessed.

Your eyes widened in surprise. Sure there had been some sexual tension, but he had thought you were attractive since you had two met? Why the hell did it take so long then?

“Maybe we shouldn’t waste anymore time then” you said, trying to sound very nonchalant but you could hear the tremor in your voice.

Shinso didn’t need to hear anything else as he grabbed you by your hips and placed you onto his lap.

Where the hell did he get so strong? You wondered as you widened your stance to allow both of your legs be flush with his hips as you straddled him.

Shinso placed a hand behind your head as he guided you back to him while whispering “if you want to stop at any point, tell me and I will. I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want to.”

You couldn’t help but feel your heart melt at the words. There was just something about your roommate that made him very different then most guys your age.

“Same goes for you” you whispered back before kissing him.

It wasn’t long of him kissing you that he began testing the waters by allowing his fingers to inch up a few inches up your shirt as he felt the skin beneath. You gave him permission to do whatever he wanted by tugging harshly onto his hair and moaning.

He quickly made work of taking off your oversized shirt, a twing of a smirk gracing his lips as he realizes it’s one of his black shirts that you must have stole at some point. He made a mental note to tease you a bit later, but for now he had way more important things to do.

As the shirt fell to the floor he couldn’t help but grown at the sight in front of him. He hadn’t realized due to the bagginess of the shirt but you were wearing a bra and damn if you didn’t have the pretties tits he had ever seen.

“No bra” he quipped as he cupped them in his large pale hands, loving the way your soft supple skin felt in them as your back arched a bit at the sensation of him kneading them softly, testing the waters to see what kind of pressure you wanted.

“Almost never when I’m in a baggie top.” You admitted with a flush.

“I’ll have to remember that for the future” he said with a shit eating grin before he latched onto your left nipple, rolling a very expert tongue around it.

You let out a louder moan then you meant to but this only seemed to spur Shinso on as he suckled harder.

“Shin, fuck, Shin, can we take this to one of our bedrooms? Not that fucking on the couch doesn’t sound fun, I just think I would rather be in a bed.”

“So demanding” he teased as his lips popped off of your bud, but in that same breath he grabbed you and hoisted both of you up off of the couch, his hands digging into the fat of your thighs. “My room? I just washed my sheets today.”

“We’re you hoping something was going to happen, Hitoshi?” You teased as you kissed his nose.

“Only every fucking day, also please continue to call me that. It sounds so fucking sexy coming from you and I can’t wait to hear you moan my name.”

“Well, just know I don’t just moan to inflate a persons ego, I have to mean it.” You quipped back.

“Don’t worry, you will.” Shinso said with a wink as he slapped your ass, making you giggle before attaching his lips to your neck and walking you to his bedroom.

Also, don’t worry. You moaned his name all night long.

One Piece novel HEROINES illustrations by Sayaka Suwa

the sillies

highscool sweethearts

never lose hope

guess who loves the season 3 op so much they redrew it in timeskip (this guy)

That's your stinky child too now, Dragon~

You can read the first part of this comic here.

As always, apologies for style inconsistencies I just never draw anyone looking the same *lol*

(I'm also not sure how I want to draw Crocodile >w< So I'm just saying that he's not sure yet either what to do. Does he need to be someone else to put as much distance between the pirate and the parent? But Dragon isn't doing that, so does he? Etc etc.)

art by the.gauntlets

gofundme for the family

helping out 🌱