Synopsis: You’d ’d always thought parenting would be tough. You expected the sleep deprivation. You expected the endless diapers. You expected the emotional rollercoaster. But you did not expect your 6-month-old son to start biting like a piranha. And certainly not only biting his father.
It started innocently enough.
One morning, you and Kirishima were peacefully enjoying a rare quiet moment. The baby, Katsu, was gurgling on a soft playmat, fists flailing like he was preparing for a tiny baby MMA match.
"Look at him," Kirishima beamed, brushing a hand through his already-messy black hair. “So manly already! I bet he’s gonna be crawling soon. Or bench pressing.”
You chuckled. “Let’s aim for ‘holding his own bottle’ first, champ.”
Kirishima laughed and leaned over to scoop up Katsu, peppering kisses onto his chubby cheeks. "Who's Daddy's little sidekick, huh?"
Katsu squealed in delight.
Then latched his mouth onto Kirishima’s shoulder.
And bit.
Hard.
“OW—WHAT THE HELL?!” Kirishima yelped, stumbling backward like he’d been stabbed.
You stared.
Katsu, still clamped onto his dad like a barnacle, let go with a wet pop and gave an innocent, gummy smile except it wasn’t so gummy anymore. Tiny, glistening white teeth were poking out of his lower gums.
You gasped. “Oh my god… he’s getting your teeth.”
Kirishima blinked in horror. “Like… my actual teeth?!”
You peered closer. Sure enough, the tiny baby incisors were pointed.
“Yup. Full-on shark mode.”
Kirishima cradled his shoulder dramatically. “This kid is a menace.”
The days that followed were a war zone.
Katsu bit Kirishima at least four times a day.
And it wasn’t just the shoulder.
He went for fingers.
He went for cheeks.
He even went for Kirishima’s butt once during a diaper change.
“He’s targeting me specifically, babe.” Kirishima stood in the kitchen one evening, holding an ice pack to his arm where Katsu had just ambushed him mid-snuggle. “You’re not getting bitten!”
You shrugged, spooning purée into Katsu’s mouth while he cooed like a cherub. “Maybe I don’t smell like protein powder and sweat.”
Kirishima narrowed his eyes. “He senses my power and wants to challenge me.”
“He’s a baby.”
“A powerful baby.”
You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “Eiji, you’re making this sound like a shonen anime arc.”
He looked deadly serious. “Because it IS. This is my villain origin story.”
Katsu suddenly reached for Kirishima's forearm again, mouth open like a mini vampire.
“BACK, DEMON!” Kirishima leapt backward onto the couch, narrowly dodging another chomp.
You finally lost it, doubling over in laughter. “I should’ve named him Chompzilla.”
Sleep was aslo no longer peaceful.
At night, Katsu would wake up, scream, and the only thing that calmed him down?
Gnawing on Kirishima’s fingers.
At first, Kirishima was honored. “Aw, he wants comfort from his dad.”
After night four, he was a broken man.
You found him in the nursery at 4AM, half-asleep, one hand shoved in the baby’s mouth while he stared blankly into space like a war veteran.
“He’s… chewing my soul,” he whispered.
“Want me to take over?”
“No. This is my destiny now.”
And later ypu finally brought Katsu to the pediatrician to make sure everything was okay.
The doctor smiled cheerfully. “Yup! He’s just teething a little early. And those pointy edges? Must be genetic. Some quirks cause that.”
Kirishima perked up. “Like mine?”
“Exactly! He might even have a partial hardening quirk.”
“See? Told you he was manly!”
You eyed the fresh red mark on his jaw where Katsu had latched onto him mid-car ride. “Sure. Nothing screams ‘manly’ like being gnawed on like a squeaky toy.”
Kirishima gave you a betrayed look. “I am the squeaky toy.”
Eventually, you bought a special teething ring shaped like a mini dumbbell.
Katsu took one bite, scowled, and flung it across the room.
“Only the taste of FLESH for him,” Kirishima groaned.
You came up with a solution: a “Daddy Glove.” It was a padded fingerless glove that Kirishima could wear to protect himself from the chomping.
Katsu LOVED it. He bit the glove like it was cotton candy.
Kirishima wept with joy. “He finally respects my boundaries.”
You leaned on the doorway, smiling. “You’ve been promoted from chew toy to chew accessory.”
“Progress.”
But despite the chaos, there were quiet moments.
Like when Katsu nuzzled into Kirishima’s chest, clutching his shirt with tiny fists.
Or when he laughed for the first time at Kirishima’s impression of All Might.
Or when he reached for his dad with a sleepy coo after a long nap.
Yeah, maybe he was bitey. Maybe he had inherited his dad’s shark smile. Maybe Kirishima had four permanent baby hickeys on his arm.
But every time Katsu flashed those crooked baby teeth in a grin?
Kirishima melted.
“Y’know…” he murmured, rocking him gently one night, “I think the biting is just how he shows love.”
when the #2 hero falls for the #1 hero’s assistant.
incl ; pro hero!keigo takami x gn!reader, you’re endeavor’s assistant (sorry), all smau, fluff
a/n: imagine the look on my face when i was in the middle of writing the parts where the relationship is already established and then i realized i forgot to change his contact name… texting your boyfriend with no special contact name or picture or anything…
♯ megumi fushiguro x reader
need a little help imagining? twt link
the soft glow of your phone lit the room as you lay sprawled across the bed, one leg bent beneath the blankets while your thumb mindlessly flicked from one post to the next. you’d barely register anything you’d looked at in the last 20 minutes, your thoughts drifting elsewhere every few seconds. to him.
megumi had only been gone a few days, called away on an extensive mission that had kept him out longer than either of you had expected. you were used to missions, they came with the territory, but that didn't make the apartment feel any less empty while he was away.
the quiet click of the bedroom door pulled you from your thoughts and you looked up immediately.
a little paler than when he'd left, megumi stepped inside, looking every bit as worn out as you expected. his uniform was wrinkled, his hair a mess, and the exhaustion on his face was impossible to miss. even standing in the doorway, he looked like he was running on whatever little energy he had left, the tension evident in the slow rise and fall of his breathing.
a smile found your lips before you could stop it, greeting softly, "hey, gumi..”
he lingered by the door for a moment, eyes finding you almost immediately. "hey," his voice was quieter than usual.
for a split second, something softened in them. there was a flicker of need, small enough that anyone else would've missed it. it vanished just as quickly, hidden beneath his usual calm expression. the moment passed almost as quickly as it came.
“..i’m gonna change,” he murmured.
you nodded. “take your time.”
a minute later, he stepped back into the room wearing a loose black shirt and sweatpants. his damp hair clung slightly around his forehead, evidence he'd at least splashed some water on his face before changing. he tossed the crumpled uniform over the back of a chair before making his way toward the bed.
he looked more comfortable. still exhausted. the mattress dipped as he sat beside you.
you smiled to yourself, resisting the urge to immediately throw your arms around him. you’d missed him more than you cared to admit, but one look at him told you he probably needed a second to simply breathe. so you let him, your attention drifting back to your phone.
a few quiet moments passed. then you felt yourself slide ever so slightly across the mattress. you frowned.
another gentle tug. looking down, you found megumi’s hand resting against your waist, fingers hooked in the fabric of your shirt. he wasn't pulling very hard, just enough to coax you closer to him.
there wasn't any urgency behind it either. he wasn't trying to drag you over, just patiently encouraging you, inch by inch.
you blinked at him.
"what’re you doing?"
he stayed quiet.
instead, he gave your side another small tug.
"gumi?"
only then did he look at you. the exhaustion lingering in his eyes somehow made them softer, less guarded than usual. "..c’mere.”
you giggled quietly. "i am here."
a tiny sigh escaped him, one that sounded almost amused despite how tired he was. he shook his head once. "..no."
his gaze dropped to his lap before lifting back to yours. "here."
realization dawned on your face. "..oh."
a grin spread across your lips. “you've been trying to pull me onto your lap?"
the faintest hint of color dusted his ears. "..maybe."
"you know," you teased, setting your phone on the nightstand, "you could've just asked."
"i did."
"barely."
“you gonna sit or not?”
despite your teasing, you shifted over without another word, carefully settling onto his lap.
the moment your weight rested against him, his hands instinctively found your waist, adjusting you just enough so you were comfortable before letting out a slow, tired breath.
his shoulders noticeably sagged. like he'd been holding himself together all day and had finally been given permission to stop.
a quiet breath escaped him as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, his eyes slipping shut.
"there," you murmured, slipping your fingers into his hair. "better?"
"much."
his hands ran up and down your sides, absentminded and comforting. it had only been a few days, but now that he was here, you realized just how much you'd missed touching him, running your fingers through his hair, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, knowing he was safe.
"missed you," he admitted, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
“i missed you too."
the room fell quiet again.
you couldn’t help but lean down and give him a quick kiss despite the silence. he answered with another, lips parting slightly before pulling back. his palms slid around your waist, fingers spreading wide as they traveled down to grip your hips.
"your skin feels good," megumi said against your mouth. "missed touching you."
“yeah? thought of you every night, gumi. wanted you home so bad..”
another short kiss. then a longer one where his tongue brushed yours briefly. his hands moved again, one staying at your hip while the other slipped higher under your shirt, tracing the curve of your side.
you shifted and he pushed the fabric higher, exposing more skin as his fingers trailed up to brush the underside of your breasts. the slight friction sent a small jolt down his spine.
"shiiit.. right there, pretty," he breathed when you started rocking your hips slowly. the thin cotton of your panties rubbed against the front of his sweatpants, and he could feel himself hardening beneath you. "yeah, keep doin’ that.. feels too good."
you ground down again, a little firmer this time, and megumi groaned softly into the next kiss. short pecks alternated with deeper ones as his hands roamed freely, squeezing your hips, sliding back to your ass, cupping your chest through the loose shirt.
"god, you're so soft," he groaned into the kiss, his hand shifting to give your ass a gentle, playful smack. the sound echoed in the quiet room, making you gasp, which only seemed to encourage him. he smacked you again, a bit firmer this time, before kneading your backside like he was trying to mold you to his body.
"you’re getting hard already," you giggled between kisses.
the sensation of your panties against his sweatpants was agonizingly perfect. you could feel the thick, hard length of his dick pulsing beneath the fabric, straining against the waistband of his sweatpants.
"can’t help it," he replied, voice a bit rougher now. "not when you're moving like that on my dick."
his thumbs circled your nipples through the fabric while his other hand dipped lower, fingers tracing the edge of your panties before returning to your waist. another grind made him twitch, and he pulled you closer for a messy kiss, tongues meeting briefly.
"don’t stop," megumi urged. "wanna feel you like this.. all of you."
you ground down harder, a slow, circular motion that had him arching his back, a low moan escaping his throat. his hands flew back down to your ass, gripping you tightly and pulling you flush against his erection. you rolled your hips once more, the friction building steadily against his growing erection. he nipped at your bottom lip, hands never still, sliding around your back, lifting your shirt again to run his palms up your sides and over your chest.
"love how you feel on me," he said quietly. "grinding on my dick ‘nd shit.. keep going."
short kisses punctuated every movement, turning into longer, hungrier ones as you continued the slow rhythm. his hands stayed busy, gripping, stroking, occasionally pushing the shirt higher so he could touch more of your bare skin.
"tired as hell but i really can’t get enough of you," megumi muttered against your lips, giving your ass another sharp smack, the sting mixing with the pleasure of your bodies rocking in sync. his name slipped from your lips in a breathless gasp, earning nothing more than an amused purse of his lips.
you and your bsf!eijirou kirishima help each other out 18+ MDNI!!!
“are you sure the ratio is correct?”
“i’ve been doing this since i was fourteen, yes i’m pretty sure the ratio is correct, can you shut up?”
“i’m going to put black dye in your shampoo, kirishima.”
the redhead simply snorts at your empty threat, continuing to mix the dye in the small plastic bowl. after so many years of doing his color by himself, the supplies he owns rival a professional hairdresser’s.
you sit on the bathroom counter, legs dangling and slowly rocking to and fro, hands curled around the edge as you watch your best friend with a curious look— as if you haven’t done the same exact thing so many times before. he touches up his roots, you sit by the sink and either play music or yap about your week.
eijirou can’t imagine doing it any other way. he’s sure that if he tries to bleach his hair when you’re not here, his whole head is going to fry off.
“you wouldn’t dare…but don’t worry, it’s not something i want to find out,” he drawls coolly, putting down the bowl and brush to get his gloves.
“can i ask you something?” you speak up suddenly. “well, it’s two things, actually. can i try doing your roots? and can you bleach a streak of my hair? a small one at the back, maybe. just because.”
“sure thing, i can guide you,” he nods, not doubting you for even a fraction of a second— he trusts you too much for that. “and do you want me to dye it red after? we can match!”
your grin widens, clapping your hands enthusiastically when he agrees. “of course i’d love to match! this is so fun, do you think it’ll suit me?”
eijirou arches a brow, a silent ”seriously?” in his expression. “do i even have to say it? you can rock any look you want! i’m actually worried you might outshine me.”
you laugh, your foot playfully kicking the side of his knee. “you’re such a dork.”
it’s a few more minutes before everything’s ready. you’re the one wearing gloves now, scooping up bleach with a brush, ready to apply it over eijirou’s already sectioned hair.
“you’ve seen me do this plenty of times, i’m sure you’ll do great,” he says, coming to stand right in front of you. “just make sure to add it evenly, okay?”
you nod, breath hitching when eijirou’s hands come to rest on either side of you, effectively caging you in. you’ve been closer than this, and he’s doing it because you need to be able to reach— so why the fuck are you so worked up?
“sure, y-yeah…i’ll do the front first.”
making sure you do a good job and don’t mess up eijirou’s head definitely helps you not think about the proximity, but with the way he can’t stop fucking staring at you, you might just lose it.
“eiji…you’re staring. it’s creepy,” you try to wave it off as a joke, hoping it would diffuse the situation. “mhm, i know,” he hums. “can’t really look anywhere else tho, your face is the safest option.”
your hand halts, brush idling midair as you lean back, then look down. you quickly find two explanations, hugged tight by your little top. when you look back up, eijirou’s ruby eyes are pointing up to the ceiling, lips pursed as he whistles absentmindedly.
“seriously?” is all you say.
“i didn’t want to look like a creep!” he quickly explains. “they’re kinda right there, a-and your face is pretty to look at, too.”
“too?” you snort, unable to bite back a grin. “were you enjoying staring at my boobs, eiji?”
you tease him with such a sweet voice he almost moans, condescension dripping from your lips, rosy and plump and he’s imagining them doing a whole lot of things he really shouldn’t be imagining right now. but he can’t lie, not when he’s had a crush on you for so long.
he never said anything because he didn’t want to overstep, mistaking how comfortable and safe you felt around him for something more. he’s not that kind of guy.
“well, y-yeah. but it’s not something i do often! it’s kinda hard t-to ignore, you’re a very beautiful girl—”
“is that why you’re hard?”
shit. was he?!
his eyes snap downwards, and sure enough, he’s sporting a rather embarrassing tent in his shorts. he really has nothing to defend himself anymore. “…yeah.”
you giggle, carefully placing the - basically still full - bowl of bleach next to you on the counter. “that is distracting, i gotta admit.”
“really?” eijirou meets your gaze, his face so close to yours he can smell the strawberry milkshake you drank on the way to his house on your lips. “mhm,” your voice’s dropped a couple octaves. “looks like i might have to do something about it.”
he’s about to ask what you mean by that but then you’re kissing him, effectively clearing up all his doubts. his hands leave the edge of the counter to find your waist, molding around the sweet, sweet curves to press your chest against his.
“eiji…” you gasp into his mouth, surprised by his feverish hunger. “sorry,” he breathes. “i’ve just been waiting to do this for so long…”
his tongue licks at the seam of your lips for permission, which you gladly grant him. your palms paw at his pecs, fisting the fabric of his black tank top. he tastes like protein shake, the one you always say smells yucky— though you have to admit, the flavor is pleasant when he’s making out with you.
it’s cute, the way he’s so needy yet still reverent with his touch, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts through the fabric of your cami, almost scared to reach any higher. with his raging boner pressing insistently against your inner thigh, though, you can’t afford to be as subtle.
“oh, fuck,” eijirou’s breath hitches when your hand palms him, cock throbbing pathetically, demanding out. “do you let all your hairdressers get you off?” you tease, nose nuzzling his jaw as you thumb at his clothed tip to feel the warmth of his pre spread.
“are you asking if i jerk off in my bathroom often?” he quips with a breathy laugh. “because i do. i usually imagine it’s you, though.”
a smile tugs at your lips, teeth grazing the side of his throat enough to make him hiss. “cute.”
then your hand dips inside his shorts, and eijirou loses it. his fingers dig into your ribs, brows knitting with in a silent plea as you begin to stroke him slowly. “you’ve thought about me doing this?” you whisper against his neck, smiling when his adam’s apple bobs with a gulp.
“among other things,” he chokes out, hips bucking forward, involuntarily seeking more friction. “yeah?” you coo, digits hooking into the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down along with his boxers, allowing his dick to spring free, heavy and leaking.
“what else?” you goad, thumb collecting a bead of pre that was dripping down his tip to press against his slit. “oh,” eijirou’s legs twitch, a whine getting trapped in his throat. “s-sometimes…i’m touching you, too.”
your cunt clenches at the desperation in his voice, and you don’t even realize you’re shifting closer to the edge of the counter, legs spreading wider— an invitation. he looks like you’re trying to kill him, big hand gripping your thigh, fingers slipping right under the hem of your shorts.
your confidence falters when he traces the edge of your panties, the anticipation almost unbearable. eijirou’s rubies flick between yours. “you want me to touch you?”
it’s almost embarrassing how fast you nod.
who would’ve thought a hair dye hangout with your best friend would’ve turned into the two of you having your hands down each other’s pants - literally - like horny teenagers, getting each other off and making out so sloppily you’re both drooling.
“eiji!” you keen, the squelches your cunt makes with every thrust of his fingers in and out of your hole bounce off the walls in a sinful symphony. your shorts and panties dangle from a single ankle, his lay in a puddle somewhere on the floor after kicking them off at some point.
there’s barely an inch of space between your bodies, your hand pumping his dick so close to your core you could just slip—
but that’s for another time.
his thumb rubs your clit in maddening circles, pace faltering here and there when his cock throbs, the feeling of your touch on him making him lose his mind. “baby, you’re squeezing me…” he kisses the corner of your mouth. “are you close?”
you let out an affirmative whine, not trusting yourself to be able to say anything coherent. eijirou smiles, middle and ring finger curling to stroke that sweet sweet spot within your walls. “me too…you’re - hah - s-so good, gonna—”
he’s the first one to break, hot ropes of creamy white spurting out and coating your puffy folds as he keeps working you. the sight of his cum on your pussy is enough to send you over the edge as well, orgasm crashing over you in a shattering wave.
all that’s left after your shared high are heaving breaths and awkward looks, both of you trying to register what just happened. you’re the first one to speak up. “that was very unprofessional of me as a hairdresser.”
“yeah,” he snorts. “gonna leave a one-star review because i enjoyed it, though.”
“only one star!?”
“well yeah, i have to discourage any other potential clients!”
it’s your turn to giggle now, playfully bumping your shoulder against his chest. “i might have to agree with you, though…hair isn’t my calling. i didn’t even manage to get half your head done. but you are a very distracting costumer.”
“i guess i have to admit my own faults as well, the stylist was too pretty to resist,” he grins.
“think you can let me finish my job without pouncing me again?”
“no promises.”
┊┊a/n. this was the inspo ty to my bbg @dynamite-roll i'm so sorry if it's genuinely buns :( i was having beef with this one for some reason
Izuku wasn’t supposed to think like this. Not about you. Not when you looked at him so sweetly—like he’d hung the stars, like he was everything good in the world. As if he were the lace that wrapped around you, made you whole. As if he was everything there was to cherish in life.
But shame had always clung to him like a second skin. And yet, there he was—palming his cock through his All Might boxers in the quiet dark of the bathroom, breath shallow, mind racing with thoughts too filthy to ever say out loud.
He didn’t deserve to touch himself to you. Not to your smile, not to your soft, pretty face. You were too fucking beautiful. Too kind. Too good for his selfish, disgusting pitiful desires.
But the ache in his pants was unbearable.
Every kiss—whether lazy and unhurried, all sighs and wandering hands, or a peck so quick his lips barely registered it—left him breathless, because his cock always knew, which made him painfully hard. And every time, he’d excuse himself with a red face and a strained laugh, locking himself away where he could be alone with his guilt and his need.
He would press his palm to the outline of his cock, feeling it pulse and twitch under the thin fabric of his boxers. Just a little pressure, just enough to imagine your hand there instead—your soft, polished fingertips dragging slow strokes along the clothed length, teasing the damp spot at the tip.
It never lasted long.
With a breathy, broken whimper, Izuku would give in, tugging down the waistband to release his cock with a quiet, needy sigh. Thick and flushed, it sprang free—pale skin stretched around swollen veins, the tip glistening with precum. He wrapped his fingers around the base and squeezed, like he could stop the shame from rising along with the heat.
“F-fuck…” he hissed, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own shallow breaths. “I’m sorry… I’m such a bad boyfriend…”
But even as he whispered apologies, his hand moved—slow, shaky strokes up his aching length, thumb swiping over the sensitive tip, gathering the sticky slickness and smearing it in soothing circles.
“Y/n,” he moaned, the sound breaking around the edges. “So pretty… I don’t deserve you…”
The guilt never left. But neither did the desire. Not when he imagined your pink lips wrapping around his cock, your eyes soft and teasing, your warm breath brushing against him as you took him in so slowly, so sweetly.
And when he finally came with a bitten-off cry, that was in every way jagged like, nails on a chalkboard. thighs trembling and hand slick with release, he crumpled forward, pressing his forehead against the cold tile wall, still murmuring breathless apologies into the empty room.
masterlist link here. emergency commissions info. tip jar - my kofi if anyone wants to help support me!
I genuinely hate how underrated Male Readers are that there's barely much fics/stories for us 😔
Most of the audience are catered around female readers, or gn readers but includes feminine pronouns/descriptions. Yes, I know that there is much on here. Yes, there's fics that are peak. Yes, we're represented. But outside tumblr? NOOOOOOO!!!!
Any results after I search up "(Fandom) x male reader" or "(Male character) x male reader", MOST OF IS FEMALE READER!! Not that I'm saying female readers deserve less. I just want to read an ounce of gay love and affection 🙏 😔
What hurts more is when the story is intriguing and perfect to read because the reader's gender is male/gn, it JUST gets sabotaged. The author either leaves the story discontinued, inactive for 4-1 years, gave up on the idea, or their whole account disappears 😭
“Oh my god,” (y/n) laughed as they pressed their hand flat against Eijirou’s shoulder. “Sit still, Eiji, you’re going to ruin my work of art.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Eijirou sighed. He settled back down into the chair and forced himself to stay still. Eijirou looked at their reflection in the bathroom mirror and watched as (y/n) got back to bleaching his roots.
“When will the pizza be here?”
“Soon, my love,” (y/n) told the hero softly as they worked. “It’ll most likely arrive when we’re done applying the bleach. We can eat as it lifts.”
“Do you want to pick what we watch tonight?” Eijirou asked. “Or can I?”
“You can pick, baby,” (y/n) hummed. “What were you thinking?”
“Can we watch the Crimson Riot documentary?”
“Sure, baby. Whatever makes you happy,” (y/n) murmured as he split Eiji’s hair into another section.
“Yeah… but will it make you happy?” Eijirou asked.
“Watching you be happy will make me happy,” (y/n) told him as they finished applying the bleach to Eiji’s roots. They placed the bowl down on the counter and turned to look at Eiji.
“You look great like this, baby,” (y/n) joked as their eyes scanned over the mess that was Eiji’s hair.
“Oh, thank you,” Eiji laughed. “It’s itchy.”
“It’s supposed to be itchy, baby, it’s bleach,” (y/n) laughed. “Just don’t scratch or you’ll irritate your scalp and fingers again.”
“That was an accident,” Eijirou said. “I forgot I had the bleach in.”
“It was sorta cute. I got to take care of you. I like doing that,” (y/n) told him honestly.
“I know you do. I like it when you take care of me.”
| A/N: Here’s another self-indulgent fic I wrote in my phone’s notes this week, there’s no plot, no excuse other than me being big thirsty like all the time. |
| Warnings: nsfw!! Literally zero plot just smut. (Mutual?) Masturbation, pining, wet dreams, inappropriate use of a pillow. |
| Words: 700+ |
| Summary: Lately you and Izuku have been sharing one another’s wet dreams. Oblivious to the fact that the other is experiencing the same dreams, you’ve been tip-toeing around one another for weeks. |
. . .
Your skin was softer than the silver silken sheets beneath you, jumping and reddening underneath his hands as they explored the planes and curves of your body. Your half-lidded gorgeous eyes stared up at him, lips parted as hot puffs of air were pushed from your legs with each pump of his hips as his cock dragged between your soft thighs.
Your eyes squeezed themselves shut as his shaft repeatedly rubbed over your swollen clit, the slippery underside massaging between your puffy folds to slide blissfully against your pink labia. His gaze shifted from your ecstasy-twisted face to where his cock slipped between your thighs, glistening with your juices and producing an obscene wet sound of soaked flesh on flesh.
Your hands surround your bouncing breasts, squeezing the supple globes between them, skin spilling out between your fingers. You were panting and whispering out gentle praises, beginning to get louder and moan out his name in a chant as you approached your orgasm. Your hands released your boobs and wrapped around his neck. His pace quickened when you pulled him down and brushed your lips against his ear, begging him to push inside of you, to fuck you, make you cum.
And when he drew the tip of his cock to your pretty pink entrance and shoved himself inside of you, your voice peaked in pitch, pleading for him to keep going, to cum inside of you.
Izuku woke with a start, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. His blurry eyes were met with darkness instead of your beautiful face, and he groaned when he realized he was humping the shit out of his pillow.
He kept bucking against the plushy object, letting the stuffing now bunched towards the middle envelop his bare cock that had slipped from his boxer shorts.
“Ahm… mmm, a-ah…”
Drool dribbled down his chin as he grew close, images of you and his lewd dream flashing through his mind as his balls began to tighten. In his frenzy to reach his release, a small hint of One For All activated, surrounding his squirming body in bright green sparks as he humped his pillow at an inhuman pace.
“Ah, ah, ghnnn! Oh fuck, oh god, fuck, Y/N p-please!” He moaned into the pillow, imagining you on your knees, breasts surrounding his cock and your mouth sucking sensually at the tip.
An image of you arching and screaming out as your orgasm overtook you, his name falling from your lips shoved him right over the edge. No longer caring how loud he was, he let out a series of lustful cries into his pillow as he finally tensed and convulsed, cock twitching as he came, covering the pillowcase with his thick cum as it shot out. He whimpered and panted for breath as his hips continued to weakly grind against the damp fabric, riding out his orgasm as the knot in his stomach unwound with every spasm.
He collapsed into his mattress, heaving raggedly as he came down from his dizzying high. When he came back down to earth and his big green eyes reopened, he was met with the glowing light of his alarm clock sitting near his bed.
It was 3 AM.
He shivered in discomfort when he felt his sticky release drop onto his thighs and onto the pillow. His face burned bright with embarrassment when he realized what he’s done. He jumps out of bed, hastily stripping out of his damp boxers and ripping the soaked pillowcase off of the pillow. He rushed to shove the soiled garments into the laundry and jump in the shower to rinse away the shame.
That was the fourth wet dream he had of you this week. And the nth time he’s woken up hard and or covered in his own cum.
. . .
You panted heavily through your parted lips with glossy eyes, reddened cheeks and shaking thighs as you removed your slick-covered hand from your panties. The covers were kicked off the bed and you were sweating up a storm, skin buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
Your head turned to the side to check the time, your clock reading 3 AM.
You’d awoken squirming around on the sheets and rubbing your thighs together after a particularly vivid dream about your green-haired classmate, again.
When was this going to end?
. . .
You could barely look one another in the eyes the next morning.
Guilty, longing, and oblivious.
𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐨 @awhoreforeveryone - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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