pov: one does not simply fake date Sero and NOT start catching feelings
genre: fluff
PART 1 HERE
🅂🅈🄽🄾🄿🅂🄸🅂: almost everyone in 1-A passed the final exams. You know that at that point your life's gonna change. Just not in the way you expect.
You are just a fool who keeps pretending that you're loving me
-cavetown
tags: @bl--ankhaeji @shijjii
img cc: 스키 🎗️ @DSH_0
There are times in your life that you sit in a daze, wondering if you're really a functioning human being that knows how to make solid decisions. As much as you like to pretend that everyone has done their fair share of stupid decisions, they probably wouldn't make the same choice as you did which is: fake dating Sero.
How'd that happen?
Bakusquad asked you a favor. Turns out Sero hit his head one too many times during the final exam. Sero thinks he's dating you. What kind of reverse amnesia is that?
And now you're here at training camp, trying to avoid him as best as you can. Why are you avoiding him?
---
"Hello, Sero." You approach him timidly. His friends asked you to come with them because Sero's getting released from the clinic, and then afterwards, they'd celebrate.
"Sero?" His tone exasperated and he stares at you adoringly. "If this is about me sleeping on Midnight-sensei's lap, then I'm sorry, cariño. Next time, I'll just let Mineta get hit by the pheromones.I didn't know it bothered you."
You coughed awkwardly. Right. "Yeah, um it does a little bit."
"I'm gonna make it up to you." He gives you a half-moon smile and you can't help but return it with one of your own.
He kisses your hand. His soft lips on your skin had you disintegrated. You don't know how to explain it exactly but it's like melting. Melting but more violent. Blissful. Your cheeks warmed. You couldn't look at him. You walked back all the way to class with Sero still holding your hand. Still not saying anything.
He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb exploring your palm.
"Mi amore?"
"..hmm?"
Sero lets go of your hand but not completely, he holds on to the tip of your fingers, loosely, he's not ready to let go. "Let's hang out later?"
You nodded.
"I'll miss you."
You stop nodding halfway and finally met his eyes in confusion. "But we're classmates."
"Still not stopping me from missing you all the time."
Kami. Your heart just exploded. You made an excuse that you were going to the rest room. Once alone, you bring the back of your hand to your lips, just to have a vague knowledge of how he felt when he kissed your hand.
---
Being Sero's girlfriend meant having an open invitation to hang out with Bakusquad. They try to include you in conversations but as a shy person, you could only take so much social interaction. You were glad Bakugou doesn't even try to converse with you. With his personality, for sure you'd start crying. In consolation, you have Sero to entertain you. Not his full attention, but under the table his hands find ways to entertain you.
You sipped your ice coffee quietly. Mina and Kirishima are asking Bakugou how to solve a certain math problem while Kaminari is talking with Sero about the new Akuma Killers movie. A hand brushes yours. He discreetly takes your hand onto his thigh and then he makes a fist, bouncing up and down. You understand the gesture: rock, paper, scissors.
"I'm so excited! Have you seen the trailer?" Kaminari gushed, waving his phone at Sero. "They really placed huge money on effects! And the way the fight scene flowed! I kept replaying it."
Out of the corner of his eye, Sero smiles at you. You flush under his glance. You play with him. He wins the first round. He flicks your hand as punishment. The second round you won. You flicked his hands harder than he did yours. It became a contest. Midway, you realized how he was still able to manage keeping up with you even though he's still in conversation with Kaminari.
Your lips pouted. The next round you won, you pinched his skin between your fingers hard enough to mark. Sero yelped. "Ow! Gently! Gently!"
You smirked in satisfaction, taking your hand away from his thigh but he grabs it and laces his fingers with yours. Doomed. That's it. You're doomed to hand holding whenever Sero's around. He lets out a happy sigh.
"Oi."
You and Sero turned to look at Bakugou.
"You better be sticking to hand-holding under this table and nothing else." Bakugou grumbled.
---
"What do you remember?" You ask Sero.
"I remember almost everything except some parts like how we got together are blurry." He scratches the back of his head. "I do know that I've been so much happier ever since we started dating."
"Okay."
Sero takes you to an empty classroom, you sat on the desk with your brows scrunched up trying to figure out what serious talk you're going to have. He calls your name. "I remember... we paired up with each other during one of Present Mic-sensei's classes."
You grinned, nodding. "Yeah."
"So... as a reward, call me by my first name?" He leans his palms by the edge of the desk you're sitting on. "..while looking directly into my eyes. Don't shy away now, mi amore. No one's here."
"I– Hanta." You blushed hard because the tape quirk user stares into you so intensely that it's starting to hold your breath hostage.
"I also remember that one time I was having a hard time writing a report in the library and you helped me for a few minutes." He leans forward. Slowly. "This time no stuttering."
You blinked, arms starting to tremble not in anxiety but in anticipation. "Hanta."
"I remember helping you clean up a fallen trashbin. It wasn't your fault but you cleaned it up anyway." He inches forward, giving you ample time to voice for him to stop. "I need you to say my name five times, cariño."
You took a shuddering breath, your throat bobbed and for a second Sero breaks eye contact to follow your throat's movement. "Hanta." You whisper. "Hanta." His face is close enough you feel the fan of his breath. Oranges. "Hanta. Hanta." His eyes flicks to your lips. "Han..." You trail off when he finally, finally pressed his lips on yours.
Note; We all want to see jealous Shoto…… well maybe just me but here it is regardless.
⚸ Everyone in this is aged up/18+.
Shouto could do it.
It’d be no skin off his back to linger patiently until you sauntered off to the restroom and ambush you on the way back. To tug on your wrist and drag you into his Father’s bedroom. To fuck you into the sheets of his pristinely made bed until your voice cracks as you cry out his name and his only.
If he could just —
A small, chubby hand suddenly smacks roughly against his cheek and it jerks him from of his mind, piercing the veil of the severe glare he was aiming at Endeavor. Shouto peers down at the 8 month old baby taking up space in his lap. His son, Yuto, babbles, letting out a high pitched nonsensical coo and grins up at him with eerily similar mismatched eyes.
Shouto smiles softly, the resulting warmth unfurling in his chest takes the edge off the bitter jealousy prodding at his rib cage.
The three of you had come to the Todoroki household that evening to have “family dinner” per Fuyumi’s request. Which was more begging than anything else if he’s honest.
Shouto had agreed because well — he’s trying. Trying to be civil with his Father and because somehow his sister had convinced Touya of all people to be there. So sue him if he wanted to see his brother.
And now that Shouto’s a dad to a beautiful baby boy who sports snow white hair and chubby little cheeks and freakishly reminds him of his eldest brother, he doesn’t want any turmoil to ruin Yuto’s childhood.
But of course, his bastard of a Father crawls under his skin just the right way and gets his blood burning with an all too familiar righteous fury.
Endeavor is currently speaking with you across the room as he flips through a binder filled with old baby pictures of Shouto and his siblings that he’s positive his Mother must have taken.
The way Endeavor is looking at you makes Shouto’s stomach sour. He’s never seen the old man’s gaze so tender, never witnessed that gentle expression on his face, and when Endeavor touches your arm Shouto forces his attention back on his baby because if he keeps looking he may very well explode.
Someone sits down heavily on the couch beside him, jostling Shouto and then Yuto is squealing delightedly, clapping his hands and reaching out towards the person next to him. He already knows who it is before the other man speaks.
“Jealous, baby brother?”
Shouto exhales a cloud of steam before shifting his body to glare at Touya.
“Why would I be jealous?”
Touya shrugs nonchalantly.
“Seems as if our dear old dad is chattin’ up your pretty little wife.” Touya grins like the Cheshire Cat, lifting his eyebrows in amusement.
Shouto fights the itch to wrestle him off the couch and freeze him to the ground, but he can’t very well do that with a baby in his lap.
“Father is not flirting with my wife. She wouldn’t entertain behavior like that anyways.” Shouto sniffs, glancing at you then back at his brother.
Shouto watches Touya’s turquoise eyes brighten like the sun when Yuto huffs restlessly and reaches for him again. He easily hands the little chunk over to his uncle. His brother hums happily and reclines against the couch’s backrest so Yuto can rest on his chest, the baby wrapping his tiny arms around the other’s neck and laying his head on his shoulder with a content sigh.
“Ya know, if it were me, I’d go over there and remind that dickpunch who she belongs to. Not that you’d ever do that, right golden child?”
Shouto rolls his eyes so hard he fears they may get stuck in his skull.
“No, because I’m not a lunatic like you Touya-nii.”
“Sure sure, whatever you say otouto.”
Shouto mulls it over and is beside himself when he finds his thoughts circling back to the previous images of you facedown in Edeavor’s bed.
Is Touya actually making sense??
He shakes his head to get rid of the disturbing idea that Touya could be right and convinces himself that he has more self restraint than that.
Yet as he listens to Touya cooing sweetly at Yuto beside him and he peaks at where you’re otherwise happily engaged in conversation with his Father, the muscle in his jaw ticks once he clenches it.
He’s not so sure his brother is crazy after all.
Shouto doesn’t have to wait long before you excuse yourself and venture to the restroom.
He makes up his mind that second, not caring the slightest bit about any untold consequences his plan could bring and implores his brother to watch his son.
After receiving an infuriatingly smug smirk in lieu of an answer Shouto slips away to wait just behind the door frame of Endeavor’s room. The bathroom is just down the hall and Shouto’s heart beat begins to thunder when he hears the door open.
Your footsteps are hushed as you stride across the hardwood flooring, blissfully ignorant to your husband hiding a few inches out of sight and Shouto sees his opportunity when you pass by.
His hand darts out to circle your wrist and then he’s wrenching you into the bedroom.
“Shouto!” Your startled gasp is muffled by Shouto’s palm covering your mouth. Your eyes go wide, pupils tracking over his face in confusion and thinly veiled irritation once he releases you completely. “What the fuck are you doing? Where is our son?”
“He’s with Touya, and I pulled you in here because you were speaking to my Father.”
Your brows furrow but you let out a breath of relief knowing Yuto is in semi decent hands. You level him with a scowl.
“That’s why you pulled me in here and scared the hell out of me?? I talk to him all the time!” You throw your hands up in the air.
“I am aware, but I couldn’t stand the way he was looking at you.”
“It was no different than how he usually looks at me Sho.”
“Yes it was!”
Your lips part in shock when Shouto’s voice raises, an edge of frustration laced in it. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’ve heard Shouto yell.
You regard him carefully, resting a hand gingerly on his bicep and you take a step towards him until you’re invading his personal bubble.
“Are you alright Shouto?” You study him as his face pinches, eyebrows knitting together and then he’s framing your cheeks with large palms. His right hand is significantly colder than the other.
“Endeavor has taken everything precious away from me for my entire life, but you — you’re mine. He can never have you and I’ll never allow him to hurt Yuto.”
That freezes you in your tracks. You hadn’t been aware Shouto was struggling with an insecurity that major.
Endeavor had been more friendly recently, sure, but it mainly began when Yuto was born. You’re pretty convinced he’s the reason why Enji has softened up as of late, but you’re not about to tell Shouto the way he feels isn’t valid.
You reach up and grip his wrists reassuringly and Shouto bends down to rest his forehead on yours.
“Shouto, listen to me. Your Father will not ever come anywhere close to remotely important in my life. I tolerate him for you. For your sister. For the rest of your family and our son. I love you, more than anything.”
Your husband’s eyes flutter closed and a rosy pink blooms over his cheek bones and the bridge of his nose. He reopens them only for you to find adoration and gratitude staring back.
“I love you too.” Shouto brushes a sweet kiss over the tip of your nose and a thought suddenly occurs to you.
“Sho, was the only reason you dragged me in here to talk about what was bothering you?”
Shouto hesitates.
“No, it wasn’t the only reason.”
You arch an eyebrow.
“Care to share with the rest of the class?”
Shouto smirks coyly then, stepping away and turning to shut and lock the bedroom door.
In a heart beat you’ve been shoved onto the bed and dragged to the edge until your ass hangs off. The soft dress you’re wearing pushed up to bunch around your waist and then Shouto’s peeling your panties down your legs and dropping them carelessly to the side.
He sinks to his knees and you grab fistfuls of his short shaggy hair, squeaking when he runs his tongue between your pussy lips to part them. His playful tongue circles your clit and your breath stutters in your throat as you try to swallow your moans.
Shouto pauses, reminding you to hush before he eats your pussy with the intent to get you drooling. He sucks your clit between his lips a few times, coaxing a low whine from your throat and then he’s manhandling you until he’s shoving your face in the sheets and hauling your ass in the air.
He positions himself to stand at the edge of the bed and undoes his jeans with deft fingers. He hooks his thumbs in his waistband and yanks them down along with his briefs just so his achy cock can bob free.
A thrill zips down your spine, stomach clenching when the blunt tip of Shouto’s cock teases between your lips and catches when you wiggle your hips.
Shouto’s stills, his soft huffing dancing in your ears and you gnaw at your lower lip in anticipation of the toe curling stretch.
“Okay baby?”
“I’m okay Sho, please move.”
That solidifies Shouto’s resolve and then he’s pressing in in in, letting his cock fill out your tight pussy and pushing prickles of pleasure out to the tips of your fingers.
You moan simultaneously when he bottoms out and then he’s pawing at the squishy flesh of your hips, snapping his own viciously and inching you across the sheets with each movement.
You start losing control of the volume of your cries and you turn your face into the blanket with white knuckles as Shouto continues to yank you back to meet his thrusts. The obscene sound of your skin meeting continuously is all that remains in the background.
Aware that you have a time limit to this quickie, your husband gets the memo and bends forward to press on your lower back until he can get the perfect angle to strike your g-spot. He feels borderline desperate to make you cum on his cock.
Your orgasm swells ominously behind your navel and you warn Shouto through hushed stutters and breathy moans.
Shouto’s possessive urge to claim you returns with vehemence, rushing up his spine and muddling his thoughts. Suddenly he can’t help the way he’s threading his fingers through your hair, fisting it and tilting your head back in a brutal bend. Shouto’s voice rumbles in his chest.
“Whose pussy is this baby?”
You wheeze, trying to keep quiet still.
“Your pussy Shouto, it’s yours!” Your scalp aches with a dull throb and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“That’s fucking right baby, and whose wife are you?” His cock twitches violently as edges closer to his release.
“Fuck! M’your wife Sho, yours!” A few tears slip down your cheeks and your pussy flutters rhythmically, mind blanking on the fact that you’re supposed to be silent.
“You’re my fucking wife, don’t ever forget it.”
The heady rasp of Shouto’s voice unravels the knot in your belly and then you’re cumming. Your pussy suffocates his cock and Shouto’s hearing goes fuzzy, toes curling in his socks with the force of his own orgasm.
Your chest heaves with the attempt to catch your breath, a thin layer of sweat beading on your forehead. Shouto smoothes his hands over the soft skin of your lower back before pulling his cock free. You wince slightly, dreading the soreness you’ll be saddled with later.
“Stay here.”
You nod to yourself, gathering your wits about you and Shouto appears with a damp towel to clean you enough to be comfortable.
It only takes a moment for you both to readjust yourselves. You’re both flushed pink and your dress is wrinkled when you pull it down and try to smooth it out.
To Shouto’s delight, the fact that your underwear is still lying on Endeavor’s floor slips your mind. You plant a chaste kiss on Shouto’s lips, whispering about how your absence must be noticeable by now and everyone must know what you were doing but Shouto doesn’t hear you.
You shuffle out of the doorway, fixing your hair to the best of your ability but Shouto stays rooted to the spot.
He doesn’t second guess his decision as he scoops up your panties and shoves them under his Father’s pillow to discover later. A reminder that you love Shouto so much you’re willing to be fucked in Endeavor’s bed just because he asked you to.
When he returns to the living room he notices you speaking with Fuyumi. He turns to Touya and the man trails his eyes up and down Shouto’s disheveled appearance, shooting Shouto a knowing smirk. It seems his brother hasn’t moved an inch since he disappeared, content to snuggle the baby snoozing peacefully in his arms.
Later, once he’s ushered the three of you home, Shouto’s phone rings with a call from Touya. When he answers his brother is already laughing hysterically and recounting the furious way their Father had banged around his room once he unearthed Shouto’s present.
Shouto snickers along with him without an ounce of remorse.
Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side.
— starring. baby daddy!todoroki shoto x fem!reader
— tags. miscommunication trope, angst, pregnancy and giving birth, friends with benefits, vague relationships, running away, slight single parent!au
— warnings. ages are unmentioned, but shoto is in his late 20s/early 30s, smut, soft sex, cunnilingus, praise, p in v, use of petnames (baby, pretty girl), reader gets called a good girl once, shoto is highkey a munch
— word count. 8.2k
— requested? no
— notes. this one ruined me tbh LOL i have a nasty habit of slipping btw present and past tense so the tenses in this one might be all over the place :')))
Whatever you and Todoroki Shoto had together, you knew it wasn’t romantic.
You were his outlet. His source of relaxation when being a hero became too much to bear on his shoulders alone. You were fantastical. You were illusionary. With you, he was no longer Pro Hero Shoto, Number Three Hero. With you, he was just Shoto. And for your moments away from the world hidden beneath wrinkled sheets and closed curtains, that was enough for him. When morning came, and those curtains had to be drawn, he would become Pro Hero Shoto again, and you would wake up to an empty bed.
For you, he was everything.
For you, he was your hero before he became a Pro. He saved you from succumbing to the stress of standing out to survive as a support class student. He saved you from your insecurities and false ambitions, and he saved you from living a life you didn’t truly want. Todoroki Shoto was your best friend before he became the man shrouded in shadow — the man you hid away in secrecy to bed whenever he wanted.
He told you he would be gone for a while. A mission in upper Kyoto that took him away from your arms while you stayed safe in Tokyo. He assured you that he would be fine and return to you as soon as possible. If you were a fool, you might’ve taken those to heart and swooned under the pretense of love. But you knew better.
Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side. In your eyes, Shoto put his work before himself. Admirable, strong, ever-the-reliable Pro Hero Shoto. The nights he spent with you as just Shoto made you wonder who else got to see his true self.
The second month of his absence came, and you were sick. An illness had overtaken you, leaving you bedridden for days on end. At first, it had just been nausea. You put it off as motion sickness — you often had to take the train to and from anywhere. Perhaps your stomach had simply met its limit and was taking it out on you with lashes of sickness and vomiting.
After a week of being washed away in your bile, you realized that you had yet to bleed that month. Rather, you realized you hadn’t had your monthly bleeding for a while. You weren’t stupid. You knew what it all meant, and you knew the consequences of your actions had finally caught up to you. You hid away from the world, only leaving to purchase tests from the store.
The answers mocked you. PREGNANT. TWO MONTHS+.
You considered getting rid of it. To keep it your dirty little secret. Shoto would never have to know — no one would ever have to know. But as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your hand resting atop your stomach, you felt at peace for once. As if you finally had a reason to keep going.
Five months had passed since he was gone, and you felt it now more than ever. You never explained to any of your friends or neighbours who was responsible for the swelling of your tummy, nor about the packages of furniture fit for a nursery that showed up on your doorstep. They never asked. No one knew your trysts with Shoto, and you planned to keep it that way.
For his sake.
You wished. You desperately wished that he could stay by your side, that he could support you through this time of anxiety and worry. You daydreamed of welcoming him home, your little bundle of joy wrapped in your arms as you kissed Shoto on the cheek — a reward for working hard as he always did. You thought about spending more than just nights of pleasure with the two-toned man, about wearing his ring and raising your beloved child together.
As a family.
Thirteen months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.
Thirteen long, gruelling, and lonely months were spent mourning his absence, even though he was still alive somewhere. It felt like the clouds that followed you for weeks parted only when your son was born. He looked like you. He had your nose and your eyes. He had the same rounded cheeks you still adorn, even well into adulthood. His voice was like bells on a clear sunny day, and when he lay in your arms, you declared that you would love him for all you were worth.
Even if the tuft of red and white on his head brought you immense heartache.
A selfish part of you wished that nothing of your son, whom you’ve named Yami, would resemble his father. That way, you could truly hide his origins — your past that you refused to uncover. But the bigger part of you was overjoyed. The moment you laid eyes on his hair, matted down with blood and amniotic fluid, you sobbed uncontrollably. The nurses and midwife recognized the two-toned hair immediately and watched you with pitiful eyes as you clutched Yami to your chest.
You moved away the second you were discharged from the hospital, baby carrier in tow. You wished your neighbours well and thanked them for being so kind to you in the years you lived among them. You were gone within that same week.
You lived peacefully in your new home, tucked away in the countryside of southern Japan. You opted to stay away from TVs and the internet, worried that seeing his face might make you regret the rash decision to pick up and leave. Yami was growing quickly, already large for a four-month-old. His hair grew out, more red than white.
You didn’t know if Shoto had made it back from his mission. If he did, you weren’t sure how long he had been back or whether he had sustained any injuries. You didn’t know if he went to your apartment to search for his fantasy. You didn’t know if he thought of you at all.
You didn’t know if he was alive.
The longer you spent away from the man, the more your heart yearned for him. Whenever Yami would quiet down for his nap, you stared out the window at the acres of empty farmland. In the vastness of space, you could only think of him. The man who had taken your heart from the tender age of fifteen. The man who possessed your life in his hands, though your essence seemed invisible to those blue and grey eyes.
The fool in you wondered if he ever had feelings for you — if he ever burned for you the way you did for him.
You felt like a dessert. Scorched inside and empty. Golden sands represented him—burning to the touch and yet all-encompassing. Even without him by your side, he was always there. He surrounded you, dragging you in, and you let him.
Yami’s babbling would always break you out of your reverie, the pangs of guilt and sorrow gnawing away at your still-beating heart. The routine remained the same, day after day. After he woke up from his nap with an incoherent cry for his mother, you would settle him onto your lap and cry. You sobbed into his soft tufts of hair, apologizing for taking him away from his father, for hiding him away from the world just because you were a coward.
Yami was your darkness. He was your uncovered secret.
Two years and two months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.
Yami was seventeen months old and starting to look more and more like his father. He took his first steps earlier than any parenting book had told you he would, and it wasn’t long after when he said his first word. It seemed the world was against you, and the universe was punishing you for keeping Yami away. You broke down for the first time in a while when that first word hit your ears.
“Da… Dada…”
You weren’t alone in your silent, unspoken wishes to be at Shoto’s side. Poor Yami, who had never met his father, spoke Shoto into existence with that one word.
“My baby,” you sobbed, hugging Yami tightly to you as he babbled, repeating those two syllables over and over. “My poor baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Mommy’s so sorry, my baby…” You rocked back and forth, crying endlessly. Yami’s hands grasped at your clothes, hair, and face. His little round features twisted into a grimacing cry as he watched tears pour from your tired eyes for a reason he didn’t yet understand.
The day he spoke his first word was when you showed him a picture of his father for the first time. Recognition flashed behind rounded eyes, recognition for a man he’d never met.
While you were grocery shopping — Yami balanced on your hip, a paper bag full of produce in the other arm — you heard Shoto’s name.
“Didn’t you hear? Pro Hero Shoto is here! In town!”
“Isn’t that weird? Why would such a hotshot be here, of all places? We aren’t even on most maps…”
“Who cares?! Do ya think I can get an autograph?”
You break out into a run without paying attention to the rest of the conversation. You hold Yami to your chest, supporting his head as you run with all your might. The paper bag of fruit and vegetables lay forgotten behind you, surely to be crushed by any passing vehicles. You run until you can’t run anymore, chest heaving in exhaustion. Using your object manipulation quirk, you open the front door to your house without taking your hands off Yami.
You whisper sweetings into his ear, telling him everything would be okay. Maybe you were telling yourself.
Not long after you returned home, the door rattled with a gentle knock. The very door you locked moments ago. You hold your breath, not wanting to see anyone. You didn’t want to see him.
Your name was spoken in that soft voice you missed so much. Before you could stop him, Yami started sobbing, his high-pitched cries alerting the person outside that you were there. You shush Yami desperately, rocking him back and forth in an attempt to calm him down. You kiss his forehead, silently begging him to stop crying.
Your name was called out again, this time panicked and louder. Yami’s cries increase in volume, and you feel your eyes water all the same.
The door hinges begin to frost over, and it’s knocked down in seconds. The loud noise scares your son, causing him to sob uncontrollably as he grasps painfully at your hair. You hide him behind you as you face the intruder head-on. Without blinking an eye, you use your quirk to lift the door off the ground, pushing it against the intruder, hoping to push him out completely.
The door is pushed away easily. After all, you are no match for Pro Hero Shoto.
He has gotten larger in the twenty-six months since you last saw him. His shoulders grew broader, his hero uniform barely hiding the dense but lean muscle that hid beneath it. His hair was longer, falling into his eyes as if he didn’t have time to take care of it. The man in front of you looks different from the man you knew, but it is undoubtedly him.
He breathes out your name, steam rolling off his left side and icicles glistening atop his skin on his right. He steps over the forgotten door, into your house, and into your safe haven, large and commanding of your attention. You try to make yourself bigger, to hide Yami from his eyes, and perhaps to hide your shame as you stare at the father of your child.
“I looked for you everywhere,” he gravels, his voice deep and crackling with emotion. “I came home, and you were gone. Do you have any idea how fucking scary that was?! No one knew where you were, and your apartment was empty. I didn’t know if you were safe, I didn’t know if you were alone…” Shoto steps closer to you, anger seeping into his expression. “For fuck’s sake, I didn’t know if you were alive!”
Your heart hammers in your chest as he grows closer, his fists clenching angrily by his side. His eyes search you desperately, searching for any sign of injury or abuse. They trace over your wrists and ankles, perhaps looking for signs that you were held here not on your own will, that you didn’t leave him just because you wanted to.
You pick your brain for the right words to say. You have thought about this day for years, and now that he’s in front of you, you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess of shame and joy, your heart struggling in a fight against itself. Analyzing him, your eyes rake over his body. There were a few more scars you don’t remember, some fine lines on his face that weren’t there before, but it was him.
As your brain wraps around the fact that Shoto was really there after over two years, Shoto collapses to his knees in front of you. He all but crawls over to you as he shoves his face into your thighs. Hot, stinging tears hit your skin as he cries into your lap, his hands reaching to hold you. Large, calloused fingers grasped at your thighs, pulling you closer to him.
“I was so scared,” he admits, his body shaking as he cries silently. “I thought… I thought a villain had taken you.”
Your hands hover behind you, keeping Yami hidden. His cries have thankfully subsided the second Shoto entered the room, but you weren’t sure for how long that would last. You can feel him grabbing at your shirt, trying to peek around you. Resisting the urge to wipe away Shoto’s tears, you grip onto your son tightly.
“How did you know I was here?” You lick your dry lips, wincing at how raspy your voice is. The first words spoken to this man in over two years are painted over with wariness and caution, very unlike the words of encouragement and longing you had given him your last night together. “No one knew I was here. Not even my family, so how did you…” You trail off, unsure if you want to know the answer to this question.
Shoto pulls away from your lap, looking up at you with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “I searched for you every day. I never stopped once I realized you were gone. I was in communication with every hero in this fucking country, hoping that one day one of them would spot you.” He hastily wipes his cheeks, his trembling hands remaining at your side.
“Why did you go?” he asks in a whisper. His voice, low and cracking, is broken as he speaks. “Why did you leave me? Did I do something? Was I…” Shoto swallows thickly as his insecurities taint his mind. “Was I not good to you? Did I make you leave?”
His endless questions send you for a loop. In front of you was not Pro Hero Shoto, but just Shoto. Your Shoto, the one you long for in your dreams. The one who paints your every happy memory and the one whose name you whisper into the dead of night.
And yet, as you feel Yami’s tiny hands grab your arm, you can’t answer any of his questions.
“Dada…!”
The both of you freeze, and the world stands still for a moment. Shoto’s trembling gaze slowly left yours, meeting the eyes of the toddler behind you. The first thing Shoto notices is his hair — bright red with streaks of white bleeding through. He feels his heart stop and start again, his hold on you finally slipping as his body goes somewhat limp. He falls back onto his heels, fully kneeling before you now.
Snapping out of it, you turn around and take Yami into your arms, facing away from Shoto as you shush the poor baby, calming him down quietly. Shoto can only watch as you handle him with a gentle care he isn’t privy to.
Without sparing another glance at Shoto, you start to walk away. He calls out your name hastily, and you can hear him clamber to his feet. Swallowing harshly, you look at him over your shoulder. Shoto looks out of place in your cozy living room, too large for the space. And yet, he appears small. His shoulders are hunched in as he reaches out to you with a face that begs you not to leave.
“He… needs to be put down for his nap,” you whisper, kissing Yami’s temple. “We… can talk after.”
Before you can regret your words, you head into his nursery, painted a soft yellow. You coo at your son, gently resting him in the large crib that took up most of the room’s space. You hum a lullaby to him as you stroke his hair, looking down at him with nothing but love.
Even long after he fell asleep, you don’t move. You stay there for a while, watching Yami so closely you don’t notice the presence at the door.
Shoto’s voice comes in a whisper. “He… He is mine, isn’t he?”
You can only nod, shame filling your soul as tears slip from your watery eyes. “His name is Yami,” you speak, your voice cracking.
Shoto flinches but waits patiently as he watches you come to a stand. He doesn’t rush you as you place Yami’s favourite stuffed animals by his side, leaning down and kissing his forehead before approaching Shoto.
“Let’s talk in my room,” you whisper, glancing at Yami before shutting the door behind you.
The two of you enter your room, the stifling air suffocating you as you shuffle over to your bed. Shaky hands reach for your pillows as you keep your back to the Todoroki, fluffing them to keep yourself busy. Your throat feels grating as you swallow down harshly. The room feels both hot and freezing, which you assume is his doing.
He doesn’t say anything either as he stares at the back of your head. Your hair looks different from the last time he saw you, and the clothes over your body aren’t articles he can remember you own. He thinks back to that night when quiet goodbyes were whispered between sweaty sheets. He wonders what went wrong.
His eyes wander, his frightful gaze tearing away from you only to look around your room. There are remnants of you everywhere. Family pictures hang from the walls, and old posters he vaguely remembers from your apartment are pasted against grey paint. It was you, but different. It wasn’t as colourful as your old room, and your trinkets are either out of sight or gone altogether.
When his eyes rest on you once more, a million questions run through his mind. Why did you leave him without a word? Images of your child, the very one who bore a striking resemblance to himself, flash in the forefront of his mind.
“How have you been?” you croak out after too many beats of silence. Hugging a pillow to your chest, you turn ever so slightly, only glancing at him from the corner of your eye as if it were painful to even look at him. Perhaps it is.
Shoto can only stare at you in disbelief, his brows curling upward as his heartache shines through. “How have I been?” he repeats breathily, his low voice raising half an octave. His mouth opens, but the words die on his tongue. Only after an excruciatingly long moment does he find the words again. “I’ve been miserable. You were gone.”
You wince at the strain in his voice, gripping the pillow even tighter. Your knuckles whiten under your tight hold. “I’m sorry,” you whisper pathetically, swallowing the lump in your throat painfully.
“Why?” he asks again, his voice cracking as he takes a tentative step toward you. “Why did you disappear?” Shoto reaches for you, stopping just short of grabbing you by the shoulders. He can’t tell if he wants to shake you until you see sense or hug you and never let go.
“I had to,” you urge, finally meeting his eyes. Your breath hitches, and you regret turning to him, but now you can’t look away. Those mismatched eyes that used to bore into yours with unreadable emotion as he draped his body over yours were tired, dull, and pained.
Shoto is the first to break eye contact, staring at your floorboards as he attempts to string together his thoughts. “Was it me?”
With furrowed brows, you shake your head no. “Shoto—”
“If I knew,” he rushes out, interrupting you. His gaze drops to your stomach, and he imagines what you might’ve looked like, swollen with his child. “If I knew, I would’ve come back sooner. Fuck the mission, you needed me and I…” He cuts himself off, bringing his hands up to your shoulders. His grip is tight enough to force you to look at him straight on, yet gentle. You think you can feel them trembling over your clothes, but you aren’t sure if you’re imagining it or not. “I’m so sorry,” he almost cries. The pillow in your hands falls to the carpeted floor, but neither of you cares to pay attention to it.
“Shoto, no,” you whisper, cupping his cheeks as you press your lips together. You thumb away his unshed tears. “That’s not why I left.”
“Then why?” he breathes.
You purse your lips, biting at the inside of your cheek as you reflect on those lonely nights spent under cold blankets. “You’re a hero,” you speak slowly. “I never had a place in your life, Shoto, not really. I’m a nobody. If… If I stayed, I would have been holding you back. You deserved more than that.”
Shoto narrows his eyes at you. “I deserve you,” he blurts, his tongue stained with vexation at the mere implication of your words. You watch as his lower lip wobbles momentarily before he steels his expression. “It isn’t your place to decide whether or not you should be in my life. That’s something for me to decide, but you took that away from me.”
“Took what away, Shoto?” you exclaim, raising your voice for the first time that day. “The sex? The comradery? You could have easily found that in someone else.” It hurts to admit, but you know it’s true. During those days together, you were a mere placeholder for someone better than you. Someone who could relate to him more than a nobody civilian could ever hope to.
After all, Pro Hero Shoto could have anyone he wanted.
Any anger left in his body dissipates as his body tenses. His face scrunches into something painful, mouth ajar and eyes wide as his grip on your shoulders tightens slightly. “What?” he whispers, the word dripping from his tongue like ice water. “What are you talking about?” The room feels like it’s dropped a few degrees, and if the frost that clings to his skin is any indication, it might have.
Averting your gaze, you try to wedge yourself out of his tight hold, but he doesn’t let you, taking another step forward. You’re practically chest-to-chest as he shakes your shoulders gently. “What are you talking about?” he repeats with an urgent tongue. “Someone else? What are you talking about?”
You heave a sigh. “Don’t play dumb, Shoto. You’re… you. You could easily find someone to replace me.”
“Is that what you think?” he breathes harshly, steam rolling off his skin, melting the frost. “That you’re just some replaceable body in my bed? Do you really think that lowly of me?” His expression twists as he reaches up to cup your jaw. His touch is burning, and yet you find yourself leaning into his palm.
“Isn’t it the truth?” you murmur, your voice catching. “I’m not anyone special, Shoto.”
“You’re my girlfriend,” he spits out, angry at the notion that you were a nobody. “You’re special to me. Isn’t that all that matters? I couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re not a hero. That never mattered to me, so don’t give me that bullshit.”
Your eyes snap open as you stare at Shoto in shock. You feel your body freeze over, and suddenly, your lungs are empty. “... What did you call me?” you croak.
Shoto stares deeply into your eyes, his own darting back and forth as he tries to read you. “My girlfriend.” His voice wavers as he tries to understand why you look so confused.
“We weren’t dating,” you cry incredulously. “What are you talking about?” You watch Shoto as realization washes over his distraught expression and something within you cracks. “Shoto, what are you talking about?” you ask again with a frantic pull to your voice. Shoto’s hands slip from your shoulders.
“Weren’t we?” he whispers quietly, any strength sapping from his body as he limply stands before you.
With your heart beating faster than ever, your breath leaves chapped lips in uneven puffs of strangled air. “We never talked about being anything more than just…” You trail off, the past couple of years draping over your shoulders, weighing you down heavily.
“You thought I was with you for the sex?” Shoto doesn’t know how to feel or how to act. His face twists as several emotions run through him before his mind settles on heartache. His multicoloured eyes try to meet yours, but you’ve already looked away. He moves his body, craning his neck to take a good look at you. He wants to see you. He wants you to see him. He utters your name in a broken whisper. “It was never just sex for me, baby,” he declares, his voice cracking in sorrow. “You had to have known that.”
He moves closer, cradling your face as he gently forces you to look at him. When he sees the indecisive glaze that’s taken over your eyes, he feels his heart break just a little more. “Please tell me you knew. That you know it was more than that.”
You blink away tears, your chest rising and falling quickly as you meet his intensive gaze. “You’d only come to me at night,” you mutter, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and wanting to pull his hands off of you. “You never stayed. You were always gone in the morning, Shoto. What was I supposed to believe?”
Shoto fights back a wince as he mulls over your words. He sighs, absentmindedly rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I was so busy with hero work,” he murmurs in horror-filled realization, frowning at himself. He shakes his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “That’s not an excuse. I should have tried harder to be around. But it was never just sex for me.”
His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, his forehead coming down to rest against yours. His eyes flutter closed, wet eyelashes sticking together as he lets out a trembling breath. “Please believe me, baby,” he pleads quietly. “I’ll be better. I’ll show you I love you. I’ll make sure you know this time, so please…”
Those three words pull the air from your lungs, but when he opens his eyes, you’re left truly breathless. Love, sorrow, and regret swirl in his blue and grey hues. You don’t remember the last time you’ve looked at Shoto like this. “Please come back to me.”
“Shoto—”
“I’ll stop being a hero,” he interrupts you, a deep frown tugging at his lips. “If that’s what it takes.”
You make a face, your brows knitting together tightly. “Don’t be stupid, Shoto,” you hush. “Being a hero is your life. I’d never ask you to throw that away for me.”
“You’re my life,” he presses. One of Shoto’s hands moves to cup the back of your head, carding through your hair. “Our child will be my life. You matter more to me than anything else.”
Sighing, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. “I’d be even more upset if you gave up,” you murmur. “I understand that being a hero leaves you with little free time. So—”
“No,” Shoto cries out. “Don’t make excuses for me. I should’ve tried harder. I should have realized things between us weren’t clear.” He pauses for a moment, his brow bone tensing as he bites at his lip. “Do you love me?”
With a softened gaze, you knock on his forehead with a weak fist. “You’ve always been it for me, Sho.”
Shoto smiles at the nickname, a slight tick of the corner of his mouth. If you hadn’t been so close and hadn’t known his expressions as well as you did, you might’ve missed it. He leans closer, his nose brushing against your cheek as he kisses your tear-stained skin sweetly. “I love you,” he hushes, tugging you closer. His fingertips trail up your spine until they’re entwined in your hair. “I love you.”
A shiver runs down your spine at the sensation as you curl into him. Your hands trail up his broad chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. Inhaling deeply, you stare at him in hesitation. “Is this real?” you murmur, your mind swirling with the vivid dreams you’ve procured over the years. “You’re really here, right? And you really…”
“I love you,” he says again. He says it one, two, three more times, whispering into the side of your neck and he nudges himself into the empty space. His lips, which are cold against your blistering heat, brush against your earlobe as he all but whimpers your name. “This is real. I’m here, baby.”
You can’t help but believe him, your eyes closing as he presses kiss after kiss on your skin, moving down your neck until he’s reached your collarbones. He nips at the spot, his tongue jutting out to soothe the darkening mark he’s left behind. “Sho,” you scold weakly, your nails scraping against his scalp gently as you brush his hair out of his face.
Shoto grins boyishly at you, his hands resting on your hips as he guides you backwards, stepping over the forgotten pillow you dropped. “Let me show you,” he breathes out, looking down at you with wide eyes until he has you sat on the edge of your unmade bed. “Let me show you how much I love you.”
Then, he pauses, a brief flash of bashfulness flickering behind his embering gaze. “Please?”
You’re reaching out for him before you can answer, tugging him down to your height. You don’t reply with words, pressing desperate lips against his as you pull him over you until he’s pinned over your trembling body. Strong forearms rest beside your head, his skillful tongue swiping along the seam of your mouth. You almost moan at his taste—a taste you never forgot.
Shoto slants himself against you, your bodies resembling a mess of limbs. He flips you over with ease, strong hands gripping your hips to seat you atop his shaking lap. The shivers that run down the expanse of his body don’t go unnoticed, and you peck his lips once, then twice, before pulling away. He’s staring up at you breathlessly, lust-blown eyes dark but widened as he takes in the sight of you.
“Are you okay?” you whisper, stroking along the edge of his scar. Shoto leans into your palm, his eyes briefly fluttering closed, relishing in your warmth that he was deprived of for so long.
“I’m okay,” he murmurs back, brushing his lips against your palm. “I’ve just missed you so much.”
Your heart aches at his soft-spoken admission, and you kiss him again to tell him I missed you, too. This kiss is sweeter than the last, softer in its closed-mouth motions. His hand reaches up to palm your jawline, his other remaining on your hip. He sighs into you, breaking the kiss to leave fleeting pecks over your cheeks. “My pretty girl,” he whispers into your skin.
His hand trails up and down your side, as he gently pushes you against his growing erection. You let out a whimper at just how hard he already is, the tent pushing against your clothed cunt teasingly. Grinding your hips down, you relish in the gasp Shoto lets out. Busying his hands with the hem of your loose tee, he pushes himself off of the bed to chase your lips.
Shoto kisses you with a fervour you damned yourself for running away from. He kisses you like he needs your taste on his tongue to live, like you’re a lifeline, and he’s teetering on the edge. Gentle teeth scrape against your bottom lip, just barely grazing your swollen skin. Pulling away to rid you of your top, Shoto bites his lips at the sight of your bare chest. He lays back, propping his head up on your pillows. Tracing a hand down his strong pecs, you tilt your head back at the sight of his complete enamour.
Red cheeks hollow as he takes in a shuddering breath, looking up at you with nothing but love and adoration. “You’re perfect,” he breathes out, his hands tracing your sides so slowly. His thumbs, calloused from years of hero work, barely graze the underside of your breasts before his hands trail back down to your thighs.
“Take these off f’me,” Shoto urges, tugging gently on the fabric of your shorts. Those dark eyes never leave your face, as though he’s committing it to memory.
You don’t hesitate to obey his request, shifting off of his lap just enough to tug off the last of your clothing, fingers dipping beneath the band of your panties to take them off as well. Shivering, you sit back down on his lap, biting down on your bottom lip as you lean back. Shoto makes it clear how much he appreciates the view you’ve given him, his lustful gaze caressing your entire self. His eyes land on the apex of your thighs, and his bitten lips part in admiration.
A wide hand rests on your tummy, just below your belly button, as he gently pushes your hips back and forth. His other hand finds its way to your ass, gripping and rubbing the skin there in tandem with your movements.
You let out shallow breaths at the feeling of his rough jeans against your bare clit. You’re sure you’re sopping wet already, soaking the front of his pants with your slick, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when he’s looking at you like he’d cry if you stopped grinding down on him.
His eyes stay glued to where your hips meet, and he whispers your name lovingly. “C’mere,” he rasps out as he sits up with haste, wrapping those big arms around your midsection and pulling you even closer to him. Shoto kisses the tops of your breasts, moving up and up until his lips meet yours again in a searing kiss.
“Missed you s’much,” he gravels out against your lips, reaching up to cup your left tit. You whimper out when his thumb brushes against the hardened bud, his tongue following shortly after. His lips curl around your nipple as he kneads into you. Breaths leave your throat in shortened huffs as he bites down gently.
Pushing you gently, you find yourself on your back again with Shoto hovering over you. He lets go of your nipple with a pop, lips shiny with saliva as he kisses down your stomach. Arching into his affections, all you can do is lay there and bask in his gentle touches and sweet kisses.
“Sho,” you whimper out when he mouths your skin lower and lower. Strong hands push your hips up until your dripping cunt is in front of his face, and your legs are dangling over his shoulders. Your back arches deeply, his fingers digging into your sides to keep your bottom half suspended in the air. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten—you can’t recall the last time you’ve felt this aroused. “Please…”
Shoto smiles at you softly, looking at you through his lashes as he brushes his lips against your clit, making you jolt. “Patience, baby,” he chuckled. “I haven’t tasted your sweet pussy in too long. Let me take my time with you, yeah?”
When he asks so nicely, how can you refuse?
He leaves open-mouthed kisses where your inner thigh meets your pelvis, kissing and licking just around where you need him most. Pathetic moans slip through your wobbling lips as you press them together, trying not to be too loud. Your body is goo in his hands, and he knows this well. He easily keeps your back arched up off the bed, his beefy arms not straining at all.
When his lips finally close on your weeping cunny, you cry out louder than intended. “Shh,” he whispers, sitting back just far enough to leave you whimpering for more. “Don’t wanna wake the baby, do you?” Those teasing eyes meet yours again, and his teasing expression softens ever so slightly at your already fucked out look. “Be good and quiet f’me, love.”
“Okay,” you stammer out, screwing your eyes shut when he kitten licks at your slit.
Shoto kisses your inner thigh with a grin. “Good girl.”
Without missing a beat, he attaches his lips to your pussy once more, his skilled tongue licking and prodding exactly where he knows it makes your legs shake in pleasure. He eats you out with such expertise as if it hasn’t been over two years. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had a map of your body memorized.
Long, thick fingers push at your entrance, just barely pushing in before pulling out. “More, please,” you beg under your breath, arching into his mouth. “Please, Sho. I can take it.”
Shoto hums as he sucks on your clit gently, drawing circles over the bundle of nerves immediately after. “I know you can, baby. This pussy was made just for me,” he sighs into you, the loud slurping noises coming from the point of contact making you curl in on yourself. “You were made just for me, baby.”
He finally pushes two fingers in, curling up just how you like it. He groans as his tongue moves with ardour, his eyes rolling back behind closed lids as he savours your taste. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “Missed this s’much.”
Shoto’s fingers push in and out, in and out, your slick gushing around them as the filthy sound of your clenching cunt fills the room. His lips are glued to your clit, drunk on your wetness as he fingers you deeply.
“I’m close,” you warn him, gripping the sheets tightly. Your body jerks, your thighs shaking and closing around his head as you feel the string in your tummy grow taught. “Sho—”
“I know,” he growls, kissing your clit again as he looks back up at you. He watches your face twist and scrunch in pure pleasure, moaning at the sight. Pushing a third finger in, his eyes slip closed at the feeling of you clenching tightly around him. “Come for me, baby. Need to feel you come.”
His voice drips with honey, coating your body in its warmth as your back bends. “Fuck,” you cry, slapping a hand over your mouth as your thighs tremble hard. “I—”
Before you can say anything else, you’re cumming around his fingers harder than you ever have in the time away from him. Fat tears line your lashline as he fingers you through your orgasm, lazily licking figure eights around your clit as he continues to push his fingers into you gently. He doesn’t stop, making you come again and again until you’re weakly pushing his head away.
His tongue laps your pussy clean, the lower half of his face covered in your slick when he finally sits back. You watch with lidded eyes as he wraps his lips around his fingers, his tongue jutting out to lick them until they’re no longer soaked with your essence. Moaning, you reach up for him, grasping weakly at his clothed chest. “Need you,” you plea, pushing at his clothes in a sad attempt to take them off.
Shoto only chuckles, leaning over to kiss you. He tastes of mint and musk, the taste of your come on his tongue making your eyes cross. He holds you tight, pressing you against his chest, and his hands run up and down the length of your spine. His head tilts, his mouth ajar as he licks into your wet cavern.
Leaning back, you kiss and lick at his face, cleaning him of your juices. He only sighs blissfully at your ministrations, stroking your hair out of your face as he presses his lips against your temple. “I love you,” he murmurs. “God, do I love you.”
You leave one more kiss along his jaw, settling back onto the mattress as you look up at him. His hair is messy, tousled from the many breathless kisses you’ve exchanged in the last hour. His rouge-tinted cheeks make him look younger than he is, yet you can see fine lines at the corners of his eyes and between his brows.
“I love you, Sho,” you declare softly, tucking his long bangs behind his ears. He gazes at you with more affection than you think you’ve ever seen him express, and it takes everything in you not to combust on the spot. You trail one hand down his chest, dropping down to his tented pants. Palming his clothed hardness, you glance at him pleadingly, smiling at the moan he emits the second your hand grazes his hard-on. “I need you now, please.”
Shoto nods, kissing the crown of your head before leaning back. You watch with careful eyes as he undresses, his hands moving with less grace than he’s known for. As he fumbles off his shirt, you unbuckle his belt, throwing it haphazardly across the room. You barely register the thud it makes as you tug down his pants. His hard cock slaps against his abdomen, coated with precum.
Fully nude, you sit back to admire Shoto in his entirety. There are many scars you don’t remember littered over his muscled body, and your fingers trace them gently. “I almost forgot how pretty you are,” you say, sitting up to kiss his collarbone.
“Pretty?” he repeats, laughing softly as he grips at your waist.
You hum. “Very pretty, Sho.”
Unable to wait any longer, he manoeuvres you back onto the pillows, adjusting you as he places one beneath your hips. “Gotta have you now, baby,” he groans into you, reaching down to fuck into his fist. You watch with wide eyes as he rubs himself for a moment more, pushing your thighs up against your chest.
Pushing his angry cockhead against your slit, he thrusts shallowly against your soaked pussy. A low moan rumbles out of his throat when his head catches on the hood of your clit. He uses a thumb to guide his length to your entrance, a whimper of your name tumbling from those bite-swollen lips once he finally pushes into you.
Your jaw drops as a wanton noise claws out of your throat. Shoto is sure to move slowly, only moving in an inch of his dick at a time before pulling out. You had forgotten how thick Shoto’s cock is, the stretch of your swollen pussy around his length burning through your body. “S-Sho…”
He groans at your voice, dropping his head to your shoulder as he fucks into you slowly. “I know, baby,” he lets out breathlessly. “I know. You’re doing so well f’me.”
His hips finally press against you after some time, his dick pushing against your pulsing gummy walls. He stills, letting you get used to the intrusion as he kisses you again and again. Propping himself on his elbows, he shakily brushes your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead. “You okay, baby?”
Nodding fervently, you wrap your arms around his neck, pushing his chest flush against yours. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out weakly, barely above a whisper. “You can move—” correcting yourself, you look up at him with pleading eyes. “—please move.”
Without another word, he pulls out slowly, only to thrust back into your hole nice and deep. A loud groan leaves his lips as he settles into a quick tempo, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs as he starts to really fuck into you.
Barely keeping your eyes open, you watch his expression twist with gratification, his brows tilting upwards as his lips part. With lidded eyes, he watches you, too. “You’re—fuck—so pretty,” he whimpers, pressing his forehead against yours as his thrusts become faster. “Missed you. Missed you s’much.”
Sitting up, he grabs at your waist as he fucks you zealously. His thumb flicks at your clit, rubbing tight circles that leave your legs shaking. His cockhead rubs at that spongey spot in your cunt with every thrust, making your eyes roll back. “Sho,” you cry out, the thought of keeping your voice down long gone in your pleasure. “Sho, Sho—!”
His mouth opens as he lets out a stunted shout riddled with lust and overstimulation. “You’re so fucking tight,” he grins down at you, his stomach flexing with each movement of his hips. “Fuck, baby. Can feel you clenching around me s’tight. Are you close?” His words come out harshly, exertion tugging them from his throat sluggishly.
His thumb never stops over your clit, moving in tandem with his hips as he slams into you. Unable to form coherent words, you can only cry out in vague confirmation, grabbing at his forearms. You can feel your slick dripping down the slope of your ass, soaking into your pillow and the sheets beneath you.
Shoto’s smile falters as he feels his own orgasm near, his rhythm becoming desperate as his eyes screwed shut. His head drops, his mouth opening slightly as he chases his high. When your cunt grips tightly around him, he’s sure he’s going to lose it. Harsh breaths heave out of him, his flushed skin causing his hair to stick to his forehead.
“Come for me again, baby,” he begs, barely able to pry his lids open to look down at you. “Please, come, please, please… Gotta feel you…!”
Whether it’s from his words, the whimpering tone that tugs at his voice, or the way his cock throbs inside you as he nears his own high, you feel your orgasm crash over you in waves. “Shoto,” you sob, your body jerking violently as you come hard. He lets out a high-pitched groan as he releases inside you, his thick seed filling you up in seconds. His hips tremble and twitch as he keeps shallowly thrusting, pushing both you and himself into overstimulation.
“I love you,” he mewls, pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. Without pulling out, he slumps over you, knocking the air out of your lungs.
Laughing quietly, you weakly push at his shoulder. “You’re heavy,” you complain, still breathless from the countless orgasms he’s pulled you through. “Get off, Sho.”
“No,” he murmurs into the nape of your neck, cuddling into you tightly. “Don’t wanna let go.”
You roll your eyes. “You can hug me without crushing my ribs.”
Huffing, he rolls off of you, taking you with him as he lands on his back. You both groan lowly at the movement, his dick twitching inside you once you settle onto his lap again. “You’re insatiable,” you comment, feeling him thrust weakly up into your wetness.
Shoto only grins up at you, showing off that rare smile you missed so dearly. “You can’t blame me,” he tells you, wrapping his arms around you. “I have so many years of love to show you.” He kisses your shoulder. “I meant it. Before, I mean. You are everything to me, and I know our baby will be too.”
Your eyes wet again, fresh tears bubbling at the corners before dribbling down your cheeks. “Shoto…”
Looking up at you, he stares with an indescribable look in his mismatched eyes. “I wanna be in your life. I want to be in his life, too, if you’ll let me.” Leaning up, he kisses you sweetly. “So, please, come back to me.”
You only manage to nod tearfully before the shrill cry of your baby echoes throughout the house. Shoto eases you off his messy cock, watching as his release dribbles out of you. He lets out a breath, kissing you sweetly before moving you off of him gently. No words are exchanged as Shoto throws his clothes back on, wrinkled and unkempt. He pauses to wipe you clean, using your shirt, after throwing you an apologetic glance.
A smile reaches your eyes as you watch Shoto bound out of the room to get your child.
your bodies press together, your ass and his groin both bumping and moving with each other as the slow but steady music plays. your hands wander from his chest to his hips, feeling your walls ache and tighten from his cologne.
“baby,” he whispers, hands crawling up your skin under your shirt and groping your tits. fuck, they were sore and heavy, you had to either be ovulating or near your period. “are you fuckin’ horny?”
“know me so well, papa.” you smirk, your hips pressing deeper into his lap and he hisses. “been needing you since you got home from that mission.” your nipples pebble up, feeling his fingers twirl it around.
his heart races, feeling the shock go straight to his dick from those words alone. “yeah baby? fuckin beg for it then.” he demanded, hands gripping your hips and moving them back and forth on his clothed cock. “beg me to fuck you, yeah?”
“take me, make me take it all, katsuki.” you say, feeling him reach under your skirt and actually rip your panties in two.
it takes no effort for him to bend you over the hood of his car, licking his fingers and smearing the fluid on your cunny. “fuckin drippin for this cock, huh?” he mocks, a thumb already knuckle deep in your puckered hole and his cockhead seeping into your creamy walls. “fuuuuck, she remembers this dick so well.”
“katsuukiii..” you moaned, eyes already shut from the sensation and sensitivity from it all. and what, he was only ten thrusts in and youre about to cum.
“nut all on this dick, mama.” he encouraged, kissing your earlobe and rolling his neck. “huuuh— fuck!” he shouts, hips still moving in a synchronized motion with your hips. “gonna make you feel it all, god im gonna die like this.”
“What are you thinking about?” Oh nothing just how when you and Shouto have kids, suddenly THE AMOUNT OF BUCKWHEAT NOODLES YOU BUY AND CONSUME MULTIPLIES.
Like can you imagine when you and him are dating or already married and being all so cute, you’re the designated chef because baby boy for the life of him cannot cook (i promise he learns *later* on in his life and career)
So lets say when its just you two eating cold soba, you only need 1 pack of noodles
But when you have the twins? (Aki and Haru :)) Okay, what’s something solid that’s not baby food but soft enough for the boys to eat? Cold soba! So you and Shou mush up the noodles into smaller pieces and spoon feed them.
Hey, they like it! Chubby cherub cheeks (inherited from both you and Shouto) full as they munch on the noodles, satisfied smiles on their faces. Let’s go buy another pack of noodles so there is enough food!
So now you consume two packets.
Oh wow! You have two more twins (Yuuri and Yueru <3) and suddenly the situation is the same! ya’ll end up needing three packets!
“It could be worse.”
Oh yeah it does and when they get older, suddenly three packets turns into four.
And then poof! Little Hana comes along! Sweet and angelic—apparently also eager to eat cold soba at the ripe age of 1! and now everyone needs lunch and dinner
And just your luck, ALL OF YOUR KIDS EAT UP COLD SOBA
omg imagine if one of their first words is “soba” IM CRYING 😭😭
like ik that makes dinner easy but COME ON ARENT THEY SICK OF EATING THE DAMN NOODLES EVERY DAY??
"Honey, what do you want for dinner?" "Cold soba."
"Yuuri! What do you and your sister want for dinner?" "Cold soba."
"Aki! Haru! What do-" "Cold soba." (in sync)
"Hana-chan! What does my princess want for dinner?" "Noodle!"
Shouto’s happy with all of his kids eating his favorite dish (more noodles = more cold soba in the week 😊)
You’re not having it tho 🙄🙄 so you make a new rule (much to his and their dismay)
“From now on, we are only having cold soba TWICE a week!”
so yeah just like that your household consumes 5 packets (to have a little extra for leftovers the next day that they will fight over) PER MEAL
oh you thought you were safe?
wait until they get older 😩😩
suddenly your middle-schoolers are having massive growth spurts (damn you Shouto’s genetics 😤😤) and your elementary twins are joining all of these extracurriculars!! (specifically Yue) so guess what? now you have to buy 7 packs! (8 if you want all of them to have lunch the next day)
the cashiers and stockers already know what to do when you walk into the store, carrying the youngest and dragging both pairs of twins with you to get a shopping cart
it’s not just home meals too 💀💀
when yall go out to eat at a japanese restaurant, if there is cold soba on the menu, THEY. WILL. GET. IT.
the pictures of them are so cute tho 🥺🥺 all of them at the dining table, chowing down on the same noodles, definitely a cute picture to send to your in-laws (Rei and Enji almost die from laughter and memories of Shouto as a kid)
also im going on a tangent but can you imagine Todoroki genetics being so strong that most if not ALL of your kids look like your husband 😐😐 Like excuse me what (the running joke is that everyone already knows who the father is and no one needs to ask)
IM SORRY ILL DEVELOP THAT LATER BUT ANYWAYSSS
you love ur little family of cold soba fanatics, and Shouto does too <3
hi!! i really wanted to ask you this before you go, i've recently started wondering when and why kane started calling reader mom. like how did it happen, im super curious 🤔
also love love love your work. i think i've read 'the contract' more times than i can count. i hope retirement serves you well and you're happy and healthy 💕💕
(p.s. you can ignore this if kane calling reader mom for the first time was already mentioned somewhere in a fic but i just missed it)
Hello sweetie!!
I don't know whether it was discussed or not, truth be told. I think it kind of just happened out of the blue.
Kane swallowed down hard as he saw you outside working in the gardens. Bunnies hopped around happily in the sunlight, binkies accompanying their movements in the grass. You had a hat on your head as you busied in watering the gardens.
Kane hesitated before drawing in a breath. "Uh... m-" He paused. He didn't know why he was so nervous. Why his palms were sweaty. He wasn't supposed to say this. Maybe he should ask you first. He furrowed his eyebrows. Toshinori told him to just say it so maybe he should just blurt it out. "Hey mom."
You paused as you looked up, expecting to see Toshinori. "Yes?" You froze for a moment seeing Kane. His ashen blond hair glowing in the sunlight. "Did... did you call me, Kane?" You asked softly.
He hesitated. You saw his ears turn pink as he tried to control his emotions. So he had called you, without even confessing to it.
You smiled, fighting tears as you stared at him. "Yes, baby? What is it?"
He hesitated. "T-thanks."
"For what?"
"You and Uncle Izuku got me my own room and a new laptop, and phone number and everything. You... you didn't have to do that." He said his eyebrows furrowing. You stopped the watering hose as you turned to walk over to him with a sad smile. "I promise, I'll pay you back!"
"Kane." You put a hand to his own. "All you have to do to pay us back is be happy and live your own life. That is all we want and all we need." You reached over and kissed his cheek making his ears burn a deeper shade of red. "Okay?"
Context: It's the night before Toshinori's birthday and your family finds his old baby blanket, and all the memories that it holds.
Note: Mention of struggling to conceive, just some domestic fluff with a hint of angst but fluffy till the end.
"Toshinori was borderline obese, dear God."
"HERO!"
"What?" He chuckled as he held a little photo of baby Toshinori.
A box of Toshinori's memorials were opened and put in the middle of the kitchen. It was the night before his eighteenth birthday. It was just three days before he needed to go to America for seven months.
Toshinori rolled his eyes. "I wasn't fat, I was just..." He tried to find the word for it as he leaned against the kitchen table as he thought about it, a hand to his chin. "Well loved."
Hero raised a single eyebrow not convinced. "You sound like dad justifying his second helping of food."
"Hm?" Lifting his head up was Izuku who was licking his fingers clean of cupcake mix. His wide green eyes looked around at his boys confused. "What did I do?" He asked innocently.
They chuckled at the sight as they continued to look at old photos.
"Here's one with baby Toshinori and baby Kane." Asahi stated, passing on the photo to Kane.
Kane stared at it. Him and his best friend sitting together. One baby with unruly green curls and a wide smile and the other with a rather confused looking expression and soft blond hair.
The blond scoffed at the sight.
Shoyo looked down the box and pulled put a knitted blanket. It was a rather big blanket but it was cute. It was made out of green squares with white borders with white bunnies in the middle of some of them. "Wow... can I have this, Toshinori?" The seven year old asked.
Toshinori looked to Shoyo but his eyes widened in surprise as he reached over and took the blanket from him. "It's binkie..." He let out softly. Green eyes looking over the blanket as if he hadn't seen a friend in a long time.
Kane scoffed amusedly. "Binkie?"
Toshinori nodded, "Yah..." He chuckled in a low tone. "My baby blanket. I... I haven't seen it in ages." He moved it around in his hands, feeling the soft wool. "I always thought it was weird, you know. It had so many squares."
"Twenty-five squares." Izuku stated, making the boys look to him. He had a fond smile on his face, however there was a cloud of saddness behind his eyes that the boys had never really seen before. "Your mother crocheted every single one of them."
You had gone silent, mostly watching them interact with Toshinori's memory box and answered any questions, but was overall silent. You mindlessly took the baking bowl away from Izuku and moved it into the sink where you would wash it while the cupcakes baked for tomorrow.
"Why twenty-five?" Toshinori asked confused.
Izuku opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. It was something the both of you had not talked about in a long time. It had been years really. Izuku scratched the back of his head as to come up with an appropriate answer.
However, his green eyes caught on you as you walked over to stand next to Toshinori. A smile that said a thousand words as you gently touched the blanket in Toshinori's large hands. You felt tears prick at your eyes. You opened your mouth to speak,
*over eighteen years ago*
You sat out on the porch, the moon and stars actually visible today as you leaned back in the hanging chair that you had. The rabbits were out and about tonight, seemingly having a field day by all the binkies that you saw. The grass was long now, reminding you to ask Izuku to cut it eventually.
Walking out of the house was your husband, his eyes on you as he saw your peaceful demeanour. He smiled gently as he walked over to you, down the patio steps into the garden. He was mindful of the rabbits, not wanting to hurt one as he made his way over to you.
You smiled up at him. You shifted in your little cocooned hanging seat, making him smile. "Well thank you." He said amusedly as he picked you up making you laugh and sat you down on his lap. You leaned back in his warm loving hold as you both just sat together for a moment. Izuku's eyes moved down to your lap where a ball of wool sat and you had what looked like a few lines going for you. "What are you doing?" He asked softly.
You turned to look back at him. His warm green eyes looking down at you with wonder and intrigue. Izuku always looked at you as if you could do no wrong, as if your very presence was something he liked to analyse and ponder on.
You looked back down at your lap. "I... am making a square." You reavealed to him.
Izuku took a moment as he noticed a little bag to the side. "A square?"
"A granny square."
He hummed, noticing the crotcheting language he was only just barely understanding. He then noticed that next to you was a tote bag. He mindleslly took it and looked inside. There was a ball of white wool that partnered with the green wool but he also noticed squares. Lots of squares. Just like the one you were making.
"My love," He started off, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked inside the bag. "What are you making?"
"A blanket." You answered simply.
"For what?" He asked gently as he held an already finished square and looked up at you.
You had a sad smile on your face as you looked down at the square you had in your hands. You continued to build on it as you talked to him, your hands needing to do something. You took a deep breath. "I made a square for every month that we got a negative pregnancy test."
Izuku tried his best not to tense as he looked down at the square. He didn't know that's why you had been making all the squares. He had noticed them before but you always said you were working on a little project, and he left you be. "And... how many squares are you on now?"
You were silent for a moment as you watched your hook and the finger work in tandem together. Mindlessly working to accomplish a goal. "Twenty-five."
The both of you were silent for a painful moment. You busied yourself with your crocheting, not really wanting to look at him and his feelings towards this. You knew your Izuku was a good man. He had always been a good man to you, but this was something that you thought a man wouldn't understand why it was so pressing for you.
"Sweetheart," His large hands came over yours to stop you from what you were doing. His touch was gently and comforting, despite his calloused and scarred hands. You looked at his hands as you paused in your work. Your eyebrows twitched and you turned to look back at him.
Your eyes widened. Warm green eyes, the colour of the world itself, looked at you with tears brimming in them. Izuku hated being a crier but sometimes there was no other way to communicate how overwhelmed he was. He shifted so that you could look at him properly. "Why didn't you tell me you were working on this?" he asked, genuine concern and emotions brimming in his voice. "I thought we agreed that we're on this journey together?"
Your hands were shaking in his grasp as you tried not to get overcome with emotions yourself. "I..." You smiled trying to push back any sadness you felt. "I didn't want to worry you."
"You didn't want to worry me? Sweetheart." Izuku tilted his head. "Of course this worries me. I'm your husband. Everything that worries you, worries me."
"I don't want you to be upset about this just because I am, Izuku."
"That's not true, Y/N." He stressed for you to look at him, letting go of one of your hands to put his hand under your chin to look at him. "Do you think I'm not frustrated too? That I'm not upset too? That I'm not angry at God and whatever hormonal nonsense that's happening in our bodies that's denying us something that we crave?" He asked with a painful chuckle as he looked down at you. "Y/N, I want you to have my baby. I want you round and pregnant and waddling around our house. I want to wake up and go fetch you whatever your craving at horrible hours of the night. I want to look at you and know that inside the woman I love," He cupped the side of your face brushing away a stray tear. "is a life that we made together, no matter how small, but ever so unique.
But." He continued. "Even if it takes us five, twenty, the rest of our lives. I'll wait. Your worth waiting for, this is worth waiting for." He smiled at you despite the tear marks on his face. "So please, talk to me whenever your frustrated or sad. I can see it in your eyes, Y/N."
You tried your best not to cry but you had failed long ago. You squeezed your eyes shut as you leaned into his embrace. Your arms wrapping around him. "I'm sorry." You whispered brokenly.
Izuku shook his head as he held you safely. "Don't ever be sorry, my love. Look on the brightside, our baby will have a pretty large blanket made from so much love." He stated truthfully.
You couldn't help but giggle at his poor attempt of lightening up the mood. "You are a wonder to me, Midoriya Izuku."
He cupped your face and made you look up at him. Nothing but love in his eyes and in his drunken expression. "You are everything to me."
Toshinori froze as he blinked, taking that all in. He looked back down at the blanket all of a sudden feeling as if it was the heaviest blanket in the world. "You guys never told me that you struggled to have me." He said oddly quiet.
You shrugged. "What was there to say. We finally had you." You said optimistically with a smile. "Then all your brothers." You teased as you put a hand to Shoyo's head who smiled up at you brightly making you chuckle. "Everyone has something I've made."
Asahi's eyes sparked as if remembering something. "You made my glasses cases." He remembered. Izuku nodded, remembering all the pairs of glasses Asahi had gone through since he was a baby.
Hero's eyebrows furrowed. "Why did you make me so many socks?" He asked confused, not seeing the sentimental value in socks.
Izuku laughed at that one. "You nearly sent your mom to the ER for a a broken rib, twice because of your kicking." He stated truthfully. You sighed, happy that it was just one of your sons that tried to murder you in pregnancy.
Well... minus Koda.
"I made you socks for every outright rude kick and until you could finally leave me the hell alone and kick the outside world." You stated teasingly shoving him.
Hero paused for a second before putting on a smug smile on his face. "Huh... sounds like something I would do."
Shoyo thought for a second. "You made me my stuffed bunnies!" You nodded. "Why is the biggest one rainbow coloured?" He asked confused.
You hesitated as you glanced at Izuku.
Hero scoffed. "Obviously it represents Asahi."
Asahi looked to his brother. "Dude?!
You felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked over at Kane. The blond boy didn't say anything but he looked at you, silently saying that he saw you. You smiled. "That's a story for another time." You chuckled.
You turned to look at Toshinori who was just looking at his baby blanket. His eyes were brimmed with tears as he sat in silence, letting talk go around him as he looked at the squares. Izuku furrowed his eyebrows as he walked over to Toshinori, picking up on it too.
"Toshi?" He put a hand on Toshinori's shoulder.
Toshinori didn't say anything immediately as he just stared at the blanket. "You... you waited so long for me." His voice was soft, almost like a whisper. His eyebrows furrowed.
"Of course we did." Izuku said with a smile.
Toshinori looked up at his father and then to you. You smiled as you walked over to him, putting a hand to his face as you kissed his forehead. You looked down at the blanket. "That blanket has been through a lot. To think that it would finally be held in such big hands." You laughed with tears in your eyes. "Oh my baby is so big now." You threw your arms around him with a squeeze. "But I guess tomorrow you won't be a baby anymore."
For the first time in his life, Toshinori understood why you and his father were so close to him. It never really made sense. He knew the pressures he had with being the eldest son in the Midoriya family and being the only one with One for All. He knew all that but he never really understood the gravity in the eyes of you and his father.
The two of you had waited for years. You never gave up once. You waited, hoping someday that he'd be in your arms.
Until he was.
Toshinori leaned into your hold with a scoff and a smile, ignoring the Midoriya sized tears in his eyes.
To think... that you and Izuku loved him before he was even a reality.
Toshinori didn't think he could be loved any more than that.
-Glitch1d
A/N: This one means a lot to me. Either way. on the 08/17/2024 I'll be putting up the Midoriya Family Shenanigans and the Cheating DILF Izuku series up onto AO3.
Hii I love your writing, it's so good! Can I request a fic for shoto in which they're kids and the reader's parents had a quirk marriage too and she's worried her parents will force her to marry someone so she asks shoto to marry her and they have a fake kid wedding where they get fuyumi to "officiate" it and natsuo is the flower girl(lol I'm dying just thinking about kid natsuo throwing flowers in a dress) but they act like a married couple even when they're both in UA(she's also in 1a). Please please please I would really appreciate it! But it's completely fine if it's something you're not comfortable with! <333
ɪ ᴅᴏ!
includes: shoto todoroki
fem!reader
a/n: finished right before i had to leave for therapy 😚 i thought this was so cute but i didn't know how to end it but i hope u like it <3
you still remember the warm, summer day you went over to the todoroki household for the first time. you were 5, your parents had been arguing and your nanny thought it’d be good to get you out of the house. you remember holding tightly onto your nanny’s hand, the skin made soft by the lotion she always kept on her.
you watched as she shook a white-haired woman’s hand, her expression timid but welcoming. your eyes drift down to see 3 other children, your eyes lighting up at the sight. a girl and a boy, both with primarily white hair watch you from a few feet behind their mother, their expressions curious, and in front of them, clinging to his mother’s pant leg was a boy with half white and half red hair. you felt your nanny’s hand on the back of your head as you looked up at her.
“go play, i’ll be with mrs. todoroki,” her hand slides down to your back before gently nudging you towards the children before following mrs. todoroki out of the room. suddenly all eyes are on you and you want to shrink. your little hands fiddle with each other before the girl walks up to you. she has an eager smile on her face and you can tell she’s older than the other two, as you have to slightly crane your neck to see her before she crouches down.
“i'm fuyumi,” she says, her hand gesturing to herself, “i'm twelve.”
she then points towards the white haired boy, “that's natsuo, he’s eight,” her finger moves to point at the smaller boy, “and that’s shoto, he’s five. there’s also touya, but he’s out in the forest right now.”
her head turns back to you and her lips form a soft smile once again, slowly warming you up. “i’m (y/n), i'm five too,” you say shyly, keeping your focus on fuyumi. her smile widens as she turns to shoto, “you hear that, sho? she’s your age.”
you watch him nod shyly, his cheeks pink as he breaks eye contact, tilting his head to look at the ground. “he's just a little shy, nothing to worry about!” fuyumi states, smiling once again.
“can we go play again?” natsuo groans, crossing his arms as he raises an eyebrow at fuyumi. she sighs, her hand moving to her hip as she stands up again, “yes, let’s go.”
she begins walking, brushing past natsuo as he turns to follow her into the courtyard. you watched her go, unsure if you’re permitted to follow, but before you can question any longer, shoto’s chubby little hand grabbed yours and began trailing after his siblings. the hand holding yours is cool to the touch, a good aid for the sticky summer air.
you and shoto sit on the stairs as natsuo grabs a ball, kicking it to fuyumi. she laughs as she returns it, the two of them kicking the ball back and forth. you turn your head towards shoto, gazing at him through your hair, “you’re not gonna play?”
he shakes his head, “i don’t get to play a lot, and i don’t really feel like playing,” he murmurs and you hum in response, burying your chin in your arms as they rest atop your knees.
“do you get to play?” he asks, his two-toned head turning towards you. you shrug before lifting your chin from the juncture of your arms, “i'm allowed to, i just don’t have anyone to play with.” you say, watching as natsuo and fuyumi laugh and run around, “my parents argue a lot, s’cause they married for quirks ‘nd not love,'' you say, your five-year-old mind not having any idea of a filter.
“same with mine,” shoto says, his eyes still trained on you.
“mine might make me get a quirk marriage,” you say, looking over at shoto once again before your eyes widen at him.
“what?” he mutters, his cheeks flushing once more as you smile and grab onto his arm. “we could get married, that way you and me don’t get pushed into a quirk marriage,” you exclaim, your lip getting caught between your teeth as you wait for shoto’s response.
“okay,” he mutters, his focus on the way you're holding onto his arm. you get up, grabbing his cool hand once more to pull him up before hurrying over to fuyumi and natsuo, “me and shoto are getting married.” you say as fuyumi looks down at the two of you.
“oh, you are now?” she asks with a grin as shoto and you both nod.
“alright then,” she says cheekily before grabbing natsuo and telling him to grab a dress from her closet and flowers from the garden.
after a few minutes, natsuo comes back and fuyumi bullies him into being the flower girl as she proclaims herself the officiant, with the reasoning that, “she actually knows what to say.”
during that time, shoto had run into the house to his mother before shyly saying he was marrying you and needed a ring. rei chuckled before getting up from her seat, muttering a small, “be right back,” to shoto and your nanny.
she comes back a few minutes later, a small, dainty, ring in hand. She crouches down, holding it out in front of shoto.
“will this work?” she asks and he nods, thanking his mother shyly before running back out to the courtyard.
once everyone’s back in the courtyard, fuyumi began to orchestrate everything. she calls shoto over to her, where she’s set up a small arch made of ice. she stands under it as she guides shoto to the little ‘x’ she drew in the ground. she tells natsuo to “just throw the flowers on the ground while you walk,” before walking back to you, crouching before you.
“and all you gotta do is walk behind natsuo, got it?” she smiles as you nod. she pats the top of your head affectionately before walking back to her officiant spot.
natuso begins walking as he hums the wedding march, tossing bits of flowers across the ground. you follow behind him a few feet, your hands fiddling with themselves once again, almost as nervous as when you first got here. natsuo makes it to the arch before moving to stand behind shoto, and as he moves out of your view, you make eye contact with shoto. your shoulders relax and you let out the breath you were holding as you walk to the ‘x’ fuyumi drew out.
“now, hold hands,” fuyumi directs and you and shoto obey, both of his hands moving to grab your fidgeting ones.
she begins reading out the officiant script, cutting out the longer parts in the middle, before she finally gets to the end, “shoto, do you take (y/n) to be your wife?” she bends down slightly as she asks, watching as he nods.
“you have to say ‘i do’” she says and he repeats it, muttering out a small “i do,”
“and do you, (y/n), take shoto to be your husband?” she turns to you, as you nod and say “i do,”
fuyumi straightens up, a grin on her face as she proclaims, “then, by the power not vested in me, i pronounce you husband and wife!” her hands move to her hips as she rests her weight on one leg, “now give the bride a little kiss on the cheek.”
shoto leans forward, gently planting a soft kiss on your chubby cheek, and the two of you hear a camera shutter, before turning to see shoto’s mom and your nanny watching the two of you, a camera in rei’s hand.
“we've got to go now, (y/n), we’ll come back another day, hm?” your nanny reaches out her hand for you to grab. you almost run over to her before shoto grabs your little hand.
“you almost forgot the ring,” he murmurs as he slides the slightly-too-big ring onto your ring finger. you grin as you kiss his little cheek in thanks.
“i’ll see you soon,” you murmur before running off to your nanny, her soft hand taking hold of yours, commenting on the little ring you received.
and that was the beginning of you and shoto’s relationship. the two of you have never explicitly stated that you two are together, but you’ve always been with shoto. you've been ‘married’ to him since you were five, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
your head turns as you look at shoto, sitting on one of the dorm couches, your hand in his as he plays with the little wedding ring he gave you over a decade ago. you smile at him as he glances over, and you lean your head in to give him a small kiss on his cheek.
“i'm glad you asked me to marry you,” shoto mutters, his eyes flickering down to the ring his fingers continue to fidget with.
“i'm glad you agreed,” you giggle before mina stops dead in front of you, “did i hear the word marry?? you two are married??”
you laugh at her reaction, patting the seat next to you for her to sit so you can explain how you’re ‘married’ to shoto.
flufftober except it gets progressivley later bc i'm busy - no.1
ceo deku things
- It's the way he's so into his work, dedicated to finishing it up days before their deadlines. What a workaholic. But as his secretary, it's your duty to assist. Not only are you there to manage databases and arrange appointments for him, you're there to support him and help him learn to take a break for himself once and a while. Though you can't but admire his concentration, sitting behind his large desk and typing away at his computer.
__
"Uhm excuse me, Mr. Midoriya." You stand idle next to his desk, piled with folders and other work material. He continues typing at his computer, too absorbed to notice your presence. "Mr. Midoriya." You place a gentle hand on his shoulder, which almost startles him.
"Oh, I'm so sorry Miss Y/n!" He turns his rolling chair towards you, now giving you his full attention. "Did you need something?" His hands are crossed on his lap, eyes gazing up at you.
"No sir. I just think it would be wise for you to take a break as of now. Staring at the screen for so long isn't good for the eyes. You should go outside for a walk maybe. Get some fresh air." Your hands and crossed loosely in front of you. Deku smiles.
"You're right, Miss Y/n. I'll be taking a break now." He stands up from his chair and heads for the door. As he's about to exit, he stops at the doorway and turns his head to you. "...a walk you said...Would you care to join me then? On a walk I mean."
"Oh. I'd love to, sir. Really I would, but.." You gaze shifts down to the paperwork on your desk.
"No, don't worry about that. Just...come with me."
__
- Ok but the way Deku sends business is emails is oddly...attractive? The way the sentences are constructed so professionally, the ranges of vocabulary. What's funny is that the same way he emails higher-ups is the same way he texts, sending a paragraph on something much less needed.
__
Izuku: Miss Y/n,
What are your thoughts between polyester suits and cotton suits? I am currently looking forward to purchase one for the upcoming presentation. Cotton suits may go swimmingly for the nice feel, but the material may not be so strong as the so said polyester. I'm afraid it would me unmatched against my laundry machines. Polyester is unbearable to wear for me, especially in suits. There is no breathability in the fabric, the unnatural chemicals are not made for constant skin contact. Though polyester lacks in comfort, it makes up in its designated design. I find myself struggling between the two. Do you mind as to giving your personal input for which I should purchase?
Thank you,
Izuku Midoriya
Y/n: what sir 💀
__
Intelligence is awfully attractive ain't it.
- Deku has always been easy on the eyes, not like the other top ranking corporates you've met at occasional at meetings. It does good on his part, easily winning the hearts and okays of collaborators. Though it does make you a bit jealous though, seeing them all head over heels around him. But that doesn't stop you from asserting yourself.
__
"Excuse me ladies. We're in the middle of something important here. Please pay close attention." You say taking their ogling stares off of Deku. They go back to chatting about the forms in front of them. He smiles, resting a gentle hand on your back. You tense up as he leans down to your ear, thinking he was going to tell you to come to his office after. Thinking he was going to lecture you later about not interfering with his presentation, but it something completely different.
"Don't worry, Miss Y/n. They won't do anything scandalous when you're around me." Deku says in a low whisper. You can't help but feel embarrassed with how close he is to you.
"Sorry, Mr. Midoriya. I- What?" It took a minute. for his sentence to register. "Can I ask why, sir?" At that moment he takes your hands in his and faces you towards him. You feel your face heat up as he holds them close to his chest.
"I told them that we're together." He smiles again, gazing down upon your flushed state.
"You what!?" You turn from Deku to meet the killer glints of the jealous ladies. Fortunately, they can't harm you since it's a professional environment. "But I'm your secretary!"
"Mhm. You're my secretary and my significant other." You find it a bit funny that that's how he refers to it.
"Mr. Midoriya." You pull your hands away from him and lead him to the far corner of the room. You cross your arms over your chest. As much as you loved Deku and wanted to play along, no strings attached, it didn't sit right with you. "The press will think it's abnormal. The company will. And we're not even together to start with. Do you think the chairman would be okay seeing the CEO and his secretary together? Do you think he'd believe you're doing you best work in the office?"
"..."
"I'm sorry, sir, but this is a highly unprofessional way just to keep scandals away from you. You-"
"Look at you. Always watching out for me and knowing what's best for me." He smiles once more resting both hands on your tense shoulders. "Listen, Miss Y/n. I don't care about what the people say. They can go ahead and stop representing our company and cut our contributors and such. But that wouldn't stop me from loving you. Secretary or not.-" You forcefully push his hands off of you. He looks hurt from the action and you regret it, but you have to be serious.
"There you go with the "love" "significant other" thing again." You frown, your voice growing louder with each word. I'm not playing with you, sir. I'm talking about you getting security or bodyguards Mr. Midoriya. This has nothing to do with me and you."
"Oh this has plenty to do with you, Miss Y/n." He has this cheeky grin on his face. "Because I love you." You blush.
"Ugh. Stop saying that!"
"No, I love you. I'll never get tired of saying it." At this point, you can't say anything to him at how silly he's being. You've never seen him act this way in such an important environment. You cross your arms and frown at him in disappointment. He then takes your hands again and holds them close to his chest. "I'm confessing my love to you right now, Y/n."
"..do-don't be silly, Mr. Midoriya you couldn't possibly be-" The chairman slide his chair out, creating an awful noise, and stands up in annoyance.
"Are you serious, Miss L/n!? Why are you being so dense!? He loves you!" He yells, his tone sounding frustrated. You were so confused. A million questions filled your mind, but only one muttered from your lips.
"...what?"
"I set this all up, Y/n. This meeting you arranged, the papers and signatures you're in possession of as of today, they're all fake. I set this all up for you." Deku closes his eyes and takes a steady breath, in and out and rests his eyes on your face. "Y/n, you've done so much for me throughout these years of working together. And it's not just the paper work I'm talking about. You've taught me how to love myself more and helped me through times I've really needed someone. Even the little things like telling me to take a break and keeping me from over working. That really means a lot to me. You care so much about me. Even now when you were just talking about the idea of security and guards and such...You're really sweet, Y/n." Once again, he takes your hands in his and holds them close to his chest. "I want to be the same for you. I want to keep you close and be there for you, tell you things you want to hear, so...will you um...go out with me?"
"..." He takes your silence in concern. "Sorry. I'm still in disbelief on how this was all put together. That has to be the most unprofessional confession my ears have had accustomed to listen to." Deku looks like he's about to cry. You smile. "Yes, of course. I love you too, Izuku."
__
Now you were definitely not expecting that. You were just so in shock about Deku being blind to the question. But in the end, it all came together. You were happy.
☆ synopsis: the first star you’ll be filming with is the subdued shōto, known for his attractiveness, and gentle yet firm treatment of co-stars. however, he’s best known as the only pornstar with the strict rule to never creampie girls.
☆ warnings: 18+ content, fem! reader, sho is in his 20s, romantic video theme (= loving sex), lots of kissing & making out, mating press, fingering, sho has a crush, creampies, crying.
☆ word count: 2.4K
SHOWTIME MASTERLIST.
a small amount of steam wafts out from the opening of the coffee container in your hand, along with the crisp scent of fresh peppermint tea from a nearby cafe. you take a sip of your own coffee as you wait for your costar to arrive. you haven’t even changed into your film clothes yet. fleeting footsteps can be heard as they pass by this set room in the hallway outside, as well as people chatting and laughing.
honestly, you had hoped shinsou would’ve set you up to film with another star.. the thought of meeting shōto made your insides flutter with nervousness and embarrassment. always voted highly in the audience attraction polls, you knew from his content that he’d been with so many different women who were likely more attractive than yourself. like many viewers, you too had a big crush on him.
shōto is a rather unique actor in the industry — born with split colored hair, beautiful heterochromatic eyes, a large dark birthmark around his left eye, and perfect genetics. his skin is supple and clear, his figure slender and fit. and of course, in many of his comment sections, you’d seen anonymous testimonies describing what it was like to film with him. the women always raved about his big dick, and how he used it so excellently, but, the most common critique of him in the comments was that he would never give creampies.
throughout the length of his entire career, UA’s shōto had never once creampied someone on camera. although every single costar of his had been briefed on his rule before filming, many still tried to wrap their legs around his waist, intending to break his strict rule. and of course, he would control himself until he finally got the opportunity to pull out. today, you vow that you wouldn’t wrap your legs around him or break his rule in any way.
the door opens and shōto easily strolls in, offering you a friendly smile. he’s already in his costume, shirtless and wearing promotional pajama pants for the video. “hi!” you exclaim, instantly regretting the obvious excitement in your voice, “it’s great to meet you, i’m y/n.” instead of introducing yourself with your pornstar name, you use your real one instead, then you thrust the hot peppermint tea towards him. shinsou had let you know it was his favorite drink, and that it would help you endear yourself to him.
“thank you so much,” he says earnestly, his pretty eyes shining with delight. “and the pleasure is all mine, i’m shōto.” he offers his hand and you shake it, immediately noticing the warmth and softness of his skin. adorned with a couple of rings, his fingers are large, with perfectly manicured nails.
the director, iida, marches over to the two of you with a smile. “y/n, let’s get changed and prepped please!”
“mhm,” you take one last gulp of your coffee before setting it down, and you leave the set, sauntering off to a nearby dressing room. a pink cheeked assistant kindly shows you your filming clothes. “thank you!” you head behind a curtain as she leaves, getting undressed quickly. on a hanger, a light pink lacy shirt waits for you to grab it, along with panties in the same color and style. once you’re fully changed, you grab the box that had been sitting on a stool; it’s a brand new vibrator, and a sticky note with instructions to use it before filming is on the back.
—
shōto alertly turns towards you when you return to the room in your lingerie top and panties. blue and gray eyes meet yours, and your face heats up even more than it had earlier.
“are you both ready to do this?” director iida asks enthusiastically, hand chopping the air randomly. “have you read over the expectations for this video ad?”
“already did before i got here,” you say, and shōto nods towards the energetic director, who then gestures for you to walk on set together. shōto stands in his place outside of the door he’ll be entering, a white towel draped over his shoulders. his hair is damp, sticking to the sides of his face ever so slightly from the shower he’d taken before he arrived.
the video you’ll be filming with shōto today is a romantic scene with a promotion for the lingerie and pajama pants brand weaved in. the video is meant to promote loving, natural sex, along with clothing items. at shiketsu studios, you’d never filmed any kind of romantic scene with anyone — the studio strictly focused on unrealistic porn, rough sex, etc. this is one of the best things about UA, one of the things that has built up quite the loyal audience over the years; directors and stars push out semi-realistic or full on fantasy content that appeals to everyone, regardless of their tastes.
you walk onto the set and take your seat on the nicely cushioned stool sitting right in front of the matching vanity. the mirror is sparkling clean, and all you can see in it is your makeup-less reflection, along with the decor of the room behind you. your vanity is in the corner, the freshly made bed in the middle, with nightstands on either side. the room is illuminated by the lamps on the nightstands, the light cozy and comforting. gentle music plays on a record in another corner of the room, the melody romantic and soft.
“action!” iida calls, and the cameras begin rolling with a clap! from the clapperboard. on cue, you push a piece of hair from your face and dip your fingers into a pot of body lotion. the silky cream glides over your skin, and you rub it in gently, looking relaxed as you watch yourself in the mirror.
from behind the open door, shōto watches you, mesmerized. your skin is soft and supple, glowing radiantly after you rub the lotion on. he’s practically got hearts in his eyes as he traces every inch of you, committing your body to memory without even having touched you yet. he wonders how you’ll sound crying out his name, twisting beneath him; how will you feel when he kisses you? the muscle beneath your skin ripples as you lift your arm, applying lotion to one of your shoulders. god, and your fingers— delicate, manicured, and looking oh so soft. hoping you’ll push them into his mouth, he looks at the director for the cue, and then steps onto the set.
shōto enters the room, rubbing the towel against the back of his head to dry his hair. you’re in the middle of rubbing lotion onto your legs when the first kiss lands against the nape of your neck. your body stills as soft lips trail across the slope of your neck, the touch featherlight yet incredibly arousing nonetheless. “you’re absolutely beautiful.” shōto’s whisper into your skin has heat rushing through your nerves, and your thighs clench as his hand tips your head to the side.
“need you, sho,” a shaky sigh leaves your lips, and his cock twitches in his pants at your voice.
your hand slides against shōto’s neck and your fingers twist into his hair, tugging lightly. he moans quietly, wrapping his arm around you. with you leaning into him, he slides an arm beneath your knees, effectively scooping you into his arms bridal style. his back hits the duvet first, and you straddle him, eyes fluttering shut as you press your lips to his.
delicious sounds escape his lips, muffled against yours. your hips slide forward, so that you’re positioned above his abs. his large palm finds your ass; he gives it a squeeze, then grips your hip and tugs you down against his abs. you can feel the tensing muscles through your thin, sticky panties. your head falls back as your swollen lips part from his, and you grind your hips down.
shōto’s muscles are nothing short of perfect, taut beneath you as you hump your clit against them desperately. wetness seeps through the panties, making his abs sticky with your slick. he groans, and with one swift movement, he flips you over and presses himself on top of you, scrambling to pull your panties down your legs and your shirt from the top of your head.
the delicate silk audibly rips, but it still comes off nonetheless. his lips eagerly meet yours again, and your hands find their way to the pajama pants hanging lowly on his hips; you wrench the pants and his boxers off him quickly, pushing them off the bed. blazing heat pools inside of your body, pussy twitching as he kisses and touches his way down your body.
not a single inch of skin is left untouched by his lips or his hands; you catch one of your hardened nipples between the pads of your fingers, and start to twist at the skin urgently. your back arches off the bed when he kisses your clit, fingers pinching down at the same moment he takes it between his lips and sucks.
“oh— shōto!”
“want me inside you, sweetheart?” the words roll off his tongue naturally, sounding genuine, not just like an act.
“y-yes, please.” shōto’s hands grip the backs of your knees as he folds you, your thighs pressing into your chest. he grips the base of his cock firmly, and it suddenly looks so much bigger than you could’ve imagined now that you’re facing it in person. his tip gleams with sticky precum, and veins are visible along the shaft. your breath and any words you may have wanted to say catch in your throat when his tip nudges between your folds. his face is flushed when he kisses the back of your thigh, eyes gleaming with need (is that affection you see too?). he drags his tip along your hole, collecting your slick on his cock before he fully pushes into you.
immediately, shōto’s eyes roll back into his head as he chokes out a guttural groan. his cock perfectly stretches you out, and fills you up. he gives an experimental thrust with his hips and inhales sharply; he develops a strong tempo, and skin slaps against skin loudly.
“is this okay?” he checks, looking at you with bright red cheeks and sweat gathering at his brow.
“it’s perfect,” you moan, “faster, please!”
obliging the second the words leave your lips, shōto fucks you the way you want. the push and pull between your bodies is much like the slow fire growing between the two of you since you’d met earlier. it’s inexplicable, and all you know is that it feels right.
shōto feels as though he’s on fire, heat burning in every limb, only growing hotter with each thrust of his cock into you. he tears his eyes away from your face, clenched in pleasure, to stare at where you’re both joined. your pussy grips his cock, trying to suck him back in the second he pulls back to thrust right back in again.
he’s always enjoyed his work as a pornstar, to an extent; having lots of sex is nice, but he doesn’t always have an instant attraction towards his costars. today, with you, he felt himself burning the second he saw you standing awkwardly, coffee and peppermint tea in your hands. he realizes that this is the best sex he’s had in a while.
“kiss me, sho,” you whine, and he does, his eager mouth meeting yours in a desperate clash of teeth against teeth, tongue against tongue. he licks deeply into your mouth, his tongue tasting like peppermint, yours like coffee. flavors mingle as your legs fall from your chest and spread out around him, your hands yanking him impossibly closer by his now almost dry hair.
a loud, choked sound leaves him, and he starts to pant heavily, “i-i’m close.. you feel so fucking good!” shōto sounds shocked at how embarrassingly fast he’s going to cum, but it doesn’t matter to you. for a moment, you wish he’d fill you up with his cum.
you kiss him again, this time nipping his lips with your teeth. he gasps sharply, hands rushing to your hips to pull you onto his cock. “shōto, cum for me, please,” you beg, tears flooding your eyes at the pleasure, your legs falling open further so you don’t accidentally wrap them around him.
shōto nods, his eyes shutting as his orgasm hits him like a train. he feels the cum rush from his base to his tip, the tight pressure causing his cock to thicken and throb. his eyes roll back into his head as he buries his cock inside you, releasing the pressure through strong spurts of cum. he’s shaking as he fills you up, and then he finally breathes again and meets your eyes.
you’re surprised, and delighted. he kisses you passionately once more before pulling away and out, and he instead settles himself at your side, his ring-decorated fingers slipping between your trembling thighs. your puffy hole flutters, and his thick cum drips out of you. before you can even register what’s happening, he’s fingering the cum back into you and then rubbing your clit in tight circles. your back bows right off the bed and you cry out, hips jerking towards his fingers feebly.
“a-ah, fuck! faster, sho, that’s so good!”
shōto nips at your neck as your eyes become lidded, the tempo of his fingers steady. groaning, you thrust up into his hand once more; “oh, baby, i’m gonna cum.” your fingers shove into his silky hair, gripping as gently as you can as the heat inside you bursts, moving through you in all directions.
almost immediately, your body goes completely limp as your thighs tremble and your hole flutters with the aftershocks of your orgasm. your head lolls back, arms and hands slack at your sides. shōto sweeps you into his arms, rubbing your back comfortingly. you settle against him, arms wrapping around his neck as you bury your face in his skin. shōto feels dampness against his neck, and quickly realizes that you’re crying, but he has no idea why. eventually, you pull back, swiping the wetness from your eyes.
“i’m sorry,” you smile awkwardly. “all of that just.. made me really happy.”
he laughs a little, his blush fading away. luckily director iida calls out from his chair — “cut!” film crew members walk onto the set with some clothes and warm wash cloths. you slide off the bed together, each take a cloth, and begin wiping yourselves up.
shōto offers you a small smile, pulling on a shirt, boxers, and pants as you pull clothes on too. “i enjoyed filming with you.. a lot,” he says bluntly, almost as though it wasn’t already obvious. “perhaps we schedule something for another one of my films? or we could have a soba lunch together at my favorite place in the city sometime?”
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