18+
you and shinsou reconnect before your wedding. things do not go as planned. cws: fem!reader, cheating, angst, some religious guilt, use of mind-control quirk in bed, degradation/humiliation, dubcon, use of she/her, reader referred to as woman, frequent pov changes sorry if that ain't your thing but i like to highlight how pathetically in love each party is
"would you ever try it with me?"
shinsou nearly drops his beer, his pants tightening to the point of pain.
"that's not the kind of thing you ask your best friend," he replies, even though his brain is already whirring through the fantasy like a movie reel. how long has he thought about you at his mercy? of you trusting him enough to make you cum so many times you begged him to stop?
you arch an eyebrow. "why not?"
"because i don't do that kind of thing in bed." he's surprised you don't faint right then and there, you look so stricken. but honestly, what were you thinking? springing this on him the first time he's seen you in months? "that's why you're asking, right? don't look so shocked—monoma already blabbed. i know you're getting married."
he leans in close, leering. he has no idea why he's so furious. (he does.) "you probably want to know what it's like with a freak before you settle down with mr. vanilla, huh?"
he should have expected the crack of your palm across his cheek. hurts like hell all the same.
your hands shake around your purse. "don't know why i bothered with this. you're right, okay? it sounds disgusting when you say it like that—but i've got elderly parents to take care of. my job barely keeps me alive. i know it's medieval, i know it's shit, but he's a good man who will support me. you can't keep people alive on dreams." you clatter out of the booth on shaky legs. "and monoma blabbed to me, too, you know. he told me why you're not satisfied with those women you bring home."
this time it's your turn to threaten his space. he drinks in your scent like water, his heart beating hard in his throat.
"because they're not me."
.
coward.
coward coward coward.
that's what you are, at the end of the day. you talk big, but you ran out of that pub as fast as you could, tears streaming down your face like a middle schooler.
it was crass, both what you said and how you said it. he had every right to turn you down.
you've thought about telling him you loved him perhaps a thousand times. from the first minute you saw him in your first year of college, sleepy eyes, messy hair, hoodie obscuring what you'd later discover to be hardened muscle and sinew.
the timing was never right, though, and before you knew it, settling down no longer felt like an option. it became a strategic play at survival in a flagging economy.
but it's shinsou that you think of when you touch yourself. it's shinsou who makes you slippery and warm, who makes your whole body feel like it could float into air at a simple touch.
not your fiancé.
you slow down to catch your breath, plopping down on a park bench. you've become the woman your mother always warned about, too distracted by what-ifs.
you nearly jump out of your skin when your phone rings.
"meet me at my place before i change my mind."
.
the deal was one night.
he's lost track of how many nights it's been since the first.
"it's okay, baby." he peppers small kisses to the inside of your thighs, breathing in your scent. "i'm right here." his tongue grazes over your clit and you jerk in his hold, hips bucking into his face.
"no more, 'toshi—"
"color?" he always commands it out of you, just in case.
"yellow," you admit dreamily, hands winding in his hair.
"good job, sweetheart." he pulls away, winding his way up your body and placing kisses to your tummy, your breasts. he licks a nipple between his teeth, listening to your breathing even out. "god job telling me what you need."
he still hasn't fucked you on his cock. he's used his fingers, his mouth, dildos. he's lost track of how many hours have passed by in bliss, how many times he's watched your sweet little mouth part in ecstasy.
your thighs are warm and soft in his hands. he tucks your legs around his waist, runs his clothed cock along the valley of your sopping wet cunt. your breath stutters; the animal in him howls in triumph.
"want it that badly, do you?" shallow strokes of his cock along your pussy—he feels her beating against his shaft, eager and ready. "like a good little whore. just waiting to be filled."
"toshi—" even now, you admonish him. he can't help but smile. "don't, don't say that—"
"why?" he scoops you into his lap. "because of how much you like it?"
you flush, burying your face into his neck.
you'll need more to cum again. he's already pulled three from you, and this next one -
"make me cum now, toshi. the way we both want you to."
.
to be loved is to be known. you've always thought that, and here hitoshi is, proving you right.
you know other people would find the two of you immoral. sinners, even, if your mind ran to damnation.
but when hitoshi touches you, the only thing you think of is how this is the happiest you've ever been.
"please, toshi." his thighs tense under yours, the only indication of his unease. "you know how much i trust you."
he chuckles, tipping your chin up and capturing your mouth with his. "i know, doll. that's part of the problem. i'm not sure i could walk away from you if we do this."
he smiles, a little sadly, eyes trained on yours. "but i'm hopeless when it comes to you. you sure about this?"
your heart thunders in your ears.
"never been more sure."
.
"good." his hand slides up the back of your neck, grip tight on either side. "tell me whose cock you need."
your gaze goes out of focus; your mouth goes slack.
he's never been harder in his life.
"yours," you say without hesitation, winding your arms tighter around his neck. your lips ghost over his pulse point. he draws you closer, adoration spiking his blood. god, how he'll ruin you. "yours, toshi."
"that's my girl," he coos.
he loses track of the commands, how many times he suspends both of your orgasms to the point of pain. he praises you the entire time, hoping it penetrates through the fog of his quirk.
"you sound so pretty, baby. letting out all those pretty noises just for me." he lets go of the quirk for a moment. holds his forehead to yours. the dip of your waist fits so perfectly in the palm of his hand that it nearly stops his breath. "ready, sweetheart?"
he teases you, weeping tip sliding into your warm heat by one inch. he has to physically restrain you from sliding down.
"why'd you stop?"
"you know why." he lets you sink down another inch or so. it's the most pleasurable agony he's ever experienced. "wanted you here when i made you mine."
"oh." your smile lights up your entire face. "that's a really good reason."
he takes hold of your mind again, gently, before bottoming out inside of you.
“cum.”
.
