announcementz: arctic analysis schedule out now!! please reblogs and like it up!! I love this series more than life so please give it even a fraction of that!! summary posted on the schedule!
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
-My Hero Academia-
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
izuku midoriya: ✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚
ride! (smut)
craft night (fluff)
blackwhip (smut)
rough day (smut)
lover boy (fluff)
yearner!midoriya (smut, short)
is that really all you've got? (smut)
worth it! (smut)
best of friends (smut)
did I stutter?! (fluff)
the symbol's shadow (fluff) pt 1
follow my lead (fluff) pt 2
your reason (fluff) pt 3
primal (smut)
bad week, happy ending (fluff/suggestive) pt 4
soulmate (fluff)
when did you get hot (smut)
overwhelmed (smut)
eijiro kirishima: ๋࣭ ⭑🎸⊹ ࣪ ˖ ✮
jealous!kiri (smut, short)
we're not going anywhere (fluff)
habits (fluff)
diamond in the rough (fluff)
all for you (smut)
enough! (fluff) pt 1
blooming flower (smut) pt 2
glowing (smut) (for some reason I cant link it, but its in the other parts) pt 3
katsuki bakugou: ‧₊ ᵎᵎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *💣 *💥~
best of friends (smut)
did I stutter?! (fluff)
we're not going anywhere (fluff)
is that really all you've got? (smut)
second chances (fluff)
whatever you say pretty boy (fluff)
birthday boy! (fluff)
present (smut)
hold you to it (fluff)
shouldve been me (angst, short)
short temper (fluff)
aftercare (fluff)
highschool sweethearts (fluff)
overwhelmed (smut)
denki kaminari: .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ϟ ⚡︎ ϟ ˖ ݁ 𖥔.
charged payment (smut)
way more (smut)
about time! (fluff)
tenya iida: 📖.•📎.★🌀.•
blurry vision (smut)
beefy!tenya (smut, short)
whipped! (fluff, suggestive)
hanta sero: ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆
tutor (fluff) pt 1
ace! (fluff) pt 2
mashirao ojiro: ‧₊˚💛✩ ₊˚🌼⊹♡
operation: tail match! (fluff)
fumikage tokoyami: ༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.
shadows and sparkles (fluff)
shouto todoroki: ‧₊˚ ❄️ ‧₊𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🔥
soar (fluff) pt 1
just the beginning (fluff) pt 2
tense (smut)
take care of him (fluff) pt 1
youre the one (fluff) pt 2
bittersweet (fluff/light angst)
memory (suggestive, light angst)
momo yaoyorozu: °⋆.ೃ࿔:･🪻 °⋆.ೃ࿔:･
tbd!
ochaco uraraka: ‧₊˚🍡𖦹🌸‧₊˚.
is it just me or?... (fluff)
jealousy looks good on you (smut)
mina ashido: ,🍧˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍓✧🦩˚⋆
tbd!
kyouka jirou: 🎵.𖥔 ݁ ˖🎶๋࣭ ⭑👾
quiet practice (fluff)
toru hagakure:⋆˚࿔♫⋆˚࿔📀♡⋆.˚🪼
tbd!
mirio togata: ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍋ɞ˚‧｡⋆
how much I love you (smut)
neito monoma: ‧₊˚✩⚜️ ₊˚💠⊹♡
obsession (fluff/ light smut)
class 1-A: ₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖
sick day (fluff)
in the middle (angst)
in every life (angst)
3 losses, 20 wins (fluff)
spots! (fluff)
comfort and in chaos (fluff/light angst)
burn out (fluff) pt 1
the feeling (fluff) pt 2
goodnight! (fluff)
after the light moved on (fluff)
american exchange (fluff)
birthday boy! (fluff)
team bonding! (fluff)
restless (fluff)
the shadows we carry (fluff/light angst)
for the better (hurt/comfort)
reconcile (oneshots/fluff) pt 2
fights (oneshots/fights) pt 1
waiting (angst/fluff)
shouta aizawa: ˙ . ꒷ 🍙 . 𖦹˙— 🐈⬛
gravity and erasure (fluff)
all might/yagi toshinori: 🦸🏻♂️⋆｡°👊°⋆. ࿔*:🇺🇸･
more like me (fluff)
beautiful boy (fluff, angst)
UA teachers/Pro Heroes: ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡📷
tracking shadows (fluff) pt 1
you've got guts (fluff) pt 2
mini might (fluff)
bloodhound (fluff) pt 3
tomura shigaraki: ‧˚꒰💢꒱༘‧—
save point (smut)
dabi/touya todoroki: ⊹₊ ☄⋆｡°✩
favorite (fluff)
A/N: thank you so much for all the support and interactions!! if u don't see ur fav up here, its most likely cause I just got tired ;) but requests are open and I'm happy to write for almost anything and anyone! rules posted, pls read before making requests!!
i know you said that you’re busy for the weekend but girl i already miss you im going to read all of your fics until you’re back (im sorry for probably spamming your notifications) and also lovinggg your artic fox series (anon ❄️ love your idea too) i can’t wait to read more!!!!
luve youuuu and hope you have a great weekend beautiful 🤍
It is I, that one Yuga fanact weeping on the poll, sad that he wasn’t there. BUT WORRY NOT, FOR I, am going to make an request soon, I just need to word it better nas not overthink.
what if during a mission our star girl gets hit by a quirk that amplifies emotions more than usual and it’s irreversible so she has to endure it for a few hours or a day (whichever works best for you), which only makes social interactions a bit more difficult especially when a certain someone named izuku is near, even over the slightest thing and!!! deep down he knows what’s he’s doing and inevitably can’t help but enjoy seeing her like that because of him
PS: i know people tend to see him as the cute nerd boy but as he grows i firmly believe he gains a certain confidence that makes him very sexy oh my.
luv yuuuuuu
— 🌟
Ecstasy
summary: star quick!reader who gets hit with a quirk that amplifies her senses and izuku uses it to his advantage
warning/s: smut, 18+, mdni, soft dom!izuku, teasing, verstimulatin, p in v, vaginal sex, fingering, cunnilingus, use of pet names, horny!izuku
w/c: 3.5k~
The mission was supposed to be simple. A routine patrol in a quieter district, a chance for Class 2-A to stretch their legs in a low-stakes environment. You were paired with Izuku, a fact that usually sent a pleasant, manageable warmth through your chest. Today, with the lingering memory of his balcony confession, that warmth was a low-grade fever.
The villain was a nobody, a C-lister with a gimmick Quirk that fired iridescent, soap-bubble-like projectiles. They didn't explode or freeze; they just popped with a faint shimmer of light. Annoying, but hardly threatening.
"I'll handle the civilians," you called to Izuku, already creating a shimmering barrier of stellar energy to shield a small group of screaming onlookers. "You take care of him!"
"Right!" he yelled back, already launching himself into the air with a burst of Blackwhip.
You were so focused on maintaining the shield, on making sure every terrified person was safely behind your wall of light, that you didn't see the stray bubble drifting lazily in your direction. It wasn't aimed at you; it was just collateral from a wild shot. It popped against your shoulder with a sound like a soft kiss and a feeling like static electricity.
You blinked. Nothing happened. You shook your head and turned back to the fight, which Izuku was already wrapping up with brutal efficiency. By the time you'd dispersed your barrier and he'd secured the villain with capture tape, the strange tingle on your shoulder had already faded.
"Good work," he said, landing beside you, his face flushed with adrenaline and a proud smile. His green eyes crinkled at the corners, and he gave you a thumbs-up.
That was when the world ended.
Or rather, it began. A supernova of emotion detonated in your chest, so powerful and all-consuming it stole the air from your lungs. It wasn't just happiness; it was a rapturous, soul-searing ecstasy. His smile wasn't just nice; it was the most beautiful, divine thing you had ever witnessed. The sight of his flushed cheeks and wind-tossed hair sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated desire straight to your core, so intense it made your knees buckle.
"Whoa, you okay?" he asked, his smile faltering as he reached out to steady you.
The moment his hand touched your arm, you gasped. It was like being struck by lightning. Every nerve ending lit up, a symphony of sensation so overwhelming you saw stars. Not the gentle, silver sparkles you were used to. These were blazing, fiery suns that burned behind your eyelids. Your heart hammered against your ribs like a trapped bird, and a dizzying wave of heat flooded your body, pooling low in your belly.
"I-I'm fine," you stammered, snatching your arm back as if you'd been burned. You couldn't think. You couldn't breathe. All you could do was feel. And you were feeling everything.
The debriefing back at UA was a special kind of hell. You sat in a chair, trying to look normal, while every single stimulus was amplified to an impossible degree. Aizawa's tired voice wasn't just boring; it was a gravelly, oppressive weight that made you want to claw your ears. The hum of the fluorescent lights wasn't just a buzz; it was a high-pitched drill boring directly into your skull. And Izuku, sitting two chairs down from you, was a living, breathing inferno.
Every time he shifted in his seat, the rustle of his uniform was a gunshot in your ears. Every time he scratched his cheek, you were viscerally aware of the rough texture of his fingertips against his skin. When he glanced over at you, his brow furrowed with concern, the look hit you with the force of a physical blow. It wasn't just worry; it was a profound, heart-wrenching agony of concern that made you want to weep and throw yourself into his arms at the same time.
"You got hit by one of those bubbles, didn't you?" he whispered during a brief lull in the meeting.
You could only nod, your throat too tight to speak. The concern radiating off him was intoxicating, a sweet, heady perfume that made you dizzy.
After what felt like an eternity, you were dismissed. Recovery Girl had confirmed the Quirk's effect: an irreversible, twenty-four-hour emotional amplifier. There was no cure but time.
You fled to your room, intending to hide until the world stopped feeling like it was being broadcast at 200% volume. But you were hungry. And the thought of facing the communal kitchen was terrifying. You took a deep breath, steeled yourself, and opened your door.
Of course, he was there.
Izuku was standing by the fridge, a carton of milk in his hand, looking like he was about to make a tactical retreat back to his room. He froze when he saw you, his eyes wide.
"Hey," he said, his voice cautious. "How are you feeling?"
The word 'hey' was a caress. The concern in his voice was a warm blanket. The sight of him, standing there in his slightly rumpled school uniform, his hair messy and his eyes so, so green, was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. Your breath hitched, and a soft, involuntary whimper escaped your lips. The stars on your skin didn't just shimmer; they blazed to life, a galaxy of silver and gold that covered your arms and cheeks, brighter than you'd ever allowed them to get.
"Izuku," you breathed, and his name was a prayer.
He took a step forward, then stopped, his own expression a mixture of alarm and something else… something darker, more curious. He watched you, his gaze intense, as you practically vibrated with the force of your own feelings.
"You're… glowing," he observed, his voice low.
"You're here," you replied, as if that explained everything. To you, in that moment, it did.
You took a step toward him, drawn by an invisible, irresistible force. The air between you crackled. You could see the moment he understood. The shift in his eyes from concern to dawning realization, and then to something else entirely. A slow, deliberate heat. He knew what was happening. He knew his presence, his every small action, was affecting you on an exponential level. And deep down, beneath the hero's concern, a part of him was enjoying it. He was enjoying seeing you so completely undone by him.
He set the milk down on the counter, the movement slow and deliberate. "You should probably stay away from me," he said, but his tone was all wrong. It wasn't a warning; it was a challenge.
"I can't," you whispered, taking another step closer. You were now only a foot apart. The heat radiating from his body was a tangible thing, a warm, inviting furnace that you desperately wanted to press yourself against. "Izuku, it's… it's too much."
"What's too much?" he asked, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent a shiver straight down your spine. "This?" He reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of your white hair behind your ear.
The contact was electric. A jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure shot through you, so intense it made your knees weak. You let out a soft gasp, your eyes fluttering shut. A fresh wave of glittering stars erupted across your skin, visible even in the bright kitchen light.
He watched your reaction, his lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. It was a look you'd never seen on him before—confident, a little smug, and devastatingly attractive. "Or this?" He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "Is this too much?"
You couldn't answer. You could only stand there, trembling, as his breath ghosted over your skin. The scent of him—clean laundry, mint, and something uniquely, intoxicatingly Izuku—filled your senses, making your head spin. Your body was responding on a primal level, a deep, aching need coiling in your stomach, demanding more.
"Izuku," you whimpered, his name a desperate plea.
"Shh," he murmured, his hand moving from your hair to cup the back of your neck. His thumb stroked the sensitive skin there, and you thought you might actually die from the sheer pleasure of it. "Let's get you to your room."
He didn't give you a choice. He guided you, his hand a firm, possessive pressure on your neck, steering you out of the kitchen and down the hall. His touch was a brand, a promise of everything you were suddenly desperate to experience. You were dimly aware of Mina and Uraraka peeking out of the common room, their eyes wide with shock at the sight of you being manhandled by a visibly flustered but determined Izuku, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.
He practically kicked your door open, pulling you inside and slamming it shut behind you. The moment the lock clicked, he pressed you against the door, his body flush against yours. The feeling of his solid, muscular frame pinning you in place was heaven. You could feel every hard line of him, the taut muscles of his chest, the powerful thighs pressing against your own.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice low and rough.
You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze. His eyes were dark, the pupils blown wide with a hunger that mirrored your own. The earnest, sweet boy you knew was still in there, but he was overshadowed by a predatory confidence that was making your head spin. He was enjoying this. He was enjoying your complete and utter surrender to the amplified emotions he was so effortlessly stoking.
"You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" he murmured, his free hand coming up to trace the line of your jaw. His touch was fire, each pass of his thumb leaving a trail of tingling heat in its wake. "Even before this Quirk. I'd see you laugh, and it would make my whole day. I'd see you get angry, and I'd be so impressed by your passion. I've been cataloging these reactions for months, Y/N. And now… to see it all, laid bare like this…"
He leaned in, his nose nudging against yours. "It's intoxicating."
You couldn't form words. You could only make a soft, needy sound in the back of your throat, your hands coming up to clutch at the front of his shirt. The fabric was rough, and the feeling of it under your desperate fingers was another sensory overload. You needed more. You needed to feel his skin.
As if reading your mind, he captured your wrists in one of his large hands, pinning them above your head against the door. The gesture was dominant, controlling, and it sent a fresh flood of arousal gushing through you. You were completely at his mercy, and the feeling was exquisite.
"Ah-ah," he tsked, his lips brushing against your temple. "Not yet. I want to see you fall apart first."
He released your wrists, but only to move his hands to your waist. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place, and then he lowered his head to the crook of your neck. You felt the soft puff of his breath a second before his lips made contact with your skin.
It wasn't a kiss. It was an open-mouthed, sucking caress, and it was your undoing.
A choked cry escaped your lips as a white-hot jolt of pleasure shot through you, so intense it was almost painful. Your body arched off the door, pressing yourself more firmly against him. The stars on your skin exploded, no longer just silver but now streaked with gold and crimson, a swirling, chaotic galaxy of pure sensation. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs, a desperate, throbbing ache that demanded attention.
"Izuku, please," you begged, your voice a ragged, breathless whisper. You didn't even know what you were begging for. More. Less. For it to stop. For it to never end.
He chuckled, a low, dark sound that vibrated against your skin and made your toes curl. "Please what, Y/N? Please stop? Or please don't ever stop?"
He didn't wait for an answer. He continued his assault on your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point in a way that made you see stars. His hands roamed your body, mapping every curve and dip through the thin fabric of your clothes. He squeezed your waist, traced the line of your ribs, his touch both possessive and worshipful.
"You're so responsive," he groaned against your skin, his voice thick with desire. "Every little touch, every little sound… it's perfect. You're perfect."
His praise was another wave of ecstasy, validating the overwhelming pleasure you were experiencing. He wasn't just taking; he was appreciating. He was savoring. And it was the most intoxicating thing you had ever felt.
One of his hands drifted upward, his thumb brushing against the underside of your breast. You whimpered, arching into his touch, silently begging for more. He obliged, his hand cupping your breast, his thumb circling your nipple through the fabric of your bra and shirt. The friction was exquisite, a sharp, delicious pleasure that had you writhing against him.
"You like that?" he murmured, his lips still trailing along your collarbone.
You could only nod, your head thrown back against the door, your eyes squeezed shut. You were lost in a sea of sensation, your entire being focused on the hands and mouth of the man who was systematically taking you apart.
He shifted, pressing his knee between your thighs. The pressure against your core was immediate and overwhelming. You let out a guttural moan, your hips instinctively rocking against him, seeking more friction. The feeling of his hard, muscular thigh against your most sensitive spot was almost too much to bear.
"Look at you," he said, pulling back just enough to look at your face. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide with lust. His own cheeks were flushed, his breathing ragged. He was just as affected as you were, and the knowledge was a heady rush. "So desperate. So beautiful. All for me."
He captured your lips in a searing kiss. It wasn't gentle or hesitant. It was hungry, demanding, a raw, primal claim. His tongue swept into your mouth, dominating yours, and you met him with equal fervor. You kissed him back with a desperation you didn't know you possessed, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper.
The world outside your door ceased to exist. There was only the feeling of his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, his hands on your body, his thigh pressing against your aching core. The emotions were a tidal wave—love, lust, adoration, desperation—all amplified to a deafening roar.
You could feel the tension coiling in your stomach, a tight, hot knot that was winding tighter and tighter with every pass of his thumb, every grind of his hips, every possessive stroke of his tongue. You were so close. So terrifyingly, wonderfully close to the edge.
"Izuku," you gasped, tearing your mouth from his. "I… I can't…"
"Yes, you can," he growled, his voice a low, commanding rumble that sent you hurtling over the edge. "Let go for me, Y/N. I want to see it."
His words were the final push. The knot in your stomach snapped, and your orgasm crashed over you with the force of a tidal wave. It was a blinding, deafening, all-consuming pleasure that ripped a scream from your throat. Your body convulsed, your back arching, your hands clutching at him as wave after wave of exquisite ecstasy washed over you. The stars on your skin blazed to life, a brilliant, blinding nova that lit up the entire room before slowly, softly fading, leaving you trembling and spent in his arms.
He held you through it, his body a solid, steady anchor in the storm. He murmured soothing words in your ear, his hands gently stroking your back as you came down from the high. When the tremors finally subsided, you were limp against him, your head resting on his chest, your body humming with a pleasant, sated warmth.
The amplifier was still working, you knew, but the overwhelming, frantic edge had been dulled, replaced by a deep, profound sense of contentment. The love you felt for him was no longer a raging inferno but a warm, gentle glow. The adoration was a soft, steady light.
You looked up at him, your eyes soft and hazy. He was looking down at you, his expression a mixture of awe, satisfaction, and a deep, tender affection. The predatory confidence was gone, replaced by the sweet, earnest boy you adored.
"Wow," he breathed, a slow, happy smile spreading across his face. "Just… wow."
You smiled back, a genuine, blissful smile that reached your eyes. "Yeah," you agreed, your voice soft. "Wow."
He leaned down and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to your forehead. "Are you okay?"
"Better than okay," you whispered, snuggling closer to him. "I'm perfect."
He held you for a long time, just standing there in the quiet of your room, his arms wrapped around you, his heart beating steadily under your ear. The emotional amplifier was still coursing through your veins, but now, it was just a clarifying lens. It stripped away all the doubt and fear and left only the pure, unadulterated truth. And the truth was, you were completely and utterly in love with Izuku Midoriya. And you had a feeling, with the way he was holding you, that he was just as irrevocably in love with you.
dark shadow being the one who exposed tokoyami’s feelings for reader instead of another classmate finding out about it is so funny to me bc that shadow thingy has ZERO filter so it’s like dark shadow confesses to reader “in behalf” of tokoyami (actually he’s being a lil shit) 🤣
yesss! he's such a younger brother!core character. but I actually don't know if he's a girl or boy..technically he doesn't have a gender as a shadow, I just write him like that since they give him those pronouns in the name. lmk what u think tho!!
༉‧₊˚. summary: a misbehaved puppy!reader means soft dom!izuku's gotta teach her a lesson
༉‧₊˚. warning/s: puppy girl!reader, soft dom!izuku, sub/dom dynamic, p in v sex, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation, edging, use of pet names (puppy, good girl, honey, etc), fingering, teasing, baby wink of bully!izu
༉‧₊˚. w/c: 3.6k~
The lamp on the nightstand threw soft golden light across the bed. You’d spent the whole evening pushing Izuku’s buttons—little brushes of your hand, that sweet “Deku” tone you knew got under his skin, the way you’d looked at him like you were innocent. Now payback had you flat on your back, thighs spread wide, heart hammering.
Izuku knelt between your legs, cock heavy and flushed as he dragged the tip through your soaked folds. His curls stuck to his forehead, green eyes soft but sharp with that teasing edge.
“Been such a needy puppy all night,” he murmured, pressing just the head inside you. “Now you’re gonna take what you asked for. Yeah?”
You nodded fast, breath already shaky. “Y-yeah… please, Izuku.”
He smiled, slow and knowing, and sank in deeper. The stretch made your mouth drop open. He was thick—always had been—but after two orgasms from his tongue and fingers you were stupidly sensitive. A choked whimper slipped out.
“I know that dick is big, hon,” he coaxed, voice low and warm as he eased in another inch. One hand stroked your hip, thumb rubbing circles. “But look at you. Taking it so well already. Such a good puppy.”
Your walls fluttered around him. “F-fuck— Izuku—”
“Shh. Easy, sweet girl.” He bottomed out with a quiet groan, hips flush against yours. For a second he just stayed there, letting you adjust, forehead pressed to yours. “Feel that? Allllll the way in, pup. Good girl.”
He started moving—slow, rolling thrusts that dragged against every oversensitive spot. Your legs twitched. You tried to close them on instinct but he hooked his elbows under your knees and spread you wider.
“Nuh-uh, Y/N. No hiding.” His smile stayed soft even as he picked up the pace, hips snapping a little harder. “You asked for this, remember? Teasing me all evening like a bratty little pup.”
You squirmed, hands fisting the sheets. “I-It’s too much— ah— already—”
“Already?” He chuckled, low and teasing. “We’re just getting started, puppy.” He pinned your wrists above your head with one hand, the other pressing flat on your lower stomach, holding you down while he drove in deeper. “Stay right here for me. Good girl.”
Tears pricked your eyes fast. The overstimulation hit like sparks under your skin. Every thrust made you jolt, little sobs mixing with moans.
Izuku noticed immediately. His eyes softened but the smile didn’t fade. “Aw, Y/N. Already tearing up?” He leaned down and kissed the corner of your eye, tasting salt. “So fucking cute like this. My sensitive puppy.”
He shifted angles and hit that spot dead-on. Your back arched hard, a broken cry tearing from your throat. You tried to twist away from the intensity but his weight kept you pinned, cock sliding in and out with wet, filthy sounds.
“Izuku— p-please— I c-can’t—”
“You can, honey. C’mon. Two more for me.” His voice stayed gentle, almost sweet, even while he fucked you harder. “Taking it so well. Look how nicely you’re squeezing me.”
Your head thrashed against the pillow. “T-too much— s’too big— Izuku—!”
“I know, baby. I know it’s so big,” he murmured, still smiling as he watched fresh tears slip down your cheeks. “But you’re doing so good. Such a good girl for me. Just breathe. Atta girl--”
He released your wrists only to grab your hips with both hands, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust. You sobbed, legs shaking violently around him. The pleasure burned—sharp, overwhelming, perfect.
Another orgasm crashed over you without warning. You clenched hard, crying out his name as your body seized. Izuku groaned but didn’t slow down, fucking you through it with steady, deep strokes.
“That’s one, puppy. Good girl. Give me another.”
You whimpered pathetically, trying to crawl up the bed. “C-can’t— Izuku— s’too much— please—”
He followed instantly, draping his body over yours and pinning you down with his chest. His cock never left you. “Nuh-uh, honey. No tapping out now. You asked for this, puppy. Remember how you were rubbing up against me earlier? This is what you wanted.”
He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, folding you practically in half. The new angle made him feel even bigger. You let out a stuttering sob, nails digging into his back.
“Izuku— f-fuck— I can’t— ah—”
“Yes you can, Y/N.” He kissed your tear-streaked cheek, still smiling softly while he pounded into you. “C’mon. Two more, pup. Taking it so well even when you’re this sensitive.”
The second orgasm hit harder. Your vision blurred, thighs quaking as you came again, walls pulsing wildly around his thick cock. Izuku hissed through his teeth but kept moving, dragging it out until you were a whimpering, twitching mess beneath him.
He finally slowed, still buried deep, and brushed damp hair from your forehead. “There we go. Such a good puppy. You’re shaking so much, baby. Adorable.”
You sniffled, voice hoarse. “I-Izuku… c-can’t do more— s’too sensitive—”
He kissed you slow and deep, swallowing your little whimpers. When he pulled back, that teasing glint was back in his eyes. “One more, babygirl. Just one. You can do it. I know you can.”
He flipped you onto your stomach without pulling out, pressing your chest down into the mattress and yanking your hips up. “Ass up, puppy. That’s it. Good girl.”
The new position made everything deeper. He started thrusting again—long, deliberate strokes that made your toes curl. You buried your face in the pillow, sobbing and moaning.
“Izuku— p-please— its too full—”
“I know, doll. You’re so full of my cock, huh?” He reached under you and circled your swollen clit with two fingers. “But you’re taking it so well. My perfect little puppy.”
You squirmed hard, trying to escape the overwhelming sensations, but he held your hips in an iron grip, fucking you steadily. Tears soaked the pillow. Your legs wouldn’t stop shaking.
“C’mon, Y/N. One more. You’re doing so good. Such a good puppy for me.”
The final orgasm tore through you like fire. You cried out, voice cracking as your whole body locked up, clenching around him so tight it dragged a low groan from his throat.
“Fuck— that’s it, good girl. So good.”
Izuku followed right after, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a quiet, wrecked moan. His hips jerked through the aftershocks, arms wrapped tight around your waist to keep you from collapsing.
For a long minute the only sounds were your ragged breathing and his soft murmurs.
He eased out carefully, pulling a broken whimper from you at the loss. Then he turned you gently onto your back and gathered you against his chest, stroking your hair.
“You okay, babydoll?” he asked, voice soft now. His fingers traced soothing lines down your spine.
You nodded weakly, still sniffling. “Y-yeah… just… a lot.”
He chuckled quietly and kissed the top of your head. “You were incredible. Such a good puppy the whole time.” He reached for the water on the nightstand and helped you sip it, then cleaned you both with a warm cloth, every touch careful and loving.
You curled into him, exhausted but warm. “You’re mean,” you mumbled against his neck, voice hoarse and stuttering a little.
Izuku smiled, pressing another kiss to your temple. “Only ‘cause you like it, puppy.” His hand kept stroking your hair. “My sweet, needy girl.”
You shivered at the pet name, too tired to argue. He kept whispering it—soft praises mixed with “puppy” every few seconds—until your eyes drifted shut, safe in his arms.
Morning light filtered through the curtains. You woke sore, limbs heavy, tucked against Izuku’s chest. He was already awake, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip.
“Morning, Y/N/N,” he said, voice still raspy from sleep. He tilted your chin up and kissed you slow. “How’s my good girl feeling?”
“Like I got destroyed by a pro hero,” you muttered, cheeks heating.
He laughed softly, rolling you under him again. “You did so well last night. Took everything I gave you like my perfect girl.” His hand slid down your thigh, teasing. “Think you can handle a little more after breakfast? Or is my girl too sensitive today?”
You groaned, hiding your face in his shoulder, but your legs parted anyway. Izuku smiled against your skin, already whispering more praise.
“That’s my good puppy.”
༉‧₊˚. A/N: this is FILTHY. but I wanna get dommed by izu SOOOOOOOO bad.
⋆⁺₊❅. summary: after a rough fight means no sleep for arctic fox!reader, she goes to izuku and begs or his forgiveness,
⋆⁺₊❅. warning/s: slightly suggestive
⋆⁺₊❅. w/c: 4.2k~
series materlist
The night was suffocating. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw the look on Izuku's face—the raw, wounded shock that had followed your cruel words. The silence of your room, usually a comfort, was now a deafening echo of your own guilt. You replayed the argument over and over, each memory more cringeworthy than the last. You hadn't just been angry; you'd been vicious. You'd taken his quiet, earnest admiration and twisted it into something pathetic and analytical. You'd thrown his shyness in his face like a weapon.
The guilt was a physical weight, pressing down on your chest until you couldn't breathe. You couldn't stay here. You couldn't let the sun rise on this.
Slipping out of bed, you padded into the silent hallway. The dorm was asleep, the only light the soft glow of the emergency exit signs. Your bare feet were cold on the linoleum as you stopped in front of his door. Room 214. You raised your hand to knock, then let it fall. What were you even going to say? 'Sorry I was a complete and utter monster'? It didn't feel like enough.
Taking a shaky breath, you tapped lightly. No answer. You tried again, a little louder. Still nothing. You rested your forehead against the cool wood of the door, a fresh wave of despair washing over you. Of course he wasn't going to answer. You'd basically told him he was a coward and a creep. Why would he ever want to see you again?
You were about to turn away, defeated, when the door finally creaked open.
Izuku stood there, his hair a mess, his eyes bleary with sleep. He'd thrown on a t-shirt, and the faint scars on his arms were visible in the dim hallway light. He looked at you, and his expression wasn't angry. It was just… tired. A deep, bone-weary exhaustion that went far beyond a lack of sleep.
"What?" he asked, his voice raspy and flat. It wasn't a question; it was a statement. 'What do you want?'
The sound of it, devoid of any of its usual warmth, nearly broke you. "Izuku, I—" you started, but your voice cracked. The carefully constructed apology you'd planned in your head crumbled into dust. "I'm so sorry."
He just watched you, his face unreadable. "It's three in the morning, Y/N."
"I know," you whispered, your vision starting to blur. "I couldn't sleep. I feel… awful. About what I said. It was horrible and unfair and I didn't mean any of it."
He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. It was a defensive gesture, and it made your stomach clench. "You seemed to mean it pretty well at the time."
"I didn't," you insisted, a tear finally escaping and tracing a path down your cheek. "I was just… so angry and miserable about that stupid date, and I took it all out on you. You were just trying to be nice, and I… I punished you for it. I said those awful things because I'm a coward, Izuku. Not you."
Another tear fell, and then another. You couldn't stop them. "You're the kindest, most thoughtful person I know, and I treated you like garbage. Please… please can you forgive me? I'll do anything. Just… please don't hate me."
Your voice broke on a sob, and you finally crumpled, covering your face with your hands as the tears you'd been holding back all night finally broke free. You were a mess, a pathetic, crying mess in his doorway at 3 AM.
You heard a soft sigh. Then, a hesitant touch. His hand gently closed around your wrist, pulling your hands away from your face. He stepped closer, tilting your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. His green eyes were soft now, the exhaustion replaced with a deep, weary sympathy.
"Hey," he said, his voice quiet and gentle. "Stop crying. It's okay."
"It's not," you choked out.
"It is," he insisted, his thumb gently wiping a tear from your cheek. "I'm not… I'm not mad. I was hurt. And confused. But I'm not mad." He looked at you, really looked at you, and a small, sad smile touched his lips. "I know you didn't mean it. I know you. You're not mean, Y/N. You just… feel things very loudly."
That was it. That was all it took for the dam to break completely. You threw your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder and sobbing in earnest. He stumbled back a step, surprised, but then his arms wrapped around you, holding you securely. He was warm and solid, a steady anchor in the storm of your own making. He just stood there, letting you cry, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back while the other held the back of your head.
Eventually, the sobs subsided into quiet hiccups. You were exhausted, emotionally and physically, completely drained. You pulled back slightly, but didn't let go of him.
"I'm so sorry," you whispered again, your voice hoarse.
"I know," he said softly. "It's okay. I forgive you."
He gently disentangled himself from your grip and took your hand. "Come on. You can't go back to your room like this. You'll just be alone with your thoughts."
He led you into his room, closing the door softly behind you. It was pure Izuku. Neat, organized, and dominated by a large desk covered in hero notes and All Might memorabilia. He sat you down on his desk chair and disappeared into his closet, coming back with a clean, folded t-shirt.
"Here," he said, holding it out to you. "You can't sleep in that."
You looked down at your own tear-stained pajama top and nodded numbly. He turned his back, giving you privacy while you changed. The shirt was soft and smelled like him—clean laundry and a faint, minty scent. It was far too big, the hem reaching your mid-thigh.
When you were done, he turned back around. He'd already made a makeshift bed on the floor with a spare blanket and pillow.
"You can take the bed," he said firmly.
"No, Izuku, I can't kick you out of your own bed."
"I'm not arguing about this," he said, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "You've had a horrible night. You need the sleep. I'll be fine down here."
You were too tired to fight. You crawled into his bed, the sheets cool and smelling faintly of him. It was surprisingly comforting. You watched as he settled onto the floor, his back to you.
"Izuku?" you whispered into the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"Go to sleep, Y/N."
You closed your eyes, and for the first time all night, the guilt wasn't suffocating you. It was still there, a dull ache, but it was overshadowed by the warmth of his forgiveness. You fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When Izuku woke up, the room was filled with the soft, gray light of early morning. For a moment, he was confused. Then, the events of the night before came rushing back. He sat up, his back stiff from the floor, and turned to look at his bed.
You were still asleep. You were curled up on your side, one hand tucked under your cheek, your white hair fanned out across his pillow. You looked peaceful, your face soft and relaxed in sleep. And you were wearing his shirt.
A blush, hot and fierce, crept up his neck and spread across his entire face. You were in his bed. Wearing his clothes. Because he'd forgiven you for being awful to him. Because he cared about you so much that he'd let you break his heart and then welcomed you into his room in the middle of the night. His brain, ever the analyst, started supplying him with a dizzying array of data points: the way the oversized shirt draped over your frame, the gentle rise and fall of your breathing, the faint, almost imperceptible twitch of your fox ears in your sleep.
He felt like a complete creep. He was the hero-in-training, the future symbol of peace, and he was having a full-blown panic attack because a girl was sleeping in his bed. He scrambled to his feet, his heart hammering against his ribs, and fled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face in a desperate attempt to cool the blush.
When he came back, you were stirring. Your eyes fluttered open, and you blinked slowly, taking in the unfamiliar room. You sat up, the blanket pooling around your waist, and looked over at him. A faint pink dusted your cheeks as you remembered.
"Morning," you said, your voice soft and a little shy.
"Morning," he managed, his voice coming out a squeak. He cleared his throat. "How, uh, how did you sleep?"
"Really well, actually," you admitted with a small smile. "Best sleep I've had in weeks." You stretched, and the hem of his shirt rode up slightly, sending his brain into another tailspin. "Thank you again, Izuku. For… everything."
"It was nothing," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "Friends help friends."
The word 'friends' hung in the air between you, feeling both right and terribly wrong.
Later that day, after you'd both showered and changed and the awkwardness had subsided into a comfortable silence, he found you in the common room. You were curled up on one end of the couch, pretending to read a textbook, but really just watching him out of the corner of your eye. He was pacing near the kitchen, a nervous energy radiating from him that was so uniquely Izuku.
He kept running a hand through his already messy hair, his brow furrowed in concentration. He'd stop, take a deep breath, as if to steel himself, and then start pacing again. It was like watching a glitching simulation. You saw Kaminari nudge Kirishima and nod in Izuku's direction, a knowing smirk on his face, but you ignored them. Your entire focus was on the green-haired tornado of anxiety currently wearing a path into the UA dorm floor.
Finally, he stopped. He took one last, fortifying breath and walked directly over to you. Your heart started thumping a little faster, a nervous flutter that had nothing to do with guilt.
"Y/N," he started, his voice a little too loud. He cleared his throat, trying again. "Y/N. Can we… can we talk for a minute?"
"Of course," you said, closing your book and patting the cushion next to you.
He shook his head, his gaze fixed on a point just over your shoulder. "No, not here. Somewhere… more private."
He led you out onto the dorm's small, shared balcony. It was a crisp, clear afternoon, the sounds of the city a distant hum below. He leaned against the railing, his back to you, looking out at the view. You waited, giving him the space he clearly needed to gather his thoughts. The silence stretched, filled only by the whistle of the wind.
"I've been doing a lot of thinking," he began, his voice quiet but steady. "About last night. And about… before last night."
You braced yourself, your hands gripping the cool metal of the railing. "Izuku, if this is about me being a jerk again, I already—"
"It's not," he interrupted, finally turning to face you. His expression was serious, but not angry. It was… determined. "It's about me. And about you. And about us."
The word 'us' sent a jolt straight through you.
"What you said in the laundry room," he continued, his gaze unwavering. "You were right about one thing. I am a coward. Not for the reasons you said, but… because I've been watching you, and admiring you, and wanting to… to be closer to you, for a long time. And I've been too scared to do anything about it."
He took a step closer, the space between you shrinking. "I was scared of ruining our friendship. I was scared of being a distraction. I was scared of adding another complicated thing to your life when you're already working so hard. I have all these… these responsibilities, this weight on my shoulders, and I was so afraid of dragging you down with me. That I'd be a burden."
He let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. "I analyze everything, right? I make my plans, my strategies. But when it comes to you… I just freeze. Because none of my data points can account for how I feel when you're around. How you make me feel."
He stopped directly in front of you, so close you could see the faint freckles scattered across his nose, the earnest, desperate hope shining in his eyes. The last of the sunlight caught in his hair, turning it into a halo of green and gold.
"And last night, when I thought I might have lost you for good… it made me realize that all my fears, all my excuses, were completely pointless. Because the thought of a future where you're not in it is a thousand times more terrifying than any risk I could ever take."
He reached out, his hand hesitating for a fraction of a second before gently taking yours. His touch was warm, his grip firm and sure.
"So I'm done being a coward," he said, his voice dropping to an intense, heartfelt whisper. "I'm done analyzing from a distance. There's something I've been needing to say to you for a long time, Y/N. Something important. And I'm not going to wait for another disaster to give me the courage to say it."
⋆⁺₊❅. A/N: I love this series with my whole life. this is the comfort I promised yalll
⋆⁺₊❅. summary: izuku and reader got into an argument the day after her date about expectations and being forward...but will this hiccup cause izuku to lose feelings???
⋆⁺₊❅.warning/s: mean!reader (keep in mind, she didn't sleep so shes kinda pissy (real i fear))
⋆⁺₊❅. w/c: 2k~
series masterlist
The morning light filtering through the cheap blinds of your bedroom was gray and unwelcoming. You'd barely slept, twisting and turning in the sheets, replaying every awkward, cringeworthy moment of the date from the night before. When you finally dragged yourself out of bed, your reflection in the mirror looked as miserable as you felt. Your white hair was a mess, and your fox ears were drooped low, pinned back in a way that screamed 'defeat.'
The common room was already buzzing with the low hum of weekend activity. You shuffled in, heading straight for the coffee maker like a zombie seeking brains. Mina, ever the social butterfly, spotted you immediately and bounced over, her energy a stark contrast to your own.
"So? Spill! Every detail! Don't you dare leave anything out!" she demanded, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
You poured a mug of coffee, cradling the warmth in your hands. "It was… fine," you lied, the word tasting like ash in your mouth.
"Fine?" Uraraka chimed in, floating over from the couch. "Just fine? That's not the face of someone who just had a 'fine' date with the hot second-year!"
A small, tired group had gathered by now—Kaminari, Hagakure, and Kirishima all looking at you expectantly. You sighed, the weight of their cheerful anticipation pressing down on you. You couldn't lie to them. They were your friends.
"Okay, it was awful," you admitted, your voice flat. "Truly, spectacularly awful."
A collective gasp went through the group. "What? Why?" Mina asked, her face falling.
You took a long sip of coffee, gathering the miserable memories. "He… wouldn't stop talking about himself. For three hours. It was a monologue."
Kaminari snorted. "About what?"
"Everything," you said, gesturing vaguely with your mug. "His training regimen. His internship stats. How many villains he'd 'totally taken down.' He spent twenty minutes describing the protein shake he invented. He called it the 'Ren-egade.' I'm not kidding."
Hagakure made a horrified sound. "No."
"Oh, it gets worse," you continued, a bitter smile twisting your lips. "I tried to talk. I mentioned that ice sculpture I made, the little fox? He looked at me like I'd grown a second head and said, 'That's cute. A little niche, but cute. Have you ever considered a more… offensive application of your Quirk?' Then he went back to explaining his favorite brand of workout gloves."
Kirishima winced. "Ouch. That's not very manly of him."
"The best part," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm, "was when the bill came. He looked at it, then looked at me, and said, 'You know, since I make more money than you probably ever will as a support hero, it'd be a good investment for you to cover this. Consider it a lesson in fiscal responsibility.'"
Mina's jaw was on the floor. "He did NOT."
"He did," you confirmed. "I paid for my own overpriced salad and left. I think I was out the door before he even noticed I was gone."
Your friends erupted in a flurry of outraged sympathy. "What a jerk!" "I can't believe he said that!" "We should go freeze his gym shorts to the ceiling!" Their anger was a warm, comforting blanket, and for a moment, you felt a little less alone in your misery.
Through it all, you were vaguely aware of Izuku sitting on the other side of the room, a textbook open but unread in his lap. He hadn't joined the group, but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and unreadable. When you glanced over, he quickly looked down, pretending to be engrossed in a page about tactical rescue formations. You saw the way his shoulders were tense, the way his grip on his pen was a little too tight. A pang of guilt, sharp and unwelcome, shot through you. You hadn't even thought about how this might affect him.
The rest of the day crawled by. The initial anger from your friends faded into a sort of protective pity, which was somehow worse. You tried to shake off the lingering gloom from the date, but it clung to you like a damp fog. You were irritable, your patience worn thin. Every little sound grated on your nerves—the loud video game Kaminari and Sero were playing, Mina's humming, even the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall.
You decided to bury your bad mood in productivity. Gathering up the overflowing laundry basket from your room, you headed down to the small communal laundry room in the basement. It was usually quiet down there, a concrete-walled sanctuary of humming washers and the warm, clean smell of detergent. It was exactly what you needed.
You started sorting lights and darks, the simple, repetitive task a welcome distraction. The door creaked open, and you didn't have to look up to know who it was. You could feel his presence, that familiar, earnest energy that was uniquely Izuku.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice hesitant.
"Hey," you replied, not turning from your task. You shoved a pile of dark clothes into a washer, a little more forcefully than necessary.
He stood in the doorway for a moment, shifting his weight. "I, uh… I heard about your date. I'm sorry it was bad."
You slammed the washer door shut and punched the buttons on the panel. "It was fine. It's over." Your tone was clipped, colder than you intended.
"Right," he said. He came further into the room, stopping a few feet behind you. "He sounds… like he wasn't very nice."
You let out a short, humorless laugh. "No, he wasn't. He was a narcissistic jerk. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"No! I just… I was worried about you," he said, his voice genuinely concerned.
That made you turn around. He was standing there, looking at you with those big, earnest green eyes, and something inside you snapped. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that you had to go on that terrible date. It wasn't fair that you felt so miserable. And it really wasn't fair that the one person who actually seemed to see you, who actually cared, was just standing there, looking at you with pity.
"Well, you don't have to be," you snapped, your voice sharper than you'd ever used with him before. "I'm fine. I can handle one bad date."
"I know you can," he said quickly, holding his hands up placatingly. "I just meant… you seemed really upset this morning."
"Of course I was upset! It was a disaster!" you retorted, your fox tail bristling behind you. "But I'm over it now. So you can stop looking at me like I'm some pathetic little animal that needs rescuing."
His expression faltered, a flicker of hurt crossing his features. "That's not how I look at you."
"Isn't it?" you challenged, taking a step closer. "You're always analyzing me, Izuku. Always taking notes. 'The seasonal pigmentation shift,' 'construct stability in low temperatures.' You treat me like a science experiment, not a person!"
"That's not true!" he protested, his voice rising with frustration. "I'm just… interested. I think your Quirk is fascinating. I think *you're are fascinating."
"Well, maybe I don't want to be fascinating!" you shot back. "Maybe I just wanted to have a nice date with someone who doesn't think my ice foxes are 'cute but niche'!"
The words hung in the air between you, charged and ugly. You saw the exact moment they hit him. His shoulders slumped, his ears drooping, the light in his eyes dimming. He looked away, his gaze falling on the spinning washing machine.
"I just… I would have been nicer to you," he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper. "I would have asked about your ice sculptures. I would have paid for dinner."
The quiet sincerity in his voice was worse than any argument. It was a confession, and it was the last thing you wanted to hear right then. It felt like a reproach, like he was saying, 'See? I'm the better choice, and you blew it.'
"And what, Izuku?" you asked, your voice dripping with a bitterness that surprised even you. "What would you have done? Would you have written about it in your notebook afterwards? Analyzed the 'optimal date trajectory' for a deer hybrid?"
He flinched as if you'd slapped him. "That's not fair."
"No, it's not fair!" you agreed, your voice rising again. "It's not fair that I had to sit there and listen to that jerk talk about himself for three hours! It's not fair that I came back here feeling like crap! And it's really not fair that you're standing here acting like you would have been the perfect gentleman, when you can't even work up the nerve to say anything to me until someone else asks me out!"
It was a low blow. You knew it the second the words left your mouth. You saw the raw pain on his face, the way he physically recoiled from your accusation. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. He just stared at you, his eyes wide with a hurt so deep it made your chest ache.
"I…" he finally managed, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way."
He turned and walked out of the laundry room, his heart in his stomach and his ego clearly shot down to the ground..
⋆⁺₊❅. A/N: I KNOW this one was sad and makes reader piss u off, but trust me on the next one okie???
hi! can I ask you to write something smut about Katsuki with a female reader who is hot-tempered and emotional, her and Katsuki don't get along very well and are constantly arguing (hate sex please 🥹). english is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes. tysm!!
Is this Hate?
summary: with katsuki and f!reader, heated arguments lead to even hotter hidden moments...
The agency locker room smelled like sweat, metal, and burnt ozone. Another joint patrol, another screaming match. Y/N slammed her locker shut so hard the metal rattled.
“You’re a reckless asshole, Bakugo!” she snapped, whirling on him. Her hero costume was singed at the edges from where his explosions had clipped too close. “I had the civilian clear and you still charged in like a fucking bomb!”
Katsuki yanked his gauntlets off with a snarl, crimson eyes blazing. “Maybe if you weren’t so goddamn slow I wouldn’t have to clean up your mess! Stop bitching and learn to keep up, princess.”
They were nose to nose now. The rest of the team had already cleared out—smart enough to avoid the fireworks. This was their routine. Constant arguments. Sharp words. Burning resentment that somehow never quite resolved.
Y/N shoved his chest. Hard. “Fuck you. I’m not one of your sidekicks who kisses your ass.”
He grabbed her wrist, grip bruising. “You should try it sometime. Might shut that loud mouth up for once.”
Heat flared between them—anger, frustration, and something uglier that had been building for months. Y/N’s breath hitched. She hated how attractive he looked when he was pissed off: sweat-slicked blond hair, scarred muscles tense under his tank top, that arrogant sneer.
“Make me,” she hissed.
Katsuki’s control snapped.
He shoved her back against the lockers with a metallic clang, mouth crashing into hers in a brutal kiss. It wasn’t gentle. Teeth clashed, tongues fought for dominance. Y/N bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He growled into her mouth and gripped her hips, lifting her roughly so her legs wrapped around his waist.
“Fucking hate you,” he snarled against her throat, biting down hard enough to leave a mark.
“Good,” she shot back, yanking his hair. “I hate you too.”
He ripped the zipper of her costume down with one violent tug, exposing skin still flushed from the fight. His calloused hands palmed her breasts roughly, thumbs flicking over her nipples until they hardened. Y/N arched into him, a sharp moan escaping before she could bite it back.
“Shut up,” he growled, even as he ground his growing erection against her core through their clothes.
“Make me, asshole.”
Katsuki dropped her just long enough to shove her costume pants down her thighs along with her underwear. He spun her around, pressing her front against the cold lockers. The contrast made her gasp. He kicked her legs apart and pressed two thick fingers against her entrance without warning.
“Already soaked,” he mocked, voice low and mean. “Figures. All that yelling gets you wet, doesn’t it?”
“Fuck—off,” she gasped, but pushed back against his hand anyway.
He thrust two fingers inside her roughly, curling them immediately. Y/N’s forehead hit the locker with a thud, a broken moan spilling out. He pumped them fast and deep, thumb finding her clit with brutal precision. The wet sounds echoed obscenely in the empty locker room.
“Always acting so high and mighty,” he muttered against her ear, biting the lobe. “But look at you. Dripping down my fingers like a desperate slut.”
Y/N reached back and grabbed his wrist, not to stop him but to force his fingers deeper. “And you’re hard as fuck just from arguing with me. Pathetic.”
Katsuki pulled his fingers out abruptly, making her whine at the loss. She heard the sound of his belt and zipper, then the thick head of his cock nudged against her slick folds.
“Say it again,” he demanded, gripping her hip hard enough to bruise.
“I hate you,” she spat.
He slammed into her in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. They both groaned—raw, angry sounds. He was thick, stretching her perfectly. The burn was intense and addictive.
“Again,” he growled, pulling out almost all the way before snapping his hips forward.
“I fucking hate you, Katsuki!”
He set a punishing pace, fucking her hard against the lockers. Each thrust drove her up onto her toes. The sound of skin slapping skin mixed with their heavy breathing and curses. One of his hands tangled in her hair, yanking her head back so he could bite along her neck and shoulder.
Y/N pushed back to meet every thrust, refusing to let him have full control. “Is that all you got? Thought the great Dynamight could fuck better than this.”
Katsuki snarled and pulled out completely. Before she could protest, he spun her around, lifted her again, and slammed back inside. Face to face now, her back against the lockers, legs locked around his waist. The new angle hit deeper. Her nails dug into his shoulders, drawing red lines down his back.
“Better?” he taunted, hips snapping relentlessly. Sweat dripped down his temple. His face was flushed with exertion and anger and raw lust.
Y/N’s head fell back, moans spilling freely now. “Still—ah—talk too much.”
He adjusted his grip, one hand sliding between them to rub tight circles on her clit. The added stimulation made her clench around him. Katsuki’s rhythm faltered for a second, a low groan escaping him.
“Shit… you’re so fucking tight when you’re pissed.”
“Harder,” she demanded, voice breaking. “Or are you going to cum already like a loser?”
That did it.
Katsuki fucked her like he wanted to break her—deep, punishing strokes that made the lockers rattle. His mouth found hers again in a messy, biting kiss. Y/N could taste blood from his lip. She clenched around him deliberately on every thrust, drawing those rare, wrecked sounds from his throat.
“Gonna cum,” she gasped against his mouth, emotions raw and overwhelming. Anger and pleasure twisted together until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
“Then fucking do it,” he snarled. “Cum on my cock like the stubborn bitch you are.”
The words pushed her over. Her orgasm hit hard, vision whiting out as she cried out, walls pulsing around him. Katsuki fucked her through it, pace growing erratic. A few more brutal thrusts and he buried himself deep, groaning her name as he came hard inside her.
They stayed locked together for a long moment, panting. Sweat slicked their skin. Y/N’s legs trembled around his waist. Slowly, he lowered her to the floor, but didn’t step back. His forehead rested against hers, both of them still catching their breath.
“Still hate you,” she muttered, voice hoarse.
“Yeah,” he replied, but there was no real heat left in it. His thumb brushed over a fresh hickey on her neck almost absently. “Same.”
He pulled out carefully. Cum dripped down her thighs. Katsuki stared for a second, something possessive flashing in his eyes before he looked away.
“Shower,” he grunted, already stripping the rest of his clothes. “Then we’re doing paperwork. Don’t be fucking slow.”
Y/N flipped him off but followed him toward the showers. The anger wasn’t gone. It never really was with them. But for now it had burned into something hotter, sharper, and far more satisfying.
They argued again in the showers—about patrol routes, about who got to use the good shampoo, about everything and nothing. But this time, the insults were punctuated with rough hands and biting kisses under the hot spray.
By the time they left the agency, bruises bloomed on both their bodies and neither of them could stop smirking.
This wasn’t peace.
It was better.
A/N: hate sex with katsuki might be the only hate sex fr any MHA character I'll tolerate. besides tomura maybe...
okay okay, hear me out! 7 minutes in heaven with izuku but it’s shoto’s celebration party for reaching number 2 in the pro-heroe rankings and everyone’s having too much fun and izuku is a little tipsy and holding on for dear life to not be that obvious with you but oh boy he fails poorly
7 Minutes in Heaven
༉‧₊˚. summary: at the class 1a reunion, mina (ofc) thought up a game of 7 minutes in heaven! of course, everyone joined in...but you ended up leaving someone special that night..
༉‧₊˚. warning/s: smut. mdni, 18+, nipple play, overstimulation, switch!reader, soft dom!izuku, yearning, p in v, vaginal sex, unprotected sex
༉‧₊˚.w/c: 3k~
The party at Shoto’s new apartment was louder than anyone expected. Number Two Hero status came with bigger paychecks and bigger expectations, and apparently bigger parties. Half of Class 1-A had shown up, plus a handful of other pros. Music thumped through the speakers. Empty cans and bottles lined the counters. Someone had convinced Shoto to wear a ridiculous silver “#2” sash that he kept tugging at with a deadpan expression.
Y/N leaned against the kitchen island, nursing a mixed drink and watching the chaos with a small smile. She’d come straight from patrol, still riding the high of a successful shift, and the alcohol was hitting nicely.
Izuku was across the room, flushed and laughing at something Kirishima said. He was tipsy—more than tipsy, really. His curls were messy, cheeks pink, and he kept stealing glances at her. He always did, but tonight the glances lingered. His control was slipping.
They’d been dancing around each other for years. Close friends since U.A., closer after graduation. Neither had made a real move. Tonight felt different.
“Alright, losers!” Mina shouted, clapping her hands. “We’re playing 7 Minutes in Heaven. Proper rules. No backing out.”
A chorus of groans and cheers went up. Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled. Classic Mina.
Names went into a bowl. When Mina reached in for the second name after pulling Shoto’s (who looked mildly horrified), she grinned wide.
“Y/N!”
Y/N’s stomach flipped. She stepped forward, already laughing. “This is going to be awkward no matter who—”
Mina pulled the next slip. “And Izuku!”
The room erupted. Whistles, teasing shouts. Izuku froze mid-sip, green eyes wide as they locked onto hers. His face went from pink to deep red in seconds.
“Oh shit,” Kaminari cackled. “Deku’s done for.”
“Closet’s that way,” Mina said, pointing with a flourish. “Timer starts now. Have fun, kids.”
Izuku rubbed the back of his neck, muttering something under his breath as he followed Y/N into the walk-in closet. The door clicked shut behind them. The space was cramped—coats, shelves, barely enough room to stand without touching. The muffled party noise filtered through the wood.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then Izuku let out a shaky laugh. “This is… um. Yeah.”
Y/N turned to face him. In the low light leaking under the door, she could see how glassy his eyes were. The alcohol had loosened him up. His usual careful restraint was fraying.
“You okay, Deku?” she asked softly, leaning back against the shelves.
He nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Totally. Just—didn’t expect it to be you.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, then jerked back up. “Not that I mind. I don’t. Mind. At all.”
Y/N bit her lip to keep from smiling. He was failing spectacularly at playing it cool.
The air thickened. Seven minutes wasn’t long, but it felt endless in the small space. Izuku shifted closer, one hand bracing on the shelf beside her head. He smelled like citrus and the faint trace of his hero costume soap.
“I’ve been trying not to stare at you all night,” he admitted, voice low and a little rough. Tipsy Izuku had no filter. “You look really good. You always do, but tonight it’s… unfair.”
Y/N’s pulse jumped. She reached up and tugged lightly at the collar of his shirt. “You’re not exactly subtle either, Izuku. You’ve been watching me since I walked in.”
He swallowed hard. “Can’t help it.”
The first kiss was clumsy—his mouth finding hers with more enthusiasm than grace. The second was better. Hungrier. Izuku groaned quietly against her lips, one hand sliding to her waist, pulling her closer. He was warm, solid, and clearly trying to hold back but losing the battle fast.
Y/N kissed him harder, fingers threading through his curls. He whimpered—soft, involuntary—and pressed her back against the shelves. His hips rolled forward once, almost unconsciously. She could feel him half-hard already through his jeans.
“Fuck,” he breathed against her neck when they broke for air. “Sorry. I’m— I’ve wanted this for so long and I’m a little drunk and—”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” she whispered.
He did. Deeper this time, tongue sliding against hers while his hands roamed. One slipped under the hem of her shirt, palm hot against her skin. Y/N tugged at his belt, just enough to tease, and he shuddered.
The knock on the door came way too soon.
“Time’s up, lovebirds!” Mina called, clearly delighted.
They broke apart, breathing hard. Izuku’s lips were swollen, eyes dark, and he looked like he wanted to drag her back in. Instead he rested his forehead against hers for a second.
“We should… probably go back out,” he muttered, voice wrecked.
Y/N smoothed his shirt down for him. “Or we could leave.”
His eyes snapped to hers. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
They slipped out of the closet to a round of cheers and teasing. Izuku’s face was still flushed, and he kept a hand on her lower back as they said quick goodbyes. Shoto gave them a knowing nod. Mina winked so hard it looked painful.
The cab ride to Izuku’s apartment was tense with anticipation. His thigh pressed against hers the whole way. He kept his hand on her knee, thumb stroking small circles that made her breath catch.
The second his front door closed, restraint snapped.
Izuku pushed her up against it, kissing her like he’d been starving for it. All the careful, analytical hero persona was gone—replaced by raw need. His hands were everywhere, pulling her shirt over her head, unhooking her bra with surprising speed.
“You’re sure?” he asked between kisses, ever the gentleman even while tipsy and desperate.
“Positive.” Y/N tugged his shirt off, nails scraping down his scarred chest. “Bedroom, Izuku.”
He lifted her easily—hero strength—and carried her down the short hallway. They tumbled onto his bed in a mess of limbs. Izuku hovered over her, green eyes intense even in the dim lamplight.
He kissed down her neck, her collarbones, taking one nipple into his mouth while his hand worked the other. Y/N arched into him, fingers tightening in his hair. He groaned at the taste of her, hips grinding down against her thigh.
“Been thinking about this,” he muttered against her skin. “You. Under me. Like this.”
Y/N reached between them and palmed him through his jeans. He was rock hard, straining against the fabric. “Yeah? Show me then.”
He stripped the rest of their clothes with clumsy urgency. When he finally settled between her thighs, cock nudging against her entrance, he paused.
“Look at me,” he said softly.
She did. His face was flushed, curls wild, eyes full of heat and something deeper. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, until he bottomed out with a broken moan.
“Fuck… you feel so good,” he whispered, forehead pressed to hers.
Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist. “Move, Izuku.”
He did. Slow at first, savoring it, then faster as she urged him on with nails on his back and breathy moans. The bed creaked under them. Skin slapped against skin. Izuku buried his face in her neck, muttering praises and curses between thrusts.
“You’re so wet… been wanting you for years… shit, Y/N—”
She clenched around him deliberately and he whimpered again, hips stuttering. The sound went straight to her core.
“H-harder-- fuck!,” she gasped.
He obliged, shifting angles until he hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. One hand slipped between them, thumb circling her clit with focused precision. The combination had her tumbling over the edge fast, crying out his name as she came hard around him.
Izuku followed right after, groaning her name like a prayer as he spilled inside her, hips jerking through the aftershocks.
They stayed tangled together for a long minute, catching their breath. Izuku eventually pulled out gently and rolled to the side, pulling her against his chest.
“Stay tonight?” he asked, voice hoarse but hopeful.
Y/N smiled against his skin. “Yeah. I’m not going anywhere.”
He kissed the top of her head, arms tightening around her. The party felt like it had happened hours ago. This—quiet, warm, real—felt like the start of something they’d both waited too long for.
༉‧₊˚. A/N: ofc Mina was the one that started this. so canon.
GIRL thank you so much for always taking my reqs and doing such an exquisite work i absolutely adore how you write about my stellar girl and i live for her friendship with class 1A like 🥹 they’re so cute!!!!!! and her heroe name??? SO damn cool i would have fallen in love too izuku
you told me i was creative but you really do outdo yourself with every new post so i promise i will try my best to bring you more ideas that hopefully you’ll enjoy creating, so that people can continue to see just how talented you are!
starry kisses for u 💫💫💫
— 🌟
OMG ANNIEE!!! I LOVE U SO MUCH!!!!! Im just glad I get to write these ideas with such great ideas and backstories fused into them, and not only that, but creativity is the basis of writing-- or art in general-- and having support from people like you means a lot. love uuuuuu 🦭🦭🦭
