ೀ head during a 𓈒 ˙ phone call ♡⃘ ₊
╰┈➤ included: izuku, katsuki, shoto, eijirou, denki, hanta, hitoshi, tenya, neito, fumikage, tamaki, mirio, shouta, hizashi, keigo, touya, tomura ◌ ִ 𓈒 °
‧₊˚ ┊warnings: aged-up, timeskip, nsfw (head, hair-pulling, gagging, mouth-fucking.)
izuku’s sitting so proper at his desk, headset snug on his ears, posture stiff like he’s giving a report to the whole damn commission. “yes, sir, i’ll forward the—ahh—” his breath cracks when you slide your tongue along the underside of his cock, your hand curling at the base. his notes scatter to the floor as he grips the desk edge like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. freckles darken as his face flushes hot, and he stammers into the call, “m-mmh—sorry, i—i mean, i’ll forward the files by morning.”
you hollow your cheeks, swallowing him down, and the sound of your gag makes his thighs quake. his other hand presses over his mouth like it’ll hide the desperate whines spilling out of him. the caller drones on, but izuku can barely focus—his hips jerk forward on instinct, pushing his cock deeper into your throat until his tip nudges the back. “yes, sir… i-i’m still here,” he gasps, eyes squeezed shut, every muscle strung tight as he fights the urge to moan your name out loud.
he cums hard, cock twitching against your tongue, voice strangled as he blurts out a shaky, “thank you for the update—i’ll handle it,” before hanging up so fast it borders on rude. he’s panting, chest heaving, headset sliding crooked over one ear as he stares down at you. strands of hair stick to his sweaty forehead, his voice a wreck when he rasps, “fuck, baby, i’m so—so sorry. i couldn’t stop. i couldn’t…”
katsuki’s already irritated when he takes the call, growling, “what the hell is it now?” but the second you sink to your knees, tugging down his sweats, the growl cuts off with a hiss. his cock’s heavy, flushed, already twitching as you wrap your lips around him. his free hand grips the phone tight, knuckles whitening while the other fists in your hair, yanking just enough to keep his voice from breaking.
he’s trying to bark orders, every word laced with strain. “send the fuckin’ report and stop wasting my—shit—time.” his hips jerk when you swallow him down, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth, wet slurps filling the quiet of the office. his eyes roll back for a split second before he catches himself, jaw clenched, throat working to disguise the guttural groans building in his chest.
when he cums, it’s violent—hips bucking up, cock pulsing as he grits his teeth so hard it hurts. hot cum spills down your throat while he snarls into the phone, “i said we’re done here.” he slams it down, shoving your head all the way until your nose is pressed against his stomach. “fuckin’ brat,” he growls, voice ragged, “you’re gonna choke on every drop since you thought you could pull this shit.”
he leaned back against his chair, his voice is calm when he answers, perfectly steady. “yes, i’ll coordinate with the patrol team tomorrow.” his hands rest neatly on the desk, but when you unzip his pants and free his cock, he hesitates for half a second before continuing like nothing’s wrong. his voice doesn’t shake, but the heat in his cheeks betrays him, ears going red as your lips wrap around the swollen tip.
your tongue flicks the slit, and he exhales slow through his nose, eyes shutting briefly. “understood, i’ll review the incident report,” he murmurs, even as his thighs flex, cock twitching in your throat. his hand slips down to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair, and though his tone stays polite, his hips start rolling ever so slightly, pushing himself deeper.
he finishes quietly, cock throbbing as warm spurts spill into your mouth. “yes… that’s fine. thank you,” he says smoothly, like nothing’s happening, but the tremor in his voice gives him away. when the line clicks dead, his hand tightens in your hair, mismatched eyes half-lidded as he murmurs, “again. don’t stop until i tell you.”
eijirou’s enthusiasm almost kills him—he answers the call with that bright grin, “hey, yeah! red riot here, what’s up?” then you take his cock into your mouth, and the grin crumbles. his voice cracks high-pitched, “o-oh, uh, yes sir!” he laughs nervously to cover it, but the wet sounds of your sucking echo loud, and his cheeks burn scarlet.
he grips the edge of his chair, trying not to thrust up into your mouth. “yes, i can definitely—ah—cover that shift!” his voice wavers, turning breathless as sweat beads down his temples. every time you swallow around him, his hips jerk despite his best effort, and a choked moan almost slips out as he forces it into a cough. his thighs tremble, muscles flexing as he mouths silent apologies down at you.
he cums so hard it knocks the breath out of him, groaning into his palm as hot spurts fill your throat. he ends the call in a rush, nearly dropping his phone. “shit, babe—” he gasps, pulling you up for a kiss while his cock twitches against your lips. “you almost made me blow my cover. god, that was—fuck—you’re insane.”
he hurriedly picked up the phone as soon as it buzzed—denki’s a disaster from the jump. he answers the phone, voice cheerful, “yo! chargebolt speaking—” then his jaw drops as you swallow him whole. “holy fuck!” he blurts, way too loud, scrambling to laugh it off. “uhhh, i mean—no problem here! just a little, uh, static interference!” his words tumble out so fast he barely makes sense.
his hips can’t stay still—he’s bucking up into your throat, one hand covering his mouth to stifle whimpers while the other tangles messily in your hair. “patrols? yeah, got it, totally! all good!” his voice cracks, half-strangled moans slipping through as drool drips down your chin. his thighs are shaking, muscles tensed, eyes rolling back when you hum around him.
when he cums, it’s messy and loud—his whole body jerks, cock twitching as hot cum spills down your throat. “shit—fuck—ahh!” he cries, clapping a hand over his mic like it’ll save him. he slumps back after hanging up, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, still trembling. “you’re evil, baby,” he pants, grinning weakly, “and i fucking love it.”
he’s leaned back in his chair, headset on, cracking jokes with his agency team about patrol schedules when you slip under his desk. he doesn’t notice at first, too caught up in laughing, until your fingers tug at his belt. his eyes widen, and he nearly chokes mid-laugh, forcing a fake cough into the mic. “y-yeah, no, i’m fine. allergies.” his hand flies down to shoo you, but the second your mouth wraps around the head of his cock, his head tips back with a sharp inhale he barely muffles.
he keeps trying to contribute to the call, words stumbling, voice breaking whenever you hollow your cheeks and drag your tongue along a vein. “uh—yeah, good idea, patrol… shift the east side… fuck—” his knuckles whiten gripping the desk, thighs trembling while you bob faster. he’s fighting to keep his voice steady, grin gone, sweat beading at his temple as you take him deeper, swallowing him until his eyes roll back.
the moment his team hangs up, he rips his headset off and lets out the groan he’s been holding in. both hands grip your hair, dragging you up and down his cock rougher, sloppy strings of spit coating him. “fuck, you almost made me cum with them listening—god, you’re evil,” he pants, hips thrusting up desperate. he cums hard down your throat, groaning your name, chest heaving, before pulling you into his lap, cock still twitching. “round two. no call to save you this time.”
his voice is calm, measured, running through intel reports over the phone with another pro hero when you crawl onto his lap without warning. he shoots you a warning glare, one hand shoving lightly at your shoulder, but you ignore him and tug at his sweatpants. “yeah, that’s… that’s fine, send it over,” he manages, voice dangerously even. the moment your lips wrap around his cock though, that even tone falters, a subtle catch betraying him.
he bites his lip raw trying to keep quiet, hand tangling in your hair but not pushing you away. every time you sink down and gag around him, his grip tightens, head dropping back against the chair. “no, i’m listening—ah—keep going,” he breathes into the phone, voice husky now, broken around the edges. your tongue drags slow under the head and his free hand clenches at the armrest, trying to ground himself.
when the call ends, his restraint snaps. he yanks you off his cock just long enough to mutter, “you think you’re funny? making me hold back?” before shoving himself back down your throat, fucking into your mouth hard and sloppy. spit drips down your chin as he groans, loud now, no filter, rutting until he spills down your throat. “next time i’m answering calls with you choking on me the whole time,” he rasps, pulling you up to kiss you, tasting himself on your lips.
he’s standing at his desk, phone tucked between shoulder and ear, rattling off patrol statistics in that crisp, professional tone when you sink to your knees in front of him. “what are you—?” his question cuts off into a strangled gasp when you tug his slacks down and lick along his cock. “n-no, everything is in order, i assure you,” he stammers into the phone, face heating crimson, hand shaking as he adjusts his glasses.
every swirl of your tongue around his tip makes him falter, stuttering over words he usually speaks with perfect composure. “yes, i… i’ll send the documentation, ngh—promptly.” his thighs twitch as you swallow him down, drool dripping onto your hands. he presses a hand to your head but not to stop you—his hips bucking despite himself, breath growing heavy and uneven.
the second the call ends, he collapses against the desk, hand flying to cover his flushed face. “unacceptable behavior,” he mutters, though his cock throbs hard in your mouth as he thrusts shallowly. he cums with a sharp cry, hands gripping your hair tight, filling your throat until you’re choking on it. afterward, he pulls you up into his arms, still flustered, glasses fogged. “we… we will be discussing this misconduct later,” he pants, though his shaky voice betrays how much he wants you to do it again.
he’s mid-rant on the phone about another agency’s incompetence, pacing across the office, when you kneel in his path. he doesn’t pause, too worked up, until you tug his zipper down and take his cock into your mouth in one slick motion. his knees buckle, hand slapping against the wall for support, but his mouth keeps moving. “a-as i was saying, utterly disgraceful—fuck—”
his words falter every time you swallow him deep, but he covers it with little coughs and scoffs, smirking to himself between shaky breaths. “pathetic, absolutely pathetic—hah—don’t you agree?” he spits into the phone, all while your throat milks him. his free hand grips your jaw, guiding your pace while his cock twitches on your tongue. his voice cracks mid-sentence and he barely salvages it, smirking wider at the thought of almost being caught.
when the call ends, he yanks your head back, a smug laugh slipping out. “you really tried to humiliate me, didn’t you? thought i’d break?” then he shoves himself back down your throat with no warning, groaning, “let’s see who breaks first.” he fucks your mouth raw, spit dripping down his cock, until he cums deep, holding you down while he fills you up. only when you’re gasping for air does he let go, wiping his mouth with his thumb and sneering, “pathetic, but mine.”
he’s composed, voice low and steady as he answers a late-night call from a colleague, discussing strategy in his usual serious tone. you approach slow, slipping between his legs where he sits, looking up at him with pleading eyes. he shakes his head once, stern, but when you nuzzle against his cock through his pants, his composure wavers. “yes… continue,” he murmurs, trying to keep steady while you free him and lick along his shaft.
the first time you take him fully into your mouth, his jaw tightens, breath catching audibly. he clears his throat to cover it, your mouth wrapped around him as he keeps speaking into the phone. “our patrol should… shift to the northern—ah—sector.” his hand clenches into a fist against the desk while his other trembles in your hair, urging you silently deeper. his voice grows rougher, sentences clipped, betraying the strain as you gag softly around him.
once the call ends, he finally lets out a broken groan, beak-like mouth opening wide. he thrusts into your throat slow but deep, savoring the slick sounds, the way your throat tightens around him. “you test my restraint,” he rasps, hips rocking harder, until he cums with a guttural sound, filling your throat in heavy pulses. his hand strokes your cheek gently after, voice low, reverent even in his wrecked state. “you undo me so easily… and i cannot resist.”
he’s sitting at his desk, phone cradled against his ear, muttering updates in that soft, nervous tone when you climb under it. he freezes mid-sentence when your hand strokes him through his pants, eyes going wide. “n-no, i’m still here, just—ah—something fell,” he stammers into the receiver, face flushed. when you finally pull him free and wrap your lips around his cock, his voice cracks so hard he has to fake a cough, hand trembling as it covers his mouth.
his thighs quiver while you bob slowly, tongue dragging under his shaft, his voice breaking on every other word. “uh—yes, i’ll… i’ll file the report, ngh—tomorrow.” his free hand fists tight in your hair, trying to keep you from taking him too deep, but he can’t stop the way his hips jerk every time you swallow around him. his breath is uneven, shaky, and he has to bite his knuckles to hide the sounds spilling from him.
the second he hangs up, he lets out a choked moan, hips thrusting up desperate. his cock twitches violently in your mouth as he pants, “y-you, i can’t—i’m gonna—” before spilling deep down your throat, body shuddering with the release. he slumps forward, hair falling into his face, whispering breathlessly, “you’ll kill me one day… i swear.”
mirio’s leaning back in his chair, phone on speaker, chatting casually with his sidekick, voice all bright and cheerful. you crawl between his legs with a grin, tugging his sweats down, and he glances down with wide eyes. “h-hey, don’t—” he starts, but his sentence ends in a muffled groan when your mouth slides over his cock. “hah, yeah, i’m listening! just uh… eating lunch,” he lies easily, laughter in his voice even as his hand grips the desk hard.
he’s trying to keep his tone upbeat, forcing words through clenched teeth while you bob faster, spit dripping down your chin. “that’s a great idea, haha—ah—really thorough.” his voice lifts a little too high when you swallow him to the base, his laugh breaking off into a sharp breath. his free hand comes down to stroke your cheek, trying to ground himself, but he can’t stop his hips from bucking.
when the call ends, he groans out loud, head tipping back. both hands grip your hair, and he fucks your throat shamelessly, loud and messy. “god, you almost made me break on the line—so bad, baby.” he spills hard, cum coating your throat in hot spurts, moaning your name with abandon. when he pulls you up after, he’s still grinning, flushed. “guess i owe you one, huh? you’re too good at distracting me.”
he’s slouched at his desk, phone balanced in hand, voice low and gravelly as he gives curt instructions. you crawl under without a word, and he barely glances down, sighing. “don’t,” he mutters into the phone, but when you tug his pants open and take his cock into your mouth, his jaw tightens. his voice doesn’t falter—years of control—though his eyes flutter shut, breath quieter between words.
he keeps his tone flat, even, but the twitch of his cock gives him away as your tongue drags along his slit. “we’ll adjust patrol rotations… no, keep the schedule tight.” his hand drops into your hair, guiding you slow, deliberately shallow, forcing himself to stay composed. the only sign of strain is the way his sentences clip short, every word measured, sweat beading at his temple while you work him over.
once the call ends, his mask drops instantly. his hand fists tight in your hair, dragging you down to take him deep, groan rough and guttural spilling from his chest. “you think i can’t break? you’re wrong.” he thrusts hard, relentless, until he cums down your throat with a sharp hiss, holding you still through it. afterward, he leans back in his chair, tugging you up by the chin, voice rough. “clean me up. you started it.”
he’s pacing the office, phone pressed to his ear, voice loud and booming as he goes over outreach plans. you kneel by the couch, eyes playful, tugging his zipper down mid-sentence. he nearly shouts into the receiver when your mouth engulfs his cock, covering the noise with a forced laugh. “hahaha! yeah, totally, sounds awesome!” he says way too loud, hips jerking forward helplessly as you bob your head.
his voice wavers every time you swallow him down, laughter cracking into sharp gasps. “uh-huh, yeah! keep the kids—ah—busy!” he bites his knuckle to hide the moan when your tongue swirls under the head, hips bucking despite himself. his free hand flies to the back of your head, not pushing but holding, like he needs the anchor. sweat rolls down his neck, his usual booming confidence breaking apart.
as soon as the call ends, he groans loud, no restraint, thrusting hard into your throat. “oh fuck yeah, baby, that mouth’s mine.” his hips snap faster, sloppy and desperate, until he cums hot and heavy, filling your throat in messy spurts. his head tips back, moaning your name like it’s a song, and when he looks back down at you, his grin is wild. “next time, i’m putting it on speaker. wanna hear how good i sound getting sucked off.”
he’s lounging back in his chair, eyes shifting lazily, phone pressed to his ear as he smooth-talks one of his assistants with that cocky grin. you slip between his legs, tugging his pants down slow, and his eyes widen for a second before his smirk deepens. “yeah, i’m listening—always paying attention,” he says smoothly, even as your lips wrap around his cock and his breath stutters. his thighs twitch wildly, betraying him, while his hand finds the back of your head, holding you steady.
he tries to keep his tone light, confident, but every time you swallow him deeper, his voice cracks just a little. “sure thing—fuck—uh, i mean, of course, we’ll finalize that.” his shoulders tremble, his hands brushing over your bare arms, restless with the strain of keeping quiet. his thighs flex under your grip, cock twitching in your mouth as he forces himself to sound composed, smirk faltering with every wet slurp echoing in the quiet office.
the second he hangs up, he lets out a sharp groan, head dropping back. “fuck, angel, almost made me lose it mid-sentence,” he pants, hips jerking up into your throat. his hands pin your wrists to the chair as he fucks your mouth raw, pace relentless, cock shuddering with each thrust. he spills deep with a sharp curse, grinding until you’ve swallowed every drop, smirking down at you breathlessly. “you’re dangerous, you know that? damn near killed me with that mouth.”
he’s leaning against the counter, cigarette hanging from his lips, phone tucked between his shoulder and ear, voice low and mocking as he argues with someone on the other end. you drop to your knees without a word, unzipping his jeans, and he smirks around the cigarette when your mouth closes over him. “yeah, whatever—i’ll handle it,” he drawls, voice rough, his tone hitching only slightly when your throat tightens around his cock.
he takes a long drag, eyes locked on you as smoke curls lazily past his lips, trying to hide the twitch in his jaw every time you gag on him. “don’t waste my time—shit—get it done,” he snaps into the phone, hiding his breathless groan with a cough. his hand fists in your hair, guiding you down slow, cruel, forcing you to swallow him all the way while his voice remains sharp, venom dripping even as sweat rolls down his temples.
the call ends with him muttering a rough “fuck off,” and then he’s dragging you off his cock only to slam back into your mouth harder, groaning ragged and broken. “fuck, you almost made me moan in their ear, brat,” he snarls, hips snapping mercilessly. his thrusts grow frantic, sloppy, until he cums hot and messy down your throat, cigarette falling forgotten to the floor. he tips your chin up, smirking ruined and breathless. “next time, i’ll put it on video. let ‘em see what you do to me.”
he’s hunched over his desk, headset on, voice scratchy as he growls orders to his underlings, one hand raking through his messy hair. you crawl under the desk, sliding his sweats down, and he jolts, glaring down with wild eyes. “don’t—fuck—” he hisses, but the second your tongue runs along the head of his cock, his knees buckle. “y-yeah, keep watch on the base perimeter,” he mutters into the mic, voice breaking hard when you take him deeper.
he tries to hide his gasps behind clenched teeth, but every wet drag of your mouth has his hips jerking forward. “tch—handle it yourselves,” he snaps, pretending his uneven breaths are just irritation. his fingers claw into the edge of the desk, shoulders tense, while his other hand trembles as it finds your hair, pushing you down further. his voice wavers with every clench of your throat, a growl bleeding into his words.
when he finally cuts the call, the headset clatters to the floor. his snarl rips out, hips rutting into your mouth fast and brutal, sloppy thrusts making you choke around him. “fuck, fuck—i couldn’t even focus—look what you did.” he cums hard, cock twitching violently, hot spurts filling your throat until tears sting your eyes. his nails drag along your jaw as he pants, ruined voice cracking. “you’re mine. no one else gets me like this. no one.”
