so I just have a question u see, my🥰boyfriend's birthday is exactly in 8 day's & I was planning on sending him a sweet romantic happy birthday txt (since he's always preoccupied with work & his 2 kids, no he is no longer with the mother of his children)... so I was planning on a happy birthday txt. Especially on his day & since he's told me in the past tht nobody cares for him on his birthday. So the txt tht I was planning of was something along these lines (also, just to give u guys a heads up, I gave him the petnames of handsome, cariño, & cafetero):
-Hey good morning to my most handsome & funny man tht I have ever had in my life💕. Just wanted to let u know tht I am so happy tht I got to know u all those years ago💙. But also I am so very sorry for the way I acted tht day, sorry I gave u nothing but attitude. I love how you've always been there for me whenever I needed u. For always being a gentleman, for being sincere, & honest with me. As well as thank u for allowing me to start a new chapter with u, & not treating me like a freak, since I did have a high school crush on u😅. But I hope & wish tht God will bless me to be by ur side as well as tht God will bless u with many more FANTASTIC & happy years ahead of you. I love u,😚💝
Or something like this....
-Happy birthday to u my handsome cariño💙🥰, I really do wish tht I had the chance to see u this day, but I know I can't🥺💔. But what I do want u to know is to enjoy this very special day on which u were born 💙. Because what i see from u is a strong, brave, selfless gentleman. A gentleman who made me believe in love as well as someone who was able to love & care for others, tht I wasn't just the only one. Hope God blesses u with many more FANTASTIC & joyful years ahead of u, my handsome cariño💙. Just wish I could've enjoyed this day right by ur side💗💕anyways love u with all my heart🥰😘💝.
JJK MEN WITH SHY/NERDY READER! (masterlist) —series in progress: taglist closed
GOJO AND HIS SHY GIRL! 𐔌 she’s oh so awkward, anxious, and achingly inexperienced, but he loves her if not more for all of it.
⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ making his shy girl ask for it! — you never tell him what you really want. so of course he wants you to practice your big girl words while you’re taking him :(
⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ helping you out when you’re stressed — your boyfriend finds you crying over a test . . . so he helps you out and makes you feel better. now you’re crying for a completely different reason.
⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ blowing the birthday boy! — you’ve been anxious the whole day about your one last birthday present for him. it’s something you’ve never given . . . and it’s not something that comes in a box. it’s you and your mouth.
⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ blue christmas — (backstory) you thought you’d be spending christmas alone. gojo doesn’t let that happen. in other words he heals your aching heart
GETO AND HIS SHY, NERDY GIRL! (WHO’S SECRETLY A FREAK?) 𐔌 he never thought his sweet girlfriend who blushed and stuttered over kisses would have such a . . . colorful digital footprint.
⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ finding your twitter porn stash?! — one bored scroll though your phone while your cozy reading a book has him discovering lots of things . . .
⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ recreating your favorite porn! — immediately after finding your enlightening stash of twitter porn, he can’t help but want to recreate it with you!
SUKUNA AND HIS CUTE NERD! 𐔌 the two of you are polar opposites. but who cares? surely not sukuna. he’s never found anyone as cute as you! and boy . . . the things you do to him.
⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ making out for the first time? — he gets carried away . . . and it includes more than just hot kisses. who knew the big, bad, ryomen sukuna would get hard just from making out with a girl? (his girl.)
⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ fingering for the first time! — sukuna manages to holds himself back for a whole week after making out with you. but when you show up at his door he can't do that for any longer.
⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ eating you out for the first time! — he’s surprised to find his goody girlfriend has skipped class the next morning. when he finds you in one of his shirts and just panties? you bet he’ll be having something sweeter for breakfast.
⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ proof drying humping is mind altering! — you’re so stressed studying for exams, so of course, you go to your boyfriend for comfort. only to take out your frustrations in a different form . . .
SERIES SYNOPSIS: in a bustling city where hybrids live in coexistence, you, a timid bunny hybrid desperate to escape your family’s suffocating expectations, takes a leap into independence. but when you answer a craigslist ad for a roommate, you find yourself sharing a cramped apartment with satoru gojo — a dazzling, dangerous snow leopard hybrid with a smile as lethal as his claws. bound by necessity, yet tangled in instinct, your uneasy coexistence quickly spirals into a simmering dance of predator and prey — where every glance, every accidental touch, and every late-night silence threatens to shatter the fragile walls between friendship and something far, far more primal.
Written for #DRUNKTOBER2021, a collaboration with @quirky-and-kind. All fics created will be NSFW and tagged #twalcohol.
A/N: Last one, friends. Enjoy!
It’s thrilling seeing him this way, your calm and soft-spoken lover becoming completely unraveled at your gentle coaxing.
Drunken and dizzy and carefree, he’s glowing, shining under the club’s neon lights – so, so bright with rose red blossoming over his cheeks, flustered and slightly dazed from his whiskey and the sugary-sweetness of the drink he’s tasted straight from your lips all night.
Exhilarated, he moves your body with his, hands on your waist and a leg in between your thighs; flush and hot and perfectly fitted as his heart thrums under your palm to the heavy bass of the music – it echoes through your ears and makes the entirety of your body hum in euphoria.
You give in then, push your face into his neck, tonguing the ridges of his pulsing throat, marking him up with your tongue then your teeth.
“You’re insatiable,” he chides half-heartedly, voice low and barely audible against your ear. “People are staring.”
You know they’re not – most are dancing or too busy making out with their own partners – but god, he’s dazzling and vivid and you want them to see; want to mark him until it’ll be obvious to everyone once the lights come on just who it is he belongs to.
“That’s good, let them look.” You whisper against him, and he curses quietly, shuddering when you lick a particularly sensitive spot – the one right at the juncture of his neck and collarbone that makes goosebumps explode down his arms and makes him tighten his hold on you.
Darkness flutters over his eyes briefly before Jihyun pushes you back and catches your mouth with his instead. With a half-whimper, half-moan, he grabs the back of your neck in one large, warm hand your lower back with the other and presses your body flush against his. Firm. Strong. Almost desperate. Your own hands rest on his shoulders before one reaches up and cups his face, trailing your fingertips through the sharpness of his jaw.
“Come with me,” he whispers, hooded eyes and pupils blown – you’re galvanized by him.
Jihyun tugs you through the crowd, hand entwined with yours as he leads you to the back of the club and into a single restroom. Once the door shuts behind him and he tugs on it to make sure it’s locked, you’re seated on the sink, pressed up against the dirty mirror, purse and keys clattering onto the tile.
“What do you want from me?” he mumbles as he presses his face into your collar, fitting himself in between your knees. The vibration of his voice tumbles into your ears and down the length of your spine, spinning the weight in your stomach into a typhoon.
“Everything.”
He smiles, cruel and hungry at the way you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist and tug him down by his hair to kiss him.
You savor his lips, caressing the line of his cupid’s bow, tongue flicking over the corner of his mouth. You can’t stop kissing him, hands tug his hair harder and your teeth pinch his bottom lip. Jihyun responds by growling softly, biting you back, squeezing your thighs before easing you to the edge of the sink, pressing his hardness against your panties.
Trembling, you slip your hands under his button up and touch the smooth planes of his torso, the ridges in his abdomen and the way they contract under your touch. Breathless and wild, he weaves one hand in between your bodies, slips it under your skirt to feel your center. Your underwear is soaked; has been since you were grinding on his thigh in the middle of the dancefloor.
“Baby,” he sighs into your neck, begins to slide his digits up and down, getting the slippery wetness all over his fingers. “Already so wet...”
A shudder rolls through your body upon hearing his words and you arch into his touch, moaning when he rubs your clit in perfect pulsing circles. He moves forward, kissing the tops of your breasts above your blouse, nipping at the soft flesh.
Soft moans and damp gasps, he works his way into you, fingers first. One, then two, then three because he’s always captivated by the way you unravel for him so quickly. Doesn’t even care about himself most times, even though you plead with me, Jihyun, come with me.
“Feel good?” Jihyun asks, voice raspy. You’re a mess now, hips stuttering against his hand as you gasp and keen and whimper.
You do. Oh, you do, and he knows. He knows everything about you and knows exactly what you want when you writhe this way. The mischievous chuckle that pours from his throat vibrates against your chest.
“I’ll give it to you,” he mumbles against your lips before he reaches down and undoes his pants, tugs them down enough to grip his cock in one hand and moves your panties to the side with the other, hips inching closer and straightening himself until you’re aligned perfectly.
Strong and velvet, easily slick with wet from how he’s coaxed you open, he slides in. All the way. That swell. That hurt. The throb of him pumping into you. His voice, quaking just a little bit, simmering low and then broken; sung praises and ramblings of a man far gone as he moves inside you.
Hips rolling this way and that, bucking slow but steady, and hard, too, his pelvis flush against yours with each contact. Your fingertips dig gently to anchor yourself.
You swallow his voice, his rhythm, still greedy for more because you need him—open, taken, devastated.
“Take all of me,” he whispers, “I want you to have it all.”
Jihyun. Jihyun. Jihyun.
He holds fast one final time, kissing your crumbling mouth, quivering, lips swollen and kiss-bruised. All of you and all of him folding in over each other, dashing yourselves onto an undoing so complete you burst apart. And then, he plummets, too, shuddering and wrecked; he smiles softly against your mouth – sweet and lopsided and beautiful.
Entirely yours.
header created by my Queen Frostine @luxielle | divider by @firefly-graphics
You stood on the porch of the Boar Hat, the evening air crisp and cool against your skin. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in a final, dramatic display of orange and purple before fading to a deep, velvety blue. A light breeze rustled the leaves of the trees nearby, a gentle whisper in the growing twilight.
A familiar warmth enveloped you from behind as a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist. "Thinking about something, Y/N?" Ban's voice, a low rumble, vibrated through your back. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his scent—a mix of ale, a little bit of sweat from a long day, and something uniquely his—filling your senses.
You leaned back into his embrace, your head resting against his. "Just watching the sunset," you replied softly. "It's beautiful."
He hummed in agreement, his gaze following yours. For a moment, you both just stood there, a quiet, comfortable silence settling between you. It was moments like these, without the chaos of battles or the rowdiness of the tavern, that you cherished the most. They were a testament to the life you'd built together, a small, peaceful haven in a world that was often anything but.
He kissed your neck gently, sending a shiver down your spine. "Not as beautiful as you."
You chuckled, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Smooth, Ban. Still haven't lost your touch, I see."
"Never," he promised, his grip tightening just a little. He turned you around to face him, his crimson eyes locking with yours. "You know, for a guy who's lived forever, I still can't believe I get to wake up next to you every day." He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. "You're my forever, Y/N. My one and only."
The sincerity in his voice was so pure, so raw, that it took your breath away. You reached up, your fingers tracing the faint scar near his jawline. "And you're mine," you whispered, your heart swelling with a love so profound it ached. "My immortal thief."
He grinned, the familiar, cocky smirk gracing his lips. "And you, my love, are the one who finally stole this thief's heart."
He leaned in, and as your lips met, it wasn't just a kiss. It was a promise. A promise of a future, of a love that defied time and destiny, and of a lifetime of sunsets on a quiet porch, with his arms wrapped around you.
*Credits of Nantsu no Taizai (Seven Deadly Sins) and Ban character to original owner(s)
⚠️ HUGE NSFW WARNING ⚠️MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, NSFW warning, 18+, addicted Ban, fem! succubus demon/angel y/n, rough six, on the bed, on the counter, you name it they probably did it there, Six basically every chapter.
You are Meliodas's big sister, when he started to care for the mortal world and see it through another set of eyes, you helped him get back and forth between worlds with your magic, all while being extra careful not to be noticed. After he started falling in love you were still helping him and honestly didn't care what he did.
Being tethered to the under world, your father locked you away for good after finding out all the things you'd done behind his back.
After a long time, Meliodas asked you for help with a certain person. You would do anything for your little brother, so you helped but didn't expect this person in question to be someone you knew long ago, not to mention how attractive he still was. You also seemed to catch his eye, which brought back the thought of loving in the way Meliodas once did. But your life is too complicated. Just leaving your father’s hold wasn’t that simple. How would this work...
⚠️ HUGE NSFW WARNING ⚠️MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, NSFW warning, 18+, addicted Ban, fem! succubus demon/angel y/n, rough six, on the bed, on the counter, you name it they probably did it there, Six basically every chapter.
You are Meliodas's big sister, when he started to care for the mortal world and see it through another set of eyes, you helped him get back and forth between worlds with your magic, all while being extra careful not to be noticed. After he started falling in love you were still helping him and honestly didn't care what he did.
Being tethered to the under world, your father locked you away for good after finding out all the things you'd done behind his back.
After a long time, Meliodas asked you for help with a certain person. You would do anything for your little brother, so you helped but didn't expect this person in question to be someone you knew long ago, not to mention how attractive he still was. You also seemed to catch his eye, which brought back the thought of loving in the way Meliodas once did. But your life is too complicated. Just leaving your father’s hold wasn’t that simple. How would this work...
°｡✴｡° that bit of fuel to your fire, stoke your desire °｡✴｡°
toshinori yagi (all might) x reader
warnings: p in v, oral (f!receiving), overstimming toshi, riding toshi, dacryphilia / crackin that old man til he cries, toshi has a praise kínk, creampíe, 18+ ONLY, MDNI
It had been many years since you introduced Toshinori to the peace and comfort of a home – in lieu of the soulless, vacant penthouse he returned to every night, which he considered to be a mere vessel for sleep. Only after you moved in, filling every atom of the space with love, did he consider it a true home. Very quickly, he stopped dreading returning there after the day was done. In fact, he looked forward to it, and considered it the best part of the day.
Toshinori heard the shower and the faint sound of your favorite music coming from the bathroom as he shut the front door behind him. He smiled softly to himself – even just the thought of you always had that effect on him. When he made his way into the kitchen, following the scent of something delicious, he found that you’d saved him a plate of the dinner you’d made. And – as always, whenever he had to stay late at UA – a little note, encouraging him to go ahead and eat, and telling him that you love him.
Despite the flavor of the food, it was hurriedly and haphazardly eaten. The ache in the older man’s bones was a more pressing matter than savoring the food, and he wasted no further time in heading to the bedroom, stripping down to a t-shirt and boxers, and climbing into bed to wait on you.
An “everything shower.” That’s what you’d called it one day, when the task took considerably longer than a normal shower. Toshinori suspected that’s what was going on, so he allowed himself a moment to begin looking over emails and some papers he needed to grade.
When the water shut off, he called out to you to let you know he was home, and you greeted him cheerfully in response. But he knew to not expect you for a bit – especially after he once watched your post-shower routine.
Toshinori was focused on reading the last student essay when he heard you enter the bedroom. Determined to finish it and put that behind him, he called out “Hi, honey” with his eyes glued to the messy handwriting on the page.
“Hi. Grading papers?” you replied sweetly, and your husband nodded.
“This is the last one. I’ll be done in a moment, I promise,” he assured you, and you hummed in response. From his peripheral vision, Toshinori saw you move to your vanity, and a slight jolt went through him when he realized what you were about to do.
Lotion. That jasmine-scented lotion someone had gifted you, that he adored. And, most importantly, he couldn’t get enough of watching the way you applied it. Toshinori felt like a bit of a weirdo for it, but something about the way you rubbed it into your soft, sweet legs made his chest warm up every time.
Opting to steal a glance before returning to the essay, Toshinori granted himself a peek at you – only to find himself doing a genuine, honest-to-God double-take.
Light blue lace cupped your breasts, a bit of the supple flesh threatening to spill out over the top of the cups with the way you were bent at the hips to lather the lotion into your legs. Thin, gauzy material of the same color cascaded around your torso. As he followed it down, down to where it stopped at your hips, he caught a glimpse of the matching thong panties you had on underneath.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. I went shopping today. Saw this cute nightgown in the mall. What do you think?” you asked, as nonchalant as could be, as though you had no idea what you were doing to him.
Toshinori was only vaguely aware that he scribbled an A onto the top of the essay before setting it on the stack of papers on his nightstand. Slowly, as though he thought he was dreaming and any sudden movement would wake himself up, he rose from the bed and came over to you, his boxers seeming to grow tighter with every step.
He stood dumbly beside you, fingers twitching at his sides, for several moments. You fought back a giggle as you asked, “You alright, honey?”
“It’s beautiful. You – you’re beautiful,” Toshinori managed to choke out, his voice a mere whisper. You murmured your thanks, but he hadn’t snapped quite enough for you to want to drop the nonchalant act yet. However, when a hand rose to hover near your waist, and he nearly whimpered, “Can… can I touch you? Please, sweetheart, I – I need to touch you.”
You stood up straight then – done with the lotion, and done with pretending you didn’t know what you were doing. The smirk on your lips told Toshinori that much.
“Of course, baby.”
Toshinori dove in to kiss you with all the ardor and adoration of a man who’s been lost at sea for a year. His arms circled your waist, massive hands splayed across your back at first, before they allowed themselves to wander. It seemed as though they were in a mindless frenzy – your hips, your ass, your breasts – but never too frenzied to focus on kissing you with such passion that your knees grew weak.
“Go lay on the bed, Toshi. You’ve had a long day – let me take care of you,” you purred into the shell of his ear. He groaned, but you felt him shake his head.
“N-No, honey, you… you dressed up so pretty for me. I want to thank you for it,” Toshinori argued, then began kissing down your neck. “Besides… I haven’t had any dessert yet.”
Everything between him saying that and how you currently found yourself was a blur. The thong had disappeared the moment your back hit the bed, but the babydoll top remained. You were vaguely aware that you’d cum once already – or was it twice? – but your husband showed no signs of stopping.
His thick blonde hair was as messed up as it could possibly be, from your fingers raking through and pulling on it, and you could faintly see a flush across his cheeks. But the way his brows pinched together, the way he was moaning into your soaked pussy, the way he was rutting his hips into the mattress – all showed how engrossed in his work he was.
Toshinori never ate you out merely as preparation for sex – he ate you out because it was his favorite goddamn thing on the planet. And it showed.
“Toshi – oh my god, Toshi, baby –” you whimpered, attempting to warn him that you were about to cum again. But the way he groaned with his lips wrapped around your clit when you said his name, caused all every word you’ve ever known to vacate your mind.
“I’ve got you, I’m here,” your husband murmured, and you scarcely heard him over your own sounds. Toshinori’s fingers maintained their perfect pace as they thrust in and out of your slick cunt, and he was practically making out with your clit, alternating between sucking on it and swirling his tongue around it. When he spoke again, the pitiful, desperate lilt of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.
“Please – please cum for me, honey. I want it – I need it,” the former number one hero begged and pleaded, right against his beloved wife’s throbbing clit.
If you had a little extra sense left, you’d have noticed the way his hips were bucking more wildly into the mattress now.
Then again, he didn’t have enough sense left to notice it either – entirely pussydrunk for his wife.
Voice hoarse, you cried out his name once more, hips bucking wildly against Toshinori’s face as you came. Only this time, you squirted – soaking his pretty face with your juices, and the pitiful, whiny moan he let out was the most incredible sound you’d ever heard. His fingers dug deeper into the soft flesh of your thigh, from the arm he kept wrapped around a leg to hold you somewhat still, and he breathed out your name before his hips stilled.
Toshinori went limp, resting his cheek against your thigh and breathing heavily. The feeling of his warm breath on your bare pussy nearly made you clamp your legs around his head, but the realization of what just happened kept you still.
Slowly, a smile spread across your face. “Baby, did you –?”
“Yes. Hush,” he grumbled, not sure he could bear any potential teasing from you. You felt his face heat up against your thigh, burning with embarrassment.
Opting to take pity on the retiree, your smile remained but you said nothing else. You carefully removed yourself out from under him, and he let you – under the pretense that you were both done. And when you silently turned him over onto his back – subsequently revealing the dark, wet patch on the front of his boxers – his eyes shot open.
“Wha– what are you doing, my love?” Toshinori questioned, but didn’t stop you as you pulled his ruined boxers down and off of him. He sucked in a breath through his teeth when the cold air of the bedroom hit his still-twitching cock, and found his fists balling into the comforter as he watched you climb onto the bed to straddle him.
The way your warm cunt rested atop his leaking, oversensitive length. The way your manicured nails gently scraped down his chest as you smiled down at him like a predator who’d caught her prey. The way everything was too hot, too cold, too much, and not enough – all at once. Fuck, it was all nearly more than Toshinori could handle – and you hadn’t even done anything to him yet.
But above all, what sent him spiraling the most? Every single goddamn time?
It was the way you made him feel wholly and truly desired – in a way he had once feared he’d never experience again, after his injury.
“You’re thinking too much again,” you murmured, and the low tone of your voice had Toshinori’s breathing growing heavier. Before he could form another thought, you reached between your bodies to grasp his still-hard cock then sunk down on it.
The groans that fell from both of you were absolutely sinful. Toshinori’s hands flew to your hips on reflex, fingertips digging in as you set a steady, rhythmic pace. He had half a mind to be embarrassed by the way his thighs were already trembling after just a few minutes of you riding him, but you didn’t give him a chance to dwell on it. Your hips picked up speed, and Toshinori thought he was going to die on the spot when your soft hand gripped his jaw and turned his head to face you.
“Look at me, Toshi.”
Fuck, he hadn’t even noticed that the overwhelming pleasure was causing him to turn his head away, into the pillow. It was as though half of him were trying to get away from the delicious burn of overstimulation, while the other half – the large hands squeezing your hips like it was the only thing keeping him on Earth, the hips weakly bucking up to meet your thrusts – was absolutely thriving in it.
But he did as you bade him – as always. But God, the pretty blue lace and mesh still adorning your body, the way your brow furrowed in pleasure, the fucked-out look on your face despite riding him within an inch of his life – it was about to send him over the edge.
“S-Shit honey, I-I’m gonna – I can’t – I need you,” Toshinori rambled senselessly, barely even aware that he was speaking. The warble in his voice prompted you to take a better look at him, and you noticed tears brimming in his eyes – though, he didn't seem to be aware. Or he just didn't care.
The love you have for that man knows no bounds – but God, did something nasty and feral inside of you want to see him cry.
Careful to maintain the rhythm you'd set with your hips, you leaned down and began kissing along his throat. His fingertips dug into your skin harder, and he whimpered quietly, but it wasn't quite as much of a reaction as you'd been hoping for. But you knew what would get him there.
"You're so strong, baby," you murmured against the sweat-slick skin of his neck, just below his ear. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, although you weren't sure if that was because of the praise or because of the way you intentionally squeezed his twitching cock. "You feel so damn good – always do. You – ngh, fuck – you're perfect. My handsome husband."
A pitiful whimper tore itself from his throat, and the rhythm of his hips meeting yours faltered. You couldn't resist leaning up to look at him, and saw tears flowing more freely from his eyes now – enough that you finally felt sated.
Through the daze of being overwhelmed by your praise, Toshinori realized he barely stood a snowball's chance in hell for holding back his second orgasm. A second realization soon followed: he needed to get you off before that happened.
Albeit slightly frantically, Toshinori still possessed enough sense to reach down and begin rubbing your clit. Despite it being a blatantly desperate attempt to make you cum, doing it juuust how you liked it was muscle memory for your loving, attentive partner.
A choked out gasp of “Fuck, Toshi” fell from your lips as your thighs began to shake, and he felt your syrupy, sopping cunt grip his cock in a chokehold as you came undone around him. Over the ringing in his ears, Toshinori heard himself groan – low, deep, guttural – as he spilled inside you.
Both sets of hips weakly chased that high before slowing to a stop, and two warm arms wrapped around you as you let yourself shakily lay down on his chest. Toshinori stroked your hair and rubbed absentminded circles on your back as both of you caught your breath. Ever reverent, he was the first to speak – pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple as he murmured, “Thank you, my love. You’re perfect.”
The next day, your dear, sweet husband didn’t have the heart to correct his grading choices to Kaminari, who loudly cheered about getting his first ever A on a report.
[ v5.3.26 ] here's a post dedicated to organizing my bulk of writings across all fandoms — reminder: minors dni with fics marked 18+.
( as always, you can find me pilotisms on ao3 )
featuring: my hero academia, demon slayer, jujutsu kaisen, kaiju no. 8, modern warfare, halo: tv series, love and deepspace, one piece...
BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA:
— ALL MIGHT ; toshinori yagi
( 18+ ) bruised ego | part one ; f!reader / all might
young!might. you & toshinori have a great working relationship. all might is like a mentor. a great guy. a real, stand-up dude. a hero who inevitably has to help you deal with the side-effects of being hit with a love quirk.
( 18+ ) bruised ego | part two ; f!reader / all might
young!might. he should have waited for you. but no, toshinori felt like he had something to prove. now, roles are reversed and he needs your help.
( 18+ ) all smite + tears ; f!reader / all smite
part of the #birbs smut blurbs
( 18+ ) toshinori + voice ; f!reader / toshinori
part of the #birbs smut blurbs
( 18+ ) toshinori + breeding kink ; f!reader / toshinori
part of the #birbs smut blurbs
sex ed ; nurse!reader / vice principal yagi
"please tell me they paid you well for these thinly veiled metaphors about finding the clitoris."
( 18+ ) guilty jerk off ; reader / toshinori
part of the #birbs smut blurbs
#bruised ego | the tag ;
includes headcanons, drabbles, and asks pertaining to the bruised ego series
— HAWKS ; keigo takami
meet & greet | part one ; f!reader / hawks
you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two.
( WIP ) meet & greet | part two ; f!reader / hawks
coming soon.
( 18+ ) keigo + begging ; f!reader / hawks
part of the #birbs smut blurbs
#meet & greet | the tag ;
includes headcanons, drabbles, and asks pertaining to the meet & greet series
— DABI ; touya todoroki
burner cell | part one ; f!reader / dabi
you end up at the league's bar, unbeknownst to you or your drunk friends. you just want to go home. set in the early days of bnha.
burner cell | part two ; f!reader / dabi
after a week of silence, you finally text dabi.
burner cell | part three ; f!reader / dabi
a night out with dabi.
#burner cell | the tag ;
includes headcanons, drabbles, and asks pertaining to the burner cell series
— SHOTO ; shoto todoroki
can't we be seventeen? ; f!reader / shoto
he's loved you since he was seveteen.
— RED RIOT ; eijiro kirishima
noise complaint ; f!reader / red riot
red riot feels really bad about absolutely wrecking the shit out of your treasured plants, or eijiro kirishima falls in love at first sight.
— SUNEATER ; tamaki amajiki
( 18+ ) tamaki + tentacle ; f!reader / suneater
part of #birbs smut blurbs
— ENDEAVOR | enji todoroki
( 18+ ) endeavor + whipped ; f!reader / enji
part of #birbs smut blurbs
— ERASURE HEAD ; shouta aizawa
( 18+ ) aizawa + eating ; f!reader / shouta
part of #birbs smut blurbs
( 18+ ) shota in love ; imagine
what he is like in love
— MINDJACK ; hitoshi shinso
( 18+ ) mindjack + quirk ; f!reader / hitoshi
part of #birbs smut blurbs
KIMETSU NO YAIBA:
— KYOJURO RENGOKU
the fool ; f!hashira reader / rengoku
all you wanted was to pass out in your room, but no. here you are, dragging yourself (quite literally) up the mountainside to the ubuyashiki mansion's onsen.
— SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA
moonbeam ; f!hashira reader / sanemi
you & shinazugawa have a score to settle, but you never did agree on the stakes, did you?
— TENGEN UZUI
( 18 + ) fingering and sound ; f!reader / tengen
part of #birbs smut blurbs
— YORIICHI TSUGIKUNI
( 18 + ) ginger and miso ; f!reader / yoriichi
part of #birbs smut blurbs
JUJUSTSU KAISEN:
— SUGURU GETO
the fall ; f!reader / geto
it's loud. geto can silence it. set post-hidden inventory.
— SATORU GOJO
be okay ; f!reader / gojo
you've been promised to one another since the very beginning.
be okay | part two ; f!reader / gojo
the engagement is on. you move to tokyo.
( 18+ ) gojo + lineage ; f!reader / gojo
part of #birbs smut blurbs
— NANAMI KENTO
( 18+ ) nanami + tie ; f!reader / nanami
part of #birbs smut blurbs
( 18+ ) picture your face / whisper your name ; f!reader / nanami
Nanami Kento has had feelings for you since your joined the sales team as his junior. You've felt the same. He's resigning. The feelings aren't.
KAIJU NO. 8:
— KAFKA HIBINO
"you look ridiculous in that outfit." ; f!reader / kafka
prompt request; angsty
—SOSHIRO HOSHINA
( 18 + ) agreed ; f!reader / hoshina
part of #birbs smut blurbs
MODERN WARFARE:
— SIMON RILEY ; ghost
handler's manual | part one ; f!reader / ghost
moth is the 141's intel specialist. ghost is the 141's resident freak.
handler's manual | part two ; f!reader / ghost
moth & johnny spar. ghost is in a bad mood. moth's theories grow.
handler's manual | part three ; f!reader / ghost
a new year's eve honeypot brings a realization.
handler's manual | part four ; f!reader / ghost
you can't sleep. simon can't either.
handler's manual | part five ; f!reader / ghost
kortac makes an appearance. you owe a certain colonel an apology. ghost ain't about it.
handler's manual | part six ; f!reader / ghost
no graves + mess hall bolognese + laundry day ≠ good ghost mood?
blood & body ; f!reader / ghost
set during mission: alone. you won’t die today.
— JOHNNY MACTAVISH ; soap
liar's den ; f!reader / soap
drinks and pining shared.
HALO: TV SERIES:
— JOHN-117; master chief
pedestal, altar, cross ; f!reader / john-117
drabble series set post-season 1, slight canon-divergence, game & book references. john severs that hormonal pellet between his vertebrae and things change between him and you, his brokkr technician.
LOVE AND DEEPSPACE:
— CALEB ;
( +18 ) insubordinate ; f!reader / colonel caleb
court martial? more like squirt martial. (i'm sorry.) (i'm not)
ONE PIECE:
— ZORO ;
swan dive ; f!reader / zoro
port d'beau proves to be anything but an easy job. you almost drown, zoro saves you. [set post-arlong, pre-alabasta]
drunk with zoro ; f!reader / zoro
headcanons with being drunk with zoro
summary: you & toshinori have a great working relationship. all might is like a mentor. a great guy. a real, stand-up dude. a hero who inevitably has to help you deal with the side-effects of being hit with a love quirk.
pairing: younger!toshinori yagi / f!reader ; hero name: derecho
word count: 3.6k of pure smut
tags: afab!reader, fingering, oral (female receiving), piv, denying feelings, toshi being a genuine lover-boy, someone has a praise kink, surprise it's me, minors dni
a/n: i love young dumb full of cum late-twenties all might
the tag | next →
"You don't look well—"
"Don't."
You could fry him right now. You could totally, absolutely, blast him with ten thousand volts and call it a night — but you can't, really, because he's fucking All Might. He's All Might and even worse, he's Toshinori Yagi.
He's... kind. And gentle. And patient. And levelheaded... If not the single reason your entire life fell apart seven years ago.
(That is not true. You know it. You and your therapist have worked through that stuck point — but, it sounds a hell of a lot better than explaining the reason you ended up in prison was by your own actions, not being caught by All Might.)
You're reformed.
Blah, blah, blah, you're the Villain Rehabilitation Program's star graduate.
They loved using your imagery — the ones of you before you got clean off those Quirk enhancers and put on the straight and narrow —in their PR packages. They love that picture of you — the ones with hands behind your back — cuffed by All Might as you're effectively muzzled by the local law enforcement.
Your lip catches in a snarl.
Don't think about that.
Don't think about his hands on your wrists. Don't think about the way his boot nudged your leg apart for the frisk — don't think about the way he threatened you, so low and so dangerous, not to move.
Don't think about how All Might is a bastard, and the media just doesn't know it.
He's cheeky. Sly. When he's out of the limelight, that eerie #1 smile drops and he's almost normal — if not nearly five hundred and sixty pounds of muscle.
Like now, on this rooftop, he's more like Toshinori Yagi. Your impromptu mentor in all things heroic. After all, the Hero Commission thought it would be great for the program's image if All Might, the man who arrested you countless times, was the one to integrate you into a more heroic notion. Never mind the dozens of times you went head-to-head with the man, never mind the handful of times you almost won.
"Derecho, I'm serious," comes his voice; it's softer, almost like he's in his smaller form — the one you always find yourself being partial to, "You look feverish..."
Static snaps across the air and Toshinori takes it — the way it bites at the skin of his hands is nothing. It's a warning shot. Don't come any closer.
"I was hit with that guy's quirk," you mutter as you try to square your breathing, "I'm fine, I just... Need some time—"
Son of a bitch.
You've always been a hard one to shake — and even now, as you climb well into the Top Ten ranks, he's never seen you this out of it. You've taken a crowbar to the ribs and recovered better than being hit by some petty criminal's love quirk.
Toshinori curses under his breath as he winces at the desperation cracking in your voice.
"If you need to take the night—"
"Yes."
He was slotted to patrol this prefecture with you for another two hours — but seeing the way your whole body looks like it could collapse is... a bit concerning. Toshinori nods, exhales, and waves you on.
"Should I call Recovery Girl?"
Your boot toes the ledge. You need out of this outfit. It's too tight. You're too hot. Your skin feels like it's on fire and the embarrassing ache between your legs is just getting worse with every low, timbred syllable out of his mouth. Don't think about his mouth.
"I'm fine."
You're not fine.
Even when you're back in your apartment, trying desperately to shower off the skin-crawling, mouth-watering heat of desire, you can't even come close to relating to the word 'fine'. You're a mess. You try to stand under the heat of the water for a while, to burn the need off your skin, but that doesn't work.
You're so not fine.
You can't stop thinking about Toshinori. Must be something to do with the fact he was closest when you were struck with the quirk. Yea. Totally that.
You have to be fine. You need to be fine. This is just a stupid love quirk that will wear off within a few hours.
Well, a few hours come and go, and it's just getting worse.
Come on, you are torturing yourself with the evening news, just breathe it out.
Because you're a hero, and you were a villain. You know what it's like to get hit with disconcerting quirks like this in the heat of a battle. With just a little time, it goes away. Right?
Right...?
"I AM CALLING! I AM CALLING!"
Your phone vibrates on the coffee table. Your pupils, full-blown and big, swivel to the photo that ignites the dark of the room. It's a photo of Toshinori — he's in his smaller form, posed beside you in a ramen booth close to U.A.'s campus. He was hellbent on giving you a tour of his old high school.
You always loved how cute he looked in that picture.
Fuck.
You snatch the phone up and answer the call.
"What?" it comes out snappier than it needs to be.
"Are you doin' alright?" his voice has lost its persona'd gusto. You can tell, just by the soft way he speaks, he's no longer in uniform or on patrol. All Might has clocked out for the evening, and Toshinori Yagi is in the building, "I haven't heard a peep from you all night, zippy."
Something in your brain goes blank at the nickname. You usually hate it. Usually, you'd bite at him for it. You don't even realize you're white knuckle gripping the edge of the couch as he continues to speak.
"Y'know, it's okay — I've been hit by love quirks plenty of times before," he goes on; you can hear him juggle the phone to his other ear, "They aren't fun. I'm sorry you're—"
"Come over."
Toshinori almost drops the can of soda in his hands. In the middle of the convenience store aisle, he feels his entire body lurch.
"What?"
Your head is back against the couch, your hands covering your face in sheer embarrassment. You grit it out again. "I said come over."
"Derecho—"
"I've tried everything," you mutter defeatedly into the phone; you can't even pull your hand from your face, you're so embarrassed you're even telling him this but you need help, "Fingers, toys, even the Hitachi on the highest speed, Toshinori, and I can't—"
Jesus fucking Christ.
This is bad.
This is... not you. So not you. This is... fuck, okay, right. He's All Might. He helps people. And you're important to him. You're his enemy turned pseudo-protégé turned colleague turned woman-he's-been-ignoring-his-feelings-for-the-last-seven-months. You're Derecho. Number Eight Hero in Japan, his friend. His...
"Give me ten."
And he hangs up.
Two boxes of XL condoms earn him a severely skeptical look from the cashier, but it's fine. Toshinori has bigger things to worry about — like the fact he has no idea what this is going to do to your working relationship, but it's fine. You need help. He knows what this is like — and he would feel awful if he left you to deal with it alone.
Fingers, toys, even the Hitachi—
Maybe he'll die, actually. Maybe he'll just throw himself from the nearest roof.
The mental image of you, alone in your apartment, hands between your thighs as you try desperately to shake the painful ache in your core has him walking a bit faster — your apartment is three blocks over.
He makes good time.
His knuckles don't even touch the door before you're yanking it open — and Christ, you're a sight to see.
Wet hair, wild eyes, and a permanent heavy breath. The oversized t-shirt clinging to your shoulders is definitely going to be a topic of discussion for a later date. It's All Might merch. His fucking merch.
When did you even buy that—?
"I'm sorry," you blurt out, looking pained.
Toshinori's eyes hold your own. Then:
"I've always been a sucker for a damsel in distress."
He's a bastard. A serious bastard. A bastard who you're dragging in by the neck of his t-shirt — a bastard who doesn't complain in the slightest when your mouth is on his in a flash. With ease, he slams the front door shut with his boot and quickly allows you to guide him through your apartment. Your mouth is still latched to his, your hands digging into his shoulders as his hands chase your waist.
You recognize in the heated haze of the kiss there's a grocery bag in his hand. It knocks against your hip as you accidentally back into the edge of the couch — your hands fumbling for some purchase in the dark living room.
You pull your mouth from his just long enough to breathe out another apology.
"Don't. We'll talk about it after," he says, leaning down over you as you scramble back against the leather couch cushions, "What do you need?"
"What do you think?" you hiss as his body presses against yours; he's still in his boots, still in his shirt and jeans. He's... too clothed. Your body couldn't handle anything except the less-than-flattering pair of cotton underwear and the biggest t-shirt you owned.
You swear he's smirking in the dark.
"Mouth? Hands?" he presses, his touch cradling your face as he continues to navigate your steady, bruisingly needy kisses, "Use your words."
"Anything—"
Your voice is a rasp, your hands scaling his back as he nudges your knees apart with his thigh and slots his hips against yours. Even in this smaller form, he's got the tactical advantage — not being near death from a fever so high you can hardly think anymore.
"I need to know," he says as he leans back, his voice dipping lower as his palms brush the skin of your stomach. His fingertips hesitate at the edge of your waistband, and you whine.
"Anything, Toshinori, stop jerking me around!"
...What a brat. He almost laughs. But, then he remembers the one time he was left like this — and how desperate he was even after six hours of exhaustive attempts at self-pleasure.
"Be nice," he chirps as his fingers slip beneath your underwear; his satisfaction builds when you fist the back of his shirt and gasp — his fingers grace the slick, wet folds of your core with ease. It's a tender movement, one that assesses just how pliable you are at this moment.
And then, two of his fingers are pushing into you down to his knuckles.
The babbled thank you bursts from your chest — and Toshi actually laughs at how fast you cling to his chest. He didn't anticipate his night going like this. Not with you, wild-eyed and desperate, pulling him into a kiss that's so bruising he thinks his lip splits.
Hands. Hands. Hands. His hands. One hand is between your folds, working you open, and the other is pressing up your curves and settling along your breast. You can't even think straight. The fact Toshinori is so slick, so eager, so good at whatever he's doing, is making the coil in your abdomen go white hot.
"Fuck—" you strangle out, your lips parted in a gasp as he wets his own lips and watches your face in the dark, "G-God, okay, th-that's good—"
"Better than your own?" he asks, genuinely worried this isn't the progress you need to shake off the quirk's effects.
"So much better," you wail, coincidentally fueling his ego in a way he never knew he needed. Because, ha, well — who knew Derecho, little miss spiteful and mysterious, just needed a little bit of him.
"Is it enough?" he asks against her jaw, his forearm flexing as he works the pace up, his palm rubbing gently against your clit. It's an attempt at a coordinated pace, and it seems to be working from the way you're writhing beneath him.
"I... I still — I can't — I'm so..." you look like you could cry out of sheer frustration, and Toshi suddenly feels a pang of guilt. He can only imagine how you've done this very thing over and over tonight, trying to just cum. Your voice cracks and you whimper, "I can't. I'm so close, but I just can't—"
"Okay," he breathes, his mind swirling with strategic planning, "So mouth."
"Mouth?" you choke, suddenly looking alarmed, but Toshi doesn't seem to care about the added snare of intimacy that comes with him slipping to his knees before the couch.
Oh my god, he's on his knees. He's on his knees and he's grappling with your underwear, hauling it down the tops of your thighs before throwing it over his shoulder in a very Toshinori manner.
You've got All Might on his knees.
It suddenly hits you as he sits up on his knees and nudges your legs apart. He's a man on a mission — dedicated entirely to the task at hand.
Making you orgasm.
You wonder how many people have fantasized about this very thing — granted, he's not costume. Thank god. You can't even imagine what the conversation with his dry-cleaning team would look like.
Toshi's voice knocks you back to reality. "Is this okay?"
He sounds concerned.
Meanwhile, you could kill him. If he doesn't put his mouth on you right now—
Noted. He sees the spark of annoyance, dumb question, and hauls your leg over his shoulder as he delves in.
Ohmygod.
This is better — the coil is wound tighter, and a little bit closer to snapping, the second his tongue presses flat against your glistening slick. It's even better when he hums, his voice mumbles against your sex as his hands press your thighs to open a bit farther.
"Keep 'em open."
"Don't talk," you heave between pants, "With your mouth full."
It's like the two of you are at work — this banter. But, his laugh vibrates your core and you moan. That doesn't happen at work. That doesn't happen, ever. A greedy part of you sure as hell hopes this happens again, because holy hell, he's good at this. Methodical. Strategic. Thorough.
His pace doesn't change, the pressure doesn't lessen. The blonde streaks of his fringe tickle the inside of your thighs as he continues his work — and you swear you almost cum when he slips a look up at you in the dark.
His eyes are so blue that you feel like you're suddenly lost at sea.
Then, there are two crooked fingers back inside of you.
You and he are going to have to have a long talk about where he learned all this — because it's so good you genuinely can't do anything but reach out and grip his hair in a panic. You gasp, your whole body convulses, and you almost... almost cum. Almost.
It's Toshi's turn to moan.
You're suddenly so oversensitive you swear your heart might stop.
You're writhing away from him, squirming away, and Toshi's lips are parted as his breath fans across your core.
"Cock," you're suddenly rambling, "N-Need — I need—"
"Right," he stutters, realizing this is good — you're almost there, he can tell. You're so close he can feel it in the air. The static electricity burning off your quirk leaves the room feeling tingly.
He's wobbling back upright, cursing as he practically falls around the couch in the dark, and palms at the grocery bag he discarded on the floor. He's not graceful about the way he tears about the small box, or about the way he drops the foil square between his teeth as he leans back to work off his belt.
"Bedroom?" he asks through gritted teeth.
You're nodding, practically falling over yourself to lead the way. Boots, jeans, belt, shirt — all of it is left scattered along the way, and your bare body hits the sheets after an easy shove from Toshinori. Of course, the boxers clinging to his strong thighs are his brand. The All Might logo is almost comical stretched across his hardness.
You have the wherewithal to roll your eyes as he tears open the condom with his teeth.
"What?" he shirks, looking down.
"Seriously?" you grit, legs pressed together tightly to try and stop the empty ache between your legs. It hurts. It hurts so much worse when his mouth and hands aren't on you.
"Don't even start," he rumbles as he rolls down the waistband and his cock springs free — he's quick to roll the condom down the thick length of it and lift a finger to wag in your face, "You answered the door in my merch—"
"Setting the mood," you offer as he steps out of his underwear.
Toshinori then, unceremoniously, drags your hips to the edge of the bed. You almost shriek. It's a bit rough — a bit sudden — but you can't complain when the head of his cock is suddenly being guided through your folds teasingly. Up and down. Over the swollen bud of your clit, across your wet opening. You prop yourself up on your elbows, lips parted, as you try and nudge your hips closer.
His large hand presses your hips down to the mattress.
"Toshinori—"
"You sure this is okay?" he mutters, his pupils full-blown as he watches himself slip through your wetness, "I— If it's too much—"
"If you don't fuck me right now—"
"Right."
And he sinks in.
Ha.
Yea.
This is good.
You're so glad you didn't fry him earlier. You're so glad. You're so... oh, this is so so so ridiculously good you might die. You might die, because he's snapping his hips into yours and you can see the ripple of his muscles, even in this smaller form.
His breath is ragged, his voice low and easy.
"You're doing a great job," he says; your core tightens at the sudden praise, "Y-You're doin' really... good—"
Your chest bounces with each thrust, your legs locked around his hips, your whimpers increasing in frequency with every single in and out of his cock. The feeling is better than any sex you've ever had — you've never been so aware of every inch.
And then, he's knocking his forehead against yours, leaning over you — you're caged against the mattress, and one arm of his is holding your leg up around his waist. The angle change is minute but it's good. Everything is Toshinori so suddenly, everything is so blue eyes and a bright smile.
It's thorough, a word you're slowly beginning to realize describes Toshinori to a T. There's not a single falter in his pace, not a single thrust that doesn't wind the white-hot orgasm tighter and tighter in your belly. It's worse when he holds your face, though, worse when he keeps fucking you so well while chattering on about how good you are, how strong you are, how beautiful you are—
Your composure snaps when he rumbles out:
"I know you can cum for me like a good girl."
The coil snaps.
Finally.
After four hours of torture. After four hours of trying. Finally, you cum — and hard. The sort that robs you of your vision and hearing, the sort that has your whole body arching off the bed. The kind you haven't had in a long time. The kind that, of course, Toshinori Yagi would be the man to provide.
"Fuckfuckfuck—" you babble, gasping, still gripped by the force of the orgasm as his pace quickens.
He's laughing — laughing, and then you're clamping down on him so hard he sees stars. It's all fun and games until he can't stop himself, he can't slow down, he can't breathe, and he's rocked by an orgasm that makes his knees give out. He's wild-eyed, panting, snapping his hips into yours as you whimper and gasp and grip his shoulders so tight he may have bruises.
Toshinori swallows, then gasps to catch his breath, and then pushes himself up to give you a little room to breathe. His cock is still twitching inside of you.
Your eyes are closed, and your breath is fast. Your hair is spilled across the sheet — and you look content. Satiated. Peaceful. He's rarely ever seen you so tranquil.
Blindly, and lazily, you reach up to touch his cheek.
At first, he thinks it's going to be tender. Intimate. Romantic.
Then, you roughly pat it twice.
"We're never gonna talk about this again."
Right.
Because he's All Might. And you're Derecho. You're colleagues. Friends. This was just... him helping you. Like when a friend has a cold. You bring them soup. He... brought you... an orgasm. Just like soup.
Definitely.
...Right.
"It was just, uh," he breathes, pulling out and cursing at the embarrassingly apparent load in the condom; not like he'd dreamed about this very thing for nights on end, no siree bob, "You needed help. I offered."
That is not what happened. Not even close. But, he's going to tell himself that.
Not like you totally won't think about this every single night ever for the rest of time. Definitely like you won't dream about the way he called you a good girl. Ha. Yea, right. Psh. You're fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.
After all, it's just Toshinori.
He's... kind. And gentle. And patient. And levelheaded... If not the single reason your entire life fell apart seven years ago.
And definitely not the reason your life is falling apart right now as you realize, fuck, you're definitely in love with him, aren't you?
summary: you & toshinori have a great working relationship. all might is like a mentor. a great guy. a real, stand-up dude. a hero who inevitably has to help you deal with the side-effects of being hit with a love quirk.
pairing: younger!toshinori yagi / f!reader ; hero name: derecho
word count: 3.6k of pure smut
tags: afab!reader, fingering, oral (female receiving), piv, denying feelings, toshi being a genuine lover-boy, someone has a praise kink, surprise it's me, minors dni
a/n: i love young dumb full of cum late-twenties all might
the tag | next →
"You don't look well—"
"Don't."
You could fry him right now. You could totally, absolutely, blast him with ten thousand volts and call it a night — but you can't, really, because he's fucking All Might. He's All Might and even worse, he's Toshinori Yagi.
He's... kind. And gentle. And patient. And levelheaded... If not the single reason your entire life fell apart seven years ago.
(That is not true. You know it. You and your therapist have worked through that stuck point — but, it sounds a hell of a lot better than explaining the reason you ended up in prison was by your own actions, not being caught by All Might.)
You're reformed.
Blah, blah, blah, you're the Villain Rehabilitation Program's star graduate.
They loved using your imagery — the ones of you before you got clean off those Quirk enhancers and put on the straight and narrow —in their PR packages. They love that picture of you — the ones with hands behind your back — cuffed by All Might as you're effectively muzzled by the local law enforcement.
Your lip catches in a snarl.
Don't think about that.
Don't think about his hands on your wrists. Don't think about the way his boot nudged your leg apart for the frisk — don't think about the way he threatened you, so low and so dangerous, not to move.
Don't think about how All Might is a bastard, and the media just doesn't know it.
He's cheeky. Sly. When he's out of the limelight, that eerie #1 smile drops and he's almost normal — if not nearly five hundred and sixty pounds of muscle.
Like now, on this rooftop, he's more like Toshinori Yagi. Your impromptu mentor in all things heroic. After all, the Hero Commission thought it would be great for the program's image if All Might, the man who arrested you countless times, was the one to integrate you into a more heroic notion. Never mind the dozens of times you went head-to-head with the man, never mind the handful of times you almost won.
"Derecho, I'm serious," comes his voice; it's softer, almost like he's in his smaller form — the one you always find yourself being partial to, "You look feverish..."
Static snaps across the air and Toshinori takes it — the way it bites at the skin of his hands is nothing. It's a warning shot. Don't come any closer.
"I was hit with that guy's quirk," you mutter as you try to square your breathing, "I'm fine, I just... Need some time—"
Son of a bitch.
You've always been a hard one to shake — and even now, as you climb well into the Top Ten ranks, he's never seen you this out of it. You've taken a crowbar to the ribs and recovered better than being hit by some petty criminal's love quirk.
Toshinori curses under his breath as he winces at the desperation cracking in your voice.
"If you need to take the night—"
"Yes."
He was slotted to patrol this prefecture with you for another two hours — but seeing the way your whole body looks like it could collapse is... a bit concerning. Toshinori nods, exhales, and waves you on.
"Should I call Recovery Girl?"
Your boot toes the ledge. You need out of this outfit. It's too tight. You're too hot. Your skin feels like it's on fire and the embarrassing ache between your legs is just getting worse with every low, timbred syllable out of his mouth. Don't think about his mouth.
"I'm fine."
You're not fine.
Even when you're back in your apartment, trying desperately to shower off the skin-crawling, mouth-watering heat of desire, you can't even come close to relating to the word 'fine'. You're a mess. You try to stand under the heat of the water for a while, to burn the need off your skin, but that doesn't work.
You're so not fine.
You can't stop thinking about Toshinori. Must be something to do with the fact he was closest when you were struck with the quirk. Yea. Totally that.
You have to be fine. You need to be fine. This is just a stupid love quirk that will wear off within a few hours.
Well, a few hours come and go, and it's just getting worse.
Come on, you are torturing yourself with the evening news, just breathe it out.
Because you're a hero, and you were a villain. You know what it's like to get hit with disconcerting quirks like this in the heat of a battle. With just a little time, it goes away. Right?
Right...?
"I AM CALLING! I AM CALLING!"
Your phone vibrates on the coffee table. Your pupils, full-blown and big, swivel to the photo that ignites the dark of the room. It's a photo of Toshinori — he's in his smaller form, posed beside you in a ramen booth close to U.A.'s campus. He was hellbent on giving you a tour of his old high school.
You always loved how cute he looked in that picture.
Fuck.
You snatch the phone up and answer the call.
"What?" it comes out snappier than it needs to be.
"Are you doin' alright?" his voice has lost its persona'd gusto. You can tell, just by the soft way he speaks, he's no longer in uniform or on patrol. All Might has clocked out for the evening, and Toshinori Yagi is in the building, "I haven't heard a peep from you all night, zippy."
Something in your brain goes blank at the nickname. You usually hate it. Usually, you'd bite at him for it. You don't even realize you're white knuckle gripping the edge of the couch as he continues to speak.
"Y'know, it's okay — I've been hit by love quirks plenty of times before," he goes on; you can hear him juggle the phone to his other ear, "They aren't fun. I'm sorry you're—"
"Come over."
Toshinori almost drops the can of soda in his hands. In the middle of the convenience store aisle, he feels his entire body lurch.
"What?"
Your head is back against the couch, your hands covering your face in sheer embarrassment. You grit it out again. "I said come over."
"Derecho—"
"I've tried everything," you mutter defeatedly into the phone; you can't even pull your hand from your face, you're so embarrassed you're even telling him this but you need help, "Fingers, toys, even the Hitachi on the highest speed, Toshinori, and I can't—"
Jesus fucking Christ.
This is bad.
This is... not you. So not you. This is... fuck, okay, right. He's All Might. He helps people. And you're important to him. You're his enemy turned pseudo-protégé turned colleague turned woman-he's-been-ignoring-his-feelings-for-the-last-seven-months. You're Derecho. Number Eight Hero in Japan, his friend. His...
"Give me ten."
And he hangs up.
Two boxes of XL condoms earn him a severely skeptical look from the cashier, but it's fine. Toshinori has bigger things to worry about — like the fact he has no idea what this is going to do to your working relationship, but it's fine. You need help. He knows what this is like — and he would feel awful if he left you to deal with it alone.
Fingers, toys, even the Hitachi—
Maybe he'll die, actually. Maybe he'll just throw himself from the nearest roof.
The mental image of you, alone in your apartment, hands between your thighs as you try desperately to shake the painful ache in your core has him walking a bit faster — your apartment is three blocks over.
He makes good time.
His knuckles don't even touch the door before you're yanking it open — and Christ, you're a sight to see.
Wet hair, wild eyes, and a permanent heavy breath. The oversized t-shirt clinging to your shoulders is definitely going to be a topic of discussion for a later date. It's All Might merch. His fucking merch.
When did you even buy that—?
"I'm sorry," you blurt out, looking pained.
Toshinori's eyes hold your own. Then:
"I've always been a sucker for a damsel in distress."
He's a bastard. A serious bastard. A bastard who you're dragging in by the neck of his t-shirt — a bastard who doesn't complain in the slightest when your mouth is on his in a flash. With ease, he slams the front door shut with his boot and quickly allows you to guide him through your apartment. Your mouth is still latched to his, your hands digging into his shoulders as his hands chase your waist.
You recognize in the heated haze of the kiss there's a grocery bag in his hand. It knocks against your hip as you accidentally back into the edge of the couch — your hands fumbling for some purchase in the dark living room.
You pull your mouth from his just long enough to breathe out another apology.
"Don't. We'll talk about it after," he says, leaning down over you as you scramble back against the leather couch cushions, "What do you need?"
"What do you think?" you hiss as his body presses against yours; he's still in his boots, still in his shirt and jeans. He's... too clothed. Your body couldn't handle anything except the less-than-flattering pair of cotton underwear and the biggest t-shirt you owned.
You swear he's smirking in the dark.
"Mouth? Hands?" he presses, his touch cradling your face as he continues to navigate your steady, bruisingly needy kisses, "Use your words."
"Anything—"
Your voice is a rasp, your hands scaling his back as he nudges your knees apart with his thigh and slots his hips against yours. Even in this smaller form, he's got the tactical advantage — not being near death from a fever so high you can hardly think anymore.
"I need to know," he says as he leans back, his voice dipping lower as his palms brush the skin of your stomach. His fingertips hesitate at the edge of your waistband, and you whine.
"Anything, Toshinori, stop jerking me around!"
...What a brat. He almost laughs. But, then he remembers the one time he was left like this — and how desperate he was even after six hours of exhaustive attempts at self-pleasure.
"Be nice," he chirps as his fingers slip beneath your underwear; his satisfaction builds when you fist the back of his shirt and gasp — his fingers grace the slick, wet folds of your core with ease. It's a tender movement, one that assesses just how pliable you are at this moment.
And then, two of his fingers are pushing into you down to his knuckles.
The babbled thank you bursts from your chest — and Toshi actually laughs at how fast you cling to his chest. He didn't anticipate his night going like this. Not with you, wild-eyed and desperate, pulling him into a kiss that's so bruising he thinks his lip splits.
Hands. Hands. Hands. His hands. One hand is between your folds, working you open, and the other is pressing up your curves and settling along your breast. You can't even think straight. The fact Toshinori is so slick, so eager, so good at whatever he's doing, is making the coil in your abdomen go white hot.
"Fuck—" you strangle out, your lips parted in a gasp as he wets his own lips and watches your face in the dark, "G-God, okay, th-that's good—"
"Better than your own?" he asks, genuinely worried this isn't the progress you need to shake off the quirk's effects.
"So much better," you wail, coincidentally fueling his ego in a way he never knew he needed. Because, ha, well — who knew Derecho, little miss spiteful and mysterious, just needed a little bit of him.
"Is it enough?" he asks against her jaw, his forearm flexing as he works the pace up, his palm rubbing gently against your clit. It's an attempt at a coordinated pace, and it seems to be working from the way you're writhing beneath him.
"I... I still — I can't — I'm so..." you look like you could cry out of sheer frustration, and Toshi suddenly feels a pang of guilt. He can only imagine how you've done this very thing over and over tonight, trying to just cum. Your voice cracks and you whimper, "I can't. I'm so close, but I just can't—"
"Okay," he breathes, his mind swirling with strategic planning, "So mouth."
"Mouth?" you choke, suddenly looking alarmed, but Toshi doesn't seem to care about the added snare of intimacy that comes with him slipping to his knees before the couch.
Oh my god, he's on his knees. He's on his knees and he's grappling with your underwear, hauling it down the tops of your thighs before throwing it over his shoulder in a very Toshinori manner.
You've got All Might on his knees.
It suddenly hits you as he sits up on his knees and nudges your legs apart. He's a man on a mission — dedicated entirely to the task at hand.
Making you orgasm.
You wonder how many people have fantasized about this very thing — granted, he's not costume. Thank god. You can't even imagine what the conversation with his dry-cleaning team would look like.
Toshi's voice knocks you back to reality. "Is this okay?"
He sounds concerned.
Meanwhile, you could kill him. If he doesn't put his mouth on you right now—
Noted. He sees the spark of annoyance, dumb question, and hauls your leg over his shoulder as he delves in.
Ohmygod.
This is better — the coil is wound tighter, and a little bit closer to snapping, the second his tongue presses flat against your glistening slick. It's even better when he hums, his voice mumbles against your sex as his hands press your thighs to open a bit farther.
"Keep 'em open."
"Don't talk," you heave between pants, "With your mouth full."
It's like the two of you are at work — this banter. But, his laugh vibrates your core and you moan. That doesn't happen at work. That doesn't happen, ever. A greedy part of you sure as hell hopes this happens again, because holy hell, he's good at this. Methodical. Strategic. Thorough.
His pace doesn't change, the pressure doesn't lessen. The blonde streaks of his fringe tickle the inside of your thighs as he continues his work — and you swear you almost cum when he slips a look up at you in the dark.
His eyes are so blue that you feel like you're suddenly lost at sea.
Then, there are two crooked fingers back inside of you.
You and he are going to have to have a long talk about where he learned all this — because it's so good you genuinely can't do anything but reach out and grip his hair in a panic. You gasp, your whole body convulses, and you almost... almost cum. Almost.
It's Toshi's turn to moan.
You're suddenly so oversensitive you swear your heart might stop.
You're writhing away from him, squirming away, and Toshi's lips are parted as his breath fans across your core.
"Cock," you're suddenly rambling, "N-Need — I need—"
"Right," he stutters, realizing this is good — you're almost there, he can tell. You're so close he can feel it in the air. The static electricity burning off your quirk leaves the room feeling tingly.
He's wobbling back upright, cursing as he practically falls around the couch in the dark, and palms at the grocery bag he discarded on the floor. He's not graceful about the way he tears about the small box, or about the way he drops the foil square between his teeth as he leans back to work off his belt.
"Bedroom?" he asks through gritted teeth.
You're nodding, practically falling over yourself to lead the way. Boots, jeans, belt, shirt — all of it is left scattered along the way, and your bare body hits the sheets after an easy shove from Toshinori. Of course, the boxers clinging to his strong thighs are his brand. The All Might logo is almost comical stretched across his hardness.
You have the wherewithal to roll your eyes as he tears open the condom with his teeth.
"What?" he shirks, looking down.
"Seriously?" you grit, legs pressed together tightly to try and stop the empty ache between your legs. It hurts. It hurts so much worse when his mouth and hands aren't on you.
"Don't even start," he rumbles as he rolls down the waistband and his cock springs free — he's quick to roll the condom down the thick length of it and lift a finger to wag in your face, "You answered the door in my merch—"
"Setting the mood," you offer as he steps out of his underwear.
Toshinori then, unceremoniously, drags your hips to the edge of the bed. You almost shriek. It's a bit rough — a bit sudden — but you can't complain when the head of his cock is suddenly being guided through your folds teasingly. Up and down. Over the swollen bud of your clit, across your wet opening. You prop yourself up on your elbows, lips parted, as you try and nudge your hips closer.
His large hand presses your hips down to the mattress.
"Toshinori—"
"You sure this is okay?" he mutters, his pupils full-blown as he watches himself slip through your wetness, "I— If it's too much—"
"If you don't fuck me right now—"
"Right."
And he sinks in.
Ha.
Yea.
This is good.
You're so glad you didn't fry him earlier. You're so glad. You're so... oh, this is so so so ridiculously good you might die. You might die, because he's snapping his hips into yours and you can see the ripple of his muscles, even in this smaller form.
His breath is ragged, his voice low and easy.
"You're doing a great job," he says; your core tightens at the sudden praise, "Y-You're doin' really... good—"
Your chest bounces with each thrust, your legs locked around his hips, your whimpers increasing in frequency with every single in and out of his cock. The feeling is better than any sex you've ever had — you've never been so aware of every inch.
And then, he's knocking his forehead against yours, leaning over you — you're caged against the mattress, and one arm of his is holding your leg up around his waist. The angle change is minute but it's good. Everything is Toshinori so suddenly, everything is so blue eyes and a bright smile.
It's thorough, a word you're slowly beginning to realize describes Toshinori to a T. There's not a single falter in his pace, not a single thrust that doesn't wind the white-hot orgasm tighter and tighter in your belly. It's worse when he holds your face, though, worse when he keeps fucking you so well while chattering on about how good you are, how strong you are, how beautiful you are—
Your composure snaps when he rumbles out:
"I know you can cum for me like a good girl."
The coil snaps.
Finally.
After four hours of torture. After four hours of trying. Finally, you cum — and hard. The sort that robs you of your vision and hearing, the sort that has your whole body arching off the bed. The kind you haven't had in a long time. The kind that, of course, Toshinori Yagi would be the man to provide.
"Fuckfuckfuck—" you babble, gasping, still gripped by the force of the orgasm as his pace quickens.
He's laughing — laughing, and then you're clamping down on him so hard he sees stars. It's all fun and games until he can't stop himself, he can't slow down, he can't breathe, and he's rocked by an orgasm that makes his knees give out. He's wild-eyed, panting, snapping his hips into yours as you whimper and gasp and grip his shoulders so tight he may have bruises.
Toshinori swallows, then gasps to catch his breath, and then pushes himself up to give you a little room to breathe. His cock is still twitching inside of you.
Your eyes are closed, and your breath is fast. Your hair is spilled across the sheet — and you look content. Satiated. Peaceful. He's rarely ever seen you so tranquil.
Blindly, and lazily, you reach up to touch his cheek.
At first, he thinks it's going to be tender. Intimate. Romantic.
Then, you roughly pat it twice.
"We're never gonna talk about this again."
Right.
Because he's All Might. And you're Derecho. You're colleagues. Friends. This was just... him helping you. Like when a friend has a cold. You bring them soup. He... brought you... an orgasm. Just like soup.
Definitely.
...Right.
"It was just, uh," he breathes, pulling out and cursing at the embarrassingly apparent load in the condom; not like he'd dreamed about this very thing for nights on end, no siree bob, "You needed help. I offered."
That is not what happened. Not even close. But, he's going to tell himself that.
Not like you totally won't think about this every single night ever for the rest of time. Definitely like you won't dream about the way he called you a good girl. Ha. Yea, right. Psh. You're fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.
After all, it's just Toshinori.
He's... kind. And gentle. And patient. And levelheaded... If not the single reason your entire life fell apart seven years ago.
And definitely not the reason your life is falling apart right now as you realize, fuck, you're definitely in love with him, aren't you?
could you do all might smut? specifically his prime version or where he switches to his strong version half way through?
Break of Dawn [Toshinori Y.]
┊┊I don't want the sun to shine, I wanna make love
contains: 18+ MDNI!!! this takes place before his injury so he won't have his stomach scar in this, porn with a crumb of plot, MARATHONS (as the title suggests), size kink, oral (f. receiving), unprotected piv pshh yolo, creampie (lots of 'em), tummy bulge, multiple orgasms (f. and m.) wc. 1.9k
you twirl in the mirror for what felt like the thousandth time that evening, making sure your hair is perfect, your makeup isn’t smudged and all that jazz…
you wonder if he’ll even make it in time to see it before you wipe it all off and go to bed.
because dating the number one hero is something people would kill for, you’re very aware of that, and as much as you’re honored to be loved by a man as amazing as toshinori…the reality was very different from people’s fantasy. you were aware of what you were signing up for, the lifestyle he committed to and the duty he vowed to always fulfill. rationally, it shouldn’t have upset you.
rationally, you shouldn’t be mad because he was three hours late to the home date he insisted on having for your anniversary.
but could anyone really blame you for getting pissed off?
you’re swirling around your fourth glass of red wine when there’s a knock on the door, your footing not exactly stable in your heels as you head over to open up.
how can you stay mad when he looks like this?
holding a bouquet so massive he can almost hide his impressive size behind it, toshinori awkwardly stands in the doorway, tentatively presenting them to you like a huge white flag. you had no idea someone of quite his stature could make himself so…small.
you can’t fight the smile that tugs at your lips. “toshi—”
“i’m so sorry,” he cuts you off with an apologetic baritone. “so unbelievably sorry, i-i’d planned it all out to make it in time but you know how it can get and—”
“that’s enough,” you wave off gently. you take the flowers from his hands, heart clenching at the utterly pathetic puppy-dog eyes he’s giving you, ocean blues so glittery you wonder if he was actually close to crying. but when you turn around to go find a vase, he’s not following you inside.
“are you planning to stay there all night?” you briefly look over your shoulder. “are you still letting me in?” he asks quietly, as if you would have every right to kick him out and never make him show his face again. you can’t say you haven’t through about it during those three hours you spent alone.
“oh c’mon, don’t be silly!” you giggle, the wine definitely helping you take this whole situation more lightheartedly. “you even put on a nice suit and all, it would be a shame to let it go to waste.”
toshinori let himself in as you disappeared in the kitchen to put the flowers in some water. it doesn’t take long for him to follow you, a set of large hands settling on your hips. “you look absolutely stunning, darling,” he murmurs, lips moving the strap of your dress out of the way to place a kiss on your shoulder. “should’ve been the first thing i said the moment you opened the door, but i was quite distracted…”
you relax into his dwarfing hold like second nature. “quite distracted, huh?” you tease. “there’s dinner that needs to be heated up, toshi, i can’t—”
“dinner?”
oxygen is punched out of your lungs with a loud gasp when the ground is suddenly missing from under your feet, toshinori easily manhandling you onto the counter opposite to the sink, mindful of the flowers he had so thoughtfully picked out for you. he slots himself between your spread legs so easily, heat lighting on fire every nerve ending in your body. it was always impressive how he could switch from the pouty man on your doorstep to…this.
“you really think i want dinner?” he’s so close now, lips ghosting over yours. it’s so dizzying you can barely breathe. “you’re so cute…i’m staring at my meal right now.”
and then he’s kissing you, so hard and bruising that he has to cup the back of your neck to keep you in place. your lips part in surprise and he wastes no time to capture your tongue with his. he’s already so hard. so painfully hard that you can feel him press against your thigh through the mean, mean fabric of his tailored pants that keeps him separated from the warmth that’s blooming between your legs.
“hah, toshi… “ you moan sweetly into the kiss, impatient hands pawing at his suit jacket, needing it off. you feel him smirk against your lips. “we’ve got a needy girl here, hm? can’t believe i let you here all alone. you need me real bad, don’t you?” you would be lying if you said his faux sympathy wasn’t turning you on like crazy, a pitiful little whimper leaving your lips as you nod.
“mmh, thought so,” his fingers slither beneath your dress, not even making it to your panties before he’s already feeling the slick coating your inner thighs. “oh my goodness, is this mess for me? we can’t let you ruin this pretty dress, can we now?”
gods, you’ll never get tired of this sight.
the sense of power that swells your chest when he folds himself on his knees before you, eyes like sapphires admiring you so adoringly, rough hands wrenching your thighs apart with a hushed ”thank you” before he’s diving in to devour his meal.
“toshi, fuck…fuck!” he doesn’t even bother to take off your panties or even move them to the side, bunching up your dress at your waist and immediately licking a loooong, messy stripe over your clothed cunt. toshinori’s lips close around your clit, giving it a light suck before he’s pulling away with a loud mwah!
“so wet…so…sweet,” he’s already gone. his thumbs spread your puffy lips to lap up at your slit through the almost see-through fabric of your underwear, the flimsy barrier pushing against the sensitive flesh so intoxicating under the light pressure of his tongue. “and mine. all mine.”
your fingers find purchase in his hair, the blonde strands held up by the hair gel messy and floppily falling at the sides of his face, already roughened up by the short makeout session just minutes ago. “p-please, toshi…more…” you gasp, hips bucking into his ravenous maw.
heat coils rapidly in your belly, your back bowing in a beautiful arch when a fat digit pushes past your gummy hole, sucking it in greedily with a lewd squelch. another one quickly follows, his pointer and middle finger spreading your velvety walls and coaxing the sweetest moans, his favorite symphony.
“are you close, darling?” toshinori peppers your puffy clit with soft kisses, a stark contrast to his fingers bullying your cunt. “i want to feel it…i want to hear it—”
“toshi!”
it’s not a gentle build-up, it’s a sudden, all-encompassing explosions that makes your body seize. your thighs clench shut instinctively, but toshinori’s powerful hand keeps you nicely spread, working you over each peak of your orgasm. “please…pleasepleasepleaseplease!” you sub half-coherently, tugging at his hair hard enough to make him groan, unsure if you want to pull him closer or push him away.
he only withdraws once your body stops shaking, staring at the way your chest heaves, your parted kiss-bitten lips and glossy eyes. like a worshipper who feels unworthy of even standing close to his deity’s altar. like even a lifetime of prayer wouldn’t be enough to be granted a blessing.
your fingers aren’t gripping his hair so harshly anymore, gently massaging the scalp as you smile down at him. “was that your appetizer?” you joke, gaze softening when he rests his cheek against your inner thigh. however, when toshinori speaks up, he’s definitely not joking.
“you thought i was done?”
…
“look at her…so ngh beautiful…f-fucking hah, stunning—”
one of his calloused hands is splayed over your stomach, marveling at the way his fat cock bulges over your tummy, pushing his cum deep-deep-deeper into your bullied cunt. your face is streaked with tears, whorish moans bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. toshinori is equally as ruined as you, biceps and back marked with ruby scratches and crescent indents left by your nails.
“t-too much…toshi, ngh!” your teeth sink into his shoulder, tanned skin salty with sweat and tears. you don’t know how many times you’ve cum already, how many times he’s cum already. the sunset had bled into the night sky hours ago, that’s the best estimate your fucked out brain can conjure.
you don’t even remember reaching the bed, your mind all fuzzy and mushy since he’s had you bent over the kitchen counter, then again pushed up against the wall in the hall, ragdolled up and down his cock as if you weighed nothing.
“i-i need to - fuck - apologize to her p-properly, don’t i?” toshinori’s words are muffled by your breast in his mouth, teeth only lightly grazing your perked nipple. just enough pressure to drive you crazy.
just how much stamina does this guy have!?
you’re sure he’s going to start to cum dry soon, but he looks like he’s got no intention to stop any time soon.
“why, you want me to stop?” his tongue circles the pink nub, another sharp thrust makes you keen. “n-no! no, p-please, don’t stop!” you shake your head firmly, tasting another tear falling on your lips. the last thing you see is his crazed grin before the world flips upside down.
or maybe it’s you, manhandled onto your stomach, ass up in the air. your hole flutters around nothing for a heartbeat before he’s stuffing you again, girth stretching you out so deliciously, every inch sliding with zero resistance, slick with your mixed release.
toshinori dwarfs you, hunched over you until his chest is flush against your arched back, a powerful arm holding you up as your limbs lay limp on the mattress. his free hand sneaks between your thighs, fingers drawing tight, sloppy circles over your clit, so spent it send weak zaps through your body.
but it’s still enough for another orgasm - you’ve lost count by now - to crest. you sob, face buried into the pillow to suffocate a scream as you come undone all over his cock, cunt squeezing toshinori’s cock so snugly he spills inside you with a long moan of your name.
to avoid crushing you with his weight, he’s quick to roll over his side and bring you with him. you can’t tell who’s more wrecked, air heavy with bated gulps of air and the unmistakable scent of sex.
“that was—” you begin.
“amazing,” he finishes for you, breathing out a laugh. “seems like months ago, huh?” toshinori whispers, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “do you feel good?”
“yeah,” you cuddle back into him. “a little sore but i’ll recover. how about you, number one hero?”
“mh…want to know what i think? that japan can do without the number one hero for a while longer, if it means i can stay here.”
and as the first lights timidly blink through the horizon, you wonder how many dawns you still have left with the number one hero. before the weight of his power - his burdens, his guilt - will eventually consume him whole. how long you have left before he shines too bright, and burns everything he's ever allowed getting too close?
┊┊a/n. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR 900 KAMILINGS!! i was very conflicted about whether or not i wanted to make him transform into his muscle form mid-sex but since he's considerably younger here i decided to keep him buff the whole time...if the people want more Toshinori content then maybe i'll write something with that trope
