you would think him not being the most built out of all his friends would mean he has the least stamina… but boy are you wrong. kaminari can go round after round, even after he’s already came. he doesn’t feel the need to stop until there’s tears in his eyes— although sometimes, that might just turn him on even more.
and don’t be fooled, he’s the sweetest boyfriend you’ve ever had. so the only time he makes you cry? when you’re under him.
"k-kami~..! *hiccup* c-can’t take it~..!" you cry, the sound of your weeping cunt and his hips rhythmically slamming against your ass filling the room.
"said you missed me.. right baby? shitt, so fuckin’ wet.. said you missed my dick, right?"
you had to go a whole week without seeing him due to you both agreeing (more so, you insisting and him whining about it until giving in) to focus on school until the weekend since you both had exams coming up. so as soon as he got you alone, your poor self stood no chance.
"p-pleasee~..! ‘s t-too muchh~..!"
"aww, don’t cry, baby.. i got you.."
he only fucks you harder, his hand gripping your plush asscheek as try to run away. your hand comes back to weakly grab onto something— or at least plead for mercy, and his hand finds yours in a second. you don’t even know which orgasm you’re about to be on at this point… maybe your 5th?
"hold my hand.. hold my hand. yeah, stay still.. takee that shit baby, mhmm.."
all the whining and crying goes out the window when he brings you to another blissful orgasm, his dick bullying your gspot in the best way possible.
"’m cumming babyy~.. oo fuckk~!"
"fuckk that’s a good girl.. gonna make me nut in that pussy.."
both of these boys are such huge simps for you! like they are absolutely obsessed with you and they WILL make being your boyfriend their entire personality!
they both constantly manage to bring you up in conversation with whoever they are talking to, unable to relate everything back to you and how much they love you!
not even their teachers are safe, as denki will even yap to them about how much he likes you and how much more bearable you make those boring classes…
you never really have to announce your relationship with the two of them, as they happily talk about it so much that everyone knows within five minutes of meeting you three that you are an item!
neither denki nor kirishima minds sharing you with each other either! if anything, they happily do it! this way you'll always have at least one of them who can be there for you, if not both of them!
plus, they both learn from each other! denki teaches kirishima some cringey but cute pick up lines to use on you, while kirishima is more prone to genuine comments and praise, which denki picks up on from him!
of course, their friends are very supportive of their relationship with you! while bakugou might roll his eyes every time those two talk about you, he does make an effort to always invite you along to stuff! and mina is always ready to pick your side over the boys, making sure they treat you right (which they always do)!
Contains: Handcuffs, slight mention of violent action, theft, mentions of blood, electrification, cussing. MATURE sexual CONTENT. Oral sex, edging, he doms, semi-public. Ever so slight dubcon if you squint?
-
“Chargebolt! Over here! Over here!” A journalist frantically waved her hands, catching his attention. Not waiting a second to waste the spotlight, she shot her question. “What do you have to say to the accusations that you were caught indecently in an alleyway with a criminal?”
Many of the cameras flashed and eyes looked towards the shocking comment, hoping for a newsworthy response at the press conference for the pro hero team of Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, Red Riot, Alien Queen, Chargebolt, and Cellophane.
He chuckled slightly with a shy smile, and backed away from the podium, entirely dodging the question. Such outlandish things were common from the press for more publicity; easily ignored. If this one was real, well, who would even know if he kept quiet?
“Dude, did you actually do it?” Kirishima whispered to him, somehow knowing with his perfect sense of intuition, bumping him on the shoulder.
“Not here,” was all he whispered back in confession, a small mischievous smile secretly playing on his face.
—
Out of all the things, you, a seasoned villain, got caught snatching a purse someone had left unattended on a bench! Sure, it was definitely fancy enough to be worth taking, but if only it hadn’t been near to that damn hero in the corner, you never would have been noticed. At the moment, night was falling, the last bright rays crashing down against the horizon of the city, and your wrists were tightly held by none other than pro hero Chargebolt, every bit living up to his fiery name. “You’re under arrest, hot stuff,” he beamed, much too cheery for the situation at hand.
Shit! Yes, he was the hottest young hero around, but you couldn’t be stopped like this, not even by him! What to do, what to do? Thinking fast, you slammed the back of your head into his, and felt him release you in a daze, staggering back, holding his nose. As hot as the sight of the blood dripping down his face with a smile may be, you averted your gaze and opted to run for your life, instead of stupidly simping over the golden-haired guy.
Perhaps it was a mistake, for he was recovered in seconds, chuckling. What the hell? He didn’t even pursue, no loud banging of his shoes bolting after you, like you would have expected of a hero. It nearly caused you to second guess and look back, but you decided it were better to question it later and not look a gift horse in the mouth.
You hadn’t ran any more than ten meters down the narrow nearby street before you felt it; sharp, excruciating pain blooming around your back, so intense that it was almost dull. Your body was not made to handle feeling such a thing. Was this what it felt like to be shot? Time moved still, and every moment you felt like you were nearly dying, the pain amplifying and surging through you, head-to-toe. Soon, you were mercilessly convulsing on the ground, wishing the sting would end. Why did you have to run into someone with such a combat-focused quirk? Shit.
It was over as soon as it had begun, leaving you gasping for breath, doubled over. It was just… gone, like withdrawing your hand from a hot stovetop. How could that be right? The pain had all but vanished, but you couldn’t ignore the way it had just clawed through every part of your being, as if your veins were on fire. It would be impossible to recover in such a short amount of time.
Chargebolt strolled leisurely towards you, as if he had all the time in the world, which would have been infuriating to your current situation, had you not been so in shock, trying to regain your sanity and line of thinking.
Before you knew it, he had tugged you up sadistically by the hair, pushing his knee into your back, shoving you to the ground. He looked you in the eyes, tilting your head up with sparking interest before allowing you to slump down again, but this time, a freezing, heavy sensation dragged on your wrists, tight behind your back. Looking down, you realized what he had done. Handcuffing. Of course… that was the reason he had picked you up like that. “Hey, you made me have to use something rougher than just my hands,” he said defensively with a sigh, trailing his fingers along the metal. “Don’t go blaming me for starting a fight...” You hung your head, defeated. Aw man, this sucked bad. Not only were you caught, but you had really made a fool of yourself…
“Sorry princess, but that’s what happens when you try to steal my things,” he chided in a tone as if you were a pet who had just been punished for leaping onto a table, and then he had felt bad about being too mean about it. A comforting hand trailed down your back, as if to say ‘I know your pain’. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but feel comforted by the gentle touch after all the adrenaline and pain, as if it were some twisted plan all along. A smear of blood streaked from his nose to his cheek that he had clearly tried to wipe off, but a bit still dripped down to the corner of his mouth. This guy was weird. A freak. Who would treat a villain like this, so hot-and-cold, terribly then nicely? People normally had pretty polarized views of people like you.
Wait. “Your things?” you questioned, too dazed to think before the words tumbled out of your mouth. “That purse was yours?”
“It’s a crossbody bag, babe,” he said sassily with a hint of offense, picking it up and flinging it over his shoulder. “...and I happen to think they look quite fashionable…” he sighed. “-especially on, ya know… me.” He posed like a model, which was a bit ridiculous given what you had just gone through, you could have almost laughed, but you most certainly couldn’t deny pretty much nothing would look bad on him. He was Chargebolt, after all. He was one of the few heroes you kept up with on social media, posting content that could questionably be considered thirst traps with the way he bit his lip, winked, or looked up at the camera on every other video. The captions under the posts were overly flirtations, ‘feel free to fall for me’ type of posts, along with some puns that occasionally made you chuckle. The guy had an interesting sense of humor and most certainly wasn’t bad looking.
“Maybe it does,” you said pleasantly, trying to formulate a way to escape from the situation you currently found yourself in. Surely, buttering up the hero wouldn’t hurt your chances?
“Unh? You really think so!” he shouted happily, pumping his fists. “I just got it downtown at this…” he prattled on, falling into your trap and giving you time to formulate.
By now, the darkness of night was quickly descending like smooth water falling down. Every second was darker and darker.
“Handcuffs, really? What is this, 50 years ago? How old-fashioned. I thought only police did stuff like that nowadays. Why not just knock me out?” you complained, hoping to continue to distract him from taking you down to the station for a bit longer.
“I… like them?” he once again trailed his fingers across the short chain, starting to pull you up. “They suit you,” he dropped his voice with a smirk. Hell, was he really flirting with you? Was that supposed to be sexual?
“Going after my stuff with me right there, it was almost like you wanted to get caught by me,” he quirked an eyebrow mischeviously as he spoke.
There it was, your out, a perfectly lit path through the darkness, and he had given it straight to you.
“Maybe… maybe I did,” you said with a nervous smile.
His eyes lit up as if in disbelief. “Are you serious? God, what a stalker! Are you a fan, huh? Or just passed by and thought this would be a good way to get my attention?” he questioned eagerly. “Because you’ve certainly got it.”
It was working; he had released you and looked at you with newfound interest. He had entirely bought it, there was no faking the enthusiasm and energy that seeped from him.
“Yea…” now to really hit home… “If you get my phone, I can show you-”
Within seconds, he had it out of your pocket in excitement, tapping the fingerprint sensor against your hand and scrolling through your social media, seeing all the (occasional) likes and notes on his posts. “Oh, you commented that? I can’t believe this! My first stan I meet IRL! Haha! Wow! Shocking, really.” He was busy enough inflating his own ego that he may miss if you slipped away… but those heavy, police-grade metal handcuffs… would be hard to explain to a locksmith.
“Hey,” he turned back from you in thought. “So, if you’re a crazy fan, then how come you only liked some of the posts?” Shoot… innocent enough, but it was unusual.
“B-because those were the ones with other people in them!” you said in a hurry, blurting the words out and hoping he was too trusting and understanding to check.
“Someone’s possessive of their hero, ahaaha!” he chuckled, impressed. “Just how far would you be willing to go for me, hmm?” He knelt down at you, tilting up your head. Hell. He had to be serious.
“Uncuff me and find out.”
He scoffed and let you go. “Well I really shouldn’t… nah, uncuffing, that’d ruin the fun!”
He put a hand to his mouth, considering. “Well… I guess I could let you go… after all, it’s not like you had anything really evil planned,” he rationalized, totally unaware of who you were and the things you’d done. “It was mine, after all, just a ploy for attention, and if I decide to forgive you, no biggie, right?” he said, shrugging, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. You just slowly nodded along, as if you were just now catching his drift.
“So, wanna figure out a deal?” he said slyly, coming up behind you and rubbing between your shoulder blades, right where he had shot you with his electricity. A noise nearly escaped from you the moment his hands grazed you. You had to admit, it felt lovely against the aches, and you found yourself leaning into the touch. You’d better take his offer before he decided to rescind it.
“T-that feels good… u-uh, sounds good.”
“Yeah, I suppose I could make an exception, and we could… come to an agreement for someone as pretty as you…” The implications ran deep and you relaxed under his hold, fully leaning back and allowing him to hold you. Despite how dim the alleyway was by now, only a few meager stars and the moon and a distant streetlamp, you could see the tension in his eyes as your bodies drew closer.
“Chargebolt…”
“Call me Denki,” he breathed, pulling you in. You could definitely use the knowledge of his first name against him, but for now… for now, his lips grazed against yours, the metallic tang of the blood you had caused still sticking slightly, but you couldn’t care less, all that mattered was the closeness and relieving the ache he had caused deep in your chest.
It wasn’t his quirk, but you could not doubt the spark you felt as his lips pushed against yours, once, twice, three times, meshing with each other, filling that need you desperately had wanted since he started being all teasing. Every second guess you had if he was just joking flitted from your mind, replaced with a firm undeniable certainty. If your hands weren’t handcuffed behind your back, you would have reached for the back of his head for more. Sensing this, he did the same to you, brushing through your hair from the nape of your neck, which sent tingles down your spine.
It was a tangle of emotions and needy presses against each other for many minutes after, before the two of you finally separated again.
After staggering back in a gasp to gain a breath, he stood up with a smirk. “You look good there, kneeling on the ground, for me, sweet stuff,” he said, circling you with stiff legs in an exaggerated fashion, twining around you much like how you secretly had him wrapped around your finger.
With a brief glance downwards, one thing was clear: Oh, he was definitely hard. “Like what you see, hmm?” he mocked, noticing where your eyes had landed.
“Think you could help me out, maybe?” he questioned.
“Uncuff me and I’ll show you how well I can-”
“Haven't had anyone for awhile, I think I will take you up on that.” Taking your sassiness as permission, Denki slid his quirk support belt and hip pouches (which must have contained the handcuffs) down, and it was obvious where this was going. So much for getting the handcuffs off quickly, but you still seemed to be on the right track. Was it really so bad, if he were palming himself with one hand inches from your mouth that he was trailing his other thumb along? Was it really so bad that the handsome guy kissed you so passionately? Was it really so bad, that you felt the wetness seeping through your thighs at the thought of him ‘taking advantage’ of you like this?
You let your mouth hang open as he pressed gently against the bottom lip, dragging the saliva against the digit and slowly dropping his pants, pressing the fingers that had been in your mouth against his hard-on, which strained against his boxers. “Hell…” He breathily gave himself a few strokes, gently biting his lip at how painfully horny he was by now, seeing you watching him so intently. He couldn’t disappoint a huge fan, could he?
“Well then, earn your freedom, villain, if you want it so badly!” He pressed himself up against your cheek, and you took that as your cue. You couldn’t help but want to please him as his manly scent- Chargebolt, the mighty, funny, hot hero, flooded your senses. You lightly tongued his length through the fabric, and he hissed with need as you made contact. You licked slowly around and up the shaft, slipping the very end of the tip into your mouth. The strong hero was quickly coming apart at the thought of a quick blowjob in the back of an alleyway. Although you could hardly see anything but shards of his face in the sparse light, you were sure his face was red, and god did he want it.
“Shit, I can’t… fuck, you can take it all, right?” he asked, more to himself than talking to you. “I need more. Open your mouth, please?” he commanded. You obeyed, following his instructions and allowing him to do what he wanted, as with your hands tied, you had little option to act on your own. If you wanted this, even a little bit, it would have to be on his terms.
He slid his waistband down, and his dick sprang up to gently smack your cheek. Your mouth watered in anticipation, and you left it open, feeling the drool condense at the base of your tongue. He ran himself against the soft flesh for a moment, shutting his eyes slightly to enjoy, leaving an ever-so-slight trail of thick precum.
“You’re going to earn this now, alright?” He clearly wasn't looking for a verbal answer as he guided himself past your lips, and you finally tasted the saltiness of him against your tongue. You clenched your thighs together. Would you get to feel this perfectly shaped-
“Knew it. Shit, you're a good one. Doing a good job. Hell…” he stuttered out as he went deeper, and paused, letting out a small shudder as he felt your warm, wet mouth around him. You breathed through your nose, trying to adjust to the sensation. He couldn’t help but grip your shoulders in a similar motion to what he had done while massaging them. He throbbed a few times, as if the thought alone of being in your mouth could finish him. Really, how the mighty had fallen. In some ways, the hero was now at your mercy.
Ever-so-slightly, you moved your tongue around him and pressed into him even more, curious to see what else he would do. “Shit!” He threw his head back, unable to help the way his hips snapped towards the feeling. He was sure sensitive. “Hey, I didn’t- Didn’t…” his thoughts trailed off, gulping as he looked down at you taking his cock, and couldn’t pretend to tease or that he didn’t like what he saw. He throbbed again and let out a moan, setting a pace in and out of your mouth, alternating between cusses and groans. “Feels s’ good with your tongue against me-” he gasped, eyes widening, “like that,” he breathed.
His grip against you tightened, and he couldn’t help but nervously bunch his fists in your hair as he pushed into your mouth, uttering brief praises that cut off abruptly to be replaced by new ones. He was falling apart already. With how much twitching he was doing, it couldn’t be long.
Sure enough, he pushed himself up to the base and stilled in your throat, throbbing and taking a moment, and you could feel his hands trembling in your hair, moments from being undone. He pushed in and out once more, again stilling himself firmly. A few more times you allowed him to repeat this pattern. Then, as if changing his mind, he thrusted roughly and quickly enough that you nearly coughed before the final shuddering, sloppy movements occurred. His whole body jerked with the spurts that coated your mouth and you were forced to swallow down. His eyes were glued tightly shut as he let out a sighed moan and a string of cusses, dick twitching against the roof of your mouth before finally stilling, and he pulled himself back into his pants.
You continued to kneel there, and he ran his fingers through your hair again, moving along your shoulders and upper back in comforting motions, no doubt pleased with your performance. “You— fucking bastard,” he couldn’t help but smile. “God, this was a great shift,” he chuckled, breathless, before leaning down in a deep kiss.
How long… would this go on for? He was insatiable. You couldn’t find yourself complaining as he greedily caressed your cheek with his hand and went in for another rough kiss, consuming your tongue and lips, uncaring that it still tasted like his release.
“Let me return the favor then, oh biggest fan.”
Was he ever going to uncuff you? The thought was quickly forgotten when he deftly shoved your shorts down, which would have been utterly humiliating had anyone been watching. There was nothing you could do to stop it. He dragged you up, groping your chest and trailing down to your waistband with a smirk. He rolled his hips against yours, and you gasped as you felt his already-hard length slide against the spot on your panties, bumping right against your clit, giving it the slightest bit of friction. You clenched your fists. He pushed more, embracing you, his clothed member slipping against the pathetically drenched slick at the bottom of your underwear, coating his own. Shit, you wanted it. “Oh? You wanted this bad, huh? Go ahead, I’d love to hear it.”
How long had it been at this point? He had still hardly even touched you anywhere indecent! He rubbed firm circles around your nipples, and your hips found his subconsciously.
“I have been thinking about you… for awhile,” you admitted, flustered.
“Mmm… and what exactly has my fan been thinking about, hot stuff?” Denki lowered himself as he trailed his fingers down across your chest, sides, waist, hips, and rested on your thighs. His kisses started in the middle of your chest and went in a line straight downwards, stopping at your waistband, him now the one kneeling. You couldn’t answer, too preoccupied with the feeling of his hands and lips on such sensitive areas. “Well, you're certainly wet from just sucking me off, anyhow. It’s cute,” he said, endearingly, pushing two fingers lightly against your drenched, clothed hole.
He occupied his mouth by biting into your waistband, thumbing at the leg bands and pulling it down, staring so intently with lust and fascination at what lay under them.
While you may have reached out and tried to stop him in embarrassment, the moment you moved your arms the cuffs jerked, stopping your hands from going any further. With a grunt, he shoved your back against the wall firmly, and yanked down the remaining fabric.
“Spread ‘em,” he breathed desperately, dropping the cloth to your ankles. He pushed his thumbs into the divots in your upper thighs, pressing them apart enough to gain access. Who were you to say no to him doing you this favor? Certainly afterwards he would unlock you from the bindings.
Looking away, you unclenched your muscles, and allowed him to pull your thighs apart. You were rewarded with a flutter of quick kisses next to his thumbs as he looked up, as if unsure, and you felt your cheeks burn as you nodded your permission. You saw the sly grin that graced his face in the darkness seconds before he turned his gaze down, and although shy, you couldn’t help but want to watch how intrigued and engrossed he seemed to be by you.
Slowly moving his fingers up, he parted your lips between his middle and index finger, enough to breathe against your clit. There was no doubt the way the slick was nearly beginning to drip down your thigh, or the way your bump jumped at the slight change in air. You wanted him, badly. Anyone passing by would have no doubt. Placing his hands on your hips, he pressed you back into the wall as his mouth finally latched onto your clit, sucking and tonguing in slow motions. He kneaded your sides in his fingers, kneeling against one of your legs. The sick pervert was rocking himself against your shin while pleasing you. If only your damn hands weren’t helplessly plastered against the brick wall behind you, you’d wish to feel his fluffy locks between your fingers. Instead, you balanced on the leg he was gently using, and pushed him into you further with the other, and you were met with a deep moan as his nose slid against the slick of your pussy.
He quickly swatted you back. “Careful doll, don’t want to fall… as nice as the thought of you landing on my face would be,” he warned. “Just lean back and let me…”
You couldn’t help but whimper as his muscle slipped down to your hole, prodding at the entrance. His lips had to be coated by you. He inched his way in, rubbing small circles around your clit. Damn, much more of this and you couldn’t resist…
“D-do you want to…” slipped out of your mouth before you could even think of how to end that.
“Yea? Do I want to what?” he challenged between breaths.
“You rather put your aching cock somewhere else?” you chanced, feeling bold, finding it hard to stay still, your knees almost trembling at how much you needed his contact after how worked up he had gotten you.
He throbbed on your leg in response, and hummed in a way that sent shivers up your pussy, God, you wanted to grab him! “Sounds fun, maybe next time,” he said, a buzz coming from his pocket.
Next time, did he mean it? Would there truly be a ‘next time’?
“Nngh, your tongue feels so good, fuck!” You bucked up against him. You could feel yourself starting to get close with just the slippery sensations of his tongue. He hadn’t even used his fingers in you…. it was surprising, how quickly he got you like this, and you feared that you could see yourself getting used to it…
“Ah shoot. work calls. I am on duty, after all,” he said, as the buzzing from his phone resumed once again, withdrawing to decline the call and opt to text instead, leaving you quivering in surprise.
“You’re just… gonna leave me here?” you asked, indignantly. Hell, you knew his work, but still…
“Gotta leave you wanting more to make sure you come back?” he replied, tilting his head, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Fucking heroes! Never finishing the job right. You could have growled at him. First thing you were doing when you got home was unfollowing him.
“Oh, and let’s make this one fun, villain!” he emphasized the word. Did he somehow know who you were? Was this all secretly some elaborate ruse? Fuck, had you somehow been played, when you thought this was all just happening to work out in your favor?
“I’ll leave this here with you to keep as a little reminder…” he slid the key into your mouth, the taste bitter and metallic, and you had nothing else left to say, too conflicted with your thoughts and focused on your ticket out. “...and if you can figure out how to do that, here’s this, too. He slipped something into your hand. It felt like… a crumpled receipt? What the hell?
You squinted after him as he wandered down the alleyway whistling a happy tune, gone as soon as he came, pulling out his phone to call his work back. This certainly had to be the most unusual ‘failed’ robbery ever.
You spat the key out and turned around, picking it up from behind your back, attempting with the very little room the handcuffs allowed you to feel for where the key would fit into the lock. With a scraping noise, you knew you had succeeded. You pulled the metal apart finally, and your hands slipped out, effortlessly, and hooked the metal around your belt. Maybe you’d have some use for them later.
As pissed as you were, you couldn’t help but wonder if you would really have the chance to see the hero again. After all… what could it mean for your organization to get close with a pro? You knew you wouldn’t tell anyone his real name, or hold it against him. Just something about him… made you want to be close, almost protective. Made you want more nights like tonight…
You uncrumpled the paper, which contained a hastily scribbled note. ‘Hey if you finish, take a video for me, mk?’ As if in this dirty alley! The gall! You could hardly believe you did all that you had here, anyways. ‘...or if you want, maybe come to my place? The shift ends in 30. See ya?’ Your heart fluttered to see a little lightning bolt against his real name, alongside a string of very convincing-looking numbers.
Denki can’t help but grab. The pudgy arms are soft to the touch, and Yoshi squeaks in his sleep, like a bird, or maybe a piglet.
Denki’s hand slips downward, to the tiny little hand, the five fingernails he’s clipped today. He did good, he knows, because neither of them cried. Well, maybe his eyes watered a little, but Yoshi had been brave.
Yoshi balls his other hand into a fist, and Denki chuckles. “You gonna be a hero one day, huh? Just like your Daddy?”
Yoshi squeaks again, curling his nose.
And then he sneezes and farts at the same time.
“You’re going to be late,” you remind him from the doorway, arms folded in a way that tells him you don’t want him to leave. “We’re going to be fine.”
“You sure?” Denki asks, thinking about picking up Yoshi one more time. It won’t hurt to carry him around a little longer, he’s sure. “Did you check the kitchen for intruders? Wait, that’s my job.”
“There are no intruders,” you remind him softly, your voice like a hand to his chest, holding him back. “And you’re going to be late for work.”
“But I don’t want to go to work,” Denki whines. “You can’t make me.”
“I can and I will,” you’re smiling now, playing along to his charades. “Think of your son. Don’t you want to set a good example?”
“At being away?”
“At being a hero,” you take a step closer and lean in for a kiss. “Besides. The faster you leave, the faster you’re back home again.”
“I think that’s not exactly true.”
“You’re shit at math, you can’t prove me wrong.”
***
Yoshi’s steps are a little unsteady, but what he lacks in coordination he more than makes up for in determination. One, two, three, and up he goes in the air.
“Careful!” He warns Kyoka, but his words fall on deaf ears as she catches a giggling Yoshi in her arms, digging her nose into his hair. “Who’s my favorite nephew? You are. Yes, you are.”
“Oh, let her be,” you chide softly from his side, your walk almost as unsteady as Yoshi’s. “I need to pee again.”
“Uh,” Denki looks around for the toilets. “How urgent is it?”
“Not quite peeing myself, but don’t make me laugh in the next few minutes.” You cradle the bump that is now more of a bowling ball. “Can’t wait for this little one to be out and about.”
“Don’t say that,” Denki whines, still looking for the toilet sign. “I want them to be little forever. Yoshi’s already growing much too fast.”
“Are you?” Kyoka asks. “Are you growing fast?”
“Yes,” Yoshi decides. “‘m gonna be tall like Papa.”
“But Papa isn’t tall at all,” Kyoka jokes. “Don’t you wanna be tall like Uncle Shoji?”
“Papa is taller than Uncle Shoji,” Yoshi declares pointedly. “So I’m gonna be as tall as him.”
Kyoka opens her mouth to disagree, but Denki, finally spotting the sign, leans in to press a wet kiss to his son’s cheek. “My hero,” he declares. “Always coming in strong in my defense. We’re going to go pee, will you make sure Aunty Kyoka stays safe?”
“Will do!” Yoshi salutes him, almost taking Kyoka’s eye out in the process. Ah, well, he’s learning.
“Papa, can you make an eye?” Yoshi asks, pulling on Denki’s left hand. “Can you?”
“No, Yoshi, I can’t.”
“Why?” Yoshi seems puzzled by this. “Uncle Shoji can.”
“Yeah, because that’s his Quirk. Remember?”
Yoshi considers this, sitting down right where he’s at. “But how are you a hero when you can’t make an eye?”
“Cause I’m cool,” Denki starts to explain, cut off by Kyoka’s snickering. “I am, okay?”
“Your Papa has an amazing Quirk,” you add softly from the side. “One day you might have it too.”
“What’s it going to be?” Yoshi asks.
“Well,” Denki pauses, wondering just how to explain. “Remember how you always like to watch the lightning storms?”
Yoshi’s eyes light up. “I can make it do that?”
“With training, yes.”
“That’s so cool.” Yoshi turns to Shoji, who’d been sitting quietly by Kyoka’s side. “Can you make it do that, too?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
Yoshi leans in to pat his shoulder, though he’s not quite able to reach it. “Don’t be sad. Maybe I can show you how when I’ve learned it.”
***
“This is your little sister,” Denki explains carefully. “See? She’s got ten fingers and ten toes, just like you.”
“Why are her eyes like that?” Yoshi asks, unblinking. “Is she sick?”
“Not quite,” Denki swallows thickly before he continues. “Sometimes people are born a little differently than others. That doesn’t mean they are sick or weird or anything like that, just that they need a little bit more help with some things than others.”
Yoshi considers that. “But she’s going to be able to play with me?”
“Absolutely. You just need to give her a little time to grow first. Do you want to hold her?”
“Can I?” Yoshi sounds just as breathlessly amazed as Denki had been, that first time in the hospital, when they had handed his son over. “She’s heavy.”
“Yeah, she is. That’s why Mom’s going to need a bit more rest over the next few weeks. It was a lot of work to bring Tamiko into the world.”
Tamiko’s not a crier. She snuffles and she hiccups, she queaks and she blows bubbles, but if there is even the faintest sound of discomfort from her, Yoshi is by her side to pick her up.
“Papa,” Yoshi finds him in the kitchen, Tamiko in his arms. “Tamiko needs a fresh diaper.”
“Oh, yeah, right,” he almost forgets to turn off the stove. “Right at it.”
They work together, like that.
“Papa?” Yoshi finds him in the bathroom, the door perpetually unlocked. “Can you read me a bedtime story?”
“Absolutely.” Denki yawns. “Do you want to crawl into bed with Mommy? I’ll get the book and give Tamiko a kiss goodnight.”
“Okay.” Yoshi turns the other way.
When he passes by the bathroom once again, he smiles. “I gave Tamiko two kisses goodnight. I’m winning.”
He should be sleeping, Denki knows, but he can’t.
He’s got one more week before he’s expected back at work, and you’re still not quite in the shape to be caring for two children.
This isn’t what he envisioned for his future. This isn’t what he promised you when he slipped that ring onto your finger.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask from his right, Yoshi’s breathing the only thing separating your bodies.
“I don’t know how we’re going to do this.”
Your touch is gentle, just a palm on the warm skin on the inside of his arm, pulse on pulse. It calms him down instantly. He’s not alone in this, never was, never will be.
“Aren’t we putting too much onto Yoshi? Isn’t this going to be too much for you?”
“I’m going to be fine,” you insist quietly. “I’m more worried about you.”
“Yes, but this isn’t a battle. This isn’t war. This is life. You should be able to enjoy this.”
The tears slip out without warning. “I enjoy this,” he claims, though he can tell he’s not quite honest. But what does that mean?
“I love Tamiko,” he sobs, not at all surprised when you climb over sleeping Yoshi to push him into the pillows, your soft weight grounding him.
“It being too much doesn’t negate your feelings for her,” you reassure him. “I know you’re going to be the best father there is. You worry too much.”
Denki laughs, wipes his nose, and pulls you closer. “Now that’s something I haven’t heard before. I always thought I worried too little.”
“Yeah,” you agree. “Which is why this isn’t working. It’s not your job to worry. You need to be the carefree one in this relationship. Take Tamiko out into the world. Believe in your children to be great at everything they do. Leave the worrying to me.”
“Sometimes I wonder who’s the hero in this family.”
“Me too,” you tease him gently, kissing him once more. “But then I look at you and I know I married the right one.”
***
“Papa?” Yoshi asks, one hand on Tamiko’s stroller. “What do you want to be when you’re grown up?”
Denki pauses, momentarily stunned by the question. “You mean now?”
“No.” Yoshi shakes his head. “When you grow up. What do you want to be?”
You snicker on his right. “Well, I want to be a cook.”
“Excuse me?” Denki turns. “Since when do you want to be a cook? You hate cooking.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t hate it then. I would be grown up.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Papa,” Yoshi reminds him. “You need to answer.”
“Uh, a hero, I guess.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah, why?”
Tamiko wakes, her hands grasping for something neither of them can see. They all watch her, the way she reacts to their voices, slowly grasping who is who.
Eventually, Denki picks her out of her stroller, breathes in her sweet strawberry scent, and lets her blow bubbles against his neck.
“You know how you feel when you do something good?” Denki asks, pressing a kiss to Tamiko’s right hand when she presses it against his mouth. “Like when you help Mommy in the kitchen and she gives you a kiss for doing so good?”
“Yeah,” Yoshi beams. “Or when Tamiko laughs when I pick her up. That makes bubbles in my tummy.”
“Right. Being a hero means doing lots of good things every day. It’s hard sometimes, just like you want to keep playing with your toys instead of helping in the kitchen, but then it feels so good after, it’s worth it.”
Yoshi considers that. “Is it bad if I don’t want to be a hero?”
Denki falters. “You don’t want to be a hero? It’s the coolest job.”
You laugh softly by his side, but Yoshi doesn’t notice. “But Uncle Deku is a teacher,” he claims. “A-and he’s got a thousand gold stickers. I saw. He showed me. You don’t have a thousand gold stickers.”
Denki sighs. “No. I don’t. Guess I lose.”
“Don’t worry,” Yoshi takes his free hand, squeezing it. “I still think you’re cool.”
Yoshi looks at him earnestly, chewing his lip. “Can I ask you a secret?”
“Err, yes.” Denki sits up, pats the spot next to him on the couch. “Where’s Mom?”
“She’s in the bathroom with Tamiko,” Yoshi climbs up and leans into him. “Promise you’re not telling Mom?”
“I promise. So… what do you want to ask?”
“Am I going to get a little brother?”
Denki hesitates. He’s not sure what to answer. Not sure what to say.
“What makes you ask that?”
Yoshi looks away, plays with the fringe on a throw pillow. “Cause… Aunty Kyoka is getting a baby, right?”
Denki blinks. “She is?”
“Yeah,” Yoshi nods. “She was patting her tummy a lot when we were over. Like Mom did when she had Tamiko.”
“Oh,” Denki shakes his head. “No, Aunty Kyoka isn’t pregnant. She had a lot to eat that day. Remember? We had her favorite.”
“But she said something about a baby.”
Denki thinks back to the conversations that day. Nothing stands out to him, and it’s not until the third time he goes through his memories that he figures it out.
“Oh, I get it. Mom went to the bathroom with you when she explained it. She’s getting a cat. But it’s still a baby, so she has to wait until it grows a little bigger before she brings it home.”
Yoshi deflates. “I’m not getting a cousin?”
“No, I’m sorry. Do you want one?”
Yoshi nods, deflated. “But don’t tell Tamiko, okay? I just… I thought it would be fun to have someone to play with.”
Denki considers that, leaning back into the pillows. “And the little brother?”
Yoshi leans into him. “So my cousin would have a best friend, you know? Cause they would be the same age.”
“You’re sweet,” Denki pulls him in and kisses the top of his head. “I’m not saying you’re not getting another sibling, ever, but not right now.”
“Why not?”
“Because we want to have enough time to have fun with you guys. And we might not have enough time and energy for three kids right now. And that wouldn’t be fun, right?”
“Right.” Yoshi’s quiet for a while. “Can we get a cat too?”
***
“I’m home,” Denki calls out at the door, kicking off his shoes. “Where are my favorite people?”
“I’m here!” Yoshi crashes into his legs, arms outstretched. “Did you save someone today?”
“Yep,” Denki pulls him up into his arms and rounds the corner to Tamiko racing her walker down the hallway. It’s bright yellow and adorned with bells that signal her incoming, so he catches her with ease, leaning in to let her pat his face.
“Daddy!” She craws out, peppering his face with kisses.
“Tamiko!” He repeats her name in the same tone, giggling when she laughs.
“Where’s Mommy?”
Tamiko starts to turn, a difficult maneuver that takes some time. Denki steps back to let her get to it and follows her down the hallway to the open bathroom door.
“Are we disturbing something?” Denki asks, holding Tamiko back from coralling right into your legs.
“Nah,” you laugh, “Thanks for giving me five minutes to myself.”
“Anytime.” He waits until you’ve washed your hands before dipping in for a kiss. “Also, I ordered take-out.”
“Oh, I love you.”
“I know. I love you more.”
“Daddy,” Tamiko pats her plate with both hands. “Daddy?”
“Yes, Princess?”
“I’m going to be a hero one day.”
“You are?” Denki leans in. “Pray tell. What name are you going to have?”
“Princess.”
“Great name,” he decides, before filling her plate. “Careful, it’s full. You’ve got your spoon? Yeah, there’s the plate. Great job.”
“If you’re going to be a hero, I’m going to be a hero too,” Yoshi declares from the other end. “Who’s going to protect you?”
Tamiko squeaks in agreement. “And Daddy too.”
“And Daddy too,” you agree. “I’m going to be so safe. Three heroes in my family.”
“You’re not a hero?” Yoshi asks, confused. “What are you?”
“A grown-up,” you declare with a wink. “They’re even more powerful than heroes.”
“No way,” Yoshi breathes. “I want to be a grown-up too.”
“Me too!” Tamiko slams her spoon into her plate to emphasize her point. “Me too.”
Denki sighs. “Outnumbered once again.”
“I don’t want him to become a hero,” you breathe quietly into the night, your head on his chest.
Denki blinks himself awake, rubs his thumb into the tension of your shoulders. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you’re quiet for a moment. “Not because I don’t think he could do it. He’s got the heart, and I’m sure he’s going to have a talent.”
“Because Tamiko’s going to follow him wherever he goes?”
“Because I know how hard it can be,” you disagree, shifting. He can feel you staring at him. “I know you’re always extra cheerful on the hard days.”
Denki sighs. “Can’t bring the darkness back home. I just… I can’t let it touch them.”
“I know, Denki, I know. This is my way of protecting them.”
“It’s going to find them anyway,” he admits to himself. You must have known already, because you don’t shudder at the thought.
“Don’t encourage them,” you ask of him still. “Please.”
He kisses you, hoping to ease the worry. “I won’t. I promise.”
***
Hospital hallways always look the same, Denki finds. He just wishes they’d feel the same, too. Oh, how he craves that wired anticipation of their first birth, that punch-drunk feeling of winning at life of their second.
This is different.
This is ice running through his veins, and worry heavy on his back.
“He’s okay,” you claim, trying to keep Tamiko in her seat. But little Tamiko is acting just as erratically as he is, so he grabs her by the arms and walks her down the hallway, up and down, and up and down, until the news are in.
Two broken bones, one arm, one leg.
“A very brave boy, you have here,” the doctors say. “Probably saved someone’s life today.”
“I was being a hero,” Yoshi explains. “Like Dad.”
And you don’t quite throw Denki a look, but he feels it, a shot right through the heart. Because little Yoshi is only seven years old, but he’s already felt it. The danger, the hardship of being a hero.
“Listen,” Denki slips into Yoshi’s bed at night, just able to fit one ass-check and a leg onto the mattress. “You’ve been really brave today.”
“I have, haven’t I?” Yoshi asks, staring at his leg in a cast, propped up on a pillow. His broken arm rests in a sling over his chest, a little annoying when he wants nothing but to pick up his sister or his toy.
“But you also worried us a lot.”
“Why?” Yoshi blinks. “I did something good.”
“I know. But we love you. We don’t want you to get hurt.”
“But you get hurt too,” Yoshi reminds him. “Remember?”
Denki falters. “Yeah. And I don’t like getting hurt. But I like you getting hurt even less.”
“What do you mean? Should I not have helped the girl?” Yoshi’s face is open, and Denki knows, whatever he says now will shape him for years to come.
He’s not equipped for this level of talk. This is your job, the job of a grown-up.
He pauses, involuntarily looking for you, and finds you in the doorframe, arms folded in a way that tells him you don’t want him to leave.
“Why did you help that girl?” Denki asks. “Why not call a grown-up?”
“Cause she was hurt,” Yoshi says, like it’s just that easy. “And I was thinking about Tamiko. When she’s hurt, she likes to be held. So I ran to hold her. Just until a grown-up could come help.”
Denki pauses once more. He cannot fault that logic. Nothing Yoshi did was wrong.
“Wasn’t I being a hero?” Yoshi asks, insecurity now audible in his voice.
“You were,” you say from the doorway, your voice quiet but steady. “But being a hero is hard. Some heroes don’t come home again, because they get hurt too badly.”
Yoshi stiffens, and his good hand shoots out to grab at Denki, to hold him, as if he might leave right now and never return.
“But you’re going to come home again, right?”
“I will always try my best,” Denki promises, with a heart too heavy to lie. “Cause I love you so much, I’d never want to stay away. Cause I always want to help the people who need it. Just like you wanted to help the girl, right?”
Yoshi considers it. Denki can tell it’s too heavy a subject for him now, so he leans in and brushes his hair out of his face and kisses his cheeks and nose and forehead.
“Go to bed, big brother, you. You did good today, and you’ll do good tomorrow.”
“And I’ll be a hero,” Yoshi adds quietly. “Cause I help the people who are hurt.”
“And you’ll be a hero,” Denki agrees. “But more importantly, you’ll be our kid.”
umm hiii i love ur work hehe,, i would like to ask umm can u write this prompt? doesn't have to be long or complicated, would like to see ur take on it ,,,
kaminari x fem!woc!reader,,, college!au, smoking weed tgt, he calls her mama/mommy (nsx, not agere but idm if it is) - just destressing together,,, cuddles and maybe watching movies tgt </3 if any of that makes u uncomfy feel free to exclude it, or ignore this req!
,,, can i be 🪶 or 🦌 anon? ♡
oooo ofc !! i was just thinking abt a subby!kami x reader the other day so this is perfect !!! ( ^ O ^ ) /" ⋆˙♡
𐔌 unwinding with baby ₊˚ ♡
︵︵ notes: subby!denki x reader, sfw, smoking, college!au, fluffy fluff, somewhat implied age dreaming, implied neurodivergence, weirdos dni, "mama" + "mommy" nicknames, this was written rlly quickly but itll be edited soon!
︵︵ word count: 938
a babyish whine leaves your throat as you stare at your laptop, sitting at the round table in your dorm. you weren't expecting to see a "c+" on your latest essay. it's not bad, but it's not good either. most of your stupid professors don't round up when grading, leaving you with a bland 79.63%. you huff out a gust of air, staring at the screen blankly as you frustratedly tug at the skin on your lip.
just then you hear a rhythmic knock on your door to the melody of "wannabe" by the spice girls, a giddy smile quickly replacing your sulky pout. you climb out your chair, hurrying over to the door that swings open to reveal kaminari with his hands full with bags. "hayy!" he greets you with a dorky grin. "what'd you get on your paper?"
you sigh, "don' wanna talk about it,"
he hums with a tiny pout before lifting one of the bags and pulling out a tiny ziploc filled with weed, bringing it up in front of his face. "wellll look what i gottt!" he sings cheerfully. you giggle, gesturing your head for him to come inside.
denki wasn't your boyfriend by any means. he wasn't just a friend either. you two were more like best friends with.. certain benefits.
he gives you a quick peck on the cheek as he steps in. you watch as he brings the bags onto your countertop, his black jeans sagging boyishly. you hum perkishly, swinging around to the other side of the counter. he pulls out junk food and typical sleepover necessities. "dickhead aizawa gave me a D.." kami whines, throwing the plastic bags with a huff. you pout somewhat mockingly, grabbing his hand and leading him to the couch.
"he's not a dickhead, you love him, remember?" you tease, grabbing the baggy from your friend. he sighs dramatically, throwing his head back as he pulls out a joint from his back pocket, dropping it into your hand. you can already see signs of kami feeling a little younger today. the junk food, name calling, and how he's clinging to your arm like a baby.
when you finish rolling the joint, you turn to a patiently waiting denki. you stare at him blankly, batting your eyelashes unintentionally. he tilts his head to the side with an adorable look of confusion. you take the first puff of weed, exhaling with satisfaction. you moan with relief, passing the stick to the grungy boy with a gentle "here, baby". he happily accepts, taking his hit with ease.
you play with his pretty mustard-yellow hair slowly, tenderly pushing him into a relaxed headspace. denki practically purrs at the smoke making its way to his lungs, his head going fuzzy. after a few puffs, he's babbling about a new show he's watching and why it's so good. he takes his time explaining why each of the characters are perfect yet so different.
a few minutes pass, and he's stoned. most of your friends who've never smoked with kaminari assume that he's even louder and hyper than usual, but it's the opposite (at first). he's gentler and soft, snuggling into your side as drool spills past his lip. the tv is playing the show he was talking about on low volume, the joint dumped into an ashtray.
"m hungry mama," he whispers. every time your best friend gets into a small zone, he's cautious, always worried that for some reason you may think he's weird, although you've been with him as he's little more times than you can count. your hand petting his hair goes idle as you lean down to meet his red eyes. you coo, poking his squishy cheek. "i'll grab the snacksss..!" you grin, poking him again before standing up, your large girly blanket wrapped around you.
"um.. bring juice please!" he calls out to you, stretching his legs out on the couch.
you reuturn seconds later with a cup of juice and the junk food he'd brought. careful not to spill any juice, (no one likes a cranky baby), you plop down on the couch, pull the snacks from their bags, and hand kami the juice. he thanks you quietly, both hands wrapping around his pikachu cup as he takes a sip.
you grab the remote, getting comfy on the sofa again before exiting the show that was playing to scroll through your streaming services. "whaddya wanna watch?" you smile lovingly, affectionately sliding his black sweater off his shoulders to provide less stimulation. he hums thankfully with a shrug before suddenly perking up out of the blue.
without any previous signs, he unintentionally slams his cup on the table before jumping up on the couch, both hands fisted into balls and cheering, "les watch bolt!!"
stifling a sleepy yawn, you use your sleeve to dab at drops of spilled juice, the effects of the weed and your exhausting day weighing heavily on you.
"put bolt on mommy!!!" denki whines impatiently, dropping himself next to you.
you giggle, pressing the buttons on the remote as quickly as you can. "i am, i am!"
the next hour and a half is spent watching denki's beloved childhood movie with loud shushes whenever you make a sound and even louder reactions from him whenever something big happens on screen. you can't help but wonder how the weed hadn't toned down his bubbly energy, though you don't mind at all. by the time the movie's done, you two had drifted asleep, clinging to each other tightly as scattered chips litter your bodies... you have a bit of cleanup to do tomorrow.
hehjsmw thanks for posting that list of characters cause I was debating sending one in but like I wasn’t sure if someone already asked for him
Could I ask for endlessly with the loml Denki Kaminari?
It was the thunder that disoriented you. A steady rumble that turned to heavy roaring in your ears, rattling your skull and leaving you- well. You'd assumed you'd fallen to the ground and covered your head, had done your best to piece thoughts back together while you waited for the thunder to stop.
Instead... maybe you'd kept walking? Maybe you'd fallen, or- you wince, rubbing at your bleary eyes again, but you're still seeing the same thing.
Lightning strikes, endlessly, behind the shield of dark purple clouds around the mountain. You've seen it for years, heard the tales... but the male figure standing in the midst of the storm? He's real.
"How?" You breathe, and you can't imagine that he can hear you over the thunder, over the sizzle of electricity hitting him repeatedly, but he... he turns towards you.
You can't even turn before an arc of lightning hits behind you, a warning and a trap, all in one. A blink and then-
"Hey, are you lost out here? I can help! I know the way back!" He's a few steps away, no longer in the midst of the strikes, but still holding so much static charge that every hair on your body is prickling.
synopsis: you’re stuck working night shift while denki works days. whiny, needy denki is desperate for some action yo
t/w: nsfw 18+, somnophilia, thigh-fucking, handjob, cum shot, consent is implied but not explicitly given
soft smut
Kaminari Denki x Female Reader
Summary: reader has a massive scar taking up a lot of area on her torso that she hates
Hybrid rule 202: Never pull the bunny’s cottontail
Bunny Hybrid!Denki x fem!Reader
Wingman
Kaminari x afab!Reader
Summary: Kaminari has always been the wingman, but with you, he wants to be anything but...
Satisfaction (NSFW)
AgedUp!Denki x Unsatisfied!Reader
Summary: As a dominatrix, you start to miss the intimate and mutual part of sex. One late night after a little wine, your best friend Denki chooses to help you with your pent-up frustration.
Lesson Learned
Chargebolt x fem!Reader
Summary: You hope to teach a lesson to your boyfriend's Sidekick.
pro hero denki with his shy big tiddy goth gf
mommy knows best
stony!Denki x rich, attention-starved milf!Reader
Summary: your husband is absent (as always), and your son’s friend has his eye on you.
Never Mine
Kaminari Denki x Female Reader
Summary: You discover why your boyfriend has been acting differently as of late, much to your dismay.
summary: “L-look at you, humping the mattress l-like a bitch in heat,” you tease, using his own words against him. “Gonna cum for me, baby boy?”
pairing: denki kaminari x fem reader
wc: 1541
warnings: sub m, f!reader, domme reader, thigh riding, ‘princess’ as a title, oral (f recieving), roommates to fwb to lovers
a/n: for @httptamaki ’s subby boys collab! find the masterlist here <3 thank you to @angelashido for beta reading for me!
You fiddle with the hem of the black mesh panties of the matching set you had bought earlier on in the day. Denki should be home any minute. No doubt he’ll be a little out of it from work, but honestly? That might just work in your favour. Confidence hasn’t always been your strong suit, although since whatever this is between you and Famous Pro Hero Chargebolt started, it’s improved quite a bit. Being around him is like listening to an audiobook of Ulysses on repeat, as if he’s thinking out loud.
You shiver as you sit on the armchair in your apartment. Maybe this is too much, you think to yourself. Just as the thought crosses your mind to put on a pair of jeans and a sweater, Denki’s key slides into the lock. Well fuck, it’s now or never. You steel yourself in the few seconds you have before he opens the door and hope he can’t see from across the room how your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest.
“Heeeeell-” he starts. “Oh,” he finishes quietly, drinking in your form. He’s not subtle about eyeing the way the rose appliques tastefully cover your nipples. You swallow, and put on a figurative brave face.
“Long day?” you ask.
“Y-yeah, uh huh,” he answers, distracted by the way the elastic of your panties pinches the soft flesh of your hips.
“Thought... “ you clear your throat and reset yourself. “I thought you could use something to relieve some stress after your patrol.”
“Yup, sure,” he says, eyes trailing down to your thighs. He licks his lips.
“You’re not hearing a word I say, are you?”
“Nope,” he confirms. “Gimme.” Denki kicks his shoes off at the door and makes to take you by the waist. Hands gliding along your sides, he leans in to kiss you. You pull back. A sly smirk tugs at your lips.
“Ah, ah. I don’t think so,” you tut. Denki raises an eyebrow. “On the couch.” The order feels foreign in your mouth. Not a bad foreign, though. More like the first bite of a French macaron. To your surprise, the blond man obeys without question. “Gonna have to earn it.”
He watches, eyes wide, as you settle yourself on his lap, straddling his thigh. You take his wrists in your hands and hold them above his head. Your lips rove from his jaw, down his neck, down to his chest, leaving a trail of kisses and bites in their wake.
“What do you say, baby?” you ask.
“Y-yes, god yes, p-please,” he chokes out, pupils blown wide.
“Please, what?” you lead, slowly grinding against his thigh.
“Please let me earn it. Please, P-Princess, let me be a good boy for you,” he groans. You ghost your fingers over his clothed cock and feel it twitch under your touch.
“So eager already, and for what?” you say smugly. You release his hands and climb off of his lap. “Pants. Off. Now,” you demand.
“Y-yes, Princess!” Denki scrambles to unbuckle the utility belt of his hero costume. There’s nothing deft about his movement, not an ounce of grace left in the man. He tosses his pants and belt on the chair across the room and sits as he was again.
“Good boy,” you coo. You find your place on his lap again and grind down. He hisses at the friction of your knee nudging his balls through his boxers as you move. Your lips part and a soft moan falls from them. Denki’s hands drift down to your hips, unconsciously guiding them as he stares at the wet patch forming on your panties. You tap his cheek lightly twice and stop moving.
“Up here, baby,” you say, guiding his hands to your chest. Greedily, he takes your breasts in his hands, massaging and playing with them as if he’s never gotten the chance to before. “Flex your thigh for me, won’t you? That’s a good boy,” you sigh, leaning forward and rocking your clit against your roommate. At any other time if he had you like this, he’d tease you for acting like a bitch in heat, making you edge for him. The thought of turning the tables on him is delicious. You suck a dark spot on his neck to bite back a groan that Denki can feel in his throat as you cum. He runs his fingers through your hair, the softness of his touch making you lean into his hands.
“I wanna see you do that again,” he whispers.
“I’m not here to care about what you want,” you murmur back sweetly. For the first time this afternoon, you glide your hand up and down his clothed shaft. His hips buck up, sending you closer to his face. You bump your head against his, and giggle.
“You okay, Princess?” He kisses your forehead.
“Mhm, I’m fine, don’t worry.” You give him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Floor, please, baby,” you say, standing to let him follow your command. As he goes to sit on the floor you disappear from his view for a moment, only to return with your favourite toy. It’s thick, and a transparent yellow that reminds you of Kaminari’s electric hero persona. Your panties on the floor, your legs spread, and your roommate’s face the most delectable, deep shade of pink, you have everything where you want it.
Keeping your eyes locked onto Denki, you slide your hand between your open legs and rub your clit lightly once, twice, three times… You watch as his eyes follow your fingers. You slide your middle finger from the bottom of your slit to the top. Denki chokes on a groan seeing the string of your essence connecting your pussy to your finger when you pull away.
“Wanna touch, please, Princess. Can I taste? Y’look so delicious,” he begs.
“If you’re good and patient, baby,” you promise. You guide the dildo into yourself and bite your lip. Inch by agonizingly slow inch you take the toy up to the base. By the time you’re able to move it, your head’s thrown back and you’re only barely aware of Denki watching your every move with bated breath. Each time he goes to touch himself, he mentally swats away his own hand. Even when you’re in your own little world, he wants to be a good boy for you.
It’s not long until your second orgasm hits you. Your hips lift off of the couch and you whimper with a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The overstimulation of fucking yourself past your climax makes you mewl. Your eyes flutter open and you see Denki staring at you, jaw dropped. You run your thumb against your clit and groan. After all the hard work he puts in as a hero, you think he deserves a bit of a show.
“W-was so good, didn’t touch myself at all or nothing,” he pants. “Lemme taste you, please. I-I wanna taste you so bad, need it, please!” You nod. He scrambles to his feet and picks you up. “Wanna be comfy when I make you feel good,” he says, carrying you to his bedroom. He lays you down gingerly. “Can I take my clothes off?”
“Go ahead,” you affirm.
Within seconds Denki’s naked, lying on his stomach between your legs. With his tongue broad and flat, he licks a long stripe up your cunt. He moans into your skin.
“Taste so good, Princess. Better when you make me wait,” he mumbles. Another stroke of his tongue like the first, then a third before he delves into your hole. He brings his hand up around your thigh and flicks his thumb over your sensitive nub.
“F-fuck,” you whine. “S-such a good boy for me.” Denki whimpers at your praise, the vibrations going straight to your core. A loud moan escapes your lips. You lace your fingers in his hair and tug lightly. Hand firmly at the back of his head, you guide his lips to your clit. He seals them around it and sucks with a gentle hunger. His tongue flicks against you desperately.
“L-look at you, humping the mattress l-like a bitch in heat,” you tease, using his own words against him. “Gonna cum for me, baby boy?”
He nods into your sex, the extra friction making you choke out a sob. You feel yourself reaching the familiar precipice.
“C’mon baby, just a little more, just a -- j-just like that just like that!” you cry. Denki slides two large fingers into your velvet walls and curls them just right, the way that has you coming undone on him in seconds. He chokes out a sob as he cums, staining the sheets of his bed with white. He takes his time lazily cleaning up the evidence of your pleasure, peppering kisses along your thighs, to your hips, up your tummy, your chest, and finally ending with a tender kiss to your lips.
“Gonna have to wear that more often, sweetheart,” he murmurs, a grin plastered across his face. “I’ll be your good boy if you’ll be mine.”
“If I’ll be your what?” you ask, breathless. He places a sweet kiss on your nose.
