#denki

[aneclipseatdusk]

Drip Drop 💧

[tentypos]

chat this is my first ever kinktober post 😁🥳

it’s kinda gay but yeah mdni enjoy some soft!dom sero x whatever-the-fuck-denki-is x reader oneshot type shit idk the word count all ik is that im horny asf ENJOYYYY

“h-hanta?”

“hanta?” denki finds it so cute how out of it you are right now. “oh, no, baby. no, no, this is denki.”

he punctuates his name with another roll of his hips into your sweet, tight pussy. fuck, the way you’re gushing around him makes him suck his teeth with a hiss, eyes rolling for a second like he’s about to lose his grip.

“hanta?” is what you groan in reply, muffled into your pillow, drool leaking out the corner of your mouth.

denki barks out a laugh. he can’t see your face, but he can see the delicious arch of your back, the way your thighs tremble against the sheets. he digs his fingers harder into your waist just to watch you shiver. “y’know, sweets, i can’t tell if you’re trying to rile me up or…”

he slams his hips forward again, the wet smack echoing through your room.

“...or if i’ve fucked all the sense outta you already.”

you mumble something incoherent, barely a whisper, voice sticky-sweet and useless, but denki doesn’t let it go that easily.

“i don’t think i heard you right, sweets,” and his tone is so mocking, so sarcastic, so fucking breathless, like he’s trying to hold back a laugh, it makes your walls pulse and he replies with a hiss. “you wanna repeat that f’me?”

you suck in a deep breath, brace yourself up on shaky forearms so you’re not plastered face-down anymore.

and you would’ve thought denki was the one getting dicked down, the way he’s panting. eyes wide and glassy, pupils dilated, eyebrows scrunched like he’s trying to keep himself together. the way he’s trembling, swallowing his whimpers down like a bitch.

your voice is hoarse when you finally speak.

“i said you can’t fuck.”

denki stills instantly. and his mouth moves but no words form, like he can’t even fathom an answer, because what the fuck?

as if you weren’t screaming his name, not hanta’s, while riding his face almost an hour ago. he rolls his tongue across his teeth and he can still taste you on his gums. in the back of his throat. his eyes roll back at the memory, because you had absolutely loved him then.

and he made you come over and over and over again. real fucking orgasms. full body trembling, squirting all over his mouth, till you were dripping down his chin, type of orgasms.

and now, you have the audacity to say that denki kaminari can’t fuck?

“y’know what, where’s my phone?” he huffs, but you’re already pointing lazily at the dresser where he left it.

he scoffs again at your fucking audacity, but he can’t deny the way his dick twitches inside of you. because he’d be lying if he said that he doesn’t love the way you always know what you want.

“you want me to call him, right?” yeah he can complain all he wants, but even you can feel the way his cock is drooling inside you. because deep down, denki loves being told what to do. “that’s what you want? fine. i’ll fucking call the bastard, yeah.”

“thank youuu,” you sing back and send him the prettiest fucking dick drunk smile he’s ever seen, that he almost forgets himself, until the line picks up.

“dude, what the fuck do you want?”

sero’s voice filters through, a little crackly with distance and background traffic. the casual annoyance in his tone sends a spike of arousal straight through denki's gut.

you can tell, because his hips jerk on instinct, rocking slowly back into you. grinding subconsciously. like the slut he is.

“hello? bro? i’m gonna be like twenty minutes there’s—”

you roll your eyes. not in a sexy way. in pure exasperation. your thighs are sticky, clit aching, the itch you have has not yet been scratched, and now denki’s frozen in some sort of bisexual daze of arousal and can’t speak properly.

you snap your fingers at him, weakly but enough, that he blinks like he’s just woken up. coughs into the mic, “sorry, dude, i just— i need some assistance right now.”

denki’s fumbling with the cell. his palms are sweaty and he's trying to balance it in one hand while his other digs bruises into your hip. his gaze keeps dropping down to where you’re stretched around him, whimpers catching in his throat whenever he catches a glimpse of the milky wetness coating the base of his cock.

“put it on speaker,” you croak, throat raw, and gesture to the pillow beside your head.

he obeys immediately, phone thunking down beside you.

“hanta?” you murmur, soft, sweet, wrecked.

“hey, trouble.”

you pussy clenches at the sound of his voice, you can picture the way he’d grin and stroke down your back. and you’re sure denki can too, with the way he groans and shoves himself deeper inside you, knuckles white where he grips your sides.

“denki’s being mean.”

“wait— you guys started without me? you’re kidding?”

“bro, she came home begging to sit on my face?" denki’s voice cracks, half defensive, half smug. his hips stutter as he says it, like he’s trying to prove the point with the way he buries himself deeper into you. "was i supposed to say no?”

there’s a pause on the line, a rush of wind and muffled traffic noise before sero’s voice cuts back in, lazy and low. “and how long were you eating her out?”

denki snorts, shaky, sweat dripping down his temple. “i dunno? how the fuck am i meant to—shit—ngh— remember that?" he’s gesturing even as he says it, palm slapping against your hip for emphasis, nearly knocking the phone off the pillow. "you think i’m checking the fucking clock while munching?”

you groan into the sheets, too gone to lift your head, but the speaker crackles again with sero’s dry laugh before he asks, “ok… how many times did you make her cum?”

denki hesitates, breath hitching as your cunt squeezes around him. “ummm, maybe twice—”

your voice, hoarse but clear, cuts in without lifting from the pillow: “—three times.”

denki groans, tips his head back with a dramatic roll of his eyes, and huffs into the phone, “she’s saying three.”

sero chuckles into the receiver, and the air in the room feels heavier. denki’s brows are drawn tight as he trying to focus on the other guy's words and not get lost in the sensation of you clamping around his cock like a fucking vice.

“and lemme guess?” sero drawls through the crackle of speakerphone, the hum of his car engine faint underneath his voice. “you creamed yourself while you was eating, so now you’re hella sensitive.”

denki chokes on a breath, hips faltering mid-thrust. his hair sticks to his forehead, sweat dripping down his jaw. “yeah—uhh—ngh— no shit.” he sounds ruined, whining into the back of your shoulder like admitting it makes him ache more.

sero laughs low, warm and condescending. “rookie mistake. now she’s gonna be all hungry for dick, and i bet she said you’re not fucking her properly.”

your nails dig crescents into the sheets. something about the way they're talking about you like you're not even there, has your pussy drooling.

denki groans, offended, chest heaving against your back. “which really hurt my feelings, by the way.”

“nahhh,” sero’s voice drops half an octave, and you can hear the grin in it even through static. “don’t take it personal. you know what you’re good for.”

denki jerks his head up, glaring down at the phone like it personally insulted him as he whines out. “dude, stop talking like that.”

“awhhh,” sero coos, mock-sweet. “am i making it worse?”

denki’s thrusts stutter, his face twisted tight with frustration. “stop it.”

there’s a pause, then sero’s tone sharpens. “you try putting your fingers in her mouth yet?”

denki sputters, cock aching at sero’s words.. “how am i supposed to put my fingers in her mouth, and play with her clit, and rub her nipples—” his voice cracks on a moan, his hips rutting forward helplessly. “i only have two hands.”

you choke out a laugh, wrecked and shaky, while sero chuckles deep and smug. “he’s got a point. baby, you are super high maintenance.” his voice is aimed at you now, sliding down your spine like silk.

denki mutters, breathless, “see? this is a two-man job. hurry up and get home.”

sero hums, and you can hear his blinker clicking faintly in the background. “you’re gonna keep edging yourself until i get there?”

denki’s head falls forward, his lips brushing your ear as he groans, “if you want me to?”

there’s a beat of silence. then sero’s voice, steady and cruel and sweet all at once:

“good boy. i’ll see you in five.”

[myheromedia]

[cupidkats]

𝓽𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝓪 𝓭𝒓𝒖𝒈 𝓭𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓 ﹕ ⠀ denki kaminari.

smau. profanity & sarcasm. gn! reader (i think). mention of drugs and (obviously) dealing drugs. flirting. drinking & drunk texting. slightly mentioned bsf! jirou. maybe ooc! denki.

[seumyo]

KAMINARI DENKI ✰ 6:50

Kaminari didn’t mean to sit near the veterans (though he could consider himself a veteran as well; he used “veterans” as a loose term for his more... traditional coworkers) during lunch break, but by the time he realized he’d picked the wrong table in the break room, his bento was already open, and his curry rice was still steaming.

He kept his eyes on his food, hoping maybe they’d be too busy talking about grown-up things like taxes or real estate to notice him.

And then it came. Because he can’t outrun the inevitable, he knows.

“So… when’s the wedding, Kaminari?”

Kaminari looked up mid-bite, the corners of his lips smudged with rice, eyes blinking owlishly. His brain took a full three seconds to catch up to the question itselr.

“...Huh?”

“You and your girl,” Morita-san said with a grin. He was in his late forties, wore suspenders like a badge of honor, and had the voice of a man who drank way too much vending machine coffee. “What was her name again? [Wrong Name]?”

“[Name],” he corrected, then blinked. “Wait—wait, what?”

Satou-san, across from Morita, nodded as she stirred her miso soup. “You brought her to the New Year’s party, right? Sweet girl. Very polite. She brought those chocolate-dipped strawberries.”

“She made those herself,” Kaminari told them before he could stop himself. He just can’t help it. He’s kind of a brag when it comes to you. “Used to work part-time in a patisserie while studying her program.”

“She a teacher?” Honda-san asked, cracking open a can of iced tea.

“Yeah,” he replied, loosening up slightly. “Preschool teacher. Works with the three- and four-year-olds.”

Morita chuckled, pointing a finger at him. “And you’re letting that girl get away without putting a ring on her? Come on, kid. She’s a keeper.”

“Three and a half years, right? You’re not that young anymore,” Satou added.

He blinked again.

...

“I’m twenty-one.”

“Exactly,” Morita said. “That’s old enough to know what you want. What’re you waiting for?”

Was twenty-one way too old of an age to get married nowadays?

“I dunno,” he said, a bit sheepish. “We’re just… not in a rush?”

“You live together, don’t you?” Satou asked.

“Yeah.”

“She do your laundry?”

“Uh, no. We take turns. Or we forget. Sometimes we both run out of socks, and we have to improvise.”

Honda laughed. “Sounds like marriage to me.”

“She cook for you?”

“When she’s not exhausted from her class, yeah. But I do the breakfast shift. I’m the pancake guy.”

“So you’re sharing chores. Living together. Dating long-term. All that’s missing is a ring and a shared health insurance policy,” Morita declared with certainty, cutting through his karaage.

Kaminari looked around helplessly. “Guys, I don’t think that’s how this works!”

“It’s how we did it,” Satou told him gently. “Well, except for the part where my ex thought meal prepping meant ordering enough takeout for leftovers.”

“I’m not saying rush into it,” Morita continued. “But when you’ve already built a life together, marriage just makes things simpler. Legal protections, financial benefits. Plus—” He leaned in conspiratorially. “You secure the good one before some other idiot realizes how amazing she is.”

“She’s not gonna leave me for someone else,” Kaminari muttered. Though the thought did keep him up at night more often.

“Not saying she will,” Morita replied. “I’m saying you’re making her wait when she might already be ready.”

The conversation spiraled from there. Stories of weddings in backyards, weddings in shrines, courthouse signings, and destination elopements (as if Kaminari even had the heart of denying your parents the privilege of attending your wedding, knowing well how they took good care of you and welcomed him)—Kaminari just sat there, utterly consumed by his thoughts.

These people weren’t just married—they were married with layers. Kids. Exes. Tax brackets. Joint mortgages.

Eventually, Kaminari finished his curry in silence and retreated to the operations center, mind spinning.

So this must be the life of an intern sidekick on the road to becoming an independent pro.

He kept thinking about it all day. In the middle of reviewing camera footage from a B-rank break-in case, he found himself staring off at the screen, thinking about the way you leaned against him during movie nights or how you always hummed his favorite game’s OST when you folded laundry. The way your nose scrunched when you concentrated on lesson planning. How you made space for both his thoughts and ideas and yours.

He did want to marry you. Of course he did. He’s never been more sure and absolute about something.

But it wasn’t about rushing it. It was about finding the right moment.

But maybe—just maybe—he didn’t need to wait for some grand romantic signal.

And there were a lot of buts and what-ifs—it’s making his head hurt.

That night, he found you in the kitchen, barefoot in your pajamas, a hand on your hip while the other stirred leftover miso into a pot. The scent of sesame and scallions wafting around the apartment made his stomach quietly growl.

You looked up with a smile. As always.

“Hey, babe. You look tired. Was it a rough patrol?”

“Nah,” he said, kicking off his shoes and walking up behind you. “Just… lunch was intense.”

“Oh no. Did Morita-san corner you again?”

“Worse. Morita-san and Satou-san. Whole lunch table.”

You giggled, passing him a spoon. “Taste this.”

He did. “Ooh. Yup. That’s good.”

“They ask about me?”

“Yup.”

“They ask when we’re getting married?”

“You knew?”

“Baby, Satou-san cornered me in the bathroom at the New Year’s party.”

Kaminari gasped quietly. “What?”

“She asked if I was secretly pregnant. I told her no, and she looked disappointed.”

Kaminari groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “God, they’re relentless.”

“They’re just traditional,” you told him, shrugging as you turned off the stove. “Most of them got married young. They don’t really get the ‘let’s take our time’ thing.”

Kaminari leaned against the counter. “Do you get it?”

You paused, then looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… are you waiting? Like… do you want to get married soon?”

You tilted your head. “I wouldn’t mind it. I mean, we’re already doing everything people do when they’re married. Waking up together, eating together, laundry, dishes, comforting each other when we’re exhausted.” You smiled at the fact. “If we got married tomorrow, it wouldn’t change much. It’d just… make it more official.”

Kaminari stared at you. He suddenly pictured you in a soft cream dress, barefoot in a flower field, laughing at something he said. Or maybe not barefoot in a flower field, but something that you’d want to do. Somewhere you’d want to be. With him. Not a wedding so much as a moment. A feeling.

“You make everything feel easy,” he said honestly.

You hummed. “That’s because I love you, dork.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you close. “Okay. But just so you know… I do wanna marry you.”

You smiled in his arms. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Not ‘cause they told me to. ‘Cause I figured it out while watching a security feed of a guy stealing vending machine snacks.”

You laughed. “Romantic.”

“The most. But, you know… not tomorrow. Or next week. Maybe after this patrol cycle. And after I get the raise. And maybe when I can afford a ring that doesn’t scream ‘intern salary.’”

You leaned back a bit and kissed his cheek. “Take your time. I already know how this ends.”

He chuckled. “With me forgetting to do the laundry and you marrying me anyway?”

“Exactly.”

He buried his face in your shoulder and smiled. 

Okay. Maybe the big day wasn’t tomorrow. But it was coming. He promises you that. And if anything, Kaminari always kept his promises.

SEUMYO © 2026. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[rueclfer]

it was a late weekend evening when you first took notice of denki's love language.

the credits had just started rolling after your impromptu movie night in the common room where absolutely no-one paid attention, but instead spent the whole two hours talking and catching up.

it was the point of the night where the lights had come back, several people had bid their goodnights, and the rest of you stayed behind to chat and clean up.

"i hope you guys had a terrible time without me," denki announces.

you whip your head around and see him stepping away from the closing elevator with a textbook under his arm and a fountain drink from the local fast food chain cupped under his fingers.

he sets the book and drink on the counter as he walks past, and falls right into hanta- half of his dead weight dragging him down by the neck.

"yeah we spent the entire time talking about you," he strains, trying to peel denki off of him, "and gossip about shit you're not allowed to know.

denki lightly shoves hanta away and goes around the room. group hugs with hitoshi and eijirou. pats on the head for mina. elaborate handshakes for kyoka.

when he gets to you, he shyly slides up against the wall and leans his side against the surface. you cock your head to the side to meet his eye.

"stayed up to say goodnight?" he teases.

"we were just up talking about the movie," you shrug, "you missed out."

his face immediately scrunches in annoyance.

"you and me." he inches in and motions back and forth with his finger, "the second i catch you in these halls tomorrow morning, i'm stealing you for a debrief. got it?"

you take it in closer, making the smirk on his face grow wider.

"maybe if you're up early enough," you push yourself off of the wall, "goodnight, denki."

a moment passes where the both of you remain unmoving and mere inches from touching noses. a shy smile grows on your face, and his gaze darts between your lips and eyes. his palms go sweaty in the pocket of his hoodie.

you go for the hug first. bold and unlike you, but you take the chance anyways. from how close you two were standing, he almost thought you were coming in for a kiss- which he quietly cursed himself for even thinking.

"oh, fuck," slips out of denki's mouth the moment you've gone cheek-to-cheek.

his arms wrap around your waist just as quickly as yours went around his neck. he doesn't hesitate to pull you in closer and bury his nose in your shoulder.

"see you tomorrow," you mutter, patting his shoulder.

he hangs onto you for another moment and mutters an incoherent sentence into your neck before letting you pull away.

you glance up to his face to see his pink cheeks and signature wobbly smile. despite separating, your bodies were just as hot as it was pressed against one another.

"if you got any monsters under your bed, you know where i am," he says through a shy smile, a hand still lingering at your side.

"hmm," you hum, "didn't take you as a cuddler."

a beat of silence passes where he just smiles at you.

"find out anytime."

[skiiyoomin]

thank you for doing the last smau with the MHA boys getting into a fight because of you! can I request another smau with telling them "don't get mad okay"?

ღ"Don't get mad okay?"

ʚft.Deku, Bakugou, Shoto, Kirishima, Denki, Shinsou

ʚCont: crack⤑Back to navigation