taishiro "fat gum" toyomitsu x size difference x fem!reader
word count: 3.1k
contains: size difference, choking, blow jobs, fingering, pro hero related emotional trauma, slight pain kink, belly bulge💖
a/n: soft fat gum sex because he deserves to be loved in all of his forms💖💖💖💖
kinktober II: multiplayer masterlist
Fat Gum came in the door and was aggravated. The mission didn’t go well, and with the extra paperwork due to poor decision making on his intern's part, he didn’t get a chance to shower while they were still cleaned and not filled with the musky sweat of others. He didn’t expect to have to break up a fight between Kirishima and his boyfriend at his office on the way out the door either. While he might have laughed it off and sent them on their way, today their boisterous attitudes just compounded his sour mood.
Tomorrow he was going to have Kirishima and Tamaki spar quirkless until they passed out. Fat Gum just wants to go home and relieve his stress. Taking a thorough shower, getting into his house clothes, and probably falling asleep with you in his arms. His plan for when he got home was something he was set on, but when he saw you everything changed. You must have just gotten out of the shower you took before he came back home, your hair was still damp, sticking to your neck and forehead, and he could smell the lavender soap coming from your body and hints of the eucalyptus trailing through the apartment from the bathroom.
He thought “shower eucalyptus” was a weird purchase when he first saw it but it’s become one of his favorite parts of showering at home. You knew that he loved it, because he was always the one who bought fresh eucalyptus to replace. He saw you in the kitchen making him a protein smoothie, adding in his favorite fruits to hide the spinach and kale that he hates but knows he needs, in addition to a curry simmering away on the stovetop.
The combination of all of these things, the consideration you take in caring for him, the way you try to find small things to make his life a little more comfortable, helping him in small ways with his pro hero career. You are always acutely aware of him and his lifestyle, always trying to find small acts of service or lifestyle changes and he can’t even articulate how much appreciates you. Appreciates how respectful and understanding you have always been with him the entirety of your relationship.
His anger and annoyance faded into just sheer affection for you. Wanting to find comfort in your arms, melting into one of the only people he could truly be comfortable with, regardless of his form. You were surprised to find his strong arms wrapping around your torso, rather than hearing him call out his entrance. Before you could turn around and ask /is everything ok/ or /how patrol was/ he had buried his face in the crook of your neck with an aggravated groan that answered your unspoken questions.
You gave him a quick acknowledgement “Welcome home, Taishiro,” before using the blender to finish his smoothie. The blending was done and you are left unsure of what to do because you can’t reach any of the cabinets to grab a cub without moving. He recognizes your hesitation and uses his long arms to reach up and grab a random glass without even moving his head. You could tell that it was a bad day before but now you know that it is worse than normal.
“Love, let’s get you into the shower huh? You can have the smoothie now and the curry will be done after.” He lets you guide him into the shower with him still clinging to your back. The water can’t get hot enough, not hot enough to get the feeling of failure and annoyance out of his body. He took almost twice as long in the shower, but he still felt the remnants of dirt and blood on his body. Taishiro wanted to be back in your arms because he knew you were here for him, it was something he could rely on and your touch always brought small waves of relief.
You had stayed in the bedroom sitting in an office chair waiting for him to get out of the shower. Hoping that he would be a little more open after following through with his routine. He had left the smoothie on the bathroom counter. Long forgotten to him but to you, it was just an additional sign that Taishiro was having a bad day.
He didn’t say anything while he dried off and changed into a pair of boxer briefs and shorts. You watched him walk over to the bed and take a second to appreciate the freshly changed sheets and fluffed pillows. There is a soft smile on his lips as he drags his hand over it. You do your best to provide him with any source of comfort or safety when you know that days have been bad but today it doesn’t seem to be working too well. It’s fine, you know that sometimes his brain and body just need the time and reassurance that everything is fine.
He perches himself on the bed so there is the least amount of skin in contact with the sheets and leaves his head hanging down with his hands crossed. You didn’t do anything until he spoke in a tone that was almost always reserved for aftercare, asking you to come over to him.
Words almost always came easily to him, so hearing him so soft and unsure you take what he says with the weight that it deserves. Him sounding broken is such a foreign concept to you, your strong and reliable boyfriend, so you prepare to deal with the worst. You come over and stand in front of him, trying to decide on if you should touch him, or sit next to him, not wanting to exacerbate his situation. You end up on your knees so you’re almost at eye level. “‘Shiro, we don’t have to talk about it, but what can I do to help? I just don’t want to make it worse.” The concern in your tone makes him melt, sure, his friends and peers checked up on him after rough missions but rarely did people genuinely see him, him not just a shield or battering ram that blows and bad thoughts bounce off of. You were different, you always treated him like a person with feelings not just the happy-go-lucky persona he portrays.
His hands reach up to your face and hover just a few centimeters before he cups your cheeks and pulls you into a kiss. Your hands wrap around one of his fingers, knowing that at the very least, that his hands seem to be a safe place to touch. “Just want you. You make it better” The words are mumbled against your lips and almost inaudible. Your response is slow, wanting to let him melt into the kiss before pulling away.
“You’ll let me know if anything I do is too much right babe?” Even if Taishiro doesn’t want to talk about whatever is bothering him from patrol he is obviously upset and not knowing the cause makes it harder to treat the symptoms. You don’t want to say something or push a button you didn’t even know was there. He smiles down at you. His large size dwarfs you even if he isn’t at his biggest. In fact he is a lot smaller than what he normally stays at which just lends to the fact that something went wrong at work. He knows you have questions dancing in your mind but are putting Taishiro first and not asking for Fat Gum and for that he is eternally grateful.
He gives you a slow nod and you can see the relief in his eyes at not being pushed for answers he doesn’t have. You crawl into the space between his legs that he left open for you. Your lips are back on his in an instant, but there's nothing fast about the kiss itself. Slow, sensual and done to drown in each other and forget the rest of the world. You can feel the tension in the air slowly ebbing away and your hands on his cheeks move slowly into his hair and base of the neck.
His groan is quiet but you can tell by the way he's leaning into the touch and kissing with more fervor that you are on the right track. The neck is a mere stopping point to you trailing fingers down his back and resting it on his thigh. His breath hitches and he leans forward just a bit suddenly, just enough to clack your teeth together painfully. You can’t help the innate reaction of tightening the fist in his hair, afraid of falling backwards.
Taishiro was always gentle with you, especially in this form, maybe frantic or rushed at times but always touching with care and consideration that you might break. Pain for him on the other hand, he was literally built to take it. Based on the glazed over eyes and the tip of his tongue peaking out of his swollen lips is evidence enough that now is one of those times and you thread your fingers through his hair slowly before gripping it tight. The hand resting on his thigh rubs soft circles into the fat providing a soft contradiction to the sharp pinpoint pain in his scalp.
His lifted hips are an invitation to remove his shorts, to progress a little further. You didn’t really realize how into kissing he was until you heard the slap of his thick cock against his abs and the hiss from his throat that follows. Sitting back on your haunches you can see Taishiro getting back into his head, the sight of his bruised smaller body just a reminder of his failure earlier today. Tension rebuilding as the heat from your touch fades, his gaze directed at nothing.
“Hey, hey, hey,” your hands return to his cheeks and there's a momentary flinch but with a shaky breath he leans in, placing a kiss into your palm, “I promise I’m not going anywhere. Let me take care of you.” He nods into your hands as he blushes from the soft kisses you leave on his temples.
Pushing his shoulders back to give you space, your too small hands move to grasp at the base of his cock, just barely managing to wrap around it before guiding it towards your face. A kiss left on his head has him twitching in your hands. He can't actully see your face but the precum covered lips pulled into a smirk is always plaguing the back of mind when you are on your knees in front of him.
You swirl your tongue around the dripping head and look up at him with the biggest innocent doe eyed look you can as you tilt your head to the side and lick up and down his shaft trailing thick veins and following your mouth back up with your hands. Years of practice means you know how he likes to be touched like this, how you’d originally thought it would be a duller sensation just to learn it was the exact opposite when he was a panting twitching mess the first time you touched him in this form. It is physically impossible for you to take more than the head of him in your mouth in his fat form but that just means you can focus all of your attention on the sensitive pink flesh while your hands move absentmindedly.
You situate yourself at the tip of his dick, lips just grazing his slit with a ghosting touch. “Go ahead. Use me,” punctuating your statement with a kiss. He’s hesitant at first. A slow roll of his hips barely moving in your mouth but the sheer volume leaves you gagging. Humming around him encourages him to really listen to your request, to *use* you. To take control you are freely giving him and using your entire body to get himself off and out of his head until you are choking on his cum.
It hurts, it always does when Taishiro does this. Every small shift knocks the breath out of you until your hands falter, one falling to play with his balls and the other trailing the sensitive veins with a burning ghosting touch. It doesn’t matter how sore your throat is the scratch in your voice, no, none of it matters when you can feel the precum sliding down your throat and hear him cooing down at you. Every little good girl and just like that ruins you in the best way possible. You would take an innumerable amount of pain if it meant that he would feel better.
The low groans coming from his mouth and the twitching of his thighs are indication enough that his orgasm is close. His hand presses down on your head with enough force to guide you but not keep you there. Tears streaming down your face as you are pressed as far down as you can manage to swallow around him until he shoots down your throat with a groan.
You can feel a little more of his cock slide into your throat as he’s basking in his afterglow. Looking up at him, you can tell he’s shrunk down a little bit, much closer to his slim form than he was before. The adrenaline pulsing through his body must have finally calmed down and it resulted in his form deflating to its current status.
Wiping the back of your hand against your mouth you stand up and give him a soft kiss on the mouth. It conveys all of the love and admiration you have for him but also coaxes out whatever is bothering him, a reminder that you love him and aren’t going to judge him for whatever he thinks is his fault.
He lifts you up by your thighs and sit against the headboard, all the while kissing you gently. “Can I take care of you now, buttercup?” You look at him for a moment, trying to decide if you want to pus him on his day but the haunted look in his eye advises you against it. Maybe before bed, but right now, in this instance, he isn’t ready and needs to have a purpose. If that purpose is getting you off, so be it.
After you nod in agreement, he turns you around so your back is against his chest. His large fingers gently pull your shorts and underwear down and you remove your top at the same time.
You can feel Taishiro’s attentive gaze on your body when you lay back against him. It’s no longer nerve-wracking because there is nothing your body could ever do or look like that he would judge you for. He loves you, not your body. Well, he does love it, but that’s beside the point.
He positions your legs over his thighs so you are open for the taking. Your cunt is already slick from the excitement of giving him a blow job in his bigger form. The size difference scratches something in your brain that probably shouldn’t be there. Nonetheless, anytime you can get your hands on him in that form is a good time for you.
One of his hands cups a good portion of your chest while his thumb flicks at your nipple. Your head falls back with a soft whine and he chuckles at how easy you fall apart for him. If that didn’t boost his ego then the absolute pornographic noise you made when his ring finger slides up your slit is. He’s still big enough that taking most of his fingers would be difficult without preparation. That doesn’t stop him from rubbing at your clit and watching slick pool on the bed until he thinks you’re as wet as possible.
He knows you want him and he knows that you like just a little bit of pain, so there’s no hesitation when he starts rubbing his pinky against your hole. It feels massive, larger than some of the men you’ve slept with before but you are more than ready. Your hips buck up attempting to get it to catch, but anytime you miss it just hits your clit again and leaves you just a little more desperate and sloppy in your actions
He gives in on the fifth try because he can’t stand the desperation in your moan, not when it would be so so easy for him to give you what you want. Just a little push forward and your body tenses at the stretch. It hurts, but the soft baritone of his course rumbling all around you and the warmth of his hand on your torso works you through it. He pushes in a little bit deeper on each thrust until he’s hitting the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.
One of your hands comes down to your stomach and presses down with a moan. “Fuck, ‘Shiro can feel you here. Mhm.” You can feel him shudder at how wrecked your sound and at the sight of your stomach bulging when he presses in.
“You’re so tight, baby. You’d feel so good on my cock.” Your pussy clenches at the thought of that. you don’t get to fuck him properly often with how difficult it is for him to get back to hero size. “Can you come for me, sweet pea?”
You nod frantically, feeling your orgasm building and burning like a live wire. He uses his thumb to come down to your clit and it’s clumsy due to the size but regardless the pressure he supplies is more than enough to have you screaming out his name as you grind down onto his hand with fervor, wanting to milk out every second of the pleasure.
You hear him humming and wake up on the couch. He sees you looking around dazed and he walks over chuckling. “You passed out, honey. I brought you out here while I changed the sheets and heated up dinner.” You smile up at him and see that his eyes are full of love for you and nothing else.
Loving a pro comes with its challenges and dangers but sometimes love is all they need to save them in turn.
There is still time to play the game here. if your url is bolded and stricken please dm one of us to get you on the next fic!
mitsuki bakugou & inko midoriya x face sitting/strap x fem!reader
wc:3k
contains: milfs💖, cheating (kinda it’s open but boundaries are not discussed and mitsuki’s relationship status is ambiguous), face sitting, humiliation, age gap, sex toys, under discussed boundaries, established izuku x reader, underwear, almost getting caught, threesomes
a/n: i’m a homosexual
kinktober multiplayer masterlist
the damned collab
Inko is flustered when Mitsuki picks up the phone. She hasn’t sounded this flustered since she talked to little Izuku about the birds and bees. (Which Mitsuki followed up in a much more blunt and informative manner for both the boys once they hit high school.) But that was years ago, the boys have been out of school for what, four years now? Five? Fuck we’re getting old.
“What is it, Inko?” She’s always been so emotional and easily flustered, something that Mitsuki has been known to take advantage of.
“Well, Izuku has been staying here with his girlfriend over the weekend. And I was just doing my laundry- mine not theirs- and when I was folding it, I found…” she trails off into a blubbering mess but Mitsuki is quick to get her back on track, asking her to repeat that. “Well, um, I found her orange thong.At first I just thought it was a hair tie! You know one of those lacy frilly ones because it was so small but when I picked it up I figured it out! Oh this is so embarrassing, how do I just give them back! She's still here in Izuku’s room while he’s at a last minute meeting so I can’t sneak it back in their clothes.”
Mitsuki doesn't hide her laughter. This is only something Inko would get worked up about. As if they hadn’t owned skimpy garments like this back when they were younger. Hell, Mitsuki still has some stashed away for special occasions and she would better her bottom dollar so does Inko. “You could just give them to her. You know that right?”
Inko is adamant in her denial that she can absolutely not do that. Mitsuki comes over, with the intention of distracting Izuku’s girlfriend so Inko can sneak upstairs. But when she sees you over Inko's shoulder through the doorway she stops with her mouth hung open. You see her whisper something to Inko as you wave and continue into the kitchen to take out the cookies you were baking.
“Give me the underwear.”
Inko gasps, “What! Why! What about the plan?” She glances over her shoulder to make sure you couldn’t hear.
Mitsuki’s face is adorned with a grin reminiscent of Katsuki in battle, “Wanna make her squirm and blush. Bet she’d be cute. Mostly want to make sure she’s good enough for your darling boy though.” Inko doesn’t need to know that she does want to make sure you’re good enough for Izuku, but not in any way Inko would ever dream of. As Inko shoves them in her coat pocket, Mitsuki says loudly, “Oh shit, Inko! I forgot your apron at my house. Let me go grab it real quick and I’ll be back. Just give me five minutes.” Neither you nor Inko get another word out before Mitsuki runs off in a manner much giddier than you’d associate with the hot-head’s mother.
True to her word she returns, apron in hand and a grin on her face. She shoulders past Inko and meets you in the kitchen where she starts making a pot of tea for the three of you. “So darling, we’ve met but only in passing! How did you and Izuku meet?”
It’s funny how much she is like her son, forward and vexing in what you might call an endearing way. “Well, I work in the support department at the boy’s agency. I worked on Katsuki’s gauntlets a few times before Izuku came down for a boot redesign. He caught me mumbling and we just.. Hit it off I guess.” Mitsuki watches you smile and gesture around at nothing. ”Coffee turned into dinner and that turned into dates. It just kinda happened. And here we are eight months later and in a happy open relationship.”
“Well I’m glad for the both of you, you seem really happy. Maybe you can find someone for my brat to shackle down with. That’s probably asking too much of you though, we all know that he’s a lot to handle.”
You giggle at her, mischief in your eyes, “I think he’s got his eyes on someone, but his head is stuck so deep in his inferiority complex so it might be a while before anything happens.” Mitsuki files this away for later questioning but leaves it to rest for now.
“Well, let's take these cookies and tea to the living room and we can get to know each other a little more, yeah? I got plenty of embarrassing stories about those kids.” You follow her into the living room and meet Inko who is nervously sitting on the couch, eyes flickering between the two of you.
They watch you sit, carefully crossing your legs in your cute pink sundress before smiling up at them and asking how they met. Mitsuki regails you with some story that you're sure is more false than true but is entertaining nonetheless. It isn’t long before Mitsuki is asking you about your “dirty little secrets.” It catches you off guard, causing you to chuckle and ask just what she means by that.
“Well, I was a girl your age once, what do you get up to that Izuku wouldn’t want his mother dearest to know? It’ll just be between us girls.” It’s an uncomfortable question, north hat you are ashamed about your sex life, its realtively healthy and normal, but nothing you’d want to share with his mother of all people.
“Uhm, I’m not sure what you mean Mrs. Bakugou.” That smile returns as she pulls something out of her pocket, some type of fabric? Oh. Oh no. The cheshire grin on her face is juxtaposed by Inkos beet red embarrassed face and you just know she found them. “I am so embarrassed. I know it’s just underwear but I’m sorry you found them Inko! God this is so awkwa-”
“This isn’t even enough to be considered underwear. There’s barely any fabric here. I bet you wear these when you want Izuku to bend you over.” Mitsuki’s gaze is appraising, reading your body language, the heat in your checks, shifting of thighs and averted gaze. She must like what she sees because she continues. “Then why did you bring them wiht you here, did you want him to fuck you in his childhood bedroom? Did you suck his dick while his mom was home?” You don’t answer and she looks to Inko, “Well, did you hear anything that you wish you hadn’t? Hear her cute little moans maybe? Filtering through your bedroom wall while you try to sleep at night?” The greenette is staring down at her lap, red cheeks evident to all.
Somehow this woman in front of you has transformed into a demon and has both you and your boyfriend's mother under her thumb. Playing with you both like little dolls for her entertainment. She Stands up and stalks over to you slowly, dropping the lace on your lap and waits, glancing between you and the fabric. You swallow and stand up to pull them on underneath your dress.
“Oh ho ho. Was this naughty little girl prancing around the house in this short little dress, entertaining her bosses mothers with no panties on?” You feel compelled to nod, like your body is moving without your approval as you lift your dress up to show the snug straps over your hips and small triangle of lace covering not much of anything. Mitsuki lets out an appreciative hum, motioning for you to twirl. A harsh smack lands on your ass as you comply. You see both of them watch it jiggle as you look over your shoulder scandalized at the action.
To be honest you aren’t surprised at Mitsuki, not with the way she was just walking, but Inko? Sweet little Inko who’s been nothing but an angel to you the whole time you’ve known her? No, you didn;t expect her to be staring at your ass in the same way her son does when he sees that little string swallowed up by your cheeks. You go to let the fabric fall and leave, overwhelmed with what's going on but Mitsuki is already behind you, hands running up your body and dragging the cotton fabric of your dress up with it.
As she pulls it over your head, you are staring at Inko with a mixture of lust and confusion as your tits fall free, bare for her to drink in. You should be embarrassed, standing near naked in front of these two mothers, mothers of our bosses, your boyfriend's mother. But the attention they are giving you, like your a gift, the apple of their garden, forbidden but ripe for the taking.
It makes you feel desired, powerful, someone who could hold all the control if you wanted to. Like you could control Inko, twist her around your finger every which way. That you drew this type of energy out of Mitsuki, it’s a heady drug. Like a goddess, of the dark seedy underworld where mothers lust for you but in the same breath of spring, a fresh breath of air, a light playful thing, mischievous and fun.
Mitsuki pulls you out of your staring contest with a snap of the strap on your hip. You turn back to see her in her sleek black skirt and a black lace bra looking just the picture of elegant beauty and power. And the gleam in her eye as she looks you over with a smirk makes you realize that you have no power here. The small warm hand on your hip just cements the fact. You are powerless between the two. A charming devil on one shoulder and a doting angel on the other.
Inko is hesitant in the way she touches you, unsure in what is allowed but desperate to push the boundaries and just take. The soft kisses along your shoulder blades are evident of that. In between the ones she's leaving you and Mitsuki’s long fingers teasing your nipples you find yourself walking to Izuku’s room and sitting on the bed. Inko and Mitsuki are looming over you and you try to figure out where this is going next but so far just letting it happen has been more than fun.
Mitsuki slaps Inko’s ass and tells her to see how good she kisses, see if she treats her little boy right. Inko is more than happy to comply, scrambling up into your lap and pushing you down into the bed. Her lips are small and soft and pleading for more. You open up her mouth and she honest to god moans as she slips her tongue in. You can feel Mitsuki unbuttoning Inko’s shirt, undressing her as she’s sitting on your lap. GIving you the most twisted present you could ever want. All this soft skin for you to touch, to kiss, and worship like the angel she is.
She whimpers when Mitsuki pulls her skirt off, leaving her in her cotton underwear and plain bra and all you can focus on is the wet patch you can feel growing from her crotch pressed on your stomach. You see her kiss swollen lips and pupils blown wide. It looks like there’s some type of regret trying to cross her features but when you grasp her ass and drag her cunt along your stomach it fades away with eyes rolling back into her head.
Mitsuki kneels down to whisper in your ear, “Doesn’t she look so pretty like that. Moaning like a whore from a little action. Don’t you want to hear more of those pretty noises?” You nod, looking up at her like she hung the sun, ready and willing to do what she asks. You can feel inko rocking her hips against you, a hand grasping your tit for balance.
You look at Inko, begging her to tell you what she wants, more than willing to give it to her. In the end, neither of you make that decision. Mitsuki pushes her up your chest until she straddles your shoulders. Inko tries to shuffle away rambling about how she's concerned about hurting you or being too heavy but your arms are already wrapped around her thighs and lips leaving bruising marks right alongside them.
Her legs are coated in arousal and your spit before Mitsuki slowly pushes her down onto your tongue after catching her by surprise with a kiss. You can taste the arousal caught in her panties and the warmth of your tongue makes her let out a yelp that turns into a moan. You chuckle and press a kiss against the fabric before you nudge them to the side with your nose and dive in with a fervor.
Her weight pressing down on you feels like heaven, you must have died and moved on and the noises coming from above you are the trumpets at the gate, angels welcoming you home, something ethereal. Your tongue tasting the rivers of milk and honey pouring from her as she ruts against you. It’s intoxicating and you forget about your corporeal form until a pair of hands spread your legs apart for someone to move in between.
Mitsuki’s touch lights a fire in your gut, fingers dipping into your hole quickly before pulling out. You can hear a muffled laugh and she’s so wet from making you feel good. Isn’t she a good little girl? It’s shameful, the way your gut clenches and flops at her words, the consent making you queasy but the doting tone willing you to agree.
A blunt head is pressed against you and stays right there, teasing you with what is to come but never giving in. Rolling your hips doesn’t help to fully catch it in your hole but it must be a pretty enough sight for her to give in and bottom out in one sharp thrust at jolts you forward.
Inko almost falls over but a firm fist in your hair keeps her upright and chasing the pleasure. Mitsuki’s sharp and near brutal pace makes it difficult for you to focus on Inko but you have to. Have to keep hearing all those pretty sounds. You focus on suckling at her clit, flicking at it with your tongue before sliding down to press at her hole. You slide in easily and with every roll of her hips your nose catches on her clit causing them to stutter.
You can tell she’s close and nothing in the world could stop you from bringing her there. Your wet and sloppy but its doing the triick, slurping at her folds, thumbing at her clit while you fuck her hole with your tongue, it doesn’t take long before theres a waterfall of ambrosia pouring down your face and Inko falls over next to you boneless.
Mitsuki must be proud of you or happy that all your attention is on her, either way she gets into your space and licks Inko off of your face before grasping your jaw open and spitting in your mouth. “Hold it. Mouth open.” You do just that and she nods looking at that little fuckdrunk look on your face.
She picks up her pace, fucking you fast and fucking you stupid. Inko’s mouth latches onto one of your nipples catching you by surprise and a weak whine slips out. She coos, “Aw a cute little baby. I get why Izuku likes you, lookin’ up all doe eyed while being fucked open. I know I love it. Love how tight you are around my cock. Fuck, darlin’.”
You feel like lava is flowing through your veins, fire licking at your lungs, your brain leaving it scorched until nothing is left but her. Your throat is dry and you want to cry out, let out the noises building in your chest but you have to be good. Keep her spit in your mouth until she tells you to swallow.
Inko’s hands are joined by Mitsuki’s roaming over your body leaving nothing untouched. You are a live wire ready to overload and shut down. Soft fingers rub against your clit beckoning forward the black out and it's just as strong as you expected, A supernova of pleasure from the mused hairs on your head to your curling toes rippling out from where Mitsuki fucks you through it.
She doesn’t stop even when your back hits the bed again. Her pace slows but it doesn’t matter when every thrust burns as you try to scramble away from the cooling embers of pleasure that's quickly turning into white hot pain.
You feel her shudder and grind in against you and let out the softest noise any Bakugou has ever uttered and it’s an entirely enchanting moan. She rolls her hips through her organs, riding through the pleasure on the straps of her harness before she pulls out and stands on shaky legs. Only then does she let you swallow.
Inko shuffles away quickly, urging her to sit and returns with some wet cloths. She dutifully and delicately cleans both of you up, showering you in praise and soft kisses against the cleaned skin. Mitsuki grumbles far more about the words than you did but puts up no real argument.
The three of you lay on Izuku’s childhood bed for longer than you probably should. The door opening was near inaudible but Izuku’s loud call for the both of you shatters the silence your trio was basking in. Mitsuki and Inko hurriedly dress to meet him downstairs and buy you some time to regain your senses and put your wracked self back together.
You see Mitsuki stop by the door and you drearily turn your head to look at her. “For what it’s worth, I think you probably treat Izuku pretty well.”
There is still time to play the game here. if your url is bolded and stricken please dm one of us to get you on the next fic!
Brainrot returns in the sequel of the cult classic Brainrot Kinktober.
Kinktober II: Multiplayer is an expansion of the original, bringing in characters from other fandoms and putting them through the wringer. There are new faces and mechanics, but stays true to the original with familiar characters and ideas, but the most important returning part is… you.
Kinktober II: Multiplayer hits the shelves October 1st at 8PM EST.
Don’t be afraid to play with the lights out…
October 1 & 2 JJK DOUBLE FEATURE:
Yuuji Itadori x Sexting || Ryomen Sukuna x Blackmail
October 3- Reki Kyan x Getting Caught (sk8)
October 4- Shinichiro Sano x Spectrophilia (tokyo rev.)
October 5- Momo Yaoyorozu & Kiyoka Jiro x Sensory Deprivation (bnha)
October 6- Atsushi “Akkun” Sendo x Delayed Gratification (tokyo rev.)
October 7- Shoyo Hinata x Body Worship (hq!)
October 8- Satoru Gojo x Mirrors (jjk)
October 9- Takemichi Hanegaki x Wet Dream (tokyo rev.)
October 10- Izuku Midoriya x Breeding (bnha)
October 11- Langa Hasegawa x Striptease (sk8)
October 12- Izana Kurokawa x Biting (tokyo rev.)
October 13- Taishiro “Fat Gum” Toyomitsu x Size (bnha)
October 14- Toge Inumaki x Food Play (jjk)
October 15- Hitoka Yachi x Mommy Kink (hq!)
October 16 & 17 Tokyo Rev DOUBLE FEATURE
Souya “Angry” Kawata x Posession || Nahoya “Smiley” Kawata x Coercion
October 18- Hitoshi Shinso x Brat Taming (bnha)
October 19- Chifuyu Matsuno x Sugar Daddy (tokyo rev.)
October 20- Issei Matsukawa x Knifeplay (hq!)
October 21- Kojiro “Joe” Nanjo x Tit Fucking (sk8)
October 22- Ran & Rindo Haitani x Dumbification (tokyo rev.)
October 23- Katsuki Bakugou x Glory Hole (bnha)
October 24- Kaoru “Cherry Blossom” Sakurayashiki x Rimming (sk8)
October 25- Mitsuki Bakugo & Inko Midoriya x Face Sitting/Strap (bnha)
October 26- Toji Fushiguro x Daddy Kink (jjk)
October 27- Shuji Hanma x Birthday Sex (tokyo rev.)
October 28- Nieto Monoma x Mindbreak (hq!)
October 29- UA Big Three x Corruption (bnha)
October 30- Rintaro Suna x Pet Play (hq!)
HALLOWEEN SPECIAL
Tokyo Manji Gang Founding Members x Gangbang- an interactive ficlet
Creator @honey-makki will post the first level and then alternate with co-creator @heauxzenji. Levels will be accessible for play at 8pm EST each day.
Will you level-up when the kinks go bump in the night?
Link to pre-order (join the taglist) here- if you dare....
contains: titfucking, public sex, degradation, reader doesnt get to cum (sad!), past joe x reader implied matcha blossom, implied reader x adam, heavy angst lmao, sex tapes (kinda, like yeah but not in the traditional manner), facials, cum in eyes (rip)
a/n: idk where this got so angsty sorry
kinktober II: multiplayer masterlist
You always got weird looks being the only girl in your friend group in school. People saying you were their whore or only stuck around for their cocks. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Adam was your best friend, Cherry loved how smart you were and Joe, well, Joe was the love of your life. Up to that point at least.
You loved Joe but you loved Adam more, neither of you admitted it until the falling out between the boys. It was only a few days until you couldn’t stand him not being with you that you broke up with Joe and went to be with Adam in America. It felt right, to be by Adam’s side, no matter the pain you felt leaving Cherry and Joe behind.
The pain didn’t dissipate when you both returned to Okinawa but it's duller now. An old memory of what was traded in for current bliss. There were a few races before Joe and Cheryr caught sight of you, your hair was shorter and the mask obscured your features. But Joe would remember that laugh for the rest of time. Like a moth drawn to a flame he found him standing in front of you in shock. You caught sight of Cherry a few feet away discontented.
Joe stumbles for words, trying to figure out how to cross the 5 year gap between you. You think it’s cute in an demeaning way. That he’s still caught up on little ole you from high school. You tell him exactly that. He still can’t find the words to respond but the pain and betrayal is painted on his face again, a sad echo of the last time you turned your back to him.
Cherry is in your face spitting pure venom about how cruel and ruthless you were back then and it's disgusting that you would dare do it again. Adam catches your eye as you laugh. “It’s disgusting that you are still in love with Joe after all these years and never said anything about it. Forcing him to stay by your side for your own pleasure. Now, that’s cruel.”
Adam speaks into the microphone, silencing the crowd, and announces there will be an additional race to the one Shadow had planned. He introduces you as his companion with a grandiose speech and gravitas. Joe steps up to the line before Adam even offers the chance for people to volunteer. He’s angry and standing around is only going to make it worse and if he’s honest, he just wants to see you smile again. He knows it's twisted, with everything you’ve done, but your smile has haunted his dreams for years and he would die just to see a ghost of it.
Your board rolls up next to him but your eyes are only on the path, ready to race. Your eyes don’t loop up until the bell chimes as you shoot forward. You outpace Joe for the first part, past the rocks, and around a bend. Joe had always used his build and strength to gain speed where anyone else would spin out or crash. It doesn't surprise you or any of the people in the crowd that he is gaining on you on these curves.
You, on the other hand, do surprise him as you turn around, skating down straight away backward with a smug grin on your face. “Aw, Joe, if you wanted to talk, you didn’t have to chase me all the way down here! Unless you were running from Cherry? I wouldn’t blame you if you were.”
You aren’t sure how he finagles himself in front of you or cuts you off but the pain of the rocks digging into your skin grounds you. There’s pain shooting down your spine from your scalp as he hauls you against the wall by a fistful of your hair. You’re no stranger to pain, falls while skating, leaving your friends behind but the pain on Joe’s face is diminished by the pure wrath radiating from him. It’s nothing you’ve ever seen before and it leaves you a little shaken.
“Cherry has never ever made me do anything. I want to stay by his side because he is loyal and actually cares about me. Unlike you. You never cared for me. For any of us. You’re such a manipulative bitch.” Spittle coats your face as he curses at you and it’s the most turned-on you’ve ever been. Happy go lucky Joe truly angry and feeling, and you did this to him. He’s never shown more emotion than in this moment right here.
He sees the lust on your face, more than well acquainted with that look. “Fucking needy slut. Coming running back to someone who can fuck you right? Does Adam not satisfy you? Did you miss my cock that much?” His breath is fanning across your face as he inches closer, you think he’s going to kiss you. You aren’t expecting anything soft or kind, but the spit on your face and the kiss of pain from gravel on your knees has never been his style.
His build is intimidating, towering over you as you wipe your face clean. The race has been abandoned but the attention of the crowd is still entirely on you. Cameras and eyes trained on the interaction occurring in the middle of the path.
“I won’t fuck you. Adam might want my sloppy seconds but I sure as hell don’t want his. Not gonna stick my dick in something so nasty. But if you want it so bad, maybe some part of you could still be useful.” You would deny the moan you let out as he tore your shirt off, exposing your chest to everyone there if it wasn’t caught on camera.
“Your tit’s are still as nice as I remember. Not that I really want to call anything about you, nice.” You can see how hard Joe is in his white pants, the loose fabric doing nothing to hide how seeing you down on your knees affects him. Your hands are drawn up to the strappy belt, begging to free him but his large hands grasps your wrists before you make contact.
“You do not fucking deserve to touch me. I leave you here right now if you even try again.” When you dazedly nod up to him he pulls the fabric down just enough to free his cock and balls. He pulls you up by your chin until you are mere inches from his cock. His head tilts to the side, appraising you before he lets out a harsh tch. He rolls your board over in front of him and just looks at you expectantly.
The crowd around you is whispering and you can hear it, but all you can process is how badly you want that cock, anyway he's willing to give it. You shift to kneel on the board and settle your hands on your thighs waiting for his next move. The ball is in his court.
He moves forward slowly like you aren’t even worth his time like it's a chore to press his cock between your tits. Somehow you find that you are the only one moaning like a whore despite there being no stimulation for you except mental. His face stays near neutral, just a slight furrowed brow, twitches on the corner of his lips, flaring nostrils. It’s dehumanizing, him using you to get off and not even acknowledging you or the pleasure he’s feeling.
And it’s obvious he’s feeling it by the slick glide of his cock assisted by ample amounts of pre-cum. Your hands grip the fat of your thighs tightly and cause your arms to push your breasts together giving him a tighter squeeze that finally coaxes a groan out of him.
“All you were ever good at was sex, being a place I could dump my cum. Nothing else about you is worthwhile.” You can feel him twitch as he speaks lowly just for you, “Guess I can deign to do that one more time. You probably want it anyway.” He chuckles at the whine you let out and the sight of your eyes rolling back.
It only takes a few more thrusts before your face is coated in a hot liquid. It clings to your eyelashes leaving you temporarily blind. You shiver when his breath ghosts over your face, “I never want to see you near Cherry again. Run back to wherever you and Adam slithered off too when you left.” By the time you clean your face off Joe is long gone. Leaving you high and dry kneeling on your skateboard in the middle of S. When Joe reaches the finish line He grabs Cherry’s hand and drags him off, leaving Adam gaping and confused and a crowd jeering behind him.
Oh, and the videos of you on your knees for him.
There is still time to play the game here. if your url is bolded and stricken please dm one of us to get you on the next fic!
contains: sugar daddy!chifuyu, 80s!au, hookups, sex toy use, vaginal sex
a/n: i just want him to take care of me in and out of the bedroom. that's all i want in my entire life. this was the frist ktober fic i wrote. love this man
kinktober II: multiplayer masterlist
Fancy dinners and galas with done-up hair and expensive jewelry was something that was new to you. Growing up you spent more time working and helping pay bills than at school but it worked out. You have what you need, a stable job with a decent income, a small apartment in a nice area of town, and a reliable group of friends. You are happy and fulfilled but sometimes you think that you really aren’t.
That something is missing, maybe the intense pressure you grew up with or the satisfaction you saw on your parent’s faces when you brought money home. Just that one little thing you can’t place but so desperately crave.
And that’s where this comes in. This party, gathering, or whatever it is officially called. One of your friends dragged you along with her, knowing that you were feeling a little down. That didn’t stop Emma from immediately abandoning you when Draken walked into the room. You didn’t know what his job was but he was the host of tonight's extravagance and that watch he has one looks like it costs more than the entire store you run so it’s probably better that you don’t know.
Emma’s pink dress flits around her with every wave of her hand as she makes conversation with someone who has a frankly outrageous perm but has an air of importance you can spot from across the room. It might be the tight-fitted red dress she wears or the man standing next to her in a fairly baggy suit swallowing his lanky frame but the tattoo peeking out beneath his mullet on the back of his neck?
You avert your eyes and head to the open bar thinking if ignorance is bliss then a couple of B-52 shots will be heaven. Other people have similar ideas, opting for top-shelf liquor you don’t recognize and probably tastes much better. You aren’t going for taste, just something you can pound back a few of and get a good buzz. Classy isn’t in your know-how and you frankly are a little too unnerved by the fucking mob boss across the room your best friend is casually chatting with.
The man next to you knocks on the bar and the bartender brings you both over another shot. You can see the rings adorning his hand as he holds his out waiting for a customary clink together before taking it and even you know what that means. You look up and meet the softest blue eyes you’ve ever seen, maintaining eye contact as you both finish swallowing.
“I’d thank you for buying me a drink but they’re free tonight.” Your tone is playful, hoping to find something to do tonight and he seems like a worthy candidate. His suit is slimmer than most others, highlighting the curve of his biceps. The white tee shirt he has underneath is thin and you can see the faintest hint of muscle peeking through but you don't let your eyes linger.
“Even if it wasn’t free, you would be worth the cost of this shot,” his lips curve around the glass of whiskey he is sipping before continuing, “and more.” You can feel the heat of his gaze crawling up your body and along your arms. He is absolutely going to be worth whatever trouble he’s surely embroiled in.
He orders you another drink, something you can sip on over conversation even though your conversation is less talking and more exchanging heated glances that neither of you addresses at first. Working through basic mindless topics. Names, hobbies, pets, and eventually why you are here tonight. You find that both of you are friends with Emma, although he only knows her through his boss Draken.
The conversation changes topic quickly and you don’t care to know more about his job, despite how interesting it surely is. You have much more interest in finding out what the ink is that you can start to make out directly in the middle of his chest. It’s hard to see with the shadow of his pecs but that in itself is a good enough view.
He finally makes the move you were hoping for and places a hand on your lower back with a surprising amount of force, pushing the ruched fabric into your back as his voice drops an octave and gives you a hotel name and room number before heading down to valet.
It’s a surprisingly considerate action, giving you time to really decide, you can go with him in his car, find your own way there or just go home satisfied with the heated glances. Next thing you know your chunky huarache heels are leading you to the elevator down after Chifuyu. Chifuyu Matsuno.
His black Porsche 911 Turbo is waiting at the curb as if he knew you’d follow him down, and honestly, he was spot on, there was no way you weren’t going with him. The ride is silent but the hand he has holding your thigh speaks volumes about what is going to happen.
The door of room 1219 closing is sealing the deal. When it opens again you will be intertwined with Chifuyu in some way even if it's a fleeting moment of your life story. You both drink a glass of water before getting down to business.
You follow the movement of his body from your perch on the edge of the bed as he strips off his jacket and undoes the top few buttons on his shirt. Following his lead, you tip off your heels and begin to unzip your dress until his hands stop you. With a gentle weight at the base of the zipper track he slowly pulls it down for you and helps you shrug it off. Him taking your dress off had no business being as sensual as it was but it left you with your eyes blown wide standing near bare in front of him. You aren’t the only one affected, you can see a clear outline of his cock straining against his slacks as his eyes rake up and down your body.
Stepping into his space it's evident how actually worked up he is, his jaw clenched tight and veins pulsing rapidly. It’s natural -- instinct even -- to step forward and kiss him hard. Your hands snake into his hair and pull him down to meet you, angling him so you can lick your way into his mouth. His mouth falls open on a low groan and you take full advantage of that. It seems his brain has finally caught back up because he pulls your body flush against his.
He doesn’t stop kissing you breathless until you fall back against the bed. Chifuyu stands there in between your legs looking down at you with the cockiest smirk on his face as he slowly unbuttons his shirt and lays it out on the chair. When he returns he grabs your left leg and kisses your ankle. Then your calf, and then your knee, working his way up your leg until his lips suck a small mark where your thigh meets your groin. His lips stir up a deep arousal in your gut that he ignores to give a soft kiss just above the band of your underwear before working his way down your right leg.
You may have started it, but Chifuyu has you like putty in his palms, entirely at his will, which is exactly where he wants you. “Scoot up sweetheart, make room for me.” Every inch you go back he takes forward, crawling up the bed until you notice he still is nearly fully dressed. Your foot against his chest stops him in his tracks and following your line of sight he lets out a small chuckle.
“If you wanted me naked all you had to do was ask.” He unbuckles his belt and starts to take it off fully before continuing, “But it would be hypocritical of me to say that when I’m not asking you to get naked, because I really want that. Really wanna see all of you” He continues to undress slowly and folds his pants up like he didn’t just beg to see you naked. Someone who holds so much power in his hands if the Bonten tattoo gracing the center of his chest is any indication to go by.
Of course you comply, unfastening your bra and sliding down your panties, relaxing against the pillows, and laying back out like you were before. Perfectly poised and exposed for his hungry gaze, which has just grown deeper. He is almost rooted to his spot at the end of the bed drinking in the sight before him, it would make you feel shy and uncomfortable if you couldn’t see his cock twitching.
His cock. Fuck, you don’t even know if he’s gonna fit but you don’t have to even think about voicing concerns because his mouth is back on yours. It doesn’t stay there long working down your neck and kissing along your neck while two of his fingers slide to your cunt. You gasp while the pet through your folds, spreading you open for his eyes.
“Darling, you are so pretty, so wet for me.” When you go to respond, his thumb circles your clit, and your words are left as an aborted moan. You hear his laugh but can’t see him through your scrunched-up eyelids. When he pulls away and gives you a soft kiss on your forehead, you look up to him with desperation.
“Please, please Chifuyu, want you,” your hips bucking up looking for his touch you already miss so much. Your hand trails from his shoulder down his abdomen until you reach his cock and feel how wet he is. He hisses as your fist makes sloppy movements trying to spur him back into touching you.
He gives you exactly what you want. Two fingers shoved deep in your cunt stretching you out and his lips on yours fostering a passion you hadn’t felt in a while. He’s good at that. Giving you what you want, what you need. And you hope it doesn’t end here.
You were right- it didn’t end here. 1219 is an important number in your life and so is Chifuyu. He calls you every morning on his walk up to the office and sends you breakfast on the regular. It’s nice. Having someone to take care of you when you’ve spent your entire life taking care of those around you. Chifuyu provides you with everything you need and if you are good, everything you want but at the same time respects your desire to continue working and maintain separate finances as well as a private space. He isn’t obtuse, he openly calls himself your sugar daddy, and while he has some complicated feelings he hasn’t fully worked out himself, he isn’t going to push any boundaries of the relationship you have already.
That being said, there isn’t much more he could want at the moment. You both spent a significant amount of time with each other, from meeting for lunch or just grocery shopping together, always on his dime. You both have clear communications about what you want in the bedroom and seem entirely satisfied with what happens in there. At this point, it's crazy to think that you have only been in your situationship for six months by how interlaced your lives are.
Like tonight, tonight you are riding around town with him while he runs some errands for Draken. It’s not a special night or anything fancy, you both just enjoy each other's presence and it gives an easy excuse to have the other over that evening. He picks you up from your apartment and compliments your outfit. A checkered miniskirt he bought you a few months ago with a red top and black boots. It felt fitting knowing the activities at hand. Before you two leave, he pulls out a gift from behind his back.
The usual soft smile on his face when giving you a gift is replaced with something much more coy. “Oh, you might wanna open that one inside, privacy and all that.” You give him an unimpressed look but head back inside with him hot on your tail.
The silence when you finally open the gift is only punctuated by the click of your door closing. “Why are you giving me this now?” You turn around holding a stiff, canary yellow dildo of decent size. His predatory gaze is equal parts concerning and arousing. His arms circle around your waist and he rests his chin on your head before responding.
“Let’s just say, if you use that tonight while we are running our errands, and you don’t cum, I’ll get you a new apartment.” His hands are trailing up and down your sides underneath your shirt sending shivers down your spine and arousal pooling in your gut. It’s big, it’ll fit for sure, but to have this in you and act normal? For multiple hours? It’ll be an undertaking that’s for sure, but a new apartment, closer to your work, that could be life-changing.
Your ok comes out as a mere whisper. Chifuyu sits down in an armchair and crosses his leg, waiting. You were going to unzip your skirt, but hiking it up would be faster and you’d be lying if you weren’t aroused by the idea. You lean back on the couch where Chifuyu has a perfect view of your already bare cunt.
“God, you weren’t wearing underwear? You were begging to be filled, so cock hungry.” You mewl at his words as you work your fingers in and out in a frantic manner, perfectly avoiding your g spot and clit. You are determined not to cum, and especially not yet, not when your apartment and pride are on the line.
The first time you try to put it into you aren’t ready despite how slick you are. And Chifuyu groans at the disappointed whine you let out when you return to stretching yourself out with three fingers, taking more time to properly scissor you open.
Five minutes later, Chifuyu checks his watch and looks at your debauched face, tears threatening to ruin your makeup while you work the dildo inside. “Perfect timing, we gotta get going.” He doesn't give you a chance to freshen up and you know that you look and smell like sex, but as soon as Chifuyu pulled your skirt back into place he was guiding you down the stairs.
The flared base of the dildo rubs uncomfortably at the apex of your thighs but it's muted against the pleasure from how it hits against your g-spot every few steps. By the time you get to the bike you have worked up a sweat again and eye it nervously, unsure how you are going to get on.
His laugh is teasing and degrading at the same time as he picks you up and places you on the bike before getting on himself and starting it.
Oh. That’s why he did this today.
It's a normal dildo, but pressed against the seat of the bike you can feel the rumbling engine shooting up your core, and when he revs the engine to take off, you let out an honest god scream at the vibration and pleasure wracking your body. His laughter mixes with your scream and the rumble of the engine.
By the time you reach the first meeting down at the docks, you are trembling and heaving deep breaths. Chifuyu gives you a soft kiss on the cheek as you fall forward towards the handles no longer supported by his back.
“Take a second to breathe angel, you’re already making a mess of my seat and we have three more stops tonight.” You whine and try to smack his arm but he dances out of the way and into a warehouse with a skip in his step
He knows you won’t make it through this night without cumming, but he still plans on getting you a new apartment, one that has you both in it.
There is still time to play the game here. if your url is bolded and stricken please dm one of us to get you on the next fic!
warnings: mentions of death (family member), oral (fem receiving), fire, probably unsanitary cooking conditions if i’m being honest (it’s soft i swear)
summary: the holidays are your favorite time of year. your best friend hanamaki tries to keep holiday cheer alive despite the loss of a family member.
word count 2.4k
masterlist
Holiday’s are tricky. Decisions on whether the trauma of going home will be a heavier burden to bear than the guilt and loneliness of your city apartment. GOing home was never a pleasant experience. Trips filled with parents nitpicking your seemingly successful life and emotionally battering you about anything and everything they could. The only reprieve would be hugging your grandmother and being able to see her face-to-face during dinner. She understood why you didn’t come home every opportunity and didn’t blame you a bit.
On years when it would be too much to travel, you knew that she would still give you a call. Spending all day on the phone with you while you bounced around the kitchen making much smaller portions of what they would be eating at home. Even the small amounts of silence on the call were comfortable. You could feel her next to you kneading the dough for a pie while you mixed together the fruit base. It felt like home.
The silence that has been living in your apartment the past few months after her passing was suffocating. Weekends spent with friends at their apartment just to get out of somewhere that just seems to reek of death and despair.
You had spent more nights at Makki’s place in the past month than at your own. He was your closest friend, a true confidant, someone skilled at lifting your mood, and the person you’ve been undeniably in love with for years. You accepted the fate of growing old with a horde of cats as long as you can have his silly pink hair shining in the sun when you hung out with friends. It’s ok that you are going to be alone forever as long as you still had a standing laser tag date once a month. The only thing stronger than your feelings of love towards the strawberry blond was fear of losing him.
He has been a pillar of strength during the past few months. Holding your crying body until you fall asleep on his tear-stained and snot covered chest. Setting alarms in your phone to make sure you are eating or going to work instead of sitting in a dissociative state. Ever since you shared a bed with him, he’s been a little more comfortable with physical contact. Walking closer together arms touching when going out or throwing an arm over your shoulder when lounging around the house. You can’t count the number of times you’ve both woken up in various stages of cuddling.
He was the one to bring up spending the holidays together. He had just gone home for a wedding and couldn’t afford another ticket and he knew that you were in a weird spot. “We can stay here and make dinner and bake cookies and watch shitty r-romcoms? Someone has to appreciate Hallmark movies, why not us?” You can hear his voice crack and start to speed up as a blush rises across his face. You see it but don’t really process it, more relieved that for the first time in months, the thought of holidays didn’t make you run to the bathroom and throw up. You smiled and nodded, setting plans for him to come over later in the week.
Makki always liked when you cooked, throwing a western spin on dishes he considered normal. But today, he was flabbergasted, you didn’t let him just sit on the barstool curating music while you did all the work, no, there was too much food to be made for him to laze around. You laid out the recipe for your grandmothers’ mac n’ cheese, explaining what everything meant while you got started on an asian fusion stuffing you figured out a few years back.
You stole glances at him in the middle of stirring, combining and folding everything together. His tongue sticks out between his lips while he deliberately measures out the exact amount of cheese required. In all the time you’ve seen him, you’ve never seen him totally lose his laid back air until now, and you can’t control your laugh. Is he really more serious about measuring out sharp cheddar cheese than a game that would take them to nationals? Or that physics final he actually studied for? Your heart skips a beat when you see his soft, satisfied smile to the dish he just created. All you can picture when he looks over to you is how cute of a child he must have been. Cheeks round encasing his bright smile as his head tilts ever so slightly to the left.
After he slides the last dish into the oven, you both opt for taking the time to clean the kitchen, knowing that you won’t want to do it after dinner. The dishes are washed and dried and while Makki puts away the ones that go on a higher shelf, you return flour and other ingredients to the pantry but before you put them down you call out to him, voice lighter than normal, the one you use when asking a favor.
“Taka, how upset would you be if I said I wanted to cook a little bit more?”
“You get dishes this time around then, but what are we makin’?”
You turn out of the pantry with a bounce in your step before slapping down the flour and newly acquired, chocolate chips and sprinkles. “Cookies! We always made cookies with my grandma and it wouldn’t be the same without them.” Your eyes sparkle at the thought of the sweet treats and equally sweet memories of your childhood. Makki thinks you are breathtaking.
“Let me get the bowls back down and we can probably make mediocre cookies if you have anything you do with it.” He smiles at just how cute the squawk you made from his teasing is, just happy that he gets to be here with you. He doesn’t really hear how you defend your baking skills and complain that just because you forgot flour one time doesn’t mean you are inept at baking.
He never thought he would be the type to settle down and be domestic, it just didn’t seem like something he cared a lot about, but now he he can’t rid his mind of the thought of waking up ten minutes before your alarm just to make you a cup of coffee or throwing your favorite blanket in the drier on days it’s raining so when you get home, you can melt into the soft plush and warm up instantly.The clattering of spices brings him back to the moment, turning to see you picking up the cinnamon and vanilla extract.
“You good, love?” There’s something about how you look when you flustered because of him, that scratches an itch he didn’t know was there. The first time a pet name like this had slipped through his lips he was certain that whatever line the two of you were toeing had been crossed, demolished. Instead you just tucked your hair away and averted your gaze back to whatever shitty movie the two of you were “watching” that night. Now it’s normal, well its not normal, its very much not normal for him to refer to you as love or babe and it's not normal for you to exclusivley call him by his first name. It's decidedly abnormal considering your relationship or lack thereof. But if you aren’t going to question it neither is he.
He helps you up and gather the remaining ingredients for the “famous snickerdoodle cookies” that you swear had won awards. The mixing of the dough is interrupted when he has to grab your wrist to stop you from adding salt instead of sugar. You refuse to look at him because you know he is sporting a huge smirk and raised eyebrows, knowing that he’s right about you not being the best baker. You are reprieved by the oven going off, signaling to remove the earlier and change the temperature.
“Damn, babe, these cookies look so good, especially this one.” You return to Makki who already started to lay out the dough on the baking tray. You see perfectly round blobs squished slightly by a fork for a pattern and then right in front of him you see the cookie he was talking about. You didn't expect to see your 27 year old boyfriend-who-isn’t-your-boyfriend to be holding a cockshaoped cookie. But really, you should have seen it coming from the guy who laughs when either of you fart.
He can hear the clock ticking as you just stare, annoyed. He was concerned for a second, that maybe he shouldn’t have made a lewd joke when making cookies. This is something he used to do with her grandmother, you stupid idiot.. But when he can see the apple of your cheek peeking out from behind your hand, he recognizes that face. The one that positively exudes warmth and happiness with her laughter. The butterflies always buzzing in his stomach go wild when this face comes out. He would do anything to see it for the rest of time.
You don’t know where the courage comes from but you cup his cheek for a kiss, he mirrors your action. It just felt normal, and you honestly didn’t realize that it wasn’t normal until you both pulled back. Your eyes are locked on his, both of you sporting a soft smile until his keeps growing, evolving into a laugh that is borderline offensive in how loud it is.
You don’t know why and you get a little nervous that maybe he doesn’t feel the same way, when you go to hide your face, you feel the heat rising but also a soft powdery coating? And that’s when you realize his hands are still coated in flour from shaping the cookies. Your eyes are rolling while you chuckle but Makki on the other hand is losing his mind, almost in tears from laughing while putting the cookies in the oven. “It’s not that funny, Takahiro! Get me a napkin please.”
“Nah, you look really sweet. Good enough to eat.” You weren’t surprised when he returned to kissing you, nor when he lifted you up by your thighs and plopped you on the counter. The kisses are sweet, lazy and perfect for a second kiss, and a third and a fourth. This is normal. His lips belong on yours. Your hands should be tangled up in his hair while his run over your waist and legs. This is right. There's no rush to deepen the kiss, both of you happy to just indulge in the warmth of the other, but it is inevitable. A soft nip at your bottom lip or an accidental tug of his hair, neither of you know what happened first but you both are staring at each other, panting lightly with a much darker gaze than the original flour induced makeout session.
“You are just as sweet as I thought. Gotta have a taste.” His voice is raspier than you’ve ever heard and you just let him move your body as he pleases. Pull your hips to the edge of the counter. Spread your legs as far apart as they’ll go. Lift your hips when he pulls your shorts and underwear down. Gotta act as sweet as he says I am. He has barely touched you but when he falls to his knees and just stares at your dripping slit that he's imagined for years, your eyes, you are already imagining how good he's going to feel.
You shouldn’t even try to think, his tongue exceeded any expectation or desire you had. Expertly flicking against your throbbing clit as he works two fingers in you. You feel the groan he lets out when he dips his tongue into your hole before you hear it. The vibrations reverberate up your spine and through your body, an all-consuming heat starting in your stomach, threatening to let loose, to run rampant on your body. His fingers, joined by another, return to your clenching hole and search for the spongy spot hidden deep inside. All you can hear is the blood rushing through your head, drowning out every other noise.
“C’mon love, cum on my fingers, on my tongue, I’ve wanted, dreamed about this for years, give it to me.” His slow words juxtaposed the fervent pace of his fingers and it was enough to send you over the edge.
You feel so hot you fear you might pass out, the groan Makki lets out beneath you is the only thing keeping you grounded. You were first concerned that you had hurt him in someway, but when you see his eyes roll back into his head and his tongue trying to lap up every single bit of cum you squirted on his face and thighs, you know it wasn’t due to excruciating pain, rather it's just an obscene reaction to you.
When you push him back, squirming with overstimulation, you hear him scramble and “Shit! Fuck! Fire extinguisher?? WHERE IS YOUR FIRE EXTINGUISHER???” You are still out of it until he starts actually screaming, words still evade you but he follows your line of sight to the red tube hiding in the corner next to the fridge. The smell of smoke is overwhelming all of a sudden. You were in a dreamlike post orgasmic state and suddenly your coughing, eyes hazy.
the cookies, SHIT THE COOKIES!! Smoke is billowing out of the oven and your fire alarm is blaring, but soon the room is filled with a white foam originating from Makki. You never realized that the foam would continue to expand until half of your kitchen was covered in it and you saw a sheepish looking Makki on the other side.
“Fires out”. Again, he starts to laugh at you, and this time you join him. Today has turned out entirely different than you expected. It wasn’t a sad day, it was filled with laughter, romance, an ill timed fire and Makki. All in all, a successful holiday, despite the fact everything you cooked was coated in foam. He’d seen you staring at the food and already took his phone out to order food, “Indian or ramen?”
Yeah, you think you’re grandma would be happy seeing you like this. Happy Holidays.
a/n: i don’t really know what this is but the image of makki being a disaster in the kitchen came to me one day and here we are. make sure you read the other fics in the collab
matsukawa’s funeral home winter collab
a/n 2.0: also a/o to @iwaasfairy for making that makki image that i used in my header. i love her more than i love him which say a lot
warnings: manga spoilers (and me just bullshitting what happens after), violence, death, gun use, allusions to war and depression, disillusionment with hero society, all hurt not comfort
word count: 1.9k
summary: carrying a large burden with others is tiring, but when they fall away? so will the one left standing.
a/n: this isn't a reader insert fic its just something that @bokutodotgov and i were discussing while reading the manga and how he seems to be getting more morally gray and disillusioned and it came down to what we really thing would break him and this this whump was born.
masterlist | ao3
Weeks later. Or maybe it's been months, Izuku isn’t sure how long it’s been since he left a copy of his heart on everyone's door. A copy of a letter that unknowingly left a piece of his hope for humanity with each of classmates. He isn’t sure how many leads he followed, how many lives he saved and even worse, how many he lost. Even if he wanted to have kept count, the number would be too high. The world didn’t give him the chance to save everyone, it wasn’t near impossible, it was impossible.
Not to mention the fact if he tried to keep count that would be the only thing his mind would be able to do. Run the numbers. Tens, no hundreds? Of thousands. Every person lost in the war with the Paranormal Liberation Front. The teachers and mentors, the amassed pro heros, their classmates-no they deserve to be called heroes too.
Izuku shakes his head, trying to rid him of the thoughts that have plagued him for what feels like an eternity. Fall into a rhythm. The step breath step of getting through the day. Making it to the next mark, but there is no mark. Everything is done. All for One is dead. Shigar-Shimura is dead. Touya is dead. Toga is in a coma, unlikely to wake up.
It’s all his fault that they are gone.
He knows this is the only way it could have ended but that doesn’t make taking a life any easier. Seeing the acceptance in their eyes, the fear and muffled cries for those they love. Being a murderer doesn’t mean you aren’t a human with feelings and those you love. Izuku would know first hand.
The thoughts of the last fight with Tenko and Touya laying at his feet with their bloodied hands clasped together follow him as he makes his way through back allies towards his childhood home.
When was the last time he was in Musutafu? When had he actually heard his mom's voice, when had he seen her? Notes couriered by All Might ended six months ago when Izuku went off the grid. Not hearing from his mom was the hardest part. At least he could check the news for updates on UA and his other hero friends.
The names he saw pass over the screen from time to time were lauded for their efforts of bringing peace and safety to civilians. But civilians? The death count was much too high to even attempt naming. The thought of coming home to his mother’s arms was his best friend and worst enemy. A way to get through the day but also a bone deep fear it would never happen.
But today is the day. The near silent trek through what used to be bustling streets is only made bleaker by the sound of sirens coming from every which direction and the cries of people searching for survivors in whatever tragedy they just experienced. It really could be anything, petty crime, a full villain attack, buildings collapsing from previous damage. The police and nation haven’t been able to address most of the problems while dealing with the fall of the Hero Public Safety Commision and the threats to the world they created. What is the cost of one apartment building collapsing versus S rank villains running rampant and tearing the world apart.
Izuku doesn’t have it in him anymore, he doesn’t have the drive, the ability to go help with the situation. He can’t take another loss, not today, no. Today he is Izuku Midoriya, a high school student visiting his mother. Not hero Deku, not vigilante Deku, not the successor to All Might, and he’s not the one people are celebrating unknowingly across the nation, hell the whole world.
It’s too much. It’s been too much for too long.
Every step strains his bruised and exhausted body. But he can rest when he sees Inko again. When he sees his mother safe at home and they are reunited. That’s when he can rest for longer than four hours at a time, to really clean and treat his wounds. She’ll baby him. A smile crosses his face knowing she’s probably waiting there right now with the makings for katsudon in the fridge and a first aid kid on the coffee table. He told her he would come back to him and he fought his damndest to make it back.
Seeing his neighborhood knocks the wind out of them. There are some houses completely demolished and most have taken some sort of damage. But despite that, he sees homes full of people, of life. People trying to retain a sense of normalcy. Mrs Yamamoto’s garden is smaller due to a boulder covering half of the yard, but the rest is well treated. He can see the Daichi family playing some board game on the table through the collapsed wall on the side of their house. He sees human resilience.The thought that maybe everything isn't a lie, that there is for in the world if you look for it.
He sees home. Where he grew up wanting to be like All Might. Where he and his mother watched kdramas every saturday night until he moved out.
He’s running.
He’s running across the street littered with debris because his end goal is just a breath away, he can almost touch it. He can already feel the warmth of his mother’s hug relaxing his tensed form. Well, until he opens the door.
The world stops. His world came to a halt and he doesn’t think he can move. Not when someone is pointing a gun at his mother who’s cowering against the wall.
The man looks at him and raises a hand, electricity threatening him to stay still while he takes in the scene. The intruder might as well have a paralysis quirk because even though Izuku longs to move, to save, to win, his body weighs a thousand pounds. He can see his mother talking to him but he can’t hear her. She’s probably telling him I'm ok honey everything's gonna be alright. I'm just giving this man what he wants and then it’ll be fine. don’t worry izuku don’t do anything to reassure him with the soft voice that represents everything good in the world. He wants to hear it. He wants his mom, so he complies.
The man leads the two of them to where Inko has cash kept in the house. His eyes consistently glance at Izuku searching for something— familiarity? Maybe threat assessment. Regardless, the man's body is more tense than it was when Izuku originally entered the house. Izuku feels his hero senses being pulled at by the thrum of fear in the air, but how can he save his mom when the one most afraid is him?
His mother is so close, the heat from her breath catches against his cheek as they are forced to take a seat in the kitchen. It’s scalding, knowing she's mere centimeters away from him and that even still he can’t keep her safe. The warmth of her breath stings like a slap and he registers the phantom pain as his cause for tears.
He didn’t realize he was moving to wipe away the tears until the robber screams at him to stop and shifts the aim of his gun to Izuku. Hand frozen midway to his face he attempts to explain, apologize, deescalate, dosomething! Do something Izuku! You took down AFO you can get this petty criminal restrained with one eye closed.
He nods at whatever words the man was yelling and every so slowly puts his hand back down in plain sight on the ground.
“Do not follow me when I leave. If you do, I will kill you both with no hesitation.”
Izuku doesn’t move, not even when the man turns around with fatal recognition in his eyes. But it’s not at him like he expected, it's at his mother. “You, you didn’t save my mother when she came to the hospital. You let her die, you killed her you..yo-“
Inko looks so defeated, “I'm sorry about your mother dear. I work very hard to make sure myself or another nurse can get to everyone who needs help. But I’ve- in the past three months I’ve lost more people than I have in my whole career. I tried. I’m tryi-“
B A N G
Izuku’s face feels warm again. He thinks he's crying again, the wet tracks on his face from his teary eyed nature. The man runs out of the house, leaving the door wide open and after a moment, a weight hits his side.
“..m-mom?”
“MOM?”
What remains of the world is heavy and oppressive. Every sound sets his nerves alight but his hero tendencies haven’t been indulged in months. He doesn’t remember the last time he even used OFA. Why should he? What's the point? What does he really have left? He left his friends to find All for One, he left himself on the battlefield when he took his victory over the villains who haunted his future.
And, his mom is gone. She was the only thing left in the world that he cared about, that he could protec-- no he couldn- he didn’t do that. He didn’t stop the guy, he could have pulled his mom out of the way with black whip, he could have taken the guy down right when he got there. But he was so tired. He was so tired, his limits had been broken and reforged again and again in the months he was away with no recuperation. He doesn’t know how he even made it all the way back to his house.
He finds that he doesn’t even blame himself as much as he thought he would for a tragedy that is so obviously his fault. If the Hero Public Safety Commission didn’t make heroics a popularity contest more than a civil service, if the populace thought about each other with kindness rather than self importance, if All Might didn’t take everything on his own shoulders as the Symbol of Peace. Tch.
If All Might would have tried to prepare Izuku for AFO. None of this would have happened if the world was different. And he gave the world everything he had, and in return, its greedy hands took more than he gave. That was his final limit. He couldn’t find it in himself to get up off of his bed, much less respond to his classmates' messages or put on his hero costume again. He couldn’t because if he put it back on, he wouldn’t ever take it off again. He knows Inko would want him to be safe and that dark green suit would just encourage him to jump into every altercation, every rescue, every natural disaster until he doesn’t come back.
He might save a hundred, or even a couple thousand, but it wouldn't compare to the lives he already has weighing him down, to the loss of his mother. It’s his fault she's gone. It’s his fault everyone, everything he cares about is gone. And the only thing he can do to atone for the weight of his sins is to let Deku fade away to history like the rest of their names.
