Their Omega

I also support the matriarchy🤝

Those Bakugou texts for the girls night out party were sooo cute, could you do a version for Kiri, please?

ofc ofc tysm for liking baku's version <3

bitches cant say excuse me // eijirou kirishima smau

their omega

જ⁀➴ chapter ten: birthday boy

alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — baku's bday, you're in pre-heat, fluff, smau + fic, 4k words

m.list

a/n: 'explosives bday' gc from your pov

fic underneath smau

​​Contrary to your hopes, everything was not taken care of. Later that night, you awoke to the scent of smoke and shouting. You rolled out of bed and ran to the kitchen, following that putrid scent. Covering your nose, you walked in and saw Denki furiously fanning a black and smoking cake while Hanta rushed to open the windows and back door.

“What’s going on?” You said with wide eyes. The boys told you they had accidentally burnt the cake. You walked over to Denki and looked down at their charred creation. It was far too burnt to scrape off the black and call it a day. You sighed and told them you would take care of it in the morning.

They apologised profusely — Denki mostly as he was in charge of checking the cake — but you were too tired. You walked out of the kitchen grumbling that it was fine and you would just take care of it (like you should have in the first place).

The next morning, you wake up when the sun starts to rise. Stretching, you hop out of bed and freshen up before heading to the kitchen. You sigh gratefully as your alphas have cleaned up the mess they made last night. You walk over to the fridge and start pulling out ingredients for Katsuki’s breakfast. You’ve been thinking about what you’ll make him since the previous night.

Humming, you get to work. A gruff voice startles you as you crack an egg over the pan.

“What’re you doing up so early?” You turn around, eggshell in hand, and see Katsuki. He’s got a towel draped over his shoulders, sweat dripping down his rippled contours. Those training shorts reveal too much of his contoured thighs for his own good. You can feel your face heat up as you ogle at him. This sight of your alpha, still catching his breath, frowning at you as usual, and very sweaty, has tingles clawing up your skin.

Reflexively, you start purring. Katsuki’s sharp eyes widen as he hears that sweet sound emanating from your chest. You turn around and throw the eggshell in the bin, face aflame.

You attempt to sound confident but your voice comes out as whiny as you say, “Nothing. What are you doing up so early?”

The thump of your alpha’s footsteps on the wooden floor interjects the crackling of the egg in the pan. He wipes his palms on his shorts before placing them on your waist. You hum at the contact, at how warm and large his hands are. They caress your waist, and his damp chest presses against your back.

You pout, “Suki, what’re you doing?! You’re gonna get me all sweaty!” You look back at him, lips pushed together and looking so kissable. Your brow creases even more as you see the lopsided smirk on his lips.

You whine, “What?” He chuckles softly at you and nuzzles your temple with his nose. The softness of his gesture makes you purr louder. You turn back around and flip the egg, your face even hotter and redder than before. Katsuki holds you as you cook. He rests his head on your shoulder like a puppy.

You mumble, “What’s got you in such a good mood this morning?”

He mutters into your neck, “S’nice seeing you before everyone else.” He plants a gentle kiss on your unmarked skin. You moan quietly and relax in his arms. You gently ask him to move, and he does so you can grab a plate and take the egg off the stove. Katsuki watches you intently, memorising your every movement.

As you place the pan back on the stove, he says, “D’you want help?”

“No!” You exclaim too enthusiastically. You gaze at him, taking in the slackness of his jaw and the rise of his brows. The look soon fades as he frowns.

You shake your head, saying, “Suki, I love your cooking. You know that! But, I just wanted to do something nice for you.” You mumble, “And here you go, ruining it all by waking up early.” You’re hoping he misses that (considering his quirk and the toll it must take on his hearing), but he doesn’t.

He grunts, “Say it straight.” You stare at him for a moment before sighing.

You admit, “I was gonna make you breakfast in bed but now I can’t ‘cause you’re up.” He looks at you for a moment before laughing. His bellows resonate with you and bring a smile to your face.

“What?” You say, grinning. He shakes his head and gazes out the window before focusing on you. He comes back over to you and envelops you in his clammy embrace.

He kisses your temple again and mutters, “Make enough for two.” With that, he pulls back and walks away, heading down the hall to the bathroom. You stand there, robbed of the sticky heat of your alpha. His touch lingers on your skin, searing the delicate flesh. You hum, irritated, and shake your head. You can feel a fire swirling in the pit of your stomach. A familiar fire. One that only appears every few months.

Gulping, you resume your cooking. You obey Katsuki’s instructions and cook enough breakfast for the both of you. As you’re setting everything on the table, he stalks back into the kitchen in a fresh shirt and sweatpants. You motion for him to come over, and he sits in his usual spot. You make sure everything looks good before sitting opposite him.

You point to the different dishes, saying, “I made you an omelette, some French toast, and pancakes.” He watches you intently, revelling in the sight of his omega cooking for him and taking care of him. It sends sparks flying from his heart up his throat and to his fingertips and toes.

He starts dishing out the French toast while he grumbles, “You didn’t need to make so much.” You giggle and shake your head. He sets your plate in front of you, and you start cutting into your pancakes. You both eat in comfortable silence. As you reach for the maple syrup, you glimpse Katsuki’s towel-dried hair dripping on his broad shoulders. It makes you giggle, earning you a harsh stare.

“What?” He mutters, mouth half-full of chewed omelette. You shake your head, looking down and stabbing a piece of toast with your fork. He insists, grumbling about how you shouldn’t be laughing at him.

You chuckle, “You’re just so cute, Suki. How can I not?” You grin up at him, enjoying that disarmed look on his face, if only for a moment. Once you’re finished, Katsuki takes your plates over to the sink.

Still sitting at the table, you ask him, “Should we leave the leftovers here for the boys or?” Tch. Your alpha turns around with that deep crease in his brow.

He stomps over to you, grunting, “S’my breakfast. They can’t have any.” He stands next to you, his arms crossed over his chest and muscles deliciously flexed.

You gulp and laugh nervously before muttering, “Sure.” You avert your eyes from those yummy-looking biceps and shoulders, feigning interest in the kitchen table. Your cheeks become rosy from how hot you’re feeling, from how fucking hot your alpha is.

You stutter, “D-do you want me to uh—”

“Why’re you so nervous all of a sudden, doll?” His fingers grasp your chin and tilt your head back. Your wide eyes meet his narrowed ones as he stares at you intensely. You notice the veins in his jaw popping out from how tight he’s clenching it. Those furrowed brows. You whine and pout.

You whisper, “Don’t.” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Don’t what?” He grumbles, that knot in his brow growing. You whine low, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach trickling down your thighs and climbing up your breasts, setting your body alight.

“Please—”

“Woa, what do we have here?” Your heads snap towards the figures lingering in the doorway. Hanta smiles at you two teasingly while Denki stares past his shoulder at the food laid out on the table. The blond ducks around your black-haired alpha and comes over to you and Katsuki.

“Yum!” He exclaims.

Katsuki grumbles, “Don’t even think about it.” Denki gives the angry blond pouty lips and big eyes.

“Pwease,” he says, twirling a strand of his hair around his finger. You laugh, your hand wrapping around Katsuki’s wrist and gently tugging it off your jaw. You gaze back at Denki. He gives you those pleading eyes but you shake your head.

“Not my choice, baby,” you say.

He sighs, “Fiiiinnnneeee.” You chuckle as he plops down where Katsuki was sitting minutes earlier. Hanta tells Denki to scoot over and he does, so now both of them are sitting at the table, staring with ravenous eyes and grumbling bellies at the food that they aren’t allowed to have.

Katsuki sighs, “Can’t you extras cook?” Denki pouts and shakes his head enthusiastically while Hanta shrugs. You grab your angry blond’s hand, feeling the roughness of his skin slide against the softness of yours.

You hold his hand and look up at him as you say, “It’s okay. I’ll just make them something else.” This seems to have the opposite effect of that intended, making your alpha grit his teeth rather than relax his jaw.

He spits out, “Fine. Just save some for Shitty Hair, you pigs.” Denki claps happily, his enthusiasm making you laugh. You give Katsuki a small smile before letting go of his hand and grabbing three more plates. He stalks behind you and takes them from your hands after you turn around. As he sets them down on the table, a certain redhead waltzes into the kitchen.

Smiling, he wishes Katsuki a happy birthday, the other two boys following suit with cheeks full of pancakes. Eijiro sits across from them and starts piling the remaining French toast onto his plate. Katsuki lingers at the side of the table, grumbling to them about interrupting a precious moment.

Hearing that, you giggle and walk back over to him, a bounce in your step. You wrap your hands around his bicep, standing by his side. You rest your head on his meaty arms for a little, listening to the boys’ conversation.

Once everyone finishes eating, you all get dressed and head to the spa. Hanta offers to drive and, of course, takes a wrong turn. Circling back, Katsuki grumbles about how he should have driven. Such makes you all groan about how it’s his birthday and how he should be taken care of. Catching sight of your pout, your angry blond rapidly shuts up and resigns to incoherently muttering his frustrations.

Arriving, you all pile out of the car and head inside. Eijiro gives his name and one of the beauty therapists leads you all to changing rooms. You split up with the boys and head to the women’s changing room, stripping and wrapping the provided robe around your body. It’s nice and thick, cosy. You place your clothes in one of the lockers and head out, finding your alphas in the waiting area.

Soon, you’re called into two separate rooms; you and Katsuki are in one room while the boys are in the other. You smirk as you enter, glad that things turned out this way. You wonder if Eijiro asked for the two to be kept together or if this was just fate.

Under the direction of the beauty therapists, you both lie down on the two beds set out for you. They give you both a full body massage. Your therapist soothes the knots in your shoulders and back, as well as the tension in your calves.

As they work your calves, you hear Katsuki grumbling about not having enough pressure. He grumbles for a few minutes, making you laugh. Luckily, you can’t see the pointed look he gives you. Nor can you see how his features soften as he stares at you for a few seconds too long.

While you turn over to face upwards, you catch a glimpse of the therapist massaging Katsuki’s beautifully scarred and toned shoulders. The sight makes your heart thump wildly in your chest as you settle back down on the bed. Even as the therapist combs your hair back from your face with careful fingers, your heartbeat is off the charts.

You’re not jealous. Those thoughts haven’t even crossed your mind. No, what you feel is a deep sense of yearning. For that to be you one day, giving your strong alpha a relaxing massage after a long day at work. You make a note of that, intent to brush up on your massage skills.

The beauty therapist applies cold cleanser to your face with measured strokes, setting your senses alight with a chilly burn. You sigh with relaxation and pleasure as they wipe off the freezing gel and apply different lotions and serums to your skin. Especially when the therapist uses jade rollers to soothe and de-puff your skin.

When your treatment is finished, the therapists leave the room, giving you and Katsuki time to rouse yourselves from the renewing journey you’ve been on together. Sighing, you look over to him. You grin, seeing how utterly relaxed he is.

You sit up and shift so that you’re facing him. He doesn’t move, and you gaze at him for a few minutes quietly, burning the memory of him like this into your mind. Finally, you clear your throat and call his name. He doesn’t respond so you call his name a bit louder. And then a bit louder.

You hop off the bed and quickly put on your robe before walking up to his bed. You stand beside him, staring down at his angelic face. A smile stretches across your mouth as you lean down, your ear to his chest. He’s breathing slowly and calmly. You jerk back and step away as you giggle.

Regaining your composure, you come back to his side and gaze down at him. You’re tempted to leave him to sleep in the room, but they probably need it back now to prepare for the next clients.

Sighing, you thread your fingers in his hair, gently stroking his locks and thumbing his hairline. Your alpha sighs, and at last, his eyes scrunch and open. Within seconds, they focus on you.

He groans, “Babe, what happened?” His voice is so raspy it threatens the strength in your knees.

You chuckle nervously, your mouth suddenly dry as you say quietly, “You fell asleep.” He grunts and sits up, the towels pooling in his lap and leaving his torso far too exposed for your thin self-control. You gulp as he throws them off and slides off the bed, towering over you.

Before your eyes can dip too low, he grasps your chin and kisses you tenderly. You moan into his lips while your arms wrap around his oily shoulders. Mumbling his name into his mouth, you pull back and look up at him.

Katsuki peppers your face with light kisses before drawing your body into his by your waist. He rests his forehead on the junction of your neck and shoulder, breathing in your sweet scent. Your very sweet scent. He groans, inhaling your musk.

He mutters into your warm skin, “I get it now.” A confused noise escapes from your throat.

“Get what?” You say softly. You can feel the grin on his lips as he presses a kiss to your Adam’s apple.

He murmurs along your jaw, “Making so much f’me this morning. ‘Don’t’.” He chuckles, “Pre-heat.”

“Shut up!” You whisper-shout. You pull back and stare at him hard, a crease in your brow from the wide smirk on his plump lips.

You pout, “Don’t tell anyone, okay?” He laughs derisively at you.

“Not tell anyone? Take one whiff n’ anyone will know. I’m not even your mate n’ I know,” he shrugs. You shove his shoulder hard but, like the solid wall of muscle he is, he doesn’t even budge. He laughs off your feeble attempt at dominance.

You grumble, “You’ll be my mate soon, so shut up. And get dressed.” You glare at him before stalking out of the room and heading to the changing rooms. You take your time getting dressed. Before you return to your alphas, you take a deep breath and steady yourself.

You’re experiencing this odd mix of relaxation from your spa treatment and anxiety over your mates knowing that you’re in pre-heat. You don’t know why you don’t want them to know. They have a right to. They need to know so they can help you through it. But the thought of them knowing scares you. What if they get the wrong idea? What if they force you into intimacy you’re not ready for?

“Okay,” you exhale, speaking to yourself in the mirror. “You know that they would never do that, so stop freaking yourself out. Everything is gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be fine.” You brace yourself and leave the changing room, meeting your smiling and laughing (except for a grumbling Katsuki as per usual) in the lobby. Eijiro foots the outrageously expensive bill and you all leave happy.

Denki holds your hand and won’t stop yapping about how relaxing the treatment was as you walk back to the car. You giggle and lean your head on his shoulder after he clicks your seatbelt in, listening mindlessly to his rambling. Katsuki keeps an eye on you in the rear vision mirror (he’s driving this time).

From the passenger seat, Hanta suggests going out for lunch. Your alphas are quick to agree, and now Denki yaps about the ramen place nearby. You hum and let them decide. Eijiro squeezes your knee from beside you and asks for your input, you hum and reassure him that you’re content with whatever they choose.

You end up having sushi for lunch at a nice restaurant near your house. When you get home, you book it to the kitchen, dragging Eijiro with you and telling Denki to keep “explosive foul-mouthed anger issues chef” occupied. Your pick of alpha though has Katsuki’s eyes trained on you, curious if there would be a repeat of your time with Eijiro last week (which there will not be btw (at least not right now hehe)).

You two decide on a fresh strawberry and cream cake for your angry blond. You get to work on the cream while Eijiro chops the strawberries. When the cake is finally in the oven, you’re both covered in flour.

Cream covers your fingertips as you boop Eiji’s nose just so you can grab his face and lick it off. Your affection has him drawing you tight into his arms and kissing your cheek. Your sticky palms press into his “MAN APRON” as you lean back, his lips pressing against yours.

Your kiss is gentle. Eijiro pulls back first and rests his forehead on yours. His long, tanned fingers stroke your soft skin while he tells you he’s going to put on a timer. You hum in response, and he walks off to find his phone.

You put the bowl of cream in the fridge and clean up the mess in the kitchen. When he returns, he washes the dishes and you dry them, grinning all the while. You hum softly to the song stuck in your head and he listens quietly, in love with how comfortable you are around him now.

You two wander into the living room as the cake cooks, walking in on an intense game of UNO.

Katsuki jabs his finger into Hanta’s chest, yelling, “YOU FUCKIN’ CHEATED, TAPEFACE. YOU CAN’T PUT A FUCKING PLUS FOUR ON A PLUS TWO.”

Hanta leans back with the pressure of your angry blond’s finger, defending himself, “Yes you can, Bakubro. I do it all the time. Everyone does it.” He looks at you two with pleading eyes as you sit at the kotatsu.

“Eijiro-kun tell him,” Hanta pleads, nodding to Katsuki.

Your redhead chuckles and says, “I don’t know man I don’t normally stack.”

Katsuki grunts, “THAT’S RIGHT, YOU FUCKWIT. NO STACKING, just pick up two.” Hanta looks at you with big eyes, silently begging you to vouch for him. You shrug, not really in the mood to fight with Katsuki over stacking or no stacking in UNO.

Your angry blond wins the round (of course), and Hanta deals you and Eijiro in for the next one. The entire time, Katsuki’s eyes are on you. He can’t stop staring at you, and he can’t afford to lose this round. As much as he doesn’t want to, he crushes his baby girl with three pick-up fours since you’re sitting next to each other. After picking up your twelfth card, you’re begging Hanta or Denki to switch with you, but they won’t.

Saved by the timer going off, you call it quits for the round and dash off the kitchen. You put back on your flour-stained apron and a pair of oven mitts before taking the cake out of the oven and placing it on a cooling rack. You stick a skewer in the cake and grin as it slides out smoothly. You leave it to cool for a few hours, heading back to the living room and rejoining UNO for the next few rounds. When it becomes apparent that no one but Katsuki is winning this game, you all switch to playing charades.

After spending 20 minutes trying to guess “toaster” from Denki’s foul acting, you head back to the kitchen and grab the cream from the fridge. Eijiro trails in after you and cuts up the last few strawberries while you use an icing spatula to spread the cream all over the cake. He decorates the top with strawberries, and you two step back to admire your work.

You squeal and jump into his arms, happy that it looks so good. Your alpha laughs and pulls you into a sweet kiss. He then releases you and grabs the plates and cutlery while you go to the living room and tell everyone the cake is ready.

You strap a birthday hat underneath Katsuki’s chin while Eijiro places the cake you worked so hard on in front of him. You all sing an embarrassed Katsuki an off-key happy birthday, which has him red-faced and whining about your shit vocals.

Your birthday boy cuts his cake and plates a slice for all of you. Katsuki’s eyes widen as he takes a bite. He stares at you, the shocked look on his face making you cover your mouth and laugh.

You chirp, “You like it?” He hums and takes another bite, quiet until he’s finished. You can’t stop smiling as you eat together, overjoyed to spend this time with them.

Afterwards, you give Katsuki his presents. Denki got him the newly released official folder for All Might trading cards, Hanta bought him a Hello Kitty Lego set, and you got him a cocoa-chestnut candle. He grunts out his thanks and even gives you a little forehead kiss to express his gratitude.

That night after dinner, you all curl up on the couch and watch an action movie of Katsuki’s choosing. You cuddle into his side, his arm awkwardly slung around your shoulders initially before he eases up, holding you close without shame.

Your eyes are droopy as the movie drags on, the shouts of men and sounds of gunshots fading into the background of your tired mind. You sigh into your alpha’s pec. He gazes down at you, smirking possessively. He hikes the blanket up to your chin as you melt further into his body.

By the end of the film, you’re sound asleep in his arms.

Your alpha whisks you away to his bed, lays you down in it, and gently kisses your forehead. He then gets ready to sleep and climbs into bed with you.

As he slowly wraps his arms around you, you sigh into his touch and inch closer to him, blissfully unaware. With slightly pink cheeks, he pulls you close and kisses the side of your head. He mumbles into your hair for you to keep sleeping before closing his eyes and resting peacefully.

taglist - @qyuin @nervoussangel @xxdiaqiaoxx @misscaller06 @kksmush @cielito--lindo @kennygou @tnywabbit @ita606 @sweet-apple-acres

this was so good!!! the explicit consent and toji's patience!! the intimate atmosphere ahhhh i loved it! i love the writing style!

i feel like so many of his smuts are focused on him being really mean and rough, and this is such a nice contrast to those.

Toji and his shy girl cuddle fucking WHO SAID THAT

A/N: EEHEE I heard it too 🤭 Even if the echo took a while to reach me 😔 No, but really, I loved this! It's been a while since i've written out a request 😅 I'm excited to start trying some of these, again :)

Thank you for sending in this request 💙

Toji and His Shy Girl

"Hey, you," Toji says, grinning like a menace at the way your body minimally jolts, like he scared you. "You don't like me or something?"

You turn to look at him, a barely there crease between your brows. "What? I do. What do you mean?"

"I mean, why don't you wanna be with me? You're sitting on your own island over there, while i'm over here... all alone... feeling like chopped liver."

He's cute, you think. Playfully dramatic enough to make you giggle. It's always nice to know he wants you around, too, when you keep your distance to give him that choice.

"I just thought you would want some space, is all," you explain. "This is a pretty long movie, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Would sitting with me make you uncomfortable?" Toji asks.

"No," you respond, though the thought of sitting next to him or on him, has your heart rate picking up. Most of the time, Toji wants it to be the latter, and when this happens, it feels like he's peeking at your soul. You feel like every nerve in your body is tingling and like your skeleton is buzzing. You know he can sense your nervousness, most of the time, and yet he doesn't take it easy on you. His patience, his charm, and his irresistible way of trying to seduce you—none of it ever gets easier to withstand without you feeling flustered.

"You're comfortable, I'm comfortable. We're both comfortable, so, come closer, sweetheart." He sees hesitance flash through your features, before you finally give in and start inching closer.

"Come on. Closer, baby," Toji instructs, watching as you continue to inch towards him. "Look at all this space. Get rid of it."

He chuckles at the properness of your folded hands in your lap, when you sit on the edge of the couch cushion, in front of his legs. "You're gonna stop there and keep watching the movie all uncomfortable?"

"It's fine," you say, smiling at him before facing forward, again. You can feel him staring at you as you try to focus on the movie. His hand goes to your thigh, an act that has your heart beating rapidly in your chest, close to being heard in your ears. He tugs at your sweatpants, earning your attention.

"I'll spell it out for you, doll. I want you here, lying right in front of me. Wanna cuddle with you and shit." You return your gaze to the screen and though anybody would think that it's rude, because it seems like you're ignoring him, Toji knows what it means. He knows it's hard for you to hold eye contact with him, sometimes, and that you looking away gives you time to collect your thoughts and prepare what you want to respond with.

"But you won't be able to see the movie," you say, as a last ditch effort to let him enjoy the movie without obstructing his view and invading his personal space.

"We'll make it work. Just come here. Please?" He pats the spot in front of him, directing you to lie right where he wants you.

"Okay," you say, more to yourself than to him. You scoot down a little more, before lying down on your side, on the exact spot he said he was wanted you. In an instant, you're swallowed up by him. He pulls you in so that you're pressed up against him, his leg overlaps yours, and his face goes straight for your neck.

"T-Toji, I know you can't see the movie. I can go back, if you want."

"Mm-mm. Nope. It's all good. Got what I need," he assures, low against your neck, a hand planted on your stomach. "Pretty baby," he murmurs, pressing kisses onto your skin. "You smell so fucking good."

You feel like some sort of soothing toy for him, with the way any time you sit with him, you end up stealing his focus and withstanding the way he mouths at your skin and runs his hands all over you.

"You comfortable? Have enough space?" He asks, kissing your earlobe. You nod in response and he hums, a click of his tongue and a couple pats to your stomach, expressing his disapproval of the nonverbal confirmation. "Say it, baby. Yes or no?"

"Sorry. Yes, i'm comfortable," you confirm, in a manner more to his liking.

"Mm... you're so good to me, doll," Toji praises, adding a kiss to the appreciation.

He understands that sometimes it's difficult for you to say things out loud and you'll dismiss your own discomfort for the sake of not having to verbalize what is bothering you. It's why he's so adamant on hearing you talk, over seeing you nod or shake your head in response to things. He's working on this with you. He's heard 'sorry' so many times, now, and each time, he rejects your apology, deeming it unnecessary, because he knows you're trying.

Things are still for a few moments. You get fully comfortable, lying there on the couch, with Toji spooning you, and manage to refocus on the movie. His hand goes under your shirt, meeting the warmth of your skin. It's a gesture that disturbs the calmness of your heart, as well as your focus on the TV, again.

"This okay?" He asks, caressing your stomach, occasionally pinching it, gently.

"Mhm," you hum, in response, before pretending to pay attention to the movie. You're too distracted by the dragging of his fingertips and the goosebumps he lures onto your skin. You're sure he can feel them, too, because his hand starts wandering higher up your torso, like he wants to get more reactions from you. You shift minimally when his fingers slide beneath the elastic band of your sports bra, grazing the bottom part of your breast.

"Still comfortable?" Toji asks, keeping his hand still until he receives a response from you.

"Yeah... you're okay," you assure, once again, resting your hand on his forearm. Your breath hitches when his fingertips brush against your nipple. Toji grins at the involuntarily squeeze you offered his arm, finding amusement in the way your body reacts to his touch.

Toji chuckles, lowly, at all your sudden fidgeting. "Does that feel good, mama? Want me to keep going?" He asks, planting a kiss on your shoulder. You're not stopping him. If anything, he can feel you gently pushing his arm so that his entire hand goes up your bra. "It's alright. You can tell me," he says, encouraging you to respond.

"It feels good. Please..." Your soft voice halts, a shuddered exhale released through your nose.

"Mhm, give me more. Please, what?" He says, baiting a more elaborate response from you. "Just saying 'please' doesn't tell me what you need, pretty."

"Please... keep touching me." You cringe, internally, the second the words come out. You don't even realize how proud Toji is or get to indulge in the praise he offers, because you're too busy overthinking what you just said.

"That was perfect," Toji murmurs, scattering light kisses onto your neck. His enormous hand stretches your bra, and grabs ahold of your breast. "I'll give you anything you want, sweetheart. Anything. The trick is... you gotta ask for it."

That alone is enough to teach you another lesson on not always being able to get what you want. It's not always so easy for you to ask Toji for things. He's seen you get frustrated, because of this. It happens, even if your frustration is never loud and you don't raise your voice or throw a tantrum. It's quite the opposite. Too many questions to your initial request, results in you shaking your head, as if to say, 'never mind. I'll do it myself'. Having to repeat yourself too many times, gets a similar result. Even in times when he's just asking you to describe something more, you lose patience with yourself and your inability to communicate what you need, efficiently, and essentially give up on explaining it to him, doing it yourself, instead.

It's times like these that really help you out in that aspect. You want something that you can make yourself feel, but receiving it from Toji makes it so much better, because of the element of surprise. You give him access to your entire body and he gives you everything you could ever want in terms of pleasure. You never know where he's going to touch you and what he's going to touch you with.

"You understand?" Toji asks, seeking comprehension from you. A small whimper interrupts the silence of an expected response. "I know. Tell me," he encourages.

Your grip on his arm gets tighter and more of your restrained soft sounds reach his ears as he keeps rolling your stiffened peak between his fingers. You gasp when he shifts his attention to your other breast and writhe in his arms. "Y-Yes—please—yes, Toji. I understand."

"Sensitive thing." He chuckles. "Look at that little arch. Bet you're soaked, already, huh?"

"Oh... god, i'm sorry," you mumble, relaxing your back against him, again. You feel like you could implode with how much attention you're being given. You just want to shrink and hide under the couch, and just watch the rest of the movie from there.

"You're fine, doll. I know the slightest touch does a lot to you," he says, brushing over your nipple, knowing that your reaction will emphasize his point. "You nervous?"

You groan in response to the question and turn your head so that your face is planted in the pillow, earning another deep chuckle from Toji.

"I'm not gonna eat you, mama," he jokes, grinning at the way your body trembles with contained amusement. "I mean... I can't lie and say I haven't thought about it before. You're sweeter than any candy or cookie—even cake. You're sweeter than all of it, but I need you here with me, so I can't... I won't eat you, alright?" His method of getting you to lighten up worked enough to lure giggles from you. "Yeah, there you go. Relax. Just wanna love on you," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your shoulder. "Wanna make you feel good. You want that, gorgeous?"

Throughout your time with Toji, you've learned that he's a very hands on man. He's constantly seeking your warmth and softness, because physical touch is his love language and he'll put in the work to get you to comfortably connect with him that way, too. You find that sometimes when you're lying in his bed, ready for the sleep part of sleeping over, he'll stick his head up your shirt and just fall asleep like that on your chest. It's easy for him to relax when he can hear your heart wildly beating in your chest. Sometimes, randomly, when you're just sitting next to him, he'll pick you up and set you down on him, just to watch you get flustered when he starts talking to you within such a close proximity. He loves the way you scramble to escape his sight, always ending up with your face buried in his neck.

"Aw, don't go all quiet on me, now, pretty. You know better. Say what's on your mind." His hand slides out of your bra and goes back down to your stomach, the roughness of his palm rubbing your soft skin. You don't like making him beg for you. He's patient enough with your nervous tendencies, you know he doesn't deserve it.

"I want you, Toji," you say, softly. It's a huge contrast to the hammering going on in your chest and the annoying rhythm in your ears.

"Yeah? Keep fucking going, baby. How do you want me?"

"Please," you mumble, reverting back to the familiarity of simplicity.

"No, not like that. Give me a little more," Toji clarifies.

"I... I want you to touch me... and make me feel good. Want you to feel good, too."

You feel and hear the rumble of his laugh behind you, a sound that makes your fingertips tingle and your stomach erupt with butterflies all over again.

"You precious angel. You want me to fuck you?"

You don't know how long you can last with your heart beating so fast. It's a miracle that it hasn't exploded, with how it's almost always racing when you're around Toji.

You feel like your face is on fire, but you nod, and offer a soft, yet, clear, "yes, please," giving Toji the consenting words he's been listening closely for.

"Alright, ma. You just focus on the rest of the movie and i'll take care of you, 'kay?"

"Mhm," you hum, in response. You pull on the drawstring of your pajama bottoms and begin pulling them down with one hand. Toji watches with a sly smirk on his face as he feels you shift around, more of your skin coming into view. This is your effort. This is what makes him love you so damn much. You try for him. He knows your heart is probably in shambles, as you kick the article off and wait for what's to come, but you're showing him that you want this, and that means beyond everything to him.

"You're so perfect, my girl," he says, pressing kisses to your ear. "So, so perfect..." he trails off when his fingers meet the wetness of your panties. He was right. You're utterly soaked. His hand dips into your underwear, instantly greeted by your warmth as he keeps digging. Two fingers drag through your slit, back and forth, for just long enough to have you fidgeting as he collects a sample of your sweetness. Once your thighs attempt to shut around his hand, craving more, he pulls it out and admires the glossy coating on his fingers. Without hesitation, he brings the digits into his mouth, a low hum of satisfaction leaving him as he licks them clean. His cock is throbbing in his pants, straining mercilessly against his boxers as he savors the aftertaste of you on his tongue.

"Straight up fucking sugar," Toji murmurs, as he hastily starts pulling down his own pants, ready to get a feel of what he just tasted. There's a breathiness in his voice, urgency that you can't process, because you can barely believe he sounds that way after tasting you. Then you feel it—the monster he packs, pressing against you.

"I'm all hard, just for you, pretty," he murmurs in your ear, as he starts grinding his bulge against your ass. "Feel that?" He groans. "It's all for you. All yours." He plants a kiss on your neck and halts the movement of his hips against you. His hand returns beneath your shirt, a slow drag up your abdomen, towards your chest. His fingers dip beneath the elastic once more and splay over your breast, squeezing. He can feel the stutter in your chest as he feels up the entirety of it. You keep fidgeting against him, and he recognizes this as your way of saying you need more.

"You ready for me?" He asks, still toying with your stiffened, sensitive peaks.

"Ready," you respond, maintaining your voice as steady and clear as possible. You squeeze his hand through your shirt for deeper assurance.

Toji smiles softly at your little gesture and pulls his hand out of your shirt. Just as he did when he was directing his touch towards your chest, he follows the same path down, tracing your curves until his hand makes it way between your legs. He moves the gusset of your underwear aside, an act that has you shaking your foot against the couch cushion.

"Relax, sweet girl," Toji hums, a low chuckle following. He lowers his boxers enough to pull his throbbing, drooling cock out and smears the precum that beads on his tip all over his length. Once it's all covered he guides his tip to the warm, slick ridden space between your legs. After running it through your slit a few times, to hear the squelching sounds and your little whimpers when he catches your clit, he slowly starts sinking into you.

"There, baby," Toji murmurs. His warm palm rubs the softness of your stomach and he scatters wet little kisses on your shoulder and your neck, all while he continues feeding your cunt his inches. "You're so fucking cute," he coos, listening closely to the sound of your little whimpers and gasps. "Fuck..." he groans, once his hips are flush against you. He can feel the way you clench and flutter around his pulsing cock, making the fit even more snug for seconds at a time.

"All good, little lady?" He asks, pinching your goosebump covered stomach.

"Mhm," you hum, a chime of your giggle following.

Toji's hold on you is secure. He has you. Warm and gentle caresses and brushes of his fingers on your skin prove it, along with the way he languidly grinds his hips against you, as if to remind you that you're connected in the most physically intimate way. It's not like you could ignore it, anyway. You feel all of him. His warmth, his strength, his company. It's impossible to ignore Toji.

"This movie's pretty boring, huh?" He asks, not even paying attention to what's going on, like he hasn't been since you crawled into his arms.

"You're not even watching," you reason, smiling at the kisses he presses to your ear.

"Got a reaaally good distraction right in front of me." He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. "So warm and pretty and mmm... Can't focus on anything else," he purrs.

"It's okay. You can choose the next... the next one, too..." you gasp at the slow thrusts he offers. With every roll of his hips, his cock slides out just about halfway before sheathing back into the velvety warmth of your walls.

"I don't want to watch TV, anymore. Wanna watch you," he murmurs, monitoring your reactions to his movement. Every twitch, every shift of your legs against his. It's adorable, the way you push your face just a little bit more into the pillow when he tries to get a peek at you.

"Like that, baby?" He murmurs, a deep groan following. "Mhm? Yeah, I know," he says, like he's responding to your moan.

"Toji," you hum out, an unintentional amount of sultriness dripping off his name.

"Fucking- god, you sound so pretty, mama. Let me hear that again. Do it again."

His hips pick up the pace a little, just enough to coax more of those melodic sounds of yours. His hand dips lower, proceeding down the front of your underwear, his thick fingers gliding down towards your slippery clit. It doesn't take much of this electric addition to your pleasure to have you squirming and writhing against him. It's hard not to want to squish his hand between your thighs.

You whimper, a slight arch curving your back. Your clammy, shaky hands grip onto the couch cushion beneath you, your knuckles protruding from the force you put into your hold. You think he's on the brink of devouring you—absorbing you— with how he's holding you like you'll teleport into space if he lets go for a second.

"Say my name," he says, calmly, directly in your ear. "Call for me, sweetheart. Who's touching you? Who's making you feel like this?"

"T-Toji," you obediently pronounce, meekly, yet, to the man's utmost satisfaction.

"Again—fuck, baby—again," he groans, speeding up his fingers on your clit. He knows the motions spiked your pleasure because of how your body tensed up against him.

Sloppy kisses are pressed to your nape, as well as the side of your neck, where you know fully well that he must have left a plethora of marks already. You can hear the consistent sharp breaths he releases through his nose as he begins to desperately roll his hips into you, chasing what's coming up on him ridiculously fast. He's not aggressive—not entirely soft—but there's just enough movement to where you can hear a slight creak in the couch.

"Toji," you croon, softly. "T-Toji, Toji," you repeat, a high pitched whimper ending your little chain of his name.

"Oh, you're so fucking sweet, doll. So fucking sweet..." he mutters, his voice deep enough to make goosebumps spread anew, all over you. He hums at the feeling of your cunt erratically clenching around him. It's a tell tale sign—along with the frequency of your precious little sounds—of how you're right there, about to cum all over his twitching cock.

Toji loves how flustered you get when he has you tell him that you're about to cum, but he also loves the abruptness that comes with you being so overwhelmed by his touch and how he handles you, that for a few seconds you tense up and release all the sounds that bubble up in your chest, caving to the relentless amount of pleasure you feel without a warning.

"You're my pretty girl," Toji says, lowly, grinning when that's all it takes for you to gasp and arch off his front. Your body trembles and your thighs squeeze around his hand when his fingers continue to rub your clit. His tip just continues to prod at the sensitive spot within you, further intensify the sensation coursing through you. You're aware of how your moans have gotten louder and attempt to muffle them with the pillow, but your breathy little cries can be heard, regardless.

They spur on Toji's own release. His hand comes out of your underwear to avoid overstimulating you and glides up your abdomen, aiming towards your chest. He grabs ahold of one of your breasts, his hand smothering the entire thing as he squeezes and kneads it. You can hear his breathing grow heavier, his thrusts more punctuated, and a little faster in pace. The creaking of the couch is more frequent, as are his groans in your ear. His hold on you is tight. With his forearm having brought you back as close as you can be to him, you're locked in. With a few more thrusts, into your dripping wet warmth, he's spilling his load into you, breathy, deep voiced expletives tumbling off his lips as smears your gooey walls with all the warm, creamy substance.

"F-Fuck..." he groans, slowing the roll of his hips to a languid grind. "I got you," he says, chuckling at the gasp you let out from being filled even more. He drags unfocused, wet kisses over your shoulder and stills his hips entirely with a heavy breath. "Got you, mama." He loosens his hold on you, allowing you to breathe and move a little more freely. "Good?"

"Mhm. Good," you assure.

"Good. Gimme a kiss," he requests, smirking at the sound of your tittering. "What? You laughing at me 'cause I want a little smooch?"

"No," you say, through soft, but, more audible giggling.

"You promise?" He says, grinning at the slight tremble of your shoulders as your twinkles of laughter continue. "I'll let it slide, just this once. Now, give me a kiss, baby."

With a smile lingering on your face—the aftermath of your short giggle fit—you lie back a little and crane your neck as much as you comfortably can. Toji leans in the rest of the way and presses his lips to your sweet, lip balm layered ones, brushing them over and over as if he's parched and you're a glass of water. Both of your bodies react to the spark of desire reigniting through the gentle gesture. You can feel him throbbing inside you, while he can feel you clenching around him. His hand pawing at your chest makes butterflies swarm in your stomach and fuels the fluttering going on below.

You hear the dramatic background music of the movie's end credits and break the kiss, facing forward. You realize now that you paid just as much attention as he did—almost none—even when you agreed to keep watching as he touched you.

"Play another boring one," Toji says, behind you, already nipping at your ear, because your attention isn't solely on him anymore.

"But you won't watch it," you say, shuddering at the chill that runs down your spine, when you feel his lips behind your ear.

"That's the point."

their omega

જ⁀➴ moodboard

alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, 4M1F, smau + fic

m.list

taglist - @qyuin @nervoussangel

okay so I'm thinking of writing an omegaverse fic where the reader (omega) is sold to the bakusquad (alphas). it would be about how the reader is scared at first but then begins to feel more comfortable cause the guys reassure her that she's safe with them (maybe eventual smut? idk). I'm thinking of adding a bit of smau as well but idk.

but eijiro as your gym crush and he helps you do those fuck ass bulgarian split squats like the manliest man he is.

it was another day at the gym. you usually go around midday when it’s the quietest, so you can focus solely on your workout. yea, that’s the only reason why. not because of a certain tall, handsome, muscular, red-haired sweetie pie you’re totally crushing on. i mean, not crushing on, obviously. ahem.

you gulp as your eyes find the pump of his biceps while he curls them with ungodly large dumbbells. you’re not ovulating. but seeing how fucking juicy those muscles look, especially in that forbidden muscle tee, you might as well be. the low lighting casts shadows that play hide and seek in the crevices of his arms and veins.

you gaze down, bright red spreading across your cheeks as you internally scold yourself for checking him out. an innocent man, just tryna get through his workout. as you’re tryna get through yours. shit! was that four or six? you do three more reps, just in case. you lick your sweaty lips while wiping your nape, unceremoniously rolling out of the leg press.

little did you know that the redhead you’re crushing on has had his soft eyes trained on you in the mirror for the entirety of his set.

a light blush dusts his cheeks, flattered by your excessive staring (but he’ll blame it on lifting so heavy). he sees the fitting booty shorts you’ve got on today, a stark contrast to the sweatpants or flares you usually wear. the curve of your muscles, the way they’re visible as you stand up, your quads and glutes looking so plump — he can feel the saliva pooling in his mouth.

you grab your towel and drink bottle before heading to the benches, right where your gym crush is placing down his dumbbells. your heart beats rapidly in your chest, your face heating up even more as you walk to the opposite end of the dumbbell rack and grab a pair of 4kgs. returning to your bench, you exchange a smile and a small wave with him.

you place your foot in the centre of the bench and start your set of bulgarian split squats, trying to ignore his presence just a couple of benches over. you train your eyes on the spot in front of you, willing yourself to keep a straight spine. but as you hear him grunt, you can’t help but gaze up.

your redhead’s doing shoulder presses. your favourite. you bite your lip as you drive your hips forward, ogling at every flex of his muscles, especially those veiny forearms and hands. fuck! you keep losing track of your reps. you add on an extra two but lose your balance as you’re coming back up.

awkwardly, you hop forward on one leg, dropping the dumbbell as you try to centre yourself. your sudden loss of composure doesn’t go unnoticed by a certain someone.

as you pick up the dumbbell and chuck it on the bench, he softly calls to you, “hey, are you okay?” you whip around and gaze up, looking into his crimson eyes. for a second, you forget to breathe, in awe of his beauty. he has such a nice jawline and cheekbones, and those long eyelashes are too kill for. you could swoon at any moment.

you stutter as you point at yourself pathetically, “m-me?” he nods, grinning warmly.

“yea. you had a bit of fall. are you feeling alright? do you need a hand or?” he stretches his hand out to you as if to steady you but you’re already steady. on the outside that is. on the inside, you’ve become a swirling mess of half-finished sentences and pounding heartbeats. you stare at his calloused and scarred palm, blood rushing to your cheeks.

you mutter, “o-oh no. that’s okay. i’m fine. um, yea thank you. thanks for checking up on me.” you slowly meet his eyes once more. he shakes his head, still smiling wide with those sharp teeth. they’re kinda cute, you think.

he says, “you don’t have to thank me. it’s my duty as a man to make sure you’re okay.” you blink at him dumbly as you chuckle, taken aback by this sentiment. he continues, “can i give you some pointers?”

your eyes widen as you utter, “y-yea, sure!” you watch as he shifts slightly closer to grab the dumbbells and demonstrate a few things you need to be mindful of.

as you listen, you’re torn between interpreting this as a mansplain or a helpful explanation. but as he continues on and answers your questions about form, you decide that indeed, he is just trying to help you.

as you try his technique, he stands there, observing your movements and gently guiding you to do better. shivers run up and down your spine as he carefully grips your shoulders, angling your body more forward to shift the focus of the split squat onto your glutes, rather than your quads.

by the end of his mini pt session, you’re feeling more confident about this movement than you are about your future. grinning, you chirp, “thanks for your help! i really appreciate it.” you stretch your hand out as you introduce yourself, “my name’s y/n, by the way.”

his much larger hand envelops yours as he shakes it firmly. you take note of how he doesn’t squeeze the life out of your hand. instead, he just holds it, not too tightly or too loosely. your heart stammers. “eijiro,” he smirks.

“eijiro,” you repeat, feeling his name in your mouth, tasting it and memorising the flavour for weeks to come. you exhale, “it’s nice to finally talk to you. i’ve seen you around a lot.”

“yea,” he chuckles.

you ask him, “so, what do you do for work?”

his jaw slackens and his short brows raise as he stammers, “uh just, you know, the usual.”

you giggle in disbelief, “the usual?” you’ve since let go of each other’s hands. now, he rubs the back of his neck, his eyes averted to one of the nearby squat racks. he’s thinking about how to tell you he’s a pro hero without telling you he’s a pro hero.

“i, uh, work in the justice system,” he mutters. your features soften with a sense of knowing.

you grin, “oh, the justice system? i see. that’s pretty cool. must take a toll on you, huh?” you gently elbow his arm, finding it to be much harder than you were expecting.

he laughs nervously, licking his lips before saying, “yea, it can sometimes. but i wouldn’t have it any other way.” just then, his phone rings obnoxiously in his pocket. he gives you apologetic eyes as he pulls it out. reading the name lighting up the screen, he hastily answers while giving you a thumbs up and walking off.

while you’re grabbing your gym bag, you bump into each other again. he apologises, sheepishly remarking how unmanly that was of him to take a phone call mid-conversation. you shrug it off and reassure him it’s fine, even suggesting he can make it up to you with a coffee date. he enthusiastically agrees and you two exchange numbers, intent on arranging a time soon.

you stride out of the gym with the biggest grin plastered on your lips and scream like a teenage girl once you shut your car door. for the rest of the day, you’re in a good mood, all because of the ten minutes you spent talking to this one man. your future man.

a/n: SEARCHING for a gym crush rn but I workout in the morning with all the millennial moms and dads and oldies😔 love all of you but why can't guys my age workout in the morning😭😭😭

valentine's day with the boys

shoto, denki, katsuki, shinsou, shiggy, kiri, izuku, tamaki, tenya, touya, hanta x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — fluff, college au, 2.7k words

a/n: happy valentine's day!! sloppy kisses for all of you mwah. i have over 200 followers now which is actually insane. thank you so much for all of your support! i hope this feeds you well.

todoroki shoto

⭑.ᐟ he has been eyeing you for a few months now and makes an effort to speak to you most days, even though you do most of the talking.

for valentine's day, he gets you an expensive perfume and lipstick he thinks compliments you so well (pays with his dad’s card ofc).

the day before valentine’s, he catches up with you after class and asks you to take a walk with him. he leads you to one of the quiet gardens and presents you with the gifts he bought for you.

“can i be your valentine?” he says quietly. he's blushing a little as he stares at you. you nod, thanking him and reassuring him that you’d love for him to be your valentine.

on your valentine’s date, you wear the perfume and lipstick he got you (they suit you so well!). he surprises you with a beautiful bouquet of red roses and takes you to his favourite noodle place. he gets their signature yakisoba (duh) and makes recs for you. you try his soba and moan in delight, stunning the poor boy who’s so nervous rn that he’s actually going out with you. he listens to you yap with stars in his eyes, more than content to get drunk on your voice

the night ends with a tender hug and a promise to go out again sometime.

kaminari denki

⭑.ᐟ he has been stuck in the friend zone for the past year. literally trying to rizz you up every chance he gets but is rejected every time (he cries laughs it off).

the day before valentine’s, you enlist denki’s help to make some goodies for your uni’s bake sale tomorrow.

he confesses his love to you via a heart-shaped jam cookie, telling you how he’s been in love with you since you met and that all those times he asked you out weren’t jokes. his feelings just spill over as he holds the warm cookie in his hands, gazing at it with rosy cheeks.

“i just-fuck-i really like you y/n and i want to be your valentine. can i—” you pick up the cookie from his palm and take a bite. your eyes widen because it tastes good. you bring the other side up to his half-open mouth and shove it in. he chews on the delicious cookie but, almost chokes on it as you giggle and tell him that you like him too, that you’d love for him to be yours.

on valentine’s day, you two help out with the bake sale. afterwards, you two walk around campus, handing out the leftover goodies to anyone in sight. you then book it back to your place for the night and make dinner together (as if he cooks).

after dinner, you two cuddle up on the couch and watch a rom-com.

bakugou katsuki

⭑.ᐟ he’s been tolerating you for a while. it’s only when hanta suggests asking you to be his valentine that bakugou realises how much he wants you.

the day before valentine’s, he waves you over during hockey practice (arf arf arf for hockey player bakugou omfg yummy yum bark bark rawr rattling my cage). you point to yourself, mouthing “me”. he just smirks and saunters up to you.

once you’re within reach, he tugs you close and smashes his lips on yours. you meet his rough kiss with wide eyes before softening and melting into his warm embrace.

when he pulls away, he demands that you be his valentine, “this shit is for losers but, you’re my valentine, alright?” he grunts. you blink at him, unable to think straight. seeing that dumb look on your face, he tugs you back into another passionate kiss. when he pulls back this time, you nod and whisper that you’ll be his.

on valentines day, you two go to a museum together (because you think history is cool or whatever) and have lunch afterwards.

the date ends with a sweet kiss as you have a new bf now hehe.

shinsou hitoshi

⭑.ᐟ he’s been working on a new song for valentine’s day (inspired by you ofc). he asks you to come over to his place a few days before valentine’s so he can show it to you. toshi knows how much you love hearing him play.

he’s peeking out his bedroom window, watching for any sight of you at least ten minutes before you agreed to meet him. when you show up, he rushes down the stairs and orders everyone not to open the door.

he invites you inside while running his hands through his hair and leads you to the garage. you sit down on the chewed-out sofa and watch him excitedly as he plays his latest song on his guitar, singing with a delicious rasp. he keeps his eyes on you the entire time. when he’s finished, you ask him what inspired him.

“you did, kitten. i want you to be my valentine… n’ maybe something more. how does that sound?” he says, smirking. you’re stunned by the fact that he feels this way about you. you giggle and stutter nervously about how much you would like that.

on valentines day, you spend the day in toshi's garage. he teaches you how to play the guitar on one of his older ones. he ends up tickling you and lying on top of you on his sofa, peppering you with kisses and whispering sweet-nothings.

congratulations, you have acquired a hot lead guitarist bf.

shigaraki tomura

⭑.ᐟ holy moly has this man been pining for you for far too long. he’s been overthinking asking you to be his valentine since the start of the year.

a week before valentine's day, you offhandedly mention that you like snake/spider bites when chatting with toga on the way to class. shiggy – being the loser that he is – was trailing behind you two, eavesdropping.

after class, he finds touya and asks to take him to a good piercer. that afternoon, he’s gritting his teeth as he gets his lip pierced with touya standing in the corner, filming (like the little shit he is).

the next day, you block shiggy from entering class. you stand in front of him, rocking to the side when he tries to get past you. he hides beneath his cap but you grab his chin and tilt his gaze toward you, taking in his new piercings with a creased brow.

you tell him that you saw touya’s instagram post and needed to know for sure if he got it done. shiggy grumbles and tells you to go away but you grab his wrist and tug him to a nearby bench. plopping down on it, you ask if he’s okay, and he mutters that he’s fine. avoiding your gaze, he asks if you like them, if you like him.

“you like these, right? cause… i-i got them f’you. cause i like you… or whatever.” you give him the biggest cuddle and reassure him that you love them and that you really like him.

you two spend valentine's day at shiggy’s apartment playing video games. you gently kiss his face after he smashes through so many levels, careful to avoid his fresh piercing.

kirishima eijiro

⭑.ᐟ he's liked you for a few months now; he’s enraptured with your presence and personality, your beauty, your everything.

eiji buys you a gorgeous bouquet of your favourite flowers and surprises you with them at your place. he tells you straight out that he likes you and that he wants you to be his valentine.

“i’ve liked you for a while now and i want you to be my valentine. maybe even my girlfriend if you’ll consider it," he says, gazing at you intensely. you tell him that you’ll start with being his valentine and kiss him on the cheek, taking the bouquet from his arms.you’re blushing hard as you ask him how he knew what your favourite flowers were (he asked your friends).

on valentines day, he’s got a boxing match. he gets you a front-row seat, and you cheer so loud for him the entire time he fights. emerging victorious, you stand up and clap, causing the people around you to do the same.

you meet him out the back and pepper his face with sweet kisses before catching his lips in a tender one. you two go out for dinner that night (his treat ofc).

over ice cream, you talk about your greatest fears and biggest ambitions.

he drops you back at your place that night and kisses you goodbye, promising you that he’ll become a man who’s worthy of dating you.

midoriya izuku

⭑.ᐟ he's probably pining for you since middle school or something. he writes you a four-page love letter detailing his love and admiration for you.

izu slips it in your bag during a study session a week before valentine's day. he gets really nervous the next day when you see each other but is immediately disheartened when you don’t say anything about it.

it’s only the day before valentines you find the letter (it slipped out of your bag as you were searching for a hair tie). you read it with tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat.

after calming down, you head to his place. opening the door, izuku is met with you clutching his now tear-stained love letter in your hands. you throw yourself in his awaiting arms and apologise profusely for not finding it sooner. he shushes you and reassures you that it’s okay.

“don’t be sorry. i should have just told you that i liked you. d-do you-um feel that way too, y/n?” you nod enthusiastically and kiss him with shaky lips, his freckled cheeks cupped in your wet hands

izu takes you on a picnic for valentines day near the river. over sandwiches and cheesecake, you laugh about how long you’ve both been crushing on each other.

tamaki amajiki

⭑.ᐟ he's been crushing on you for years. he tries three times in the lead-up to valentine's day to ask you to be his.

the first time, you find him sitting in a corner at the library. you whisper to a very quiet tama about the upcoming assignment for one of your courses. when you finish speaking, he opens his mouth to ask you to be his valentine but, the librarian shoots you two a dangerous look and tells everyone to be quiet.

the second time, you’re walking out of class with nejire yapping away when he catches sight of you. neijire knows how much he likes you and tells you that he needs to talk to you about something. you hum and go up to tama, asking him if everything is okay. he starts mumbling that he likes you when mirio shows up out of nowhere and pulls you two into his burly frame, asking if you’re excited about the game tonight.

the third time, you’re catching the train home together after choir practice. you sit next to each other, you yapping away and tama listening nervously (he can’t stop staring down as he picks at a loose thread on his pants). as the train draws nearer to your stop, he starts panicking.

he looks up with wide eyes and quietly confesses to you, "s-sorry y/n i-i l-like you. a lot. please be—consider— being m-my valentine.” he scrunches his eyes shut, afraid of your reaction. you press the softest kiss to his cheek and whisper in his ear that you’d love to be before getting up and waving goodbye.

on valentines day, you go to a food market and spend the day sampling all of the different foods (the grilled octopus is your favourite).

your date ends with you giving him a warm hug and telling him to text you when he gets home. after texting you, he collapses on his bed, overthinking everything that just happened.

iida tenya

⭑.ᐟ who is the top student in every single one of his courses, and who has no time for dating outside of his busy study, extracurriculars, and work schedule. but then he meets you during a tutorial, and boy is he smitten.

it’s the day before valentine’s when you two sit with each other in the library for your weekly study session. the librarian kicks you out at 9pm and tenya walks you to the train station.

you’re about to head off to your platform when he catches your hand. it’s silent except for the distant whirring of cars and the trembling of train tracks. no one else is around to witness how gently he holds your hand, his finger intertwining with yours. you ask him what’s wrong but he shakes his head.

he clears his throat and pushes up his glasses before asking you, “would you like to be my valentine?” you chuckle and nod, drawing closer to him and grabbing his other hand. you kiss his jaw tenderly and skip off to your platform before you miss your train.

on valentines day, tenya takes you to the ballet. by the end, you’re in tears, clutching his hand. you’re one of the last to leave the theatre, tenya wiping your eyes and rubbing your back.

that night, he promises you he’ll make time for you in his busy schedule and gives you a big cuddle before parting ways.

todoroki touya

⭑.ᐟ he's actually been obsessed with you since you were kids and plotting to make you his since the moment you accidentally threw a building block at his head on the first day of kindergarten (he still has a little scar near his hairline from your attack).

this is finally the year that he’s gonna do it (he tells himself).

as part of his therapy, he does recreational candle-making. he knows how much you love candles since you’re always adding a new one to your collection, texting him pictures of them and claiming that this one is “different”.

he chuckles as he pours different oils into the boiling wax, thinking about how he’ll give you something you’ve never seen before.

a few days before valentine’s, he’s got your candle all wrapped and tied with a pretty bow (fuyumi’s work). he's standing near the garden on your route to your favourite coffee shop (he knows that you'll be getting hungry around now). as soon as he sees you, he's suddenly the same five-year-old boy who’s giddy from the blood rushing to his head and the apologetic mumbles from your mouth as you sobbed.

you notice him and wave as you walk over to him. you're grinning as asking him how he is. he tries to act cool (as per usual), but his heart rate is off the charts. he’s breaking out into a sweat, about to start panting from his nervousness.

those icy blue eyes widen as you press the back of your hand to his forehead, claiming he has a fever. he shakes his head; a moment of clarity.

he thrusts the candle into your hands as he blurts out, “willyoubemyvalentine?” you accept and throw your arms around him, reassuring him that you’d like nothing more.

that night, you blow up his phone with how much you love your new candle.

on valentine’s day, you two make it your mission to try every flavour of slurpee from your local seven eleven. with belly aches and rainbow tongues, you two lie on your couch and confess your long-held feelings for one another.

sero hanta

⭑.ᐟ he’s been crushing on you for a few months now.

at eijiro’s house party, he gets dared by the bakusquad to ask you out for valentine’s day. with shaky hands and an even shakier resolve, he comes over to you and asks if he can take you outside.

the cool breeze provides the reprieve you two need from the heap of sweaty bodies, scent of alcohol, and endless making out inside. you ask him if everything’s okay, but he shakes his head.

stuffing his hands in his pockets and avoiding your gaze, he mumbles, “y/n, I really like you, okay? do you wanna be my valentine?” you playfully shove his shoulder, telling him that, obviously, you do.

you two spend the rest of the night sitting in hammocks and drunkenly chatting over your feelings and the latest gossip at uni

on valentine’s day, hanta teaches you how to skateboard at your local skate park. it’s embarrassing wearing all of these pads to protect your joints, but oh-so-necessary with the number of times you fall over. he holds your hands and laughs at you when you rock side-to-side, but he always encourages you to keep going.

afterwards, you two grab some ice cream and sit at the back of the parlour. like all cute couples, you feed each other your different flavours and hold hands as you walk home.

you ask a red-faced hanta if he wants to be your boyfriend, and he says yes.

spider monkey

hanta sero x fem!reader⋆｡°✩— college!au (still have quirks), hanta wants to recreate the iconic spiderman kiss with you, fluff, 1.6k words

a/n: for you @bloomstream

With a jangle of your keys, the door to your shared apartment opens. It’s a day like any other. You finished all your classes around 3pm and headed to the library to watch a few missed lectures. Before returning home, you grabbed some takeout from your boyfriend’s favourite noodle place.

And as you step inside, the salty-sweet scent of tender beef stir-fried noodles and miso soup diffusing in the air, you gasp at the utter pigsty before you. Books and couch cushions are scattered about the floor, the coffee table has been propped up against a wall, and there are metres of tape hanging from the ceiling fan.

You mutter in shock, “Oh my god.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see a swathe of black hair and pale skin darting about. With a thud, Hanta lands in front of you in a low crouch.

Rising to his full height, he takes the takeout from your hands and exclaims, “Thanks, babe! Did you get-oh fuck yea!” He leans down and chastely kisses your cheek before heading into the kitchen. Your wide eyes are glued to how perfectly he avoids every obstacle on the floor as he digs through the bag.

You point around your living dishevelled room while stuttering, “U-uh, Hanta, honey. W-what’s going on?” He chuckles warmly as he drops the takeout on the bench and fetches some bowls and cutlery.

He shrugs, “Just testing out my skills, spider monkey.” You take tentative steps toward the kitchen, trying your best to dodge the mess. You’re almost there when you nearly trip on a particularly large cushion. You catch yourself at the last second before you can fall flat on your face (with your heavy-ass fugly backpack on too).

With lightning reflexes, your boyfriend is already next to you, prepared to catch you should you wobble. He steadies you by your forearms, his thin brows furrowed and his full lips slightly pouty.

Hanta asks worriedly, “Are you okay, babe?” You nod and hum reassuringly as you let him guide you to the kitchen unscathed. He squeezes your arm gently before letting go and returning to dishing out your dinner. You lean on the bench with your chest resting on your elbows as you ask him about his day.

Same old, same old. He remarks, “I was actually re-watching Spider-Man.”

You laugh, “Oh yea? How many times is that now? Like 50?” He pushes two bowls toward you, one with your favourite noodles and the other with your soup, and gestures for you to sit down.

The tongs clank beside the sink as he says defensively, “Yea, yea, well… How many times have you rewatched Twilight?” Your mouth falls open, and your hand stills, sauce-slick noodles slipping from your chopsticks.

“Hey!” You call out as he grins cockily and plops down beside you.

“Just saying it like how it is, MJ,” he taunts, his smirk widening as he slurps on miso.

You groan as you pick at your noodles like they have personally offended you, “Will you stop calling me that? My name isn’t MJ.” With a comical gulp, he stares at you for a moment, seeming to assess you in great detail.

Hanta’s slender fingers tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingertips ghosting your jaw. He finally cups your chin and turns your face toward him, tired eyes roving over your features.

All the cheekiness is gone from his expression as he says seriously, “Is that a new pimple?” You push his hand off as he guffaws.

You groan, “Just shut up and eat your noodles, will you?” His palm slams on the table as he doubles over from laughter, earning an eye roll from you.

You stuff your mouth full of yummy goodness, ignoring his heart-warming chuckles, especially how they melt you from the inside out and take off the edge from a long day at college.

He breathes out, “I-it hurts.”

After swallowing, you lick your lips and frown, “Damn right it should.” You reach for a napkin, but your boyfriend beats you to it. He cups your cheek with one hand and pats your oily lips with the serviette in his other. In return, you thumb his under-eyes, catching all of his stray tears.

He pouts as you draw back, “I’m sorry, babe. I couldn’t resist.” You shake your head.

“I know.” Hanta places the dirty napkin on the bench and releases you, resigned to watch in contentment as you continue eating. After a minute, you gaze at him and see his lazy smile and fond eyes, his cheek squished by the palm he’s resting it on.

With a mouth half full, you say, “What?” He chuckles softly as he shakes his head and turns back to his meal.

He mutters, “Nothing.”

Gulping down your food, you whisper-yell, “Is my pimple really that bad?”

He groans, “No, spider-monkey. I was just admiring my super hot girlfriend, jeez.”

Dabbing your mouth dry, you giggle, “Oh, well then, why didn’t you say so?” He sighs before munching on his noodles. As per usual, he finishes before you and starts cleaning up.

While Hanta’s putting the leftovers in the fridge, he reassures you, “Don’t worry, babe. I’m gonna fix the living room. Right after we kiss.” You nearly choked on your soup.

Coughing a little, you stutter, “W-what?”

He spins around and grins at you confidently, “I saw it today. You know, the iconic kiss scene? I was thinking that we could recreate it.” He stalks over to you and leans against the bench, his arms crossed as he continues, “I mean, I am kinda like Spider-Man, and you’re my MJ.” You roll your eyes and finish off your soup.

You thank your boyfriend while handing him your bowl, and he starts washing the dishes. You take up your rightful place by his side, drying and putting the dishes away once they’ve been cleaned. The rubbery snaps of the gloves cut through the quiet apartment as he yanks them off. He then wraps a strong arm around your shoulders and carefully leads you back to the living room.

Stopping in the middle, he raises his hands, palms facing you as he instructs, “Just stay there, okay?”

You whine, “But Hantaaaa, I’m gonna taste like noodles!” He drops his hands, head cocking to the side as gives you the “Are you being serious right now?” look. You nod and scamper off to the bathroom. You swish around mouthwash and spit it out before running back to him.

You chime whilst your heart pounds in your chest, “Okay, your turn!” He groans like this is the worst possible thing that’s ever happened to him and drags his feet to the bathroom, muttering to himself about how you two kiss all the time with morning breath or after dessert.

When he comes back, there’s a spring in his step. He stops in the hallway and calls out to you to stay right where you are. You nod and obey, slapping your palms on your sides as you wait for him to do his thing.

In the blink of an eye, tape shoots past you as he flies in front of you. You watch in awe as he rapidly jumps around the room, his tape sticking to various objects like the half-emptied bookshelves and couch until he wraps it around the tape-saturated ceiling fan.

You squeal as he covers it in impossibly more tape, “Hanta! You’re gonna break it, oh my god!” Your boyfriend has that cheeky smirk plastered across his face as he lowers himself down to you from the fan, hanging upside down. Your jaw is slack as he dangles right in front of you, his lips perfectly aligned with yours.

He says cockily, “You have a knack for getting in trouble.”

You groan, “Ugghhh Hanta.” You’re tempted to shove him just to see him swing from the ceiling, but you think better of it as you hear your fan creak.

He chuckles, “Fine fine, c’mere, MJ, n’ gimme a kiss.”

Sighing, you grab the sides of his face and tenderly kiss him. His lips are so warm and soft against yours, making you smirk. You knew that chapstick you bought for him last week was so worth it. He grips your hips and tugs you closer to him, making you yelp into his mouth. He swallows the sound whole as you tilt your head, the wet sounds of your kisses filling the air.

Once the ceiling fan groans like it’s on its last straw, you pull back and gaze up at it with wide eyes before looking at your boyfriend.

“Hanta!” You shriek.

He laughs breathily, “I know, I know. ‘M getting down now.”

You two spend the rest of the night cleaning up your living room. Hanta insisted that you sit down and relax, and you tried to really, took a shower, did a face mask and everything. But your poor pookie desperately needed help with ordering his comics by universe and release date. And the entire time, he was yapping off your ear about how cool he is.

Despite your attempts to humble him, you can’t help the smile permanently tattooed across your lips every time you think about your kiss, and more importantly, your very cool boyfriend.

their omega

જ⁀➴ chapter six: turmoil

alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — angst, hurt/comfort, hanta marks you, deku appearance, smau + fic, 4.4k words

m.list

a/n: '🌽⭐️s' gc from denki's pov + texts to hanta from your pov + sorry for how choppy the different texts are, i wrote them at the same time

fic underneath smau

When you return to the house, pharmacy paper bag in hand with Hanta’s rut suppressants, you see that the front door is ajar. You push it open and gently close it behind you. After removing your shoes, you head to the entrance hall.

Your eyes are peeled for your alpha. His scent is overpowering. It fills your lungs with every inhale you take. You’re unable to tell where it’s coming from, where he might be. You call out his name and soon, you hear footsteps thudding on the wooden floors, drawing closer to you. You turn around.

Hanta skids to a halt. He’s panting and sweat is dripping down his brow. You notice that he’s in a loose pair of sweatpants, no shirt. You avert your eyes from his sweat-drenched muscles and hand him the pharmacy bag.

He snatches it from your grasp with a breathless “Thank you”. You watch as he tears the bag open and fumbles with the annoying white lid on the orange jar. Taking it off, he brings the jar to his lips and tilts his head back, pouring a few of the pearly pills into his mouth.

Instinctively, you reach out to him but stop short. You say, “Hanta, be careful! You could overdose.” He dry swallows the pills before roughly screwing the lid back on the bottle. He sighs and shuts his eyes, squeezing them tight. You take the bottle from him, your fingertips brushing his ever so slightly, which sends shivers up your spine.

You walk around him, towards his room as you say, “I’ll just put these in your draw, okay?” He follows you like a lost puppy and keeps a short distance between you.

Once you enter his room, his scent overwhelms you. You stop at the door, frozen on the spot. A whine escapes your throat. You look behind you to see Hanta standing close to you, his bare chest almost brushing your back. You gaze into his dark eyes, a pout on your lips.

He grunts, “I know.” He grabs the bottle from your hand and moves around you, heading into his room. You linger by the door, observing him. The sunlight filters through the window and catches on the rippling contours on his back.

The mere sight of him like this, the way his scent surrounds you, and even his voice threaten to do something to you. The omega in you makes you whine again as you see his muscles flex while opening the draw.

You shift uncomfortably under his stare as he comes back over to you. As soon as you’re within reach, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into him. The force of his pull makes you gasp as you collide with his chest. Your hands press against his damp pecs as he holds you tight, face buried in the crook of your neck. You whine in his ear, making him growl. The chesty vibration turns your legs to jello, making you wrap your arms around his toned torso as you struggle to hold yourself up.

“Just stay with me, yea?” He murmurs into your ear. You nod as your hand finds the back of his neck and rubs the sweaty skin there.

For the next little while, Hanta holds you. He prays earnestly that soon, the rut suppressants will take effect. It requires every last bit of his strength to just hold you and not do anything more. Unfortunately, he can’t stop thinking of all the other things he would rather be doing with you right now. His self-control is teetering on the edge, about to snap any moment. He’s silently begging you to stay quiet as even a gasp from you could send him into oblivion.

He squeezes you even tighter, causing you to yelp into his ear. He groans, hands sliding down from your back to harshly grip your hips. He growls into your neck, “You should go.”

You shake your head and whisper into his ear, “I can’t leave you like this.”

He chuckles harshly as he says, “If you know what’s for your own good, you will.” You shake your head again and press your body closer to his, drawing out a low groan from his throat.

You know you’re playing with fire. Choosing to stay with him when you should be running might result in you getting hurt. But what you said was true. For some reason, you can’t leave him. You feel compelled to remain by his side.

You draw in a sharp breath as you feel his lips press against your neck; a soft kiss. You mewl out his name as one kiss turns to a shower of them raining down the length of your neck. At the feeling of his lips brushing your scent gland, you moan and tilt your head back. He kisses the sensitive skin, causing emotions — foreign — to course through your veins. You yelp out his name as his hot tongue darts out across your warm flesh. The cool air running over the spot sends shivers tingling down your spine.

He continues to lap at your scent gland like a depraved man. He takes a little nip at the tender skin, causing your head to snap back. Your nose-tip is against his hair and hot breath ghosts his moist forehead. You whine out his name as your hands squeeze his shoulders.

He keeps one arm wrapped tight around your hips, steadying you, as his other hand trails up your body. Over your stomach, between your breasts, and finally, it snakes up your neck. His grasp is gentle, with no pressure on your neck.

He tips your head back and keeps his hand there as he nips at your scent gland again. You moan at the sensation as both of your hands intertwine in his black locks. You hear him curse into your skin, his lips pressed flush against the spot. Momentarily, he remains still as he contemplates.

At this point, you’re panting. Your chest heaves up and down, and you can feel the erratic pace of your heartbeat. You lick your dry lips and close your eyes, doing your best to calm down in these few moments of reprieve.

You can tell it’s over when you feel Hanta’s fingertips press into the side of your neck. His hand manoeuvers your head even further back while his tongue drags across your skin from your collarbone to your jaw. The cool wetness left behind makes you moan.

And then, you scream out.

Hanta’s teeth sink deep into your scent gland. Red pools around the wound, a line forming around where his lips meet your skin. He sucks as he bites, tongue swirling and tasting that metallic taste of your blood.

Your hands are back on his shoulders, trying feebly to push him off you, only for him to tighten his grasp on you. The pressure of his hand on your neck increases and all you can feel is pain. Tears well in your eyes and fall onto your cheeks as you yelp and cry.

Suddenly, pleasure unlike any other floods your senses and transforms you into a moaning mess. You are floating. No longer grounded to this plane of existence, you drift along waves of peace and ecstasy. You can’t hear yourself anymore. You are high above it all. Fairy floss clouds tickle your toes as the sun’s heat permeates your untethered body.

Hanta pulls away, ripping you out of unexplored spaces in your mind. Your blood coats his tongue, staining it red as it stains his lips and dribbles down his neck. Your mind is foggy and your eyes are unfocused.

You can’t hear Hanta calling out to you, and you barely notice what’s happening around you as he carries you to his bed. He sets you down and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He then leans over you and calls your name again, hoping you’ll give him some sign of consciousness.

You shake your head to the side as your eyes close. As the fuzziness dwindles, you’re left with pain radiating from your scent gland. You groan as your brow creases. Hanta’s hand envelops your shoulders and gives you a little shake.

With your eyes still closed, you grumble, “What?” You hear him curse before you feel the press of his body against yours.

His lips brush your ear as he whispers, “You scared the fucking shit out of me, do you know that?” You nod weakly, and he continues, “I’m sorry, baby. I don’t know what came over me. You alright?” You hum in response as your hands gently rub his upper back.

You murmur, “Lay with me.” He hums in response and shifts to lay beside you. He wraps his arms around you, drawing you into his chest. Your head rests in the crook of his neck. You breathe his scent in and out, sighing in relaxation. His fingers push your hair back to leave your fresh mark untouched.

You two snuggle into each other, his warmth and soft murmurs sending you into a deep sleep.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

You wake up to the sound of yelling. The angry shouts blare in your ears as you groan. You turn over as your eyes scrunch and then open. You notice that it’s dark out and you’re alone. You get up and leave Hanta’s room, following the loud noises to the living room.

You stop short, just lingering behind the ajar screen door. Peering inside, you notice Katsuki jabbing his finger into Hanta’s chest while Eijiro and Denki watch from the couch.

“DID YOU FUCKING THINK, TAPEFACE?! WHAT’RE WE GONNA DO KNOW, EH?” Katsuki shouts. Tch. The angry blond steps back as he glares daggers into Hanta. As much as you want to watch from your comfy spot, you know that they’ll realise you’re there soon. You push the door open and all eyes flicker to you. You close the door behind you and meet their gazes with a gulp.

Katsuki makes a beeline to you. He grabs your forearm and pulls you into his chest. As you crash into him, his hand is already on your jaw and he pushes your head back and to the side. His grip is firm but not painful. You can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves. Hearing his little grunt, you whine.

You don’t see it, but Eijiro comes up behind Katsuki to observe your mark. And soon, all of the boys are crowding around you. You whine again, this time louder. You don’t enjoy them staring, examining you like a rare artefact.

You mumble, “Is it bad?”

Katsuki grunts out, “No.” He lets go of your jaw and grabs your wrist.

He drags you out of the living room saying, “Have a look yourself.” He forces you into the bathroom and flicks the light on, making you squint. His hands grasp your shoulders as he positions you in front of the mirror.

You take in your dishevelled appearance from having just woken up. And then you notice the wound on your scent gland. For a better view, you lean forward and tilt your head to the side. Instinctively, your hands come up to touch it but you’re stopped by Katsuki grabbing your wrists in one of his hands.

You glance at him briefly before looking back at your reflection. There’s dry blood covering and dripping from the mark. Despite being bitten a few hours ago, it’s already scabbed.

You can see Katsuki’s crimson eyes burning into you. You gaze at him in the mirror, taking in his familiar frown.

You say quietly, “I need to wash it.” He drops your wrists and grabs a nearby towel. You shift back as he wets a patch with warm water. He then grumbles at you to stay still as he gently wipes the blood away.

You notice your other alphas lingering by the door, whispering to each other. Eijiro gives you a thumbs-up when he catches your gaze. You nod slightly and watch as he shifts back behind the screen and whispers something.

Katsuki pulls away and starts rinsing the towel in the sink. You look back at yourself in the mirror, seeing how the scabs pull taut and relax with your movements.

“Thanks, Katsuki,” you say. You place a hand on his bicep. It’s like your touch sends a jolt of electricity through him the way he flinches.

“S’fine,” he mumbles. He wrings out the towel and throws it over his shoulder. You pout as he steps back, your hand falling from his scarred skin.

You look up at him with doe eyes, saying, “Are you mad, Suki?” Tch. He looks away from you toward the door. You motion with your hand to Denki, who’s hovering by the door, to come in. Tanned fingers wrap around the door frame and push it back as Denki shifts in, revealing Eijiro and Hanta.

Hanta mouths to you as he points at his neck, “You okay?” You nod.

“So,” you start.

All is quiet for a few moments until Katsuki grumbles, “Do you like it?” You make a confused noise.

“Like it? The mark?” You question.

“’Course the fucking mark,” Katsuki says harshly as he rolls his eyes. You fold your arms beneath your chest as you turn to him. But he avoids your gaze and chooses to death stare at the sinktop instead.

You pout and say, “Don’t be a dick to me. Yes, I like the mark. It’s fine?” You shift as you speak, looking at the other boys. Hanta sighs and comes up to you.

He rests back on the sink as he says to you sheepishly, “It’s really okay?”

You nod enthusiastically. “It’s fine. What’s the big deal?”

Maybe the post-mark seriousness hasn’t hit you yet. This is a big deal. You, like all other omegas, have dreamed of the day you would find an alpha you loved and become their mate. Whether that’s a good thing… You’ve always looked forward to it.

Even if you haven’t wanted the traditional domestic life of an omega in the past, you’ve wished for your mate every single day. And now that it’s happening, you are unbothered by Hanta being your mate.

Hanta stares at you with wide eyes as you shrug and continue, “I mean, it’s not like I have a choice, right? You kind of own me.”

A groan from beside you catches your attention. Katsuki grunts out, “Mating has nothing to do with ownership.” He stalks closer to you and comes chest-to-chest with you as he continues, “Denki might have paid for you but that doesn’t make you my mate.” You whimper at his words, the harshness taking you off guard.

Quickly, Eijiro squeezes between you two. He faces you and clarifies, “What Bakubro means is that you don’t have to mate with us just because of your circumstances.”

You shake your head with furrowed eyebrows. You say confused, “But isn’t that the whole point of buying an omega? To mate and breed them?” Tch.

Eijiro shoots Denki a look before gazing back at you and saying, “Did Denki not explain?”

“Explain what?” You say, looking between the two. Denki’s blush doesn’t go unnoticed.

Eijiro sighs before saying, “Okay. Don’t be mad but Denki purchased you by accident.” Your mouth falls open from the sheer shock those words instil into you.

Denki chimes in, “I was drunk! That’s why Tsukauchi was here. I’m doing undercover work in Shibuya and I was at an omega auction and I got drunk and I bought you and that’s illegal obviously and—”

“So then what?” You cut him off. “You just… went along with it? All of you?” You stare at them in turn before walking up to Denki.

Your jaw is tense and glare killer as you yell at him, “So you lied to me? You didn’t feel any kind of sympathy for me?! You could have just told me the truth from the start! Taken me to the station or whatever. I could be home right now!” You can feel the tears well in your eyes as your voice quietens and becomes shaky.

“But I can’t now. I-I can’t. I’m s-tuck with-with all of you. I—” You choke back a sob. In that moment, Denki’s heart shatters in two as he stares into your eyes and sees you fall apart. He goes to wrap his arms around you but you shake your head and tell him no.

“Please,” he coos softly. You shake your head and dash out of the bathroom. You hear them call out for you but you don’t care. You rush to the front door, yank it open, and dart out, not bothering to take anything with you (not even your phone gasp). You slip out the gate and sprint down the street.

At this moment, you could care less where you go or what happens to you, you just have to get away. You run for what feels like forever (which in reality, is like five minutes).

By the time you stop, you’re doubled over, huffing and puffing heavily. The moment of cardiovascular rest has tears welling up in your eyes. You choke on your sobs as they overwhelm you. You’re lost in a foreign country, shocked and sad and winded. You swerve down the footpath, crying and looking for a place to pour out your heart.

Luckily, you spot a park up ahead. You stalk over to it and plant yourself down on an isolated bench. You rest your elbows on your knees, face in your hands, as you sit there and sob. Your pain is unlike any other. The pain of losing something you didn’t know you lost. That you haven’t really lost. A passing opportunity. A different decision. If only the truth had come to light sooner…

You cried over the ‘what ifs’. But the damage has been dealt. You’re bonded to that alpha now, to all of them sooner or later.

You had resigned yourself to enjoy this new life of yours, forced into complacency by the lie of ‘this is what you were bought for, this is what was expected of you’. To find out that a bunch of jerks were just fucking around and finding out was soul-crushing. Your purchase was a mistake.

So, you asked yourself, was all of this, therefore, a mistake?

Up until now, it all seemed genuine. All of the moments you spent together, the level of care the boys showed you, all of it had felt sincere. You refused to believe that it wasn’t. But Katsuki was right, mateship is different.

Being their mate is different to being owned by them. To be their mate is much more intimate. Is that something you want? You don’t know.

You continue to cry all alone, under the park lights as you contemplate everything you’ve learnt and everything that’s passed. It’s when the moon rises higher in the sky and the night air begins nipping at your skin that you become painfully aware of how much you don’t want to stay out tonight. But how can you return?

In another outburst of tears (this is the nth tonight), you don’t notice a tall, well-built man walking up to you.

“Um, Miss.” You look up and lock eyes with a green pair. They stare at you with concern. You sniffle and blink away your tears, hand wiping your nose and eyes.

He clears his throat and asks, “Is everything alright?” You nod frantically, noticing his green jumpsuit and refreshing scent.

He gazes at you with a small smile, saying, “Everything doesn’t look alright. Can I?” He points to the spot beside you on the bench. You hum in response, the sound weighed down by your sorrow. You take a deep breath in as he sits down next to you, desperately trying to calm yourself.

“Sorry for prying, Miss…”

“L/n,” you say, staring at him. He repeats your last name, feeling the foreign word in his mouth.

He continues, “It’s just, uh…” He smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck, looking away for a moment before gazing back at you. You sniffle, waiting for him to keep speaking.

“You uh, smell like some heroes I know. And you’re marked. Is everything okay?” He asks. His tone is gentle and his voice fairly quiet — he’s afraid of making you cry again.

You shake your head before really looking at him. Curly green hair, vibrant green eyes, sweet freckles peppering his nose and cheeks, and pale. You feel a sense of deja vu.

Your voice is thick as you say, “D-do I k-know you? Wha-what’s your n-name?” He smiles softly and you get a brief glimpse at those pristine whites.

“My name is Midoriya, but you might know me by my hero name ‘Deku’.”

Deku…

“Oh!” You say. You point at him as you explain, “I know you. You-You’re on the r-rut calendar.” He laughs and it soothes your nerves.

“I am?” He asks with a raised brow. You nod, sniffling.

“Y-yea,” you mutter. “K-Katsuki talks about you-you sometimes.”

“Ah,” Midoriya says knowingly. He grins at you as he continues, “I’ve heard about you too. You’re his omega, right?”

You look away from him and swallow back a fresh set of tears. “Some-thing l-like that,” you whisper. Midoriya watches as you sniffle and try so hard to hold it all in. He knows it’s not his place to get involved, but he can’t help but feel curious about you, and sorry that you are so upset.

“Something happen between you too?” Broccoli boy asks. You shake your head, attempting to shake away the sadness that question sparks in you. He says carefully like he’s treading on eggshells, “Kacchan’s my friend. If he’s bothering you, then maybe I can help offer some perspective or advice.”

You whimper as you choke on your sob. You tilt your head downward as your tears flow uncontrollably. You cry for a little before coughing it up. You tell Midoriya everything and I mean EVERYTHING. From what happened to you during your kidnapping — that you haven’t told anyone — to when you were sold to Denki and everything that has occurred since. You didn’t intend to divulge so much of your personal life to him, but as soon as you started, you couldn’t stop.

You sniffle as you say, “S-sorry. I’m r-really so-sorry for talk-talking t-too mu-ch. I-I just need-need a f-friend.” Midoriya rubs gentle circles on your back as you sob, hunched over your knees.

He hums and says, “It’s okay, so don’t apologise. I’m sorry that all of this has happened to you. It’s okay to let it out. I’m here. And being Kacchan’s omega automatically makes you my friend, okay?” You laugh sadly as you cry even harder.

You two stay like that until you have no tears left. By now, the crisp night air has you chilled to the bone. You’re shivering as you calm down, your lips pressed together hard to stop your teeth from chattering. Midoriya notices the goosebumps cascading across your skin and your trembling.

He suggests, “Why don’t you come back to my place tonight?” You look at him with glassy eyes, and it takes everything within him to refrain from ‘awwing’ at how cute you look with that red-tipped nose.

“Rea-lly?” You say sombre.

He nods and says, “Yea. I’ll text Kacchan and let him know you’re with me once we get back.” You hum in response and let him help you stand up. He keeps a warm, muscular shoulder wrapped around your shoulders as he leads you out of the park and down the street. The lamplights illuminate the softness of his features as he gazes down at you every so often.

You’re not dumb. You know about stranger danger. But you’ve seen this man on a calendar and heard your alphas speak of him occasionally (mainly Katsuki, of course). You know that you can trust him to keep you safe. That’s his job, right?

Soon, you two reach his car and he drives you to his apartment complex. He guides you inside and up to his apartment. After fumbling with his keys, he unlocks the door and leads you inside. It’s cosy, you think. But his scent is so strong. You had an inkling he was an alpha from his pro-hero status, but coming into his home, you knew it for sure.

He chuckles nervously from behind you, “Sorry for the mess.” You shake your head and reassure him that it’s fine. You walk around the living room, admiring his furniture and the bookshelves before plopping down on the couch. He asks you if you’ve eaten and you tell him you haven’t.

Once he’s changed out of his hero costume into something more comfortable, he starts making dinner for both of you. You ask him if you can help, but he shakes his head at you and reassures you that he’ll take care of things. He makes you omurice, a dish you’ve never had before.

You smile happily as you take a bite, giggling and telling him how good it tastes. Your compliments cause pink to dust the apples of his cheeks. The sight makes you giggle even more and you tease him for how easy it is to make him blush. He laughs with you and lets you tease him; he likes seeing you smile.

That night, you sleep in his room while he sleeps on the couch. As you stare up at the ceiling, you can’t help but feel the stares of the bajillion All Mights surrounding you. They peer at you intensely, that grin stretched wide across his face.

Spending time with Midoriya was a breath of fresh air amid your emotional turmoil. You feel lighter and freer after speaking with him. To be away from the boys for a short while feels so good.

This small taste of separation is sparking ideas in you. Ideas about putting yourself out there. Sure, your daily walks are a nice break, but maybe you could start doing the grocery shopping or going to workout classes. You could even make some friends.

The boys just want you to be happy, you know that much. You don’t think they would be against the idea of you getting out there, as long as it’s safe.

Lots of things have been on your mind tonight. Lots of emotions were felt. You sigh and close your eyes, somehow falling into a deep sleep.

taglist - @qyuin @nervoussangel @xxdiaqiaoxx @misscaller06 @kksmush @cielito--lindo @kennygou @tnywabbit @ita606

this was so beautiful🥹 give him here num num

Hello hello! I love ALL of your MHA stuff! Your fics and hcs for a certain teacher are just on POINT 😩🤌🏻

I have a teeny request.... Domestic fluff for Zawa when?

Ty ty!! I'm not quite sure if this qualifies, but it's so soft. I wanted an excuse to have Aizawa say "ily" a bunch of times and also sort of play into that Jenny Slate quote, "Who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me?"

aizawa knows he loves you the minute he comes home to you making dinner in his clothes.

it's a mixture of things: the possessive churn in his gut at seeing his shirt barely skim past your ass, the gentle hum of your voice singing alongside the radio—the realization settles over him so easy it's like drawing breath.

you let out a surprised gust of air when his arms tug you against his chest.

"shouta!" you laugh, and it's unbearable almost, how heavenly he finds this moment to be. he absorbs your smile with a kiss. "what's gotten into you?"

he's not the most affectionate man. he tries to show his love for you through his actions, but aizawa wonders now if distrusting his ability to put his feelings into words is more cowardice than strategy.

to love you is to potentially lose you. he's known that from the beginning. the possibility exists that one day you might not be here in his arms, wearing his Present Mic shirt that you tease him mercilessly over and looking at him like he's capable of offering you the moon rather than the actual exhausted life of a pro-hero.

"i love you," he blurts out, and your eyes soften with such overwhelming affection he suddenly can't stop saying it. "i love you," he repeats against your neck, tracing his thumb over the red mark he sucked into the skin that morning. "i love you," a hoarse rasp as he reclaims your lips.

he has to accept what he can't control, and the loss of you is one. he can only control something as simple and beautiful as this, peppering his love onto your blushing cheeks as you put on the tea.