Imagine Ex-boyfriend Katsuki Who Is Desperate To Show You How Much He’s Changed. Who Is Sitting In

their omega

જ⁀➴ chapter two: touching grass

alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — angst, hurt/comfort, smau + fic, katsuki's kinda mean, 2.1k words

m.list

a/n: '🌽⭐️s' gc from denki's pov

fic underneath smau

It’s been a week since you were sold to your alphas. It had been absolutely shocking to find out that you had been bought to share between FOUR alphas. Not one, not two, but FOUR?!

You had stayed in the bathroom until nightfall, crying and washing your face and then crying again. When you came out, the two alphas you met earlier told you their names and those of your other alphas. You learnt that Eijiro was the tall, sharp redhead and Denki was the sheepish blond. You met Hanta that night when he came back from patrol. He, like the rest, seemed okay. Not too pushy or aggressive like most alphas. Or was that all an act?

Eijiro told you that you could have his room and that he would be moving things out over the next couple of weeks. The next morning, you crept out of his room, wearing Denki’s ‘THUNDER BOLT’ t-shirt. You intended to go to the kitchen but failed miserably since you have no navigational skills. You ended up stumbling into an empty bedroom. There was a bed in the centre of the room and All Might posters on the walls. You saw a shelf of the grinning hero’s figurines and walked over to it. As you inspected all the little All Might’s, the door slid harshly open. Its hinges rattled loudly as a spiky blond stalked into the room.

He was in a black shirt that hugged his godly muscles and had a scowl on his face. He threw a duffel bag in the corner, making you jump and yelp. Hearing you, he stopped in his tracks and looked right at you. He growled at you and asked what you were doing in his room. You stuttered out that you were lost and he gave you directions to the kitchen. You nodded and ran out of the room, thoroughly unnerved and afraid of your final alpha, Katsuki.

Since then, you’ve avoided him like the plague. Most days, you spent curled up in Eijiro’s your room, trying to process everything that’s happened. The redhead would come in and out, saying ‘Hi’ and talking to you as he packed his things. You offered to help him on more than one occasion, but he always turned you down, saying that you shouldn’t have to lift a finger as his omega. His… chivalry made you smile but it also frightened you. Would he turn out to be one of those alphas who thought that omegas only existed for breeding? You hoped not.

Today, the sun was bright overhead. The chirps of birds and insects hum filter into your room from the open window. This morning, Eijiro told you that you would have the house to yourself today.

“And don’t stay in ‘ere all day, okay? Get out. Get some sun. It’ll make you feel better,” he said grinning. You nodded and wished him and everyone else a good day before he left.

Now, you are contemplating whether to take his advice. You know you can’t leave. You’re all alone in a foreign country except for the alphas that own you. Who can you run to? Where else can you go? And this isn’t so bad, you think. Not yet, anyway. You take a deep breath in and resolve to stop rotting in your bed. You get up and slide the door open. Leaving the room, you decide to walk around the house. You haven’t since your first morning when you encountered a certain someone.

You open almost every door you come across, very curious about your alpha’s house. You stumble into Denki’s room. You can tell it’s his because of that citrusy scent… and because of the lightning bolt iconography and animal prints. You don’t want to stay too long in case he can smell you when he gets back. But you can’t help yourself. You wander about the room carefully so you don’t trip on dirty clothes strewn about the floor. You notice a yellow electric guitar in the corner. It draws you in and you kneel beside it. Your fingertips lightly caress the strings.

Next, you find Hanta and Eijiro’s room (you assume by the opposing styles). Gaming set-up vs ‘manly’ motivational posters. It makes you giggle. And it makes your heart flutter. Eijiro has sacrificed his personal space so you could have some. Is that the action of someone out to hurt you? You’re not so sure.

You come across the home gym, laundry, store room… By the time you’re finished exploring, your tummy rumbles. But now, you can’t remember the way to the kitchen. You try walking back to Katsuki’s room which you peeked into but all of sudden, you can’t remember which one that is either. You huff in frustration and try your best to navigate the hallways. But to no avail. You swear you’ve seen that same vase of flowers now in the last three hallways. Or are they all the same hallway?

Sighing, you slide open the door closest to you. Your eyes are closed as you push it to the side. You hope it’s the kitchen. You open your eyes one at a time and find yourself in a large room. At the centre is a square wooden bath. Hesitantly, you walk up to it. Coming closer, you make out little jets lining the inside of the bath, and you realise that what you’re looking at isn’t a bath but a hot tub. The sight of it, sunlight streaming in from the windows illuminating the clear water fills you up with warmth. Part of you wants to jump in while the other part knows better. Maybe later, you think.

You’re uncertain how to turn the hot tub on anyway so you decide to ask Eijiro about it when he gets back. You then leave the room. Shutting the door behind you softly, you trudge down down the hall with slumped shoulders. You eventually find the kitchen and cut up some fruit for lunch, filling a bowl with berries, mango, and figs.

Smiling, you take it with you as you open the glass back door. You step out and take a deep breath of fresh air. You leave your house slippers on the short porch and wander around the untidy garden barefoot. After finding a large rock to sit on — moss climbing the sides of it — you munch on your fruit and take in the cacophony of insect calls, the faint whirring of cars, and the birdsong. You watch a ladybug crawl up a blade of grass and the pigeons flap overhead. It puts you at ease. Something you haven’t felt in a long time.

Maybe life isn’t so bad, you think. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. A gift. Of a domestic life. But is that what you want? To just stay home all of the time, take care of the kids, and do all of the cooking and cleaning?

You’ve always wanted to pursue a career despite being an omega. You didn’t want to be tied down by your secondary gender. No, you wanted a rich and fulfilling life. To work and to be proud of your independence. But after graduating and facing the harsh reality that is the workforce for omegas in industries they “don’t belong in”, you couldn’t help but question your place in the world.

Secretly, you have relished in the thought of living an ‘omega’ life. But now that you’ve been thrust into your daydream, is it truly what you want? Have the aggressive alpha bosses and lack of omega inclusion in the workforce turned you off from it completely? Or, do you just need to “toughen up”? Is that something you’re capable of? Is that a denial of who you are? Could this new life you’ve been given somehow be a good thing?

Maybe you are getting ahead of yourself, you think. What does enjoying nature have to do with any of this? But you feel helpless. You’re bordering on the edge of a decision that’s practically been made for you. And you’re not as opposed to it as you were a week ago. Is this what locking yourself up in an alpha’s bedroom does to you?

Once you finish eating your fruit, you continue to walk around the garden. You duck below branches and step over shrubs, looking up, down, and around at anything and everything you can see. And you do so until the bright blue skies fade into apricot silk and violet.

You manage to find your way back to the house. As you slip on your house shoes, you hear clacking and thudding from inside. You gently push the door open and close it quietly behind you, sneaking back into the kitchen.

The sounds come from down the hallway. They’re loud and you can hear the muffle of your alphas speaking. You tiptoe on the wooden flooring, doing your best not to disturb them as you head to the bathroom — you’re eager to wash the dirt off your feet. You’re passing the screen door of the living room when it abruptly opens. An oh-so-tall and intimidating blond stares down at you harshly.

You laugh nervously as you stutter, “H-hey.”

He scowls at you, “Where were you?” He grabs your upper arm and drags you into the room, your other alphas watching with wide eyes. You cry out at the tightness of his grip as he thrusts you forward, and your back hits a solid wall of muscle. You’re whimpering as you turn around and see your favourite alpha (so far). You notice he’s not wearing a shirt, his rippled muscles on full display. The belt of his pants has a red ‘R’. Must be his hero attire, you think.

His large, tanned hand comes to your shoulder, and he rubs it gently. He says to you in a gentle voice, “Are you okay? We were so worried about you.” You shake your head and look back at Katsuki whose glaring daggers into you. You let out another whimper on instinct and your scent sours. It’s painfully obvious by the way you stay close to Eijiro’s exposed, warm body how afraid you are of the man across from you.

Eijiro raises a hand as he says, “You’re freaking her out, Bakubro. Lay off.”

Katsuki barks out, “Little brat deserves it after how much trouble she’s caused us.” Hanta places a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder which the angry blond immediately shrugs off.

“Bro, you need to calm down,” Hanta says. You look back up at Eijiro and take in the tightness of his jaw from this angle. You let out another whimper, upset and confused by this situation. Eijiro tilts his head down to glance at you.

He gently coos, “It’s okay. Katsuki is just a bit worked up right now because we couldn’t find you.” You shake your head.

You say quietly as you point to the side, “I was outside. Just like you told me.” Eijiro nods and gives the other alphas a look. You gaze down as you bite the side of your lip, chewing on the soft pink flesh in your discomfort. You notice just how dirty your feet are.

Eijiro clears his throat and says softly, “We were calling you, but you mustn’t have heard. Just don’t stay out so late next time, okay? Especially if one of us isn’t with you.” You look up at him and nod, silently praying for this conversation to be over so you can run off to the safety of your room.

The room remains silent for what feels like a century but in reality is a minute or two. During that time, you realise that Eijiro’s hand has slipped from your shoulder and his arm now curls around you protectively. You let out a little whine as you shift.

You almost whisper, “Can I go now?” Eijiro lets go of you as he nods. You scamper out of there and run down the hallway to the bathroom. You slide the door behind you with a sigh and quickly wash your soil-covered feet and hands. Once you wipe them dry, you peek your head out from the bathroom to see if the coast is clear. Certain it is, you power walk back to your bedroom.

Once you step inside, you run over to your bed and flop down, sighing. For the rest of the night, you ignore Eijiro’s knocks and coos to come have dinner. Instead, you let that painful feeling of hunger mix with the sadness lingering in your heart.

taglist - @qyuin @nervoussangel @xxdiaqiaoxx

as bakugou’s housewife, you’re always visiting his agency to bring him lunch or his colleagues some baked goods you made.

he grumbles when eijiro walks into his office holding your freshly-baked muffins and tells him how good they are.

“damn right, they are my wife made ‘em!” eijiro’s eyes widen before he chuckles, wiping away the crumbs from his lips with the back of his hand.

the redhead grins, “there’s more downstairs if you want some.” bakugou grunts out that he’s fine as he keeps his eyes on the report in front of him.

by the time his final meeting for the day is over, he’s in an awful mood. he trudges through the door, flinging his duffle bag near the shoe rack. you jump, your concentration interrupted by the loud noise. you turn around, hearing him stomping into the kitchen. your angry blond has his muscular arms folded across his chest and the deepest furrow in his brows.

“hi, suki!” you smile. he grumbles, lingering behind the island bench. you turn back around and stir the sauce for tonight’s spaghetti. the next few minutes are silent except for the bubbling of the tomato sauce and bakugou’s loud sighs and groans.

“how long are you gonna stand there huffing and puffing, mr big bad wolf?” you say cheekily.

your husband grunts, “don’t call me that.” he stalks up behind you, his calloused palms gripping your hips tightly.

you hum, “then spit it out. what’s got you in such a bad mood?” you squeal as he smacks your ass, flinching and immediately turning to face him. he’s so close his chest ghosts yours.

you stare up at him with wide eyes as you exclaim, “what was that for?!”

he smirks, all snarky, “you shouldn’t waste your time on those extras. you’re my wife.”

you gulp and sigh, “is that what this is about?” tch. “i was being nice, babe, because i’m your wife.” he rolls his eyes, his hands still on your hips. you shove him back with both hands on his pecs, taking the pro hero by surprise. he stumbles back slightly, glaring at you.

you turn the stove off and set the pot down on a silicone mat to let it cool. all the while, bakugou burns holes into you with his intense stare.

even though you’ve been together for a long time now, he still finds it hard to put his feelings into words and to say those words. the distance between you makes his heartache. he closes that gap, cuddling you from behind. you tell him to get off but he won’t budge.

the rest of the night is spent reassuring him that no, you’re not mad at him and yes, you love him more than anyone else (especially eijiro).

their omega

જ⁀➴ chapter three: shopping!

alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — fluff, hurt/comfort (the boys make it up to you), mentions of pornographic moans in jest, smau + fic, 2.3k words

m.list

a/n: '🌽⭐️s' gc from denki's pov

fic underneath smau

You wake up to knocking on your door. Groaning, you stretch and roll out of bed. You stumble over to the door while rubbing your eyes and yawning. You open it, revealing your favourite alpha. He grins down at you with those sharp whites. You blink and smile lazily up at him.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Eijiro says.

“Hey,” you mumble. You step back and open the door wider for him to come in. It still amazes you how he towers over you. You notice he’s in a red hoodie with a sleeveless jacket over the top and track pants. He looks so cosy, and he smells so good.

He hovers by the door and says, “How are you after last night?”

You shrug, “Fine.” Eijiro steps closer to you but you step back reflexively. You don’t want him close to you right now, even if he’s nothing but kind since you met. You wonder whether he would ever get angry at you the way Katsuki had.

Your step back doesn’t go unnoticed. Upon seeing it, Eijiro stops moving forward. It hurts him that his omega is still afraid of him. He clears his throat and says, “I’m really sorry about Bakugou’s behaviour yesterday. He was really worried about you-we all were. He’s just not very good at expressing how he feels.” You nod and look down at your feet.

“Are you hungry?” he asks. You gaze up and see the little crease between his short brows. You’re open your mouth to say ‘no’ when your tummy grumbles. Your eyes widen at the sound and you can feel the blood instantly rushing to your cheeks. Eijiro laughs and it’s the most precious sight. He laughs so whole-heartedly, it puts you at ease. You laugh a bit with him, your embarrassment evident in your flaming face.

He chuckles, “Come on. Why don’t we get you some food? And then after we can go shopping, how does that sound?” You calmed down as he spoke. Now, you tilt your head to the side.

“Shopping?” You question.

Eijiro nods and says, “Yea, the guys and I took today off so we could all spend some time together.” Seeing your pout, he quickly continues, “To shop. Because you don’t have anything.” You hum in response. You tell him you’ll meet him in the kitchen and he nods, shutting the door and giving you some space. You freshen yourself up in the bathroom before heading to the kitchen.

When you walk in, you see your alphas leaning over the kitchen table, whisper-shouting at each other. They look up at you with wide eyes upon seeing you. Denki immediately stands up and comes over to you.

“Y/n! We missed you at dinner last night!” He exclaims. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug. Your hands press against his surprisingly solid chest as he squeezes you tight.

You whine quietly, “I can’t breathe.” The chirpy blond pulls back and smiles at you with his hands firmly planted on your upper arms. He leans down and quickly kisses the side of your forehead. You can hear your heart thumping loudly at his sudden affection.

You almost whisper to him, “What’s all this for?”

He pouts, “We missed you! We don’t want our omega to still be upset, okay?” He wraps one arm around your shoulders and leads you over to the kitchen table. Hanta shifts over and pats the cushion next to him. You give him a small smile as you sit down next to him, and Denki sits next to you so you’re sandwiched between them. Opposite, Katsuki and Eijiro sit.

You look at them and see Eijiro smiling at you encouragingly while Katsuki frowns and avoids your gaze. He suddenly grunts and glares at the man across from him.

“The fuck was that for, tape face?!” He growls.

“Don’t be such a dick, Bakubro,” Hanta shrugs.

“No swearing at the table,” Eijiro scolds them as he places a plate and utensils in front of you. You thank him and look down at your plate. You then gaze at the mountain of pancakes in the centre of the table. It smells heavenly, triggering a low grumble from your stomach.

Denki giggles, “Did you hear that? It’s like a little lion is roaring.” You pout at him as he laughs.

“Don’t be so mean,” you mumble. He’s wiping tears from his eyes as he apologises.

You watch as Eijiro starts dishing out pancakes. He places two on your plate and goes back for a third.

You raise your hands, palms towards him as you say, “No no, that’s okay. I’m not that hungry anyway.” His red eyes go wide for a moment before he cracks a smile and places another pancake on your plate.

Hanta points to your plate as he says, “You don’t have to pretend.”

You laugh nervously and whisper an “Okay” before looking at the toppings on the table. You grab the maple syrup and shake it before opening the lid and watching the sweet syrupy goodness drizzle onto your pancakes.

You’re shocked out of your thoughts by a moan from beside you. You look at Denki who's chewing happily on his pancakes. He swallows and licks his lips before looking over at you.

He smirks, “They’re really good. You should hurry up and give them a try.” You grin at him and nod, closing the cap of the maple syrup. You continue adding toppings to your pancakes as Denki sighs and moans every so often.

He catches your eyes mid-sigh and says, “You know, Katsuki makes the best pancakes! He actually made these for you.” You glance over to Katsuki who is hunched over the table, devouring his pancakes. He doesn’t pay any attention to you (he’s actually focusing solely on you but he doesn’t want you to know). You nod at Denki’s words, seeing Katsuki’s standoffish behaviour.

You start cutting into your pancakes when once again, the peaceful morning atmosphere is interrupted by another one of Denki’s loud moans.

Hanta sighs, “Denki, bro. They’re not that good.”

The blond pouts and says, “Shut up, doofus. They are that good.”

Hanta chews as he says, “You sound like you’re in a porno.”

Your eyes widen as you take your first bite of your pancakes. You sigh in pleasure. The fluffiness melts on your tongue while the sweetness nips and tickles your insides. It inundates your tastebuds.

You haven’t tasted anything this delicately divine in months. The table has their eyes on you. Even that stubborn one opposite you. You look up, redness returning to your face.

You raise a hand to cover your mouth as you say, “They really are that good.” They laugh at you, Denki calling “I told you so” as they do.

You continue to eat in silence (except for Denki’s pornographic moans). Once Katsuki finishes, he grumbles as he starts cleaning up the table. You’re the last to finish. When you do, the angry blond is by your side grabbing your plate.

You gaze up at him, syrup glistening on your lips as you lick it away. You thank him for making you pancakes and he grunts in response, never looking at you once. Maybe he really is bad at expressing how he feels, you think.

After breakfast, Denki gives you a pair of his track pants to wear (cause he has the most slutty hips out of them all). They fit well enough besides from being too long on you. You then change into another of Eijiro’s shirts and fix your hair.

You meet your alphas in the entryway, and you slip on your shoes from when you first arrived. You all pile into Katsuki’s car and he drives you to the mall.

You can feel your mood lifting as you walk around the shops. How long has it been since you’ve done this? It feels so… normal compared to what your life has been like lately. You find yourself smiling more and more as you walk into various shops, and the boys gossip about your change in mood when you’re not looking.

At first, you mainly stick with Eijiro or Denki as you’re unsure of browsing alone. In every clothes store you walk into, your alphas fight over what they think you would look best in, seldom agreeing on one garment. The sight freaks you out at first but you soon learn that that’s how they are. And it starts to make you giggle.

You end up leaving them crowded around a table of jeans to look at a display that caught your attention. You look at the shirts and shorts sprawled out on the table, picking up those you like one at a time to admire them.

You hum to the song playing in the background as you continue browsing, picking up pieces that you think would look good on you. At some point, the boys realise that you’ve wandered off and go into panic mode. They spread out in the huge store to look for you.

They find you fairly quickly, being pro heroes n’ all. Eijiro takes your armful of clothes and heads to the fitting rooms with you. He places the clothes in the stall before telling you he’ll be waiting outside. You nod and start trying on the clothes. 

You don’t like most of them. They fit funny, the mirror makes you look fat, and the puffy sleeves give you man shoulders. You sigh after taking off another shirt that’s far too tight on the chest area. You sit down on the little stool provided and groan at the thought of putting all of these clothes back on their hangers.

After two hours of clothes shopping, you end up with one bag of a few clothes that Katsuki paid for and is carrying.

You walk together, Katsuki in front, Denki by your side, and Eijiro and Sero behind you. Your legs are aching from all of the walking and standing you’ve been doing. You don’t have the pro-hero stamina the boys do. Denki leans down slightly as he points to the bag Katsuki’s carrying.

He says, “Don’t you want more?”

You shake your head before replying, “Most of them fit weird.” He hums in response. Without thinking, you gently tug on Denki’s long sleeve.

“Can-Oh, um,” you start. His nervous chuckles cut you off. He quickly reassures you that it’s fine, and you continue, “Can we sit down for a bit?”

Denki claps happily. He turns around to the pair behind you and says excitedly, “Ladies! Guess what time it is?!” Hanta shrugs while Eijiro sighs.

“It’s time to get manicures!!” Denki exclaims. You giggle at his enthusiasm.

On the way to the nail salon, Hanta groans about how embarrassing this is (but secretly, you think he likes it the most). Once you arrive, you are split up. You hum as you sit at the little counter, watching the nail technician clip your cuticles away.

As they start filing your nails, you look up and around the quaint salon. You notice how relaxed the boys seem. Except for Katsuki. Kinda. You can see him scowling and staring intently as the nail tech trims his nails. The sight warms your heart and makes you feel all fuzzy for some reason.

He doesn’t seem so bad, you think. You two aren’t exactly best buds, but you feel more comfortable with the prospect of getting to know him now.

When you get up to wash your hands at the basin, you run into Denki staring at the nail polish wall. You come up beside him and ask him what colour he’s going to choose.

“I always do black but, I’m thinking of doing silver this time,” he says. He grabs a dark grey-silver polish from the wall and asks you what you think. You tell him that you like it.

He grabs your hand, his touch warm. His skin is so milky, you think, as you stare at your hands. He places the bottle of nail polish next to your pointer finger and looks up at you expectantly.

He beams, “Look! We should get matching!” You chuckle and take the bottle from him, observing it and thinking his proposition over.

In the end, you two get matching polish. You’re giggling dumbly as you walk out, looking at each other’s hands and saying you should take a photo. The suggestion seems to set off light bulbs in Denki’s mind.

“A phone!” He exclaims. You shrug, and he turns around. He starts rambling to the other alphas about how they should get you a phone. Naturally, you protest this idea because you don’t want them to spend so much money on you (it makes you feel bad), but they insist. Something about keeping in touch or whatever.

You relent and let them take you to one of those enormous and overly bright tech stores. You wander around the store, following the boys to where all of the phones are. You see that they’re selling the phone you’ve been eyeing for months before you were kidnapped.

You signal to your pick and soon, you’re strolling out of the store with your new phone in your hands. You thank them for being so generous and kind to you before heading back to the house.

When you get back, you flop down on your bed and shut your eyes for a few minutes. You feel content to just lie there and think over everything that has happened today. How sweet everyone — even Mr Grumbles — has been to you. The thought of them arguing and of your manicures brings a smile to your face.

Eventually, you convince yourself to sit up and unpack everything Katsuki bought for you. You save your new phone for last. Giggling excited, you grab the box and begin carefully opening the packaging. You slot your SIM card in and of course, groan as you have to go ask someone for the WIFI password. Shortly, your new phone is all set up. You grin wide as you look down at it and ‘Hello’ stares back at you.

taglist - @qyuin @nervoussangel @xxdiaqiaoxx @misscaller06

twitter recreation

shinsou hitoshi x fem!reader ⋆｡°✩ — nsfw, porn link below, spanking, bondage, shinsou's a pro hero (and a freak), implied penetrative sex, oral sex f!receiving, 3.3k words

twitter porn video mentioned in the fic here (watch and read at your own risk; please be responsible; you have to login to watch it)

inspired by @missdynamighttt's 'bakugou twitter porn links'

You were scrolling through Twitter mindlessly until you came across a rather… lewd video. You haven’t been on Twitter in ages and were oblivious to the kind of sensitive content circulating on the app until now.

Curiously, you click on the ‘show content’ banner and watch with wide eyes as a woman gets pounded by her lover. What catches your eye is the white strap binding her ankles to her hands. It’s tied so prettily, almost like a bow around her wrists. You tilt your head, letting the video replay as you get a better look at the bonds.

Unbeknownst to you, your lover has strode into the living room, utterly bewildered by the foreign moans rippling off the warm walls. He’s dripping wet, fresh out of the shower. He clears his throat and you look up, seeing him standing tall above you. He smiles lazily at you and leans over to glimpse your screen.

“Whatcha watching, doll?” You turn your phone around, and he takes it from your hands. Your eyes rove over his frame, relishing the clear droplets beading his lavender locks and defined contours.

You laugh nervously, “Y-yea I was just scrolling, and this came up.” He gazes at you briefly, a smirk lingering on his full lips.

“Oh yea?” His voice is raspy, just the way you like it. You nod enthusiastically, feeling a familiar heat crawling up your cheeks. He shrugs and hands your phone back to you before walking off.

You call out, “Yea u-um, yea that was weird.” He stops near the TV, noticing the high pitch of your voice. He half-turns back to gaze at you.

“Yea,” he says, smiling. You can hear your heart thumping in your chest as the seconds pass in silence. What were you doing?! It’s just a video you usually wouldn’t have bat an eyelash at. But now that your boyfriend is here, looking so delectable… Your mind is a mess; any coherent thought left leaks out of your ears.

“Anything else, kitten?” He asks cockily. His brow is raised slightly as he glances you up and down. You gulp.

“N-no, ugh, well…” You start. One of your favourite parts about dating Shinso is that he is more than willing to try anything new and different in the bedroom. You sigh quietly as you consider asking him if bondage is something he’d be into. It’s not something you’ve ever considered before, scared off by all those images of women bound by rope and hanging from ceilings. But maybe something tame, like you saw in the video, would be a good place to start.

Your boyfriend knows the words dancing across your tongue. He’s amused as he watches you fight yourself. He loves that little furrow in your brow whenever you think too hard.

Seeing you gnaw on the bottom of your lip, he realises that you are indeed overthinking what asking him to tie you up would entail. He comes over and sits next to you on the couch. His body brushes yours and his calloused palm clasps your knee.

He squeezes it as he says, “Is there something you’d like to ask me?” You squeak like a mouse, hearing his words, and shake your head. He sighs from how you’re testing his patience. He loves it when you’re shy, but goddamn, is it annoying sometimes. He gently pinches the fat of your thigh and rolls the flesh between his fingertips.

You remain quiet for a few moments before mumbling, “Toshi.” He hums, attempting to contain the cocky smirk spreading across his face as he waits for you to continue.

You say hesitantly, “Would you, um, consider t-tying me up like that?” You burn holes into the back of his hand on your leg, not daring to look up. Your cheeks are aflame, and you can hear your blood rushing in your veins. Seconds stretch on for eternity as you frown. This was a stupid idea, you think. I shouldn’t have said that. He must think I’m such a frea—

Your boyfriend chuckles, “As if I wouldn’t want to.” Your eyes widen and you turn your head, meeting his purple gaze. His eyes are narrow from his laughter, crinkled in the way you love.

You playfully slap his chest, exclaiming, “Don’t laugh at me!” The gesture causes him to bellow, your anxiety about such a request the funniest thing he’s encountered to date. You pout, but soon, you’re laughing with him, intoxicated by his joy. Your body leans into his subconsciously as you get out the last giggles.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and draws you close, tenderly kissing your forehead. You sigh as your noses brush, his lips ghosting yours. They are so supple, compelling you to lean in and seal them.

Your kiss is slow, the both of you testing the waters before your hands entangle in each other’s hair. Hot bodies press together with carnal need, tongues licking and seeking purchase within the other. You moan into his mouth as his teeth graze your lower lip. Your fingers curl and tug his locks, needing him impossibly closer.

He smirks, your tongue sliding over his teeth before he bites down harshly on your lip and then sucks it. You mewl deliciously, one hand rubbing the flushed skin of his nape. He trails kisses down your jaw, his hand pulling your hair back so your neck is exposed to him. You cry out as he sucks on your tender flesh. He pulls off your neck with a wet squelch, smirking lazily at the red mark he’s seared into your skin.

Hands roam and grasp, anxious to feel more and more of one another. You mumble his name into his wild locks, the strands tickling your nose, as he claws at the neckline of your shirt (which is actually his). He groans, nose flicking your jaw as he tilts his head back. His gaze is hazy, filled with lust and adoration. He urges you to continue.

“C-can you-Are we gonna go to bed now?” You breathe out. Grinning, he kisses the corner of your mouth and adjusts his grip on you. He whisks you away to your bedroom. Leaving the door ajar, he stalks over to the plush white bed and drops you in the centre of it. You yelp as your back collides with the thick quilt. When you rise, your hair is dishevelled and your eyes frantically search for your lavender boy.

He waves at you from the bedroom door and instructs you not to move. You nod, albeit confused. He returns with your phone in hand. He plops down on the bed next to you, bouncing a little from the springs.

You take your phone from him as he points at your lock screen and asks, “Can I get another look at that video, doll?” You hum as you unlock your phone and go to the Twitter app. Luckily, the video is still open. You show it to him, the volume turned down this time. His dark brows furrow as he carefully scans the bindings like they’re a potential villain. He watches the video like he’s waiting for a crime to happen, alert and analytical.

After a few minutes, he gets up and heads over to your closet. Sliding the door to the side, he starts searching for something on the top shelf. You tilt your head to the side as you observe him.

“What’re you looking for, baby?” You say sweetly.

Your lover chuckles low, “You’ll see.” He pulls down a black shoebox. It’s your shoebox. The one your black kitten heels came in that Toshi bought for you last month. He drops it next to you and pops off the lid. The contents make your eyes pop out of your skull.

You knew that your boyfriend was a bit kinky. And you knew that he kept certain… items on hand for when you two had kinky sex. But what you didn’t know was how he kept this on hand without your knowledge.

Inside the box was a hardware store range of ropes in various colours and sizes. You blink dumbly, your mouth half open like a dead fish as he starts pulling them out one by one to examine them.

You stutter, “T-Toshi. W-why do you h-have so many?” He grins as his gaze flickers to you.

He shrugs, “I’ve gotta be prepared for your curious mind, kitten.” You close your dry mouth and stare at him as he continues going through the ropes. Picking up a shiny, red rope, he hums and places it on your lap.

He points to it, saying, “This is bamboo rope.” He gently grabs your wrist and places your hand on the bundle. You sigh as your skin makes contact with it. It’s so soft and smooth. You finger the rope as you gaze up at him.

He continues, “It feels nice on the skin, meaning that if you wriggle around—” He smirks arrogantly, “When you wriggle around, it won’t hurt as much as some other kinds of rope. What do you think?” You nod and hum.

You say softly, “Can we test it?” He chuckles as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

He murmurs against your skin, “Sure.” Pulling back, he takes the rope from your hands and unravels it. With his guidance, you raise your wrists, and he loops the rope around them. He pulls it taut and confirms with you that the bindings aren’t too tight before tying them.

He rasps, “And now, struggle.” You hum as you try to wriggle out of the rope. You huff as it glides over your skin, silky smooth, condescending. You end up sticking your foot between your wrists in an attempt to get it off, but your lover’s laughter makes you halt. He scolds you lightly for potentially hurting yourself as he unpicks the knot easily. He unwraps your now slightly red wrists. You point at the spot with pouty lips.

Setting down the rope, he cups your cheeks and kisses you passionately. Pulling back, he rests his forehead on yours. He chuckles breathily, “Not my fault you were struggling like a hostage.” You shift back and stick your tongue out at him. Smiling, he kisses the tip of your nose and informs you that those marks will be gone within an hour.

“Now,” he starts. “Take this off.” He gestures to his shirt that you’re wearing. You stare back at him for a few seconds, computing what he just said. You nod awkwardly, get up and strip off your clothes while he puts the other ropes back in the box.

Once you’re bare, he commands, “Lay down on your tummy.” You obey, jolting slightly as he slides the rope box onto the floor with a thud. You feel the bed dip with his weight, that familiar crawling sensation cascading across your skin as his eyes rake over you.

All is quiet as your boyfriend stares at you, the gears turning in his mind. You can almost hear them as you wait in anticipation.

“To—” You start.

“Actually,” he says while his hands wrap around the backs of your knees. He pushes them forward, folding your legs in a v underneath you (like a child’s pose) while he continues, “Just bend your knees, yea, just like that pretty girl. And give me your wrists.” You lift your arms and he grasps your forearms, bringing your hands together behind your back.

You flinch as you feel the cool rope wrap around your ankle, his fingertips caressing your hot flesh and sending tingles up your spine. He coos at you to relax, and you hum, closing your eyes as he loops the rope around your ankle a few times before tying it off. The intimacy of this moment has heat pooling in your stomach and arousal oozing from your cunt. Next, he binds your wrists together. You wriggle as he fastens the knot, earning a low chuckle from him.

Your voice is squished from this position as you remark, “I thought she was lying flat.” Shinso hums as he circles your other ankle with the rope. After he ties it, he grabs your phone.

You can hear his smirk as he says, “Password still my birthday?” You hum affirmatively. He leans over your body, warm skin on skin. He’s propped up on his elbows, caging you in as he positions your phone in front of your face.

As the video plays, he points to the rope bunny, saying, “D’you see how her hips are raised slightly? If you lay down flat and then I tie you up, you won’t achieve the same effect. But if I tie you up like this, I can stretch you out. Make sense?” Your hum sounds more like a whine as you nod enthusiastically. Your lover doesn’t miss how you’re chomping on your lower lip as he eases off you. He places your phone on the bedside table before sitting on his haunches behind you.

You wriggle beneath his gaze, anxious for him to stop staring at you. But he can’t. He’s in awe of how beautiful you look right now. The way the red silky rope gently digs into your skin, making your flesh appear so soft and supple. And speaking of supple, your ass looks so round right now.

Shinso licks his lips like a hungry predator, sizing up his prey. You gasp as you feel his large hands cup your ass before squishing it.

You stutter, “B-baby—”

He shushes you before sighing, “Be quiet, doll.” You hum in agreement, but the soft sound is shattered by a sudden cry as your lover slaps your ass cheek. You lurch forward, pulling at your restraints.

You say wide-eyed and breathy, “Toshi, what’re you doing?!”

He chuckles cockily, “I’m taking care of my girl. What else would I be doing?” He slips his fingers through your gooey folds, groaning at how wet you are for him already. You moan pathetically, your eyes closing instinctively as you enjoy feeling his fingers trail over your clit. His other hand rubs a couple of soft circles on your ass cheek before he slaps it again.

You jolt away, your eyes snapping open as you whine, “Toshi!”

He grunts, “A bit forgetful, huh? I asked you a question, kitten.” You whine as he grabs your hips and draws you back to him. Those teasing fingers thread through your slippery cunt, rubbing small circles on your clit. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly as you try and think of what he asked you. But you can’t remember. The waves of pleasure emanating from your heat have your brain all foggy. Your boyfriend smacks your ass again.

You cry out his name as you try and move away, but his fingers that were on your clit now dig into your hip bone, holding you close.

He says amused, “You worried ‘bout what I might do if you answer me?”

You shake your head vigorously, gasping, “Anything but that, Toshi. You know that.” He laughs shortly, gently patting your now-red cheek.

“I know, baby,” he coos. He leans down and kisses your buns. He grips both sides of your hips and pushes you forward. You turn your face to the side as your cheek presses into the plush quilt. Its fresh scent lingers in the air as you mewl, Shinso’s tongue sliding through your slit. As he sucks on your clit, you moan loudly. His mouth is so hot, his tongue melting all the tension in your body and replacing it with pure pleasure.

He eats you out like a depraved man (because he is). Air means nothing to him when he’s got your slick saturating his tastebuds. He groans against your cunt, making you mewl at the deep vibrations.

He mumbles into your folds, “Taste so good, doll.” You cry out as he sucks harshly on your clit, struggling in your bindings.

“Fuck-fuck, Toshi!” He pulls off your clit with a pop, leaving you panting and mewling softly. He pecks your sensitive bud before returning to drinking your juices like they’re the elixir of life.

Once he’s satisfied, he comes up to the surface and takes a few deep breaths. His lips shine like the bamboo rope, but instead with your arousal. He shifts, wincing at his painful erection before taking off his sweat shorts and trunks hastily. He chucks them across the room and looks around dazed for the lube.

You whine, not feeling his hands or mouth on you for the last minute, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Licking his lips, he grumbles, “’M getting the lube.”

You laugh airily, the sound heavenly to his ears, “I don’t think we need that, babe. You should know how wet I am right now.” He curses beneath his breath. You do make a good point, but—

“I don’t wanna hurt you, doll. Now be quiet, or I’ll smack your ass,” he grunts.

You hum and say cheekily, “I wouldn’t mind that.” He sighs, running his slick-soaked fingers through his slightly damp hair as he stalks over to the bedside table.

As he enters your line of vision, you chirp, “You look so hard right now. That must hurt. You know, I can help with that.” He grabs the bottle of lube harshly, squeezing it so tight his knuckles turn white.

He turns to stare at your folded frame, grumbling, “Feeling chatty all of a sudden, aren’t we?” You giggle as you return his gaze. His heart stammers, breath catching between his lips at your beauty, all bound for him and oh-so playful.

Your boyfriend hastily climbs onto the bed. You grin, hearing the snap of the bottle lid, and sigh as his hot hands glide the cool lube across your skin; a rather delicious combination. He groans as he spreads it through your folds, excited by how sweet and tasty they look glazed. Even more so when that glazing is his cream.

You rock your hips back as much as you can (which isn’t much), desperate to feel his hands on you again (they’re pumping his cock right now). He gives your ass cheek a light smack and chastises you for being so impatient.

You whine, “C’mon, baby. Just fuck me already.” He chuckles gruffly. The sound curls around your toes and licks its way up your legs, causing more slick to gush from your hole.

He shifts closer, thighs brushing against yours in a wet press. His tip is at your entrance. You mewl as you attempt to shift back but, Shinso grabs your hips and keeps you right there.

“Patience, baby,” he clicks his tongue. Sighing, he pushes his cock through your folds, rejoicing in how delicate they feel around him. He draws back and pushes his hips forward, threading his cock through your lips again. The sensation of his tip against your clit is godsent. You moan loudly and clench your fists, trying to keep yourself together as he teases you relentlessly.

The sun’s chariot is drawn across the sky, descending into the depths as the moon is pulled high overhead. The constellations gaze upon the unholy things your boyfriend does to you that night, bound by silence as you are by ropes. By the time he’s done with you, the sheets are filthy with your sweat and slick, the scent of sex stifling.

In a waste of water, you two shower together, basking in each other’s presence and whispering sweet-nothings into one another’s ears. You sigh into your lover’s hold, content to feel his steady grip, those meaty arms curled around you just tight enough to make you feel protected and safe but not uncomfortable.

He kisses up the length of your neck, mumbling into your skin insincere apologies for all of the hickeys he’s engraved into your flesh. But you forgive him, you always do.

the bird in me

hawks x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — bird mating drabbles, throwing up, you're a barista, fluff, sexual implications at the end, 3.5k words

a/n: this has to be one of my favourite works so far

regurgitation

it’s bad. every time he sees you, he can feel the churning in his stomach. something as simple as a smile or wave is enough to have his fist pressed to his lips, loudly clearing his suddenly tight throat.

every time you talk, he’s trying hard not to make a fool of himself (and failing miserably). he’s constantly ahem-ing or coughing, anything to push the rising bile back down his oesophagus.

he wills himself to be a man, to take the acidic burn with pride because he’s fortunate enough to be acknowledged by such a beautiful and intelligent girl. but by the five-minute mark, he’s excusing himself to the bathroom and throwing up this morning’s breakfast.

you thought he was just shy at first, but as it continues to happen, you begin to think he doesn’t like you.

the bell chimes as the café door swings shut. you gaze over the coffee machine, spotting those bright red feathers against the gloom of the night.

you take a deep breath in, rolling your eyes as you drawl, “we closed ten minutes ago, mr hawks.” a nervous laugh, your interest is piqued.

“i know, dove, but i wanted to see you,” he says confidently, only to clear his throat right afterwards.

your brow furrows, and you say more bluntly than intended, “well, i don’t know. you’re always trying to run away from me. your usual?”

“yes please,” he says, waltzing over to you. he rests his weight against the bench, watching you brew his double-shot cappuccino. ahem. he continues. “and i’m not trying to run away from you. never have—”

“doesn’t seem that way to me,” you cut him off. he coughs ostentatiously into his elbow, his face heating up from the sheer strength it’s taking to not throw up right now. he can’t help it!

you continue as you pour the thick foam into the takeaway cup, “you’ve only got few minutes for me before you’re dashing off. i mean i know you’re busy, but do you not have any better excuses? like, for a pro hero, you sure are shit at lying.” you’re glaring holes into the creamy milk as you shake chocolate powder on top of it.

you mumble, “if you don’t like me you can just say so.” the snap of the lid on the little paper cup echoes through the empty café. hawks hears his heart crack a little at your words. not like you? how could he not like you?! wasn’t it obvious—ahem!

he gasps, “bathroom?” you roll your eyes.

“at the back. hey!” your arms are raised as you glare after him, watching as he rushes to the bathroom.

you whisper-yell to yourself, “what the fuck?!” you slide his hot coffee to the edge of the bench and huff, fed up with his perplexing behaviour. if the night wasn’t so still, and the streets surrounding your tiny café so quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him violently throwing up in the men’s bathroom. but you do.

your eyes widen and then crinkle as you wince, wishing that such disgusting sounds weren’t ricocheting off the walls. you pull the bow of your apron loose and shrug it off, leaving it on a nearby table as you make your way to the bathrooms.

you hear the toilet flush as you body slam the heavy, olive green door open. white lights sting your eyes as you search for any sign of your most loyal customer. you find him resting against an open stall door, eyes closed, lips chapped, and forehead beading with sweat.

“mr hawks?” you say gently. his golden eyes shoot open and find you immediately. he smiles incredulously, and his voice is thick as he rasps, “this is the men’s ro—”

“shut the fuck up. are you okay?” you shift closer to him, but he moves back, calves hitting the toilet seat. you stop in your tracks, caging him in the small stall. his eyes dart to the side as he weighs up how to get out of the corner he’s backed himself into.

seeing his nervousness, you sigh. you turn and begin to walk out of the bathroom. he catches your elbow by the sinks and pulls you into his chest. you yelp as you hit his solid frame, utterly bewildered. his large hands gently squeeze your upper arms as you tilt your head up, gazing at him.

you mutter, “what is it?” he shakes his head, eyes dropping and unintentionally resting on your collarbone peeking out of your uniform. great, the pro hero thinks. that familiar sensation is reignited at the base of his throat.

he chokes out, “i-just give me a minute.” he let’s go of your arms and wanders back into the stall, shutting the door and bolting it this time. you groan, wrapping your arms around yourself as you listen to him throw up again, his chunky symphony amplified by these fuck ass tiles.

interjecting the flush of the toilet is the stall door slamming open. out strolls a lazily grinning hawks. he chuckles, “don’t tell me you have to clean in here.”

you sigh, “of course i do.”

he stops in front of you and shrugs, “then give me the mop and bucket and i’ll take care of it, alright?”

you shake your head, muttering, “look don’t worry about that. are you okay? what’s going on? you just threw up like twice. do you have food pois—”

“i feel great, actually. now, about what you were saying earlier,” he reaches out and takes your hands in his awfully clammy ones.

your shoulders slump as you huff, trying to pull your hands back. “hawks—”

“ya know, i really wish you would stop calling me that, dove.” he draws you in close, his body heat seeping through his clothes into you.

you retort, “and i really wish that you would stop interrupting me.” he opens his mouth, sucking in a breath as though he’s about to speak, and then he doesn’t.

the stifling air is quiet for a moment before the pro hero mutters, “sorry.” you shake your head as your mouth draws into a hard line. but you inevitably soften as he jerks away from you, coughing.

quietening down, he rasps, “i really like you, okay? i’m not trying to run away from you. quite the opposite, actually.” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, concerned that you can feel his heart jumping out of his chest. at least his stomach isn’t lurching anymore. he really did need that release.

seconds pass in tense silence as you wait for him to explain. he sighs, “i swear, y/n, i like you.”

“but,” you say, emphasising the ‘t’. he looks away from you, gathering his courage for what he’s about to say.

he breathes out, “don’t laugh, okay?” you nod, about to tear your hair out from the suspense. this man really knows how to dodge questions, you think.

“every time i see you… i wanna throw up.” he mutters that last part at the end as he gazes down at the minute crevices between your bodies.

your eyes widen as you exclaim, “you what?!” he grip tightens on your hands as he shakes his head fervently.

“because-um-it’s a bird thing. i wanna throw up because i like you, okay?” your mouth hangs half-open as you try to register his words.

he brings your hands to his lips and chastely kisses your knuckles. you stare at him in disbelief, stuttering, “i-it’s a bird thing? you-you wanting to throw up every time you see me?”

he nods, “technically, i want to regurgitate every time i see you. the bird part of me wants to prove to you that i’m a good partner.”

that night, you make sure he’s had some food and electrolytes before drinking his cold cappuccino.

preening

ever since you two started dating, it’s become a routine for kei to preen his feathers just before bed, and for you to simply sit across from him on the sofa, reading a book, scrolling on your phone, or watching him.

but tonight as you take up your usual spot on the couch, kei plops down next to you. he gently nudges your arm, catching your attention.

you mumble, “what is it, babe?” as you lock your phone. he kisses from your cheek to your jaw, earning an airy giggle from you.

he mutters into your skin, “will you preen my wings tonight?” your eyes widen as you let out a stuttered breath.

you pull back, saying nervously, “k-kei, honey, you sure? i’ve never preened anything before.” he hums as he slides off the couch and sits on the floor in front of you. he holds up a bottle of oil and you take it from him while explains how to preen his feathers.

you start with the feathers closest to his body and work your way out, from top to bottom. as your fingers work over his feathers, pulling debris from them and realigning the barbs, your bird boy hums.

you drop another piece of tarmac on the coffee table, saying, “you could hide a fucking road in here with how much rubble i’m pulling out right now.” kei chuckles and sighs, feeling you remove yet another remnant of today’s battles.

“are they always this dirty?” you question. your hero nods. it takes longer for you to preen him than if kei were to preen his feathers, but he appreciates your delicate and loving touch.

and the next night, he asks if you can preen his wings again. and soon, your routine has changed to you preening his feathers every night before bed.

gift-giving, scent marking, nesting

the cold winter nights warm and scrawny branches bloom with flowers, signifying that spring has arrived.

it was subtle at first, kei would bring home flowers for you every few days, claiming that his perfect girl deserved to be spoiled. and he claimed the same when he started making the most delicious dinners for you two every night, and when he started gifting you the most luxurious necklaces and shoes and bags you’ve ever owned.

when you woke up this morning, your bed sheets smelt of citrus. so fresh and divine, you sighed and rolled around, cocooning yourself in the quilt to get another whiff of that scent. you liked the smell so much that you got out of bed still wrapped up in the quilt, and dragged it around home with you all day (it’s your day off).

as kei closes the door behind him after another long day, you rush up to him, quilt left lonely. you throw yourself into his awaiting arms, sighing as his zesty scent washes over you. you sigh, melding your body against his as you inhale his musk.

he chuckles softly, “hey, dove. missed me, huh?”

you hum and mumble into his compression shirt, “you smell so good. since when did you smell like citrus though?” pulling back and pointing to the quilt on the sofa, you continue, “i thought you just bought some new laundry detergent or something.”

kei shrugs it off, claiming that he bought a new cologne (lies). but not before he draws you back into his arms and rubs the side of his face and neck all over your face and neck. sighing, you let him off the hook but resolve to keep an eye on him.

rummaging through his duffle bag, he says excitedly, "d'you wanna see what i got you, dove?" you press your lips together, disappointed by kei's spending habits lately. but not for long as he hands you a sealed box of the perfume you've been eying for years (it's vanilla2 by maison tahité for me).

you squeal in delight and thank him profusely, smothering his cheeks and lips and stubble with kisses before skipping off to your room to try your new perfume (kei rocks you gently as you have a cry over how blessed you are to have such an attentive partner).

for the next week, you swear you can hear shuffling in the early hours of the morning. as soon as you lift your head off the pillows though and search the dark room for some kind of movement, everything stills. you usually fall back asleep, but tonight is a bit different.

again, you wake to muffled sounds emanating from somewhere in your apartment. groaning, you bury your head into your pillow, only to rise from it a minute later when you hear a loud thud. roused from your sleepy daze, you get out of bed and caress the door frame for wayyy too long before you eventually find the light switch.

your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness quickly, and everything looks the same as it usually does. but something is missing. or rather, someone.

you step out of your shared bedroom and stare down the hall, seeing a familiar glow curling its fingers beneath one of the doors. as you approach it, you realise that the light is coming from kei’s office.

but it’s not just the light that is coming from his office. this sound, like something sliding against the floorboards, resonates from behind the wooden door.

you stand outside his office, leaning your ear against the door to eavesdrop. but the noise stops abruptly, as if kei (who you assume is inside) knows you’re right there.

you turn the doorknob and push the door open, revealing a dishevelled-looking kei amidst a heap of blankets. you blink at him dumbly, sleepily, and confused.

“kei,” you drawl. “what’re you doing?” he chuckles nervously as he stands from his crouched position and comes over to you, tripping on a blanket’s edge in the process. you catch his upper arms and help him to steady himself.

he gazes at you frantically, muttering, “’mnotdoinganythingchickpea. whydon’twegobacktobed?” his hands encircle your wrists and gently push you back toward the door. you shake your head.

“keigo takami,” you say in that serious tone parents reserve for when their child misbehaves. “what’re tryna hide from me?”

“nothing!” he exclaims far too loudly and quickly. you raise your brow at him while your eyes trail over his messy hair and half-unbuttoned pj shirt. you catch a glimpse of his toned muscles and golden-brown snail trail beneath the soft cotton. you gulp and avert your eyes to the mess behind him. he side steps, blocking your view.

you groan, “keigo.”

“please dove, promise i’ll show you later, okay?” he pleads.

you roll your eyes, sighing, “you cooking up a grand masterpiece or something back there?” he nods and hums. you let him have his way, following him back to bed and curling tight into his chest, hoping he won’t be able to get away without waking you.

for the next week, you’re banned from entering kei’s office. he claims that he’s working on a big surprise for you, which melts your heart and makes you laugh.

one night after dinner, he takes you by the hand and leads you to his office. dramatic as ever, he makes you close your eyes before he opens the door and guides you inside. when you open your eyes, you see the fruits of his efforts.

before you lies a little nook crafted out of throws and cushions. you giggle as you take in his little nest. it looks so cosy and inviting. 

you exclaim, “kei, this is so sweet!” you turn around and warmly hug him, content to nuzzle into his zesty scent. he kisses your forehead and nudges you closer to his nest. he holds your hand as you sit down in the centre of it, relishing in his overpowering musk. he sits next to you and cuddles with you, peppering your face and neck with tender kisses as he mumbles against your hot flesh how much he loves you.

interpretive dance and singing

it’s the peak of spring; the flowers are in full bloom, the skies are blue, and the temperature is just right for you to wear all your favourite dresses.

tonight is like most other nights. after preening kei’s feathers, you take a shower. you’re soothing moisturiser into your skin as your boyfriend comes into view. you gaze at him in the mirror, smiling brightly. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, ignorant of the damp towel enveloping your body.

pouring body oil into your palm, you tell him to move. but he doesn’t budge an inch. instead, he wipes the oil out of your palm and warms it in his rough hands. he caresses your shoulders, briefly massaging them before rubbing the oil into your back. his fingertips dip below the towel’s edge, earning a sigh from you.

you tilt your head back to look at your lover. he grins down at you and gently kisses you while wrapping his arms around yours and pulling you back into his firm body.

craving his sweetness, you turn around in his hold, cupping his cheeks and deepening the kiss. tongues swirl and ignite a buried fire in the pits of your stomachs.

kei’s hands roam your body as he sucks on your lower lip. such teasing touches have your towel slipping and eventually pooling on the bathroom floor. he grips your hips, squeezing them as he groans into your mouth.

you two separate for a brief moment, catching your breath and each other’s eyes. he gazes at you lustfully; he’s desperate to mould your body to his all night long, to make you his in the most intimate of ways.

your fingers trail up his exposed biceps before you wrap your arms around his neck. you draw him down to you, smirking as you whisper in his ear, “i know you want me, baby.”

he chuckles gruffly against your skin, the sound doing unholy things to you. his citrusy scent is intoxicating up this close. you breathe in deeply, his thick musk filling your lungs.

he rasps, “yea, i do. i want you so bad, dove.” you hum before nipping at his ear lobe. the small gesture sends a thrill of pleasure shuddering throughout his body.

kei should know this by now, but nothing comes for free. he’s seen the cruelty of this world, and even though you’re his escape from it all, he shouldn’t be as wide-eyed and breathless from your next words.

“oh yea? show me,” you whisper seductively. it’s like everything was dark before you spoke. and now that you have, the lights have been switched on. your words are like the gospel, true and calling him to action. and yet, they’re so impure. kei has been enlightened.

he steps back from you, the cool air wafting over your bare skin. your nipples harden as you bite your lip, looking at him nervously. your lover shakes his head, saying lowly, “meet me in the living room once you’re done.” you hum as you nod, rather intrigued by kei’s sudden change in mood.

when you’ve finally finished your post-shower routine, you head to the living room. your jaw slackens, and your brows raise as you enter, seeing the coffee table moved and couches pushed back to create space in the centre. you blink dumbly as he comes over to you.

he wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you to one of the sofas, saying cockily, “take a seat, chickpea.” you follow his instruction, making yourself comfortable on the sofa while your boyfriend steps back. he catches your eyes, the look in his awfully serious.

you ask confused, “kei, what’s going on?” he shakes his head.

clearing his throat, he begins to sing. you blink at him dumbly as you register his sweet praises that are surprisingly on-key. he spreads his arms wide before rolling his wrists and body in time with his words. you grab the nearest cushion and hold it tight as your mouth hangs open.

your eyes are trained on his quick, rhythmic movements. he spins around and jumps, his voice never faltering. you shriek playfully as he locks eyes with you. his wings spread out to his sides, his beautiful feathers on full display. you can feel your face heating up, cooking beneath the heat of this moment.

you can’t stop staring at him, drinking in how good he is at interpretive dance. you shriek again as he slaps his thighs in a wide stance. your laugh is stuttered as you raise the cushion up, blocking your view of him.

his singing stops and in a moment, the cushion is snatched from your hands and hurled across the room.

he pants, “’m not done, dove. watch me.”

you stutter in disbelief, “n-not done?” he hums as he steps back, ready to continue his performance.

shaking your head, you exclaim, “kei, kei, it’s okay! you don’t have to keep going.”

he pouts, “don’t you like my dance? or my song?” you’re rendered speechless as you stare at him. he tilts his head toward you expectantly, but you can’t speak. you’re far too stunned by his musical display to say anything. the air shifts as he chuckles softly and steps toward you. he plops down on top of you, squishing you against the sofa.

he mutters into the crook of your neck, “did i show you have much i want you?” you groan from his weight as you thread your fingers through his hair.

you kiss his damp forehead, saying amusedly, “oh yea. i, uh, i liked that song you sang. what’s it called? ‘the bird in me’?” he bites your shoulder lightly, but the sudden sensation makes you gasp.

your hands are already shoving at his chest as he grunts sarcastically, “yea, it’s called ‘the bird in me’. i wrote it just for you, chickpea.” he raises his head and pulls off you a little, giving you a bit of breathing room. your chest rises high, grazing his as you take in the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“now, let me have my reward.”

imagine long-term bf katsuki being hung up on what engagement ring to buy you. he’s gnawing at his cheeks, constantly sighing and running his fingers through his hair for a couple of months, trying to find a ring that’s good enough for you.

after patrol, he browses every reputable jewellery store in tokyo, searching for your engagement ring. he takes pictures of every one he thinks might suit you and sends them to eijiro.

shitty hair: idk about this one man. diamonds are nice but y/n gives more garnet or ruby vibes

explosive: the fuck you mean? i have to get her diamonds

shitty hair: nah bro, you should get something that suits her. not every girl wants diamonds.

explosive: stfu i know what she wants better than you do

shitty hair: 🤷‍♂️ just my opinion man

you noticed immediately that katsuki was coming home later than he usually does. you didn’t say anything at first because maybe something came up, and he did seem really exhausted.

but as weeks turn into months, you become suspicious. what is it that your boyfriend's doing after work that you can’t know about. he hasn’t changed how he treats you. if anything, he’s been even softer and sweeter with you lately.

you decide to confront him about it.

you sit at the kitchen table, waiting for him to come home. as 8pm fades into 10pm and drips into 12am, your anxiety ramps up. your palms are all sweaty and your heart beats erratically in your chest.

you’re on your feet as soon as the lock eventually clicks and the front door is forced open. you stalk up to a sleepy katsuki, who flings his duffel bag on the floor with a sigh.

when he turns around, you’re looking at him angrier than ever. there’s fire in your eyes as you stare up at him, your brows knitted together and jaw tight.

you spit out, “where have you been?” katsuki blinks slowly, too tired to register your words and respond. he moves to throw his arms around you, but you step back, dodging his embrace.

this time, you repeat yourself with more venom, “where have you been?” you sigh, “i’ve been waiting for you since eight.”

he grunts thickly, “why’d you stay up, babe?” you roll your eyes and slightly suck in your cheeks.

you say exasperatedly, “because i was worried about you. you’ve been coming home late from work for the last two months now.” you fold your arms beneath your chest as you scold him, “so where have you been?! seriously, like, where the fuck have you been wandering off to while i make you dinner and do your laundry?”

katsuki shakes his head, whispering, “baby, s’not like that.”

you catch his words and scoff, “so then, what is it like? i clearly don’t know so why don’t you tell me?”

his full lips draw into a hard line as he huffs, contemplating whether to tell you he’s been hunting for the perfect engagement ring for his perfect girl… and that he’s finally found one. it wasn’t easy, especially since he has just put up with yappertron 3000 chargebolt, skateboard freak elbows, and shitty hair for the past three hours while acquiring this ring.

he bites his tongue, mumbling, “look, i’ve just been busy, yea?”

you chuckle derisively, “you’ve been busy? right, okay.” you turn around and begin walking away from him when he catches your elbow. his grip is firm but considerate.

he tugs you back, making you stumble into his chest. you try to shove him away, but he doesn’t even budge as he draws you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly.

you shout, “just fuck off, katsuki!”

wincing, he rests his chin on the top of your head and murmurs, “no more late nights, baby, i promise. at least not for a while.” his body is so warm against yours, and his musk is so strong. you give up your assault on his concealed but delicious muscles and still in his grasp.

you grumble, “it’s not about the late nights, katsuki. it’s about you keeping things from me.” he kisses the top of your head and rubs circles on your back with his calloused palms.

he mutters into your hair, “i’ll tell you soon, okay?” you shake your head before tilting it back, returning his soft gaze with your harsher one.

you murmur, “so you’re not cheating on me? or are you cheating on me but intend to come clean?” your boyfriend’s mouth falls open as he stares at you, his blond brows raised slightly. regaining his composure, his usual scowl is back on his face.

he grumbles, “cheating? why the fuck would i be cheating on you?!” he licks his lips and gazes past you for a moment, sighing, “for fuck’s sake, babe. god, why the fuck would i be cheating on you? d’you really think i’m a cheater?!” you shake your head, taken aback by his sudden frustration.

he shouts, “I’VE NEVER CHEATED! NEVER! NOT LIKE FUCK-ASS DEKU WHO DIDN’T EVEN HAVE A QUIRK AND THEN—”

you gently pat his chest as you try to soothe him, “okay, okay, honey, it’s okay. i know you’re not a cheater.” after a few minutes, he calms down (for the most part).

he grunts, “d’you really think i’d do that?” a droplet of his spit hits your eyebrow. you go to wipe it away but he beats you to it, apologising all the while. you reassure him it's okay as you stroke his well-defined back up and down.

you say softly, “of course not. but if you’re not cheating on me, then what else are you doing? i just don’t understand, suki.” he shakes his head before settling back into the crook of your neck; his resting place.

he murmurs into your hot flesh, “just give me a few days n’ i’ll tell you, alright?” you pull back, cupping his cheeks with your hands while his fingers clench the back of your shirt.

you shake your head, saying, “you can tell me now.”

he huffs, “babe—”

“no,” you cut him off. “tell me now. i deserve to know why you’ve been coming home so late.” he gazes down momentarily as his fingers curl into your shirt even more, close to tearing the fabric with how tight his grip is.

he mumbles, “stubborn brat.”

it’s like something snaps. he releases your shirt from his killer grasp and smirks. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvety red, ring box.

he grabs your wrist and places it in your palm, saying, “that’s the reason.” he gazes at you expectantly, waiting for you to open the box. but you’re in shock.

your wide eyes bore into his narrow ones as you blink dumbly. your lips are slightly parted, open enough for the flies to make a home in your mouth. and they could with how little you’re registering right now. you can’t think or speak or move. all you know is that your long-term partner just placed a ring box in your hand.

katsuki rolls his eyes, attempting to hide the pain in his expression as you continue staring at him. he huffs, “well, are you gonna open it or not?”

you nod, your mouth awfully dry. you seal your lips as you shakily open the box. inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. leaves protrude from the band and petals encircle a bright ruby glistening in the golden living room light; a rose. your gaze flickers up to him before switching back to the ring, and then back up to him.

you stutter, “a-are y-you, u-um, a-ask-asking m-me t-too—”

“yes,” he says solemnly. “you’re everything to me, baby. s-so, yea, will you be my wife?” you nod furiously. smirking, he takes the little box from your hand and slips the ring onto your finger. all the tension pent up in his body dissipates as he embraces you once more.

you squeeze his slutty waist tight as you begin tearing up, trying to process that your boyfriend just became your fiancé. katsuki sweetly kisses your forehead before resting his against yours.

he mutters, “i don’t tell you how much i love you enough. clearly like fuck. i fuckin’ love you, baby girl. more than you’ll ever know.”

a/n: link to the engagement ring design here (please lmk if it doesn't work); just imagine that it's a ruby and not a diamond.

upgrade pt.1

pro hero! midoriya izuku x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — most of izu's arm has been amputated, hurt comfort, swearing, 4k words, resources used linked at the end, non-mha characters are made-up

pt.2, pt.3, epilogue

You were stirring tofu curry in your kitchen. It’s delicious scent curling up your nostrils, tendrils seeking your body and your home. The television was playing in the back. Sliced spring onions freshly chopped on the wooden chopping board next to the stove. You were humming softly to yourself your favourite song.

Today was the day that your pookie bear, Izuku, was coming back from his month long mission. It had been a gruelling four weeks of rushed phone calls.

Quick “How’s your day been? and even quicker “I love you’s”. You missed his nerdy talk about all the latest heroes new moves and how much he still admires All Might, his cuddles and warm hands on your tummy when it was that time of the month.

You missed how he would always try to pick you up from work, clad in a face mask and Dynamight’s new merch. You missed making dinner together. You missed waking up together whenever you two slept together (cause separate beds in relationships is superior convince me otherwise).

He had been on an undercover mission to bring an underground quirk breeding organisation to justice. The fact that those still existed sent shivers down your spine. One time, you had asked him over call what it was like, being so close to all of that.

To which he dodged with, “It’s what heroes are expected to deal with, so don’t worry about it honey.” You probably shouldn’t have asked as all mission information is classified until the news gets their grimy hands on it. But, it still had taken you back that he didn’t want to talk about it.

But, you know that when he gets home, he’ll be tired but he’ll want to talk. And you’ll sit there, looking up to him, reminded of how strong he is and of how hard he works to protect you, to protect all of Japan. Speaking of which, he should be home by now.

Plucking you from your daze is the reporter’s voice shouting into her mic, “Breaking News!” You turn around, seeing her standing in front of Central Hospital on the small television screen.

“Japan’s Number One Pro Hero ‘Deku’ severely injured during quirk breeding rescue mission.” Your mind goes blank. You rush over to the TV, grabbing the remote, turning the volume up, and plonking down on the tan sofa.

You watch as footage comes on screen, showing Deku, outside of what looks to be an on-fire night club, surrounded by several villains in coordinated suits. Dynamight’s explosions can be heard in the back muffling the screams of girls chained and barely clothed who are being taken out of the building, covered in soot and coughing, by Shoto and Ingenium.

You watch intently as the villains lung at your hero. He dodges, expertly, using the intricacies of One For All to knock them unconscious. As gentlemanly as ever, even when he fights.

But it’s not enough. You continue watching, enraptured by the fight, as the reporter continues, “Pro Hero ‘Deku’, along with other heroes like Japan’s Number Two ‘Dynamight’, Number Three ‘Shoto’, and ‘Ingenuim’ have been on an undercover mission investigating quirk breeding auctions in downtown Tokyo’s underground night clubs for the past month. Tonight, things went awry as Dynamight engages, fed up with the secrecy of the mission, dragging the pro heroes into an intense fight with the villains orchestrating this conspiracy.”

“Of course it’s fucking Dynamight,” you mumble under your breath.

Deku’s now taking five villains at once when the left side of the building collapses due to the flames. It had been the entrance, where Shoto and Ingenium had been hauling out what you assume to be the victims of this scheme.

Shoto hands the young girl in his arms to one the firefighters at scene before turning around and yelling to Deku, “There’s still one more left in the building.”

Your hands have begun to shake. The suspense is wracking your nervous system.

“Deku attempts to dash back into the building when the villains he was just fighting jump onto him—”

They drag him to the ground, delivering some serious blows to his torso. The left side of the building further crumbles in on itself.

“Approaching Deku is another villain known to authorities as ‘Bon Appétit’. Quirk is knife.” Bon Appétit’s arms are comprised of different knives and swords, jutting out, sharp and glinting evilly. You cringe and yelp as the villain thrusts the blades into Deku’s left arm.

“Reeling from this blow, Deku uses One For All at what sources suspect to be full capacity, to fend off the villains and rescue the victim inside. Emerging—” The video pauses on a shot of him, girl on his back, left arm bloodied and dangling limply. From what you can see from the awful lighting, shaky cameraman, and torn shreds of Deku’s suit, his flesh is torn and skin (beneath the blood) has gone purple. No! “Deku’s left arm appears to be severely injured.”

The broadcast cuts back to the reporter outside of Central Hospital. There are a flurry of reporters and police surrounding the entrance to the hospital. She stands with her back to them and continues, “Pro Hero Deku was taken to Central Hospital to be treated shortly after 7pm. Our cameras caught—”

A video of an ambulance pulling up to the entrance plays on screen. Once it’s stopped, Deku is ushered out, flanked by paramedics. Dynamight steps out after him, shouting a string of censored curses and insults after broccoli boy in front—

“footage of Pro Hero ‘Deku’ being escorted by ambulance here with Dynamight and Shoto following suit. Love and support is being poured out by fans to Deku and his family tonight for his swift recovery. Hirota Miu, TBS Television.”

You sit there, hunched over, elbows on knees, shell-shocked. You don’t know how much time passes after the broadcast before you hear your phone ringing. You grab it from the low coffee table in front of you, clicking the green phone icon and bringing it to your ear reflexively.

“Miss [l/n], this is Dr Kita from Central Hospital. Deku gave us your details as his emergency contact.” You blink… and blink again. What? “Deku’s been seriously injured in his recent fight. He’s being prepared for emergency surgery on his left arm right now. You’re welcome to come in and visit once he’s out. The procedure should take 60 to 90 minutes. Just come to the front desk and give your information to the receptionists, and they’ll direct you.”

You stare out the window, looking at all the lights sparkling from above and below your apartment. How could everything seem so peaceful right now when your partner, your hero, was going in for emergency surgery?

“Yes I’ll, um, I’ll be right there. Um…”

“Is there anything else, Miss [l/n]?” You stayed quiet for a few seconds, trying to think of what to say.

“No, sorry. I’ll be right there.”

“See you soon then, Miss [l/n].”

You move routinely, going to your bedroom to put on a bra before lacing up some sneakers, throwing on one of Izuku’s hoodies over your t-shirt and mini shorts, and grabbing your bag. You leave your apartment hastily and practically run to the station, taking it to the one closest to Central Hospital.

There are no words to describe how you feel. Your heart is pounding hard in your chest, and not from the exercise. Your skin is crawling with anxiety. Your shirt clings to the sweat dripping down your back, and every so often you wipe your sweat-laced palms on your shorts.

Your thoughts consist of “Is he okay?”, “Why is he going into emergency surgery?”, “That idiot, I told him never to use One For All at 100% because it could lead to some serious damage! He knows that. Why would he risk it?! The blow from that villain was bad enough, why did he have to…?”, and the like. One thought triggers the next, an endless cycle until Central Hospital is towering above your small figure.

You keep it calm and steady as you walk into the lobby. The receptionist greets you and tell her your name and why you’re here. She nods knowingly, not bothering to confirm details and telling you to take the elevator to level 3.

You follow her directions, down the hall and to the left. You’re met with dull blue double doors. The sign above reading ‘Recovery Room’. You push it open, involuntarily inviting numerous stares from doctors, nurses, and recovering patients who are conscious.

A tall, lanky man comes over to you, dressed in slacks and white lab coat. He has a clip board in hand. “I’m Dr Kita. You must be Miss [l/n]. We spoke on the phone.” You nod, trying to gulp down your nerves.

“Mr Midoriya’s surgery will be finished in about,” Dr Kita looks down at his silver watch, “an hour. You’re free to walk around, get some snacks or something. Visiting hours end at 8pm, but I’ll make an exception for you.” He smiles gently at you. You nod and thank him before looking away from him, thinking about how you were going to kill time.

You felt sick to your stomach, knowing that your boyfriend was undergoing surgery at the moment. What else could you possibly think about but that?

“Actually, Dr Kita, I’d like to just wait here.” You look back up at him. He has jet black hair tied neatly into a low bun. His rectangle glasses slip ever-so-slightly down his nose, behind which sleek brown eyes stare at you with a look of understanding.

“You can’t wait in the recovery room but you can wait outside. We’ll call you in once Mr Midoriya’s is out of surgery.”

Your response is a whisper, “Oh… okay.” You look down to your feet, shoulders slumping. Quickly, you pick yourself back up, raising your head back up and asking, “So, I’ll just wait in the corridor?”

Dr Kita nods and says, “That’s fine.”

You turn to leave before realising that you hadn’t even been told what surgery Izuku was undergoing. You turn back around, noticing that Dr Kita hadn’t moved an inch. “What’s his surgery for?”

Long, slender fingers push the glasses back up his hooked nose. He sighs, “Unfortunately, Mr Midoriya’s left arm has suffered trauma beyond repair. The decision was made to amputate part of his arm.” Your mouth falls open. Amputate. His. Left. Arm?

“And who made that decision?” Dr Kita shifts under your piercing gaze. You make a mental note to apologise later for staring daggers into him.

“The trauma surgeon did. He’s in there right now performing the procedure on Mr Midoriya. I understand that this may come as a shock, but he explained to me that it was necessary and urgent to amputate Mr Midoriya’s left arm as the tissues in his forearm and hand were damaged severely. Mr Midoriya was losing too much blood and some bones in the forearm had been shattered. There is too much damage and danger to simply reset the bones and stitch him up. The surgeon’s doing what he can to salvage what’s left of Mr Midoriya’s arm.”

Are you actually hearing this right now? Is this real? Are you actually in the hospital right now, hearing a doctor tell you that Izu-chan’s arm is to be amputated? Did you turn off the curry before leaving? Fuck.

“Do you mean that the whole arm won’t be amputated?” You ask.

“It’s possible that the whole left arm won’t be amputated. The main damage was done at the forearm and elbow.” Dr Kita’s tone was fairly dead-pan. But you’re not thinking about how many patients he must of seen in similar or worse situations, or the worst situations. All you’re thinking about is your boyfriend who might be losing most of his arm right now.

You gulp and say, “I see… Thank you for clarifying. I’ll, um, I’ll go wait outside now.” Dr Kita nods in acknowledgement before you spin on your heel and take your leave.

For the next hour, you pace back and forth, up and down the hallways of level 3. You check your phone every five minutes, making sure that you have enough time for another lap of the level. After one painstaking, anxiety-inducing, palm-sweaty hour, you’re standing outside of the recovery room, waiting to be called in.

You’ve been thinking it over… just how will it be, Izuku without his left arm. He’ll be devastated. He confided in you soon after you two first started dating that one of his biggest fears was pushing his body beyond its’ limits. He wanted to protect people, to be an incredible hero, and he would do anything to achieve that. He was afraid that one day, he would go too far and he wouldn’t be able to come back from that. And then, he wouldn’t be able to protect people anymore. How would he react, knowing that part of that fear had become reality? What would this mean for his hero career? For your relationship?

Even as this new reality dawned on you, not once did you even consider leaving him. How could you? He was the man that you were so deeply in love with. You two were discussing marriage just before he left for that mission. Oh, why did he have to go on that mission?!

He means so much to you. He’s been there for you at some of your hardest times, like when you first moved to Japan to pursue a career at the front of biomedical engineering. Or when the public had found out about you two and had bullied you relentlessly for your quirk due to it’s similarities to All For One’s. It was all the tabloids could talk about for the entire week, before Izuku had released a statement under his agency, clarifying the differences between your quirks and re-affirming his love and trust in you.

He had been the reason that your life in Japan had become so much more inclusive, joyful, and prosperous. Hell, he had even taught you Japanese at the beginning of your relationship, and continues to help you whenever there’s an expression or word that you don’t understand.

That All Might otaku has been there for you through everything. If that had been you. If you had lost your arm. He wouldn’t even consider the possibility of breaking up with you. How could you?

“Miss [l/n].” You’re brought out of your thoughts, seeing one of the nurses peaking out from behind the recovery room doors. It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for. “He’s out.”

You rush over to her, entering when she pushes the door open for you and thanking her. And then, you spot ruffled deep green curls crowding a peaceful looking face. He’s still asleep. You let out a breath.

You follow the nurse over to the side of his bed, where you notice some other doctors in slacks. Dr Kita comes over almost immediately after you do. You’re by Izuku’s side, watching him. Speechless. About half of his left upper arm remains, wrapped beneath bandages with a stocking and drainage tubes attached. You can feel the tears starting come on. You tilt your head back, blinking rapidly. Not now! Not yet.

You look back down. The medical staff are talking in medical gibberish, so you focus on your pookie. It’s not that you can’t understand medical jargon. Being a biomedical engineer, you often work with such terminology. You’d just rather not right now. Not when Izu looks like an angel that’s fallen from the heavens as he sleeps. He’s got little cuts on his face that have been cleaned and had betadine dabbed onto them. His other arm has a cannula in it. It too is scarred and has other minor cuts that have also been cleaned up.

You sit on the side of his bed, waiting patiently for him to wake up. After a few minutes, his eyelids begin to flutter and soon, he opens his beautiful green eyes. You draw in a breath, taking in the dazed look on his face as he looks around and starts to move his head from side to side.

“Mr Midoriya,” Dr Kita says. His voice is calm and steady. It stops you from leaning over to cup Izu’s cheeks. For now anyways.

“Mr Midoriya, can you hear me?” Izuku groans in response, he begins lifting his right hand to touch his face when the nurse beside him gently grabs it mid-air and brings it back down the bed.

“Try to not to move too much, Mr Midoriya," Dr Kita says.

“Ugh,” he groans, his voice hoarse. “What happened?” Dr Kita holds up two of his fingers in front of Izuku’s face.

“Mr Midoriya, how many fingers am I holding up?”

Izu grumbles, “Two.”

“Good. How are you feeling? Are you experiencing any dizziness or nausea?” Izuku shuts his eyes, his brows creased. He hums in response, "Both."

You can’t stop yourself from calling his name this time. “Izu-chan.” His eyes open immediately and he looks down at you from the slightly raised bedhead. He squints, murmuring with uncertainty at first, “[Y/n]?”

You bite the side of your lip, shifting closer to him, “Yea.”

“You’re here, babe.” His voice is still raspy.

You hum in agreement, “Of course, I’m here. You okay?”

He chuckles softly, “Mhmm I—”

Fuck. He goes to move his left hand, presumably up to his face again. He usually rubs the back of neck when gets nervous. But no hand moves. Because there’s no hand to move. You watch, lump in your throat, as he winces, letting out a groan of pain. Your eyes move with his, to the empty space that was the rest of his left arm. He looks back up at you, before turning his gaze to the doctors and nurses watching him cautiously.

“I-I don’t… I don’t understand. Am I?” He tries to move his left hand again but lets out another groan. “I-No, this can’t. I—”

“Mr Midoriya,” Dr Kita cuts him off. “Yes, we had to amputate most of your left arm. You had experienced trauma beyond repair to your left forearm and elbow from a combination of severe wounds and the use of One For All at what we suspect to be full capacity. The surgeon decided that this was for the best.”

It’s like you can hear his heart shattering into a million pieces. It shatters alongside your own. The look of pain, of sheer, tortuous, anguish across his face hearing those words, you can’t hold back your tears any longer.

You sniffle quietly as they roll down your cheeks. “Sorry,” you murmur, voice heavy with sadness. You mentally berate yourself for crying, drawing the attention to yourself when it’s not your moment. But, you can’t help it. All you want to do is give your boyfriend cuddles and tell him everything is going to be okay. That you’re going to make it through this together. But all you can do is sit there and start quietly sobbing.

“Honey.” You look up through your tears and fingers trying to wipe them away. He looks like he’s about to start crying too.

Izuku shifts his gaze from you to the doctors. “Can you give us a moment?”

“Mr Midoriya, we need to some che—”

“I’m happy to do whatever checks you want. Please, just give us some space first?”

The doctors look amongst each other, communicating in an unspoken code before taking their leave. You let out a shaky breath, looking at your boyfriend lying beside you.

“Hey," he says, his voice cracking. You both laugh. You lean forward, cupping his cheeks in your hands. His right hand grasps your lower back softly.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle.

“For what? It’s not your fault.” He looks at you with a gentle gaze, just as gentle as his touch.

“I know but I—” you choke on your sobs.

“Hey, it’s alright.” His hand pressures you to move forward so you can lay on his chest. But you don’t. You look up into those glassy green eyes.

“I can’t," you say, your voice tight. One of your hand goes to his chest. “You’re in pain," you continue, shaking your head.

His brows knit together at this, “I-It doesn’t hurt there.” You pause before you nod knowingly.

You too can’t help but want to be close to him like this. You lay your head on his chest with care, hands close to yourself. His right hand strokes the top of your head, scarred fingers threading through your silky [h/c] locks.

You tilt your head back, looking up at him. “You don’t have to pretend it’s okay. I-I know it’s not okay.” You plant a shaky small kiss on his jaw. His hand cups your shoulder.

“Yea,” his voice trembles. “I…” You can feel his chest vibrate with the emotions rising to the surface. You hear him sniffle, and soon, you two just lay there, crying together. One of the nurses brings over a tissue box which you two drain, wiping tears away and blowing noses. No words can articulate the kind of moment you two share.

It’s only when you two have calmed down that you lift yourself up from his chest. You cup his cheek in your right palm and murmur, “You hungry? D’you want some water?” He shakes his head, sniffling up those last tears. You dab his under eyes with the ruined tissue in your other hand.

“I was m-making—” You stop to inhale and exhale a deep breath before continuing, “tofu curry when they called me.” ‘Your favourite’ you leave unspoken.

“Can you b-bring me some?” He pouts. You nod your head ‘yes’, chuckling softly as you look down, “I will but, I don’t think they’ll let me back in if I leave now. Visiting hours are over.” Izuku nods, gulping down those straggler tears.

“I think I might have left it on, so I’ll bring some tomorrow, okay?” He nods again, bringing his right hand to your cheek, thumb gently caressing the delicate skin below your eyes.

“Mr Midoriya, Miss [l/n]. Do you mind if we continue with the general check-up?” You both look at each other before looking back at Dr Kita.

“Of course,” you reply as you move away from Izuku and stand up next to his bed. “Do I have to go now or?”

Dr Kita looks up from his clipboard, “We’ve given you special clearance for tonight. In future, you’ll have to abide by visiting hours.” He’s moved from the foot of the bed to the left side, a distance away from you.

“Visiting hours are from 10am to 8pm. I would advise leaving soon if you’re catching the train back to your apartment. I’m sure you know that it’s not very safe walking around alone at night.” You hum in response.

You look back at Izuku who shakes his head in agreement. He sniffles, “I-I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” You nod, moving closer and leaning over him, placing a small kiss on his lips. Your first in a month. It’s brief but sweet. Just enough to keep you going until tomorrow.

“Stay strong for me, okay?” You say. Izuku smiles back at you.

You pull back and turn towards Dr Kita, “Thank you for all of your help, doctor. I’ll be back here tomorrow. Should I just ask at reception?”

He hums in response and says, "See you tomorrow, Miss [l/n].” You walk past Dr Kita, turning around once your approaching the doors, locking eyes with your Izu before leaving the recovery room.

The trip home is filled with replays of all that had just happened. When you got back, you found that luckily, you had in fact turned the curry off. You turn it back on, following the recipe in your mind to finish it off. Dinner, packing leftovers, dishes, all go by mindlessly. You’re still stuck in a daze by the time you sit in your plush chair in the corner of your room, pulling at your journal. It’s time to talk about it.

these are the links that I used to write this story:

https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/10iiud/amputees_of_reddit_what_was_it_like_to_lose_a/

https://www.quora.com/What-is-it-like-to-lose-a-limb-in-an-accident-and-how-did-you-handle-the-emergency

https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/psychology/cyborg#:~:text=Initially%2C%20a%20cyborg%20was%20described,to%20compensate%20for%20some%20disabilities

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyborg_(DC_Comics)#:~:text=transform%20the%20city.-,Powers%20and%20abilities,speed%2C%20stamina%2C%20and%20flight

https://www.fairviewrehab.com/nursing-care/care-after-amputation/

https://www.cancercouncil.com.au/cancer-information/cancer-treatment/surgery/recovery/hospital-recovery-room/

https://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/definition-amputation

https://my-hero-academia-fanon.fandom.com/wiki/Cybernetic_Arms

https://newsinhealth.nih.gov/2018/08/bionic-movements#:~:text=The%20bionic%20hand%20sends%20signals,hand%20is%20closing%20or%20opening

mission prep

keigo takami x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — nfsw, smut, consensual filming, oral fem!receiving, p in v, was meant to be a short drabble, 3.2k words

inspired by 'something new' by @ kurooh but i think they blocked me cause i liked too many of their posts?? i'm a fast reader okay. gotta give credit where credit is due

keigo’s going away for a month on a mission for work so he asks you to film a little video with him before he leaves; something he can watch every day and never tire of. you agree immediately, happy for him to keep your most vulnerable moments locked away on his phone for his pretty eyes only.

he sets up his phone at your bedside and tells you to sit on the bed while he finds that perfect angle. you obey, sitting with your knees bent and calves to the back of your thighs. you watch him curiously and nervously. you trust keigo not to share the video with anyone. it would be your secret.

the thin, white tank you are wearing does nothing to hide how hard your nipples are. the little peaks jut out a little too obviously. you gnaw on the side of your lip as your boyfriend tells you he’s started recording. you nod and smirk, your eyes looking up at him as he comes over to you. with a creak, he kneels on the bed and cups your cheek with his large hand.

you’re pulled into a gentle kiss. the sweet feeling of kei’s lips against yours and the brush of his tongue makes you moan and grin wider. your hand grasps his forearm as his other arm wraps around your waist and pulls you into his chest. you softly moan his name.

huge, crimson wings unfurl as keigo’s lips sear your jaw and neck. you tug gently at his roots, making him groan and gaze up at you. he catches your lips in another tender kiss before returning to your neck. he peppers the delicate skin with bites and licks and pecks. he then suckles at the junction of your neck and shoulder, leaving a pretty red mark there.

you keep one arm around his shoulders to steady yourself while your other hand trails down his pecs and abs. you mewl at the feeling of his teeth on your collarbone and how solid he is against you. your flesh is so pliable, so full and plump. keigo’s hands squeeze your sides as he pushes your tank up and over your breasts.

those golden eyes ensnare yours for a moment before his mouth is all over the soft mounds. he’s ever the gentleman when it comes to your breasts, giving them tender kisses and only little nips if he feels like it. his mouth is like a furnace as it takes in one of your nipples. the sheer heat makes your back arch and your head tilt back. he sucks on the hard nub, and his doe eyes watch as you lick and bite your lips. he pulls off from your nipple with a pop! before rolling his tongue over it.

his hands palm the flesh and bone just beneath your breasts as he moves to pleasure your other breast. your head tilts down, and your hands find their place back in his hair. with a whimper, you notice how his wings twitch. how they stretch and then quickly draw back in, over and over again. you moan out his name as he sucks on your nipple.

whining, you pull off your bunched-up tank and throw it to the side. your eyes flicker to keigo’s phone. you can see your reflection; the lewd heat in your cheeks and the compromising position you’re in. you look away, thoroughly embarrassed, and instead, focus on how good keigo’s making you feel.

his ministrations are sending liquid warmth to pool in the pit of your stomach and your panties. you can feel their stickiness clinging to your slicked-up cunt. kei’s hand presses into your lower back as he pushes you back slightly. his other hand runs over your clothed, soaking pussy, causing you to whine and moan.

“fuck,” he groans low. he looks up at you with those sunshine eyes. “so wet for me, dove,” he teases. you nod enthusiastically as you chomp on the side of your lips.

you whine, “keiiii.” your hands grip his compression shirt. you pout as you demand him to take it off. he chuckles at how whiney you’ve become in such a short amount of time. he removes his hands from you, hops off the bed, and takes his shirt off as quickly as possible. you grab his hands and pull him back to you, mewling. he leans down and gives you a passionate kiss before shifting to the side and sitting beside you.

he mimics your kneeling posture, and you turn to face him fully. as you kiss, your hands roam each other’s bodies. he squeezes your tits before going back to rubbing you through your micro-shorts. your back arches as he applies palms your heat just right. you sigh into his mouth as your hands feel up his toned muscles.

at this point, his beautiful wings are completely stretched out. he moans into your lips as your hands caress his cock through his sweatpants. you grin into the kiss upon feeling how hard he is for you. you softly bite his bottom lip as your hand slips past his waistband. his groan has you tensing your thighs and eager to clamp them shut. his fingers wrap around the top of your shorts and he yanks them towards him. the pull sends your hips jerking forward.

you squeal as he leans over you, your legs now uncurled and lying on his meaty thighs. he takes off your shorts and then your panties; a string of slick that connects the ruined lace with your pussy snaps. you moan as you spread your legs open for him. the chill of the air makes you shiver; your nipples become impossibly stiffer.

he gazes down at you with lustful eyes and a lazy grin. his rough hands run up and down your inner thighs. their texture makes your hips buck and folds twitch. his smile grows wider at the effect he has on you. he leans down, fingers tucking strands of your hair behind your ear and lips brushing against it.

he whispers, “such a pretty girl, aren’t you chickpea?” you nod, whining. he pulls away but you catch his face with your hands. you pull him down to your lips and give him a sweet peck. he shifts down and comes eye-to-eye with your sopping cunt. his hands grip your knees and place them over his shoulders. he kisses up along your delicate inner thighs, occasionally biting or sucking on the flesh with care.

your hips buck. you’re desperate for any kind of friction against your depraved pussy. keigo’s hands grab your hips and force them down onto the bed. you look down at him and see a wide grin plastered across his face.

he coos, “so desperate for me, huh?” you whine in response. he continues, “want me to eat out this pussy?” you can feel his hot breath fanning your glistening cunt. you nod frenziedly.

“come on, dove. i wanna hear you say it,” he teases. you whimper as you stare at him. and finally, you relent.

“kei,” you breath out. “i want you to eat out my pussy.” he chuckles at how pathetic you sound. he presses his arm down on your hips while his hand hovers before your heat. two of his fingers ghost over your tender folds. the slightest drag. your back arches as you moan.

with your head thrown back, you cry out, “please, kei! please eat my pussy!” he laughs at how needy you are as he repeats the movement, this time, applying a bit more pressure. his fingertips are already soaked with your arousal as he pulls his hand back. finally, he drags his fingers through your lips the way you’ve been aching for him too. he cusses beneath his breath at just how fucking wet and swollen you are for him.

he groans, “fuck, dove. had no idea you were so soaked.” you might just cry from how badly you want his mouth on you already and his fingers buried deep inside of you.

“keigo please!” you beg. “please, baby, please! i need your tongue, baby.” he spits on your pussy although he really doesn’t need to, causing you to moan loudly and desperately. his fingers spread the spit through your folds. the sounds of your whimpers and mewls and moans are heavenly to him. something melodic; birdsong.

at fucking last, his hot tongue dips between your dripping lips. you can’t stop moaning at how good it feels, how expertly his tongue rolls around your clit before he sucks on it. you tremble as his tongue pushes into your sopping hole.

soon, he’s fucking two fingers into you as he sucks on your clit, hitting your g-spot every time. his arm has moved, so his hand presses down on your lower stomach. your legs shake as the pleasure builds, your orgasm mounting. you’ve become a moaning mess. you chant his name as he keeps his fingers knuckle-deep in your pussy, only curling them now. your chanting becomes louder.

you whimper, “kei. kei, i’m gonna cum. i—” you interrupt yourself with a piercing moan. he sucks harshly on your clit, fingers curling faster and hand pressing down harder. your chants become shouts as you teeter on the edge of your climax.

you scream out as your body shakes and trembles. he doesn’t stop as you squirt all over him, eating out your pussy even harder. your thighs clamp tight around his head, legs raised in the air. your back is arched so perfectly as you moan and call out his name.

as your sounds become quieter and your trembling slows, he gradually stops. he gives your clit a peck before sitting up. he spreads your legs and forces them back down beside him. his two soaking fingers come up and force themselves into your mouth. with a loud moan, you suck on them, your hand latched onto his wrist. you watch with glassy eyes as he licks his lips and wipes his face with his hand.

“fuckin’ hell, chickpea,” he chuckles. he draws his fingers out of your mouth and tells you what a good girl you are. you moan and tug him down to you. he flips the two of you over so you lay on his chest, and for a few moments, you catch your breath. you nuzzle his neck with your nose as your lips kiss his earlobe.

you whisper, “that felt so good, baby.”

he squeezes your shoulder as he teases you, “i can tell.” you playfully slap his chest and pout. he looks down at you and smirks, which turns into a laugh upon seeing your serious look. his warm laughter coaxes your own, and soon, you’re shifting so that you’re on top of him. you straddle his hips, wet pussy against his rock-hard erection. your chest is pressed to his as you groan. you share deep, romantic kisses as you wrap your arms around each other. you begin grinding on his cock, making you both moan into each other’s mouths.

you pull away from his lips and sit upright, grinding your hips down even harder on his pulsing cock. you lift your hips off him a couple of times to readjust, making sure he’s right between your folds. he’s groaning beneath you, his hands on your thighs and slowly climbing up to your ass.

you moan and then giggle, “you like that, baby?” you moan loud as you press your clit against his tip. your hands are planted firmly on his pecs as you coo, “come on, dove.” you lean down, your lips at his ear as you continue, “i wanna hear you say it.” he throws his head back with a grunt at your insufferable teasing, only adding to how cocky you feel.

his cock twitches between pussy, and you suck on his earlobe before sitting back. you raise your hips and grab his cock, jerking him hard a few times. you look into those half-lidded golden eyes as you poke your entrance with the head of his cock. the slightest dip in has his pretty eyes rolling back and wings spasming. you push him deeper inside and sink your hips. he bottoms out, his heavy balls pressing against your ass as you sit down. a moan escapes your lips.

you rest your arms by your sides as you begin rocking your hips. you keep your movements slow as you clench tightly around his cock. a few seconds in, and keigo’s already seeing stars from how good your cunt feels. his hands squeeze your ass, and you continue to buck up and down at a painful pace. you toss your head back, hands grabbing your breasts as you moan his name. he swears as he catches a glimpse of your beautiful body.

he groans, “don’t tease me, dove.” you giggle, but it quickly turns into a moan. your skin slaps against his deliciously as you ride him a little harder, but still slowly of course. you both moan at the sensation.

keigo’s contemplating between begging you to fuck him harder or grabbing you so he can fuck you harder. he knows how much you enjoy riding him, even if you’re a little minx as you do so. he gives you a chance.

“faster, dove. you know-how i like it,” he grunts out after a particularly tight clench of your walls. you moan as his balls hit your ass.

you grin wide as you tease, “i thought this was how you liked it.” your boyfriend sits up slightly so he can wrap his arm around your waist. as he lays back down, he draws you down with him. your nipples brush his pecs. his cheeks are rosy and his eyes hazy with lust as he looks up at you.

“come on, sweetpea. come on,” kei murmurs. his low voice has arousal gushing from your hole, further drenching his cock. he smirks, feeling how much wetter he’s making you. you whine as he fucks his cock into you, hips meeting yours. you gasp as both of his bands push you down and pull you up, making you ride him at his pace.

you lay down on his chest as his knees bend, and he does all the work. the squelching sounds of your sex fill the room, alongside the endless slew of filthy sounds leaving your mouths. you want to tell kei off for not letting you ride him for longer, but it’s impossible to keep air in your lungs from his brutal pace.

somehow finding your strength, you push off his chest and push your hips back into him. his pace never falters, and you keep your hands on his chest, face close to his as you try your best to match it. you’re both coated in sweat as that familiar heat pools in your pussy.

grunting, keigo suddenly stops and rolls you over. he manoeuvres you so your thighs are against his chest and he’s on his haunches. he leans down, pressing your knees to the sides of your chest as he starts fucking you again. you moan uncontrollably. your back arches, pressing your tits to his chest, and your arms wrap around his upper back.

you get first-class access to every single whimper and groan that falls from keigo’s mouth. his head is buried into your neck as his hips snap and roll. the sensation of his cock ploughing into you so deeply, so perfectly every single fucking time has you shouting out random bits of sentences in ecstasy.

mindlessly, you rub the space between his shoulder blades and down his spine, and occasionally, your hand glides over his soft feathers. keigo fucks you even harder and moans even louder into your ear as you continue rubbing his back. his wings stretch behind him and he whines. such a simple movement has pleasure rising within him tenfold.

he whimpers low, “dove. fuck, please. don’t-don’t stop.” you moan loudly in response as your other hand rubs the back of his neck. his thrusts become sloppier as he nears his end.

you whine, “kei-kei i’m s-so fucking close.” your words of encouragement spur him on. newfound vitality sends his hips driving into yours at an unprecedented pace. you feel surrounded by him. his cock, his sounds, his body; he overwhelms you and edges you closer and closer.

his voice is thick with emotion as he pleads, “please, dove. l-let me fill you-up.”

you’re too fucked out to do more than whimper “yes” into his ear. and then, you’re cumming. your orgasm crashes down on you, causing you to clamp your cunt around him so so fucking tight. you scream and cry out, body convulsing beneath his. your pleasure is only added to when you feel his cock twitching and his seed shoot out into you. the heat of it sears your insides in the best possible way.

keigo’s wings wrap around you protectively as he orgasms. tears well in his eyes and he cries out, grunting and groaning into your sweat and spit-soaked neck. you ride out your high together, hips rocking back and forth until you both can no longer move.

your boyfriend lies on top of you, but he does his best to hold up his weight so as not to crush you. your hands tangle in his messy locks as you pull his head back. you catch sight of how his eyes shine with tears, and there are little streams down his cheeks. you pout and wipe his eyes, asking him if he’s okay. he nods and buries his head in the other side of your neck.

you take refuge in each other, whispering sweet nothings to one another and laying in silence until you’re both ready to get cleaned up.

kei helps you sit up and peppers your face with soft kisses, causing you to giggle. you grin as you place your hands on either side of his head and tell him how much you love him. he chuckles and pulls you in close. he groans an “i love you too” into your lips before getting up and grabbing his phone.

you sigh exhaustedly, “ is it still recording?” he hums in response as he clicks the stop button and leaves his phone on the table. he comes back over to you and picks you up bridal-style. he coos softly that he’ll get the shower running.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

hawks forces open the door to his dingy, undercover apartment. he closes it with a thud and shakes off his boots. with a sigh, he takes off his jacket and walks over to the window overlooking the dark streets below. he pulls the curtains shut and plops down on the couch.

the pro hero is absolutely exhausted from these past three weeks. pretending to be someone he’s not (even more so than usual) has zapped the energy out of him. right now, he needs to relax. he pulls out his phone and taps on the notification from ‘chickpea’. he clicks on the photo you sent him earlier that day of you baking bread and texts you back about a bun in the oven. jokingly, of course. chuckling to himself, he flicks the chat away. it’s past 2am, he knows better than to expect a message from his angel.

tapping his foot on the ground, he hesitantly opens his photo gallery. scrolling up, he finds the video he’s looking for. he presses play and feasts his eyes upon your sweet, innocent smile as you wait on the bed for him. he groans, remembering how good your sex was just a few weeks ago. he watches himself walk into frame and begin kissing you. the sight of your erect nipples and the sloppy sounds of your kisses have him growing harder by the second.

he’s damn glad he recorded that video.

you ate so hard with this!!! thank you for your struggles i love it🥹🥹🥹

hey dolly, idk if you're still doing the moodboards reqs but is it okay if i still request one???🫣

i love denki ahhhh. like muscle mommy gentle femdom + denki arf arf arf. colour scheme like pink n red or yellow. whatever fits idm.

no specific fic inspo, he just calls you mommy and you make him beg for it😁.

i loved your other moodboards omg!! you really ate with the touya moodboard on your original post. mwah thank you!

awe thank u!! pink + red it is, hope its okai c:

making moodboards for u!!

istg if i read another smut where the reader is referred to as a 'cumdump' i'm gonna lose my marbles.

fanfic authors, wtf? i've never heard of anything less sexy than a fictional man referring to me as a 'cumdump'.

worst one yet has to be the 'cumrag'. i should just refer to myself as a 'cumcan' (formerly, trash can) or 'creampit' from now on. even those sound better than 'cumdump' ffs.

i know some people like degradation, and if you enjoy being referred to as a 'cumdump' then be my guest. but, why is it that when a man is supposed to be mean to his female sexual partner, we gotta start using the most outrageous terms like those aforementioned.

'my little slut' is great. it's functional. we get the picture. i don't see the need for innovation.

it's like referring to eyes as 'orbs' or 'irises'. or dicks as 'meat sticks' or 'firm virile sausages'. you're welcome to get creative with your derogatory terms, but please don't.