Britt's Academia

That's what the news and public said, and you supposed that yeah, they all had a very valid point. It was the truth.

You blinked, looking down at that very man — that very danger to society. Your lips twitched, threatening to break out into a sadistic grin. Your stomach fluttered with excitement because, at the moment, Dabi was none of those things.

Straddling his thighs as he laid on your bed, you never broke his gaze, remaining nonchalant as those pretty cerulean eyes of his narrowed at you with pure anger. You were sure that, should he have the capability of speaking, he'd be spouting some colourful words to express his disdain.

The dark room was illuminated by a hue of (colour) that emitted from your body due to your quirk. The abstract markings adorning your arms glowed, signalling the activation of your quirk, as did your eyes. You knew you lacked pupils at the moment — an aesthetic side effect — and it made you feel like some sort of divinity.

Disembodied, ghost-like hands of the same, faint colour held Dabi by the wrists, pining them above his head. You wouldn't even allow him full control of his legs as another pair of hands held them down; you didn't want to give him the opportunity to squirm much, after all.

And you figured that, since you could produce and control six hands at a time, why not clamp one down on his mouth? Shut him up, for once. It had been your initial goal, but it had escalated.

What had you been arguing about prior to this? You couldn't even quite remember, but that wasn't your preoccupation at the moment. All you could focus on was just how fucking turned on you were at the thought of having full control for once.

His words came out as inaudible, muffled grunts. You tilted your head, fingers tapping at your chin in mock contemplation.

"I dunno, babe. You look right at home down there," you said, voice nothing short of condescending. "If I had known that you'd look this pretty, shit, I woulda done this much sooner."

Of course, you got no coherent response, only sounds resonating from deep within his chest.

"Great. I'm glad we finally agree on something," you said, nodding as you pretended to have a normal conversation.

Dabi's stare hardened — obvious disagreement.

You raised a brow as you watched the hands holding him down glow brighter before dimming once more, signalling his attempt at using his own quirk. The sad display beneath you made you laugh.

"Babe, c'mon. Seriously? You know your quirk won't work while mine is latched onto you," you said before shrugging and making a vague hand gesture. "But by all means, go ahead and feed me more strength. It makes things even more fun."

A sixth hand materialized, slipping beneath his shirt and slithering its way up his torso. It reached his face, tenderly cupping his cheek before offering a few patronizing smacks. They weren't rough, by any means, but they had their desired effect of making Dabi's eyes glimmer with violence.

"Okay, okay," you nodded, mostly to yourself. "I think I'll let you speak a little."

You removed the hand that had been latched to his mouth, sliding it down his neck where you could feel his racing pulse; he was into it, but over his dead body he'd admit it.

Now able to speak, Dabi didn't skip a beat. "What the fuck?" He spoke the words slowly, drawing out every syllable with a low tone in a show of frustration.

"What?" You sneered. "I thought you got off when I'm pissed, so what gives, huh? Can't handle it now that I'm the one who's decided to put you in your place?"

"My place, huh?" He chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head. "Wanna try that again, sweetheart?"

"I'm sorry, I guess I should speak more clearly," you said, placing yourself atop the growing bulge in his jeans. You leaned forward, pressing your chest against his as your lips inched closer to his ear. "Your rightful place as a little bottom bitch."

"Fuck y— hmph."

Dabi didn't get to finish his sentence as you slipped cold fingers into his mouth, nearly hitting the back of his throat. Although the hand wasn't attached to your body, you could still feel the wet, slimy texture of his tongue.

"You can bitch all you want, Dabi, but we both know you're enjoying this as much as I am," you said, sitting straight before rolling your hips against his for emphasis.

You could have sworn that you saw his eye twitch, and you weren't quite sure if it was from arousal or anger. It was then that you softened in the slightest, sliding your hands — your real ones — up and down his sides soothingly as you removed the fingers from his mouth.

"... You know you can tell me to stop, right?" You said, making it clear that, although you were mad at him, you weren't there to make him uncomfortable either.

Dabi looked you in the eye, brows still firmly furrowed, as he held your gaze before casting a glance to the side. It was as if he were ashamed of his predicament and the conflicting feelings swirling inside of him. His mind screamed at him that this new territory wasn't for him, that he'd much rather have you all bent over for him to take his frustration out on your cunt. On the other hand, however, his cock said the opposite, nearly begging him to give in and see where this would go.

Fuck, he'd be a liar if he said that you looked anything but hot at the moment.

Eventually, he settled on his classic, shit-eating smirk. "Fine. Go ahead and have your little power trip. Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause you know damn well what I'm gonna do to you when this is over."

"I think you're a little confused there. You should be more concerned with what I'm going to do to you," you said with a tilt of your head. "If, for whatever reason, you can't talk, try using your quirk if you want to stop. I'll notice."

“You're being awfully soft for someone who claims to be pissed with me," he said, still being a nuisance. You wondered if it was just Dabi being himself, or if he was being a brat as part of his play. Both, probably.

You smiled; it lacked any warmth, only holding a warning. "Don't worry. I won't be playing soft for too long."

Not being able to move his arms, Dabi gestured with his head, sneering. "Then impress me, sweetheart."

You chuckled. Poor thing didn't know what you had in mind for him, now that you had the green light for full control. That bratty attitude of his? It'd be gone. His pride? Shattered. His mind? So fucking broken.

Ghostly hands that had made their way down to the hem of his shirt, teasingly fiddling with the fabric, now had a firm grasp as they began to lift the clothing up above his head before disappearing into thin air. You made sure to relish in every bit of skin — every purple patch and glistening staple — that was revealed to you. Your gaze was piercing, unwavering and studious, but no less appreciative; it made Dabi swallow hard.

You leaned forward again, lips hovering over his. "I don't think you'll be disappointed."

In an attempt to salvage any remnants of control he had, Dabi pressed his lips to yours in a hard, passionate kiss that took both your breaths away. You allowed his tongue to flick against yours before he licked at the roof of your mouth, offering a pleasant tickling sensation that travelled down between your legs.

As much as you enjoyed his tongue inside your mouth, you had enough of this. You wouldn't allow him to think he had an edge over you, and so, as he attempted to slip his tongue deeper into your mouth, you pulled away, closing your lips around his tongue. You sucked at the muscle as you backed away, and you heard a frustrated grunt escape Dabi as you did so.

You smirked and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. You edged closer to his ear, making sure to barely brush your lips against the skin of his face as you made your way up there. You were sure that he could feel the way you grinned, unable to hide your excitement from the sudden rush of power traversing your body.

Your tongue dragged along his earlobe, pulling a deep sigh from Dabi. Kissing down his cheeks to his jawbone, you made your way to his neck, and you slowly licked down his pulse point, leaving a glistening trail of saliva in your wake before sinking your teeth into the junction between his neck and shoulder. You nicked his collarbone — a sensitive area of his — with your tongue closely following to soothe the little marks you left across his body. Beneath you, Dabi's hips shifted, cock jumping at the attention. You could feel the way his thighs tensed, and you just knew that every fibre of his being wanted to pin you down.

But he was powerless — powerless against you, an ordinary civilian — and fuck, seeing someone like Dabi being reduced to something so pathetic was a work of art that you were dying to immortalize.

"You're lucky I'm letting you do this," Dabi grumbled.

"Mhm," you hummed, barely acknowledging his words. All bark, no bite. Not that he could bite at the moment.

And a ghost hand was back to his mouth, silencing him. You felt his warm tongue licking into the palm of the hand — a feeble attempt at deterring you. You quickly glanced up and seeing his eyes full of annoyance, accompanied by unmistakable lust that he so desperately tried to hide, made you laugh. How he could still uphold that look, you didn't know, but you were going to make that petty little glare of his falter.

You gripped the hem of your oversized t-shirt — his shirt — and slowly, very agonizingly slowly pulled it up towards your chest, exposing your near-bare lower body as you only wore lacy underwear. Dabi's eyes immediately fell to your hips, intently glaring at the way your cunt rested so snugly atop his cock. Expectantly, Dabi's eyes wandered to your chest, waiting for your breasts to grace his view, but you wouldn't grant him that satisfaction quite yet. Your expression held cockiness as you took the shirt's hem between your teeth, not fully pulling it over your chest. Instead, from where he laid, Dabi was offered a tantalizing view of the under curvature of your breasts.

As you slid your hands down your body, teasingly pulling at the band of your panties though not removing them, you found amusement in the way Dabi's expression had been breaking as the seconds ticked by. Though anger still remained, it was faltering; it was as if there was an intense battle between anger and burning desire, and the latter was winning little by little.

Slowly, you began rutting your hips against him, moaning as your clit slid against Dabi's erection. With the right amount of pressure, jolts of pleasure shot through your veins that fuelled your arousal, even through the layers of clothing. You could feel Dabi attempt to rise his hips further against you, but your quirk held him down.

If you focused enough, you could make out the way Dabi muttered curses underneath his makeshift gag. His chest began to heave shakily, and his eyes grew heavier from lust as they zeroed in on the rocking of your hips. He watched the way the dangling, blue heart piercing on your navel gently swayed in time with your movements — a gift he had gotten for you last month.

A particularly hard thrust had Dabi grunting. His cock pulsed underneath his jeans and boxers; it was uncomfortable, and he was dying for a shred of relief, but judging by the predatory shine in your irises, Dabi knew he wouldn't be graced with his wishes.

Your shirt was still wedged between your teeth, fabric wet with your saliva. Then, you stilled, abruptly stopping your ruts as you slipped your panties to the side, giving Dabi a slight peek at your slick cunt as you made a show of stroking your lips before spreading them. He wanted to touch you, you knew he did, but you wouldn't let him.

You'd let him watch, though.

Your fingers slid through your lips, and as you brushed against your entrance, you dipped two fingers inside of you, gathering arousal across your digits which you dragged up to your clit. Your moans, although somewhat muffled by your shirt, went straight to Dabi's dick as you slowly stroked your clit up and down. His breathing grew heavier as he remained bound and unable to touch you. The wet shine coating your fingers was beyond enticing to him, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

You pulled your fingers away from your pussy, letting your shirt fall back down. Now covered up, Dabi's trance seemingly broke, and he was narrowing his eyes at you once again.

You made the hand covering his mouth disappear, allowing him to speak, but before he could do so, you leaned down, gripping at his jaw to keep him in place as you brought your wet fingers to his mouth.

"Come on, babe," you prompted.

Dabi said nothing, only shifting his gaze between your face and fingers before reluctantly opening his mouth, allowing you to dip your fingers inside. He couldn't help the grunt as your taste hit his tongue; he savoured it. He closed his lips around your digits as you began thrusting them gently.

You licked your lips before parting them in a breathy exhalation as your cunt clenched at the sight beneath you. "Hollow your cheeks, hon."

When he didn't immediately comply, you roughly hit the back of his throat, making his body jump as he gagged rather loudly. His strong reaction made you coo condescendingly, and you were sure that, should he have been capable of producing tears, his eyes would be watering. Would it make you a shit person for saying that you wished you could see him cry in this context? Maybe, but you didn't really care.

"I won't ask again, Dabi," you said.

It was fucking humiliating, but Dabi eventually caved and did as you asked, hollowing his cheeks around your fingers, effectively creating more suction.

You groaned at the sight. "Fuck yeah. That's it."

You thrust your fingers a bit faster, occasionally hitting the back of his throat — though not as roughly as the first time — as you desperately wanted to hear him make those lovely gagging noises again.

"That's it, bitch," you said. "God, wouldn't you look pretty sucking on a cock?"

His eyes hardened at the degrading nickname, feeling beyond humiliated as a growl reverberated from deep within his chest.

Eventually, you pulled your fingers out of his mouth, which were heavily coated with his saliva. Dabi panted, attempting to catch his breath.

"Screw you. Fuck you," Dabi hissed at you.

"So vulgar..." you mused.

You gripped at his face, pressing onto his cheeks. "Open your mouth," you commanded.

He stubbornly gritted his teeth, attempting to turn his head away from you in defiance. You huffed, unappreciative of this bratty attitude of his. You tenderly cupped his cheek, tracing the seam of his marred skin with your fingertips in faux sympathy before giving him a nice smack. It wasn't hard enough to harm him, but enough to leave a red blotch on his healthy skin.

What you didn't expect was the damn-near pornographic moan that escaped him upon impact, pupils blown wide with want.

Freak.

"Open your fucking mouth," you repeated.

He did, and when you leaned over his mouth, lining up yours with his, Dabi had a feeling that he knew where you were going with this; he had done it to you before. Payback's a bitch, he supposed.

You let your saliva drop into his mouth, and you were satisfied to see you didn't even need to tell him to swallow. He did so immediately, making a show of gulping audibly.

"Good boy," you said, rubbing the mark on his cheek. "Say thank you."

"... Thank you," he muttered gruffly, cringing as he said it; the words sounded as though they had physically hurt him to say.

You nodded approvingly and appreciatively. Perhaps he was beginning to submit to you a bit more; you were making progress.

You sat back up, running your hands down his toned chest before your thumbs rolled his nipples, making sure to play with the pretty barbells pierced through the sensitive flesh. The attention made Dabi bite his lip harshly, wanting nothing more than to cut off any moan that threatened to escape him.

You took it as a challenge, leaning down again as you flattened your tongue against a bud while your thumb and index fingers continued toying with the other one. Your tongue swirled, flicking the barbell around, making Dabi's body shake, the stimulation to his chest feeling overwhelming with your precise and rapid movements.

"Ngh... fuck, babe," Dabi moaned. It was strained as he tried to contain the noise.

You hummed, pressing a multitude of sloppy kisses to his body as you trailed downwards. His abs tensed underneath your lips, watching in anticipation as you neared the one place he wanted you the most. You slid your nails down the attractive trail of white hair until you reached the bulge in his pants, flattening your palm against it. You felt him up, groping as you revelled at how hard he was. You sat straight as you undid his belt and jeans.

"Fucking, finally," Dabi sighed, already feeling less confined.

You hummed, pulling Dabi's pants and boxers down his legs and letting his heavy cock slap onto his lower abdomen, leaving behind a small puddle of pre-cum. The liquid seeped from his tip, running down his shaft and making that pretty frenum piercing of his glisten further. The sight had your mouth watering, watching how he throbbed with a desperate need to cum.

You finally pulled your shirt over your head, effectively distracting Dabi as he focused his attention on your bare skin. As you did so, you took the opportunity to command your quirk to fumble beneath the bed, subtly pulling out what would be the main event of your night. Tossing your shirt to the floor, you smirked as you watched the hands emerge, holding the items, which did not go unnoticed by Dabi.

"What the fuck are you looking a—"

Dabi's words died as his eyes grew wide upon seeing the bottle of lube and harness that bore a realistic, beige-coloured dildo — around six and a half inches, curved with some texture and a smooth tip. Dabi gulped, knowing damn well what you were implying, but still, he managed to glare up at you in an attempt to salvage his wavering dignity.

"What in the fuck is that?" Dabi hissed. It was rhetorical, but you still answered.

"That," you gave him a bored look as you pointed at the toy for emphasis, "would be a strap-on."

His glare hardened. "I fucking know what it is. When did you even get that?"

"Gag gift from a friend," you shrugged, running your hands along his thighs before snaking them towards his ass. "And I am going to use that little toy to fuck this," you said, squeezing the flesh teasingly.

"As if I'm letting you do that. You're out of your mind," Dabi said.

"What?" You sneered. "Is the big, bad villain scared of a bit of cock in his ass?"

Perhaps it was wrong of you to play with his ego as such, but again, you didn't really care. Besides, you weren't about to ignore the uncharacteristic hue of pink coating Dabi's cheeks.

"I'd rather fuck into that pretty little cunt of yours," Dabi said.

"I'm sure you would," you said rather casually as you set the strap-on next to him and grabbed the lube. "Anyway, that's for a little later. I've got other things I want to do to you first."

You gripped the base of Dabi's cock, pouring a generous stream of lube onto it. With both hands wrapped around his girth, you slowly glided up and down his shaft to thoroughly coat it and your hands in the slippery liquid.

You chuckled under your breath; if Dabi thought you would jerk his cock as you usually did, he was sorely mistaken.

Reaching for the tip of his cock, you brought a fingertip to the head, tracing your finger in slow circles around it as to tease him. The lube slicking his cock made the simple action that much more satisfying, and you could see more beads of his own pre-cum leaking down and merging with the lube. The mild stimulation was enough to make his dick jump from how aroused and needy Dabi was.

"So reactive, and I'm not even doing anything," you cooed.

You wrapped your hand at the base of his tip, making sure to pump at a tortuously slow pace, twisting your hand and letting your thumb rub against the frenulum of his cock — the area's sensitivity being amplified by the piercing — before teasing his slit.

Dabi threw his head back, teeth gritted as he finally received the attention he wanted. You could see his thighs tensing and shaking as you repeated the action, over and over, but never picking up the pace.

Your unoccupied hand reached for his balls, gently caressing them and offering the occasional squeeze, which earned you more streams of pre-cum, and a pretty moan from your villainous boyfriend.

Dabi's lips parted, sucking in a breath. It felt simultaneously amazing, but barely enough. Dabi was used to rough sex and harsh tugs at his cock to get him off, but you seemed adamant on depriving him of such, content with edging him towards his release.

And you fucking knew that, but you liked watching the conflict on his face. You loved seeing how engorged his cock and heavy his balls were from the need to cum. You adored watching his brows crease together as his eyes clenched shut.

"F-Fuck. Go faster," Dabi asked.

You stopped your movements altogether, seemingly contemplating his request, and Dabi had thought for a moment that he'd get what he wanted.

"Hm... no," you said, smirking in the slightest as a brief look of defeat crossed Dabi's features, though it was gone in an instant.

What kind of fucking monster had he allowed control of him?

Placing your palm atop the tip, you extended your fingers in a claw-like manner before gliding them up and down, from the head to the shaft, still keeping the same, lazy pace. You varied the pressure, offering a variety of sensations that had him arching his back.

Lowering both your hands to the base of his cock, you leaned down and swirled your tongue at the underside of his tip before sensually lapping at his slit, tasting the mixture of lubes as you maintained eye contact.

You took him into your mouth, fully taking him until he hit the back of your throat, but you didn't offer much more, immediately popping off of his dick and resuming your torturous handjob. The whine that escaped Dabi was so worth it.

"Maybe if you beg for it, I'll go faster," you said.

"You've gotta be kidding?" Dabi hissed.

You shook your head, keeping your concentration on his cock. You could practically feel the sheer humiliation radiating from Dabi's very soul.

".... Please," he visibly gritted his teeth as the word left his mouth. "Please go faster. I need you to go faster."

"Aw. Good boy," you said, genuinely smiling. "No."

"Excuse me? You fucking said—"

"Maybe. I said 'maybe'," you said, suddenly gripping his dick in a tight hold, immediately causing it to pulse in your hand. "You don't need me to go faster. I'll make you cum by my own means. Thank you very much."

You let go for a moment before slapping his cock hard enough for Dabi to fucking yelp. His cheeks were bright red, tongue darting to wet his lips.

Your hand gripped him once more. "You're just a masochistic little whore, aren't you?"

Touching the tip of your index finger to your thumb, you made an 'O' shape with your fingers, and starting at the tip of his cock, you stroked him downwards, and as you reached the base of his dick, your other hand repeated the process. Like an escalator type of motion; it had Dabi's cock twitching with every one of your movements.

Dabi's breaths grew heavy and rapid, and his thighs were so tense his body shook. His cock pulsed frequently as his head was thrown back.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he moaned, drawing out his words. "'M close. 'M so fuckin' close."

You hummed knowingly, yet you made no move to speed up as you normally would when he was close to orgasm. You were determined to draw this out as much as you could.

You began stroking his cock in a more standard motion, and to Dabi's horror and your sadistic amusement, you slowed your movements even more. He didn't know it was even possible.

"No! Ngh... fuck. Don't fuckin' slow down," he grunted. "The fuck's wrong with you?"

"Fuck yes! That's it," you moaned as he reached his peak.

It was unlike anything you had seen before: thick cum slowly beading at his tip before trickling down his shaft and gathering onto your hand and his pelvis. You've never seen him cum like this before, and you were mesmerized by every new drop that slowly dripped down his cock.

Dabi's reaction was beautiful. The grunts were loud, drawled out in a low tone that came from the deepest pits of his chest. His eyes had nearly rolled to the back of his skull as his tongue lolled out of his mouth for a brief second.

This was the longest orgasm he had ever gotten, and Dabi's head thrashed from side to side as he began feeling the overstimulation. Fuck — he was still leaking with cum; it wasn't over yet.

"H-Hah, fuck...!" He panted.

As his orgasm began to subside, your lips curled into a nearly-lopsided grin that Dabi missed due to his eyes being clenched shut.

"Take a deep breath, baby," you said.

"Why...?" He asked confusedly, still in a post-orgasm haze.

"Just do it."

He eyed you wearily but did as you asked. You watched as his chest rose, lungs being filled with oxygen. Before he could get a chance to exhale, you summoned your quirk, bringing a hand up to his face. You not only covered his mouth but also his nose.

Dabi's eyes widened at the sudden realization that he couldn't breathe, sending a brief shot of panic through his veins. He looked you in the eye, and as if you could sense his feelings, you softened.

"Remember what I said earlier?"

Dabi did; you were reminding him that he had the power to stop this at any given moment. He blinked, panic subsiding as he nodded. He became oddly relaxed for a man deprived of a necessary function for survival.

He trusted you.

You smiled at the green light and went straight back to work.

Unable to sharply inhale, his chest jumped as your hand resumed jerking off his cock — fast and rough. Your thumb stroked all of his most sensitive spots.

Dabi's eyes rolled to the back of his skull; grunts and moans remained caught in his throat. He was so fucking sensitive, and he wasn't sure if his head spun because of the overstimulation or from the lack of clean oxygen.

"What? Didn't you want me to go faster? I'm pretty sure that's what you were begging for earlier. Please, please go faster. I need you to go faster," you said, mocking him as you threw his previous words right back at him.

This was a foreign feeling to Dabi. Everything about this situation was foreign to him. But breath play? It was the last thing he expected out of you.

Dabi's Adam's Apple bobbed as the air trapped in his lungs tried to escape, cheeks bulging out as he grunted against the hand in an attempt to suck in fresh air. It was in vain; the hand was tightly clamped and suffocating him. His adrenaline seemed to be spiking, and it went straight to the swell of his cock.

He could hear his heartbeat thumping loudly in his own ears. His chest jumped again, convulsing hard enough that you got a brief view of his ribs.

"Hmph," he grunted again.

Dabi's lungs burned, and that warmth only fuelled his arousal. Fuck — it surprised him how into this he was. As his heart hammered against his chest in an erratic rhythm, his chest began to convulse more often, gagging noises sounding from his throat.

With the relentless way you fucked him with your hand and the lack of air, Dabi began growing dizzy, and he wondered if he was on the verge of passing out. He could tap out, but no way his pride would allow him to do such a thing.

Although his eyes threatened to fall shut, they shot wide open as he felt a second orgasm hit him like a train. It was a powerful one, painting his stomach white, with some nearly reaching his chest.

You took the hand off his face the moment his orgasm hit, enjoying the way he was torn between coughing, moaning and breathing heavily.

You gently stroked Dabi's thighs, shushing him as he came down from his high. Colour came flooding back to his face as he took in big gasps of air. He looked exhausted, and you sincerely contemplated ending the night there, thinking you may have gone too hard on him.

Dabi seemingly took notice of the soft, contemplative look in your eye. While he did appreciate your concern for his well-being, the night was still young, wasn't it?

"... 'S that all you got, princess?" He taunted with a tired smirk.

You laughed, getting back into character. "No, not at all."

You looked at your hand, still covered in Dabi's cum, before looking at him with a smirk. You lowered your hand near his mouth, looking at him expectantly.

"Clean it up, baby," you demanded.

Payback really was a bitch, huh? Dabi thought back to all the times he made you lick him clean, no matter if it was your or his mess. He opened his mouth, allowing you to shove a cum-coated finger inside. Dabi's glare was deadly as his own tangy taste hit his tongue.

"Don't look at me like that. It's not so bad, is it?" You taunted.

He much preferred your taste, but still, Dabi decided to put on a show for you as he began swirling his tongue around your finger, swallowing down his cum. As you removed your finger, his tongue darted towards your palm, sensually lapping up his substance while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck, that's hot," you said, licking your lips as you pulled your hand away.

"You're a freak," Dabi said.

"Yet here you are, indulging me. Face it, you're loving this," you retorted.

For a brief second, you hopped off the bed in order to slide your panties down. You made sure to bend over as you did so, giving Dabi a nice view of your ass and pussy, and peeking over your shoulder, you could tell that Dabi was definitely appreciative of the sight.

"Now," you started, crawling back onto the bed. "I'm not that cruel, so I'll give you a moment to recover a bit before I make you cum again. So, in the meantime, it's my turn to get off."

You crawled over him before straddling his chest, and oh, Dabi now understood what you wanted from him. He smirked up at you, thinking that this was the perfect opportunity to regain a bit of control by making you helplessly cum all over his tongue.

"Yeah? I'll make you feel good. C'mere," he said in a low growl.

"Don't be mistaken, babe. I'm still holding the reins, here," you said.

You got into position, thighs on either side of his head as your pussy hovered above his mouth. You could see Dabi's fingers twitching, wishing that he could grip your flesh and grind you down onto his mouth on his own accord. Dabi's patience seemed to be wavering, especially when you had teased him with your arousal on your fingers earlier. He was dying to replace the taste of himself in his mouth with your essence; just your smell was enough to make his pupils dilate, hazing his brain and fuelling his sex drive.

"God, you look nothing short of pathetic, right now. You should see how desperate you look," you taunted.

Dabi huffed. "Yeah? 'Cause from where I'm lying, your cunt's looking pretty fuckin' wet."

You lowered yourself onto Dabi's waiting mouth without warning. "God. Shut the fuck up."

Dabi's grunts were muffled under your weight, but it didn't take him much coaxing before he began devouring your sweet pussy. His lips closed around your clit, sucking at the sensitive bud as his tongue flicked at it.

You threw your head back, lips parting in a moan as you looked down at your boyfriend, and the look of pure enjoyment in his eyes made your cunt clench, nearly cumming on the spot. Dabi was enthusiastic, sloppily lapping at your arousal with loud and lewd slurping noises as your lube and his saliva sloshed around. Drool dribbled down his chin, and paired with the raven strands of hair that clung to his forehead from all the sweat, his face already looked like a mess.

"Yess. F-Fuck yes, Dabi!" You said, earning you a particularly good flick of his tongue. "Good boy. Fuck, you're good at this. That's all you're good for, huh?"

He blinked, and to your surprise, his eyes didn't turn harsh, they remained curious, pleasured — vulnerable.

Your thighs tensed, squeezing Dabi's head; the man beneath you looked in fucking heaven. You added more pressure to his mouth, essentially suffocating him with your soaked cunt; Dabi never skipped a beat, only eating you out much more vigorously like a starved man.

"Shit, that's it," you moaned, running your hand through his hair before yanking it roughly, earning a muffled moan from him. "I've always wanted to do this."

You lifted yourself off his mouth, allowing him to catch his breath. Although Dabi was panting, he lifted his head off the mattress, attempting to re-attach his lips to your pussy, eager to resume.

"Stick your tongue out, baby. Lemme ride your face," you said.

"Hm.. a'right," he said, doing as you asked.

You lowered yourself back onto his mouth, and you wasted no time in thrusting your hips, gliding your clit against the wet muscle. Your pace was relentless, you were practically using him for your pleasure, but Dabi didn't seem to mind, the pleasured grunts he let out sent delightful vibrations to your cunt.

You pulled at his hair again. "Fuck, you love getting smothered by my pussy, huh?" He answered with a hum. "I think I — fuck — like you better like this. Putting your dirty, rude fucking mouth to good use for once. All bound up for me to use however I want."

Dabi was so focused on our pussy that he hadn't noticed that you had summoned another ghost hand. At least, not until he felt a cool liquid dripping into his ass. Dabi's eyes widened in surprise, looking up at you as if demanding an explanation.

You slowed your movement, looking back at your quirk as if you had been none the wiser to what was happening. "Oh, that? Don't worry, baby. I need to stretch you out a bit."

The hands that had been holding his legs down throughout the whole night spread his legs further, giving you better access to his hole. The free hand inched closer, soothing the ring of muscles with soft, teasing circles.

"You're tense. I'm gonna need you to relax, 'kay?" You said before lifting yourself off his tongue once more, giving him the opportunity to speak. "Is this something you're willing to try? Just say the word, and the idea is gone."

Dabi felt his resolve crumbling. If this were anyone else, he would've incinerated them on the spot for even proposing the idea. But with you? He could trust you with this kind of vulnerability, something that was difficult — so difficult — for him to show. So, he nodded.

"Yeah, okay. Do what you want. I put you in charge, after all," he said.

You laughed. "If I remember correctly, you didn't put me in charge, I just took it."

"Mhm. Whatever you say."

"Okay, baby. Relax, I'm going to put it in, okay?" You said.

Dabi nodded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as if to brace himself for the foreign breach that was to come, and when it came, his eyes shot wide open, breathing coming to a sharp halt as his teeth gritted together in a hiss as a chilly finger began pushing inside his ass.

The finger had more girth than the average human size, and so you stilled, allowing him to adjust to the feeling before resuming. You reminded him to breathe, which he obeyed. When he seemed less tense, you pushed deeper until you were knuckle-deep. With the size of the finger, you wouldn't need to insert a second one. It was good training, however, as the dildo size you planned to use on him was rather large for a first-time ride.

"How does it feel," you asked, unable to hide your arousal when you heard Dabi — of all fucking people — whimper.

"Weird... but s'not bad," Dabi grunted, and you could tell that he was holding back his true feelings due to pride.

"Good. You're doing really good," you praised — a stark contrast to your previous behaviour.

But it wouldn't last very long.

Dabi's mind seemed in a haze — in a whole other dimension — so you reached down to lightly smack his cheek to gain his attention.

"You know, you still haven't made me cum," you said, gesturing to your pussy that still remained above his mouth. "You better finish what you started, and I expect you to make me cum before you do. Don't be selfish."

Dabi nodded, eyes glinting with mischief as he accepted your little challenge, and like the obedient little toy you had reduced him to, he stuck his tongue out, waiting for you to smother him.

You moaned loudly; if you thought his enthusiasm was mind-blowing before, it had reached a whole other level. The tip of his tongue dipped inside your entrance before moving to rapidly flick your clit in a consistent up and down motion. The pressure he applied was perfect, and his pace was that of a man on a fucking mission, dead set on the end goal.

Your ghost hand began to thrust, causing Dabi's breath to hitch as his tongue faltered for a moment. In response, you rutted your hips against him — it was a warning.

You slid your finger in and out, setting a slow and steady pace to warm him up. You felt around for a special little spot, one that had possibly never been stimulated up until now, and by God, you were excited to be the first one to hit that jackpot.

As you prodded around, Dabi's whole body suddenly tensed up, and he couldn't stop himself when his mouth unlatched from your pussy as he threw his head back, wheezing as if the wind had just been knocked out of him.

You laughed. "There it is."

You adjusted the hand, making sure that you slid the finger at the perfect angle, continuously sliding against Dabi's sweet spot. You moved at a slow pace, making him anticipate the moment you would hit the area again, and when you did, fuck, the slow pace you set made him feel the intense stimulation on every little nerve ending.

Dabi's tongue lolled out of his mouth, nearly going cross-eyed at the sensation. It was a nice sight, for sure, but you were a little unhappy with the lack of stimulation you were receiving. Your clit felt swollen, pulsing from need.

"Hm... I'm happy that you're enjoying yourself, but don't forget what you're supposed to be doing," you said.

"F-Fuck... ahhh. 'M sorry — shit, feels so fuckin' good — c'mere," he moaned, regaining his focus.

You were relentless as you rode his tongue, not giving him the opportunity to catch his breath. You figured you'd do all the work if your little pillow princess was unable to focus because of one measly finger up his ass.

Dabi's eyes rolled back, grunts and whimpers muffled by your cunt. His senses were overwhelmed, and he was living for it. Your smell, the feel of your skin, your touch, your sounds, the sight of you — everything felt overstimulating.

"F-Fuck! I'm close, Dabi," you moaned, riding him so roughly that your clit occasionally hit his nose. "Are you gonna make me cum, baby?"

Dabi had a hard time answering, even if it was just a hum, especially when the finger began thrusting in time with your grinding. Fuck, he was close, about to hit his third orgasm of the night. He tried his best to keep the cum in his balls, but it proved difficult when you were massaging his prostate like that.

You knew Dabi well enough to know the signs, and you huffed, not pleased that he was failing his task, and so, just as he was about to cum, the finger stilled. You summoned a sixth hand, tightly wrapping it around Dabi's cock while pressing down at the back of his tip, forcing the urge to subside. Dabi whined at the ruined orgasm, eyes twitching as he gave you the most pitiful look you had ever seen on him.

"Uh-uh," you chided. "Remember what I said? I get to cum first."

He nodded, forcing his concentration back onto your cunt, determined to make you squirt all over his goddamn face. Your moans were music to his ears, and he found himself grunting with every little noise falling from your lips. Your head was thrown back, hands reaching for the bedsheets as you gripped them in an attempt to stabilize yourself. Your thighs clenched around his head as they shook, and Dabi could feel your clit pulse on his tongue.

"Dabi! Fuck! C-Cumming. I'm gonna cum," you panted.

You went silent for a brief moment as your body went rigid, and when the tension that had been building in your abdomen snapped, you let out a loud, elongated moan. Your chest heaved with rapid breaths as sharp pleasure had your pussy pulsing from a powerful orgasm. Dabi nearly growled as he savoured your taste when your cum hit his lips. It was a mess as the clear liquid he couldn't catch in his mouth trickled down his chin.

He slowed down his movements, helping you ride out your high until he completely stilled. You lifted yourself off his mouth, backing away so that you were straddling his chest as you caught your breath and recovered from your post-orgasm haze. After all, you still had one last thing to do.

"Fuck," Dabi licked his lips, swallowing down more of your cum, groaning in satisfaction. "Did I do good?"

"Hm... yeah, you did. But now," you said, grabbing the strap-on before stepping off the bed. "We get to the real fun."

You made the hands that had been preoccupied with his cock and ass disappear, making Dabi suddenly feel so empty. He watched as you slipped the harness on, the straps weren't complicated and awkward to figure out, so you didn't fiddle with them all that much.

You crawled back onto the bed, placing yourself between Dabi's spread legs before grabbing the bottle of lube and slathering some on the silicone cock. For safety, you applied some more to Dabi's asshole. You didn't want the stretch to hurt him, after all.

"You look pretty ecstatic with this. You have some kind of weird fetish for me with things in my ass, huh?" Dabi teased.

"Maybe I do. Who knows? Maybe next time, I'll make you wear a cute, fuzzy tail butt plug," you said, lining yourself up.

"As if I'd let you do that."

"That's what you've been saying all night, yet here we are."

You held onto his thighs, locking eyes with him. No words needed to be exchanged for Dabi to know that you were asking if he was ready, to which he nodded. Dabi exhaled, forcing his body to relax as he felt the tip of the cock prodding at his hole.

The toy began breaching, making Dabi's breath hitch. Shit — he was suddenly happy that you had prepped him with your quirk, that thing was much bigger than he had anticipated. Dabi's breath caught in his throat as you slowly pushed in deeper before stilling as means to let him adjust. His cock betrayed him, throbbing and seemingly getting even harder at the sensation of being filled up.

"Fuck. Oh my Go—" Dabi's words died down as his head fell back into the sheets, mouth parting in a silent moan.

You leaned down, pressing a surprisingly loving kiss to his lips, serving as a distraction from the stretch. Dabi lazily reciprocated, being as delirious as he was. You then brought your lips to his ear.

"I'm halfway in, okay? Just relax, it's gonna feel so good soon," you shushed with a reassuring tone that had Dabi nearly melting.

The shift between your harsh treatment of his body and your soft, caring side gave him whiplash at times, but he had to say: he loved it. He loved how you knew which side to use at which moment. Dabi would have never guessed that you would make such a good top, but you just kept surprising him, didn't you?

Gently, you pushed the dildo further in, pulling a sharp gasp from Dabi as you bottomed out, your hips firmly pressed against his. Again, you let him adjust to the depth the toy was reaching, to the stretch it was providing. Your thumbs traced soothing circles into the healthy skin of his thighs.

He had better enjoy this tenderness while it lasted, because you were going to fucking destroy him.

You gave an experimental thrust, only pulling out halfway before pushing back in; it made Dabi's body jolt. Grinning at his pleasured reaction, you fully pulled out the toy before giving one hard, deep thrust.

"A-Ah!"

You grinned. "Atta boy. That's it."

You rocked your hips, rolling them in an attempt to find the perfect angle to hit his G-spot. The lube made the glide so slick and easy, and you found that Dabi's tight little hole had adjusted rather quickly, allowing you to push your hips against him rather roughly.

"Holy shit," you moaned, the sight underneath you bringing pleasure in of itself.

Dabi already looked fucked out, dignity thrown out the window as curses mingled with moans and pleas for more, more. His eyes blinked rapidly as if trying to clear his vision from whatever haze took over him, and drool pooled at the corner of his lips from the way the tip of his tongue poked out.

Fuck it, you thought as you fully deactivated your quirk, allowing Dabi not only free rein of his arms and legs but also his flames. But honestly? You had him right where you wanted, and you knew that he was too concentrated on the pleasure to even think about regaining control.

Your skin slapped against his, the rough thrusts making the bed creak. One of Dabi's arms shot to his face, covering his eyes and a portion of his sweat-covered forehead as the pleasure hit him hard, while his other hand gripped at the sheets beneath him. His legs seemed to have a mind of their own, spreading as much as they could to give you better angles to pleasure him.

His cock bobbed in time with your thrusts, and you watched as pre-cum seeped from the red, swollen tip. You knew he wouldn't last very long in this state, and you were fine with that; you just wanted to give him mind-boggling pleasure and make him forget his own fucking name.

"OH SHIT! Fuck!" Dabi screamed, back arching as you hit that spot.

"Right there, huh?" You grinned. "Get ready, baby."

You pushed one of his legs up towards his chest, making him gasp loudly as you found the perfect angle to fuck him stupid. Hearing him whine and moan, chanting your name like a prayer, gave your ego such a fucking boost, and you swore you might have cum from those sounds alone.

You licked your lips as you took notice of the previous spurts of cum painting Dabi's torso. He looked so fucking hot like that, and you couldn't help yourself when you activated your quirk one last time. A ghost hand brought your phone, opening up the camera app as you snapped a picture. The sound of the shutter caught Dabi's attention.

You groaned at the picture — a work of art, is what it was.

"Fuck, Dabi. Look at yourself," you said, bringing your phone to his face.

He could barely recognize himself: matted hair, all wet and clinging to his forehead. His body was covered in sweat and cum, while his lips shined with his drool and your own release. He had the most delirious, fucked-out look he had ever seen in his life, with eyes nearly crossing and rosy cheeks. From the angle, he could see the silicone cock inside his ass, and his rock-hard cock stood flushed and engorged as it seeped with his lube.

You put your phone away, deactivating your quirk. "God, what would they think if they saw you like this? Think anybody would take you seriously ever again? I'm sure I could make a fortune, whoring you out for the world to see. What do you think? One of the most dangerous villains getting fucked by thick cock."

He whined at your words. Even though he knew you wouldn't ever truly do that to him, hearing that little fantasy of yours had his cock pulsing. Dabi couldn't help himself when he reached for his dick, stroking it in time with your rough thrusts, only edging him closer to his release.

"That's it, babe. Stroke that fat cock," you encouraged, pace never faltering.

"G-Gonna... 'm gonna — fuck," he couldn't even form a coherent sentence, the pleasure was just getting too much.

"I know, Dabi," you said. "Do it. Cum for me."

He did, and the overstimulation hit him immediately. He could barely keep pumping his dick through his orgasm without squirming, especially when you slammed against his G-spot, thoroughly milking him dry. The amount of cum that poured out of him was impressive, possibly due to his previously interrupted orgasm. He covered his face with both his hands, grunting loudly yet lowly in a way that resembled a growl.

Your thrusts subsided, and you carefully slid the toy out. You leaned down to press soothing butterfly kisses to his thighs before moving up to his face. Pulling his arms away from his face, you peppered his face and lips with the same, loving kisses. You shushed him, muttering praises as he came down from his high.

"Are you okay?" You asked with genuine concern.

"Yeah. 'M good," he croaked in a tired voice.

"Stay here, okay?" You said, hopping off the bed and ridding yourself of the strap-on before heading out of the room.

Dabi nodded, staring up at the ceiling — not that he could move much at the moment; he felt so goddamn sore and tired. You did a number on him.

You came back after a moment, a sheepish smile on your face as you brought towels and a glass of water. You helped Dabi sit up, bringing the glass to his lips as he tilted his head back. He gulped down the water in one go, throat immediately feeling refreshed.

"What are you doing?" He asked, watching as you unfolded one of the damp cloths.

"Taking care of you."

You brought the cloth to his face, and being mindful of his staples, you cleaned his face of all the sweat, drool and dried cum. Dabi sighed at the feeling, the coolness feeling great on his overheated body. You went lower, cleaning the release off his chest and pelvis. You muttered an apology when Dabi hissed in sensitivity when you gently brought a fresh cloth to his softened dick.

You tossed the towels into a hamper before bringing your boyfriend into a hug, which he reciprocated tightly. "I hope I wasn't too rough on you.”

He chuckled, patting your back reassuringly. "I didn't know you had it in you. I can't remember what I did to piss you off to the point of ragdolling me around in bed, but shit, I must have deserved it."

You laughed, pulling away so that you could kiss his forehead. "So, can I say that I fucked you stupid?"

"Hm... I dunno, but maybe I should piss you off more often if that's the outcome."

"Don't test me," you said, shaking your head. "Alright, lemme go run a bath."

You attempted to get up, but Dabi was quick to pull you back into bed, laying you down on his chest. The warmth of his skin, paired with the calm and steady thump of his heart, nearly immediately lulled you to sleep.

"Nap first. Hygiene later."

All you wanted to do was get in contact with Kaji for some assistance in a bit of a sparring session, all for the sake of training. That was, after all, the last thing you really needed to focus on for the remaining ten months before the entrance exam.

"Are you home?" You had written to Kaji.

"No, I'm at the bar," he wrote back.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance, typing out your response, though you had to re-type your answer as he had sent you a second message.

"Why? Need me?"

Your brows furrowed at the extra 'winking emoticon' he added. He knew what he was doing, and you hated him for it.

"You wish. I don't exactly need you, but some assistance in training would be nice. I thought of you first, I guess," you wrote.

"Well, that's awfully sweet and flattering of you."

Was it possible to hear somebody's tone of voice through text? Because you were certain you could hear his classic pompous and teasing tone.

"Sure. What bar you at?" You asked.

"You know the one," he replied.

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head with pursed lips. Of fucking course, he had to be at League's hideout. Again. Wasn't he sick of the rundown place already? You were certain that Kaji didn't find actual enjoyment in interacting with Kurogiri and Shigaraki, especially not Shigaraki. If he actually did enjoy it, then you'd truly question his sanity.

Before you could type out your annoyance, Kaji quickly sent another message.

''Tell you what... since you're such a doll, I'll make a little compromise for you. Join me at the bar, keep me company, give a little status report to Handjob, and I might just leave a little earlier to lend you my expertise,'' he wrote.

God, he could achieve condescension even through text. The thought of having to, once more, head to Kamino, made you exaggeratedly sigh. Still, if it could accelerate the process of getting what you wanted, then so be it, you supposed.

''Fine. I'm at my place, so get Kurogiri to open up a portal,'' you said.

Maybe you should have been a bit more patient, but then again, you'd probably be delaying some of your tasks. You'd inevitably have to give an update on your mission to Shigaraki and Kurogiri. You had complained a multitude of times to Kaji that you were growing bored with the ridiculous number of in-person meetings you'd been having with the League, that phone calls would do the trick. According to your comrade, the League was still scoping you out; you had yet to earn their full trust, and by that, he mostly meant Shigaraki.

''Thank you for being present today, (Y/N).''

It was Kurogiri's deep voice that snapped you out of your lament.

''Mhm,'' you hummed, crossing your arms.

The misty apparition then turned to Kaji, nodding to him. ''Astarot, you have my gratitude for convincing her to come.''

Kaji waved him off with a grin. ''Oh, please. It wasn't that difficult to convince her. A little bribery goes a long way.''

Kaji then locked eyes with you, cocking his head to the side. ''Go on, my dear, don't you have some things to say to our allies concerning your progress?''

Once more, all eyes were on you, making you sigh before you cleared your throat.

''I'm progressing,'' you said.

You let your words linger a bit, keeping up an uninterested front to hide your amusement at the growing impatience radiating from Shigaraki and Kurogiri. Kaji, on the other hand, didn't quite care, lighting up a cigarette with the help of his purple flames.

''Well, are you gonna spit it out already?'' Shigaraki said, voice laced with much displeasure. ''If you're here to waste my time, then get out of my sight.''

Noticing that Shigaraki's fingers had begun twitching, Kaji puffed out a cloud of smoke before telling you: ''Come on now, (Y/N) — play nice.''

You rolled your eyes, letting your arms down and putting a hand on your hip. ''Fine, fine. My legal information has been successfully modified. In the eyes of the public, I will be (Y/N) Aratashi, a fifteen-year-old teenager, dreaming of becoming a hero who lost her parents at a young age, therefore having been raised by her three older brothers, who 'are' Astarot and his two brothers. In other words, Kairo forged documents that were linked to Astarot's own forged documents. Oh, and my application for the hero course was sent in,'' you explained.

''Very good,'' Kurogiri approved.

''And, I have a way to physically pass off as a teen. I'm guessing Astarot's already filled you in on my quirk, but it allows me to borrow the quirks of people whose deaths I'm responsible for. I have access to a quirk that would allow me to manipulate cells. I'm sure that, with a bit of training, I could shape-shift a bit,'' you continued.

Kurogiri nodded, seemingly pleased with your progress. He then spoke up.

''I understand that you have been rather preoccupied with preparations for our mission; it has been — and will remain — a heavy and stressful task that you've been entrusted with. We've had our doubts about your loyalty to the cause, but you have proven thus far to be rather trustworthy as well as dedicated to our mission. Good work, and please, do carry on as such,'' Kurogiri said, ending his small speech with a slight bow.

You blinked at the praise, genuinely taken aback. You were sure that it was visible on your features, especially when Kaji looked away from you to poorly conceal a chuckle.

''Hah? Uh... thanks, I guess? Just doin' my part,'' you said, shrugging your shoulders as you scratched the back of your head.

You were legitimately not used to genuine praise for your skills. Suddenly, you felt as though Kurogiri had become your favourite person. Kaji and Kurogiri seemed to approve of your progress, but the same couldn't be said about Shigaraki, who had been silent the entire time asides from the constant, ear-grating scratching noises caused by his continuous clawing at his neck.

Suddenly, you remembered Kairo, how you had managed to recruit him to the League. You were, admittedly, rather proud of that achievement. Hell, you revelled in the fact that you had been one of the first to actually meet the guy in person, and that you were the catalyst in him making the decision to partner up with the organization. Surely the League would be happy about that fact; they definitely needed someone like him on their side.

Or, you should say that you definitely needed someone like him. After all, you were now a part of the group.

''Last thing, you know the guy who arranged my documents, yeah? Kairo? Well, he's a powerful hacker paired with a good technology-related quirk and a ridiculously big brain. The thing is, he doesn't like confrontation and would rather remain anonymous, but... I managed to meet up with him in person, and you know what? I recruited him. He agreed to work for our cause, so long as he could pull strings from the sidelines. I figured that you'd wanna know. But hey, he'll be damn useful to us, that's for sure,'' you said.

Kaji perked up a that. "Did you, now? Even I couldn't get him to give me a straight answer. Who knew you had the persuasive skills in you?" He then turned to the other two League members. "She's right, though: Kairo is a powerful asset to us, so having him on our side is for the best."

"Excellent work," Kurogiri said. "Now that—"

"I don't like this," Shigaraki rasped, quickly cutting off Kurogiri.

Your brow quirked in questioning. "Hm?"

"I don't think I ever gave you permission to go off and recruit some random brat," he said.

Your eyes narrowed. "You're fucking with me, right?"

"No. Why should I trust anything you bring to the game? You're supposed to take orders from me, and I didn't give you permission to recruit an anonymous brat that I don't know and trust. You irritate me," Shigaraki said, pointing at you.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, clenching your eyes shut as you tried to keep your calm. You had always found Shigaraki — during the little time you've known him — to be a difficult person; you couldn't find it in yourself to get along with your 'boss'. Hell, you didn't like to acknowledge him as your superior in the organization, and you wouldn't until he fucking matured a bit and found a deeper purpose in his endeavours other than 'All Might needs to die'.

"Listen here," you started, your voice being perfectly calm, yet threatening to burst with irritation. "I don't care if you 'think' that Kairo is untrustworthy or not... take it from someone who's been working with him for years with no issues, and Astarot can vouch for him."

"Definitely can," Kaji chimed in.

You nodded before continuing. "Besides, we need someone like him on our side."

Shigaraki was quick to disagree. "I don't need him."

"Yes, yes you do," you said, smacking your palm against your forehead. "In fact, if you want to achieve something as huge as killing All Might and breaking hero society, you need the most elite of villains on your side — people like Astarot, like Kairo, like—"

"Like you?" Shigaraki cut you off, now on his feet. "From what I've seen, you're just an unimportant NPC, a little errand girl for others."

The tension between Shigaraki and you had become much more dreadful, and every other party could feel the weight and anxiety of it. The moment of silence between the two of you didn't help the situation, both of you were internally sizing the other up, and with the leader now being on his feet, Kurogiri seemed so much more alert, knowing just how quickly Shigaraki's self-restraint could crumble.

"Errand girl, huh?" You said, nodding to yourself before scoffing. "Well, this fucking errand girl has been the one working her ass off to make preparations to actually execute a huge part of the mission! What the hell have you been doing all this time besides sitting on your ass, jerking off to the fantasy of All Might's insides being splattered on a wall, huh?"

Shigaraki didn't respond, instead violently clawing the skin of his neck raw.

"That's what I fucking thought," you said. "You're so quick to call others brats when they don't bend over to your every word, yet you're the most pathetic, whiny little bitch I've ever come across. God — what the hell does your master even see in you? Talk about shitty judgment. A leader? Please. Until you prove me otherwise, you're a joke."

The silence that followed was heavy; you could hear a pin drop. Even the air felt dead. You stood your ground, knowing that you had made things excessively personal by bringing up Shigaraki's master. It probably wasn't your brightest moment; the words had slipped out faster than your logical thinking could act — it was your anger that had won that internal battle. But consequences be damned; you meant what you had said, and you wouldn't take it back.

"You... you take that back," Shigaraki rasped.

With your lack of an apology, Shigaraki took a shaky step towards you, causing you to adopt a defensive posture, readying yourself for an attack.

Kurogiri tensed up. "Tomura Shigaraki, you must control yourself."

Shigaraki didn't listen, however. "I don't like you... you should just die!"

Suddenly, his arms shot in your direction, hands aimed for your face. You immediately activated your Volcanic quirk, palms glowing a fiery orange as it heated to searing temperatures. You knew how dangerous Shigaraki's quirk was; you didn't want to be on the receiving end of it, especially with how tempted he seemed to be by your possible demise. You were ready to catch his wrists to fucking brand your handprints into his skin with your lava.

"Both of you, stop it immediately!"

You had barely registered Kurogiri's warning, only focused on the fight that had broken out. Except, it never came; neither your hands or Shigaraki's had made contact with either one of you. You blinked, focus finally lifting from the threat on your life as you took in your surroundings and the cause of the stoppage.

It was Kurogiri's doing; his hands had extended into a multitude of portals that had caused your attacks to be redirected away from one another. The sight was rather strange, seeing your hands protruding from portals around the room. It was a rather creative way to settle a fight between people, you had to admit.

Looking over at Kaji, your brows furrowed. Multiple deep, purple wisps levitated around him, and if you listened closely, you could hear faint and eerie whispers coming from them, though you couldn't make out any words, only gibberish. His purple hair as well as his trench coat flowed despite the lack of drafts in the building. Another flame had also lit up at the top of his head, right between his horns, and it swayed around rather erratically. The look of grave seriousness on his face was quite uncharacteristic, considering his usual smug and nonchalant self. At a quick glance, you might've thought he was looking at you, but looking over your comrade much better, you could see that the glare — and the possible attack he was preparing — was aimed for Shigaraki.

Kurogiri sighed. "The two of you mustn't turn on one another. Level yourselves and quit this nonsense." He was quick to scold the two of you, as if you were both unruly children.

Sensing that the tension had calmed in the slightest, Kurogiri released the two of you. You took a few steps back for your safety, while Shigaraki nearly threw himself back onto a bar stool with a slight huff. You wondered if he was pouting behind that hand.

Kaji then cleared his throat, extinguishing his flames. "Well, I think we've gotten everything we needed to say out of the way!"

He joined you across the room, putting his hand atop your head. "We should probably be on our way. After all, I did promise (Y/N) here a bit of my time."

The dark look on his features had been replaced with something much more calm so quickly it nearly gave you whiplash, but you were grateful that you'd finally be out of the bar. As Kaji gestured towards the door, you nodded and began heading out. Neither of you bothered having Kurogiri warp you back to your respective homes.

Your comrade followed behind, but not before casting a quick glance over his shoulder. "We'll be in touch. Until next time."

The little bell atop the door jingled as you exited the bar, slamming the door behind you. The bar was left silent, both villainous men that remained contemplating the events that had just transpired. Neither really dared to speak for a little while, making for a rather awkward ambience.

Eventually, Kurogri broke the silence.

"I suggest you find common grounds with her, Tomura," he suggested.

"Huh? Kurogiri, don't tell me you're on her side," Shigaraki grunted.

"That is not what I am implying," Kurogiri said. "However, I am of the opinion that her, as well as her comrades, are vital to us. Therefore, we should tread carefully going forwards. We should not lose the opportunity that we have to make good connections."

"Huh? Since when do you trust her that much?" Shigaraki ask.

"I am not saying that she and Astarot have my full trust, and yes, this Kairo person might be questionable. However, with the satisfactory efforts and progress she's put forward thus far, we should give her the benefit of the doubt. I understand that you may find her to be an irritating person, but it would be in your best interest to try to form a stronger alliance with her."

~~~~~~

"I'm not saying that Shigaraki's a charming person, but you should probably try to play nice with him. Or, at the very least, pretend to agree with him. It'll save us a bit of hassle. I know you can handle that, right?" Kaji said.

You gritted your teeth, shoving your hands into your jacket's pockets. "To hell with that, and fuck 'playing nice'. He's an insufferable moron that needs to be knocked down a few pegs."

"Well, I'm not saying that I disagree," he mused. "But, whether you like it or not, he is your boss, and—"

"And he's not worth shit as a leader! If he could shape up a bit, then I'd respect him as an ally," you yelled, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

Kaji chuckled, finding entertainment in your annoyance. "You two have much more in common than you'd like to admit."

You must have sent him the most obvious look of indignation — brows tightly knitted and nose scrunched — as Kaji immediately began laughing his ass off.

"Oh, yeah, really fucking funny! I'd rather if you didn't compare me to that crusty sac of shit, thanks," you scoffed. "And by the way, you're not in a good position to tell me to play nice with Shigaraki. Don't think I didn't see you about to burn him to ashes."

He winked at you. "Well, now, can't blame a man for coming to the defence of his good friend."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, whatever. I didn't need you to be my knight in shining armour. I can handle him."

After a brief moment of silence, you spoke up again.

"I'm kinda starting to regret agreeing to work for the League."

Kaji tilted his head. "Hm? And what do you mean by that?"

"Do we really need them? I mean, Shigaraki's convictions are shit. In fact, they're nonexistent. He's just blindly acting without a single thought. Us, on the other hand, we have convictions and a purpose. Why merge with those guys when we could build our own organization with villains of the same mentality," you explained.

Kaji hummed, seemingly thinking of his answer for quite some time before answering. "For sure, we could do that. But, if All For One sees potential in Shigaraki, then so be it. Maybe he'll impress us a bit more in the future. But, listen, it's the opportunity that we're after. I know you don't care about what Shigaraki wants, and I know I don't as well, so let's just grasp that opportunity to finally overthrow this godawful society. (Y/N), we're just using them to get a bit closer to our goals, and we'll meet more people that think like us along the way. Just focus on our goals."

You cracked a small smile. "Yeah, guess you're right."

Kaji only hummed, turning his eyes up to the evening sky, though the view was partially blocked by the many, tall buildings. Kamino was always bustling, being a business town and all, but when the sun began to set and the night sky overlooked the city is when the party animals and weirdos came out. It was no different, there were people all around you, yet you didn't bother to keep your conversation private. It didn't matter, though — the large crowd drowned your voices, and everybody seemed far off in their own little worlds.

Funny how there were two criminals, discussing their plans for attack upon humanity out loud, and nobody stopped to question whether authorities should be contacted.

"So, about that training? Did you still need me to give you a good beating?" Kaji asked, shifting the subject.

You waved him off. "Lost interest. I just need a drink."

"Oh? How about we backtrack over to—"

"No, fuck that!"

Kaji laughed; it was a genuine laugh that was neither forced, nor did it sound condescending. You didn't remember the last time you heard him laugh as such. Hell, the only memories that came to mind was when you were young children.

"Tell you what: how about we head to some other bar for a fun night? My treat," Kaji proposed.

You nodded. "Sure, sounds good. God — I just wanna get hammered."

He nodded in agreement before playfully wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. You didn't make any efforts to push him away; you didn't quite care if Kaji got a little handsy with you.

"Look at us! Having a bit of 'us time', just like the good ol' days. It's been too long, don't you think, dear?" Kaji asked.

You chuckled at that, a small yet genuine smile stretching at your lips. You didn't have a single snarky comment at the tip of your tongue, so you instead decided to lightly elbow him in the side, though the gesture held no strength or malice.

You and Kaji had come a long way, yet your dynamic had never really changed. Sure, the times weren't the same — not like when you were both kids that were trying to distract yourselves from your families by playing board games in his room and blocking out any outside noise.

Between the passive-aggressive back and forth you had with Kaji on a daily basis, it was easy to forget the fact that you and Kaji genuinely cared for one another. It was a feeling that wasn't out of the realm of possibility for you, even if you were rather closed-off and displayed tough love.

And really... you weren't that annoyed that Kaji had stood in your defence back at the League's bar. You did appreciate that, even after all these years, he had your back through and through.

~~~~~~

Your head was pounding as you attempted to make heads or tails of the word-vomit you were reading. Science had never been your strongest subject when you had been homeschooled. Academic trauma was resurfacing, that was for sure.

You were desperately trying to understand biology, how cells worked and about various living beings' bodies such as humans, animals and even fucking plants. You figured that by having a better understanding of biology, you would have a better understanding of Cell Manipulation, but it was such a deep and complex rabbit hole that was seemingly never-ending.

It was stressing you out rather badly.

You sighed, shifting into a more comfortable position on your couch, as your back had begun aching from the constant arching. Maybe you were diving head first into a much too complex subject right off the bat. After all, you were trying to understand how cells worked in function of age in hopes of finding a way to shape-shift in a way that would make you appear younger.

You knew that it was possible; you just had to figure out the technicalities.

You took another deep breath, trying to get your stress in check. There was no need for you to panic; you still had ten months to figure this shit out. You would be okay, and maybe you should start with something a bit more basic.

Something like... healing a cut? Maybe?

Being able to heal yourself would be a big advantage, and it might be a bit more straightforward than rejuvenation. Plus, as you looked down at the new, claw-shaped bruises on your wrists, you'd have a bit of a saving grace whenever a spirit caught you while in the realm.

Typing into the search bar, you scrolled through various documents, trying to find a trustworthy source. When you found one, you were relieved at the simple wording used to explain the healing process of small wounds.

You carefully and attentively read the page, making mental note of every little step of the process, and you found yourself coming to understand how a body functioned. You learned how blood vessels clotted the cut to keep blood from exiting the body, as well as keep dirt and other crap out. You came to understand the purpose of white blood cells that act as a sort of filter that digests any foreign particle inside the body. Scabs were formed by the proteins in blood worked with plasma and blood platelets to form a scab, where the regenerative process would happen underneath that little protection. The healing process would start at the edge of the wound and work to the centre; new tissue would begin to form until the wound is covered.

That was simple enough to understand, right? Now, the process could take a few days, but with the quirk, you could most likely accelerate it tenfold. Now, all you had to do was try to put it into action.

You didn't have any fresh cuts, unfortunately; the ones you had already healed up, and you weren't quite sure if the process was similar when it came to bruises. With those thoughts, you stood up and headed to your kitchen. Rummaging through your drawer, you pulled out a decently-sharpened knife.

You straightened out your arm, and without a single thought, pressed the blade into your bicep. You winced a little as you drew blood, but it wasn't like you hadn't felt worse. You set the knife down and nearly glared at your cut. How did you even activate the quirk?

Ironically, you knew how to use it on other people to some degree. Though, all you knew to do was shift a person's eye colour, hair colour and skin colour. A touch and imagining the process was all you needed to activate the quirk when it came to other people.

Perhaps it was similar for yourself.

As you contemplated the process, your hands began to form a dark cloud of mist. This wasn't the Cell Manipulation quirk in action, that much you knew. It was your own; Abyss was asking for permission to manifest. Maybe they had some advice to offer.

Granting permission to the entity, black mist formed in your kitchen until it slowly formed into the vessel that held all your quirks. The usual signs of their arrival had befallen your apartment once again: tar, frigid air, dimmed lights — the works.

"Is everything alright, Abyss?" You asked.

"We were concerned for your wellbeing," they said.

You glanced down at your self-inflicted cut. Oh, so that was what Abyss was concerned about, huh? How... awfully nice of them. Was it strange to say that your spirit-like quirk had more of a parental instinct towards you than your actual parents?

"Oh, don't worry about it too much. I'm just trying to figure out how that Cell Manipulation quirk works. I figured I could start with something simple, like healing small cuts," you reassured them.

"Ah, we see. Very well then. We apologize for the disturbance," they said with a slight bow.

You waved them off. "There wasn't a disturbance in the first place, and actually, I might need your help with something. Well, more like a confirmation."

They straightened up. "But of course. We are here to service you, after all."

"Do you think you could tune into the soul of the quirk's original owner? Maybe to see how they activated it on themselves?" You asked.

"Of course," they nodded.

Bringing their skeletal hands together, a dark red ball of light slowly began to manifest in their hands. It waved erratically, growing and shrinking in size as Abyss forced a connection with the soul. It made sounds that resembled whispering; it was as if it was communicating with Abyss.

You could only watch with growing interest; you really wondered what they were saying to each other. What was Abyss' existence like? Clearly, they weren't that dormant when not manifested in the living world as they could — as they had just done a minute ago — ask for permission to manifest and took notice of things that were off about you.

Truly, there were still many things that you didn't understand regarding your quirk.

"I see," Abyss muttered. "The quirk 'Cell Manipulation' once belonged to a man in his mid-forties by the name of Nakama Yoshiyuki. His cause of death: heavy smoke inhalation due to your Volcanic quirk. The activation for oneself is highly similar: you must imagine the process cells go through with the action you wish to preform. The only difference is that you must wrap your arms around yourself. The process will also not work if you are not immobile. That is all the information that I have for the time being."

You nodded, thankful that it wasn't too complex.

"Thank you, Abyss. You're dismissed," you said.

"It is our pleasure to serve you. Please, call us again if you require us," they said with a polite bow before disappearing.

As per Abyss' instructions, you grounded yourself, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you were hugging your own form. You relaxed your mind, only allowing images of the healing process of a cut to manifest in your thoughts, directing those images at the cut on your arm. As you imagined it, you could feel a slight tingling sensation overcome the cut, nearly making you lose your concentration as you desperately wanted to take a peek at your skin to see the progress you had made.

The moment you reached the end of the healing process within your head, you felt as though your arm no longer tingled, and a pleasant feeling of peace overcame you.

Opening up your eyes, you grinned when you saw that the cut had completely healed. There wasn't even a scar left behind, and none would be the wiser that an injury had even been there in the first place.

You were rather proud of yourself, even if it was just a very minor accomplishment. In your book, it was a step forwards, no matter how small the step.

Deciding to take a break — you didn't think your brain could handle any more science studies for a day — you headed to your living room to plop your ass down onto your couch and turned on the television. You never cared for the news very much, but considering the line of work you were heading into, it wouldn't hurt to pay attention to the mainstream heroes that made live appearances. You could get a bit of dirt on them.

Yet, you couldn't really concentrate on the television; it sounded like a bunch of gibberish to you for the time being.

Instead, you thought back to when you first obtained the Cell Manipulation quirk. Abyss had brought back a few memories by elaborating on the quirk's original owner.

Nakama Yoshiyuki. Yeah, you remembered him. Somewhat, at the very least. It wasn't his name that you had bothered to memorize, but who he was as a person.

When your phone rang, displaying an unknown called ID, you immediately assumed it to be Kairo. You had been waiting for an update about a favour you had hired him for. Upon picking up, your suspicions had been correct as you heard the familiar, robotic voice he always put forward.

"Kai, did you find me a guy?" You asked.

"Yes. Well, somewhat," he answered.

"Somewhat? What'd'you mean by that?" You asked, narrowing your eyes.

"I know you've specifically asked for me to find you a user with a shapeshifting quirk in your vicinity. I did find somebody, but..." he trailed off.

"But...?" You pressed.

Kairo sighed. "There's this girl with a shifting ability near you. By drinking the blood of a person, she can transform into that person. However, she's a child, only being fourteen years old, and I know how you would rather avoid going after children."

You grit your teeth. "Damn it, Kairo. I really need this damn quirk for some garbage mission Astarot and I were hired for. Is she the only option?"

"Well, for a shapeshifting quirk precisely, yes," he said. "However, there might be another solution."

"Which is?" You pressed again.

"I found data on a man in his mid-forties named Nakama Yoshiyuki. He has a quirk that allows him to manipulate the cellular structure of any organism. It's a very versatile quirk. Now, I'm not sure just how well he knows to make use of his quirk, but the power could extend to manipulating plants, healing, cellular disintegration, and shapeshifting to some degree."

You perked up, finding the information to be of interest. "Go, on."

"Right. I've done a bit of digging on this man, and I think that you'll find my discoveries to be quite interesting. I will confidently say that Yoshiyuki is a predator. Exploring his computer and web browser, I've discovered rather gross conversations he's exchanged with underage girls. He seems to be passing off as a teenager to lure them on social media," he explained.

"Really now? Well, I don't think it'll be a big loss if he were to conveniently disappear, huh?" You mused.

Kairo hummed. Although he did try to remain as neutral as possible when on the job, you knew that Kairo agreed with you. Even villains had limits when it came to the gross behaviours of others.

"Okay, then," you said. "Send me his details and a picture of him."

"Of course," he said. "I'm sending the details to your number right away. Please take note of them, our conversations will be wiped from the face of the earth shortly after."

Your phone vibrated, and you removed the device from your ear to take a quick look at the message to confirm that you had properly received the details. You opened it up to find a list of personal information about the man, from his address to pictures of him. It was convenient enough that he was located in a neighbouring prefecture.

You pressed your phone back to your ear. "Got it. Thanks, Kairo."

"Of course. Happy hunting, (Y/N)."

Happy hunting indeed.

You pursed your lips, puffing out dark grey smoke into the shape of a large ring, followed by smaller rings that all fit into one another. Cupping your hands, you puffed out a heavy cloud that lingered onto your hands as you let it gather. Afterwards, you quickly raised a hand towards the ceiling, encouraging the smoke to rise into a small tornado.

They were some fun little tricks you could do with the smoke aspect of the Volcanic quirk. Back when you were teens, Kaji had taught you those tricks when you'd both been bored out of your minds.

In those forms, the smoke looked rather pretty, almost therapeutic in a way. It seemed rather harmless.

Yet, it was what had murdered Yoshiyuki.

You had nearly fallen asleep on the branch you had chosen to perch yourself on to spy on Yoshiyuki's house. Not the brightest idea on your part, as you would have plummeted to the ground in an instance, considering you hadn't tied yourself to the tree.

It was rather late, the stars and the dim street lamps were the only sources of light illuminating your field of vision. The lights of Yoshiyuki's home were all on, though what stopped you from making a move was the fact that you had seen two distinct silhouettes within the home, and you would rather have the older man alone to take care of him.

You yawned, eyes growing heavier by the second; you were growing bored.

It took a good few minutes before you perked up, hearing a door open up. Darting your eyes in the direction of the noise, you were relieved to see that it was Yoshiyuki's front door that had opened. However, rain poured on your parade when you noticed that neither of the two people stepping onto the front porch was your target.

You were looking at two teenagers. One young girl who looked no older than fourteen-years old. The other was a young boy, looking to be possibly sixteen. You sighed as you watched the boy pull the girl into a deep kiss before they separated and bid each other goodnight. The girl then skipped off down the street, probably heading back home.

You were about to hop off your branch and head home for the night, thinking that Yoshiyuki just wasn't home for the time being. However, you froze in your steps when you noticed the teenage boy's appearance shift. You saw his black hair slowly turn a shade of dirty blonde, with some strands of grey. You watched as his facial features rapidly aged — the sudden maturity and slight wrinkles that appeared on his face were immediate. You couldn't quite tell the colour of his eyes, but what was once a light colour had darkened.

"Oh, well, I'll be damned," you muttered.

Now, the 'young boy' did match the pictures of Yoshiyuki.

As you took in the situation at hand, your eyes narrowed as your brows furrowed, causing your forehead to wrinkle a bit. You swore your stomach churned as you felt disgusted. It seemed like the man of the hour was using his quirk to his advantage to physically pass off as a teenager in real life, giving him the opportunity to indulge in his disgusting fantasies, all the while passing under the radar of the law.

It was fucking gross. Where were the heroes when you needed them? While they were all focused on the big, flashy villains out to fuck shit up, so much bullshit went unnoticed. To reiterate what you had told Kairo before: truly, it would not be a loss if this man were to go.

You waited a little while longer, waiting for the man to head off to bed. When you saw him through his bedroom window and the lights went off, you waited some more. After all, you wanted to make sure he was asleep before you put your plan into action.

You hopped off the branch, slinging your bag over your shoulder before making your way to the front door. You reached into your bag, pulling out a pouch that was, in reality, a tool set for lock picking.

You kneeled to be of eye level with the lock. The first step was to grab a binding wrench, which you inserted into the bottom of the key way and applied very light pressure to the plug. Next, you grabbed a small rake tool, which you inserted all the way into the back of the lock and raised your tool to raise the pins inside the lock. Picking up some speed, you scrubbed the pins, varying the height, speed and angle of your pick.

It didn't take more than ten seconds for the lock to click open.

You grinned, putting away your tools before heading inside the house as silently as you could. You gently closed the door behind you, and based off your understanding of the location of Yoshiyuki's bedroom window, you navigated upstairs to where you assumed his bedroom to be.

And when you found it, you creaked the door open, happy to find the older man to be sleeping. You wanted to avoid making a huge mess, therefore, you figured smoke inhalation would be a decent way to execute him.

You opened up your mouth, making sure the door wasn't open all the way to disallow smoke from exiting the room as much as possible. Then, you puffed out as much smoke as you could, and you knew just how deadly that smoke of yours could be. It was, after all, volcanic smog — or vog — and the quantity of toxic gases it contained could put someone out rather quickly.

Your lungs began to burn, and your throat itched beyond irritation. Before you pushed past your limits, you ceased your smoke attack, watching in satisfaction as the room was completely obscured in a dark grey cloud of nauseous gases.

You closed the door, pressing your body against the door to block off the possibility of him escaping. There was the window in his room that worried you a little bit; you'd have to go the messy route if he tried to escape through there.

After half a minute, you heard Yoshiyuki erupt into a coughing fit. His bed creaked as you assumed that he had shot up from his sleep. You heard him attempt to take a deep gulp of air, only to spurt more loud, raspy coughs. You heard a noise that resembled the pounding of a fist against a chest.

"W-What th—" He couldn't finish his sentence, as the only thing that could escape him were more coughs.

You couldn't help but crack a sinister grin. You didn't tend to go out of your way to murder others, nor did you take some sadistic pleasure in doing so. Sure, you were desensitized to it, and your feelings remained neutral about the action. You had no issues doing it, need it be. However, there was something so satisfying during that moment: killing off someone as gross as this, getting rid of someone that even a hero hadn't caught onto his shit behaviour.

You almost felt like a hero. Almost.

You heard the thud of a body hitting the ground, followed by sounds of dragging of the same body on the floor. More gasps, gags and coughs were heard. He was beyond disoriented, most likely not thinking clearly. Hell, he probably couldn't even think at this point. You couldn't blame him. After all, he had suddenly woken up to a room full of dangerous smoke after having already inhaled quite a bit in his slumber.

Until... nothing. You couldn't hear any more noise coming from the room. The deed was most likely done, but you still waited. Just in case.

After a good five minutes had passed, you assumed him to be dead. You opened up the door, and you were greeted with the remnants of the smoke. There wasn't a lot left, so it was more or less safe for yourself, though it had begun to spread through the house's vents.

Right at the foot of the door lied the body of Yoshiyuki — looks like he had tried to crawl to the exit. You prodded the body with your foot — no reaction. You kneeled down and placed your fingers on the man's pulse point, and there was no heartbeat to be found.

You dragged the man's body out of the room so that you could close the door and trap the remainder of the smoke. You then activated your quirk, summoning Abyss. The moment Abyss manifested, you could see a deep red ball of light hovering atop Yoshiyuki's body.

"Abyss," you said. "Do you mind collecting this soul for me?"

They bowed. "Of course."

Abyss began absorbing the soul, the former being directed towards the entity's hollowed hood until nothing more remained. The body visibly became much paler at the loss of its soul.

"The soul has been collected. You now have access to the Cell Manipulation quirk," they confirmed.

You nodded. "Great, thank you."

And with that, you casually walked out of the house, making way back to your own home as if you hadn't just taken a life. You didn't quite care; the scum wouldn't be missed. People like him didn't change, nor did they deserve redemption.

Good fucking riddance.

Word Count: 7322 Words

Original Publish Date: April 18th 2022

~~~~~~

Heyo! I'm so sorry again for the big gap between updates. Then again, I did give a warning that they'd be slow, so...

But, long story short, I've got motivation lately due to my sleep schedule being a bit better as well as my mental health. Plus, my boss gave me a normal schedule, finally, so I'm a bit more stable in my days off.

So, we finally get a bit more interaction between canon characters and the reader! I feel a little bad putting so much focus on my OCs, but with the positive reception they've been getting, it definitely gives me a bit of a confidence boost in having them around. I do feel like it makes the story much more personal and unique to me with them around, for sure.

Also, I hope that the slow pacing isn't annoying others too much. I personally love taking things slow, but I understand if it's frustrating to others to read. Though, I promise this: next chapter will include interaction between the reader and some main, non-villain cast. Plus, we'll finally dip our toes into canon. Yay!

Shigs and reader... they don't really like each other, huh? Well, it'll be like that for a while. Like, they'll start being on acceptable terms at, like, the USJ thing. Having a good relationship will have to wait until Shigaraki's character growth that happens at the beginning of season three, but I'm so excited to develop their relationship. Enemies to friends trope, anyone?

(Don't mind me; I'm just casually waving an Astarot X Reader flag in my little corner.)

Anyways, my next focus will be to get the first official chapter of 'Scandals' out, so stay tuned for that if you're also following that story.

See you next time!

~ Britt

You lived in a society where heroes were seen as gods walking amongst weak mortals - the slightest opposition to them was met with incredulity, mistrust and even disgust. People like you tended to be marginalized, and all in a world where - if you weren't seen as a weak civilian in need of protection - you were classified as either a hero that could do no wrong or the worst scum of them all: a villain.

It was all black and white; the option of standing in a grey area didn't even exist.

It all had to change. But who would listen? Who would believe you if you stepped forward with accusations of horrendous acts committed by some of the world's favourite heroes?

Sure, maybe in another lifetime or in an alternate universe, you could have been better; you could have grown up to show that you were better than he had been to you, and everyone else of your entourage.

But in the end, the path you had chosen, and the slippery slope you were inevitably sliding down by going from a petty and bitter crook to a villain and terrorist in the making - it didn't bother you in the slightest.

You had no remorse, and sometimes, brute force was the best way to catch the attention of the masses and prove a point, wasn't it?

Besides, at this point, you were beyond redemption where you had hit the point of no return. You had already damned yourself further by embarking on the road to villainy.

It didn't matter to you; you had found your purpose in life, and you'd stop at nothing to achieve your goals. The path you took to achieve them was irrelevant so long as you won in the end, even if it meant going down the most monstrous of paths. Sacrifices would have to be made, traitorism would undoubtedly break hearts, and immoral and godless acts would be committed, but that was all noise to you; the prize at the end of the line was all you could see.

But, it wasn't like you could write out your true feelings on the matter.

Pressing the back of your pen to your cheek, you thought hard of something acceptable, trying to put yourself in the shoes of a young, naive child whose eyes lit up with adoration at the sight of big, strong heroes. If you were one of them, someone who wanted to follow in the footsteps of some of today's biggest names, what would you be compelled to say when someone would ask you that question.

Why do you want to be a hero?

As you closed your eyes, your mind wandered back to your childhood, much to your dismay. It was a period that you'd rather make a hasty exit from your brain, but it still remained. But, during that time, when you'd been a naive, undamaged little purity, you wanted to be just like the heroes you saw on TV.

" Mama look! He beat up those stupid villains like they were nothing! He's the best... I wanna be just like him when I grow up!"

"Oh? Is that so? I'm sure he'd be happy to hear that."

"Yeah! When I finally get my quirk, I'm gonna become like him and make the world a better place and help tons of people!"

With a sigh, you brought your pen to the sheet and scribbled down your 'reasoning'. Once finished, you set the pen down, nodding in satisfaction at the believable motivation.

'I want to make the world a better place' is what you had written. It was simple, but it was what one would expect from a wannabe hero.

And, it wasn't a complete lie, now wasn't it? You did want to do just that, but they didn't need to know the sense you meant. Everybody had a different definition of what a better world would constitute, but you assumed that U.A wouldn't even question it. To them, it'd be like any other teen who had dreams of getting into heroics, and by extension, beating villains.

Villains like yourself.

Funny how the goal you had once set for yourself as a young child - bettering the world - was the same goal as you had in mind today, yet it was so much more different and complex

Now, you'd only have to write down your personal information, which you'd need Kairo's help to do so. You wanted his opinion on how you should proceed with your legal information.

You supposed that in the 'Middle School' section, you could write down that you were homeschooled. Again, not a lie, though your home education had ended quite some time ago. Progress was being made, at the very least.

And what about your address? Would it be much too risky of a move on your part to write your real address? But if you wrote a fake one, you had a feeling that you'd be quickly raising some eyebrows. Plus, it wasn't like you could just jot down the League's bar hideout location; you may as well just hand yourselves in with gift bows atop your heads if you did that.

In the end, you figured that the only viable option was your real address. After all, should anything go sour, you had other locations where you could lie low: the bar or Kaji's place.

Though, you'd be careful to not let things escalate to that point - not until your mission was completed and victory secured.

You glanced at your phone, sighing as you felt your impatience grow even though it had only been a mere fifteen minutes since you left a message to Kairo. You just wanted to get it over with, and you were quite frankly bored; there wasn't much to do in your apartment, hence why you were out occupying yourself most of the time.

You leaned back, trying to melt into your sofa's cushions as you glanced at your front door, pondering if you should go bother your next-door neighbour for some entertainment.

Maybe he had some leftover booze, though he usually came to you for that while he provided the grass. Shit - you'd be down to just get out of this musky place and have him accompany you so that you could raise hell and set fire to the sky or something along those lines.

But you were prideful, and there was no way in hell you'd drag your ass to his door and pitifully ask him to quell your boredom. You'd never hear the end of it from him.

Then there was Eichi in the apartment just above yours; he'd be excessively enthusiastic about keeping you company, though that idea was quickly scrapped as you didn't have the mental capacity to deal with him right away. You were much too sober; you'd get back to him when you had a couple of drinks in your system.

Drumming your fingers atop your thigh, your brain scrambled to find something that would make the wait less long. A nap, perhaps? That'd make time fly, and you were feeling a little light-headed after that deal you'd made with Abyss; it had been a little while since you switched out your quirks, after all.

Not bothering to make way to your bedroom, you shifted to lie down onto the couch, trying to get as comfortable as the cheap cushions would allow. You'd count on your ringtone to wake you up, and you knew that it would as you were a rather light sleeper.

You stared up at the ceiling; your apartment was ridiculously quiet asides from the wall-mounted clock's ticking. You were second-guessing your decision for a nap. You wanted to get some rest, but you could feel the uneasy feeling settling within your chest.

You sighed, clenching your eyes shut; your rigid posture and scrunched expression showed the very opposite of 'relaxed'. Maybe you should have kept the Dreamless quirk; it'd be the first time in quite some time that you'd attempt to sleep without it, and the anxiety it brought you was immediate.

And without that quirk, sleep was unpredictable. Maybe you'd have a perfectly normal rest, but more often than not, things went sour.

Still, you eventually willed yourself to simmer down, clearing your mind and loosening up as you went through some typical breathing exercises to quell your anxiety.

Despite the lingering fear, you eventually began to drift off.

~~~~~~

You were still in your apartment when your eyes fluttered open. Your eyelids felt heavy, and getting your body to flip back to a seating position felt like the most arduous task, but you had mustered the strength to do so nonetheless.

Your living room had darkened; how long had you been out for? Was it already after dark hours? Sudden panic shot through you as you realized that you may have missed Kairo's reply.

Quickly, your hand shot towards the table to grab your ph- where was it? Why wasn't your phone right on the coffee table where you had left it before dozing off?

Damn, did you sleepwalk and misplace it? Though, it didn't feel right. In fact, everything felt off.

Your eyes darted around your apartment, trying to catch a glimpse of the device. You didn't see it, but what you did see was how frost had slowly begun to cover your window, which wouldn't have alarmed you during the winter months. However, it wasn't winter, and you now knew exactly what was going on.

You were dreaming, and you had to get out of this room right this instant.

You sprang to your feet, hurriedly heading for your front door; cold sweat had begun trickling down your forehead, knowing what was coming: a cruel game of cat and mouse in a twisted dreamland that you were sure was exclusive to you.

When you pulled the front door open, you weren't greeted with your building's hallway as you normally would, you instead found yourself in a dimly-lit room, only illuminated by a flimsy bulb hanging from the ceiling. Though it wasn't quite bright and flickered occasionally, it was just enough for you to take in your surroundings. The walls were humid and rotten, and two doors stood in front of you: a yellow one and a black door.

You immediately headed for the yellow door - the brighter the colour, the better it'd be for you; you remembered that particular detail.

The next room was similar, except the doors differed in colours: red and blue. You chose red.

You quickly navigated through the seemingly never-ending loop of doors and empty rooms. As long as you kept moving forward, never going back on your steps and avoiding any obstacles, you'd be okay; you'd make it to the end of this bullshit and be rewarded with a peaceful slumber - all you had to do was find the white door.

You stopped in your tracks, cursing when you were forced to pick between a navy door, and a burgundy door - both dark colours. Not having much time to mull it over, you picked the burgundy door, and you immediately regretted it, noticing how narrow the following hallway was. You could barely squeeze yourself through it, and you sincerely contemplated walking back and facing the consequences it'd bring.

You swallowed down your nerves and squeezed through the hallway; both your backside and chest were firmly planted against the walls. There was room to do nothing other than awkwardly shuffle sideways, hoping you'd reach the end soon.

You could hear your heart pumping in your own ears, and you had to remind yourself to breathe properly as you felt excessively short of breath from the minimal space you had to even intake oxygen.

It was making you dizzy and nauseated, and you could feel the fear of harm and illness bubbling in your chest. Confined areas, not having room to move, feeling trapped and contained - you couldn't fucking stand it.

You yelped when, upon trying to take a deep breath, the hallways closed in just a bit more. It wasn't by a whole lot, but it was just enough to hurt your ribs and chest, disallowing you from breathing properly.

You coughed from the way your breathing had been suddenly cut off, though the erratic coughs only hurt you further due to the tight confines.

After that, your shuffling became more frantic, desperate to quickly reach the end before the walls decided to crush you further. You were barely breathing, only intaking short and rapid breaths that borderlined hyperventilation. When you finally made it to the end, you could barely fit through the gap, with it being even smaller than when you had first entered.

You managed to force your body out of the crevice, the force you used sent you plummeting to the ground, landing with a loud thud and a groan, but also a slight sigh of relief that was rather short-lived. Your ribs hurt from being crushed, and the worn brick had scraped at your arms and legs when you had squeezed your way out.

You took a brief moment to collect yourself, but when your breath became visible from the sudden frigid air, you figured that you didn't have time to dwell on it. You sprang up and walked through the green-coloured door - not that you were given a choice, as it was the only door of that room.

The next room wasn't as bad, you thought. Eerie was a word you could use to describe it, however, despite it being well-lit. On the walls hung many portraits of various people - people that you had seen at some point in your life.

They were the faces of the people whose lives you had taken throughout the years.

Each portrait had a small plate right underneath it, as if being a sort of homage you'd see on a tombstone. You could make out their names, the date on which they were born as well as the date of their death. In smaller print, it was indicated how they had died - how you had killed them.

The more you looked at the portraits, the more your hairs stood on end; you couldn't shake the feeling of their judgment and hatred in regards to you. It was godawful, and all of their eyes were conveniently directed towards you to amplify those thoughts.

You had enough, and you wanted out; you didn't want to dwell here - didn't want to face the grim reality of your past actions head-on. Not today, not ever.

But where was the door?

Your eyes widened when you noticed that there was no door for you to exit. You had to be missing something, but there wasn't a single door on either side of the room, or in front of you.

You shot a quick glance behind you, and that's when you noticed that there was only a brick wall filled with more portraits; the way you came from was no longer existent.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered, as you frantically looked all around you. You were growing desperate, especially when the room slowly began to rot.

You couldn't stay put. During your childhood, you had learned the hard way to keep moving; there was this unseen thing that perpetually chased you, forcing you to move forward. It prevented you from cementing yourself within one room to avoid any kind of unwelcomed confrontation further into the realm.

Being caught by it was not an option. You couldn't stay put.

With every blink, the portraits seemed to change shapes and sizes, the people portrayed in them progressively becoming disfigured, looking like rotting corpses. It was all making you go insane.

"Let me out," you said, breathing heavily before screaming at the top of your lungs, "LET ME OUT!"

You barely had the time to dive out of the way as numerous frames violently flew off the wall, shattering as they hit the opposite wall, though, to your relief, there was a door that had been hiding underneath.

Though, you barely acknowledged the pitch black colour of the door - not until you saw what awaited on the other side. Black doors usually led to some type of confrontation with restless and angry spirits, you remembered, and this was no different.

The moment you walked into the room, the many wraiths - which looked similar to Abyss - that had been aimlessly wandering about, all turned their attention to you, letting out the loudest, earsplitting screeches you had ever heard. After all, they were after you; you were the reason that they were stuck in this realm.

They were the lost souls you collected with your quirk - they were all trapped in this world, damned to the confines of this place . They would never be able to be put to rest, never be able to cross over, and all because of you .

Safe to say that they had it out for you.

You'd have to fight your way through the room or run as fast as you could, and you could make out your saving grace on the other side: the white door.

You silently thanked whatever god out there decided to have pity on you, assigning you a short trip throughout this bullshit realm. If you made it to the door, you'd be able to enjoy the rest of your nap in peace, without a care in the world.

Despite the pains shooting through your body, you booked it, breaking into a sprint to reach the other side. The spirits did the same; all were gunning for you, and although you would have rather gone through the room without fighting, it'd be necessary to defend yourself.

You had Cell Manipulation on hand, but you didn't quite yet know how to make use of it on things other than yourself - not that you were well-versed in the quirk in the first place - and did spirits even have cells to manipulate?

But thankfully, you had Volcanic. The quirk allowed you to become a human volcano with lava, smoke, ashes and eruptions at your disposal. You were confident with that quirk, being one of your original 'borrowed' quirks, so you had experience using it.

Rubbing your hands together, you felt them warm up, becoming a deep red in colour as the quirk activated. The moment a spirit dived for you, you swung your hand, letting loose a thick stream of searing lava. Your aim had been perfect, the spirit screeching as the substance hit it, causing it to swerve away from your to recover from the hole you had literally burned through it.

While distracted, another one darted towards you, and you didn't quite perfectly dodge it. Your steps faltered as pain shot through your cheek; it had managed to dig its bony hands into your skin and scratched you.

You puffed out a dark grey cloud of smoke, hoping that it would obscure you and slow the spirits down, though it seemed to be in vain; they still chased you through the smoke, not at all being affected. It seemed that their senses were much stronger than you remembered.

You slowed down as you felt yourself being surrounded, able to make out their figures amidst the cloud.

"Damn it!" You said.

Bad move on your part to have slowed as you were tripped, falling to the floor and hitting your head as you felt something yank on your ankles. The grip was iron-like, and you could feel its fingers digging into your skin.

A spirit had begun violently dragging you, causing you to attempt throwing some lava at the creature, though your hazy mind from the mild head injury along with the sporadic movement had affected your accuracy; you weren't hitting it at all.

Another spirit decided to meddle, holding you by the wrists, and you groaned as both creatures engaged in a game of tug-of-war with your body. You could feel and hear your body's protests through the cracking noises of your bones.

Frantically, you twisted your hands, wrapping your fingers around the spirit's arms. Lava seeped through your digits, and the spirit that had been holding onto your wrists wailed and retreated.

With your previous confusion going away, you threw a good stream of lava at the spirit dragging you by the ankles, eventually hitting its face.

It seemed painful enough; it screeched loudly as it held its face while floating away, leaving you a bruised mess on the floor. Still, you pushed yourself up, running to the exit once again, though this time, your sprint had drastically slowed down due to a limp in your step.

You gritted your teeth; everything fucking hurt, and more of those fucking things were catching up to you. Even your hands had started to burn since you hadn't turned off the quirk, so your hands had begun overheating.

In a desperate move, you turned around and began channelling every aspect of the volcanic quirk: lava, smoke, and ashes. This would most likely have some consequences on your wellbeing, but to hell with it at this point.

You crouched, putting both your hands on the floor, your body glowing red as you gathered energy. You waited for the spirits to get close enough; you'd release an eruption at just the right moment.

And when it came, you let your power go. A loud, deafening bang resonated, as the ground in front of you violently erupted into a mess of rocks, lava, smoke and volcanic ashes. The various components all hit the spirits that had surrounded you, and you took that opportunity to book it.

The white door was so goddamn close; you were going to make it!

You reached your hand out, nearly diving for the exit. You were a centimetre away from grazing the knob.

But you fell to the floor as the door was no longer right in front of you.

You watched in horror as the room seemingly extended in length at the speed of light, causing the door to distance itself from you. You swore you could hear the mocking laughter of the spirits.

"Please, no..." you pleaded. It was quite pathetic, coming from you.

You wobbled back to your feet, trying to the best of your abilities to run after the door, but you were frozen in your tracks. It felt as though something had grabbed you by the shoulders, putting all of its weight on you.

Looking back, you didn't see any spirits. In fact, you weren't even in the same room as you had been a split-second ago. Glancing back in front of you, the white door was no longer to be seen. You were in a small, doorless room; it was rotten and smelled rancid - like mothballs, rotting meat and feces.

You hadn't been fast enough, and the 'pursuer' had caught up to you.

Your eyes widened, hands shooting to your throat to claw at the skin. You hacked and gagged as you felt the heaviest pressure, and while you couldn't see anything in the room, it sure felt like two, distinct hands were wrapped around your throat.

Your eyes began rolling back, as your frantic clawing died down. They won this round, it would seem.

~~~~~~

You shot up from your couch, holding your chest as you went into a violent coughing fit. It was bad; you could barely get a steady breath in, and every cough burned your lungs and sent sharp pain to your ribs.

You managed to stand, making a beeline for your bathroom. You didn't bother kneeling in front of the toilet, promptly vomiting in your sink. Shit, was that a bit of blood in there?

It took a few seconds, but you eventually managed to calm down, breathing heavily as you composed yourself, though your heart still pounded out of control.

You quickly washed your sink before taking a good look at yourself. You looked like you had crawled through a war zone, and you did, though in a different reality.

Your throat was covered in large, hand-shaped bruises, showing signs of strangulation. Your face held the claw marks of that spirit that scratched you, and upon further inspection, your wrists and ankles had faint bruises and lacerations. Although you couldn't find any visible marks on your ribs, they still hurt like a bitch, probably from that wall that had closed in on you. Your back didn't feel great either, and that headache you were feeling was splitting.

You grabbed some painkillers and a cup from your cabinet, downing the medication in hopes of it diminishing the pain.

With a sigh, you headed back to your living room. This time, your phone was in its rightful spot on the coffee table, and upon looking at it, you concluded that only twenty-five minutes had passed.

You groaned, sitting down and putting your face in your hands. You had really gotten rusty, huh? Before you had the Dreamless quirk, you dealt with that realm so often that you had gotten quite decent at navigating it. You made it to the white door every once in a while.

Of course, it was unpredictable. It was rarely the same rodeo every time you were thrown there, so having experience didn't necessarily guarantee you'd make it to the exit. Crazy to think that the nightmare you just had wasn't even the worst it could get; it was actually rather tame.

You remembered the first time you had been thrown into one of those nightmares; you were barely five years old. Not only were you just discovering the world, not knowing all of the details, but you were also weak, so you've had your fair share of beatdowns and traumatic experiences whilst asleep.

It had led to a serious fear of sleep. Even today, you struggled with the concept of going to bed.

"I don't wanna go to bed," you hiccuped, sobbing helplessly as Abyss sombrely stared down at you.

"We know, but you must. Your body needs rest," they said.

"B-but what's the point of trying if I'm gonna wake up because the monsters get to me?" You argued.

"You will get stronger, you will learn about the realm, and that will help you along the lines," Abyss said.

"I don't wanna get hurt anymore! I'm already hurting in this world, I-I don't want this while I'm sleeping too!" You cried.

"We know..."

"P-Please, can't you come with me? I don't wanna be alone."

"We're afraid that we can not," they said, seemingly disappointed by that very fact.

"Abyss... why do the monsters hurt me?"

They sighed. "They are angry. They can not leave the realm, and they never will. Spirits that linger far too long without rest turn to violence; all they can fathom is revenge."

"B-But I didn't want to hurt them, a-and I didn't know that they would still hurt after. I didn't mean it!" You cried, curling in on yourself.

"We know. It is difficult, but you are strong, and you will find your way. We know you will."

You had collected the quirk Dreamless when you had finished off a street thug that had been harassing you. It was a quirk that was so useless, so much so that the man himself had thought to be quirkless his entire life. It prevented its wielder from dreaming, as the name implied. Useless under normal circumstances, but for someone like you, it was a godsend, an actual protector against the drawbacks of Dead Man's Dealings.

Your quirk was powerful, but with great power comes great bullshit. Was that how the saying went?

Shit, you really were second-guessing your decision of trading in the quirk, and you were thinking of taking it back, but making another deal to get the quirk back in such a short lapse of time would have some nasty consequences on your health; you had learned the hard way to avoid greed when it came to your quirk.

Besides, you needed to get your body used to Cell Manipulation ; it was more important, you told yourself. You could live without Dreamless for the time being. You wouldn't like it, but you could deal with it. You'd get the quirk back eventually if it became too much, once in a while.

Maybe you could use your nightmares as some type of twisted training session - toughen yourself up even while in your sleep. You had to look on the bright side of things, right?

You would really have to train yourself to either be able to take in more than two extra quirks or make multiple deals quickly. It'd save you so much hassle.

Maybe you could get Kaji to train with you at some point.

But that'd be for another day. For now, what you truly needed was a good pick-me-up to quell your anxiety. Thinking back to your next-door neighbour, you ultimately decided to let your pride down and pay him a visit.

You stood up, heading to your kitchen and checking your cabinets, on the hunt for some leftover booze you could bring. Luckily, you still had a half-full bottle of whisky.

You pocketed your phone and headed out with the alcohol in hand. You knocked at your neighbour's door and waited. A few seconds passed, and your foot tapped impatiently. Maybe he wasn't home. After all, he liked going out to entertain himself, much as you did.

Though, you perked up when you heard footsteps coming from inside the apartment, getting mildly louder as they approached the door before coming to a stop. You assumed he was looking through the eyehole, making sure it wasn't any sketchy asshole; this was a bad neighbourhood, after all.

Finally, the door creaked open, and you were hit with a familiar smoky scent, combined with a rather musky smell of burnt flesh that tended to stick to him no matter what he did to rid the smell. Messy and spiky black hair combined with piercing blue eyes made for a good-looking guy, despite the many patches of discoloured scars and staples barely holding the man together.

You lazily held up the bottle, sloshing the liquid within the bottle for emphasis. "Got some weed?"

He raised a brow, lips stretching into his signature smirk; his eyes held bemusement about seeing you at his front door.

"Didn't think I'd see you at my doorstep, angel. I'm usually the one to let myself into your place," he said in a low and scratchy voice.

"Yeah, and you should really stop that shit. 'Specially when I'm not even home, you fucking cabinet raider," you said.

"Where's the fun in that?" He asked, stepping to the side and letting you come in.

"Eichi's already fucking weird about breaking into my place, I don't need you hopping on the bandwagon, Dabi," you said, flopping onto his dusty couch. His apartment was in even crappier condition than yours.

You placed the bottle down on his table, right next to his ashtray and small weed bags.

"The kid upstairs with the shit-lookin' stitches on his face?" He asked.

"You're one to talk," you scoffed.

He placed his palm over his heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch. Got me there. Didn't mean to insult your boyfriend."

"Let's not even go there, 'kay?" You shot him a glare.

"Mhm. Sure."

Dabi sat next to you; he didn't bother getting some glasses, grabbing the bottle and drinking straight from it like a heathen. Wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, he handed you the bottle for you to take a swig, which you did.

"So, the hell happened to you? You look like fuckin' shit," he said as he began rolling a blunt. "Get into a fight again?"

"You can say that. Gotta hand it to them: they were pretty tough, but their damage is worse," you said with a shrug.

A lie on your part, though it could be debatable. Was the spirits' damage worse than yours, considering that you had caused their deaths? Lie or not, Dabi didn't question it, just offering a little hum of acknowledgement and a nod.

Dabi was an asshole, you could say that much, but his company was decent. He didn't ask too many questions, nor did he question the morality of your actions. He was, after all, just as shitty of a person as you were.

In the end, you didn't know much about each other; at least, not on a deep level, but you still got along. You had wordlessly come to a mutual agreement that you were beneficial to one another.

"Here," he said, handing you the joint.

You muttered your thanks and brought it to your lips as he lit it up with a small blue flame from the tip of his index finger - such a classy move that fire wielders like himself and Kaji could do.

You inhaled the smoke, keeping it in your lungs for a second before exhaling it. It didn't taste like shit quality weed, but it wasn't horrendous either - just ordinary. Nonetheless, you hoped the buzz would kick in soon. Dabi held his hand out, and you took it as your cue to hand him the blunt.

"So," he started before taking a hit, "The hell was up with the screaming comin' from you?"

"Huh?"

"Was hearin' you scream. The walls here are kinda thin, yeah? Wasn't sure if you were gettin' the fuck of a lifetime or if you were getting murdered. I almost felt like checking up on you. Almost," he explained, leaning back into the cushions while lazily glancing at you from his peripheral vision.

"Didn't take you for the caring type," you said, avoiding his question.

"Oh, I'm not," he smirked, taking another drag, "Can't have anything happening to my easy access to free drinks, you know?"

You clicked your tongue. "It was nothing."

You would rather die than admit to him that you had bad nightmares that prevented you from functioning.

He cocked his head to the side. "That didn't sound like nothing, but sure, whatever helps you sleep at night."

You swore your eye twitched at that. The fucking irony.

"Look, it was just a drawback of my quirk acting up, that's all," you said, trying to remain as vague as possible.

Dabi turned to fully look at you, nodding after a brief moment. You caught him glancing at his scarred arm, and you figured he could relate to that. He, too, had a quirk with devastating effects on his own body, and he had the scars to prove it.

You had so many questions about him. You often wondered where he came from, what his story was. Did his scars hurt? What did it feel like when he used his quirk? He was such a composed and reclusive person that it was difficult to piece things together. He was an enigma, and while you typically didn't care to know about others deeper than a surface glance, you were intrigued by Dabi.

You sometimes wondered if he was left with similar questions about you when you hung out.

After a few rounds of drags and sips of alcohol, you were both high as a duo of kites. You'd definitely loosened up; your nightmare had become a distant thought as you both giggled and laughed like morons at the expanse of shitty heroes.

He seemed to have quite the hatred for Endeavor, you noted. Interesting - not that you blamed him. That 'hero' didn't even try to hide the fact that he was a piece of shit in public.

"What hero do you hate the most? I'll admit that I'm kind of curious," Dabi asked.

"Fucking Polonium," you answered without skipping a beat.

"The Radiation Hero? Isn't he dead?"

"Don't care that he is. I'd go to hell to fucking throw down with him there. Piece of shit deserved his fate," you answered with venom.

Dabi's eyes shined with interest at the newfound information. "Sounds like it's personal. Am I right?"

"I don't know... does your beef with Endeavor stem from something personal?" You countered.

"I don't know," he replied, mocking the fact that you kept your answers vague, often avoiding the questions entirely.

You scoffed, though a slight smile stretched at your lips as you shook your head. Two fucking assholes hanging together - what a sight.

You suddenly felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, signalling that you had a new message. Your attention immediately shifted as you hurriedly pulled it out. It was the message you had been waiting for - from Kairo.

" Musutafu, block 39, 5th building. Meet me there."

You were to meet him there? That was a first; you had never met Kairo in person. You didn't even know what the guy looked like; you wondered what brought on the desire to meet in person.

"On my way," you quickly replied before standing up.

"Gotta go," you said.

He pouted. "Leaving me so soon? Shame."

"Oh, shut it, Dabi. I've got some important business," you said.

"Oh?" He pressed, pressing his cheek against his palm. "What kind of 'important business'?"

"Not sure how much I can say, but let's just say that we're finally taking some steps into throwing hero society to the ground," you grinned.

"Well, isn't that a thrill?" Dabi smirked. "Think you're gonna change the world, angel?"

You nodded. "I've got nothing to lose."

~~~~~~

You stood in front of the house, and looking back down at your phone, you concluded that it was definitely the right address. The house looked like shit, if you were being honest; did Kairo seriously live in this dumpster? You didn't think you could find a place worse off than your building, but lo and behold, you did.

It was a very small home that was shaped like an 'L' and made of white tiles, which were discoloured in quite a few areas from being so worn. The lawn hadn't been touched in ages; weeds had sprouted all over the place, and dried shrubs were lined at the foot of the house. The windows were so small that you didn't think much light could even get through them.

Overall, it looked like a place a serial killer would bring their victims.

You walked up the few wooden steps to the porch; the material was so old that you were sure you'd fall right through. As you stood on the porch, you caught a glimpse of a security camera observing you from your peripheral vision. You weren't really surprised, considering the type of guy Kairo seemed to be.

You raised your fist to knock, though you jumped in surprise when you heard a voice say: "It's open. You can let yourself in, but please lock the door on your way in."

You looked around, wondering where the voice had come from. From the camera, maybe? Like those doorbell ring cameras where you could speak to the people at your door. Still, you recognized Kairo's voice, so you shrugged and rolled with it.

Entering his home, you locked the door behind you as per his request. Messy was the first word that came to mind when you took in your surroundings. Messy yet... empty? You could only make out the bare minimum a human would need for survival, yet the place looked like it wasn't cleaned very often.

As you were looking around, a door creaked open and emerging from a room to join you was a man who looked to be in his early twenties. He wasn't the tallest, looking to be about five feet and six inches, and he was a rather slim guy, seemingly not having much muscle mass. He wore very casual and simple clothing: a black hoodie, a green turtleneck and some black jeans. Beneath his hoodie, you could see tufts of messy green hair that seemed rather unkempt and perhaps a smidgen greasy; he definitely looked the part of a stereotypical computer nerd that never left the comfort of his bedroom. From what you could tell, his skin was rather pale; the guy definitely never got out of the house.

But perhaps the aspect of his appearance that held your attention the most was his face. His face was a literal black screen, like a computer monitor. You knew that quirks could give people some rather funky physical features, but it threw you for a loop whenever you came across someone with such drastic altercations.

You blinked. "Are you... Kairo?"

He nodded. "Ah... yes, correct - that's me."

His voice gave you whiplash. It wasn't the first time that you heard his robotic voice, though you had always assumed that he used a voice changer. But no, that was his actual voice. Though you had to be frank, the way his tone shook - it sounded like he was nervous. Cute.

He awkwardly played with his messy tufts of hair. "Well, welcome to my home. It's... it's nice to finally formally meet you in um, in person."

"Likewise," you nodded.

He put his hands behind his back, cutely tilting his head to the side, and you stared in awe as two caret symbols displayed in the place where his eyes would be, while an underscore formed at the position of his mouth, forming a sort of happy emoticon. That was how he displayed facial expressions? Damn - that was kinda cute.

Suddenly, you were fucking intrigued by this guy, and you hadn't even seen him for more than a minute. You were highly interested in his biology. Did he pop out of the womb with a screen for a face? How did he even eat? Did he call 'going to bed' 'Sleep Mode' like a damn smartphone?

He perked up, an exclamation mark appearing on his screen. "Oh! I um..." he didn't finish his sentence, rushing to what seemed to be his kitchen. He had gestured for you to follow him.

He opened up his fridge, which was extremely empty - the emptiest fridge you had ever seen.

"Could I get you something? I've got..." he trailed off before pulling out a carton of juice, inspecting it. "Ah, no - that's expired," he muttered.

He put the juice back, closing up his fridge before standing rather stiffly and clearing his throat. "I apologize; I don't do this very often."

"I can tell," you said.

A few forward slashes appeared on his screen. Was that a blush? Oh, now that was fucking precious.

"It's fine, Kai. How about we just go straight to business?" You suggested, attempting to calm his nerves.

"Yes! That would be fantastic; follow me," he said, leading you to another room.

Entering the room, you saw stacks of papers piled up on desks and the floor, some being crumpled up in balls - probably from some scrapped ideas he had. Trash bins were overflowing with sheets. Many monitors hung around what seemed to be his main desk, and a large computer that seemed to be handmade rested on the floor, next to the monitors. The walls weren't decorated with typical paintings, but with some hand-scribbled plans for various contraptions that you didn't quite understand.

It was easy to see that Kairo was a rather chaotic person in his everyday life.

"Please, sit down," he said, sitting at his main desk while gesturing at another chair.

"So, what can I do for you?" Kairo asked.

"I need you to make some modifications to my legal documents. I'm talking about my birthday, last name, and probably even my legal guardian's name. Basically, I'm gonna need to pass off as a fifteen-year-old teen. Think you can do that?" You asked.

"Of course, I can!" He said. His tone had a slight burst of pride and confidence. He almost seemed a tad miffed at your questioning of his abilities.

"But, could I suggest my thoughts on the matter?" He asked, and you nodded at him to carry on. "In my humble opinion, it would be much more practical if we were to erase your current legal information, only to forge new ones, instead of bringing modifications to your current ones. Are you in agreement?"

You waved him off, half-assedly nodding. "You're the expert here, so go ahead."

"Great, great. Now, I'm assuming you don't want any ties to your birth parents, correct?" He asked.

You nodded.

"Here's my suggestion: Astarot and his siblings already have forged documents, including fake parent names that are legally marked as deceased - courtesy of myself, of course. The point is, I could forge a new document that would pass you off as a sibling, therefore integrating you into the mix," he suggested.

You blinked. "That's... actually a really good idea. I'm down with it."

"Isn't it though?" He gushed.

"Their fake surname... it's Aratashi, isn't it? So, my new surname would be that?" You asked.

"Correct!" He said. "Posing as a teenager, huh? What's the purpose of that, if you don't mind my asking."

"I'm needed to infiltrate U.A. Rumour has it that All Might's gonna teach there. My 'boss'," you air quoted, "wants me to gather info about All Might, the next generation of heroes and all the pros working there. We're working towards the fall of hero society," you answered truthfully.

You wouldn't go into too many details when Dabi asked, but you trusted Kairo.

He nodded. "I see, so that's what this is all about."

"Mhm. I've got a quirk for infiltration, so I'm the lucky girl that gets to be a mole."

He lit up. "Oh, right! Dead Man's Dealings, right? Such a rare and fascinating quirk, and let's not forget how multipurpose and unpredictable it is. I'm not one to fawn over quirks, but that is definitely a quirk that I'd love to study in-depth. And it was a mutation - where did it come from? It's somewhat similar to the infamous All For One, yet it's so different all the same, and-"

"You're rambling," you cut him off.

He yelped, blushing as he stuttered out an apology. A fascinating quirk, sure, but one that was so complex that you were still discovering things about it into adulthood.

"What gives, Kairo?" You suddenly asked.

"Ha? Clarification would be required."

"You've never met up with anyone in person. So, what's the occasion?" You asked.

"Well, you see," he mumbled while fidgeting with his sleeves. "It's pressure."

"Pressure?" You repeated.

"Mhm. Astarot actually called, and he seemed pretty insistent on me joining up your little group. He didn't say much, other than - and I quote - that 'the cause will show the world how imbalanced society is. Heroes will be brought down, and it'll be the birth of a better future.' That's what he said," he explained. "I guess I wanted to, I don't know, talk about it in person."

"Are you joining? The League of Villains, I mean. You'd be extremely useful, you know?" You said, immediately turning to flattery. "You're probably one of the most powerful hackers I know of, and your skills would definitely come in handy."

"I know, I know," he mumbled. "It's not that I don't want to help, but I would rather not classify myself as a villain, you know? I merely seek out intellectual stimulation to challenge myself and keep me entertained."

"And you'd get plenty of opportunities in the League. Not a villain, huh? So, are you a hero, then? 'Cause you're certainly not an ordinary, helpless civilian," you said.

"Oh, I'm certainly not a hero. I would rather not be classified as anything in regards to superhuman society," Kairo said.

"Yet here you are. You and I both know that it doesn't matter what you think you are - society will classify you as a villain. Why? Because you help people like myself and Astarot, and you've offered your services to plenty of sketchy people. By proxy, you're considered one of us," you countered.

There was a brief moment of silence before Kairo spoke again. "I suppose you're right..."

He didn't seem too pleased to admit to it.

"How about I proceed with your documents?" He proposed, briefly changing the subject.

"Sure, go ahead."

He nodded, turning in his chair to face his monitors, but before doing anything, he glanced at you once more.

"I'll help," he said, making you perk up. "However, I'll continue operating from my quarters. Should there ever be any big battles planned out, I want no physical part in them. I am not built for combat."

"Deal," you said with a slight smirk.

He turned back to his monitors, activating his quirk and putting his hands on the screens. His face lit up in various codes, as did the many monitors in front of them. The codes flew by so quickly that your eyes could barely keep up with them, not that you could make heads or tails of them in the first place.

Kairo. His quirk: High-Tech. He can manipulate, take control and hack into devices categorized as technology, which includes but is not limited to computers, robots, hardware and other technological constructs.

Not built for combat, huh? His quirk had a lot of potential in being dangerous out on the battlefield. Humans were surrounded by technology, and there were so many things that could malfunction or take control.

Maybe he'd change his mind, in the long run. But for now, you'd celebrate that you had added another powerful ally to the cause.

Things were progressing.

I'm so sorry it took so long to get this out, so have a long chapter to make up for it! I've been having some crappy home situations with my mother, so me and my husband have been working overtime to gather enough money to move out and get our own place.

Lots happening in this chapter, so I hope you've enjoyed. Bits and pieces of information are thrown here and there for you to start piecing things together ~.

I simp for Kairo, so reader also low key simps for him lmao.

Also, got the feeling that the reader has a slight god complex? Good!

AND... I finally got some custom artwork done for the book cover, so I hope you like it!

I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out, but I will do my best for the wait to not be a month again.

Thanks for your patience! ♡

~ Britt

Not a hero in sight on patrol, the crooks here just weren't noisy enough to garner enough attention from the pros.

Just let them destroy each other or something of the likes. It'll go unnoticed — perhaps that was the train of thoughts most harboured when it came to this area.

Being abruptly snapped out of your thought, you grunted in surprise when you felt your ankle being gripped, and looking down, you saw some grimy homeless man, looking up at you with a dreadful grin as he tightly held on to you with both hands.

"C'mon... spare a penny, lil' lady," he said in a gruff voice.

"Fuck off," you snarled.

You nearly lost your balance from the tug-of-war, though it didn't take very long for you to lose your patience and deliver a swift yet sharp blow to the man's head with your board, knocking him out cold. With his grip on your ankle loosened, you pushed him back onto his flimsy piece of cardboard. You hadn't even thought of using your quirk against him, immediately resorting to a blunt 'weapon'. You didn't feel like wasting your energy on someone you deemed so much more lowly than you.

Though before you resumed your way, you eyed the man's tin can, and you had no remorse or care when you rummaged through it, pulling out a 500 yen coin and pocketing it before leaving.

Survival of the fittest — that's how you rolled.

"'Sides, I don't have much to spare myself," you muttered to the unconscious man.

Maybe you would have considered helping him in different circumstances, but putting his filthy hands on you definitely didn't put you in a mood to do so.

Ahh... it certainly was a homely neighbourhood, filled with a wide variety of bums — so diverse.

You could see your building coming into view, and you'd be relieved to catch a break if you weren't suddenly reminded of all the work you had to do before having the right to obtain that break.

You needed to fill out U.A's application form and send it in. Then, you'd need to make that important call to Kairo.

Maybe you were being dramatic; it wasn't that much work when you truly thought about it, but it felt as such when you've been tugged into business meeting after business meeting with the League and Astarot regarding the preparations for the upcoming mission.

You suddenly felt sour when you realized that the entrance exam was still so far away. You just wanted to get on with it because you had to admit, you were so excited about the outcome. Astarot really had hyped you up for this, hadn't he?

The dawn of a new society... what a fucking dream.

You entered your building, heading down the very short flight of stairs to reach your door that was located on the ground floor. Reaching into your pockets, you grabbed your keys and inserted them into the lock, and your eyebrows furrowed upon realizing that your door was already unlocked. It greatly confused you; you were certain that you had locked it before you left.

Now, you just wanted to throw hands with whoever decided to pick your lock, not that it was an uncommon occurrence around here.

And you might have had a suspicion as to who it was.

Entering your very basic-looking home, you made sure to lock your door behind you, taking your shoes off and leaning your skateboard against the wall. You contemplated further pushing back your responsibilities as the League's newest spy, but you figured that the sooner you got your shit done, the sooner you could actually lay down and do nothing.

You entered your kitchen to throw your empty smoothie cup — which you had surprisingly held on to the entire time — into the trash, though before you could exit, something atop your counter caught your eye.

It was money set atop a letter. You counted 2,000 yen, and suddenly, your suspicions as to who had broken into your apartment became that much more confirmed. Still, you read the note.

Heyyy (YN)! Here's the money I owed you. Thanks again, you're the best of the best, and you should really date me pretty please! (灬♡ω♡灬). Oh, and I borrowed two eggs and a yogurt from your fridge. Thanks!

~ E.

And there went your will to live. Right out the window.

That was most definitely from the guy who lived in the apartment right above yours. There weren't many people or things that chilled you to the bone, but that one guy did. Why was he so fucking weird? He needed a hobby.

You shook your head, not wanting to dwell on it for too long — you'd deal with Eichi another day. You had other things to tend to.

With a sigh, you forced yourself to your living room. You crouched in front of your TV stand, reaching into one of the shelving units where you grabbed a folded up piece of paper — U.A's application form for the heroics department that you were required to fill out.

You dropped onto your couch, lifting your feet atop the coffee table as you made yourself comfortable. You unfolded the paper, and you furrowed your brows as you skimmed the questions. There were so many lies you'd need to jot down, though, in all honesty, your entire application was fiction. After all, you weren't there to play hero.

You sighed dejectedly, setting down the application as you realized that you had to call Kairo before you even began filling it out, let alone sent it out.

It was all rattling your brain, how you needed to forge a fake life for yourself to be able to avoid any suspicions. After all, you were a twenty-year-old woman that was to pose as a first-year high-school student. That was where Kairo — a genius, mastermind and powerful hacker — came into play. He'd be able to help you.

Picking up your cellphone, you dialled Kairo's number, which you've memorized by heart over time — you've had many jobs that involved Kairo's expertise, and vice-versa. You benefited from one another quite a bit. If you needed some fancy tech works to ensure a successful mission, Kairo had your back, and if he needed your combat expertise, you were hired.

Your foot rapidly tapped the ground in impatience as you listened to the other end's ringing. He better pick up, you thought as you wanted to get all preparations done and over with, but unfortunately, you found yourself clenching your eyes shut and grinding your teeth when you heard a faint beep, signalling that you were now on voicemail.

"Kairo, it's (Y/N). Listen, that favour you owe me? I need it now. Me, Astarot and some other people are cooking up something huge and— never mind that; I'll give the details later, but call or text me as soon as you can, got it?" You said as you hung up.

He'd get back to you. He always did.

You were going to need to make modifications to your legal documents: change your birthday and age so that you could pose as a high-schooler — that was the priority. Should you change your surname? You didn't want anybody to be able to trace you back to your actual family, that would just garner some extra, unwanted attention to you. But then, if you messed around with your family roots, would you need to do the same to your parents' legal documents? Or were you being paranoid and thinking about things much too deeply?

What a headache.

And when you thought of your physical appearance, five years didn't seem like such a big gap, but it was one that was large enough for you to safely say that you looked much older than a first-year. If you were to look at someone and tell them you were fifteen, you'd be caught dead in your bullshit with no questions asked.

You smirked, knowing that you already had a solution to that little inconvenience.

You flexed your fingers, channelling the energy of a specific being that was under your control. Your palm eventually lit up in a charcoal-coloured mist, and from that action, a similar dark mist began manifesting in the middle of your living room. From the fog, an apparition of a wraith-like creature materialized.

The creature lacked a visible bottom half of its body, having no legs. It wore a raggedy black robe that seemed to flow despite the lack of air drafts in your home, and it wore a hood, similar to how most would depict a grim reaper. You couldn't make out any facial features behind the hood, only finding an empty void. It had navy blue, skeletal arms and bony hands peering from the robe, and to top it off, a strange tar-like substance dripped from it, though you weren't worried about the stain it left behind as you knew it would disappear the moment you deactivated your quirk.

This creature was... well, you had decided to refer to it as a spirit the moment it manifested when you were a child, but the truth was that you weren't quite sure if that was an accurate name for it. Regardless, this spirit was part of your quirk.

"How can we be of service?" They spoke politely with a heavily distorted voice, bowing to you.

The distortion in their voice was caused by the overlapping of the voices of the many souls inhabiting them. It was eerie, and it rarely failed to send shivers down the spine of whoever was in their presence, or maybe that was due to the way their presence turned the air so frigid you could see your own breath as if winter had befallen your apartment.

You had taken to calling them Abyss as they didn't have a name of their own. You thought it was fitting; they were, in a way, a bottomless abyss of countless departed souls. They had never protested to the name you had imposed, and you weren't sure if it was because they didn't care, or because they had no say in the matter as you were seen as their owner and master.

Though as much of an asshole you were, you had never regarded Abyss as lesser than you; they had grown on you, admittedly.

"Abyss, I'm going to need to have the Cell Manipulation quirk on hand at all times for a long period of time. I technically don't need it right away, but I need to practice keeping it active for long periods of time for my upcoming mission," you explained. "Think you can lend it to me?"

"But of course, Lady (Y/N)," Abyss said. "However, you must be aware that — omitting your natural ability — your body is currently carrying two quirks. You are at your current limit."

You nodded at their warning, already aware. "I know. That's why I'll make a trade, for now."

They nodded. "Very well. Which quirk will you be trading for Cell Manipulation? Shall it be Volcanic or Dreamless?"

You sighed. "It'll be Dreamless."

They seemingly cocked their head to the side, questioning your decision. "Are you quite sure? That quirk is the one that protects you from some of the drawbacks your natural ability brings you. You would experience much discomfort without it."

You waved them off. "I'll manage. Besides, I want to keep at least one offence-based quirk on me at all times."

"Very well. In that case, shall we?" They asked, levitating closer to you and reaching out, prompting you for a handshake.

You nodded, interlocking your hand with Abyss'. Mist swirled around the both of you as you channelled the energy of the quirk you'd be ridding yourself of. You felt lightheaded as you felt the quirk leave your body, and had you not been used to the sensation, you might have passed out from how dizzying it was. However, the sickening feeling soon faded as you felt a new quirk enter your body, signalling that the exchange had been a success.

(Y/N) (L/N). Her quirk: Dead Man's Dealings.

She can summon an entity that collects the souls of the deceased. Through that entity, she can borrow and make use of the quirks that once belonged to the living.

Letting go of Abyss' hand, you shook your head as you rubbed your temples. Abyss watched you intently, assuring your wellbeing, as they knew of the stress your body could endure with these kinds of deals.

"Are you well?" They asked.

"I'm fine, thanks," you said. "You're dismissed."

They bowed. "Very well. Call upon us should you need our assistance again."

With that, you deactivated your quirk, the room's temperature going back to normal as Abyss disappeared into a smokescreen that vanished into thin air. The tar that had been staining your floor was gone, seemingly never having existed in the first place.

The quirk Cell Manipulation, as you had learned, was very versatile. When you thought about it, you hadn't even scratched the surface when it came to what you could do with that quirk. The ability to manipulate a living being's cells... the possibilities were endless.

And with a bit of practice, you were certain that you could manipulate your own cells to make you appear a little younger — a bit of shapeshifting, to say the least. That was something you would strive to work on until the entrance exams.

Practice — a lot of practice — would be needed. As nice as your own ability was, allowing you to essentially make use of a plethora of various quirks, you had to make them your own as you didn't borrow the expertise that the person once had with that quirk. In other words, once you borrowed a quirk, you started from zero, as if you were a four-year-old child discovering what power they possessed for the first time.

And sometimes, your body didn't react well to certain quirks — you just weren't compatible with them.

Sure, you had a rare and powerful ability, that much you could say, but the power came with many complexities. Not only did you have to endure the drawbacks of Dead Man's Dealings, but you also had to learn, memorize and deal with the limitations and drawbacks that came with the borrowed quirks.

And now that you had given up one of your greatest sources of protection against Dead Man's Dealings, you were going to be in for some difficult nights.

Maybe you'd eventually find a way to make some room for your body to accommodate one more quirk, letting you wield four at the same time, though you weren't quite sure it was an experiment you'd be willing to carry out — three was already difficult on you.

You leaned back, thinking back to your childhood, about the utter confusion on your parents' faces when your power had first manifested. You didn't blame them, as your quirk was a mutation, meaning that you hadn't developed your father's powerful radioactivity or your mother's telekinesis; it had come out of nowhere.

You also thought back to the look of horror on your mother's face when she realized the horrifying reality of the trigger your quirk had needed to manifest, but you also thought back to your father's twisted expression of intrigue, one that had spiralled your life into what it was at the moment.

Shaking your head, you willed the image of your father away, tucking it into the darkest corners of your mind. Your old man was no longer a concern to you, so you didn't feel like dwelling on him for too long.

Sighing, you took another peek at the application form, deciding that, while you were so deep in thought about your quirk, you may as well do the bare minimum and insert the information about your quirk in the application.

Grabbing the form and a pen, you wrote down the name of your quirk as well as a very basic description: you wrote about what it did, how you were limited in the number of quirks you could carry at the same time and how you had a finite limit of how many times in a day you would be able to switch the quirks around using Abyss.

Of course, there was another catch to your quirk. It was one that U.A didn't need to know about. If they did, it would be game over for you — pieces would be put together, and it'd be off to Tartarus for you, you just knew it.

The thing was, Abyss couldn't simply grab whatever souls they came across for your convenience. In fact, they couldn't see most wandering souls. Likewise, you couldn't simply point to a soul and tell Abyss to fetch.

No, that wasn't how that worked. 

The truth was that Abyss could only collect the souls of the people whose deaths you were responsible for.

Heroic quirks, villainous quirks — people were quick to categorize them. You weren't really of that mindset; the world was so much more complicated than this black and white bullshit.

However, in your case, you could say that only a villain could truly make use and take advantage of a quirk like yours. No true hero would be able to live with themselves, knowing that they would need to take lives in order to make use of their power.

U.A was definitely going to be rattled with your presence. How fun.

~~~~~~

Chapter Word Count: 3,180

Original Publish Date: 2022-01-09

~~~~~~

I really wanted to drop the bomb on what the reader's quirk is, as there have been some curious people wondering how the narrative would work. If you've done the math within the last chapter, you would have noticed that she's twenty, which is too old for high-school, and some were also curious as to how she obtained a quirk. Dead Man's Dealings is how, my friends.

Now, it is a strong quirk, I know that. However, there are a lot of drawbacks and limitations that are passive and will be heavily affecting the reader as means to balance it out.

Also, there's quite a bit of foreshadowing for backstory that I can't wait to explore! ~ Eichi's name is dropped in this chapter, though he won't be making an appearance right away — it's more of a cameo to show that this OC does know the reader personally, and they live in the same building. I also don't want you guys to be too overwhelmed, so I'm introducing the original characters gradually.

Fun fact: Abyss was inspired by Ermac from Mortal Kombat. Also, their name went through a few changes during development. At first, it was All In One, but I found that not only was it a mouthful, but it was also too close to AFO and OFA. Then, it was Void, but I ended with Abyss as I thought it suited them better.

Now, a quick question, would you guys rather me to write out the full quirk profile for DMD? Or would you rather me write it out naturally as the story progresses? Personally, I'd rather the second option, but I know some would rather have the full quirk profile written out for them to read and fully understand the power.

Hope you enjoyed this, and I'll see you next chapter, where Kairo makes his first appearance!

~ Britt

They targeted the quirkless. After all, those people were considered to be less valuable than a bucket of warm spit. Powerless and unable to hold a candle against most in this superhuman society, they were seen as the perfect little tools to be moulded in mindless, broken slaves. Pitied and discriminated by most in a world where your entire person was determined by the quirk one would develop, being quirkless meant being a disgrace and a failure - an absolute fucking embarrassment and an entire one-man-circus-show to the world.

And some sick fucks would rather pawn their own flesh and blood than show an ounce of humanity and support. Even when it meant sending their own, young children into a world of inevitable pain and trauma.

Quirkless children as young as five were taken from their shit families, who voluntarily shipped them off to the Hidakas. It was wishful thinking on your part, to think that they'd be purchased by people who would treat them right. But in what fucking world would that happen? Any halfway-decent human being would procreate or adopt a child instead of purchasing one from an auction organized by a Yakuza group, for fuck's sake.

It twisted your gut when you remembered that one teary-eyed little girl who had been dragged in by one of the various henchmen. At the time, she looked about your age, around seven years old. You had turned your head away, pretending not to hear her cries as did the Hidakas' children that you had been playing with.

"Where are my parents? Who are you? Why am I here? I want mommy and daddy," were all things that she had said. It had been a one-sided conversation, the henchman not answering any of her questions as he dragged her away until you could no longer hear her cries due to the distance.

You never saw her again afterwards, nor any of the other quirkless children, teens and adults that had been brought.

It was terrible, and you had been selfish to think 'at least it's not me', though you wholeheartedly believed that you were in your right to not want to suffer, to self-preserve and value yourself. Still, no child should be induced to fucking slavery at the hands of old, rich and perverted men and women. To be used and abused with no limits because they would be defenceless and broken into obedient, submissive messes.

You were seven at the time, and you were already well-aware of all the bullshit that went on behind the closed doors of the family of the children you played with, and so were they. How fucked up.

The reign of the Hidakas was over, however, but not without leaving a stain on society that would take years to wash away. The name was a social taboo; it became off-limits for discussion, as the population would rather pretend that such a family never ruled from the shadows. You could understand; the mess the Hidakas had left behind was still fresh.

You knew the exact reason as to why they were no longer active - the exact chain of events that led to the fall of the Hidakas, you knew them. Though as far as the population was aware, they'd all perished, leaving no heir to the organization - what other reason would be so logical?

Truth be told, it was partially true. While Japan assumed that the Hidakas went extinct, you knew that three remained, the three brothers you used to associate with and still associate with. While they've disassociated themselves with the amoral family business, they still carried the blood that their surname brought. They remained Hidakas.

A mug of warm, mint chamomile tea was placed on the cocktail table in front of you, and you sent a faint nod of gratitude to the man who welcomed you into his home. Though as nice as it was of him to accommodate you, you were here for business. Nothing more, nothing less.

It wasn't the first time that you've been here, but the luxurious mansion threw you off every single time you made an appearance, making you feel completely improper. How could it not? Especially with your current living conditions of a shitty, rundown apartment located in the asshole of the prefecture. You swore there was a weekly invasion of roaches with the occasional piece of plaster falling from the ceiling, and let's not forget to applaud your award-winning neighbours.

With your body being well-adapted to searing temperatures, you immediately picked up the beverage and sipped on the still-boiling drink, watching as he made himself comfortable on the opposing sofa. He crossed his legs and leaned his head on his propped-up arm, those piercing yellow eyes of his were filled with mischief and smugness - always have been. His usual trench coat was off, leaving him in a charming purple dress shirt that accentuated him nicely. Your eyes drifted to his tail, noticing the golden ring that seemed to effortlessly orbit around the appendage.

You had asked him before what purpose the ring served, though you only received an unsatisfying "It's for aesthetics" as an answer. The idiot.

The man in front of you was your long-time acquaintance - dare you say friend - who went by the villainous alias of Astarot. His true identity? None really knew; he preferred to introduce himself as Astarot to nearly everyone, as to protect his true identity. A common practice nowadays for villains and heroes alike.

But, you personally knew him as Kaji Hidaka. The second son of the late Oyabu of the Hidaka group, and the one considered to be the golden, trophy child. The one with the most potential, so to say, though that could roughly translate to the one with the most powerful quirk of the three children they had.

You've known Kaji - you'd often call him by his given name in private - for as long as you could remember, your families having introduced the two of you when you were five years old while he was seven.

Time really did fly; it had already been fifteen years since your first meeting, and you couldn't believe that you still stuck around the man after all this time, considering the true intentions of your families when attempting to force you to get along.

Kaji looked so lax, like nothing could phase or break him. From an outsider's perspective, he was impossible to read, even to you at times. But you knew this: the subject of his family - his father, specifically - was a distasteful subject, that much you knew was a subject that could get those lips to curl into a frown filled with disdain.

You never bothered him about his history - didn't need to as you've experienced a part of the ride alongside him. You were on good terms with the man, so you didn't push your luck.

"Glad you could make it, (Y/N)," Kaji said, breaking the silence.

"What'd'you have for me?" You immediately asked, cutting straight to the chase.

He tilted his head. "Hasty, aren't we? Maybe I just wanted your company."

"I doubt that," you said. "When was the last time we hung out as anything other than business partners."

Kaji's brow rose at that, and you could just feel the pompous comment brewing inside of him.

"Oh? Is that your subtle way of telling me you want to spend more time with me?" He asked.

"You fucking wish," you snorted.

A low laugh rumbled from deep within his chest as he looked on at you in absolute amusement; he adored your little display of attitude. Kaji had always been the only one who was able to not bat an eye at your antics, having known you for so long and baring a similar personality - a worthy opponent, you supposed.

"That asides, I guess that you are right; we should talk business," he said, suddenly taking on a much more serious tone.

You had been previously slouched with a disinterested glance, but the mention of business had you sitting upright with anticipation glimmering in your eyes. Kaji was about to comment on it - he just found it so endearing to see. He refrained, however, figuring that it'd be best to stay on track.

"It's a little different from what you're used to," Kaji said. "Actually, it's very different, but it's probably one of the biggest opportunities you could possibly have. It's of high importance."

You were curious. If it wasn't what you were used to, you supposed that you weren't being hired by some lower-level criminal who hired nobodies such as yourself to save up money but still get the job done. You usually got your hands dirty in obliterating the properties of whoever your client had targeted, usually being spawned from some petty gang rivalry and competition. On the rare occasion, you had a bit of blood to spill. All for a little blood money to help you get by.

"You see, I've been having a few meetings with an upcoming villain group that goes by the name of The League of Villains, and-"

"The League of...? Oh, for crying out loud," you said, interrupting Kaji.

He chuckled. "I know - the name's tacky, but it's just a cheap, temporary alias," he said. "Carrying on, the group is still very small, so there aren't many people yet. It's led by a guy named Tomura Shigaraki."

"Never heard of him," you said, shrugging.

"Maybe not him, but you do know about All For One, now don't you," kaji asked, to which you responded with a nod. "Well, the group is founded by none other than All For One. He lurks in the shadows of the League, grooming Shigaraki to be the next symbol of fear."

You perked up at that. "The All For One? I thought All Might had him wiped out of existence."

He shook his head. "No, not at all, though All For One is severely incapacitated from the fight," he paused with a smirk, "not that All Might got out of that battle unscathed, so I've been told."

"I see, and what's the goal behind all of this?" You asked.

Kaji's smirk widened as his tail delightfully swayed behind him. "They want to destroy everything All Might has created and bring down the Hero Association. I know it doesn't exactly align with our goals and convictions, but heroes are quite the obstacle to us, are they not? So, I figured that cooperating with one another might be a win-win situation, don't you think?"

You nodded, taking in the information and mulling it over. While you were more looking for a renewal in society, the League sounded more like they wanted to fuck shit up, to put it bluntly, but Kaji did have a point that, in the end, heroes were a mutual obstacle that left a bitter taste in your mouths.

"Okay... that's all fine and dandy, but what's my role in all of this?" You asked.

"You, my dear," he pointed at you for emphasis, "would be needed to infiltrate the pinnacle of heroic education - U.A - to be a mole and give us important details about the school, the events, the upcoming generation of heroes and the world of heroes in itself. We need all the intel possible. And, most importantly, we would need you to keep an eye on All Might," Kaji explained.

"All Might...?" You questioned, being perplexed as to how U.A and All Might were connected.

Kaji leaned forward. "We've caught wind of the possibility of All Might himself being part of the staff for the next year. We would need you to confirm, and if it happens to be true, keep a close eye on him."

"Let me guess, you're asking me in particular because of that quirk I... obtained two years ago for an undercover mission I did, right?" You asked, tilting your head.

"Smart girl," Kaji cooed; it sounded condescending, and you'd tear him a new asshole if you weren't so engrossed in the mission details. "But that aside, you're quite the manipulative little thing - a fantastic actress, I find. You'd be perfect for a mission like this."

"Gee, I appreciate the genuine compliment," you said with much sarcasm. Though you hated to admit it, he was right. In your line of work, manipulation and being two-faced was a must.

He only grinned at your comment - again, he found you so endearing.

"And," Kaji added, "say that - hypothetically - things go wrong, and you're caught, we wouldn't have to worry too much. All For One is dangling some blackmail over the heads of some people, so they've got another potential spy on standby."

You raised a brow, crossing your arms. "If they've already got someone, what's the point of asking me?"

He grinned. "Ah, y'see, that other spy isn't what I'd call villainous. You understand what I'm saying, yeah? His loyalty is questionable."

You nodded. "So, the League is emphasizing recruiting a spy that's already on the villains' side?"

"Mhm," Kaji confirmed before leaning forward. "So, what do you say, (Y/N)? Are you up for it? Think about it: this is the perfect opportunity to finally take that sweet step into knocking all those worthless heroes off their pretty pedestals. We can finally start moulding that new, ideal future we've always wanted. We're not alone, (Y/N), others agree that this superhuman society is absolute shit, we can all work this out together and strive for our goals. We can and will win."

The look of bliss in Kaji's eyes was almost unsettling, but you weren't going to be the one to judge, as you were sure that you held a similar look. He wanted this - truly wanted this. It was quite the sight; Kaji was an independent person who took no orders from anyone, preferring to be the one to demand and work according to his own terms, yet here he was: hasty to merge with this upcoming group.

"(Y/N), aren't you tired of sitting on the sidelines? Don't you want to make a difference?"

He didn't even need to justify the cause, you had already made up your mind on the matter.

Amoral businesses were everywhere, and amongst some of the worst, you could name the hero industry. Maybe, once upon a time, you looked up to heroes. They were so... wow to a younger, naive version of yourself. They seemed so perfect, like they actually cared about making the world a better place, but nowadays, you could barely name some that held your respect.

How could you? Certainly not when you witnessed so many children be whisked away by the Hidakas with none coming to save them. Certainly not when Kaji and his brothers - you as well, to some degree - all suffered at the hands of their father with no one asides from themselves to depend on for survival.

And you certainly couldn't when you caught wind of some so-called heroes working alongside Kaji's father. You've all prayed and begged for help, to be pulled from your misery, but your voices were drowned and went unheard. All because the wealth they could obtain from the Hidakas was so much more tempting than rescuing a bunch of kids that were under the radar and out of the public eye.

And one of those heroes had the audacity to smile and bask in the praise of the public, recounting the children he had saved from a fire the other day on live television as if he hadn't ignored the victims of one of the vilest organizations.

That particular hero, you used to admire him so much. You had strived to be just like him in your youth, but you had come to associate everything he was as negative. He wasn't a true hero; he was unworthy of that title.

It was all so ironic - in a very grim way.

Seeing how hypocritical and fake heroes were had been both Kaji's and your breaking point. The only people you could truly count on were yourselves; heroes weren't there for you, and they never would.

That had been the message you registered when you were younger.

So many heroes were corrupted, and the world needed a wake-up call that you'd gladly provide.

"I'm in."

Chapter Word Count: 3026

Another short chapter and I'm setting up quite a bit of backstory to be explored in the future, eh? Everything will come together and be explained in due time, no worries - we can't rush those things, now can we? ~

This was more to begin establishing a bit about Kaji/Astarot and his personality, since he will be very present!

I've also added two character references in the 'Before you read' chapter as I've decided to include Kaji's siblings to the story, since they are important to him and his backstory - also because I simp, but that's besides the point - so go check 'em out!

~ Britt

"(Y/N), are you listening?" Your caller said, snapping you back to reality. He held obvious exasperation in his voice, being thoroughly done with your attitude.

"Mhm," you hummed, nodding even though he couldn't see you.

"You have U.A's application form, don't you?"

Another half-assed hum left your mouth, and you could feel your lips curl into an amused smirk when your caller briefly paused — he was clearly annoyed with your uninterested display. Ah, you were an asshole, and you'd sport that title on your sleeves with pride. The way your chest bubbled with contentment at the slightest inconvenience you brought others was far from healthy, and it definitely wasn't befitting of a future hero.

If you could truly even call yourself as such.

"... you have filled it out, right?" He asked.

You took your sweet time in answering, exaggeratedly slurping on your drink for an extended period of time that felt like decades to the caller. Popping the straw out of your mouth, an obnoxious and breathy 'ahh' left your lips, and you had the audacity to let the question linger a bit, still not answering. The silence was deafening, and you could feel the indignation of the caller on the other end; it was intoxicating.

"Nah," you finally said; it was the first actual word you've spoken since the beginning of the conversation.

"Are you not taking this seriously?" He asked, his tone low and threatening. If he was attempting to frighten you, he failed miserably.

Though you had to say that his voice did send some pleasant shivers down your spine. It was easy on the ears, you found.

"I'm taking this very seriously. You've been repeating things I already know for the past fifteen minutes. I'm bored," you said.

"Well, do excuse me. Considering your apparent lack of attentiveness on the matter, you do not inspire the attitude of someone who is, as you say, taking this very seriously," he said.

The sarcasm laced with his formal speech caused you to narrow your eyes. To any bystander who would happen to cross your path, it would look as if the academy had personally offended you.

"Now, carrying on," he continued, "It is of utmost importance that you be accepted into U.A's department of heroics, understood?"

"Mhm. Heard you loud and clear the first time."

"Excellent," he said, ignoring the apparent sarcasm in your tone. Perhaps he had figured that the best way to deal with you was to refrain from giving you a reaction — how boring.

"U.A Academy seems to be reputable for its low acceptance rate, but no matter the cost, you must pass the entrance exam," he said.

The serious urgency in his voice made you want to cackle — he was so damn serious about this. Yet, you didn't, because you weren't lying earlier: you were taking this seriously. Your glaring eyes at the building only became all the more heated, as if daring it to reject you from the hero course. You were gonna ace the test — you knew you were, confident that you would.

"Yeah. Failure's not an option, or whatever," you said.

"There has been a lot of praise about you from highly respectable people, so I ask that you prove that choosing you for this was no mistake," he said.

"No need to doubt my abilities. Don't worry about it, you can count on me," you said with a sudden hint of passion in your voice.

"Very well," he said.

"There's just one thing, though," you said. "What about my records?"

"What about them concerns you?"

"Won't they raise a few eyebrows?" You asked.

"Hm... I see. Hm? Please — hold on for a moment, (Y/N)," he said, seemingly turning away from the phone.

You could hear another voice in the background, conversing with your caller. While you waited to be spoken to once more, you decided that you had glared at U.A for long enough, and so, pushing yourself back onto your skateboard, you began your trek back to your apartment.

After a brief exchange, your caller's attention was back on you. "According to Astarot, you know whom to call. A man by the alias of 'Kairo', I believe? I've not the faintest of ideas who the man is, but that is who you are to contact. Am I right to assume you've met beforehand?"

You blinked confusedly, nose scrunching as you glossed over his question. "Astarot...? Is that purple dick with you right now?"

"Please, remain on topic," he said.

"Fine, fine. Yes, I know Kairo," you answered.

You couldn't believe you nearly forgot about Kairo. Indeed, you knew whom to call; Kairo would most definitely be able to help you out with your predicament. His help would make things so much easier.

"Good. We'll be in touch," he said, and with that, he hung up on you.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you pocketed your phone. What a nuisance of a phone call, you thought to yourself as you sped off towards your home. The scenery gradually became duller by the second as you exited the nice, rich part of the prefecture and into the thug-infested slums that you had the absolute honour of calling home.

Musutafu's scenery was quite different from what you were accustomed to, back in your neighbourhood. Everything was so clean, barely a speck of pollution that littered the streets. It was green and well-planted with life, and hell, even the air smelled rather fresh. The people you passed had all seemed so carefree, big smiles plastered on their faces as if nothing could ever go wrong.

You wondered why it was so rare for heroes to patrol your musky, run-down neighbourhood. One would think that they'd flock there to get their chance at easy captures. But perhaps that was just the problem: the thugs roaming around were much too low-class for most heroes to care. They wouldn't get much recognition out of sweeping the slums for scum, not like higher-ranked villains that caused massive scenes in normally peaceful areas.

How many heroes truly cared about making the world a better place? That was something you pondered often.

~~~~~~

Astarot eyed his newfound coworker in amusement. He, too, had found the exchange between the two of you rather amusing. Having known you for quite some time now, he knew your little game, how you practically got your rocks off to grinding the gears of others.

A single one of his fingers was engulfed into a deep, purple flame, which he brought up to light the cigarette between his lips. Taking a drag and pulling the stick away, he propped his elbow atop the bar before resting his cheek upon his palm, an amused expression still plastered on his features.

"So, tell me, Kurogiri, how was she?" Astarot asked.

A sigh came from the misty apparition clad in a suit. "She was rather... difficult."

Astarot chuckled at that; his tricolour, dragon-like tail slowly swayed behind him in delight in a rather hypnotic manner. Kurogiri seemed to be choosing his words carefully, as if wanting to avoid the possibility of offending him. So polite and well-spoken for a villain. Quite peculiar, but a refreshing change of pace, Astarot thought.

"She's a brat," a raspy voice said from beside Astarot.

Ah, of course Tomura Shigaraki wouldn't be so generous with his wording. Still, Astarot quirked a brow. Of all people, Shigaraki was not in the best of positions to call other people brats — the lack of self-awareness on the blue-haired villain's part quite honestly gave Astarot whiplash.

"God, don't I know that? A bit rude, isn't she?" Astarot spoke with a certain fondness in his tone, as if the notion of your attitude brought him some form of endearment.

Shigaraki grumbled, muttering something underneath his breath about how 'it's no wonder why you two idiots get along.'

"What? Please don't tell me that villains such as you two can't handle a bit of sass?" Astarot asked, taking another drag. "Don't worry so much. She's the best bet you've got if you wanna secure valuable information about U.A, pro-heroes, the upcoming generation of heroes, and All Might himself."

Shigaraki's hands flew to his neck, vehemently scratching the skin raw until specks of blood could be seen from the claw marks. He turned to glare at Astarot, though the dragon-like man was nowhere near phased by the anger in his red eyes.

"If it turns out that you're lying about All Might being a teacher, I won't hesitate to turn you into dust, you hear?"

Astarot exhaled smoke into Shigaraki's face before faking a pout and feigning hurt. "Aw. You don't believe me? I'm hurt. C'mon, now, even your master is in agreement with me."

The mere mention of his master was enough to seemingly calm Shigaraki down in the slightest, causing him to pause his bad scratching habits. It was too easy — when it came to his master, Shigaraki would lick the dirt he walked upon on command.

"Can we count on her?" Kurogiri asked. "This mission is nothing to take lightly, and the beginnings will all depend on her. Tell me, Astarot, can we count on her to not fail?"

Astarot flashed a grin of sharpened fangs, tail still swaying from side to side. "Make no mistake — (Y/N) is absolutely perfect for the job. She can pretend like she doesn't give a shit, but when she's got a job to do, she sees it through to perfection."

Astarot took a final drag of his cigarette before his expression fell into something much more malevolent. "I have no doubts that she'll infiltrate the pinnacle of education that is U.A. She'll brutally hit hero society, and they won't even know it was her in the first place. I am confident."

Word Count: 1876 Words

Publish Date: 2021-12-03

No worries, the actual chapters will be much longer than this. After all, this is just a short prologue to set the mood of the story! I hope you're excited, because I sure am happy to be writing this!

~ Britt

3.1 Eichi Touju

3.2 Inei Nozomi

3.3 Kaji Hidaka | "Astarot"

3.4 Roa Kaishuu

3.5 ??? | "Kairo"

3.6 Migaku Hidaka

3.7 Renjirou Hidaka

• Eichi, Inei, Kairo, Kaji, Migaku & Renjirou's artist: Wafflecaramel on Etsy

• Roa's artist: Kechidato on Etsy

You were reduced to loud, pitiful mewls that echoed throughout your bedroom; you swore that you've never been so loud in your life, but you should have seen this coming. When Hizashi told you that he'd reduce you to a shamble of blaring screams and unintelligible curses, he meant it. He wanted you loud, moaning and begging with his name falling from your lips; you wondered if you'd get another noise complaint from your neighbours.

He told you that he wanted to make up for all the time you've lost together, all the time he was away from you because of his three occupations. His definition of 'making up' included making you cum over and over until you were a blithering moron, and by God, you were nearly there. Hell, maybe you already were; Hizashi had made you cum on his tongue twice already, and you were already helplessly writhing.

"Hizash, I-I can't... shit," you moaned.

"You can't?" He repeated, pulling away from your puffy cunt. You could hear it in his tone – the smug and playful tone he used when he damn well knew that he was in control.

You weren't able to answer him, whimpering both from the loss of contact, and from the way your body involuntarily jolted even without the contact.

"No..." you said, though you weren't certain if you were complaining about the fact that he was no longer ravishing your pussy, or if you were answering him.

"Sweetheart, I've just begun," he chuckled. "Besides, if you can't, mind telling me why you're inching your pretty lil' pussy closer to my mouth?"

He was right; you didn't necessarily want him to stop. You were tired, yes, but damn did it feel amazing; you wouldn't trade this insane pleasure for anything, and it seemed that your body sub-consciously agreed with you.

You yelped when Hizashi licked another stripe up to your engorged clit. Gosh, such a simple move on his part sufficed to have your eyes clenching shut — that's how sensitive you were at the moment.

"If you really want to stop, you know what ya have to say, but," he paused, flicking his tongue against your clit once more, "I don't think you want me to stop, huh?"

You barely had a single second to catch your breath or get a break. No, Hizashi wasted no time, sloppily and rapidly lapping at your clit with the tip of his tongue applying just the right amount of pressure.

Your chest heaved as you took sharp breaths in an attempt to suppress the screams that desperately wanted to escape you. You knew that you looked like a mess; drool dribbling down your chin and a layer of sweat coating your body.

"H-ha! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You moaned, scrunching the bedsheets in a death grip.

Your back arched, only further pressing your dripping cunt against your boyfriend's face. Against you, you could feel him groan in surprise at your hips' sudden movement.

Your body jolted at the overstimulation, twitching here and there from the added pressure. It felt like too much, and while you attempted to crawl away from Hizashi, his hands gripped at your thighs, pulling you against him with every one of your efforts to move.

Your legs felt numb from the amount of time they'd been spread for him, and although your body screamed at you to kick him away and shut your legs to protect your swollen clit, all you could do was clamp your legs on either side of his head. In the end, all that action caused was keeping him firmly against you in a headlock.

The sharp gasp from you was downright shameful when you felt vibrations against your cunt. Hizashi was using his quirk to pleasure you, and the sensation was so much better than any vibrator you've ever had. He could alter the soundwaves of his hums, giving you a variety of sensations.

"H-Hiza...!" You couldn't even moan his name at this point. Any word you tried to utter caught in your throat and were replaced with broken moans and wails.

Both your hands shot towards him, stuttering in the slightest as your body broke under his ministrations. You managed to dig your fingers into his scalp, and you felt him groan at the grip you had on his locks. Your subconscious told you to push him away with every ounce of strength you had left in your body, but your actual response was quite the opposite: you pushed him against you. Why? You weren't sure. It certainly wasn't helping your overstimulated cunt.

Hizashi's hums grew more powerful — God he had such perfect control over his quirk, being able to turn himself into a human vibrator was such a godsend that he loved to use as means to practically torture you with pleasure.

Your eyes had glossed over, salty tears leaking from how delicate every single one of your senses felt. The sensation of the vibrations provided by his quirk, along with the continuous flicks of his tongue against your clit, was overpowering.

Your thighs trembled, tightening around Hizashi's head who wasn't even phased by the pressure. Hell, he took it as a sign that he was doing exactly what he wanted to do with you.

"Z-Zashi! Zashi, please! Can't... I can't," you cried.

What were you even begging for? It wasn't for him to stop; you hadn't said your safeword, afterall. You could barely even think straight anymore, all because of his skilled mouth.

Oh God, you hadn't even made it to the main event yet; he hasn't even gotten to fucking you with his cock yet, and you were already a disheveled mess.

You were gonna cum soon, you could feel it building in your stomach, and you just knew that it was gonna be one hell of a messy orgasm. Any other time, you'd be embarrassed, so you'd warn Hizashi about it, but fuck it, you were gonna squirt all over his goddamn face.

Besides, you knew he was into that.

"'M gonna... soon — shit!" You tried to say, but coherent sentences were not something your voice was capable of forming at the moment.

Fortunately enough for you, Hizashi knew exactly what you were trying to imply, and as if the stimulation your clit was receiving wasn't enough, two long and slender fingers slipped inside your cunt, caressing your sweet spot.

And just to further push you, his quirk had amped up further, pulling a loud, elongated shriek from you. Your eyes had long rolled back in your head, and you barely had a voice anymore from how broken your body felt. It was horrifying just how overworked your body was, yet it only further turned you on. Despite it all, this was the best goddamn oral you've had in a while.

It shamed you that, despite your loud cries that filled the whole room, you could still hear the sloppy, wet sounds of your cunt as Hizashi thrust his finger in and out. You were ridiculously soaked unlike you've ever been before.

Your head tossed from side to side, choking out a strained squeal as your third orgasm for the night harshly hit you. It was powerful — painfully pleasurable. Your body convulsed, hips writhing and practically making you grind against Hizashi's mouth. Your cunt erratically clenched around his fingers as your clit pulsed underneath his tongue.

Hizashi laughed in satisfaction as your cum gushed out of you, thoroughly ruining your bedsheets and splashing all over his face and mouth. You were making one of the biggest messes he's ever seen, and he felt his cock throb at the fact that it was his doing; he was the one to have pushed you this far. Lewd slurping noises echoed as he cleaned you of your cum.

Too much, it was way too fucking much; Hizashi hadn't stopped his humming against your clit, still ravishing your pussy like a man starved for a meal. You couldn't keep up; you swore you were gonna pass out.

"Haaa... H-Hizashi! A-Avocado, Zashi, Avocado!" You yelled out your safe word.

At the sound of your safe word, your boyfriend immediately ceased all of his actions. His grip on your thighs had lessened as he pulled away from your pussy. He lifted himself, sitting on his knees as he gave you a soft smile, admiring you.

Your body practically went limp as you breathed heavily, finally being able to catch your breath. You closed your eyes, finally able to relax and ride out your high. You sighed happily as you felt Hizashi gently run his hands along your thighs and body in a soothing manner.

You had no energy at the moment, so he took it upon himself to scoop you up to pull you into his arms. He held you tightly, rocking you lovingly. You whimpered a little; everything felt so sensitive to you.

"Shh... it's okay, babygirl. You did hella good," he praised.

"Ah... I'm sorry, Zashi," you apologized.

"Wha? What are you apologizing for?" He asked, pulling away.

"Ending it early," you said.

"Hey! Don't apologize for that. I went rough on you, and you took it like a champ!" Hizashi said, playfully booping your nose.

You smiled at that; he was so considerate of you.

"Now, lemme go get you a glass of water. You wanna take a warm bath too?" He asked.

"Sure, sounds good. Feel free to join me," you said.

He grinned. "I'll take you up on that!"

You chuckled, pressing your lips to his in a quick and sweet kiss.

"Great! After I've got a bit more energy, I'll take good care of you," you said, adding in a playful wink.

Aizawa should have realistically scolded you for that little stunt you pulled. You knew better than to bother him while he busied himself with his teaching work, yet you had no qualms about sending him some provoking pictures of yourself – pictures where you sported a seductive outfit that he's never seen in your closet before. He did, however, recognize it; he saw it in the window display of an exotic store the two of you had passed by the week before. Aizawa wasn't sure if it was a coincidence that you bought it, or if you managed to catch a glimpse of the way his eyes had been glued to the outfit, imagining it on your body over the mannequin.

What he did know, however, was that the outfit looked damn good on you. Sure, he was rather displeased that you chose to provoke him while at work, but did he really care, deep down? Sure, you could have waited to surprise him when he returned home, but no, you just had to tease him, show him what was waiting for him in the bedroom. If only you hadn't sent the picture when he still had three hours to go at U.A.

He – for sure – thanked the heavens that he was able to keep a stoic, straight face; students and co-workers were none the wiser. The last thing he wanted was to be tormented by the people around him over a flustered state.

"You better still be wearing that when I get home, kitten," is what Aizawa had texted you after snapping out his stupor.

He knew you understood that it wasn't wishful thinking on his part, it was a demand. But obedient as you were, Shouta was sure that he'd find you pretty and sprawled out on the bed, ready for him.

And when he saw you, with the scandalous outfit clinging to your curves, he had to say that it looked so much better in person – better than the photo you sent, and clearly better than the fantasies he had conjured up.

"Look at you," he said, stalking towards the bed where you laid, like a predator approaching its prey.

You looked so damn cute. There was this innocent front that you put on for him, though Shouta knew better. He knew that, behind the mask of purity, there was a mischievous gleam in your eyes; you knew damn well what you were doing, but you played your role adequately.

The outfit was simple, yet efficient, which was exactly how Aizawa liked his lingerie; too many straps, clips and wires made things complicated when all he wanted to do was rip the clothes off your body.

You wore a beautifully detailed, black bustier that was overlapped in black floral lace. The fabric hugged your body to absolute perfection, certainly bringing out the best of your curves. The piece was hemmed with a ruffled eyelash trim that gave off a cute and elegant sense. The bustier was perfected with ribbon stitching, a small and cute bow resting between your breasts. A pair of sheer black, thigh-high stockings hugged your legs, making them all the more appealing; the simple accessory really brought attention to your legs.

Normally, he'd be annoyed at you for wearing shoes in the bed, but Aizawa couldn't quite bring himself to care at the moment; those captivating stiletto heels could stay.

And of course, how could he not notice the cute headband in your hair, giving you the cutest little cat ears. You just wanted to drive him crazy, didn't you?

You sat at the edge of the bed. "Do you like it, master?" You asked, making Aizawa visibly shudder at the nickname.

He was in front of you, stroking your cheek as he hummed in approval. You weren't shy about being so scandalously dressed for your boyfriend, but the heated gaze he held made your body tremble; he always managed to make you feel so small and weak. Such a relaxed man, yet his presence held much dominance which made him all the more confident in your presence.

He took a step back. "Stand up for me," he commanded, which you obeyed without a second thought.

"Good, good. Now, turn around and bend over the bed; show me that cute ass of yours," Aizawa said.

You bit your lip, feeling an arousal pool in your flimsy panties at Shouta's tone. To anybody, he would sound bored, but you knew that he was bursting with excitement, fighting the urge to just toss you onto the bed and pound into you, using your body for stress relief after a chaotic day of work.

Bending over, you placed your hands on the mattress for support. Subconsciously, you spread your legs for him, wiggling your ass as if presenting yourself to him like a cat in heat. Perhaps the same thought crossed Shouta's mind as you heard a deep chuckle resonate from him.

You heard his footsteps approaching you, and not being able to see him from your angle, you jumped in the slightest when his hand cupped your near-bare ass. He admired the matching thong you wore; it left little to the imagination. The material was so thin that he could see your pretty cunt right through the flimsy lace. You whimpered when you felt him hook his index finger into the string, running it down until he grazed against your pussy; he could feel the warmth and dampness coming from you.

Wanting to get a better look at his expression to gauge his reactions and thoughts, you turned your head to peek behind you, though you were immediately met with a disapproving glare.

"Don't you dare turn your head. Keep looking forward, kitten," he said, and you obeyed. "Good. You see, as pretty as you are for me right now, you haven't been on the best behaviour, huh? Do you want to tell me what you did?"

You mumbled something underneath your breath that was barely audible. You knew acting as such would earn you punishment, but there was a fleeting hint of embarrassment that settled into your chest at the thought of having to voice what you did to Aizawa. Even though you were both aware of what you'd done, he wanted the satisfaction of you acknowledging that you'd been rather impish today.

You yelped when his hand came down on your ass cheek, spanking the flesh in disapproval at your half-assed answer. "Speak up."

"I-I sent you pictures of myself while you were at work," you spoke up.

He hummed, rubbing at the reddened spot on your ass to soothe the ache. "You did. That's no good."

"I'm sorry, master," you said.

"I'm sure you are," he said.

You no longer felt his presence right behind you, but you didn't dare look anywhere but forwards until Shouta told you that you could move. You heard him rummaging through a drawer, and when you heard the clanging noises of metal, you knew what was coming.

"Turn around, kitten," he said.

You did so, coming face to face with your lover. In his hands, he held a collar specially tailored to you with a tag donning your initials; attached to the collar was a leash.

"Show me your neck, princess," he said.

You tilted your head upwards, allowing Shouta to wrap the collar around your neck, clicking it. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against yours with passion – hot and needy was one way to describe the exchange, as his tongue slipped past your parted lips to lap at the roof of your mouth and flutter against the tip of your tongue.

Pulling away, he looked at you differently; his dominant side had diminished in the slightest and was replaced with something a bit softer. "Colour?" He asked, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with the situation.

"Green, master," you answered with a soft smile that he returned.

Another quick peck to your lips, and he was back to his previous state of control over your being. He made sure to – quite literally – keep you on a tight leash, tugging at it to thoroughly press you against him.

"On your knees," he said, even going as far as gripping your hair and adding slight pressure to your head to prompt you downwards.

You fell to your knees, never breaking eye contact with Shouta, though a tug to your leash sufficed to break you out of your trance, causing you to shift your attention to his erection bulging through his pants.

Another tug signalled you to stop staring and get to work. Wasting no time, you pulled his slacks and boxers down, allowing his hardened cock some freedom. You slowly glided your tongue along his shaft and, reaching the tip, you gathered onto your tongue the salty pre-cum that had pooled. Aizawa let out a low, satisfied groan as your tongue moved back and forth along his sensitive tip.

"Look at me," he said, tugging at your leash.

You did as he asked, looking him in the eye as you kept working your tongue on his cock. You gave him a cute smile, giving him your best bedroom eyes as you began stroking him. You were slow, trying to see if you could tease him, but that goal soon faded as he gave a thrust against your hand and lips, signalling you to pick up the pace.

Getting the message, you swirled your tongue one last time around the underside of his tip, moving to lick a stripe up his frenulum before taking him into your mouth, going as deep as your throat could handle for the time being.

He threw his head back, lips parting as a groan escaped him at the feeling of your warm mouth finally enveloping him.

With every passing second, you grew in momentum as your throat became much more accustomed to the intrusion. As you managed to swallow around him, it tightened up your throat around his cock, making Aizawa moan in approval at the action.

The sounds he made were gorgeous. Those low, guttural groans and pleasured moans — each of them went straight to your cunt, causing more of your arousal to drip past your lips.

You spread your legs, snaking a hand beneath your panties as you began stroking your needy clit. Though as much as Shouta appreciated the vibrations your little moans sent along his cock, he wouldn't have you focus on anything but him for the moment; your pleasure would come soon.

And so, with a rather harsh tug at your leash, you yelped when you were jolted forwards, making you take his cock so deeply that you gagged. Looking up at him with big, glossy eyes, you slowed your movements as you stared at him confusedly.

"Keep your legs shut, kitten; it's not your turn," he said. "And I didn't say you could stop, so keep sucking."

Your hand was out of your panties, knees clamped back together. You immediately continued sucking at his cock, taking him with much more fervor than before as if you were trying to apologize for misbehaving.

"Ah... fuck. That's my good girl," he moaned.

His free hand tangled in your hair as he thrust his hips to meet you halfway, fucking your face as gently as possible.

"Remember: tap my thigh — fuck — twice if you want to stop," he reminded.

You placed your hand on both his thighs, rubbing at his skin with your thumbs to signal him that you were okay. You loved just how considerate Shouta was of your wellbeing.

"Hm... princess, keep looking at me," he said. "There you go. Shit, you're making a mess, aren't you?"

Drool dribbled down your chin, trailing all the way down to your chest. Some strings of your saliva even found their way to the floor. The blowjob had gotten messy; Shouta's thrusts into your mouth had quickened as he chased his orgasm.

"Okay, princess, 'm gonna cum soon. You want it on your face?" He asked breathlessly.

You managed to hum around him, gripping tightly onto his thighs for leverage as his thrusts became sloppy. You could feel his cock throbbing; he was close.

"Yess... ah fuck. I'm cummin'," he said, quickly slipping out of your mouth. "Stick your tongue out, princess," he growled.

You did as he said, parting your lips and letting your tongue drop, watching in anticipation as Shouta rapidly pumped his cock. Your breathing was laboured as you caught your breath.

Low growls and groans resonated from deep within his chest, curses being muttered as his warm cum gushed right onto your face. You clenched your eyes shut with every spurt, catching some of the thick ropes onto your tongue. Some of it dribbled down your chin, but you had to commend Shouta's aim for not getting any of the sticky substance into your hair.

The movement of his hand slowed as his orgasm neared its end, riding down his high with heavy breaths. Looking down at you, he chuckled at the mess he's made of your features, yet you somehow managed to look pretty even with his cum littering you, especially when you gave him that cute, dazed smile of yours.

Using his fingers, Shouta wiped some of the strings off your face. Bringing his fingers to your lips, he had to choke down a groan as you took his cum-soaked fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue to clean them.

"You did so good, kitten. Now, let's get you cleaned up, then I'll take very good care of you."

You were in a good enough mood just a mere minute ago, though that attitude soon crumbled and turned into something much sourer. You blamed yourself for that, inwardly chiding yourself for changing into your preferred nightwear right in front of your mirror. Perhaps you were being dramatic, but you couldn’t help the way your expression scrunched into one of distaste as you took in your physique.

You didn't want to see your body; you didn't want to be reminded of how revolting you thought it was.

You should look away from the mirror and put a damn shirt on. You knew that you shouldn't torture your own emotions in such a way, but there was something about the mess that kept your attention, making you unable to pry your eyes away.

You were grateful that your husband had taken it upon himself to tuck in your sweet daughter for the night; he wasn't there to see the way your lips were pressed into a thin line in a weak attempt to suppress the tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. You didn't want Shouto to see the way you looked at yourself with such disdain.

You didn't know why you were so ashamed of your insecurities, why you wanted to keep them away from Shouto. After all, you trusted him, and he was such a considerate man that would rush to your side the moment you were remotely upset. Had you been doing that good of a job in hiding your self-doubt that he hadn't taken notice? Then again, he could be rather dense at times.

A shaky hand placed itself on your stomach, and you recoiled in the slightest when your fingers made contact with it, as if you'd just touched the most searing flames.

And the tears fell when you traced the numerous stretch marks that polluted your body. They were a normal result of your pregnancy, and you knew that, but they were still absolutely unsightly to you. You couldn't see anything else; they were all you could see, and it disheartened you to no end.

Despite having done a good job at losing most of the excess weight you'd put on with your pregnancy, you concluded that you still had quite a bit of loose skin. You tugged at it, practically mocking yourself in the process. 

It wasn't that bad. The reality was that your stomach wasn't that stretchy, but it was all you could see along with the marks. You could only see what you thought were the glaring flaws that had appeared over the years — flaws that you didn't have before.

God, you felt like shit. You wished you could have the body you used to have before being pregnant with Aimi. You felt unattractive, undesirable and unworthy of Shouto.

Shouto, God Shouto was gorgeous. You knew it, his fans knew it, the media knew it, the whole world knew it. You thought you looked so out of place next to him. 

Your self-esteem had taken such a shit turn that you managed to convince yourself that your body was no longer appealing to your husband. You couldn't bear the thought of him looking at you with the same disdain you held for yourself.

For that exact reason, you couldn't remember the last time you made love with the lights on. 

No longer able to take the sight before you, you fumbled to rapidly cover yourself with the night shirt you'd been violently clutching throughout your inner battle.

Panic settled in your chest when you heard footsteps approach your bedroom. Knowing fully that your face was soaked with tears, you hurriedly wiped at your eyes and cheeks with your forearm. You looked into the mirror, running your fingers through your hair to make it seem like you'd been doing anything but crying over your physical appearance. Soon enough, Shouto entered your shared bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

You found the strength to smile at him. "Was she any trouble?"

"So energetic today," he said. "It took quite some time to get her to sleep. But otherwise, no."

Shouto pulled his shirt over his head, leaving him bare-chested and only wearing some loose sweatpants. He rolled his shoulders, craning his neck and groaning as he felt his bones pop. Discarding his shirt into the hamper, he walked over to you to give you a loving hug from behind. His chin rested on top of your head, and his hands moved to your stomach so he could cradle you against his body.

The way you flinched when his hands made contact with your stomach was involuntary. You normally didn't mind, but in your current mindset, you felt so self-aware and vulnerable. You tried to relax in his grasp, not wanting him to notice, and you were rather sure that he was oblivious, thankfully.

You turned to face him, wrapping your arms to bring him down into a sweet kiss. No matter how horrendous you felt, you couldn't find it in yourself to distance yourself from Shouto's affection.

He smiled fondly at you when you pulled away, though that smile soon faltered when he took a good look at you. There was a glimmer of worry that flashed through his eyes as he cupped your cheek.

"Are you okay, love?" He asked.

"Ha? Why do you ask?" You ask.

"Your eyes are all red."

Your blood ran cold as you rummaged your brain for a believable excuse. "O-Oh! Don't worry, my allergies must be acting up again."

He blinked. "Oh… have you taken your pills?"

You shook your head. "No, I haven't."

"Why don't you get settled in bed? I'll go get them for you," he said, flashing you a very soft smile before heading out the room and towards the bathroom.

Making yourself comfortable on your side of the bed, you sighed dejectedly. You felt horrible, lying to Shouto like that. You tried not to think about it too much, getting beneath the sheets.

Shouto came back, handing you an allergy pill and a glass of water which you took with a little 'thank you'. You sat up, and while you chugged down your pill, Shouto joined you in bed.

You both turned off the lamps on your nightstands before lying down. Shouto stretched his arms over his head, giving you an opening to rest your head on his toned chest. He chuckled at your cuddly behaviour, draping his arm over your body.

"I've managed to get a day off after tomorrow," Shouto said. 

"You did?"

He hummed. "I was thinking of asking Fuyumi to look after Aimi for the day. We haven't had a day to ourselves in some time, and I've been missing you quite a bit."

"That would be nice, Sho. I'm never going to say no to having my husband all to myself for a full day," you said with a smile. "It'd be good for you too; you need some rest."

You looked up at him to kiss his jaw. "How about I call her for you? I know you've got a lot of work to do tomorrow."

He nodded, holding you tighter. "If you can, yes. Thank you, love."

Ready to go to sleep, you turned to your side, and Shouto immediately rolled over as well, pressing himself against you and sliding his arm underneath your neck. He always did love being the big spoon.

When he draped his arm over your waist, his hand rested on your stomach, causing you to flinch once again in discomfort. You hated yourself so much for it, especially when Shouto sat up and turned on his side's lamp. Reluctantly, you turned to look at him.

"(Y/N), what's wrong? This is the second time you've flinched at my touch this night," he asked, and you wanted to cry at the disheartened tone in his voice.

You'd been so sure that he had not noticed your earlier behaviour. Your husband was dense, sure, but he wasn't a moron.

"N-Nothing's wrong, Shouto. Don't worry about it!" You said. "Let's just go to bed."

"Have I done something to upset you?" He asked; his expression was comparable to that of a kicked puppy.

You shot right back up, frantically shaking your head. "No! You didn't do anything wrong; I promise."

He cupped your cheek, running his hand down to your neck to rub soothing circles with his fingers. "Then, what's bothering you? I'm here for you; you know that, right?"

You nodded. "I know, I know. I just — it's stupid. Let's just talk about it tomorrow, okay?" You said, trying to get him to drop the subject.

You both knew that you wouldn't talk about it the next day; you'd try to laugh it off as if it had never happened. 

"You were crying before I came into the room, weren't you?" He said.

And just like that your lips quivered as a few tears fell. Too many emotions coursed through you at once; you felt guilty that you'd lied to Shouto, angry that you hadn't been subtle, and ashamed that you were worrying him over something so petty.

"L-Like I said, it's stupid," you said.

He brought you into a hug, now thoroughly worried about the cause of your sorrow. "It's far from being stupid if it's causing you this much distress. I won't force you to talk, but… I hate seeing my sweetheart so upset."

You nodded, pulling away from the hug and wiping at your eyes. Shouto was patient with you, waiting for you to calm down and not pushing you to spit it out.

It took a good minute or two for you to gather your thoughts enough to ask him: "Do I, um… you know. Do I look okay?"

Shouto blinked, tilting his head in confusion. You sighed, not really wanting to have to repeat yourself, but you needed to be much more precise with him.

"What I mean by that is: do I look good? Attractive, pretty, whatever. I just wanna know if you still find me attractive," you said, rephrasing yourself.

Shouto legitimately looked baffled at your question. "What? Of course I do! Baby, you're beautiful. Why would you ask that? Has someone been putting you down?"

You shook your head. "It's just that… ever since I gave birth to Aimi, my body hasn't been the same. I've got so many stretch marks, and I'm, well, bigger than I was."

"But that's normal, love."

"I know, but I can't help but feel gross and unattractive. I feel like I don't have any more appeal," you said, sniffling as you felt your eyes gloss over. "And I'm so scared that you think the same."

Shouto swore that his heart shattered in millions of pieces at that. He didn't know that you've been thinking so lowly of your body lately, and it tore him to see how much it affected you.

"Baby, no," he cooed softly, bringing you into another hug. "Is this why you've been insisting on having sex with the lights off, and why you don't want to take showers together anymore?"

You nodded, erupting into another fit of tears. He shushed you, softly rocking you while holding you tightly against him. "You are not disgusting. I don't care that you have stretch marks. You drive me crazy — always have and always will. Nothing's going to change that."

He pulled away from the hug, though he still held your shoulders. "You're beautiful, (Y/N)."

"I don't feel like I am…" you mumbled.

"But you are," he said, cupping both of your cheeks and leaning his forehead against yours. "Please, believe me when I say that you are."

"Thank you…"

He leaned down to press his lips against yours. "Would you let me make you feel amazing? I want to get those thoughts out of your head."

You knew what he was asking. Biting your lip, you nodded. "Okay, but aren't you tired?"

"It doesn't matter," he said. "Now, lie down for me."

You complied, lying on your back and resting your head against the fluffy pillows. Shouto crawled over your body, hovering over and leaning down to press a quick yet deep kiss to your lips. 

"Just sit back, relax and enjoy yourself, okay?" He said.

The look in his gorgeous, heterochromatic eyes had you in a trance. On one hand, you found it difficult to hold his passionate, determined gaze without feeling your entire body heating up, but on the other hand, you couldn't pull away. You were anticipating his next move, though he seemed busy admiring your features; his eyes shifted between your own and your lips.

You visibly shuddered when Shouto licked his lips before nibbling at them. The way he looked at you — as if you were a delicious-looking, luxurious meal — quickened your heartbeat. 

And before you could even realize what was happening, his lips were on yours once more. The fluttering of his tongue against your lips prompted you to part them, allowing him to swirl the tip of his tongue against yours.

Shouto was never rough when it came to French-kissing; he always took it slowly and sensually. He knew how to make good use of his tongue, never failing to make you wet with a few kisses, and tonight was no different — as Shouto moaned against your mouth while gently sucking at your tongue, you could feel your body relaxing, nearly forgetting about your worries.

As he pulled away, a very thin string of saliva snapped. He looked down at you, admiring you with a smile. He cupped your cheek and traced the outline of your lips with his thumb.

"Look at you. Such beautiful, plump lips," he said, leaning down for a quick peck. "Such an amazing kisser too. You know that, right? I can never get enough of you."

You looked up at him with big, glossy eyes, and you could see nothing but genuine love in his own. Maybe you shouldn't doubt him when he compliments you.

He chuckled. "Cute. Keep looking at me like that; it'll make me crave you even more than I already did."

Suddenly, you felt your insecurities come running back when Shouto gripped at the hem of your shirt. Instinctively, you grabbed his wrists to prevent him from pulling it up.

Your husband took notice of the way you shook and whimpered in discomfort, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't sadden him. He let go of your shirt, undoing himself from the grip you had on his wrists so that he could intertwine his fingers with yours.

"Shh… it's okay, baby," he cooed, squeezing your hands reassuringly. "Do you trust me?"

You took a few deep breaths, exhaling shakily as you tried to get your shit together. This was ridiculous — this was your husband, for crying out loud! A man as sweet as Shouto wouldn't treat you like scum, and damn straight you trusted him with your entire being! Pushing down your negative thoughts, you eventually nodded; you had to applaud Shouto's incredible patience with you.

"I do," you said.

He smiled, taking your shirt between his fingers once more before lifting it, all the while gliding his hands along every inch of your skin that was revealed to him. Once the shirt was up to your neck, you took it upon yourself to fully remove it for him, leaving you bare for him to admire. You bit your lip, trying to avoid his gaze as you felt beyond self-conscious.

But when you gathered your courage and looked at him in the eye, you saw nothing but awe — there was no hint of disgust in your lover's eyes, and you couldn't help but start feeling a little stupid. He still looked at you the same way he did when you first began dating — that hadn't changed.

You sucked in a breath when his hands ran along your breasts, thumbs grazing your hardened nipples. He trailed his hands all over your chest, ribs and stomach, causing you to shudder at the stimulation.

"I'm beyond lucky to have you as my wife. I never thought I'd ever have a chance with you," Shouto said.

Him? Unsure that he'd have a chance with you? Impossible — that was impossible, right? He was goddamn Shouto Todoroki; an amazing, gorgeous man. You were the one who should feel lucky, and you did! But, Shouto wasn't one to lie. You believed him, and you hung on to his words.

He made sure to make it obvious that he was thoroughly checking out your body; he wanted you to see the way his breathing became more and more laboured as he took your figure in, how his eyes hazed with pure desire.

"Wow," he exhaled. "You're so goddamn gorgeous. You have such an incredible body."

"I do?" You asked.

He nodded. "Yes, you do. There is absolutely nothing wrong with your body. You're perfect just the way you are, and I'm never going to look at you with anything but love and desire."

You wanted to cry — tears of happiness. You felt so overwhelmed, but it was just what you needed, especially since you knew that Shouto wasn't merely spewing pretty words that you wanted to hear. He was blunt, truthful.

You wrapped your arms around him, bringing him down for a hot, needy kiss. His chest pressed against your breasts, making your core ache. Both your bodies' heat fused with one another, and it was beyond scorching.

You were very-much aware of Shouto's erection, sitting snugly between your legs. Your hips writhed, attempting to grind against him in the slightest. At that your husband pulled away with a small smirk before leaning to your ear.

"You feel that?" He asked, grinding against you. "This is the effect you have on me."

You moaned softly when he pressed a kiss right below your ear before lowering himself to your neck, using his fingers to gently tilt your chin up. He pressed a multitude of kisses along your neck, feeling your throat rumble underneath his lips as you moaned. He sucked at your flesh, soothing the areas with gentle flicks of his tongue afterwards. He was, however, careful as to not leave any deep, purple bruises. Your hand had buried itself in his hair as you hissed and writhed in pleasure underneath him.

As he lowered himself to your collarbone, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive flesh, you closed your eyes contentedly. Admittedly, you were enjoying the way Shouto was treating your body. You began feeling sacred.

And then you had to clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle the moans threatening to slip past your lips as he rapidly flicked his tongue against your nipple, all the while teasing the other one with gentle strokes of his thumb.

Once he stopped stimulating your chest, you watched in anticipation as he trailed his tongue down your body, going lower and lower and leaving a trail of glistening saliva in his wake.

And then, he made it to your stomach — the one area of your body that destroyed your confidence. He pressed so many butterfly kisses to the area, and despite being face-first in what you thought to be a disgusting mess of marks, he didn't seem to be grossed out. In fact, you could feel all the love pouring out of his kisses.

"You know," he began, resting his cheek on your stomach, "I believe that these marks show just how strong you are. To have carried our beautiful daughter — you're so strong, baby. They do not ruin your body. You were beautiful without them, but you're just as beautiful with them."

There was a stray tear that fell down your cheek. You smiled and quickly wiped at it. "Shouto… thank you."

"There's no need to thank me," he said.

Hooking his fingers into your bottoms, you raised your hips to allow him to slide them down your legs. Gripping the soft, plump flesh of your thighs, he spread your legs, completely exposing you to him.

He brought his face closer to your pussy, and you shivered at the coolness of his icy breath fanning against your heat. A few kisses against your inner thighs, but there wasn't much teasing; Shouto seemed eager to dig his tongue through your lips.

Minding your volume as much as you could, you exhaled shakily as your body trembled when Shouto slowly licked from your entrance up to your clit. Gentle flicks of his tongue against your clit were enough to make you clench your eyes shut at the waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body.

You reached for your lover, digging your fingers into his hair and massaging his scalp. You were rewarded with hums of approval from Shouto, sending some pleasant vibrations.

He slid two of his slender fingers deep inside your pussy, moaning against you upon realizing just how aroused you were. His fingers thrusted into you at a slow, steady pace, making sure to massage your most sensitive spot with every pump. Pursing his lips, he sucked at your clit, making you grip at his hair in an attempt to focus on anything but the pleasure you felt.

"Hm… Shouto," you moaned.

He chuckled. Knowing that he was making you feel good was enough to make his cock throb; he could get off to your pleasure alone, if he were being honest.

The tip of his tongue pulsed against your clit before flattening the muscle, shifting between lateral and circular motions. His techniques were calculated and confident, keeping his pace steady and taking care to drag his tongue along the hood and sides of your clit as well, leaving no part of you untouched. His saliva dripped down to your entrance, mingling with your lube and making your pussy all the more wet.

Your body quivered and jolted, and looking down at him, you caught his gaze. He looked so fucking sexy between your legs like that — god he was perfect. You could cum right there, just looking at those pretty eyes of this.

His fingers grew in momentum, and you could hear the sloppy, wet sounds of your pussy with every push; droplets of your excitement splashed on his face, and he fucking loved it. Your eyes rolled back as your breath caught in your throat when Shouto began sucking at your clit once again, over and over again.

You were panting by now, completely drunk off the ecstasy and messing Shouto's hair with your grip. He was so good — always ravishing your pussy in ways that left you speechless and breathless.

"F-Fuck! Ha… Shouto, please," you tried to form a coherent sentence, but it was difficult when all your body wanted was for you to moan your lover's name.

"What is it, love?" He asked.

"Hm… c'mere and give me your cock, please," you managed to say.

"If that's what you want," he said, pressing a sweet kiss to your inner thigh before shedding his sweatpants.

He didn't skip a beat, crawling over you and sliding his cock deep inside of you, filling you until he bottomed out. He hissed at the warmth enveloping him, loving how your cunt quivered around him. Your limbs wrapped around your husband: your legs hugged his waist, keeping him snug against you while your arms wrapped around his neck.

He snapped his hips, slowly but deeply; he made sure that you felt every inch of his cock. You panted, moaning softly through parted lips as your nails dug into his skin.

With the tip of your tongue sticking out of your mouth, he found that your swollen lips looked so inviting. You must have caught on to the way he stared at them as you pushed at the back of his head, pulling him down for a fiery, passion-filled kiss. Your tongue glided against his. Your kiss muffled the moans escaping the both of you with every thrust.

You weren't fucking; you were making love. You were both tired, so it was expected for you to be on the lazier, slower side for the night, but that didn't matter to you. This felt just as good — different, but good, and it was exactly the kind of loving you needed at the moment; this was intimacy at its finest.

"Fuck — I love you so much," Shouto groaned in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

His pace picked up as he said that, his own words edging him on. You were thankful that your mattress wasn't all that creaky.

Your eyes rolled back, seeing stars from the onslaught of pleasurable waves traversing your body. Shouto's cock was right on your sweet spot, continuously gliding against it with every snap of his hips. His pubic bone hit your clit as well, only adding to your pleasure.

"My pretty babygirl," he groaned through gritted teeth. "You feel so good… gonna make me cum soon."

He suddenly sat up on his knees, gripping at your thighs. "I'm gonna put your legs over my shoulders, alright?"

You nodded, and through your haze, your barely registered Shouto bringing your legs over his shoulders, but you definitely did register the sharp shockwave in your core as he thrust his large cock into you.

God you loved this position. The way your legs were shut made Shouto's cock hit absolutely every angle, every little bit of your cunt, and you knew that he loved the extra tightness that came with it.

"F-Fuck! Shouto… god!" You moaned.

"Hm… you like that, don't you, love?" Shouto said. "You — fuck — you look absolutely beautiful from up here. Such a sight for sore eyes."

How could he not admire you when you looked so goddamn seductive underneath him? Your skin was flushed a deep shade of red, yet it glistened with a thin coat of sweat. Your hair was matted, but to him, it added to your charm; it just told him that he'd done a good job in making you lose yourself. The way your breasts bounced with every thrust of his hips caught his eye, but perhaps his biggest turn-ons were the way your eyes rolled back and how your pretty lips parted whenever he hit a particularly delicate spot. He hoped you'd understand what he saw in you whenever he was the one to lay eyes on you.

"You're gonna cum soon, aren't you?" He groaned, picking up the speed as he chased your orgasm as well as his own.

You hummed enthusiastically. "Y-Yeah! Keep going just like that! R-Right there baby," you began rambling incoherently as your orgasm quickly built up, causing an ache to settle in your stomach that you desperately needed to release.

"That's it baby. C'mon, cum for me."

And you did. It was a rather soft orgasm, but one that still had your back arching. Your hips involuntarily jolted, projecting forwards and meeting Shouto's thrusts halfway. Your cum dribbled onto your lover's skin, and he threw his head back at the way your cunt quivered erratically around him, thoroughly milking him.

Groaning and muttering curses, he quickened his pace once more, though he was still mindful as to not overstimulate you in the process of chasing his own release.

And when he felt it close, he leaned down to kiss you with fervor, muffling his guttural groans as he emptied his load of cum deep inside you. Your legs were still over his shoulders, so your knees folded against your chest in the process, allowing him such a deep access to your cunt.

You were so glad he'd kissed you; it stifled your own moans that you just couldn't hold back upon feeling your husband's cum enter you.

You stayed connected as such for a few minutes, snuggling one another as you rode down your high. Your breaths were hot and heavy as were your bodies, but you could only sigh in satisfaction when Shouto cooled down his right side, replacing the scorching heat with a bit of frigid air.

"I might get pregnant again," you mumbled with a soft chuckle, rubbing your husband's back.

He returned your laughter, rolling off of you and laying right next to you. His palm rested against your thigh, soothingly tracing some patterns with his fingertips.

"We'll get you some Plan B tomorrow," he said.

"I never said that it bothers me if it were to happen again," you said shyly.

He looked at you, quirking a brow. "Oh? Well, I guess we'll have to see what happens then, huh?"

You both turned to face each other.

"How are you feeling, love?" He asked.

"Much better, Sho. Thank you for taking care of me," you said with a genuine smile.

"Like I said: there's no need to thank me. Just, don't be afraid to come to me with your insecurities; they are not stupid!"

You nodded. "I'll keep that in mind, Sho."

He chuckled, placing his hand over his left eye. "I don't know how you could possibly look down at yourself the way you do and think I'd do the same when my face looks rather unsightly."

"What? Shouto, no! You're so damn gorgeous!"

"Hm… strange, that's exactly what I feel when I look at you."

This was just about the ultimate test of your patience, though that patience was quickly running thin; you'd be edged into a near breakdown if this went on any longer. The torture was palpable, but you had a feeling that it was exactly what Shinsou wanted.

As you kept seated upon Shinsou's lap – your bare back pressed against his chest – while he busied himself with his studies, you had to focus on anything, anything but his hard cock seethed deep inside your pussy, but who the fuck were you kidding? With your mind so hazy and going dumb from the sheer need you felt, there was nothing that could distract you. His dorm room was eerily quiet asides from the pathetic little whimpers that fell from your lips.

Shinsou pulled a sharp gasp from you when he gave a single, deep thrust. It almost gave you hope that he'd finally cave and fuck your greedy little pussy, but that hope quickly vanished. The most pitiful whine you've ever heard sounded from you as he stilled once more inside you.

You wished that he hadn't done that; it was a cruel move on his part that left you unsatisfied and craving his cock even more, and Hitoshi knew what he was doing to you — enjoyed it, even. You couldn't see him, but you knew damn well that the bastard's lips had curled into a satisfied smirk upon hearing your pathetic whining.

"Are you feeling alright there, kitten?" Shinsou cooed, though you could hear the slight mockery in his tone. "What's it like just sitting on my cock like that? Hm? Comfy?"

You wanted to avoid giving Hitoshi the satisfaction of being so fucking sexually frustrated, but the hot arousal seeping from you, and your deep and laboured breaths gave you away.

Desperation soon overwhelmed you, causing you to slowly writhe your hips in an attempt to get even the slightest amount of friction. You hoped to be subtle in your actions, not wanting Hitoshi to take notice – a stupid thought, really. How you thought that your lover wouldn't take notice of your attempts at riding his cock, you didn't know. He really was turning you into a lustful moron.

"Tsk. Did I say anything about moving? Don't think – not for one damn second – you're being subtle there, kitten," Shinsou muttered; his warm breath hitting your ear as he gripped at your hips to firmly hold you in place.

His voice – the way he spoke to you – had you shuddering. Despite the calm tonality, unrelenting dominance dripped from his voice. It didn't tremble and had you not been feeling the occasional shudder from his hard cock inside you, you could have believed that he wasn't nearly as aroused as you were. He was in full control of the situation, of himself and his feelings. The same couldn't be said about you.

"Hitoshi, please. I just — fuck. I need you so bad," you begged, voice cracking.

Your pleas fell on deaf ears. "No can do, darling. S'nice and warm in there. I'm very comfortable, so hold still."

"Toshi..."

"C'mon, pretty little thing," he whispered in your ear. "You can do that for me. Just do what I say, and I'll take especially good care of you when I feel that you deserve it."

"W-When's that gonna be?" You asked.

His chest vibrated as he laughed lowly, finding your desperate state amusing. "Aw, look at you. It's not like you to be so impatient. And here I thought I'd tamed you properly; seems like I have more work to do, but let me say this: the more you squirm, the longer you'll wait."

You groaned, finding it nearly impossible to resist the temptation of moving; you were just dying to have that deliciously large cock split you apart. How Shinsou was able to keep his shit together during this entire ordeal was beyond you. Compared to him, you were laughable, and you knew that he loved it. Perhaps you did too, being his little plaything – more than you cared to admit.

You knew that you damn well could defy him and slam yourself on his thighs, fucked yourself dumb on his cock, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. He didn't even have to brainwash you; Hitoshi had you wrapped around his finger, only needing to make use of his quirk when you were being exceptionally bratty. He had you whimpering and submitting to him so effortlessly. That lazy, yet confident dominance radiating off him had you weak at the knees.

"Shit, kitten," he groaned. "That is one sloppy cunt you've got there. You're leaking all over me."

You felt the slight humiliation settle in your chest when you became aware of the generous quantities of your slick dribbling down his cock and into the fabric of his jeans that he hadn't bothered sliding down, possibly seeping through them. Neither of you would be surprised, judging by the dark, wet patch that had pooled on your lover.

Hitoshi bucked his hips once more, earning a strained moan from you. Tingles ran down your spine as the aching in your core became insufferable.

"Hitoshi! S-Stop doing that," you said.

"Oops," He mocked, loving how much he was breaking you.

You weren't certain if your ears had deceived you, but you swore you heard a slight waver in Shinsou's voice, as if he too was on the brink of letting his arousal take over. Perhaps, if you begged for more in that broken, needy tone of yours he loved so much, he'd finally fill you up with some cum.

"Please, babe, I'm so fucking horny for you. I need that fat cock to fuck me," you pleaded, not caring about your pride at the moment. "I know you want it too."

"Are you trying to sweet talk me into moving?" Shinsou chuckled. "Nice try, but it's not happening yet."

Of course, he wouldn't give in so easily. You stayed silent, trying your best to stay as still as possible and hoping to God Shinsou would come around sooner or later. Your core was fucking stirring from the sensation of his dick remaining firmly plugged deep inside of you, not providing any relief but instead serving as a way to tease you, taunt you and remind you that he was in control.

Your breaths grew increasingly hot and heavy as Hitoshi's cock pulsed up and down inside of you, just barely tickling your most sensitive area. Judging by the laughter coming from your lover, he was doing this intentionally.

"You're fucking cruel," you whined. Your throat was dry, and you sounded dehydrated. With that, a hand found its way to your throat, wrapping around it. He didn't squeeze harshly; it served more as a warning.

"Watch your tone with me, kitten," he warned. "I'm just having some fun with you."

As his hand fell from your throat, soft lips pressed against your neck, gently sucking at the overly sensitive flesh. A mixture between a whine and a moan escaped you when you felt Hitoshi's tongue trail along your pulse. Your skin was hot; you felt like it was ablaze. Minimal movements of his tongue and lips were enough to have you shivering and whimpering, only intensifying the difficulty of remaining still.

You couldn't help yourself when you moved your hands to your pussy, pressing your fingers against your clit. The slight touch was enough to send a multitude of shockwaves coursing throughout your body. It almost felt too sensitive; all of your senses were beyond crazed.

No matter how stupid the thought was, you hoped Hitoshi wouldn't take notice of the way your fingers rubbed your swollen nub. Subtlety was going out the door as you picked up the pace, moaning and desperate for an orgasm, though your wrists were soon seized by your lover, gripping them tightly as he placed your hands on his desk.

He clicked his tongue in both annoyance and disappointment at your needy defiance – you knew better. "Keep being like that, and I'll tie you up and walk away. S'that what you want? Hm? Tell me, kitten, do you really want me to leave your pretty little pussy a dripping mess with the inability to pleasure yourself? Maybe I'd get off right in front of you – gonna show you what you're missing."

When you didn't answer him, Shinsou wrapped a large hand around your neck once more. Although not restricting airflow, he applied more pressure than the last time, making sure to remind you that he was the one in charge.

"Is it?" He pressed.

"No..." you choked out, breathing a bit more forcefully due to the added pressure.

"That's what I thought," he said, lessening the pressure. His thumb and index rubbed at the skin he'd been grasping with some soft and soothing circles. He then removed his hand from your throat. "Now, you're gonna keep your hands on the desk. Think you can hold for another ten minutes?"

"I don't know... maybe?" You said.

"Try again, love."

"Y-Yeah, I can wait ten minutes," you said.

He hummed in approval at your answer. "Good girl. Now, don't touch yourself, and don't try to ride my cock. If you can hold still for another ten minutes, I'll give you what you want," Shinsou said, thrusting into you for emphasis. "Do you think you can handle that?"

You nodded, humming since you didn't trust your voice at the moment. You were torn between crying in desperation at the thought of having to wait any longer, and crying for joy because it was just ten minutes. You could handle that, right?

"That's good. Don't disappoint me. To be honest, you haven't been on the best of behaviours tonight. I'm giving you this last chance to prove to me that you're deserving of my cock," he said. "I don't necessarily want to use my quirk on you, but if you can't behave, well..."

You moaned under your breath; you weren't going to disappoint! You wanted it, and you were going to earn it, but Shinsou wasn't making it easy for you to sit still. He whispered absolute filth to you, making sure you felt his warm breath on your ear as he told you what he'd do to you, how he'd break you and make you scream with pleasure. His tongue occasionally trailed along your earlobe; he loved the way your body uncontrollably shivered at the simple gesture.

His fingers dug into your inner thighs, thumbs ghosting over your puffy lips and giving your clit some very soft flicks that left you dying for more touch. His hands would slither up your body to grip at your breasts, making sure to take your nipples between his fingers.

Everything he said and did – he made it a challenge for you to keep nesting his cock. How the hell could you stay calm with Hitoshi pushing your limits like he was?

You let out a strained cry when Hitoshi's fingers found their way back to your clit, pressing down but making no moves to stimulate you. You could feel your clit pulsing against his fingers, begging for some attention, and you had to bite your tongue and press your lips into a thin line to prevent yourself from uttering a comment that would have Hitoshi's disapproval – the last thing you wanted was for him to extend your waiting time.

"Shhh... it's okay, it's okay," he cooed, attempting to soothe your mind, but the attention only further set your body in flames.

You tried not to look at the digital clock on his desk; looking at the time would only make you feel like a minute was an hour. Distractions – what could you use to distract yourself? What could you focus on? Nothing, absolutely nothing. All you had on your mind was cumming. Shinsou had truly managed to turn you into a nearly mindless, sex-crazed maniac, and he'd barely done anything to you!

"Almost there, baby, almost there," he encouraged softly; he pressed some more kisses to your neck, nibbling with a bit more urgency than previously. "You're doing good, kitten."

Through sheer willpower, you survived the ten minutes; the reward at the end of those ten minutes motivated you to play along Shinsou's little game.

"Seems like you've learned a bit of patience, huh? Good girl," Shinsou cooed. "Now, let's see how many times I can make you cum. Hm?"

Gripping at your hips, he pushed you up as he stood from his chair as well, keeping you bent over his desk. You groaned at the feeling of Shinsou pulling out briefly; you'd gotten so used to being stuffed throughout the night. You heard the rustling of fabric and looking back, you saw your lover stepping out of his jeans. While one hand remained gripped at your hips, the other travelled up your back until it was pressed between your shoulder blades.

And all you could think was 'finally' as Hitoshi slid back into your cunt, pulling a loud, shameful moan from you as he was all but gentle with your body. It was just what you needed after what you'd been subjected to.

Bakugou's grip on the plump flesh of your hips was firm; you were sure that your skin would be painted with pale, purple bruises shaped like his hands once he was done with you. Your swollen lips glistened with your boyfriend's saliva from the heated, passionate kisses he'd given you; there was a string of drool that dripped down your chin.

Your chest heaved as you took shallow breaths, feeling your whole body heating to searing temperatures underneath Bakugou's fierce, carnal gaze. Your eyes were wide and damp, peering at him in anticipation. Trapped between the wall and his broad chest, you had no means to escape; you were a caged, prey animal completely at his mercy.

Droplets of sweat ran down his jaw, his face was flushed, and his lips were curled into a smug smirk as he took in the obvious desire written all over your features. His large, rough hands groping at your body, his tongue running along your neck with the occasional teeth being sunk into your skin, and some needy, sloppy make-out session — was that all it took to get you in such a desperate state?

Maybe you'd been hot and bothered all day. Maybe it had something to do with the suggestive positions you'd found yourselves in during class sparring sessions. He remembered how distracted you'd been when his knee accidentally found its way between your legs, pressing against your cunt. The way your face brightened in a deep shade of red and the way you nibbled at your lip was all he needed to know the effect he had on you. And don't think that he hadn't picked up on that cute, pathetic little moan you'd desperately tried to suppress.

In a quick, fluid movement, Katsuki pulled your skirt up, causing you to softly gasp in surprise at the sudden action. There was no hiding the way Bakugou laughed at how jumpy you were; it was amusing to him.

"Spread your fucking legs," he commanded in a deep, gruff tone that sent shivers running down your spine.

He smirked at your obedience, and one of his hands immediately pressed against your pussy, stroking you through the dampened materials of your flimsy, lacy panties, making you whimper at the sudden pressure.

"Tsk. Needy slut," he sneered, mocking you for the generous quantities of arousal pouring from you.

He didn't tease, didn't trail his fingers along your skin — no, that wasn't how Bakugou rolled, always going straight for the kill and not wasting any time. You were already dripping through your underwear and panting like the bitch you were, so what was the point in teasing you any further?

Hooking his thumb and index into the crotch of the garment, he tossed the fabric aside, exposing your pretty little cunt to him. Two long fingers dipped inside of you, and knowing your body by heart, he wasted no time in curling and pumping them right against your sweetest spot; the palm of his roughly-textured hand hit your clit with every pump.

You couldn't help yourself as you began to grind against his hand, though as soon as you'd done so, you found yourself empty as Bakugou removed his hand.

"K-Katsuki?" You whined confusedly.

"You just can't help yourself, can't you?" He said.

He suddenly grabbed your ass, pulling you away from the wall before straddling you on his thigh; his iron grip firmly held you in place.

"Since you looked so damn eager to fuck yourself on my leg in front of everyone, back there, how about you do just that. Now," he nearly growled at you.

You blinked, mild embarrassment settling in your chest. "I wasn't—"

Your words were cut by a shameful moan escaping you as Bakugou forced you into harshly grinding down onto his thigh.

"C'mon. I wasn't fucking asking, (Y/N). Make yourself cum on my thigh," he said in a low tone that hardly covered his impatience.

Nodding, you took a deep breath and began rocking your hips against him. Your pace started slow, testing the sensation. It didn't take too long for your breathing to grow laboured as the rough texture of Bakugou's jeans worked wonders on your engorged clit.

"Ha... fuck!" You moaned, surprised at how much pleasure this brought you.

While Bakugou's hands remained gripped at your plump ass, your own found their way to his shoulders, holding onto them for leverage as your pace accelerated. You could barely concentrate on anything other than the delicious bursts of pleasure traversing your body with every slide of your clit against your lover.

You briefly made eye contact with Katsuki, but mere seconds into the gaze and you were burying your face into his neck. Looking him into the eye when he had that piercing, dominant and smug look proved to be complicated. It made you feel so minuscule, so pathetic compared to him.

After all, you were the one humping his leg like a desperate bitch in heat.

"Oh no you fucking don't," Katsuki growled.

You yelped as he grasped your hair, using the strands as reins to force your head up. He gripped at your face, forcing you to look at him.

"Don't you fucking dare look away from me. Keep looking at me; I wanna see those slutty expressions of yours, got that?" He asked.

You nodded. "Y-Yes, sir!"

He smirked, and, being satisfied with your answer, he let go of your face to place his hand back to its rightful spot on your ass. He aided you in your movements, guiding you in a rough, grinding motion that had you throwing your head back in ecstasy. Though remembering that you were to look at him at all times, you corrected yourself, looking at him with an expression that almost had Katsuki lose all self-restraint.

"Fucking hell," he groaned. "Do you even know what you look like right now?"

You were a mess of incoherent curses and slurred words in your haze. Your messy hair clung to your forehead with rogue strands sticking out from your sweat, your features were flushed, your eyes watered and had darkened with nothing but pure lust, and your tongue dropped past your parted lips; you were practically drooling. You looked like a fucking pornstar.

"You're making one hell of a mess on me," Bakugou said.

You briefly looked down, noticing the dark trail of lube you left, darkening more and more with every grind of your hips. You were sure that the liquid had pooled through his jeans and onto his skin.

He found it fucking hot — watching you fuck yourself on him like that.

You squealed in delight when you felt tiny crackles of Bakugou's quirk against your ass. It pinched, but the mild pain mixed perfectly with the pleasure.

"Seriously? Of fucking course you'd like that. Goddamn whore," he growled.

You yelped again as you felt Bakugou's hand come down on your ass cheek in a harsh smack. He rubbed at the flesh, soothing the ache before giving you another smack, and another one. Over and over again, alternating which side was on the receiving end.

"S-Shit! Katsuki," you nearly screamed.

Suddenly, his hand was clamped over your mouth. "Shut the hell up! D'you want the whole dorm to hear you? Bet you would, huh?"

You violently shook your head, prompting Katsuki to remove his hand.

"That's what I thought. Now, keep it down," he warned. "Unless you want me to stuff your mouth with your own, soaked panties to gag you."

Bakugou surely wasn't making it easy for you to keep your voice down. You nearly split your lip when biting down on it to suppress your moans, especially when he began flexing the muscles in his thigh for added sensations.

"You're getting sloppy there. You gonna cum soon?" Bakugou taunted.

You nodded. "Y-Yeah! Gonna — fuck — gonna cum 'Suki."

He smirked. "Alright then, fucking do it! Cum all over me like the little whore you are."

Your orgasm hit you hard — you felt so euphoric as you released the deep ache in your stomach. Your legs shook, going numb for a hot second while cum gushed from your pussy and thoroughly ruined Bakugou's jeans. Your clit pulsed, growing more and more sensitive with every thrust until it was just too much.

"O-Okay, okay! P-Please, too much!" You pleaded, batting at Katsuki's chest for him to stop grinding you onto him.

He did so, letting you nuzzle yourself against his chest to ride down your high. He placed his hands against your back, supporting your tired body as his thumbs rubbed barely-noticeable circles onto you.

Though once you began calming down, he leaned down to your ear.

"I'm not done with you. Enjoy your little break while it lasts."

You didn't bother opening your eyes when the sound of your bed creaking, accompanied by rustling sheets, reached your ears. Damn yourself for being a light sleeper. You didn't feel as though you were fully rested, though you could most likely blame the feeling on your desire to remain in bed for the rest of your day off – the only day of the week when your schedule aligned with your husband's.

Though when you heard Shouta's heavy sigh, your eyes reluctantly fluttered open and through your blurry vision, you could see the figure of your husband sitting upright, rolling his shoulders to pop the bones and stretch his muscles.

Rolling to the side with your forearm wiping at your eyes to clear your vision, you took notice of the time on the digital clock atop your nightstand; it was 10 'o'clock — still too early for your liking, especially on a day off. Despite it all, you supposed you could applaud Shouta for not waking up at seven in the goddamn morning like he did last Sunday.

It was as if your husband had a built-in alarm clock system that told him to get up at the crack of dawn every single day, even if he didn't have classes to teach. For a man so overworked and sleep-deprived, it was a strange phenomenon.

You lazily reached over to Shouta, patting his hip as if you were a kitten batting its paw at something. It got your sleepy lover's attention; he turned to glance down at your fingers that were caressing him.

"Morning, Sho," you mumbled tiredly. "You're up early, again."

"It's 10," he said.

"That's my point. It's early."

"You're lazy," he stated. "Just go back to sleep."

"Can't," you said, reaching down to place your hand on his thigh. "You woke me up, and I'm probably not gonna be able to fall back asleep."

"Not my fault you're such a light sleeper, kitten. I breathe near you, and you're up," he said.

"You're exaggerating."

"Hardly."

To anyone, the blank look on Shouta's features, along with his monotone manner of speaking would allude to annoyance and indifference, but you knew better. There was this fondness that shined in his eyes while he looked at you, and the way his hand gently tangled with yours said otherwise.

You shuffled a bit closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You pulled with very little strength; you only wanted to prompt him to get his ass back beneath the warmth and comfort of the sheets.

"Come back to bed, Sho," you said.

"I can't, kitten," he said, caressing your arm. The gesture was loving and rather apologetic; he would definitely rather lay in bed with you. "Those exams won't grade themselves."

"But it's your day off. C'mon," you insisted, tugging a little harder.

He sighed rather dramatically, but he complied with your neediness. "Five more minutes."

You grinned, removing your arms so that he could lie down, and the second his back hit the mattress, you found yourself glued to his side. You nestled your head into the crook of Shouta's arm and rested your arm over his bare chest, all the while draping your leg over his.

"You're so clingy," Shouta complained, though there was zero malice behind his words — just his regular teasing.

"You're enjoying this too," you countered.

He hummed in agreement, immediately responding to your cuddles by cradling you against him while his unoccupied hand gently held on to your own that laid on his heart.

You sighed happily, taking in the warmth his body gave off and his smell that you've been accustomed to for so long. Your shared condo was empty — not a single sound aside from his and your breathing, and the way the sun barely peeked through the blinds made the moment all the more comforting and loving. You could fall right back asleep.

You cherished these lazy moments spent together, and you knew Shouta did as well.

"I've missed you, babe," you mumbled.

" 'M sorry, kitten. You know I've missed you too," he said, turning his head to press a soft kiss on your forehead. You had to admit: his groggy morning voice was to die for.

"I know, Sho. It's not your fault; you're busy," you said.

The best, most understanding and patient wife he could've had, Shouta thought. A teacher by day, and a hero by night — he didn't have much time to spare, and when he did, he was exhausted. But you never complained — you knew what you were getting into when you accepted his proposal — aside from voicing that you missed him and wanted him with you.

He wanted nothing more than to be more present for you; he wanted to give you more of his attention over the simple 'good morning,' 'have a nice day,' 'I love you,' and 'good night' exchanges his hectic schedule allowed before he was out the door. He made up for it as much as he could on his off days, getting up early in the morning to finish up any work he had leftover as quickly as possible to be with you throughout the day.

The man fucking loved you. He wasn't the most vocal about it, but he did, and he was relieved that, despite it all, you stayed with him.

He hadn't noticed that he was drifting in and out of consciousness until he grunted in surprise when you tilted your head up to press a soft kiss to his neck.

"Oh? Were you falling asleep?" You teased.

He huffed. "No."

"You were. Seems like you're more burnt out than you're letting on, huh?" You said.

He leaned down, capturing your lips into a gentle kiss. "Stop talking," he said after pulling away.

"Never."

You did anyway, going back to basking in his presence in silence. You shifted your position so that you could nuzzle the crook of his neck. In response, he traced little patterns along your hips, making you smile contentedly against him.

"I swear, those kids have taken at least ten years off my lifespan..." he muttered, mostly to himself.

You laughed at that. Ah, yes — the infamous class 1-A your husband had been assigned.

"You love those kids — admit it," you said.

"They're problematic and a nightmare to handle," he grumbled.

"Keep saying that. You care about them, end of story," you countered. "I'd love to meet them someday."

"Sounds like a disaster. I can already hear the bombardment of questions my students will throw my way when they find out about my wife," he said, nearly shuddering. "Getting a headache just thinking about it. Ashido would be the worst, and Mineta would have no shame."

You laughed as you listened to your husband's rambling about his class. "You're acting like they're all Satan's children."

"Debatable."

You shook your head, still smiling. You shifted to adjust your position, sliding down so that you could rest your head atop his chest and listen to his heartbeat, hands hugging his sides.

"Comfortable?" Shouta asked, running his hand through your hair.

"Very."

"Hm... well, don't get too comfortable," he said.

"Huh? Hey, what're you—" you said as you were nudged off him. You prompted yourself up on your elbow to shoot him a glare.

"Your five minutes is up," he said, sitting up. "In fact, you had eight minutes."

You dramatically flopped back onto your pillows, groaning. "Aw, come on!"

"Sorry, kitten," he said, leaning down for a quick kiss before standing from the bed to head in the bathroom's direction. "I'll shower, grade those papers, and then I'll be all yours."

"Can I join you?" You asked.

He looked back at you, quirking a brow. "Are you gonna behave?"

"I always do!"

"Sure. That's why it's never just a shower when you're involved, huh?" He said.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," you said.

He chuckled, a hint of a smirk stretching at his lips. "Never said that. Now come on, you brat."

He didn't have to tell you twice; you hopped off the bed and followed him into the bathroom, where he started running the warm water.

While he busied himself testing out the water with his hand, you immediately shed yourself of your tank top and sleep shorts. You then pressed yourself against his backside, running your hands down his chest until you hooked your fingers into his sweats, sliding them down. You then held on to his nicely toned ass, squeezing the flesh.

"Already all over me?" He asked, peeking at you over his shoulder.

"What?" You asked with fake innocence. "I'm just undressing you; you gotta be undressed to take a shower, right?"

"Of course."

"You've got such a nice ass," you mumbled, smushing your face against his back.

"I think you tell me that every day," he mused.

When Shouta felt the water was of an adequate temperature, he turned around and pulled you flush against him, gripping at your ass and mimicking your earlier actions.

"Alright, in you go," Shouta said, giving your ass some playful smacks.

You laughed, stepping into the shower with your husband following suit. You sighed happily as the warm water hit your body, relaxing your muscles. It was helping you shake off that sluggish morning haze you previously felt.

Your bathtub shower combo was rather spacious, so there was plenty of room for both of you, but despite the space, you found yourselves glued to one another; your chest pressed against his while he kneaded the flesh of your hips. You traced your fingers along the crease of his abs, as well as his gorgeous Adonis Belt.

He towered over you; your face reached his chest, so you placed a series of sweet butterfly kisses along his flesh. You briefly looked up at him, finding the way his damp hair clung to his forehead was oddly attractive.

"I love you," you said.

"I love you too," he responded, hugging you tightly as he rested his chin atop your head.

He eventually reached towards the shelves next to him, grabbing one of your shampoo bottles, and poured some onto your head. He lathered it, massaging the substance into your scalp. He was gentle in his ministrations, being careful to not scratch you too harshly or pull your strands. It felt great, and you couldn't help the content sigh that escaped you as he took care of you.

"Tilt your head back," he asked.

You did so, putting your shampoo-filled hair underneath the water as he helped rinse it out. You wished Shouta would let you help him take care of his hair as he did. He did at times, though he was rather finicky when it came to caring for his locks, surprisingly.

"Turn around, Sho," you asked once your hair was thoroughly rinsed.

He nodded, doing as you asked. With some soap in hand, you covered his back for him, and with your free hand, you offered little massages to soothe his aching muscles.

The reaction was immediate; groans resonated from deep within his chest as you hit some of his most tense areas. You cringed, brows furrowing at how many knots your husband had. He was a thirty-year-old with the back problems of a senior citizen. It came with the territory of his jobs and horrendous posture, you guessed.

"You need to take better care of yourself," you said.

He hummed, though you knew that he wouldn't change his lifestyle, even if he himself acknowledged that there were some much-needed changes he needed to make.

"After our shower, why don't you lie down so I can give you a better massage?" You suggested.

"Sounds good to me."

He turned around, gently motioning your head to look up at him by taking hold of your face with his thumb and index fingers. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against yours in a kiss. You set the soap aside so that you could wrap your arms around his neck.

He gently pressed the back of your head, pushing you against him and preventing you from pulling away as his fingers dug into your hair, massaging your scalp. It was such a nice feeling, and you moaned softly at the way the exchange became deeper, firing up into something much more passionate.

His rather calloused hands glided along your soft flesh, feeling up every little curve of your body that he loved so much; you were absolute perfection to him.

In sync, you both parted your lips, tongues meeting halfway for some sensual kisses. You perked up at the sound of an approving groan from your lover. Although you both pulled away for a quick breather, you were eager to have his lips again, and while you had a brief moment of control, you slipped yourself back inside of his mouth to tickle the roof with the tip of your tongue, causing him to slightly jump in surprise with a low, throaty moan.

His reaction had you giggling; it wasn't often that you caught him off guard, so you'd enjoy your little victory before you lost all control over the situation.

And sure enough, Shouta soon attempted a bolder move. As you began pulling away, he closed his lips on your tongue to suck at it in the slightest; a thin string of saliva dripped from his lips. It felt great — very intimate, and you were craving more of the erotic French kisses. You could always leave it up to Shouta to leave you breathless and desiring him more and more.

You cupped his cheek as you kissed him again; the bathroom was filled with the sounds of your lips moving against one another with the running water. Your other hand was pressed against his chest.

And as you swirled the tip of your tongue around his, you felt Shouta's chest rumble underneath your hand as he hummed in delight. The vibrations of his murmurs tingled your lips.

Your husband was already fully erect; you felt his hard cock against your thigh, making you squirm in anticipation. You were practically overheating with the arousal coursing through your body combined with the warm water; the bathroom was filled with steam.

You reached down, wrapping your fingers around his cock and pumping it at a tortuously slow pace. The soft groans you elicited from your husband and the way his cock twitched in your hand went straight to your core, making you clench around absolutely nothing.

"Spread your legs for me," he whispered in your ear.

His commanding tone had you immediately obeying. The shower mat underneath your feet helped keep you grounded as you spread your legs apart to grant Shouta access to your pussy.

His hand travelled between your legs, caressing your inner thigh and stroking your labia as means to tease you, which proved to be effective as you whimpered in anticipation. He didn't keep you waiting too long, humming in delight as he felt your slick entrance.

"So wet from a few kisses? You'd think I haven't taken care of you in decades," he teased.

He pinched your clit between his middle and index fingers and slowly dragged it in a circular motion. Although he still wasn't directly touching your clit, it felt heavenly.

"Hm... there you go," he whispered

He licked the fingers of his free hand, lubricating them with his saliva before cupping your breast as his fingers gently pinched your nipple, occasionally caressing the areola.

Shouta glided his hand back down to your entrance, dipping his fingers inside of you and coating them with your lube so that he could spread it to your clit, rubbing slow circles around the sensitive nub to make it nice and slick; there wouldn't be any unpleasant, dry friction to ruin the moment.

Your breaths grew heavy and deep at the stimulation, and you had involuntarily tightened your grip on his cock — not that he was complaining.

"Hm... Shouta," you sighed.

"Feels nice, doesn't it, kitten?" He mumbled to you.

You threw your head back, moaning as he finally stroked your clit in a back and forth motion. His touch was light, not applying too much pressure as to not overstimulate you and make you uncomfortable. He didn't go too fast, nor was he too slow. His pace was perfect — just the way you liked it.

You loved having your man's hand on your pussy like that. It was so much better than masturbating on your lonesome; you found that you had a hard time getting off to your own fingers. Shouta knew what he was doing; he was skilled with his hands, and he knew your body by heart, knew exactly what made you tick and made it his priority to satisfy you.

You found it difficult to focus on Shouta's cock with the daze the pleasure was putting you in, though you still found it in yourself to stroke him, using the pre-cum pooling at his tip as lube.

His hand remained on your breast, occasionally rolling your nipple while his other hand alternated between lateral and circular motions.

He chuckled at your moans, loving those sweet, sinful sounds that were just for his ears to take in.

"Show me your neck, (Y/N)," he asked.

You tilt your head back, exposing your throat to him. He immediately latched onto your flesh, trailing his tongue along your pulse before leaving trails of kisses and love bites on your most sensitive areas. He was considerate enough to avoid biting down hard enough to leave any markings, not wanting you to go to work with deep, purple bruises.

"Hah?" You huffed confusedly when your husband suddenly stopped stimulating you.

He couldn't help the low laughter at your expression — big, glossy eyes that were clouded with desire, but also laced with a hint of confusion. You almost seemed innocent with that look.

Almost.

"Don't worry," he reassured you. "Press yourself against the wall for me, will you?"

You did so, and chills ran down your spine as your back met the cool, ceramic wall. He reached over to the shower head, taking it off its hinges and changing its setting from an even jet to a pulse. You knew damn well what was coming, and you immediately spread your legs for him.

"Good girl," Shouta praised, bringing the head between your legs.

Your breath hitched before you inhaled sharply as he pressed the head to your sensitive clit.

"S-Sho... ta!"

He looked down at you with a smirk, a mixture between a chuckle and a moan escaping him as he took in the sight of you rocking your hips against the head. Your lips parted, the tip of your tongue poking out as your chest heaved heavily. You looked so fucking delicious like that.

"God, you look gorgeous," Shouta groaned, pushing the head against you a bit more roughly.

You muttered a series of incoherent curses, feeling a multitude of shockwaves traversing your body at the pleasure your body received. The water pulsed on your clit at such an incredible pace and the warmth of the water had you dizzy.

Shouta took it upon himself to jerk his cock to the seductive sight in front of him: his lovely wife shamelessly fucking herself on a shower head and pulling some of the hottest facial expressions he's seen.

God, how he missed sharing intimate, sexual moments with you while he was away for work. He'd make up for it.

Your movements became sporadic, your body seemingly jumping on its own as you felt your abdomen bubbling with pressure. Your clit began pulsing as your orgasm approached.

"S-Shouta, babe, 'm gonna cum soon. You gonna lemme cum? Please," you rambled.

He cocked his head to the side. "Are you now?"

You nodded. "Yes, yes, yesss. Can I? C-Can I cum?"

He clicked his tongue, and to your horror, he pulled the shower head away right as you were about to cum. You gaped at him as the fucker smirked at you, seemingly proud to have ruined your orgasm.

"That's no good. We can't have that right away, huh kitten?" He said, setting the shower head back in its place and into its regular setting.

You squirmed on your feet, feeling beyond uncomfortable from the overwhelming amount of arousal you felt, desperately needing to release it all.

Noticing your discomfort, Shouta cupped your cheeks and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. "Shh... it's okay, kitten. Don't worry, you'll be taken care of."

He reached towards the shelves where various bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body wash were lined up. Amongst them was a small bottle of waterproof lubricant that you kept for good measure, considering the number of times you had sex in the shower.

"Give me your hands," he asked, shaking the bottle for emphasis.

You held out your hand, letting him pour some lube onto it, and as he placed the bottle back onto the shelf, you reached down to spread the lube along his cock.

"That's it — good girl," he moaned. "Now, turn around."

Despite the calm tone of his voice, he wasn't asking; he was demanding it. Now, it was your chest pressed against the cool tile. You pushed out your ass towards him, spreading your legs and basically presenting yourself to him. Due to the slight difference in your heights, you had to balance on your toes.

You shuddered when you felt the tip of his cock press against your entrance, but you soon whimpered when you felt him slide through your folds; his tip repeatedly hit your overly sensitive clit. Your arousal, his pre-cum, and the lube you'd applied all mixed as he rutted against.

"Ready for me?" He asked.

"Y-Yeah! Please, Shouta," you said.

And when he finally slowly slid his cock inside of you, you moaned rather loudly. It'd been a while since you felt like this, being completely stretched as he filled you to the hilt. Euphoria rushed through your body; there was this rush that had your heart racing at the feeling of him entering you.

With a tight grip on your hips, Shouta wasted no time in thrusting; his breathing was laboured as he grunted underneath his breath. His pace was steady; he wasn't yet pounding into you like a savage animal, but fuck, it felt just as good. His large cock bottomed out, continuously hitting your G-spot with perfect precision.

"Fuuck," Shouta groaned, lightly smacking your ass.

Despite the warmth of the atmosphere, there were shivers that ran down your spine; your lover's mouth was right next to your ear, and you could hear every one of his raspy moans, grunts and dirty words so clearly.

"Gonna start off nice an' gentle for you, kitten. It's been a while, huh?" He said, pressing kisses to your neck. "I've gotta let you re-adjust to my size."

"I-I can take you!" You challenged him.

He laughed. "Oh, kitten, I know you can, but you should let me be gentle with your body before I..." he gave a particularly rough and deep thrust, pulling a sharp gasp from you "...fuck your tight, little cunt."

His pace remained slow and deep. You felt so wet and warm; everything Shouta was doing to you had you seeing stars. You loved the way he gripped your hips, being fucked from behind and feeling his cock bury itself deep inside of you at such a slow pace that made you feel every inch of him.

"Hm... you like it deep, don't you? You're already tightening up around me," he said, giving another rough thrust for emphasis. "Did you miss my cock that much?"

"Yesss," you slurred.

With the way your pussy became wetter by the second, with every snap of his hips, his pace picked up. You were moaning much more loudly, gasping for air at the feeling; you had no words, thoroughly unable to form any coherent sentences from the dizzying pleasure.

"That's my good girl," Shouta groaned in your ear. "You're doing so good, taking me so well. Fuck — it's like you were made for me!"

"S-Shouta! Fuck I love you... love you so much. Go harder, need more. Please!" You managed to say.

"Yeah? You love me? I love you too, princess — so much," his thrusts became much rougher as per your request. "Gonna give you what you want, okay? Keep moaning for me; you're such a good girl."

The bathroom walls echoed with the sound of skin slapping against each other and your combined sounds of pleasure; you could barely hear the shower running anymore.

Despite the rough treatment your husband was inflicting on your body, he found it in himself to mutter continued praise in your ear and noticing how your palms rested flat against the wall, he slid his hands up your body, trailing them up to your shoulders and along your arms until he intertwined his fingers with yours.

Shouta threw his back with a deep, guttural groan resonating from him. He was close; your tight cunt was practically milking his cock, making it difficult for him to hold off his orgasm. He wouldn't last long, but he knew you wouldn't either from how sensitive he'd made you before penetration.

"I'm gonna cum soon, kitten. Keep — fuck — keep squeezing me like that. Want me to fill you up?" He asked.

"God, yes!" You moaned enthusiastically.

He chuckled at that, though it came out sounding breathless. "I knew you'd say that. Don't worry — I'm not gonna leave you hanging, okay?"

It didn't take long for his thrusts to grow erratic and sloppy. "That's it, kitten, that's it. C-Cumming!"

With that, he gave some final, deep thrusts to firmly plug your cunt as he throbbed inside of you with every gush of his cum. The feeling was heavenly; it had been much too long since you felt his seed deep within you.

Your body was on fire; the deep grunts of pleasure from your lover and the intimate feeling of his cum entering you only edged you closer to your release.

Shouta released one of your hands so that he could reach between your legs and stroke your clit. Despite how overly sensitive he felt after orgasming, he carried on with his thrusts for your sake, wanting to make you cum.

"Come on, kitten, don't hold back. Cum for me, I know you want to," he said.

With permission granted, you finally let yourself go, greedily releasing the pressure that had been nestled in you for far too long now. It felt amazing; your eyes rolled back as your breath caught in your throat.

Shouta's thrusts ceased after the frantic quivering of your pussy died down, and the movement of his fingers on your clit slowed to help you ride down your high until he came to a stop.

Both breathing heavily, you eventually straightened out and turned around, pulling your husband into a hug and sweet kiss. He pushed your head against his chest, letting you listen to his rapid heartbeat while you both calmed down.

"We should finish washing up," he eventually said. "Water's getting cold."

You hummed absent-mindedly.

"I have to get to grading those papers."

"You and those damn papers," you mumbled against him, shaking your head despite the smile stretching at your lips.