𐙚𝗯𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗶𝗰𝘂𝗻𝘁🍓

His voice calm and nearly innocent with its complete candidness.

Plain look on his face even when looking into your eyes that had gone completely moon-wide now.

“Much more than what you do with me I wager…” He smiled softly. Voice still smooth as he looked down into your pitiful pools of building anxiousness. “It would be fun to watch him ravish you.”

Your throat was tight as you swallowed. Trying to convince yourself he was only being cruel in his strange ways.

But something about the excitement in his bicolored eyes told you otherwise. Along the fact that he’d never been one for jokes.

“Or perhaps you’d like Midoriya instead?”

You shook just a bit by the thought. Recurring stories Shoto’d told you about the man. Stories resembling a callous and calculating villain, much less the number one hero. You wouldn't want to be caught beneath that nor the former.

“I can’t promise you he’d be any less rough than me though.”

You flinched when his hand started up again. Stopping in messaging your thigh to run fingertips so very cold up you belly and chest to where you heart couldn’t seem to calm down.

“Hm- Maybe one isn’t enough for you at all?” He questioned.

His slender hands rubbing your throat now. Stroking his thumb up and down your jugular.

“Would you like them both?”

He leaned forward until his bangs brushed against your forehead and his breath fanned across your lips. So close, you could see the blitz in his eyes. A look so crippling you felt he was undressing your soul just like he’d done your body.

His voice still so soft it was smothering.

“Maybe they’d bring along friends and we’d get to see how much you could take before breaking.”

You shuddered and broke from his eye-contact. Bowing your head with a small sniffle, followed by a whimper breaching from you as you shook your head.

“What’s this? You changed your mind?” He remarked.

“I don’t want anyone else.” You whispered weakly in the only voice you could manage at the moment.

Shoto’s icy palm cupped your cheek and raised your chin so he could level you with his eyes.

“No? You certain?” He whispered back and your entire body sprung with goosebumps. A tear running slowly down either side of your face as you chewed some on your lip.

Hands slack in his grip above your head.

“Yes, Shoto. I only want you.” You sniveled.

Another small smile crept onto his face as he looked upon your teary features.

“Such enthusiasm.” He commented. “My friends got you so hot and bothered.”

He blew on your neck and your breath hitched on your trembling lips.

While his firm lips kissed your throat.

“One phone-call, snowflake-” He moaned and placed another kiss upon your collar. “They’d be here in minutes.”

He let go of the grip he had around your wrists and moved to rub a nipple between his fingertips.

And his other hand moved to where it had been before.

Between your thighs, with cold digits running over your warm and soft core.

“Bakugou would be thrilled to break my girl over his knee… and Midoriya would love to comfort you afterwards.” He continued in a low murmur, but you shook your head at the nauseatingly scary thought.

“I don’t want them, I want you. I only want you.” You vowed with a tiny cry, as though you were begging.

“Mh…” Shoto hummed, peeking through his bangs at you before kissing a nipple and rubbing your clit. “Then act like it.”

MIDORIYA IZUKU

“Bunny~ I’m home!” Deku’s voice came booming from the outer-door.

You’d heard him pull up the driveway some minutes ago and were expecting him.

It wasn’t as if you thought it would help to hide…

But, knowing that wasn’t enough to stop you though.

“Bunny?” His voice came again, but you didn’t answer.

And then that nerve-wreaking chuckle came rumbling like thunder and you swore you were going to choke on the tremors of your own heart.

“You’ hiding from me, little one?”

You knew you were supposed to greet him by the door. Throw yourself into his arms as though he was all you’d been thinking of all day. But, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“Come out and play, baby-face~” His voice called once again and you had to cover your ears.

The crinkle between your brows just deepening where you sat on the cold hardboard floor of the closet. Rocking back and forth with your lip caught between your teeth. Trying to hold back the tears of dread

“Daddy’s brought a present for you~”

You nearly whimpered at that. Hiding your head between your knees

“Coming to find you, Bunny…”

You heard steps in the hallway leading to you. Massive thunderous steps you convinced yourself shook the thin walls of the wooden closet you sat in.

“And when I do…” He began warning. Another cripplingly low chuckle following the rumble in his rust. “We’re gonna go straight to bed.

Eyes wide as your stomach made a twist by the thought of hosting his massiveness inside. Cunt twitching involuntarily by the thought. Mouth watering as though you’d bitten your tongue too hard.

“We can have dinner later…” He dismissed. “‘Cause right now…”

His voice was close.

“All I want…”

Right outside.

“Is you.”

The closet door flew open and in the opening the giant stood towering in the light.

“There you are, Bunny.” He sighed. Eyes an ill luminescent green. Eerily lighting up his face like foxfire.

“No-” You whimpered. Hands stretched forward in and effort of warding him off. “Stay away- S-stop-”

He ignored you. Blissful smile on his face as he grabbed your wrist and threw your small body up over his shoulder.

“Why so jumpy, Bunny?” He asked innocently while putting his massive palm over the dome of your ass. Strong thick fingers carving into goosebumbed plush flesh before giving you a tiny smack

“Please, Izuku-” You yelped. “I- ah- I don’t want to- have sex with you. I don’t want-” You began crying. Banging your tiny fist on his back, even when it seemed so utterly pointless.

“Silly Bunny.” He dismissed with a chuckle. Kissing your hip. “Don’t you know?”

He bounced you off his shoulder for you to land on the bed.

“You always change your mind in the end.”

He climbed over you before you could gather yourself enough to crawl away.

“You always tell me you love it and make such happy noises for me when I make you cum.”

Your will and pride and anger told you to fight back, but fear and helplessness made you cry as you carried out your pathetic efforts. His words making you shudder and cringe as you felt the roughness of his hands greedily stroke upon your smooth skin.

“No-” You whined, trying to shove him away.

His wild curls tickling the skin of your chest as he buried his face between your warm pillowy tits.

“You just need to feel me first.” He urged in a mumble against your flesh.

Rubbing his stubbled chin against you while you wormed in discomfort beneath him.

“I’ve been wanting to feel you all day long.” He groaned. Grinding his bulge against your thigh. “I’m so ready to get inside you, I don’t think I’ll let you go again.” His voice moaned intrudingly load against you.

His large hands holding you still for him to use as he so wished.

“Just you and me, wet and warm and sticky until morning.”

Another cry broke form you, but was interrupted by the man’s distraction.

“Oh-” He exclaimed. “Almost forgot.”

His hands removed from you to fish something out of his pocket

“Your present…”

Pulling out a pink choker with a little jingle bell attached to it. He made some intricate adjustments with his fingers and the locking mechanism came undone.

“A pretty collar for my pretty pet.” He purred while snaking the necklace around your throat. Keeping it snug, though thankfully slack enough to be comfortable.

The humiliation wasn’t as merciful though.

Your eyes downcast, but could still spot Izuku’s salacious smirk where he leaned forward admiring his pretty possession.

“With this I won’t lose you again.” He voiced. Fingering a lock of your hair. Looping it around his pointer until you bit your lip and another tear slipped down your cheek. “No matter where you might wind up lost...”

He caught the rebel droplet on his knuckle while stroking your face. Giving your forehead a kiss, he began dragging the zipper to his hero-suit down his chest. Whispering.

“I’ll find you.”

SHINSO HITOSHI

You had your back hunched. Claws drawn.

He was back and it was time to stand your ground.

Your tail coiled tall in the air.

Sharp fangs flashed hostilely.

Eyes narrowed at the man in front.

Clad in only frilly lavender underwear and the collar you couldn’t for the life of you seem to rip off.

“Heh, kitten…” Your captor chuckled. “Best thing about coming home is you.” His mockingly sweet voice mouthed in that sarcastic drawl all his words always drip with. Endeared by your wild disheveled hair while casually removing the gadget belt to his hero costume.

Visibly happy to be home.

“I hate you.” You seethed and the man cocked his head at you. His face splitting into a wide yet lazy grin. Accompanied by an ugly chuckle dry in his throat. As jaded as his eyes.

“Oh?” He piqued. Unbothered, or rather amused, as he lifted his black sweater off over his head. “You hate me?”

He left the article on the floor. His complementary dark cargo’s hanging low on his hips without the support of his belt. A path of purple fluff peeking out, running from his crotch up his firmly carved stomach like an ant-trail.

Capture weapon dangling like the bands of a mummy around his shoulders. Crossing over his puffed chest decorated by tough scars and bruises.

“Nothing to say?” He teased and her eyes narrowed some more as she lowered herself even further.

Ready to leap.

“Nothing at all, Kitten?” He pushed. Slight edge to his tone with his hands held at the reins. Scarf stretched and winding between his firm fingers.

Ready to ensnare.

“Come on... pet. Say that again.” He coaxed, snapping the band between his fists. “Let me hear you loud and clear.”

You thought about it. As overwhelmed and frustrated as you were, filled with boiling rage and vexation towards your insane captor.

But, ultimately, you couldn’t risk being tricked into triggering his quirk.

“No?” He asked. Taking a threatening step towards you with brows high and testing.

Clicking his tongue with a sigh when you didn’t answer.

“Fine then-” He mumbled. “I guess foreplay’s over.”

Cracking his neck with a groan, he seemed relaxed and neutral with his eyes closed.

Before they snapped open again with newfound focus.

“Time for the main event.”

Binding-cloth flew towards you before you could even as much as think of clawing at the air in front of you.

Captured instantly.

All you could was whine and worm.

“Struggle all you want, Kitty.” Shinso chuckled, while pulling you towards him.

Like a spider would its prey.

“We both know you'll end up a wet whiny moaning mess once I get started with you.”

He had your wrist neatly secured behind your back with his capture weapon in no time.

Twirling you around, he pushed you onto the bed. Stomach first and face down.

Your tail up.

Curling around and just begging to be yanked.

Something of which Shinso did with glee.

His fist grabbing onto the tip of the soft brush. Before proceeding to wrap it around his hand like one would bandage a cut until hitting the base. Pulling some more. Making you hiss before crying.

“You can’t help the way your body reacts to me.” He purred. His lilac eyes reveling at the sight of your thighs starting to shake.

Giving a little gleeful chuckle. His other hand made itself known.

Stroking two thick fingers up the puff of the sore little pussy he’d fucked raw before leaving for work only some hours ago.

Still full with his cum. Still with the feeling of him deep in your guts. And of how he’d bred you dumb.

You couldn’t help but mew at the feeling. His rough finger-pads rubbing over the fine silk of your panties. Such playful friction it made you shiver. Where all you wanted was to rock yourself backwards and beg for more.

Shinso chuckled some again. Smirking once your cute ears parted atop your head.

“It’s only natural your instincts recognize who’s in charge.”

His smile wide and lazy as he watched you try to contain yourself. Even when he could smell it in the air as well as feel it in the heat warming his fingers just how wrecked and ready you were for him.

“Though… you should do yourself a favor, Kitty, and start listening to yourself-”

You made a hiss and bit out a flustered comment. “F-fuck you-”

Funny you’re the cat, but Shinso’s the one who’s always got your tongue.

And mind and body.

“Exactly right...” He simpered.

Admiring how your tense body turned soft and fight-less. Your back becoming a smoother slope as your ass arched into him. Your pretty face blanking as his quirk brought you to your knees as it always does.

“Fuck me.”

TIP-JAR

BAKUGOU, KIRISHIMA, DENKI, ENJI

You're drenched in sweat but he doesn't seem to mind. The opposite, actually. Like he prefers it that way, with your skin glueing itself to his—inseparable, stuck until you can't tell where you start and he begins.

He's forcing your eyes on him. Or at least, your face. Doesn't really care whether you keep them open or roll them back—he seems more interested in watching you morph for him. How your face changes shape the more he thrusts in. A hand around your jaw, switching sometimes to wrap around your neck until your breath stutters and coughs.

You don't know how many orgasms he wants to take from you. Hell, before he pinned you to this bed, you didn't even know you could have this many orgasms. Instead here you are, with Simon's dick ploughing inside you and snatching your breath away, losing count at your third. You're so wet each movement causes a squelch that only gets louder when you cum—again.

Fourth, or fifth.

It starts to hurt sometimes, but as soon as your eyes twitch in discomfort, Simon changes tactics and it isn't painful anymore. He pulls out, stuffs his fingers inside of you instead and pumps a few times until the line between your brows smooths over. Rubs the pruny pads of his fingers over your clit until you're fluttering around nothing and your grimace turns into awe.

And then he slams back inside again. His hand returns to your jaw and his nose is brushing with yours. Simon leans closer, if even possible, and you can feel his heavy panting in your ear.

"Tired?" He purrs.

"Y-yeah," you croak. "Need a break."

His thrusts come to a slow rhythm, but he doesn't pull out. You can feel yourself flutter around the length of him and your heart pounding madly in your throat—same frequency as his, plastered to your chest. He shifts above you, planting a hand next to your head, his other one cradling your cheek. His face levels with yours, eye to eye.

"A break?" He cocks his head. "Reckon we barely started."

You snort. "You're insane. We're past started. We're past done."

He hums. "Dunno. Are we?"

"I'm pretty fucking knackered."

His lips twitch. "Are you now."

He's infuriating like that. When he takes control of you, your mind and your body, and changes your perception of things. You haven't barely started—you reckon you're pretty fucking over and done, and you'd like to reiterate that. 

But he has that look on him now. Those eyes narrowed into two cheeky slits, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips like he knows he's about to change your mind, if he hasn't already.

You mimic him. A game of stubborn stares between two people who ultimately want the same thing: for this to stop and yet never end at the same time. Feels too good to give up and too much to continue, ecstasy and fatigue clinging together like heavy chains wrapped around your chests and keeping you bound to one another.

It’s what you wanted, what you pleaded with your eyes as soon as you got home. Dark circles around them, etched by the longest of work days, and lashes fluttering as you asked if he could take care of you tonight.

And with a man like Simon Riley, what you ask is what he delivers.

He keeps rolling his hips in a comfortable, slow fashion that is soothing more than intense, like he's scratching the parts of you that you couldn't possibly reach by yourself.

"Did you even cum?" You ask in between breaths, brushing your lips with his.

He grunts. "Nah. Not yet."

Fucking hell. Might be torture at this point—for him, naturally. Bit for you as well, though. 

But to be frank you couldn't give two shits about discomfort and those zaps of overstimulation that make your eyelids twitch and your toes curl. This is anything but torment for you. You've never felt this boneless in your entire life, and honestly, you'd have paid good fucking money to experience this sooner; if only you knew it was a possibility, to have your overworked brains fucked into a soup of nothing coherent.

At this point you don't even need to cum anymore—you've done that plenty. You just need him where he is, doing this magic trick with his hips that has your insides churn and melt like hot syrup at the base of you.

He plunges in with a particularly harsh thrust and you gasp. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your nails dig in, leaving what you’re guessing are going to be awfully deep scratches on his shoulder blades.

Simon falls still.

"F-fancy doing that any time soon?" You stutter.

And he rolls his hips deep, continuously, stretching out the moan that had already left your lips.

"Why the rush?" He asks.

The husk in his voice hints, however, that he might be in a rush as well. Greedy as always. Fill you up or paint you with it. Watch his cum ooze out of you, or witness it roll in droplets from the valley of your breasts down to your heaving belly.

"I need to pee," you breathe. "There's the rush."

Simon is unfazed. Moves like you didn't utter a word to begin with. Instead, what he does is leave your cheek and travel downwards, squeezing your breast in his hand as he passes by. He finds your clit and rolls idle circles that mimic the movement of his hips.

You throw your head back, muscles slack in your neck. 

"Fuck," you choke. Your eyes fall closed. The pressure builds and you can't quite tell if it's going to feel incredibly good or incredibly embarrassing. Or both.

Your voice rises in pitch. "Don't—"

He interjects. "Mhmh?"

You feel his hum vibrate with every inch of smugness down to your core. Your chest reverberates with it, and the enjoyment radiating from him seeps into you, effortless as osmosis.

"Why." He pulls back. 

"The." And thrusts in. 

"Rush?"

Your groan is feral. 

It scratches at your throat, dry and tasting of iron. You can feel your limbs turn gooey and powerless, your stomach contrastingly hard and contracted to stave off release.

"Fucking hell, Sim—"

"Come on, pet." He thunders above you.

"This isn't gonna end well—"

He chuckles and never falters with his fingers or his cock. Steady and precise, hitting right where you love it and touching exactly where you're tight. 

"Nah it ain't," he agrees—to an extent. "It's gonna end fucking perfect."

Your belly burns, coils, rattles—you can feel your legs shake around the thickness of his waist and your eyes tear up.

You whine. "Simon—"

"I know baby, I know." He whispers, voice low yet still thick like liquor. "Feels good, aye? Can feel it too."

You can feel it. Fucking hell you can.

His voice is soft, drawing out the vowels. "S’alrigh’. Breathe through it.”

You can feel it coming right up and it's gonna be a fucking disaster. It's in the sudden wetness rushing at the base of your belly, in the increasingly louder squelches echoing in the bedroom the more he thrusts in. 

"Cum for me, love," he purrs. You recognize the feeble stutter in his voice that hints at his own release, but he's stubborn like that and he'd rather have the most unsatisfying orgasm in the world than lose the battle he's started.

Competitive bastard even where there's no competition at hand.

"I can't—I'll—"

He predicts you. Switches his fingers so that his thumb is now rolling over your clit and the heel of his hand can press above your pubic bone.

"Make a fuckin' mess, then," he groans. "Let go, pet. Let go."

You see stars there. A shaky mess of colours shifting into unrecognizable shapes behind your eyelids, wired shut in your futile attempt to regain control of your body. You don't want it to happen and yet you do, you don't want to let go and yet you're just about to.

You try it all. Squirm away, but it only makes him drill in harder. Push at his chest, but he grabs your hands and anchors them above your head in a white-knuckled grip. 

Plead, if you like, and he'll drink your prayers with a kiss.

But it's useless. You surrendered your control to him: it's what you wanted, to be used until worn out, to feel good beyond repair, and without putting any effort into it.

He's delivering what you asked.

You whine again. "Please—oh fuck—I'll—"

"Fuckin' do it." He curses. 

His thrusts turn erratic, but the sudden switch in pace doesn't deter your orgasm from approaching. If you hadn't been so focused on tightening your abdomen, you would've noticed you were on the verge of cumming already.

"Cum all over me."

It's like a switch. Your body turns jello. You can feel your throat closing in as your mouth opens wide in a scream that doesn't quite make it through.

Simon's voice breaks in a groan that sounds like it’s coming out of the most delighted of grins.

Your orgasm is strong and gut wrenching. Body hot in bliss and shame, as a warm stream rushes out of you unbidden. It splashes down your ass and your thighs, wets Simon's legs and his pelvis. He makes it even messier by rapidly stroking his fingers over your clit, prolonging both ecstasy and embarrassment.

Wet sounds are dotted by his grunts growing louder and huskier, rough to the touch if you could brush your fingers over them.

"Fuck—" He groans. "Fuckin' perfect. That's my girl—My fuckin' girl."

He cums as well, but it's lost in the mess happening between your bodies, and your head is not quite there yet to witness it happening. You can only feel it, barely, as he twitches inside you and the grip on your wrists tightens a fraction—but the rest is as lost as you are.

Simon unceremoniously collapses above you as your breaths heave and pitch upwards, until your voice doesn't even sound like yours anymore.

His kisses, left unhurried and open on your collarbones, are what brings you back. You blink yourself back inside your body, back beneath his own—heavy and thick and sweaty. The air is pungent and smells of sex, with his breath tickling your neck and the droplets perspiring from your skin.

And even though you're feeling on cloud nine, your mind betrays the laxity of your body. You can feel embarrassment run hot through you, scorching you worse than any fire could.

"I fucking hate you," you breathe to the ceiling.

Simon chuckles against your chest. "Aye. Get in line."

"Not the time."

"Perfect time."

You frown. It's hard to breathe with him crushing your chest and you almost want to push him away, but that would mean to witness the mess you made on the bedsheets, so you decide that choking on air is a better fate.

You huff. You can feel your skin burn hot, so you use your hand to cover your face as much as you can, rubbing nervously at your cheek. 

"I didn't mean to do that."

"Glad you did," he huffs. "Cross my heart. Hottest thing y’ve ever done, pet.”

You grimace. "Eh, I don't think so."

He kisses your chest. Rises upwards until his lips meet the space beneath your lobe, and there he leaves a plain kiss that clicks softly in your ear. 

"I do." He whispers. You can feel his mouth twitch in a smile. "Bloody perfect when you relax. Should've taken a picture right there. Keep it in my wallet."

Blood warms up your chest and coils around your neck, touching your cheeks. Honest to God, this man is charming once a year and that single event always unfolds with the worst possible timing.

"Not the time to be a sap." You bite on your cheek to prevent a smile from blooming. "I just wet the fucking bed."

He snorts. "Not only the bed."

"Simon!" 

He sinks his teeth in your neck softly, as his whole body shakes with laughter. He's laughing at his own joke, and suddenly his single, charming moment of the year is over just as quickly as it began. Shame for you, that his laugh is also a rare event, and it’s as infectious as they come.

You laugh too.

"Not—" you playfully slap his shoulder. "The fucking time!"

But he's relentless, and his lips journey from your neck to your cheek. He lifts himself just enough to make you breathe, and just enough to kiss your lips.

He sighs in your mouth when you reciprocate. "Perfect time."