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calm!reader and her loud and dramatic boyfriend, tengen uzui ˚.✦
“I am NOT going,” Tengen comes back from his wardrobe still in just boxers and half painted eyeliner. He sits on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over his chest and a pout.
“Mm?” you lift your head from your book, you finish getting ready for this party about twenty minutes ago, full make up, hair and outfit, everything ready. “What happened, my love?”
He looks at you from over his shoulder, the pout growing bigger (definitely not to pity him). “I can’t find a good outfit. Nothing worthy of standing beside you tonight. Nothing!”
You tilt your head, pressing your lips in a kind smile and scooting over behind him. You rub his chest, your nails raking through it and him melting into it. “Go search a little more, c’mon. You have a lot of clothes.”
“Hm…” He pretends to think about it, although he’s just trying to keep himself in your arms, when you pat his chest, he gets up instantly. “Okay, I’ll go!”
A few moments later he finds the perfect purple shirt for his outfit and asks you to help him finish his make up only to have you in his lap, as close as possible.
You and him always arrive to parties late (his fault) and leave parties early (your fault). He’s the center of attention every goddamn time, telling stories to people he just met, his arms slash through the air, people crowd around him, laughing, gasping at every exaggerated detail.
But when he sees you sitting on a couch not too far away from him (for him it feels like miles away), sipping on your drink while you stare at his ass, he shushes all the people, announcing that he has to go back to his partner because he can’t function well without you.
“Oh my god, Tengen,” you say, with a flustered laugh because you could hear him perfectly. He’s already sat by your side, arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“But I want to,” he says, close to your ear as he leaves kisses on your cheek. “I love the look on your face when I talk about you.”
“You scream about me,” you remind him, squeezing his arm and laying your cheek on his shoulder.
He notices your little sigh and how your body relaxes when he’s pressed to you. He draws little patterns on your arm, letting you a few moments of physical contact before saying: “Do you wanna go home? These people are boring.”
You lift your gaze, blinking slowly. “You were laughing a few moments ago, Tengen.”
“I was laughing at my own jokes, let’s get out of here.” He grabs your hand, lifting you easily and pulling you across the dancefloor.
He always knows when you’re done for the night, and when you’re done, he is too.
Tengen has this burst of love and intensity where he lays on top of you, purposefully trapping you below his body because he’s way taller and stronger that you and makes you look straight into his eyes while he tells you:
“I would die for you,” he declares. “I would burn down entire cities, shatter the heavens themselves if it meant keeping you safe. You are my goddess, my everything. Without you, I am nothing but noise in an empty world.”
You lie there beneath him, used to these sudden storms of his affection. Your hands rest calmly on his back, fingers tracing slow circles over his muscles as he keeps talking, eyes never leaving yours.
“Every breath I take is for you,” he continues, voice rising with passion. “I worship the ground you walk on. You calm the chaos inside me. I would kneel for you, fight for you, live every second like it is my last just to see you smile. My love, my partner, my only peace. Tell me you know how deeply I adore you. Say it.”
A warm flush creeps up your neck and across your cheeks, he is so intense, so extra, turning a simple moment on the couch into something epic and overwhelming. Yet you cannot help but adore him for it.
You meet his eyes without looking away, your voice soft and even. “I know, Tengen. You tell me every day.”
He groans dramatically, burying his face in your neck for a second before pulling back to trap you with his stare again. “Not enough! Words are never enough for what I feel. I want to shout it from the rooftops until the whole city knows you own me completely. You are the silence I crave after every battle. I would lay down my swords, my pride, my life for one more moment like this with you.”
You smile quietly, sliding your fingers up into his silver hair and tugging gently to settle him. Even pinned under his massive frame, you feel safe, loved in the loud, all-consuming way only he can give. “I love you too, by the way,” you whisper into his hair. “Even when you’re loud as fuck.”
He lifts his head fast, gasping and leaning to fill your face with kisses. You burst out laughing because it tickles, “Tengen!”
“Mm, I love you tooooo,” he sings, now licking your cheeks between kisses.
“Ew! Tengen, you’re gross!” You try to push his face away except you’re not really applying any force, you’re just giggling as he hugs you tighter and kisses you slower, now trapping your lips in a soft and wet kiss.
horny once more...mdni or they'll get you. (part 2)
camboy!Dabi who gained a huge following in just his first week of streaming, the clever angle he placed his camera in giving a full view of his solid nine inches and the low light showing only a hint of a sharp jawline. needless to say the users were intrigued
camboy!Dabi - or as his followers know him, blueflameprince - has a very specific style for his streams, or rather, what he likes to use. all his toys are clear. whether it's a standard fleshlight or a more detailed one, he wants to make sure everyone can see his dick slide in and out of the silicone, girth squeezed by the artificial gummy texture. what the viewers go crazy for the most is the fact that you can see just how much he fills up the toys when he cums. it's also when the tips and comments flood in the most
inside me next!
i want his blue sauce.
i want every sauce he can make actually
after gaining a steady audience, camboy!Dabi finds new ways to keep his lovely followers, so he starts to experiment. black strands with the faintest hit of snowy white at the roots stick to his forehead as he pants, a large hand squeezing at his throat to choke himself as he frantically fucks into his toy. that's the first time they hear him whine from the sheer intensity of his orgasm. the rent was covered with that stream alone.
camboy!Dabi has had his work email inbox filled with collab requests for months now, but has never really cared to reply to any of them. he has an alt account where he can watch the competition without stealing the spotlight, yet somehow there's always someone in the comments telling a creator about him. some of the more famous creators don't even know who he is, others say it would be interesting to work together, but with the whole mysterious persona going on, doing solo lives is just better
but as the requests pile up, he guesses that trying just once won't hurt - and oh, camboy!Dabi's new era was just getting started. his first collab almost breaks the platform, and that seals the deal for him.
he doesn't really like to have sex on camera, but gods, does he love to get head. no matter man or woman, camboy!Dabi gets a kick out of having a pretty boy or a pretty girl worshipping his cock with spit-glossed lips descending down his girth to embrace it with the warmth of their throat.
camboy!Dabi also gains a reputation for being a panty freak, the rare times he doesn't have his fleshlight at hand he's fisting his cock with the prettiest pairs of panties. each time it's a different one. needless to say the speculations fire up immediately, viewers wondering if they belonged to past girls who filmed with him or fans who somehow figured out his address
now, you weren't one to browse on this kind of website, clicking on the link one night where horniness and boredom won over any of your current tasks. you browse mindlessly, tapping onto one of the first lives on the feed where the tips were rolling in faster than you could catch up. ready to see what all the buzz is about, your eyes zero in on some details of the room behind the guy on your screen. you can't quite put your finger to it but it definitely looks like - your best friend Touya's room? and once you take a good look at the baby blue lace gliding snug along his cock... wasn't that the pair you lost last week!?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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your f/o lounging lazily on the bed—back against the headboard and legs splayed out—one arm bent behind his head while the other bounces you up and down on his cock, palm gripping your ass, his middle finger teasing your puckered hole...
walk with me omega!ochaco and omega!reader bot in heat at the same damn time going through it together
**if you don't f w/ omegaverse how about like sex pollen or smtg? (^∧^)
-zzz
s☆x pollen? - ochako uraraka 18+ MDNI!!!
you didn’t like this operation from the start. sweeping a laboratory based on dubious and barely backed up allegations, with little to no knowledge about what you might have even found in there. drugs? or even worse, nomus? it didn’t sit right with you that they would ask for the intervention of two pro heroes when there were still so many questions about, well, everything.
the only reassurance was getting teamed up with ochako. if things went south, you would’ve had each other’s back. but no training in your years at U.A. or out in the field could’ve prepared you for this. all it took was a police officer accidentally knocking over some containers of unknown substances, you and uravity pushing the man away to take the hit, and now…this.
it took a while for the symptoms to show, the medical staff said you were lucky because you only inhaled the fumes and didn’t ingest any of it, and the only way to get rid of the effects was to wait. yeah, right, like hell you can wait.
the “super dangerous” substance was sex pollen, a new type of diversion some maniac came up with, meant to distract heroes by puffing just a tiny bit, enough to mess with their minds. the amount in your body must’ve bean at least ten times greater, and it was a lie you told yourself to stay sane.
but how the fuck are you supposed to stay sane when you and ochako share an apartment!?
the moment the police escorted you home - in separate cars - you locked yourselves in your respective bedroom. it’s been an hour now, and your body is giving no sign of cooling off, the desire raging in your veins still as maddening as ever.
and for some reason, you don’t want to give into it. the mere friction of your clothes rubbing against you borders on painful. you should be locked up, yeah, that’s the only reasonable way to deal with this. because if your body was already making you go out of your mind, ochako is definitely making this worse.
you can hear her, or rather, her moans. loud as fuck, as she gets herself off over and over again until she’s crying, because it’s never enough. a nurse with a cheeky little smile, back at the hospital, told you something that you didn’t even dare entertain, not even at the back of your mind.
”you know, they say the effects go away faster if someone’s helping you out.”
yeah, no fucking way.
but now the words are coming back, infiltrating themselves into every inch of your poor, weak mind. perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea? but how would you even ask her? you locked yourselves away from each other exactly to avoid that, but—
“y/n,” a quiet mewl came from the other side of the wall. “fuck i— i-i can’t do this anymore, it hurts…p-please help me, please—”
that was all the convincing it took. you’re sure you almost detach the damn handle from your door when you fling it open, only to find ochako’s already unlocked— ready, waiting. “i’m so, so sorry b-but i can’t do this anymore, i feel like i’m going insane!” she whines, big doe eyes wide and pleading as she watches you from the crack in the door. “we can help each other out, no? m-make this go away fast.”
“yeah, alright,” you nod, hands shaking, barely keeping yourself from breaking down the door and pounce. “just let me in.”
ochako’s hand grabs the front of your shirt and yanks, the kiss she locks your lips is dizzying enough neither of you feels it when you topple to the floor. she’s in nothing but an oversized shirt, and as soon as you slot a thigh between hers, she starts rutting against it shamelessly.
“fuck, chako, you’re so wet…” you gasp, skin covered in enough of her slick to make the glide smooth. “i’m sorry,” she cries against your lips. “i’m so sorry, f-forgive me…i can’t stop…”
“shh, shh…you’re okay,” you coo, gently moving a strand of auburn hair away from her face to kiss her cheek. with her legs bracketing yours, your hips start moving on their own, seeking relief. “you’re so pretty, chako. so pretty…”
she kisses you again, a hand slithering inside your shirt to cup your breast. you double down, lifting up the fabric covering her chest and hunching down to take one of her rosy nipples between your lips. “ah, fuck!” ochako mewls, rutting faster against your thigh.
you try to match her pace, reaching down to move your shorts and panties to the side, needing the contact. and the feeling of bare skin against your hit is enough to throw you into your orgasm— the first of many. “oh— oh my god!!” the words are muffled, face buried between ochako’s perfect tits.
“yes…yes, please y/n, more!” she sobs, teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck as she violently topples into her own high, nails indenting crescents into your hip. purposeful to leave a mark.
after two or three hours, you were both aware that the effects of the pollen had passed. that you kept going simply because it felt so fucking good. none of the unspoken fantasy you’d had about each other could compare to the real thing.
and you’re positively, utterly worn when you finally collapse on ochako’s bed (a welcome change of location from the carpeted floor). her body is warm and soft, flushed face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “i think they really were right about helping each other out,” she giggles.
you can’t help but laugh, nodding your head. “yeah, damn doctors,” you joke. “are you feeling well now?”
“never been better,” she breathes, grinning up at you. “ten out of ten experience, but i never want to go through that ever again. i was pretty sure i was going to end up in a mental hopsital, lose my mind for good and never come back again.”
“ten out of ten, hm? was that the sex pollen talking, or…”
ochako’s fingers trace the line of your waist, watching you shiver. “nuh-uh, that was me talking. can’t believe we had to wait for that to happen to finally do it. i wouldn’t mind if we…helped each other out again, sometimes.”
it’s your turn to grin now, getting aroused again just by the way she’s talking so sweetly. “i thing that’s an amazing idea, ochako.”
┊┊a/n. the fact that i'm literally reading an omegaverse tgck fic as we speak...however i don't feel like i have enough knowledge to do the trope justice so sex pollen it is!! i educated myself on it through the official fanlore page it was actually rather interesting...
.✦ ݁˖ Synopsis — You and Satoru are long time rivals. While you constantly push yourself to your limits Satoru somehow always manages to one up you. Unfortunately for you being paired with him for the upcoming physics assignment means you’ll be forced into a collaboration, along with more endless arguments. Old feelings are forced out and fizzle into something neither of you could’ve expected.
.✦ ݁˖ Content — all characters are 18 (last year of high school), rivals-friends-lovers, slight angst, fluff, slow burn-ish?, academic stress, self-esteem issues, parental pressure, emotional vulnerability, awkward first kisses, physics
wc — 4.6k
a/n: a late thank you all for 1k!! I wanted to post this when I hit the milestone but we got there sooner than expected. I love you all so much I hope you enjoy this! (yes the title is based off of that song about chainsaw man)
The first time you were dethroned was when you were ten. Kids crowded around the bulletin board, scampering to find out their end-of-year marks. Usually, you came out victorious, always leading in terms of grades. Key word: usually.
You sauntered over after the push and shoving died down, pride welling in your chest as you prepared for another year of victory. “Who the hell is Gojo Satoru?!” Your mouth moved before you could process, eyebrows furrowing as you reread the chart.
1. Gojo, Satoru and just below, in second place, was your name — second place.
Your classmates turned to look at you, some giggling, some gasping, some even teasing. “Hey, looks like you aren’t the top nerd anymore!” You turned around with a scowl, shoving the boy to the side in search of your new nemesis.
“Hey, Gojo! You were the top scorer. How did you do that?” Your head whipped around to the source, fury bubbling in your chest. You saw a white-haired boy with another boy, Suguru, from the opposite class. You didn’t recognise the pale one, was he Satoru?
Suguru noticed your scowl from across the hall, and he gave a meek smile in an effort to mollify your nasty look. You marched over, “Are you Gojo Satoru?” Your tone was harsher than needed, face already heating up with a new wave of rage as the boy grinned. “Yeah, I moved here a few weeks ago! But er… who are you?”
Suguru gave a toothy smile, slinging his arm around Satoru before speaking again, “Yeah, Satoru joined recently, he's super smart — maybe smarter than you!” Now, ten-year-old Suguru had no intention of causing harm; he believed that you and Satoru could ‘nerd out’ together.
“Take that back! He just got lucky.” You crossed your arms, snarling at the boys. Gojo puffed his chest out, stepping closer to you in the process, “Well, Suguru isn't wrong. I was one of the top scorers in Kyoto. That's where I used to live.”
Suddenly, all the lectures, all the warnings, and all the lessons that the adults in your life had taught you about ‘bad words’ flew out of the window.
“Fuck you!”
It's no secret that the rivalry between you and Gojo Satoru continued throughout Junior High and into High School; many students were aware of the bickering between the two of you. Classmates often teased you both about it, claiming that you would end up together eventually.
That idea sickened you.
The teasing slowed as you came to the end of your high school years; classmates matured, and university applications were around the corner, so you couldn't even afford to waste time arguing with that dandelion head. However, it was hard not to have him teetering on your last nerve every other class. Being on the same academic frequency meant you and Gojo shared many classes. And most unfortunately for you, he sat right next to you in Physics.
A sing-song drawl of your name lurched you from your focus, a certain white-haired boy being the source. “Hey, are you even listening? I asked when lunch is, idiot.” He slumped onto the desk, holding his head up by his hand as he awaited your response. You rolled your eyes, “There is a clock right there in case you haven't noticed, four eyes.” Gojo clutched his chest with mock offence, straightening up just to dramatically flop back down again. “You wound me, truly.”
You scoff in response, turning back to your physics teacher who was now droning on about particle accelerators — seriously, what? You sighed; now you were going to have to catch up on whatever you'd missed in the minutes Gojo had distracted you. You were supposed to stay on top of everything in this class so it would be easier to study later! Unfortunately for you, Gojo continued his rambling. “Would you shut it? I'm trying to concentrate.”
Gojo grinned, then, in the highest pitch he could muster: “I’m trying to concentrate, Gojo-san, stop distracting me with your good looks.”
Oh, he didn't.
A gasp tore through your throat before you could stop it, eyes widening and fists clenching. “Stop that! I do not sound like that, and I didn't even say that!” you whisper-shouted at him, glancing around to make sure no one heard. He only giggled in response, using his hand to mimic your talking.
You smacked his hand back down, scowling as you tried to turn your focus back to the lesson, but Gojo had other plans.
You felt something hit the side of your head, you jerked to the side and winced in pain. Turning, you found Gojo snickering behind his hand. “Did you just throw something at me?” You gaped at him in disbelief, eyes glancing down to the pen that sat on the floor as evidence.
He only giggled harder, “Now why would I do that?” He batted his milky lashes, putting on a show of acting ‘innocent.’ You snarled in return, “You did! Ugh, you're such an ass!”
Before he could retaliate, you had swooped the pen off the floor and hurled it back at him; it narrowly missed his ear and was sent flying into the wall with a loud clack. The class went silent, aside from you and Gojo’s continued bickering. “Oh, real mature —” He was cut off by a cough from the teacher.
“Since the two of you seem to work so well together, how about I assign the two of you as partners for the assignment?”
Everyone was staring. Gojo’s ears were bright red, and his glasses began to slip down the bridge of his nose; you could feel the heat crawl up your neck. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole then and there.
You timidly spoke up, “Um, sir… do you mind going over the assignment once more?”
The rest of the class was somewhat humiliating. You had to ask your teacher to re-explain concepts for the assignment while everyone just stared — including Gojo! He hadn't even been paying attention. How was he not as confused as you were? And to make matters worse, he was your partner for the end-of-year project. How annoying.
“It wasn't even my fault! He's the one chucking pens around,” you complained to Shoko in your biology class. She was good friends with Gojo, but she always agreed with you when you'd spew complaints about the white-haired boy.
Shoko groaned, “He can be a real pain sometimes, sometimes I think Suguru likes him so much because they flirt with each other every chance they get. I mean, hey, good for you, but at least do that in another room.” You snorted in response to her words, scribbling down notes while doing so.
“But the thing I don't get is how come you and Geto are nice, but Gojo is like… insufferable.” Shoko’s lips twisted into a smile, “You complain about him a lot, y’know? Makes me think there are some underlying feelings.” You gasped loud enough for the table beside yours to shoot quizzical glances over at the two of you.
“Don’t you ever say that again. He looks like a dandelion with an attitude.”
She snickered to herself, turning back to her notes. You bit your lip as you watched her, fingers drumming anxiously against the desk. “Although… could you give me his number so I could text him about the project?…”
Later that night, you lay in bed, phone held awkwardly in your hands while your thumb hovered nervously over the keyboard. You didn't know why you were so scared to message him; it wasn't like you were doing it out of your own will, it was simply a way of communication for the project.
You sighed, typing out a few words before deleting them, “No, that's too formal,” you mumbled to yourself, brows furrowing as you began to retype.
Hey, Gojo, I got your number from Shoko.
When's a good time to discuss the topic for our project?
Before you could swipe off the app, a typing bubble appeared, disappeared, then reappeared, followed by a message.
Ig we could go to the library tmr at lunch
Wow, for a kid that smart, he didn't seem to grasp grammar all that well.
You thumbs-upped the message, switching your phone off and preparing to go to sleep when a ping cut through the silence. Rolling over, you groaned, picking up your phone and opening the notification.
Why don't we do a coffee shop instead
Yk so ppl don't steal our ideas
Once again, you reacted with a thumbs up, tossing your phone back onto your side table. He better be paying for your coffee, knowing Gojo, he would pick the most expensive and performative coffee shop in town.
The next day, you realised two things very quickly. One, Gojo looked unfairly good for someone who was approaching their final exams. And two, he had, in fact, chosen the most obnoxiously overpriced cafe in town. “For God's sake,” you muttered under your breath as you stepped through the door.
Soft light spilt across the polished floors, the music hummed softly, floating across the coffee shop while tables filled with students and office workers alike rattled on about their days. The menu hung on the wall looked more like your maths textbook than a list of snacks and beverages.
Unfortunately, Gojo was already there, plopped down in a booth at the far corner. His long legs stretched out beneath the table, circular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. An expensive-looking laptop sat open in front of him, along with what looked to be two desserts.
You trudged over, slinging your bag onto the cushions across from him and sliding in. “There you are! You’re late.” He tutted, wagging his finger in your face, “Oh, be quiet, it took me forever to find this place. Next time, pick a known cafe.” Gojo ignored you; instead, he slid over one of the cups, “Got a drink for ya, try it.”
The so-called drink had an abnormal amount of whipped cream, chocolate drizzle and sprinkles. He himself had a similar-looking beverage, except he had a flake. You rolled your eyes, “What is this? It looks like a cup of cavities.”
Picking up the cup, you analysed it, trying to find what on earth Gojo had ordered for you.
Your name had been scribbled across the cup in scraggly writing alongside what looked vaguely like a very angry cat.
“What is this?”
His grin widened, “You like? I drew you from memory.” You blinked at him, “That is not me.”
“It’s angry, just like you.”
You bit back a smile, trying to wrack your brain for an appropriate insult, but your words died on your tongue when Gojo leaned over and took a scoop of your whipped cream with his finger. “Hey!”
He leaned back, smirking to himself, “Hey, you snooze, you lose.”
Despite the usual bickering and Gojo stealing your drink, the assignment discussion started surprisingly smoothly.
The inverse square law wasn’t the simplest of assignments, especially considering how your teacher expected a practical demonstration alongside the written report. Most of the pairs were doing basic presentations like Ohm's law or refraction.
But of course, as always, Gojo had to be difficult. “You know what? We should do a full experimental model —” he spun his pen between his fingers, “— like measuring radiation intensity mathematically by using controlled distances.”
You blinked at him, “Gojo, as much as I’d love to show off, I’d rather work with you for as little time as possible.” He rolled his eyes at you, turning his laptop to face you. “It’s not that hard, don’t be a baby.”
Equations filled the screen, diagrams and notes followed suit. Your eyes widened at his words.
He already planned it? Within what? Two days.
That familiar feeling that settled in your stomach, that awful sensation that you had carried since you were ten. You had spent hours revising and relearning formulas and facts, pushing your brain to its limit while you studied for every test like it was your last. He was the complete opposite. It was like he could just glance at the revision materials and understand them like that.
People praised you for your discipline, the hard work and dedication it took you to get to where you are now, but with him?
He was gifted. That was something you could never achieve, not with discipline, not with hard work or even motivation.
The fact was that Gojo was miles ahead of you, and you would never catch up.
“Hello? Earth to stupid?” His voice snapped you from your thoughts, “Sorry, I was just uh…” Your mind blanked, eyes scanning over his laptop screen once more. “I know, I know. You were trying to wrap that little head of yours around these complex equations.” He reached a faux sympathetic hand out, attempting to grab your hand just to be smacked away, “Dream on, dandelion.”
A faint smile graced his lips, turning the laptop back, “Alright then, where do we find the materials for our experiment?”
Over the next few weeks, the project became impossible to escape. Casual library meetings turned into cafe meetings, which ran on for hours until closing, which meant the two of you ended up walking home together most nights.
Gojo claimed it was because your house was on the way to his; you suspected it was because he enjoyed having someone to talk to.
He continued to be as patronising as ever, scolding you for getting equations wrong, oversimplifying findings, and even teasing you when you didn’t understand concepts. But you also learned a few things about him.
Like how he ate a ridiculous amount of sugary snacks, possibly enough to kill a small rodent, and how he spun his pen in his fingers when concentrating.
Or how he got strangely competitive, always challenging you to petty competitions like who could finish their food the fastest, or who could recite the phonetic alphabet the quickest.
You hated how fast he was growing on you.
“Hey! Why are you always zoning out? We have a project to finish.” You jolted upright from where you had been absentmindedly staring at him from across the table. “Huh? Sorry, just — uh — tired.” He hummed, unconvinced.
“Just get to work, I’m the one doing everything here.” You snorted at his words, “Seriously? Like, I haven’t been hauling your weight for the past two weeks?” Satoru scoffed, “Well, the deadline is soon, and I work best under pressure.” You kicked his shin under the table, “Ouch!”
A cafe employee passed by and shot the two of you a warning glance, shushing aggressively at you both while doing so. You bowed your head apologetically while Satoru whispered a small ‘sorry’ with pink ears.
You turned back to look at him after the server had left, “Get back to work, dandelion.”
A few more silent minutes passed by as the two of you worked, occasionally catching the other's eye and averting your gaze. Then Satoru leaned over the table towards you, “Let’s ditch this place, I’m bored.” You sighed, eyes staying fixed on the paper in front of you, “No, Satoru, besides, you were the one who said the deadline was soon.”
“Oh, c’mon, we’ve been here for hours.” He whined, propping his chin onto his hand. “Yeah, and seventy-five percent of the time spent here was us bickering over the project instead of actually working on it.” Your eyes finally met his; his bright eyes stared up at you through his thick-rimmed glasses. It was truly unfair how good he looked despite only drinking liquefied sugar.
“You’re such a nerd.”
“You quite literally built an entire electrical system out of Lego and dissected chargers for fun,” you countered.
“Yeah, but I’m not a try-hard, like someone.” He grinned at you, lopsided but still holding the same cocky persona. You muttered under your breath, “Oh, go test the law of gravity on the nearest staircase.” Satoru snorted, pushing his glasses further up his nose, “Seems like I struck a nerve, idiot.”
“I’m going to strike you in the face if you don’t get back to work.”
The day for the final presentation crept closer and closer, and almost everyone in your physics class was on edge. Aside from the obvious Gojo Satoru, of course.
Satoru managed to stay relaxed about the entire thing, cracking jokes while he was supposed to be researching and dragging you on walks to ‘refresh your mind’ when in reality he wanted to stop by an ice cream parlour. You wanted to get mad at him, spit snarky comments and berate him like you usually would, but for some reason, you found his interruptions to be surprisingly helpful.
Each passing day, your project became more refined, and with each edit, Satoru’s ego grew; his teasing made that obvious.
‘Hah, I bet you didn’t catch that mistake in the results,’ or ‘you really need to amp up your mathematical analysis, it’s embarrassing,’ were just some of the many so-called jokes he would make at your self-esteem's expense.
Subconsciously, you began to feel inferior to Satoru, not because you wanted to, but something deep down told you that it was true. Years of hard work and dedication only to come second to him every single time, and each loss would mean being berated by your parents about ‘underperforming.’
You tried to push those feelings down, especially since, for once, you and Satoru had actually been getting along. Shoko had commented on it in biology, and since then, you started to become more aware of the growing friendship between you two.
Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.
He approached you after class, just a few days before the assignment was due, “Hey, uh, do you mind coming over after school to go over the final details? I may or may not have gotten grounded.”
You snorted, “Grounded? At your big age? What did you do this time?” The two of you fell into step as he walked you to your next class. Satoru had memorised your timetable by now, using it to bother you in between classes.
“Ah, y’know, I broke an expensive vase while testing projectile physics. No biggie,” he shoved his hands into his pockets, turning his head away to hide the red creeping onto his cheeks from embarrassment.
A giggle escaped you before you could stop it, and his blush only deepened. “Shut up,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.
“Sorry, sorry. I’ll see you after school, then?” You waved him off as you stepped into the class. Satoru watched for a moment before catching the eye of your teacher and scurrying off.
After school, he met you by the gates, offering a cheeky grin.
The walk to his house was surprisingly quiet. Usually, the two of you would’ve started squabbling by now. Maybe you would’ve insulted his haircut, maybe he would’ve teased you about the accessories on your bag. Instead, you walked side by side, comfortable in the silence.
“Y’know,” he said, kicking a pebble along the pavement, “You’re not half bad.” You scoffed playfully, “What’s that supposed to mean, dandelion?”
Satoru rolled his eyes, turning away. “I dunno, I mean we get along better than I thought.” You let out an airy laugh, shaking your head. “I guess, I mean, it’s hard not to get along with someone you’ve spent practically every day with for a month.”
Another wave of silence passed over the two of you.
You let out a shaky breath, “Do you think we’ll score high enough?” Satoru stared at you as if you had two heads, “Come on, you idiot. When have I ever come second?” His words made something uncomfortable twist in your chest, a feeling you knew all too well.
Before long, you had reached the grand entrance to his house. Tall, pristine white gates circled the property, similar to the gates surrounding nearby houses.
“You’re such a liar! We didn’t even pass anywhere near my street.” Satoru shifted uncomfortably, “Yeah, well… I take a different route from the cafe. It’s quicker.” He nudged past you, punching in the code for the gate.
You followed him in. “This is ridiculous. Why is your house so big?” The garden alone was huge, rows of pretty flowers accompanied by the greenest grass you’ve ever seen, topped off with large trees. Satoru shrugged, unlocking the front door and stepping inside, “My family’s the one who chose it, not me.”
The house itself was beautiful — and even that was an understatement. Although you couldn’t help but notice how quiet it was.
His room, however, was the exact opposite of the rest of his neat, modern house.
The walls were plastered with Spider-Man posters, small figures of what looked to be those Digimon characters he always rambled on about. Your eyes wandered over to a bookshelf which was practically overflowing with textbooks, comics, and what you assumed to be collecting card binders.
His desk was cluttered with Lego projects and half-built gadgets. You walked over, poking at an unfinished Lego set, “Do you ever clean up after yourself?”
Satoru launched himself into his chair, “Nah, we have cleaners who come by. Besides, they’re not allowed in my room in case they mess up my projects.”
You gave a puzzled look, “Girls won’t want to come over if you live like some slob.”
“You’re here, though.”
You felt your body heat up, “I don’t count!” Satoru gave his signature grin, sitting up to pull out the materials.
The next hour passed with the two of you revising and reviewing the final report. At first, everything was going well. Neither of you had made a petty comment, and the assignment had seemingly gone well.
Towards the end of the paper, Satoru frowned, “Hm.” You turned to look at him. “What?”
“Nothing, but your analysis is kinda weak. You should rewrite this; it isn’t up to my standard.” You felt your jaw clench, “Your standard?” He nodded, “I mean, it might be okay for you, but I don’t think it matches the pace we’re setting.”
Your shoulders stiffened. “I think it’s well written.”
That familiar feeling bubbled in your chest. That feeling you tried to ignore all these weeks.
“Honestly, no wonder you missed that,” he laughed playfully. You tried to remain composed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just that I caught it first.”
You felt something deep inside of you snap.
“Yeah. No fucking wonder.”
He looked up, “Huh?”
“I said: no fucking wonder. No wonder I’m always behind you because even at my best, I’m still not enough to beat you.”
Satoru stared at you, blue eyes widening in a mix of shock and confusion.
You continued, “It’s just easy for you, isn’t it? You can just be smart, but I’m not like you, Satoru! I’m not naturally like that. I work so, so hard and I still come up short.”
The room fell silent, and the air felt thicker. You felt tears prickle in your eyes from the overwhelming jealousy coursing through your veins.
“What are you talking about?” He said quietly, tilting his head as if it would help him understand better. You stood so quickly that a few of his figurines clattered off his desk.
“You don’t get it, do you?”
His brows furrowed as he stood up, carefully repositioning his figurines before facing you once more.
You felt years of anger — jealousy — resurface.
“I spend hours — days or weeks even — studying, revising, just trying to be better.” You felt the tears fall before you could stop them, “I go over my notes over and over until my eyes sting, I pay attention in every class, I barely take days off even when I’m sick!” You sniffled, “Y-Yet somehow you’re always ahead of me. Every damn time.”
You couldn’t stop the frustrated words that continued to pour out, “Do you know how infuriating that is? To have all your hard work thrown down the drain because someone is so effortlessly smart?”
A small hiccup escaped you, “I’m so jealous of you, Satoru, and I hate myself for it.”
Satoru’s expression slowly changed, his eyes softened as he took a step closer.
“I wish — I wish I wasn’t always runner-up every single time.” Your voice cracked slightly as you spoke.
You suddenly felt small in his all too spacious room, and the air felt warmer than it did ten minutes ago. “I hate it, and I wish I could hate you for it too.”
For the first time in years, Satoru didn’t ridicule you. He didn’t crack a single joke at your expense; instead, he took another step closer, until he was staring down at you.
“You’re wrong, idiot.”
You scoffed at the juxtaposition of that stupid insult during this time.
Your eyes met his. “Well, you are right, but not entirely.” He reluctantly held onto your wrist, “I only really try when I’m up against you. You give me a real challenge.”
You let out a watery laugh, “Really?” He nodded all too enthusiastically, “Really! Gosh, it’s so exhilarating having someone to compete with for once. It’s not like I study as much as you do, but you put up a fight.”
His voice was quieter now, “Besides, I’ve always been jealous of you, of your determination, your hard work. I don’t think I’d make it very far if it wasn’t for my brains.” He knocked the side of his head awkwardly.
You choked out a noise of surprise, eyes widening at his confession. “I’m jealous of the fact that you’ve worked for everything you’ve achieved, I just… have it.” You felt your chest tighten.
For years, you had assumed Satoru looked down on you, that he always thought of you as lukewarm at best. But now? He’s telling you he admires your drive.
You stared at each other for what felt like minutes before he turned away, his cheeks taking on a pink tint.
“Wow.”
You giggled, wiping away your tears with your free hand, “Wow?” Satoru’s eyes darted around awkwardly, “I think that’s the most emotionally vulnerable I’ve ever been.” You laughed quietly, earning a soft chuckle from him.
“Yeah, never do that again. It was so weird,” you joked. He scoffed at you, “I take it back.”
You laughed again, louder this time. Your eyes met his once more, your smiles softening into something quieter, rawer.
His glasses began to slip down his nose, and you moved to push them back up. Satoru’s breath hitched, and his eyes flickered to your lips.
“Satoru?” You whispered.
“Yeah?”
His face burned, white hair beginning to stick to his forehead from the nervous sweat. He leaned in closer, his nose barely grazing your own, “C-Can I…?” It was as if the words died on his tongue.
You leaned in, pressing your lips to his in an awkward kiss. His glasses bumped your forehead, causing you to wince against his mouth, then you accidentally stood on his toe, making him yelp.
He pulled away with a chuckle, “Wait, stop, I’m going to laugh.” You burst into a fit of giggles at his confession, intertwining your hand with his absentmindedly.
Suddenly, he stopped, “Oh my god.”
“What?” You asked worriedly, scanning your face for any harm.
“You were my first kiss! Ew.”
You punched him in the shoulder, “As if I wanted you to be mine, dandelion.”
“Ouch! Who punches someone after a kiss?” He winced, rubbing his shoulder. “Who insults them afterwards?” You retorted.
Satoru grinned, that same infuriating face. Loud and bright as ever.
demon!kyojuro rengoku who doesn't recognize you until he smells you, you scent wakes something on him, his pupils getting smaller and his brows twitching. His minds goes fast but his senses faster, he keeps smelling you, trying to get closer to you but you step back every time he steps closer.
demon!kyojuro rengoku doesn't remember you, at all. Not all your young years together, courting you and promising to marry you when you were older. He looks like a completely different person, with his fangs and even darker hair. His eyes aren't the eyes of the boy you once loved, they were the eyes of a killer. Of an animal.
demon!kyojuro rengoku whose breathing gets faster because he needs to get closer to you, he needs it. He doesn't know why, his brain isn't processing his needs, but he wants to see you better in the night.
demon!kyojuro rengoku who circles you slowly now, your scent is everywhere, wrapping around him, pulling at threads he cannot name. He doesn't speak your name, but something in him hungers to taste it on the air. His claws flex at his sides as he leans in closer despite how you keep retreating. Every step you take back only makes his golden eyes burn hotter in the dark.
You stand there with your heart cracking open all over again. This is not the Kyojuro who once held your hands under blooming wisteria and whispered promises of a future filled with laughter. That boy is gone, devoured by whatever turned him into this. You hate how your body still reacts to him, traitorous and raw.
demon!kyojuro rengoku whose instincts scream louder than any memory. He doesn't understand the pull, only that your warmth calls to the cold emptiness inside him. His breathing comes rough, he corners you against the old wooden wall of the abandoned shrine. One clawed hand braces beside your head, caging you without touching. He lowers his face to the curve of your neck and a growl slips out. The heat of his breath makes your pulse jump wildly under his lips.
You want to push him away and pull him closer all at once. Tears sting your eyes because his touch feels familiar and wrong, a ghost wearing the skin of the man you loved.
"Kyojuro," you whisper but he only tilts his head at the sound, pupils shrinking to slits. Recognition flickers somewhere in his animal gaze, buried too deep, and it hurts worse than if he had simply torn into you. Your hands tremble as they hover near his chest, not daring to make contact, afraid the demon will bite and afraid the last piece of your Kyojuro will vanish if you do.
demon!kyojuro rengoku who presses in anyway, body flush against yours in a way that steals your breath. His muscles are harder now, coiled with demonic strength. He scents you again, dragging his nose along your collarbone as a rough sound escapes him, a whine mixed with a snarl. His fangs graze just above your racing heartbeat. He doesn't bite, but the threat lingers, sending unwanted heat pooling low in your belly even as grief claws at your throat.
You ache for the boy who once blushed when your fingers brushed his, who spoke of protecting you with bright eyes and louder voice. This version of him wants you too, but in a feral way that could destroy everything left of the love you shared. Still you do not run. even heartbroken, some stupid part of you hopes that if he stays close long enough, your scent might drag him back from the dark.
demon!kyojuro rengoku whose hands finally settle on your waist, claws pricking through fabric without breaking skin. He holds you like something fragile and edible at the same time, instincts warring inside him. His forehead drops to rest against yours and for one fractured second his brows furrow, the old pain is trying to surface. Then it's gone, swallowed by the hunger again. He needs more of you. he will take more of you, whether memory returns or not. and you, god help you, let him.
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walk with me omega!ochaco and omega!reader bot in heat at the same damn time going through it together
**if you don't f w/ omegaverse how about like sex pollen or smtg? (^∧^)
-zzz
s☆x pollen? - ochako uraraka 18+ MDNI!!!
you didn’t like this operation from the start. sweeping a laboratory based on dubious and barely backed up allegations, with little to no knowledge about what you might have even found in there. drugs? or even worse, nomus? it didn’t sit right with you that they would ask for the intervention of two pro heroes when there were still so many questions about, well, everything.
the only reassurance was getting teamed up with ochako. if things went south, you would’ve had each other’s back. but no training in your years at U.A. or out in the field could’ve prepared you for this. all it took was a police officer accidentally knocking over some containers of unknown substances, you and uravity pushing the man away to take the hit, and now…this.
it took a while for the symptoms to show, the medical staff said you were lucky because you only inhaled the fumes and didn’t ingest any of it, and the only way to get rid of the effects was to wait. yeah, right, like hell you can wait.
the “super dangerous” substance was sex pollen, a new type of diversion some maniac came up with, meant to distract heroes by puffing just a tiny bit, enough to mess with their minds. the amount in your body must’ve bean at least ten times greater, and it was a lie you told yourself to stay sane.
but how the fuck are you supposed to stay sane when you and ochako share an apartment!?
the moment the police escorted you home - in separate cars - you locked yourselves in your respective bedroom. it’s been an hour now, and your body is giving no sign of cooling off, the desire raging in your veins still as maddening as ever.
and for some reason, you don’t want to give into it. the mere friction of your clothes rubbing against you borders on painful. you should be locked up, yeah, that’s the only reasonable way to deal with this. because if your body was already making you go out of your mind, ochako is definitely making this worse.
you can hear her, or rather, her moans. loud as fuck, as she gets herself off over and over again until she’s crying, because it’s never enough. a nurse with a cheeky little smile, back at the hospital, told you something that you didn’t even dare entertain, not even at the back of your mind.
”you know, they say the effects go away faster if someone’s helping you out.”
yeah, no fucking way.
but now the words are coming back, infiltrating themselves into every inch of your poor, weak mind. perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea? but how would you even ask her? you locked yourselves away from each other exactly to avoid that, but—
“y/n,” a quiet mewl came from the other side of the wall. “fuck i— i-i can’t do this anymore, it hurts…p-please help me, please—”
that was all the convincing it took. you’re sure you almost detach the damn handle from your door when you fling it open, only to find ochako’s already unlocked— ready, waiting. “i’m so, so sorry b-but i can’t do this anymore, i feel like i’m going insane!” she whines, big doe eyes wide and pleading as she watches you from the crack in the door. “we can help each other out, no? m-make this go away fast.”
“yeah, alright,” you nod, hands shaking, barely keeping yourself from breaking down the door and pounce. “just let me in.”
ochako’s hand grabs the front of your shirt and yanks, the kiss she locks your lips is dizzying enough neither of you feels it when you topple to the floor. she’s in nothing but an oversized shirt, and as soon as you slot a thigh between hers, she starts rutting against it shamelessly.
“fuck, chako, you’re so wet…” you gasp, skin covered in enough of her slick to make the glide smooth. “i’m sorry,” she cries against your lips. “i’m so sorry, f-forgive me…i can’t stop…”
“shh, shh…you’re okay,” you coo, gently moving a strand of auburn hair away from her face to kiss her cheek. with her legs bracketing yours, your hips start moving on their own, seeking relief. “you’re so pretty, chako. so pretty…”
she kisses you again, a hand slithering inside your shirt to cup your breast. you double down, lifting up the fabric covering her chest and hunching down to take one of her rosy nipples between your lips. “ah, fuck!” ochako mewls, rutting faster against your thigh.
you try to match her pace, reaching down to move your shorts and panties to the side, needing the contact. and the feeling of bare skin against your hit is enough to throw you into your orgasm— the first of many. “oh— oh my god!!” the words are muffled, face buried between ochako’s perfect tits.
“yes…yes, please y/n, more!” she sobs, teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck as she violently topples into her own high, nails indenting crescents into your hip. purposeful to leave a mark.
after two or three hours, you were both aware that the effects of the pollen had passed. that you kept going simply because it felt so fucking good. none of the unspoken fantasy you’d had about each other could compare to the real thing.
and you’re positively, utterly worn when you finally collapse on ochako’s bed (a welcome change of location from the carpeted floor). her body is warm and soft, flushed face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “i think they really were right about helping each other out,” she giggles.
you can’t help but laugh, nodding your head. “yeah, damn doctors,” you joke. “are you feeling well now?”
“never been better,” she breathes, grinning up at you. “ten out of ten experience, but i never want to go through that ever again. i was pretty sure i was going to end up in a mental hopsital, lose my mind for good and never come back again.”
“ten out of ten, hm? was that the sex pollen talking, or…”
ochako’s fingers trace the line of your waist, watching you shiver. “nuh-uh, that was me talking. can’t believe we had to wait for that to happen to finally do it. i wouldn’t mind if we…helped each other out again, sometimes.”
it’s your turn to grin now, getting aroused again just by the way she’s talking so sweetly. “i thing that’s an amazing idea, ochako.”
┊┊a/n. the fact that i'm literally reading an omegaverse tgck fic as we speak...however i don't feel like i have enough knowledge to do the trope justice so sex pollen it is!! i educated myself on it through the official fanlore page it was actually rather interesting...
I hc touya to be a virgin and probably crying blood tears during 🌶️ couse it’s his first time feeling genuinely loved and cared for. I also think he would DIE for praise from his s/o
Do as you please with this information 🤗
if we're talking canonically that would mean that he needs to trust his partner with his LIFE to have sex with them. and this is where i'm personally conflicted, i don't know where i stand from a purely canon analysis point of view
HOWEVER LET'S DITCH THAT AND FOCUS ON YOUR HC because YES we see touya cry when he's overwhelmed (final war arc) so if he ever found himself to be involved in such a deep and intimate relationship, yeah he would definitely cry
I think it’s more horror theme. (The one who sent you that ask of obsession au)
As much I enjoy of good written Yandere that doesn’t involve with kidnapping like 🛸. I like the psychological aspect of it.
Idk where I saw but I like the idea of one yandere fic that the reader would PREFER to be with their ex (who is borderline Yandere but tries to be healthy!) than their current bf that they are trying to get away from (full blown Yandere).
the horror is only handled correctly if the person who's used the one wish willow is portrayed as the actual villain
i think the whole point of a yandere is the fact that they overtly act on their controlling impulses, otherwise it wouldn't be a yandere. however, yes, the psychological aspect is very important (pivotal, or it wouldn't be a yandere)
regarding the last one, it's very interesting because we also clearly see a pattern in reader's behavior with their choice of partners (reader, please go to therapy. it's the only option i fear.)
Also one thing I love most from yandere AUs is the angst disguised as fluff because of how good the love interest is at manipulating reader
-🛸
yes! when the love interest starts complying/makes the yandere think they're finally starting to fall for them but it's a calculated trap instead. OR the love interest's psyche starts to crumble and they develop stockholm syndrome. lots to explore here
roommate!kirara hoshi and pervert!reader nsfw headcanons ˚.✦
roommate!kirara hoshi who has this habit of looking incredibly hot doing mundane things like the laundry or cooking. She always makes you dinner in a tank top and shorts, bending over to let you see the pretty curve of her ass. At least you're convinced she does it to torture you.
roommate!kirara hoshi who feeds you tiny spoons of what she's cooking to ask you if it's well seasoned. She holds your chin and tells you "Open up" with her velvety voice after all day. You clench on the spot, obeying what she tells you and getting lost in her starry eyes.
roommate!kirara hoshi who knows exactly how to move around you, her hips swaying when she walks past you in the hallway, your eyes always catching her thighs.
roommate!kirara hoshi who leaves her laundry basket in the shared bathroom and you find yourself lingering near her clothes when she's not around. Your hands shake a little when you pick up one of her worn tank tops and press it to your face, the faint smell of sweat mixed with her vanilla cream makes your stomach tighten.
roommate!kirara hoshi who tells you she's going to arrive late that night and you take the opportunity to go into her room. At first it's innocent, laying in her bed and reading the magazines on her nightstand. But the ache between your legs grows too strong to ignore. You end up grinding against her pillow slowly.
roommate!kirara hoshi whose pillow is being ruined by you as you ride it completely naked, imagining it was her rubbing her fingers against your clit.
roommate!kirara hoshi who comes back earlier and finds you with your shorts pulled down, thighs trembling as you desperately hump her pillow, too lost in it that you didn't even realize she was there.
roommate!kirara hoshi who doesn't laugh, she steps closer instead, brushing your hair back as you gasp. "Heyy, been thinking about me?" She sits on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to nod and pulling you into her lap.
roommate!kirara hoshi who lets you feel how hard she alread is under her shorts.
roommate!kirara hoshi who kisses you slow while her hands slide under your shirt. She is such a sweetheart about it, "You look sooo pretty right now, you know that? I was waiting for you to come to me first." Her fingers are patient as they prep you, but her cock is thick and eager when she finally presses inside, filling you up until you gasp against her neck.
roommate!kirara hoshi who fucks you so good it makes your head spin. She holds your hips steady, thrusting in a steady rhythm that has you moaning her name. Every time you clench around her she groans softly, telling you how she is going to take care of you like this whenever you want.
roommate!kirara hoshi who asks to cum inside of you, she looks up at you with one of your tits in her hand, giving it a little squeeze while she pants and asks the question. How could you say no?
roommate!kirara hoshi who spills inside of you, surprising you how much she cums, making your lower belly slightly rounder.
roommate!kirara hoshi who keeps you in her lap, not sliding out of you because having you wrapped around her feels too damn good.
roommate!kirara hoshi and you, who fall asleep on her bed still together.
roommate!kirara hoshi who wakes you up with a twitch of her cock, now she's the one needy for you!
a/n: is this good? probably not. but if you read this pls go request something for kirara i want to write a lot for her
art by whoareyoupisi on x
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I personally love yandere AUs that don’t just revolve on killing and kidnapping, I’m more into the psychological aspect of it like the manipulation, isolation, and how they’ll do whatever it takes to get what they want bc I think it truly feels the character’s mind is being explored… but in a darker twist
-🛸
they're a beautiful psychological profile to be explored and analyzed, because instead of stopping at intrusive thoughts they put them into practice, with seemingly no care for social or reality rules. they're also deeply alone people who also perfect a persona to live among others unsuspected. I really love it when media portray well rounded characters with such layered psyches