cw: suggestive

since the day you met, your boyfriend's quirk has always been... active around you, let's call it that.

the first dozen times, denki apologized profusely, even going as far as to stay entirely out of reach from you. so dramatic. it was only happening when you guys touched, and even then, it's not like you cared. it never hurt; just tingled, really.

finally, he explained that it was involuntary, like a knee-jerk reflex at the doctor. "you're like the little hammer they use to, tap, huh—!" he pantomimes for you, kicking his leg out.

"uh-huh... but why? i've never seen you do that with anyone else."

denki rubs the back of his neck, chuckling. "well, that's 'cus i like you..."

you snort, hooking your elbow around his neck and tugging him into your side. "oh, do you now?"

"noo, stop!" he ducks out of your barrage of kisses to his face, pouting.

"denki, it doesn't hurt!" you insist, tugging him back with a hand on his wrist. "it's, like... when you rub your socks against the carpet and touch someone."

his frown deepens. "no one likes that feeling."

"i do– can you come here, damn."

his squirming ceases at once from your tone, a grin splitting his face as he shuffles in to wrap you in his arms. he knocks your foreheads together, yellow eyes flickering between yours. "are you sure it doesn't hurt?"

"positive, denki. i think if you were deadass shocking i'd be toast on the floor by now."

not looking entirely convinced, denki's hands move up and down your back, equal parts tentative and doting. he gives you a small peck, experimenting. then another. and then he's melting when your fingers thread in his hair, his lips sliding against yours with a renewed vigor. his hands slide down to your ass to press you flush against his chest, and when your mouth opens to his prodding tongue, he explores leisurely.

and then it happens again.

he jerks his head back immediately, eyes flashing open with concern. your tongue buzzes where he'd zapped you, tasting metallic and... earthy? you lick your lips and smile, a little dazed and a lot turned on. if he can do that with his mouth, then...

cw: nsfw (ﾉ∀＼*) i like to imagine katsuki as a brat tamer

you'd been up his ass all week, bugging for his attention—begging for pics, telling him to come over, sending him tiktoks full of yearning and all that mushy, soft shit. as agitated as he should be to have his phone constantly blown up by your lame ass, he isn't. he's more annoyed that he can't do anything about it, too busy with his agency.

and when he finally has time for you, what do you give him? a fucking attitude.

his apartment rattles quietly when the door slams behind him, rubber squeaking against linoleum as he toes his boots off. all of the lights are off, but he can hear distant noise from the tv in the bedroom, likely that show you say you hate so much and still watch anyway. after peeling off his suit and scrubbing the day from his body, he crawls over to you in bed.

you've made a home here with him, frequenting his place more than you do your own. his sheets smell like you even when you aren't here, and he welcomes the refresher as he joins you under the covers and pulls you across the mattress with a hand on your hip, pressing his bare chest flush to your back. you're wearing his shirt and you smell so fucking good.

"missed you." he murmurs against your skin, pressing long kisses to your jaw, the nape of your neck, the slope of your shoulder. and you have the absolute audacity to shrug his affections off.

the fuck?

he pulls your face his way with a large hand at your cheek, smashing his mouth against yours. he has you for five full seconds, then you're squirming away and putting distance between to say some dumb shit in protest like, "i'm tryna watch!"

he pinches your thigh, crumpling his face. "what's with the mood?"

"there is no mood," you swat at his hand. "i just told you."

"can't be that good. y'been needy all week and this is what i get when i finally get home?"

"don't be so dramatic. there's only—" you pick up the remote to check. "—ten minutes left. you came in at a bad time."

he sneers. "oh, did i? okay."

katsuki takes the remote from you, ignoring your fussing as he shoves at your shoulder to get you on your back, throwing his leg over you and bracketing your hips. when he shoves his hands under the shirt you'd stolen and dips his head down– your palm slaps over his mouth.

he halts, bent over at the waist, fingers curling into the meat of your torso. his ruby eyes glare down at you, unimpressed.

"this what we're doing today?" the words are muffled against your hand.

"you made it twenty times hotter in here, get off." when he encircles your wrist with his fingers, "katsuki. i'm serious."

he pushes your arm into the pillow above your head. "never minded the heat before." his voice is rough, threatening. he drags his lips down your neck, skimming canines across skin.

"think i deserve more than a "welcome home," brat. you have some fuckin' nerve treatin' me like an extra."

you make some complaint that goes fully ignored by him. he pulls your shirt off and throws it behind him, baring your naked chest to him. he wastes no time laving the sensitive skin and sucking cruel bruises across it. judging by the strained sound of your noises, you're holding back on him. he'll have to fix that.

he shoves a hand under your underwear with no preamble, stroking you with a cruel gentleness that contrasts the nip of his teeth at your chest. when your muscles loosen beneath him, legs fall open, hands bundle fistfuls of his hair and tug, he grins.

katsuki eases up, exchanging the bites and hickeys for nuzzling instead, dotting your hot face in kisses. your plea for more is music to his ears.

you and shoto have been friends for years. because of this, you've had to deal with a lot of confessions. oh, but not to you! to him.

others would approach whenever you were alone, nervously wringing their hands and avoiding eye contact as they asked you if you thought todoroki would fancy them. for a while you did entertain it, especially the ones that were sweet and really did appear genuinely infatuated with him. over time, come to find out that he was rejecting each and every one, there wasn't any use in getting someone's hopes up.

and also you've come to terms with being in love with him. that was definitely a considerable factor in your role as shoto's matchmaker.

so yeah, you stopped that nonsense shortly after.

but for all of the yearning you did in private, you never did directly ask him why he always turned everyone down. you're wondering this now, peering curiously at your best friend while window shopping at the mall with him.

"hey, shoto?"

he turns to you, bi-colored eyes attentive. you reflexively chuckle and have to busy yourself with the spring collection of a random store display.

"you know how everyone wants to be with you and stuff?"

"...be with me?"

"yeah, like," you huff, grabbing at empty air. god, this is embarrassing, you should just change topics before it gets weird. "i mean, wants to date you."

"they do?" he puzzles, and you glance at him to catch the confused tilt of his head.

"yes," you laugh. "just— nevermind."

he falls into step with you as you move on, navigating through the spotted crowd. it's a sunday, but there's few patrons out due to the good weather april has brought out. this weekend is the spring festival, you're reminded as a sign on a passing storefront reads with decorative cherry blossoms bordering the chalkboard.

"i guess i have noticed," his voice, quiet and thoughtful, pulls your attention. "but i've never felt the same."

"oh." you figured as much. "what, about dating?"

"no. about them."

would it be too obvious if you asked him to elaborate? you aren't going to, duh. don't be weird.

"why not?"

when he doesn't answer you right away, you immediately assume the worst. but when you chance a look from the corner of your eye, his gaze is elsewhere, unfocused, doing that pouty thing with his bottom lip that means he's thinking.

"i couldn't be romantically involved with a stranger."

"yeah, i get that." your smile is purely selfish.

the topic doesn't get brought up again until a few days later.

"do you think i should date?"

you startle from a comfortable silence, trying to school your horror before picking your head up from the book you were reading.

"why?" you drawl, looking at him carefully. "did you find a cute stranger that fast?" the joke falls flat.

"no." you have to prompt him for more. "it sounds important. dating, that is."

"impor... who have you been talking to? is mina prying into your love life again?"

"no."

"denki, then? i told that airhead not to—"

"no. i thought you—" he sighs, brows furrowing. "if you were to go on a date, where would you want it to be?"

you knew at some point this time would come. really, you should have been more prepared for the day he finally found someone who caught his eye. you're not sad about it; you've already spent a few decent years accepting the inevitable fact. you're basically in the acceptance stage of grief about it. but that doesn't prevent the sinking feeling in your gut from the prospect.

maybe you just got too comfortable watching shoto reject every guy and girl in musutafu.

"you could take them this weekend," you find yourself answering before you can linger on it. "cherry blossoms blooming and everything. it's romantic."

his silence is deafening. he's definitely imagining his crush under the sakura trees, stray petals in their hair that he'd pluck out, grazing their hand with his fingers to suggest hand-holding. would he kiss them then, or is a first date too soon for him? all of these images, of course, you have no right to consider.

"i thought we were going together, though. do you want me to make other plans?"

"of course not."

you'd rather die than third-wheel him, of all people. at least the festival is big and crowded every year, so you can easily get lost without making it a big deal.

shoto brings no one else with you. you'd been dreading the days leading up to today, so you're rightfully curious when he doesn't make you wait for a third person—but you wouldn't dare ruin this for yourself.

the stone path stretching out before you is smoothed over from decades of foot traffic. it's a cool and cloudless day, making for a nice walk under the shade of the trees. the breeze carries something sweet on it, and when it ruffles shoto's bangs you have to suppress the urge to reach out and fix it.

you meander through the crowd together, avoiding children dashing to chase one another and the occasional duck that mistakenly pecks at fallen petals. eventually the path forks and you mutually agree on the less crowded one, able to take an easier pace without rushing through it. you pull him over to a spot to take pictures, first of yourself, then him. he's so photogenic it kind of pisses you off. even as he stands there with the most awkward pose and smile against the elegant sakura trees in the background, he makes it look cute and natural.

you lower your phone and step into his space to pluck a soft blossom off of his hair. you press it into your palm as you scroll through the photos—keep, keep, delete that, keep...—thumb rubbing the silky petal.

"this is romantic."

your laugh is purely surprise. he made it sound like a question. "yeah. you don't think so?"

"i do." his gaze slides over the pink foliage. "but do you?"

"yeah, of course." your smile lessens, watching his attempt to envision romance. "hey, shoto?"

"hm?"

"you gonna tell me who the lucky person is, or are you gonna keep me guessing?"

you were doing good ignoring it, but it's been eating you up. might as well rip the band-aid off now so it's less of a shock later, right? but when he doesn't respond, you find him tilting his head, studying you.

"i suppose you mean you."

"...huh?"

"the lucky person is you."

you blink.

"is this not romantic enough?"

"what—? i'm sorry, i'm lost."

"i like you a lot."

...

he gets closer, enveloping your hand, the one clutching the petal, in both of his. "i thought you would like this, since you suggested it."

"i– well, that was for– i mean, i do."

"what's the matter?"

"nothing! nothing. but you said you..." you trail off, finally registering the scene. "...is this a date?"

"i would like it to be. is that okay?"

you only just now noticed his blush. your own face is hot.

cw: nsfw ~ lazy sex with sero 🫦

he's got you on top of him, long hands stroking up and down your sides, not bothering to take your shirt off but not minding when his fingers catch the hem and stroke soft skin, either.

his mouth pulls slowly at yours, tongue rolling through your parted slips to tangle with yours. thats how this started, actually. just the two of you making out on the couch. he got tired of sitting up and fell back, pulling you with him. you climbing onto him was your choice. the roll of his hips while you sat there all pretty was deliberately his.

somewhere between the slide of his open mouth down your throat and your responsing moan, his dick slid between your thighs. not entering just yet, working you up for it, first. his fingers squeeze your hips to drag you halfway down him, his other hand bunching all of the fabric playing barricade out of his way in a loose grip.

the soft notch of him catches you where you need it most, sticky tip slipping in.

"like that, cariño?" he whispers against that soft junction of your shoulder when you make a noise, nipping at your skin.

he plays with your ass, rutting into you with a slow roll of his hips. his mouth detaches to thumb his head against the arm rest, looking up at you with heavy-lidded, adoring eyes. "you look good up there." his grin spreads, lopsided.

i disagree that any of the top 3 would be into degrading but while they all give praise kinks its deffo a spectrum

katsuki would press you into the mattress and use insulting petnames (dumbass, prince/ss, needy and whiney baby, etc.,) with warm, calloused hands keeping yours above your head. because he's a talker he wouldn't put his mouth on you much, but if he does it's to bite and mark just to hear your noises if you've been too quiet for his liking. he's aggressive and very honest about how much you're pissing him off when you keep squirming, but his pace is less punishing and more-so tender if you squint. the slightest indication that you're struggling and he slows down, letting you adjust until he can get back into it. he's holding back for your sake, not his.

on the opposite end, izuku touches you and lets you touch him back while calling you pretty and handsome interchangeably. he keeps saying, "you're so good," and "does that feel okay?" always checking in. even with his fingers indenting every inch of your naked skin he's infuriatingly respectful about it. but he knows you can take it. you always do so, so well. big on cowgirl position so he can hold your face and makeout. can someone say breath play?

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | MDNI | requests are open

everything i write is intended to be gender neutral, however if you want fem or male pov, just request it! i am more versed in f/m and f/f, but i can figure out m/m. feel free to suggest something, ask me questions, or send hate. otherwise everything i make will be 100% self-indulgent

won't-do's: incest or pedophilia will-do's: literally anything else

but how do i know if you'll take my request or not? i just wont do it, its that simple. but send it anyway, you never know.

primary fandoms: creepypasta, my hero academia, southpark, hunger games, arcane, the amazing digital circus. even if ur fav isn't listed here, i am still down to write it. i was interacting with the mha fandom looong before i started watching it, so...

cw: suggestive

izuku runs his hands over your skin, his scarred palms tracing the planes of your body with a pace so languid it could be interpreted as reverant. he touches you with the same focused intent he has when studying quirks; there's that far-away look in his eyes as they follow the drag of his hands across your back. the expression gets periodically disrupted by the faintest smile at every little noise you make

"breathe, baby."

when he brushes hair off his brow to lean down and kiss that same path and you jolt at the feeling of his soft breath fanning your skin, those gentle hands curl rough fingers into your hip—firm, but not bruising—to keep you in place against the mattress

"you said you were ready,"

his disappointment is met with a whine of utter protest. air puffs against your skin as he chuckles

"well, then you gotta stay still. can you do that for me?"

your compliance is easily rewarded. he doesn't have the heart to leave you empty.

so we can all agree that shoto tilts his head when he's confused (or trying to eavesdrop) right? less like an excited puppy dog and more like a curious feline

like during class and aizawa's droning voice isn't pairing with what's on the board, so he's squinting and sliding his head this way and that

or when he's watching you train and there's something going through that pretty, lopsided head of his cause something about your form is off by just a tad, but he's still trying to figure that out

or even when you're sitting on the couch together with your legs curled up to your chest, him mirroring you, faces inches apart as he dotingly listens to you talk about your day, head cocked to the side

"you okay?" you'd ask with a confused half-laugh

he blinks and lifts his head upright, brows dipping together. "what? yes."

"okay, just- you look lost."

he stares at you blankly for a long stretch of seconds that gets your face hot

"...anyway, where was i—?"

"lost in your eyes."

...

"you're-" you snort. "such a damn cornball."

hitoshi is hands down the type to never confess. it's obviously a no-brainer that he would never use his quirk on you without your knowledge—and that's exactly why he equally would never confess

he's perfectly happy just being friends with you for the rest of his life. it makes his whole week to be able to eat lunch with you and walk to class together, gets his chest all tight and warm and makes his nerves jumpy when you lean into him a little to laugh at something he said. when you come over to his house and forget to take your jacket home with you, he holds it when he falls asleep. every picture—that you insisted upon taking, by the way—is kept in a stack of dozens like it in his closet.

in those rare moments after school or during the weekend when you come over to hang out, eventually get tired while lying in bed with him, and shamelessly use him as a pillow to rest? he's on the moon. you're so soft and peaceful and he takes advantage of the moment to play with your hair gently, so you won't wake. the arm under your hip drags you a little closer, makes sure he's at his most comfortable human-pillow position for you as long as possible. his arm falls asleep a few minutes later, but that's alright

yeah, he's okay loving you from afar like this.

the first time you and katsuki kissed was during an argument

this was back when you were friends, when it was wayyy easier to play into hating each other's guts rather than bare your hearts; he hated you, you hated him, and life was simple no one was fucking fooled let's bffr

you can't even remember what the argument was about, or how it even started, just that you were trading insults and having a yelling match and no one was close by to stop when things got physical

as it always would go down, someone swings first, the other deflects. proceed to shoving, kicking, biting if necessary (it never is). after falling to the floor and ending up on top of you, his hesitation wasn't apart of the usual program. neither was your hand, balled up in his shirt, tugging him down

your first kiss was nothing short of messy – heavy breaths, clicking teeth, spit dribbling, swollen lips. it took eternity to pull apart, mirroring each other with rumpled clothes and dishelved hair

it's not that katsuki can't kiss you like he did the first time, buuuut he's grown to like slow makeout seshs over the years -- y'know, where he can feel you right and really work you up