DeathNote

you had hung up before he could even open his mouth to ask you what the matter was, and it wasn’t much longer after that when he’d abandoned the lunch you packed for him this morning, leaving it sitting on the desk in his office while he rushed to his car— which is where he is now— avoiding crashing and causing collisions as he tries to make it back home to you as fast as he can.

worry sets in his chest as he flits through all the possible worst-case scenarios he could think of: had someone broken in? maybe it was a villain with a personal vendetta against him— or just a regular thief… no, it couldn’t have been; the house’s security system was far too strong for a low life criminal to be able to break through.

whatever it may be, shouto mentally prepares himself to face what’s on the other side of the front door when he arrives in record time— 15 minutes from the heart of the city to the gated neighbourhood in the suburbs where the two of you reside in a house you always complained was too big for just the two of you.

the harsh friction of rubber on pavement screeches loudly as he pulls into the driveway, disregarding his poor parking job before making a beeline for the front door. he inhales deeply in an attempt to calm his nerves and the frenzied voice in his head before shakily punching the four-digit code into the padlock. throwing the door open, shouto rushes in, eyes darting around the space of your home to look for you and any signs of disturbance.

everything seems to be in place in the living room— the photos of you and him and your mutual friends on the fireplace mantel, the empty sake bottles and deck of cards on the coffee table from saturday night’s drinking escapade, the bouquet of burgundy roses he had placed on the closed lid of the grand piano— nothing had moved an inch from where it was this morning when you sent him off to work with his lunch and a goodbye kiss.

he continues his inspection of the first floor, making thorough work of the kitchen and powder room before skipping every other step as he hurries up the spiral staircase. stopping at the top, he looks both ways— snapping his head towards your shared bedroom from which he hears muffled whimpers.

“honey?” no response. he feels his heartbeat audibly in his head and fear settle in his bones when your noises only increase in volume as he nears, his right hand covered in frost in preparation to confront the situation going on behind the closed door, “honey, are you alright?”

“shou…”

his eyes shoot wide open at the break in your voice, all sense of precaution flying out the window when he runs towards your room and flings the door open.

shouto didn’t know exactly what he was expecting to be welcomed with when he barged in— dark red painting his mulberry silk sheets with his lover bloodied and beaten and on the brink of death or being held at gunpoint... but he definitely was not expecting to find you curled up and writhing on the bed, nothing adorning your frame but a shirt that belonged to him.

he stands breathless and dumbfounded at the doorway as he tries to make sense of your current state, but is quickly knocked out of his thoughts when another whimper of his name pushes past you, “baby, what happened?” shouto rushes over to your side and raises his hand to cup your cheek soothingly, only to slightly retract it from how abnormally warm your skin felt, “you’re heating up…”

“i, hah— lust quirk… my co-worker accidentally hit me with it…” you whine out through little gasps of air, and suddenly his attention is averted to the pillow you had in between your legs— his pillow, and shouto feels a blush start to cover his face when he sees your bare cunny grind against it.

he finds himself in a trance— cool palm stuck to your heated cheek as his gaze travels up and down your body: from your parted lips to the labored rise and fall of your chest, all the way down to the wet patch on the pillow in between your thighs that only seems to be getting larger with each passing second.

he’s heard of lust quirks before— heard of their side effects: increased stamina, better orgasms— he’s also heard cheeky remarks from his friends about how they wished their lovers had them. he remembers you telling him some time ago that someone you worked with had one, but never in his wildest dreams did he think that you’d ever be affected by it.

with your whiny panting, glazed-over eyes and arched back as you try to get off on his pillow— shouto doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this needy when he hasn’t even laid a finger over your most sensitive parts yet. it has the initial worry dissipating from his blood to be quickly replaced with a burning desire as he toes off his boots and leaves them at the foot of the bed before climbing onto it to hover over you.

he can’t help the tightening in his pants and the lust evident in his gaze as he stares down at you squirming against the cool sheets, hips rutting against the pillow and sweet, needy cries falling onto his ears— but he also can’t help but feel slightly guilty for getting so aroused at your plight.

he can only imagine how frustrated you felt.

blue flames rip through your limbs, head clouded with a carnality that has you short of breath and searching desperately for release— you’ve never felt this way before; you can feel your heart pounding against your skull and the throbbing of your clit in your fingertips. it’s overwhelming, and it has you impatient as your hands reach up to entangle in his two-toned hair and pull him closer, “please, please, shou— need you so bad— please—”

it shakes him out of his thoughts, the drawn-out whine of his name sending blood flooding down to his cock, “it’s okay, baby, ‘m right here. you have me…” shouto shushes you and removes the palm from your cheek to replace the pillow in between your legs with his clothed thigh, breathlessly laughing when he sees your cream begin to coat the fabric, “so wet… ‘nd i haven’t even touched you yet.”

“uh huh, ‘s all for you— only you,” your thighs clench around his, a pleasured wail pushing past you at how much more friction there is with it than his pillow.

“you’re so cute when you’re this turned on…” he leans down to coo at you sweetly, brushing his nose against yours before slotting his lips in between your own .

the kiss is sloppy—lewd and filthy as spit get tossed between your mouths with little care for the way it dribbles down the corners of his lips, to his chin, to fall as fat globs onto the expanse of your chest.

a fire begins to burn in the pit of his stomach when you grind up on his thigh, and shouto can only bring himself to respond with a low moan as he sucks on your tongue. his palms travel up from your hips to cup your breasts, squeezing the soft mounds slightly before tracing his thumbs over your pebbled nipples through the fabric of the shirt you were wearing.

it belonged to him— the white dress shirt he had worn out to dinner with you last night. he wonders why you chose to reach for it, and is quick to arrive at an answer, “does this shirt smell like me, angel?”

you shy into the large neck of the shirt, nodding meekly as your thighs rub against his upon hearing the sweet adoration lacing his voice.

“you’re— hah— so perfect,” he pulls away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting him to you as he looks down, mouth parted and eyes lidded with lust as he watches every slow roll of your hips against his thigh, muttering an expletive when he feels your slick seep through the thick fabric of his pants to meet his bare skin, “baby, can i taste you?”

it comes out as barely a whisper— almost a plea against your lips, and the sultriness of his voice has you taking in a shaky breath and nodding your head frantically, “uh huh, wan’ you s’bad, shou…”

he leans in once more to capture your lips— softly, this time. shouto falls deeper when your grip on his hair tightens and your tongue slips into his mouth, but he pulls away just before he can drown, gently shushing your protested whines, “i know, honey, i know.”

with one final lingering kiss placed to your brow, he sits back on his haunches to roll you over onto your stomach, running his palms up the curves of your waist under his shirt you were wearing to tug it off of your frame.

you’re fully exposed to him now; he feels a lecherous heat radiating off of you and can see the thin sheen of your essence coating the insides of your plush thighs— he can smell it too— it’s smells like you, like the sugarplum sweetness he’s used to, but it’s unexpectedly strong.

unexpected, but most welcome.

it consumes his senses— has his head spinning and spit pooling at the tip of his tongue, and if anyone were to look into his eyes, they would be able to see just how dilated his pupils were, leaving little space for the grey and blue of his irises to show through. it’s almost as if your scent were casting a spell on him, and shouto can’t help but wonder whether this is an effect of the quirk you’re under.

he’s quick to remove his hero costume, leaving only his wrist guards and boxers on before clambering back on top of you to place his open mouth on the nape of your neck, evident hard-on pressing down on your ass, “jus’ let me take care of you…”

cool fingers trace down your spine, warm kisses following in their wake until they reach the dimples at the bottom of your back into which he digs his thumbs, wrapping his large hands around your hips to angle you up onto your knees. a little mumble of ‘arch your back’ followed by a quick rustle of the sheets and a subsequent ‘good girl’ has your cunny landing right in front of his face. he can see you so clearly like this, translucent slick sliding down your folds to collect on the swell of your clit.

did you always get this wet?

shouto examines your sex more closely than he thinks he ever has before, one hand leaving your hip to gently rub circles onto your nub with his thumb, slowly gliding it up and down your folds as he revels in the way your essence coats the pad of his finger in a thick glaze.

he’s teasing you— unknowingly— thumb continuing its assault on your clit while he finds himself enamoured by the way your cunny clenches down around empty air at his ministrations. he’s shaken out of his trance by a hurried wiggle of your hips and a muffled whimper of his name reaching his ears, quickly mumbling out a chuckle of an apology before leaning in to slot his pointed nose in between your folds and suck sweetly on your nub.

the soft, warm plush of his lips on the place you needed to feel him most has you crying out, arching your chest further into the mattress and one of your arms flying back to find the grip of his hands on your hips.

you’re incredibly sweet— tooth-rottingly so, and it’s not long before tender suckles turn into harsh licks up the length of your folds as he gets drunk on your taste, his tongue finding a home within your walls to try and taste more of you.

more, more, more.

insatiable; that’s what he is, humming contently at the slick that travels across his tongue and down his throat, slurring almost incoherently against the hot, tight ring of muscle, “y’taste— fuck— so good…”

the vibrations of his baritone voice send blood rushing down to your ever-swelling clit and his words of praise do nothing to stop the tightening of the coil in the pit of your stomach.

you feel yourself floating— head in the clouds and brain fogged from how he draws hearts onto your clit and the lewd squelches of him cleaning up your drooling cunt— it all feels so good, too good, and you slide the hand you had on top of his to grasp onto his fingers in a failed attempt to keep yourself grounded.

failed, because your actions have his other hand, his right hand flying down from your hip, cool thumb flicking over your throbbing nub and slightly cooler middle and ring fingers scissoring and sheathing themselves inside you.

you kick your feet against the mattress and gasp out when he finds that one shallow, sensitive spot that lies within your gummy walls, sending the tight coil in your stomach unravelling at full tilt sooner than you had wanted it to, “shou, p-please— cumming, ‘m cumming—!”

it’s a broken, drawn-out moan, and it travels straight to shouto’s cock as he grinds his crotch down into the mattress and hums, quirking his fingers faster and replacing his thumb with his lips.

he removes himself from you when your thighs begin to shake, turning you onto your back before hovering over you to lean down and take your lips in his. you feel him smirk against you after he pushes his way into your mouth, letting your cream spill from his tongue to yours, “see how sweet you taste, baby? gonna give me a cavity…”

you can only hum and lazily smile in agreement, chest heaving as your catch your breath. looking up at his muscular frame, you reach one hand out to trace your fingers down the lines of his sinewy torso until they arrive at the elastic waistband of his boxers, gently tugging his lower half against yours as you wrap your legs around his lithe waist for leverage, “wan’ you here…” you take his hand in yours and press his palm to your abdomen, “… please?”

his chest constricts at how sweetly you beg for him, your fingers tracing shapes on the back of his hand while you look up at him with dewy, bambi eyes.

“you’ll have me, angel… i’m yours— all yours, just as you are mine,” he hastily wipes your drying essence off his chin before leaning down to kiss you again— slowly and lovingly, running his thumb along your cheekbone to seal his promise.

you’re quick to spring into action, the both of you letting out a languid moan when you grind up along the outline of his cock, feeling the cool, sticky mess of his pre-cum seeping through the thin fabric of his boxers against your hot cunt.

shouto’s breath fans across your neck when he looks down, palming his cock briefly before pulling his boxers halfway down his thighs, shuddering at the cold air that sweeps from the open window over his leaking slit.

you marvel at how it twitches against his stomach, beads of pre-cum oozing out when he pumps the length a few times and runs a finger along the large vein on the underside; you know it as his most sensitive area.

using one hand, he angles your leg higher on his waist while he uses the other to guide the head of his cock to tap your swollen clit a few times, proceeding to then slide it in between your warm folds. he thumbs at his slit, coaxing more pre-cum out from it to lubricate you further as he struggles to push his red, bulbous head past the tight ring of muscle lining your entrance.

“y-you’re so much tighter… fuck—" it comes out as a strained groan when he manages to get half an inch inside you, fingers digging almost painfully into your waist.

you can only mewl out an apology in response and pull him in closer when your thighs tighten around his waist, a silent plea for him to fuck you.

“i know, honey, j-jus’ wait…” shouto takes a moment to draw his mind away from how your cunny sucks on his slit with every clamp down on it— knowing he would be sure to cum pre-maturely if he had spent any longer thinking about it.

with a low growl, he eases himself into your slick warmth— inch by agonizing inch— his girth brushing delicately against all the pleasure points that line your walls in a way that has your breath hitching in your throat and your hands flying up to grip onto his biceps. after what feels like an eternity, he finally sheathes his full length in you, head of his cock weighing down heavily on the sponge of your cervix.

it hurts— ever so slightly— the slow burn ripping through your core and down to your entrance, but shouto's kind enough to let you adjust to his size against what feels like your “virgin” walls. when he hears you let out a needy whimper, urging him to move, he begins to grind his hips down onto yours experimentally as he massages your cervix with his tip, groin simultaneously rubbing against your puffy nub in a way that ignites a fire in your stomach and has you writhing beneath him.

your noises are angelic— sweet, drawn-out moans of his name that ring in his head as his eyes roll back into his skull at the plush grip of your spongy walls— it has the muscles in his chest contracting and cock twitching inside of you almost frantically, in search of release.

after keeping his ministrations up for some time, he can tell you're about to cum by how the sounds that leave your lips increase in volume and frequency, and he takes this as the perfect opportunity to pull back out of you almost fully and drive back into you with a harsh, erotic groan.

shouto stops for a moment to catch his breath, the grip of your gummy walls around him making him feel like he might cum with just another thrust alone. you’re incredibly tight, almost painfully so, and it has the fire in the pit of his stomach only burning brighter with each passing moment. he draws back and forth deep into you, knocking your cervix with every thrust as they progressively get faster and rougher.

"i- ahn, right there, right there- fuck!" your mind goes numb from how he abuses the most sensitive spot that lies within your walls, and you weakly claw at his back in search of purchase.

your words prompt shouto to hoist your legs up onto the tops of his broad shoulders, the new angle he's hitting you at making your jaw fall slack and back arch, chest pressed flush against his own as he leans down to swallow your cries, "t-that feel good, angel?”

"mhm— gonna cum—!” he knocks your cervix repeatedly, the velvety feel of his dick squishing up against it finally getting that coil in your stomach to snap loose. it sends you reeling, walls spasming around his length and your eyes squeezing shut while you ride out your wave of pleasure.

shouto thinks he’s going to cum too— he can tell by the way icy hot pleasure courses through his veins and into his palms when he subconsciously heats one of them up and cools the other one down. before he can fully process his actions, the words spill out from his lips as a begging request, “can i brand you, baby?

“mhm, y-yeah—please…” your sweaty palms land on top of the backs of his hands, pressing them further into the fat that wraps around your hips, “make me yours, wanna be your pretty girl forever ‘nd ever…”

and that he does.

with a breathless proclamation of his love, he manipulates the temperatures radiating from either palm to leave a faint burn mark on your right hip and frostbite on your left while he spills inside your womb, thrusts faltering when you clamp down around his length— the pleasured pain from his quirk tumbling you into another orgasm as you cream around his cock yet again.

but it’s not enough— the mass of arousal from the lust quirk still weighs down heavily on your abdomen, and your hands find shouto’s to intertwine your fingers with his.

holding them to your chest, you lazily open your eyes and look up to meet his heterochromatic ones, sighing happily when he reaches down to kiss away the tears that spill onto your cheeks, “one more?”

his cock stirs awake from its place within your walls at your tender plea, and he raises your hand to plant his lips over each knuckle, “of course, angel… as many more times as you want; i’ll be right here,” with a final kiss placed to the inside of your calf, shouto leans forward, folding you nearly in half while he nestles his cock deeper within you— so deep you swear you can feel him in your womb.

he slowly draws his hips back and forth; this time around made a little easier from his milky seed smeared against your walls, and he calculates his thrusts so that the fat head of his cock prods that one spongy, sensitive spot that has you keening against him and your fingers holding a vice grip around his larger hands.

your gooey walls are quick to pulse around his length, breathless pants picking up their pace and whines of, ‘please, please, please!’ getting higher in pitch— the sweet noises reminiscent of those that you made when you came around his length not five minutes ago.

shouto frees a hand from your grasp, moving it up to cup your face as he kisses you deeply, muffling your shaky cries with his low groans, “that’s it— let go, baby,” his voice is silky and saccharine on your lips, and it, along with a final nudge of his cock against the deepest pleasure point inside you, sends you toppling into a third orgasm— this time stronger than the past few as overstimulation settles in your bones.

you’re shaking profusely under him, body wracked with trembles— and the only thing you can bring yourself to do is mindlessly babble against his skin while you cream around his cock, “i love you, i love you, i love you—!”

“f-fuck, i love you too— s-so much,” shouto lets out a guttural groan at your proclamation, the words travelling straight to the fire in the pit of his stomach as he buries his face in your neck and spills inside your womb—creamy seed sloshing around your walls to paint them an opaque, milky white.

he jerks slightly on top of you, jolts of intense euphoria shooting through his limbs— but before he can catch his breath, shouto’s leaning down to swirl his tongue over your nipples after another meek whimper of, ‘one more?’ falls onto his heeding ears.

one more time turns into three more times turns into more times than shouto can count—it’s been nearly six hours since he’s arrived home and the sun’s begun to set now; it shines down on your body from the open windows of your bedroom and casts a warm orange glow over your skin. if shouto weren’t so focused on engraving the sloppy mess of his cum and your cream coating the base of his cock and groin into his brain, he’d be looking deep into your eyes, admiring the way they twinkle and glow a few shades lighter under the setting sun.

but he’s far too gone for that now, his hips slapping erratically against the backs of your thighs while your legs tremble atop his broad shoulders— cum gushing out of your worn cunny and dribbling down your skin to soak the bed sheets with every hasty thrust.

the air is thick with the smell of sex and lewd sounds of your shared moans as you cum around his cock for the sixth time that day— an additional two times on his tongue and fingers.

this was too much, even for a man with his stamina— filling you up with his hot seed nearly enough times to count on both his hands— yet he can’t find it within himself to stop; not with your angelic mewls, not with the way your nails scratch red wings onto his back, not with how the wet walls of your cunny suck him in— it all sends him spiraling as he chases high after high after high.

shouto’s convinced he’s shooting blanks inside you at this point, cock beat and overstimulated, veins protruding from his biceps as the sweaty hold he has on the headboard only gets tighter. he’s uncharacteristically talkative in this state, too— stuttering and hiccupping on words that spew from his lips almost nonsensically, “b-baby, oh, god— so s-sensitive— you’re so fucking b-beautiful— h-hah, fuck—"

he continues to rut uncontrollably into your sopping cunny, unable to think straight— but he can tell he’s almost done for. his arms are trembling from holding up his weight for the past few hours, two-toned hair wet against his forehead and sweat dripping down his body onto yours. you’re spent too— he can sense it in the way your high-pitched whines of his name turn to incoherent babbles and how your hands fall limp from his back to grip at the silk sheets.

with one last push, he slows down his thrusts, angling them so that the head of his cock fits in between the opening of your cervix, thumb tiredly massaging circles into your near numb clit as you fall into a final orgasm.

your heels dig into his shoulder blades, not sure whether to pull him closer or push him away when you feel an unfamiliar hot streak rip through your abdomen and down your limbs, body breaking into trembles as your back arches off the bed and your hands weakly clasp at the edges of the pillow your head lay on, “f-feels funny, shou— ‘m gonna—!”

“‘s alright, b-baby—oh, f- fuck— m-me too,” and with a quick snap of his hips forward, shouto fills you to the hilt with his length, cock twitching frantically against your pulsating walls as he empties himself inside you one last time, teeth clenched to suppress a wanton groan when he feels a thick gush of your arousal spray all over his abdomen.

his limbs give out from under him, and he lowers himself down gently onto you before rolling over onto his back and cradling your head in the crook of his neck, his other hand on the small of your back to press your chest flush against his.

you feel each other’s heartbeats like this, and you share a tired laugh when shouto’s cock softens and slips out of you, the cum he’s plugged you up with slowly following suit as it leaks out onto the already soaked, taut skin of his tummy. you lay together in the remnants of your arousals, too blissed out to be bothered by the messiness of it all.

shouto speaks up first after he catches his breath, voice raspier than usual from overexerting it in the hours prior, “you had me worried, y’know… thought someone had broken in, or something.”

“‘m sorry…” you lay slow kisses over the expanse of his chest apologetically, shyly smiling when you realize he’s tracing hearts into your back with his finger, “i tried taking care of it myself, but it’s jus’ not the same without you.”

warmth floods his chest at your words, and he leans his head down to place his lips firmly on the crown of your head, “i’m glad you called— that was… amazing.”

“maybe i should get my co-worker to accidentally hit me with her lust quirk more often,” you smirk up at him mischievously, poking his cheek when he returns your look with fake incredulity.

“and keep me from doing hero work?”

“you would be doing hero work; rescuing a poor civilian who got hit with a lust quirk, helping them tough it out…”

he only responds with a cheeky hum as he glides his tongue over his top row of teeth, to which you scoff incredulously.

“what— would you rather i call someone else instead the next time this happens? what if i called baku—”

“alright, alright, i get it,” shouto interrupts you before you have a chance to finish your statement, laughing heartily as he wraps his arms around you tighter, almost protectively— and runs a heated finger up and down the groove of your spine.

you lay in comfortable silence a tad longer— watching the sun set and the moon rise, listening to the singing of the birds as it dwindles off into the chirps of the crickets.

shouto opens his mouth to ask about getting you cleaned up, only to shut it just as fast when he notices you passed out, little snores pushing past the part of your lips where drool dribbles onto his chest. he smiles down at you with adoration and stars dancing around in his eyes at how sweet— how innocent you look like this— his beautiful girl.

taking your hand in his, he brings it up to his lips to plant kisses over your palm and fingertips— silent vows of protecting you and keeping you out of harm’s way for as long as he lives. and then, his fingers find your hips, rubbing soothing circles over your slightly burnt skin from when he had branded you in the hours prior— a symbol of your love, and how you belonged to him and he belonged to you.

tags : @izu-fi @dekuphilia @koucaine @crybunnysimp @murr-supremacy @httphimitsu @yourlocalmoon-lover @flamefoxx @onyxsumi @haironi @lilkiwikiara @gratefulstranger @satoris-fingers @taijuwu @jolynegf @yougivemeglobalwarming @xforever-yoursx @rottenshroom @hirachan @prettybitchfatwitch @little-miss-chaoss @theferaldarling @babydollxa @getosbunny @msundefinedperfection @yex1298 @itachislut @fictitiouslover @sav-21 @aimingway @babietopia @urkittycat @entimbed @hyoika @atsumeii @katsoon @pan-cakez