#sub mha

Running a farm sure is difficult. You had to wake up early everyday and get lots of physical work done. Not only that, you also had to care for all of your hybrid animals, each with their own individual needs and problems. You did hire employees to help lessen your workload, but there were still things only the owner can solve. Like today, having to deal with the mystery of one of your best cows producing results atypical of him.

“Ahhn— ahnnghh~ ♡ mmHghff, n-not so roughhhh..!! T-too much too g-guuud ♥︎♡” He mewled, nails digging into his own thighs as he whimpered around the stretch. His knees were raised up to his chest and your cock already bottomed out inside him, causing him to kick his legs futilely. It’s been so long since he last had someone else play around with him in the hay like this. Just the tip alone was enough to make his eyes roll back, his mind all fuzzy with pleasure.

Now with the entire thing inside, his couldn’t hold back his voice anymore, “ahh.. ah—ahNgh, ha,,uuhNnh~ b-big, so biiig ♡ so deep~ h-hurts~!!♡♥︎♡” At this rate, he could swear you were fucking his stomach, reaching places he only gets to experience with you. No matter what he moaned out, he couldn’t fool no one with that big, stupid grin plastered across his face. “You are kind of pissing me off.” For some reason, you felt like you were being played by him. “Spread yourself wider.”

He did as you said, using his hands to hold his legs apart, faint red lines appearing from where he gripped too hard. The hay below was digging into his back and getting into his hair, yet he didn’t care one bit. He couldn’t think of anything but you right now, not when his lovely, favourite farm owner was personally showering him with so much love! You don’t even know how long he’s been waiting to get manhandled by you again.

And fuck, he wasn’t just imagining it, he could totally see the belly bulge apparing and disappearing from his lower abdomen with each thrust. “mhhHffgg~ r-right there, ahhNn～ I-I’ll do anything, so pleassee!! Ha-harder, more, gimme all of it~♥︎” Someday, he was going to make you snap. “Don’t get cocky. I wouldn’t be here fucking your desperate self if you weren’t acting like some bitch in heat.” You snapped at him. That’s right, you were supposed to investigate his milking problem, but the upper half and not his lower, stupid half.

It’s not like you didn’t try solving it in a civil manner first. At first all you did was asking if anything happened or if he felt sick, while he was using the milking machine as per procedure. He replied no to each and every one of the questions, yet only produced a quarter of what he usually did, so it’s understandable that you got concerned.

“Maybe… it’s because of the machine?” That cow hybrid suggested upon your inquiry, gently pulling the pumps off of himself and holding his squishy tits with both hands. It was obvious that these got bigger over the course of the last few days. “Are you saying we should try hand milking?” You wondered, and he nodded quickly. You even felt like his eyes lit up for a split second. So you decided to give it a shot, since you did start off in the traditional way first and just recently adapted the more modern method.

You then quickly proceeded with the experiment and began tracing your fingers around his areola. After a few circles, you pinched his nubs softly with two fingers, trying out the flow. Nothing much happened apart from the low, breathy gasps coming from the male, which was why you began pulling and twisting a little. But once you started doing that, he just immediately moaned out, “aAaHnngg~♥︎♡♥︎ mMhnnh— uHhn,, huUhmff ♡”

After having his nipples sucked by the machine for so long, they were already super sensitive. Then to have his favourite caretaker the one he really really liked ♡ hand milking him again? Who could blame him for getting hard! By then he was already leaking precum onto the hay below. Your fingers were just so skilful, so much more intimate and warm than any device could ever hope to replicate. He just adored having your hands on him. “G-gentle… nghhHgg, l-love it~~ mhmm~! ♥︎”

He glanced down at the spot between his legs, a small puddle of precum already forming there. “I-I can’t help it…! It feels too good when you touch them.” Seeing that the wrong part of him was getting milked dry, you felt this realisation clicking inside, “did you suggest the hand milking just to get off? Don’t you know I have other things that needs to be done too?” The boy stayed quiet for a bit, before smiling sheepishly, noticing your hands were still on his nipples, “nnhhGahhh-ahnn!!♡♡ ha-haaa,, maybe…?”

Needless to say you were at your wits end with him, which is what got you into your current situation. With you holding his waist while slamming your hips against his, lewd squelching sounds echoing through the barn. “You know, this is how you get real cows to produce milk. By breeding them.” You whispered, his walls squeezing your length all snuggly. “Will it work for you too? Though I’m starting to think you were faking it all for attention.”

The way you stared down at him gave him chills. Oh how he loved it when you frowned at the sight of him, your eyes focused on him only. His words were slurred as he babbled with his tongue lolled out, “n-noo, no..!! M’wasnt, i r-really couldnt~ nGhhn ♥︎” look at that, he was thoroughly enjoying himself, wasn’t he?

“So, you are telling me you didn’t see this coming?” He didn’t answer, but his body revealed everything you needed to know. “Cheeky bastard.” You sighed and pulled out until only the tip remained inside, before slamming it all back in, making him curl his toes. “GuuUhhGnn~♡♥︎♡ ah-HnnGh—!!“ His moans turned into a whine when you abruptly grabbed him by the chin, “Since you’ve got so much time on your hands, fix that milking problem.”

“Yuu are sho… mhmm..!!! sho mean…!” He gasped out while you were still squeezing his cheeks. His hands finally released his now bruised thighs and landed on his nipples, his legs wrapping around your waist. The spot where he gripped them before has been decorated with a bunch of red nail-indents. “Ha-haaahh~ like this?” You did let go of him the moment he fulfilled your command.

Unsurprisingly, he kept smirking while he rolled his nips between his digits, licking his lips as his own sweet milk flowed down his wrists. The entire barn smelled of sex and warm, fresh milk. “hey… isn’t this suuuuch a-ahh~ waste?” He brought one of his soiled hand up to his mouth and sucked his own fingers clean, sticking his tongue out afterwards, “you want to make money with this, no? Heh… nghh ♡ So we shouldn’t waste it…!”

He was actually hoping for you to touch him yourself again, but to his dismay, you instead handed him the pumps of the milking machine, forcing him to reapply them to his own chest. “You think I’m that stupid? I won’t fall for the same trick twice.” You raised his hips up a little, getting a better angle before pounding into him even deeper, with surprisingly quicker thrusts. “AhNghhn ♥︎♡ d-don’t stop, ahhh so guuud, too good mghhnnff, m’love you, love this, right t-there ♡♡♡!”

You were hitting his sweet spots with the accuracy of someone who knows how to play his body like an instrument. The way you abused all his favourite places, rolling your hips with each rut into his sloppy hole…? It was simply heavenly ♥︎ his moans bounced off the thin wooden walls of the stable, echoing back at him, though he didn’t care at all. He was getting the privilege of being fucked by you, why would he be ashamed of that~?

Even the low humming of the milking machine was like music to his ears, the soft pressure of the suction pumps constantly stimulating his chest. His body was like on fire. Wherever you touched, heat would blossom beneath his skin. His vision was swimming, brain melting from the absolutely overwhelming ecstasy. It was to be expected that he’d sooner or later reach his limit.

“I’m close… ah~ I’m c-close, hnNhh, gunna cum, m’cummin’~♥︎♡!!— ah, n-nooo!” Right before he could shoot it all out, you wrapped your hand around his neglected cock and pressed your thumb into his slit firmly, denying him his much anticipated climax, “don’t you dare cum before I do. I’m not done breeding you yet.” “Wa— n-no…! L-lemme cum, I wanna— ah, ahNhhhgg, uHHhn!!!”

With that being said, poor thing was forced to endure the ruined orgasm and deal with the consequences of his actions. Shudders coursed through his spine as he cried out with each thrust, pleading so, so so so sweetly for his release. But you stayed firm the whole time, saying you were only going to let go of his now weeping cock once you’ve emptied your load inside him.

This time, you were going to fill him up until he learns how to behave. It didn’t stop him from trying his shot by begging even more submissively though. “P-please… cum already… b-breed me, fill me♥︎ hnNgh, like you said…!! I-I can’t anymore, m’wanna cum, ahh please~♡♡♥︎”

Gradually, you approached your own limit. He’s been getting really good at squeezing around you, shaking his own hips in a poor attempt to speed things up. You took a glance at the machine, then back at him. It seems your little ‘breeding therapy’ bared fruits, there was so much more milk coming out of his tits now. It was filling the tanks up all nicely. The same couldnt be said about his face though. With tears, sweat and snot running down his chin, his eyes glazed over and pleasure-ridden— even his pupils turned into little hearts♥︎!

One of his hands was just shy of grabbing your wrist, the other one clutching at anything within reach. His body was shaking heavily, his breath hitching audibly when you suddenly quickened your pace and mumbled, “fuck… I’m close.” Shortly after you also finally let go of his swollen dick. The shade was an angry red as it leaked precum everywhere, twitching with a mind of it’s own as he whimpered, “y-yes, yes…!, finally, ah- ahnGhh I-i’ve been wa- ah— waiting, gonna cummm ♥︎♡♥︎ f-fuck me harder, Nghh~ deeper, fill me up with your babies ♡♥︎♡”

Soon enough, both of you tipped over the edge. With you filling him to the brim, making his belly distend even more, and him making a mess everywhere. His head thrown back, eyes rolling until only the whites remained, thick ropes of cum coming out of his still jerking cock, splattering everywhere. “MhHmghhn~~ ♡♥︎” he bit down on his inner cheek, tasting the metallic tang of blood on his tongue as he heaved heavily. Chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

You also took a moment to catch your breath, before pulling out of him with a quiet pop. The moment you left him empty and wanting, your cum began spilling from his entrance and dripped down his ass in an undeniably erotic display. His hole fluttered and clenched around nothing, small whines of residual bliss slipping past his lips from time to time. You couldnt help but chuckle at the debauched display, mocking him, “so that’s why you couldn’t produce any milk… it’s because you are such a slut that you need a dick to perform.”

After fixing yourself up until you were presentable again, you stuffed a plug vibrator inside him, to keep your seed trapped inside him. Then you turned it on to the max level alongside the pumping machine, since his breasts were carrying the milk from multiple weeks. This earned you a meek sob from the cow hybrid, but he was way too tired to even argue! All he could do was lay still while letting himself be milked like a good, obedient cow ♡

He still had so much more left until dry anyway, so it wouldn’t be a problem to set the timer to a few hours, no?

a shuddery moan slips out of him when you trace his nipple with just the tip of your tongue, using his own sensitivity against him. maybe he’d be able to compose himself better if you weren’t simultaneously playing with his chest and straddling his waist...

a rosy flush washes his pale chest with color and extends up his neck, reaching all the way to his cheekbones. “you hate to play f-fair, huh?”

“more than anything,” your teeth sink into the tender skin and you lift your head to see exactly what it does to him. god, what a fucking sight it is—his face crumples, almost as if he’s about to cry (you hope he does) or cream his boxers or both.

in tamaki’s head, wires are crossing as pain sizzles into pleasure. if he could find the words to describe what you’re making him feel, he’d end up expressing them in unintelligible mumbles or teary whines.

“do that again, please,” he manages to beg, arching into you. his chest pushes into your face, and his pelvis into yours—the briefest contact between your hips yields a loud keen from your feverish boyfriend.

tamaki, greedy as ever, reaches for your hips in an attempt to move you back and forth over his clothed cock. you shift away, about to remove yourself completely if he tries anything, and it finally clicks that you’re running this program, not him.

he fights to keep his jittery hips still, even as you return to hovering above him. “i need you to touch me.”

“aren’t i already touching you?”

“‘s not the same,” tamaki urges in a hushed voice, feeling the tears burn behind his eyes, “how am i supposed to finish just from this? i want more—”

this time, you roll his nipple between your fingers and bite down—your way of fixing his little attitude problem, so to speak. “you will,” your tongue laves over the stinging skin to soothe, “don’t worry about it. this is more than enough, tamaki.”

he can’t really argue with you, so he protests by ever so slightly pushing you into his chest. to make sure that both of his pecs are treated equally, you swap your fingers with your mouth and lavish the sore nipple with attention.

“baby,” tamaki breathes, hand finding its way to the nape of your neck, “i didn’t know it could—mmmh—feel this good..”

you ignore his commentary, though it sends a rush of heat through the lower half of your body. hearing those trembling breaths as his chest rises and falls is worth delaying your own pleasure for, although you have everything you could possibly need right here and now.

without warning, you begin to suck and tamaki startles, arching into you like he can’t get enough. he whimpers your name, pathetic as a puppy, and the tears he’d been holding back slip down his cheeks out of nowhere. it’s almost embarrassing for him to be crying because of his nipples, but his impending orgasm takes precedence over his qualms.

“just like that,” he chokes out, tasting the salt gathering at the corners of his lips. “shit, ‘m gonna end up making a mess..”

one second later, tamaki’s spilling in his underwear and mumbling sweet nonsense into your ear. his hips jerk in every direction, frantic for friction of any kind, and you shatter him with unexpected reciprocity. a wet spot darkens the front of his boxers, most likely staining the fabric through and through.

shoto liked going to your place. usually it was a calm, dimly lit room in your mansion for him to practice not getting too excited and how to pace his energy instead of overexerting himself in one go. you'd take him to the back courtyard to let him train with his quirks and then back to what had basically become his room to sit in and calm down without triggering his hybrid instincts on accident.

the bunny was adorable, and you had to admit he had a strong quirk--one of the strongest you'd seen. but, it was those damned bunny instincts that got him in trouble.

when one of the top heroes in the country called you up asking for one of his kids to be transferred into your care from his last trainer for something more "mature" than his teen trainer, you obviously agreed. it wasn't by declining requests from high profile heroes that got you this mansion after all.

you watched videos of the bunny, analyzing all his faults and weaknesses to be able to break them down. most of your hybrid clients eventually developed your mansion as a safe space for them. it was your job to break them out of their habits and then, as a reward, they were allowed to feed into them in your home when their training was over. shoto was just too cute though--you couldn't help but let him feed into it every now and then.

the trainer he had during his adolescence was shit, you decided. because, your poor bunny always failed to get his instincts in check while you were sparring with him. he'd use all his energy fast and get tired quickly, or (despite his stoic demeanour) he'd get too excited and then end up fucking up his move or use too much of his quirk. part of you questioned if he got any training at all despite the ones listed in his file.

you leaned against one of the pillars at the top of the staircase leading to your front doors, arms crossed as you watched the familiar limo pull up around the curve before parking directly in front of your home.

a smile tugged on your lips as you watched the hero, tall, strong, with one fluffy bunny ear white as snow and the other red as an apple step out of the vehicle.

shoto looked up as he got to his feet, giving you a small wave, and polite, "hi y/n," as he went to the back to get his bags.

you waved back, "hello shoto." your eyes travelled along his entire body, down each muscle and area he'd be training later. they lingered a little too long on his ass, that cute little tail wiggling as he picked up his second bag from the trunk. what a gorgeous little thing.

your hand slipped to the small of his back as he approached you, guiding him into the grand doors of your estate, "patrol was good? no issues? or injuries?"

shoto nodded, shook his head, then shook his head again with soft hums accompanying each like a good boy. he always answered your questions so nicely, his hands both in front of him as he carried his bags towards his room, your hand right there to lead him. but this time, he was more twitchy. you glanced at his tail, it hadn't stopped wagging since he got there.

now that you were looking at him, you started to notice blaring warning signs: flushed cheeks, ears that never seemed to settle, shaky hands, a glazed look in his eyes. oh, no fucking way. the stars must have aligned for you, because it seemed like endeavour had sent his precious, favourite son to your estate while in heat. and did that ever send heat down your own body.

as shoto walked into his room, you didn’t miss the way he hesitated when leaving your touch. he put his bags onto the bed, fidgeting with his hands instead of opening them, like there was something inside he didn’t want you seeing.

"shoto." you called from the doorway, voice firm.

the bunny immediately snapped his head to look at you, cheeks flushing further if that was possible as he saw the way you were staring at him like you already knew there was sex toys in his bag. ones he had grabbed on his way out before his dad could see him snatch them from the birthday gift bag mina had gifted them in. it was a half-joke, but he had felt so empty and needy since morning.

"y-yes?" he asked. oh, the poor thing was worse off than you thought. his neutral, quiet demeanour was already crumbling and you hadn't even done anything to him.

you took slow steps into the room--the proximity and your gaze that never left him causing shoto to pout, his bottom lip jutting out like a dirty bunny who knew it was about to get caught. when you stopped, only a few feet away from him, you reached a hand out to cover his on the bag. "are you in heat?"

that caused shoto to actually crumble. his tail twitched anxiously and he opened his mouth a few times without actually saying anything until he settled on, "yeah..."

"awww, poor baby... how come your daddy didn’t let you stay home for the week?" you cooed, your hand moving to thread soft fingers through his hair, gently scratching his ears. your teeth bit your bottom lip to stop the groan threatening to come out after hearing him whine.

"he said the training is too important to miss. a-and that i should learn how to fight properly during my heat too... he says it's an excuse." shoto answered, pushing his head into your hand as his body screamed for more touch from one of the only people he really trusted.

you frowned at that, you'd always known endeavour was a hardass, but forcing a hybrid (bunny no less) to train during his heat was cruel. before your mouth could voice your concerns, your eyes caught gaze at the bag he had been shamefully trying to avoid you seeing the insides of and your curiosity made it first. with a nod, you asked, "what's in the bag?"

todoroki became even redder if that was possible, his ears tucking over his face to hide himself. "just my hero costume." he mumbled so quiet you wondered if his heat was making him shrink into a bunny too.

"shoto." you tilted your head, watching him with a fond gaze. he wasn't subtle at all, but he was so embarrassed. if endeavour really did see heats as just an excuse for hybrids to get special treatment, maybe shoto wasn't used to actually treating his. without anymore patience in you to remain curious, you leaned closer to whisper, "you know, only dirty bunnies hide things."

now it was shoto's tongue being bitten as he held back a whimper. his hands were clasping each other between the two of you. and god, did your professionalism leave the second he walked through your doors--not that you ever had much for him to begin with. but, could anyone blame you? japan's most promising rookie hero was in your mansion once a week, sweaty, tired, cute, and occasionally with an involuntary hard-on. it was only natural you do something about it. and even if they did blame you, being a private trainer meant no boss could fire you for staring a little too long or touching a little too high. plus, you were too good at your job for anyone to stop coming.

one of your hands squeezed his as it rested atop of his bag, urging him to open it, while the other hand moved down to sit on his neck, pulling a little shiver from the bunny. "will you open it for me, shoto?"

your question, with your voice so low and smooth, made todoroki crumble. he had shame, of course, but you were also his trainer that he was supposed to obey. and dear god, did he ever want to obey you right now if it meant you'd keep touching his overheated skin.

he turned away from you, slowly unzipping the bag with shaky hands while his bunny ears gradually peeled away from his face just in time for you to see his bright red cheeks as the vibrating dildo came into view.

"i didn’t buy it for myself. mina got it as some joke for my birthday-" he started to immediately defend himself, not even daring to glance at your reaction for fear of you seeing him as nothing but a dirty bunny sneaking sex toys into your home.

"shh, it's okay. it's a good one. have you used it yet?" you asked calmly, voice so void of judgement it made his skin heat up further--and not from embarrassment this time.

somehow, answering that question made him feel more vulnerable than you seeing the toy itself. "no." he whispered, voice already breathy as his heat-addled mind provided images of your hands pushing it inside him.

shoto shook from the imaginary feelings of the vibrations pushing through his body. his stupid heat that his dad had brushed off that morning was making him whimper and lean closer to you with the whispered plea of, "can i?" like you were in charge of his pleasure, and fuck, did that do something to you.

"of course, sweetheart. you can use it alllll night." you replied, turning him around to make him face you in your arms again.

endeavour could be an asshole, you could hate him all you wanted for how bitchy he was during progress meetings, but you'd give him a million dollars as thanks for giving you his gorgeous son. his gorgeous son who was staring at your lips like he'd start crying if he couldn't kiss them soon.

"really?" he asked for confirmation. he couldn't believe someone was giving him space to experience his heat fully, and help him with it. when you nodded, your hands going to hold his pretty face, he lost the rest of his shame and leaned in, pressing his lips against yours like a desperate man.

the two of you kissed with the same feverish urgency by the time a few minutes passed. he tried to pull you to the bed, hands shaking half from hesitancy and half from desperation, but you prolonged his torture by making him stay standing with his lips on yours.

todoroki whined, uncertain fingers pulling at the fabric of your shirt and pants like he'd die if you didn’t fuck him soon, which--judging by the tent in his pants and the heat of his skin--you were starting to think he might.

that was how japan's most promising ended up on your lap, fucking himself hard and fast on your dick. he had skipped your fingers, begging you to fill him up with the big thing instead of making him work his way up. even though he should have been a tight little virgin, his hole easily accepted your intrusion, stretching around you with the slick he had practically been dripping. after immediately sitting flush against your hips, he began bouncing himself up and down without much coordination.

you groaned, hands gripping his hips to pull him down to a stop when he came for the second time. "alright, that's enough."

your mumble caused shoto to whine loud, the debauched noise tearing through the usually stoic hero. "no, no! please! please, i need more~." he begged, rolling his hips against you even as you tried to hold him still. his aching hole needed more fucking, he needed to feel you hitting his prostate more or he would go insane--he was sure of it. his ass dripped around your shaft from slick, rolling down to your thighs.

your hands tightened and you rolled him onto his back, hovering above him with your hands moving to his waist. shoto shook violently as he felt your cock slip out of his warm, welcoming hole. "y/n, please~..." he pleaded.

"baby, i'm still here. i just changed positions." you assured him as you slid back into his fluttering entrance, making the poor little bunny moan. "my poor bunny..."

todoroki whimpered as you cooed at him, his ears twitching while his tail tried to wag beneath him. "t-thank you." he moaned when you bottomed out, tip pressed right up against his bruised prostate.

"of course, sweetheart. you're too cute to say no to, i have half the mind to keep you here on a cute little leash." you replied, only half teasing as you began to slowly thrust into him, his hips wiggling back against you in an attempt to feel you deeper.

his eyes rolled back at your words. him, a rich, successful, strong hero, reduced to being your little bunny on a red leash and white collar. it brought him embarrassingly close to summing. he'd blame it on the heat in the morning, if he wasn't already in a collar tied to your bed frame by then. "please do that... just keep fucking me forever."

you were convinced he knew what he was doing. there was no doubt in your mind that somewhere in that heat-addled mind, todoroki knew he was saying the right things to make you thrust into him hard and fast until his back was arching off the bed. just to be mean, and make it clear you knew what he was up to, you reached a hand down and grasped the pink rabbit vibrator.

the sight of it made you chuckle, "rabbit for a bunny, huh? that's so slutty of you, cutie." you flicked on the toy, feeling it start vibrating in your hand.

as if knowing what was coming despite how foggy his brain was, shoto's body trembled in anticipation and fear for the impending pleasure. when you pressed it against his tip, he let out a scream, hands darting out to wrap around your shoulders and pull you flush against him. "t-too m-much..." he shook out, dick already leaking more precum despite having just orgasmed moments prior.

"oh, bunny..." you cooed, brushing the hair out of his sweaty face with your free hand while your other tormented his red dick with his toy. "i told you you could use it all night." you leaned in closer to whisper, "and we're gonna use it alllll night."

another squirt of cum hit your stomach, but the way his ass clenched around you, making sure you stayed inside, told you he wasn't done. even if he was starting to cry into your neck between nibbles and gentle sucking to your skin.

a/n: in celebration of receiving my first buy me a coffee, a post!! a return!! i missed you guys </3

tip jar :)

“What are you saying… that the Tentiplicity kidnapped you from the battle, shot you up with a quirk-stifling drug, but instead of killing you or holding you for ransom, she brought you home while you were unconscious and completely vulnerable, tended to your injuries, and then left without a word? Kacchan, that doesn’t make sense.” Izuku huffs into the phone, brows furrowed as he racks his gargantuan brain for a more feasible explanation than the one his friend is providing. 

“It’s the truth! What am I, a fuckin’ octopus expert? I can’t explain why she did what she did, I just know that she did ‘em! Stop fuckin’ questioning me.” The explosive blonde snarls. The few frantic octaves that Kacchan’s voice pitches up from his usual low rumble tell Izuku that he might not be getting the whole, unaltered truth. He’s known the blond long enough to pick up on when he’s spewing bullshit. 

“But why would she do that? Why would she just… let you go?” Izuku presses, pacing his bedroom as Kacchan groans in annoyance and frustration. “It doesn’t make sense for a villain of her caliber to get her hands on a pro-hero and then do… nothing.” 

“You callin’ me a fuckin’ liar or something?!” 

“No, no— of course not!” He sighs. No good could come from getting his short-tempered companion any more worked up than he already was, even if it was so obvious that he was keeping a few notes of information to himself. But what could he possibly be keeping from him? What could Tentiplicity have done to make Kacchan, of all people, keep his mouth shut? A few possibilities flood his mind, but they’re so absurd and outlandish that Izuku doesn’t bother entertaining them for more than a few seconds. “I’m just… trying to make sense of it…” 

He glanced at the time on his watch, brows furrowing when he saw it was eight o’clock. 

“But, Kacchan,” he murmurs, chuckling anxiously as he peeks outside his apartment window, “I already agreed to go to dinner with her and she’s picking me up any minute.” 

“You WHAT?! Dinner?! With Tentiplicity?! Are you out of your freaking mind?!” 

“I didn’t know she was Tentiplicity when I agreed!” Izuku sighs, brushing his fingers roughly through his messy curls. He glances at his reflection in the full-length mirror, taking in his tidied appearance: a crisp white button-up that is probably a size or two too small for his muscular body and a pair of sleek black dress pants that hug his upper thighs. They were both oversized when he was sixteen. Guess he packed on a bit of muscle in the past four years. “You’re giving me a bit of a late notice here, Kacchan. If I had known she was a villain, I would have—wait, that’s it!” Izuke gasps.

“I know exactly what you’re thinking because I’m always ahead of you in every way, but tell me anyway.” Kacchan sneers. 

“When will I get a more perfect opportunity to take down Tentiplicity, Kacchan? No other heroes have been able to get their hands on her because she is so under the radar. But she doesn’t know I know who she is, so I have the upper hand! I’ll use this ‘date’ as a guise to arrest her!” Izuku beams at his brilliant idea, newfound excitement flooding his chest at the prospect of taking down another high-profile villain. That would definitely get him some bonus points from All-Might. “I just have to wait for the timing to be right.” 

“Bad idea. Very bad idea. You need to cancel the date. You don’t know who you’re dealing with, Izuku. She’s crazy. A fuckin’ lunatic. Nothings off the table with that freakin’ octo-bitch.” Kacchan hisses, immediately shitting on Izuku’s plan. 

“Hey, it’s a good idea! Just because you couldn’t take her doesn’t mean I can’t.” He grumbles before pale yellow light floods his bedroom window from a car passing by outside. He flinches as his phone dings against his ear, your number flashing across his screen as you text him that you’ve just pulled up. Izuku’s heart thumps nervously against his rib cage. 

“Oh, I took her just fuckin’ fine,” Kacchan says in a low voice, but Izuku is too distracted by the fact that his villainous date is now, as is currently, waiting outside of his apartment complex to pay his friend’s words any mind. 

“Crap. She’s here.” He mutters, mostly to himself. “I’ve gotta go, Kacchan. Wish me luck!” 

“Don’t go on this fuckin’ date, you stupid little—!” Izuku hangs up the phone before the blond can finish insulting him and quickly tucks it in his pocket, scuttling over to straighten himself out in the mirror before making his way out of his apartment, making sure to grab his wallet from the kitchen counter. He might be planning to arrest his date at the end of the night, but first and foremost, he was a gentleman, and a gentleman always pays. 

There’s no denying his buzzing nerves as he steps out into the cool night air, a soft breeze caressing his cheeks that have only recently begun to shed their baby fat. There’s a sleek black car parked at the curb, purring softly. The windows are heavily tinted, but he assumes it must be you. Swallowing down his anxiety, he saunters up to the passenger side window and drums his knuckles gently against the opaque glass. 

The window peels open, and he’s greeted by your playful gaze and grinning lips. For a moment, he forgets you’re a villain. 

“Goddamn…” the word slips out in a breathless whisper, a hot pink blush flushing his cheeks when you giggle, the sound so lovely he thinks he might melt on the spot. No, stop it, he catches himself quickly, she’s a villain who hurts innocent people. Don’t get flustered by her appearance. 

“It’s good to see you again, too, handsome~” you flirt seamlessly, unlocking the door and watching as he timidly slides into the faux leather seat. 

Your eyes slide slowly over his figure, the swells of his chest that seem to strain against the thin fabric with every breath, the narrow curve of his waist hugged by the hem of his dark slacks, which squeeze the muscular flesh of his thighs. The sleeves of his too-tight button-up are rolled up to the junctures of his elbows, showcasing his scarred forearms. Not to mention the rather luxurious-looking gold and black watch wrapped securely around his slim wrist. If he notices your heated stare, he doesn’t mention it. 

Instead, Izuku clears his throat and smiles at you sheepishly. “S- Sorry. You look… really nice.” 

“No apologies necessary.” You wave off his concerns, casting him a look of bashfulness so sweet that it has Izuku second-guessing Kacchan’s claim that you’re capable of being a ruthless criminal. “I’m glad you agreed to come out to dinner with me. I was worried that I was being a little too forward.” 

“N- No! It wasn’t forward at all! I mean— it was forward but not too forward b–because I–I also wanted to… go out… with you.” Izuku sputters clumsily, mentally smacking himself across the face for getting so easily worked up. Your soft peals of laughter only make him feel more embarrassed, but he quickly clears his throat and straightens out his back, refusing to let himself look small in front of you. He is a hero after all. “So, I’m glad you asked me out. Is what I’m trying to say.” 

“You’re cute, Izuku~” you grin, shifting the car into drive and pulling out of the complex. 

Izuku watches his building vanish in the rear-view mirror and suddenly wishes he had insisted more on driving. He swallows back a wave of fresh nerves as he fully grasps his situation. Kacchan wouldn’t lie about you being a villain. Izuku trusts that wholeheartedly. So he knows for sure that he is currently sitting in the car with none other than the villainess Tentiplicity, pretending to be something that she’s not—a sweet, innocent girl. Even if you play the part well, he knows it’s just an act, a disguise. 

He can’t help but wonder why you would ask him out in the first place. You must know he’s a hero, especially considering his ranking on the hero billboard charts. The two of you have never directly fought before. He wasn’t even aware that you were involved with the group of villains trying to rob the bank vaults the other day when Kacchan vanished. You must’ve taken a more stealthy role in that operation, and then snagged the opportunity to take a hero hostage when the operation started falling apart.

But that brings him back to his earlier question: why did you return Katsuki unharmed without even holding him for ransom? It doesn’t make any sense. You must have taken him for a reason. Tentiplicity is cunning, calculating. There’s a reason heroes or authorities have never caught you. Tentiplicity is best known for her involvement in high-profile robberies, whether it be dangerous weapons, massive sums of money, or classified information. You’ve done it all. 

Since you’re a more stealth-oriented criminal, there isn’t too much information about you outside of the fact that you can produce tentacles from your body that can reach up to thirty feet in length. Although unconfirmed, there have been reports of your tentacles being able to produce a paralytic substance absorbed by human skin upon contact. 

It wouldn’t be difficult for you to slip a tentacle over the center console and touch him. The thought makes Izuku tense, cautious. He watches you from the corner of his eye, on high alert for any sudden movement you might make as you drive to the restaurant.

You had decided on one he was familiar with, a family-owned Italian place ten minutes or so from his complex. He knew the way there by heart, so he’d notice pretty quickly if you deviate from the route. It’s a small comfort, one he clings to as his nerves settle into an unpleasant itch beneath his skin. 

Timing. This is going to be all about getting the right timing. 

“So…” he clears his throat, “why did you ask me out?” 

“Curious?” You smirk. 

“A little…” he confesses. “I mean, it was pretty abrupt, you know?” 

“Honestly, it was kind of spur of the moment. I’m not usually that bold, but… god, something about those freckles. I just couldn’t help myself~” 

Something about your tone sends a shiver down Izuku’s spine. It’s different from the one you’ve been using— darker, richer. Is that your real voice? His toes curl in his dress shoes. When did his heart start beating so fast? He swallows a lungful of air, chest suddenly tight as his stomach swirls. Fear? Definitely. But, there’s something else, too. He can’t quite put his finger on it, and he’s not convinced he wants to. 

“You think I’m attractive,” Izuku says. The boldness with which the words slip from his own lips makes the hero blush. 

“Extremely.” You're shamelessly flirting with him now. It’s unfamiliar territory, being so blatantly come-on to. Enough so that he keeps his mouth shut the remainder of the drive. If there’s one skill Izuku is sub-par at, it’s flirting with pretty villains. 

As soon as the car is parked, Izuku scurries out to open your door for you, ever the gentleman. You purr your gratitude and link arms with the blushing hero, allowing him to lead you into the restaurant. He tries not to flinch at the way your blood red nails press into his bicep as the hostess guides the pair of you to a secluded booth in the back per your request and sets down two menus. The dim orange lighting feels strangely intimate as Izuku slides onto the vinyl cushion across from you. 

Acoustic guitar thrums through unseen speakers, weaving through the faint conversation of other patrons. Izuku can’t decide whether or not it’s to his advantage that the restaurant is rather crowded. But he doubts you’ll feel inclined to reveal yourself to a restaurant full of people, given your secretive reputation. 

“T- Thank you for helping Kacchan the other day,” Izuku says, cutting through the brief lull between you as you look over the drink options. “I was pretty worried when he suddenly went missing from our mission. I can’t imagine what must’ve happened. Where did you, um… find him, anyways?” He hopes it doesn’t come off too interrogation-y. But it seems you anticipated such questions. That, or you're a phenomenal on-the-spot liar. Either seems plausible. 

“It was pure luck, really,” you don’t look up from the menu as you speak. “He was just lying there, unconscious in the middle of the street. I honestly thought he was dead for a few seconds. He must’ve gotten hit pretty hard to get knocked out like that.” 

Izuku wonders if he’s just imagining the subtle rise of your cheeks, the faint smirk in your voice. “Right. Very lucky.” He nods like he believes the words coming out of your mouth, drumming his fingers over the cover of his own unopened menu. “I wonder how he got there. On the street, I mean. We were in the basement of that old bank on 5th Ave when we got separated.” 

You still don’t look up, voice taking on a bored edge. “That is strange, isn’t it?” Izuku opens his mouth, intending to keep pressing, but flinches in mild surprise when you abruptly snap your menu shut and lay it down on the table before leaning forward on your elbows, propping your chin on interlaced fingers. “Hey, Izuku. Can I ask you a question?” 

The look in your eyes is different, he realizes. Sharper. Darker. Almost… predatory. 

A nervous laugh hiccups from his throat. “You just did,” he jokes lamely, clearing his throat at your responding blank stare. “I, uh… Yeah. Yes. Go ahead.” 

The air shifts, suddenly heavy. 

“What are your thoughts on calamari?” 

Goosebumps prickled across Izuku’s arm, anticipation spreading beneath his skin like an uncomfortable itch. “Personally? I prefer katsudon.” 

You kiss your teeth in disappointment. “That’s a shame.” 

Izuku doesn’t hesitate. Black whip spears out from his knuckles beneath the table, the serpentine, black tendrils winding tightly around your legs and waist, effectively restraining you. But you don’t flinch, not even a little. 

The smug look on your face transforms into a mocking pout. “Oh? Are we done playing pretend already? But I haven’t even ordered my wine yet.” 

It’s jarring. Just how quickly you drop the nice girl act. Everything about your pretend demeanor simply falls away, revealing the dangerous nature lurking beneath the gilded mask. Your presence seems to swell, not literally, but in some unfathomable way that fills the space around you, like some kind of dark aura. It is probably considered bad form to restrain and arrest your date before the appetizers come out, but Izuku decides he can make an exception just this once.

“Tentaplicity,” Izuku starts, voice firm and low as he glares across the table, tightening black whip’s grip around you. “You are under arrest for crimes against the country of Japan, including robbery, trespassing, espionage—” 

A sharp peel of laughter cuts him off, your suddenly blazing eyes flaring with amusement. “Now you’re just getting ahead of yourself, don’t you think, Izuku? You’re going to spoil all of my fun,” you croon, clicking your tongue. “And you were being such a good boy, too. I’m feeling strangely disappointed.” 

Annoyance curls at the corners of Izuku’s mouth. You weren’t taking him seriously at all. In fact, you seem entirely unaffected by the fact that he currently has you bound with his quirk. Your indifference nicks the hero’s ego a bit, confidence wavering. “This is the end of the line, Tentaplicity. You’re going to prison. It’s over.” 

“Oh, is that right?” Condescension drips from your tongue, thick and saccharine as raw honey. 

Heat seeps across the back of Izuku’s neck. “Yes.” He says in a huff, moving like he’s about to stand. Until he feels something slick and warm creeping up his pant leg, and freezes instead. 

You smile at him innocently. “Sit down, Izuku. Unless you want me to bring this entire restaurant down with all of these innocent civilians inside of it.” 

The threat makes Izuku’s body go rigid. Shit. He made a mistake. He glances down towards his leg, where a sleek purple tentacle curls around his calf.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

How could he have been so careless? Assuming those damn tentacles wouldn’t be able to slip out when he had you restrained. He had no idea of the full extent of your abilities or if those rumors of paralytic substances were true. If they were, this could be checkmate. 

A whispered curse slips from Izuku’s mouth as he slowly sits back down, jaw clenching irritably. 

“That’s it. Such a good listener.” The praise only makes him scowl harder, rousing a mirthful grin across your face. “Izuku, I really do like you. I wasn’t lying before, about finding you attractive.” 

Red blossoms across the hero’s face despite his best efforts to will it away. He hates how his body responds to the beautiful villain’s empty flattery, hates how it heats him from the inside out like something molten, pooling in his lower belly and spreading through his veins—wait. Wait, no. This feeling… It’s not from the flattery. No way. It’s something else entirely.

His scarred hands flex into tight fists where they sit on his thighs, his gaze dropping to discover that his too-tight dress pants are tight for a wholly new and unexpected reason. 

“Wha— why am I—?” 

“Hard?” You interrupt, simpering as your tentacle trails further up his leg until it's slithering over his knee. 

Izuku jolts and folds forward, slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle a jagged moan. He’s so confused. What the hell is happening inside of him? Why does he feel so… so fucking horny? 

“I’ll tell you what, Izuku,” you lean over the table as the grip of his black whip slackens around you. “I’ll leave everyone here alone if you walk outside with me right now. What do you think? A pretty reasonable deal, right? No one has to get hurt. And I’ll tell you alllll about my quirk. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Hm, Izuku?” 

Every time you say his name, Izuku finds himself that much closer to coming undone right then and there. His body is a live wire, every nerve ending crackling with white hot electricity. It’s like he’s under siege by some invisible force eating away at the edges of his sanity. He can’t remember the last time he felt heat like this. Maybe he never has. He’s not thinking straight. 

That’s probably why his head bobs all on its own, and his traitorous mouth opens, husking out a breathless, “okay.”

The tentacle retreats from his leg, but that hot, hazy feeling remains. His knees wobble beneath him when he stands, weak and unstable. You loop an arm around him to support his unsteady weight and tug him tight against your side. He leans into you without a fight and allows you to guide him out of the restaurant, much to your waitress’s dismay. You placate her with a smooth lie about him suddenly feeling ill, his flushed face and unfocused gaze a convincing testament to the falsity.  

By the time you step into the cool night air, Izuku is coming back to himself, bit by bit. His back slumps against the rough stone of the exterior wall once you round a corner to a secluded side of the building, dropping onto his ass as he fights to catch his breath. 

“Geez, I barely used my quirk, and you’re already this weak? Sensitive little thing. I guess I’ll have to be gentler with you.” You muse, eyeing him with a lazy smirk.

He stares up at you from the floor. “Y– your quirk… you excrete… an aphrodisiac-like substance from your tentacles that s–stimulates the nervous s–system, inducing pleasurable sensations in people you touch,” he whispers, his lust-fogged brain working a mile a minute. Shamefully, he wishes he had his notebook on him to write it all down. 

Your brows lift, amusement glinting in your eyes. “Quick one, aren’t you?” 

“Just… observant.” 

“And modest to boot,” your gaze rakes over him, finding the hero cuter and more fascinating by the second. Even in the shadowed alley, those big, round eyes like mossy pools of green sparkle up at you with unrestrained curiosity. It’s almost flattering. 

What a strange boy.

“Is that—is that what you did to Kacchan?” 

You smile. “You really want to know? What I did to Kacchan?” Your voice curls as a faint, violet glow pulses from behind you, a pair of twin tentacles slithering into view. The sight of them steals the breath from Izuku’s chest. “I can show you if you like.” 

Izuku swallows the saliva filling his mouth as the otherworldly appendages extend towards him. Against his better judgment, he reaches out, sliding a rough palm over one of the smooth, coiling limbs. It’s almost glossy in texture and appearance, just slightly translucent, like blown glass fresh from the furnace. The pro hero gasps as the tapered tip coils around his arm, squeezing gently, the other creeping up his clothed thigh. That feeling from before returns, gentler now, less all-consuming, a faint thrumming warmth just beneath his skin. 

“Oh,” he gasps. His knees press together and draw up towards his chest, but the tentacles coil around each of his ankles, roughly yanking his legs apart, damn near sending him sprawling across the stone sidewalk below. “Ah! H– hey!” 

“Shh, puppy. Don’t wanna make a scene now, do we?” You move forward with startling swiftness, feet planted on either side of Izuku’s thighs, and he has to crane his neck back to look up at you. He nearly chokes on his tongue when your dress shifts, and he catches a flash of black underwear. Instinctively, he looks away, but a tight fist in his mossy curls forces his attention back to you. “Eyes on me.” 

Your tone demands obedience.

And, in spite of himself, of everything he knows about just how dangerous you are, he finds himself obeying. He’s not sure why, but he gets the feeling you won’t hurt him. You didn't hurt Kacchan. Not technically. 

“Good boy,” you hum, caressing his head. “Look at that pretty face. Bet it would look even better between my thighs.” 

Izuku’s breath catches in his throat. Between… your thighs? 

“Why do you look so scared? Fuck, don’t tell me you’ve never eaten someone out before.” The laughter in your words makes Izuku blush hotly, his responding silence speaking volumes. It’s not a far leap to assume the poor boy is a virgin. The thought that he’s never been properly touched makes you coo at him. “So puppy needs some training, is that it?” 

The hero’s chest practically vibrates with each rapid thud of his heart. He can’t believe this is really happening. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t eager to learn. To touch, to taste. You’re just too fucking pretty. It’s driving him to the brink of insanity. Maybe that’s why he shyly leans forward, nuzzling at the inside of your thigh, kissing the warm flesh with trembling lips. “Yeah…” he murmurs huskily. “Can I?” 

Oh, how precious. 

“How can I say no when you ask so sweetly?” You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. Is this really the same hero who was ready to haul you off to jail a few moments ago? 

Thick eyelashes kiss the top of his cheeks as he gently closes his lips over your cotton clad heat, sucking so softly, so unsurely, that it coaxes a scoff from you. He opens up and drags the flat of his pink tongue slowly over the soft, thin fabric, slicking it with warm saliva. He can just barely taste you through it, but the scent of you alone is enough to draw a husky moan from somewhere low in his throat as he makes out with your clothes slit. The soft vibrations send a shudder rippling up your spine. 

“Not too bad for a virgin,” you taunt, reaching down the slip the crotch of your underwear to the side, exposing the glistening flesh beneath to the hero kneeling before you. 

Izuku’s body seems to seize up, breath caught behind his teeth as he stares wide eyed at your plush cunt.

How can you be pretty down there, too? How can someone be so fucking beautiful? It’s unfair. He never stood a chance. He was fucked from the moment he laid eyes on you. It didn’t matter that you were a villain, not in that moment, at least. Not when he wanted you in such a visceral, bone-deep way. So severely that his very marrow seemed to sing with its need for you. He can’t tell if everything he’s feeling is just a symptom of your quirk, but honestly, he doesn’t really care. 

He’s ravenous. And you’ve just presented him with a plate of the sweetest ambrosia.

 “C’mon. Give it a proper taste.” 

The sound of your voice snaps him out of his trance, and he looks up at you, only then realizing that a thick puddle of saliva has pooled in his mouth, the tiniest bit of drool escaping the corner. He doesn’t bother swallowing. Because he suddenly remembers Kirishima telling him one time, “the wetter, the better.” 

A ragged gasp rips from your chest as Izuku attaches his sloppy mouth to your bare slit, lapping and slurping at you like a man starved. He more than makes up for his lack of technique with sheer enthusiasm.

Rough, calloused hands squeeze the flesh of your thighs, dull nails biting crescents. Yours burrow into his thick curls, pulling him closer, a silent urging for more. And he gets the message loud and clear.

Whether he intends to or not, his nose ends up circling your clit as he feasts on you, stimulating the little but incessantly. Gasping, your hips arch towards his mouth, pleasure rippling down your spine. 

“You like it? Is it yummy, puppy?” You coo, grinning down at him wickedly as your fingers card through his hair, tugging every so often.

“Mhm. Thank you—thank you. So good, tastes so good,” he babbles against your hot skin, not even bothering to pull away to speak, unable and unwilling to detach from his new favorite flavor: a subtle, almost coppery tang of bitterness entrapped within honeyed tendrils of sweetness that explode across his taste buds.

A sloppy concoction of your slick and his spit leaks from the corners of his eager mouth and spills down the length of his pale throat, but he couldn’t care less about the mess he’s making. 

Izuku is so absorbed in eating you out that he doesn’t notice the tentacles slipping towards him. Not until one squirms into the confines of his dress pants and slick heat engulfs his rigid dick, squeezing and pulsing around him in such a way that he can only let out a startled yelp before his body bucks and a searing load saturates his slacks. 

You let out a scoffing laugh. “Seriously? That quick? We’ll have to work on your self-control, puppy.” You click your tongue in feigned disappointment, and Izuku flushes red, tears of embarrassment wetting his eyes. 

“Y– you caught me off guard…” he glares up at you weakly, squeaking when the tentacle’s grip tightens around him once more. Oversensitivity ricochets through him, and he grabs at the slick appendage in a fruitless bid for control.. “Ah! Wait—!”

“Did I tell you you could stop?” You sneer, dragging his face back between your thighs. “Keep eating.” 

The hero whimpers helplessly, his body squirming as he’s dragged towards a second orgasm within the span of a few seconds. But he obeys like the good boy he is and resumes lapping at you, muffling his moans and whines in the soft flesh of your cunt. The sounds vibrate against your clit, sparks of electricity making the muscles of your thighs tighten. You hitch one over his shoulder, your heel digging into his lower back, watching as it arches beneath the gentle pressure. 

Dangerous inspiration curls in the back of your mind.

There’s no time to brace himself before Izuku feels a distinctive caress against the base of his spine. A caress that slips lower. And lower.

He breaks away from your heat for the second time, much to your utter distaste, gasping into the cool night air as his head whirls around, eyes bulging at the sight of one of your tentacles disappearing down the back of his pants. 

“Wait, no—” any protests wither and die on his lips when he feels pressure. Warm and wet, almost like he’s being licked at. No, exactly like he’s being licked at. Embarrassment and blood-heating pleasure set upon him, the two conflicting emotions giving him whiplash. “I– hold on—” words fail him. Displaced by devastatingly beautiful sounds of euphoria. Against his will his body presses back, hips grinding against the tentacle currently teasing his hole before jerking forward to fuck into the one gripping his cock. Stimulation ravages him from both ends.  “Coming, coming, coming.” 

“Again? Jesus Christ,” you grip his jaw, forcing his head up and back to get a proper look at his sinful expression. Eyes rolling, mouth drooling, skin pink and perspiring. It’s fucking pathetic how sensitive he is to even the slightest titillation. “That dick of yours is a fucking fountain. Seriously, how many rounds do you have in you?” You pause at your own question and grin. “Should we find out?” 

The threat (or promise?) of being made to cum until he physically couldn’t anymore both terrified and electrified Izuku. His mind and body can barely handle this much, and now you want to milk him dry? No. No, he couldn’t. He’d die. No fucking—

“Yeah.” 

Fuck. 

“Mm, I knew you’d like that. Boys like you always do. Going around pretending you're not aching to get those pretty little brains of your fucked out.” The taunting makes Izuku writhe, impatience licking at his every nerve. “Lucky for you, I’m not so easy to fool.” 

Izuku nods stupidly, ready to agree with just about anything you say if it means you’ll keep making him feel like this. Like nothing else in the world exists.

Scarred hands surge forward to clutch at your thighs when the pressure on his hole turns breaching. And god, does he open up around you ever so deliciously.

He’s cumming for a third time by the time the first three inches are inside, shuddering and whining a broken version of your villain name as the dark spot on the front of his dress pants spreads. His tight walls squeeze tight around your alien appendage, clinging desperately like his body is trying to suck you in. 

A soft moan flutters from your lips, and Izuku nearly cums again from the sound alone. So pretty. So fucking pretty. He wants to hear more. 

His warm mouth is back on you in the next second, desperately searching for the spot that makes you tick. He finds it with a careful swipe of his tongue through your slick folds, a small bud at the very top that earns him a shuddered gasp. He doesn’t miss a beat before he’s latching on and sucking, eliciting more and more of those beautiful reactions that make molten heat pool in his belly. 

The tentacle inside of him suddenly curls, drilling into his own sensitive bundle of nerves like a damn homing missile. If he hadn’t been holding onto you so tightly, he would have collapsed onto the stone below, a dumb little fuck toy eager to take whatever you’re willing to give him.

But at his core, Izuku is a giver.

And he is going to give as good as he’s getting if it fucking kills him, even if it means suffocating himself in the warm wetness of your twitching cunt. Which, honestly, doesn’t seem like a bad way to go. 

“That’s it, puppy, right there,” you whisper, gasping softly at the dual pleasure currently blazing through your blood and overwhelming your senses. The tentacle fucking Izuku speeds up, pounding into his ass so brutally that you can feel every sharp jerk of his body giving beneath the force. Every whimper and moan resonates through your clit, and all at once your release is surging over you. “Right there—!” 

Izuku sobs with delight at the first gush you bestow upon him, splattering messily across his blissed out face. The tension in his own gut snaps violently once more at the knowledge alone that he was able to bring you to that edge.

“Fuck, enough,” you hiss, grabbing his hair and forcefully dragging him off of your pulsing cunt when he refuses to do so on his own. 

He whines with disappointment, peering up at you with unfocused, lust-drunk eyes, swollen lips, and flushed skin glistening with your essence. You scoff slightly, swiping a thumb over his slick chin before pressing it into his mouth. He’s more than happy to oblige to the silent command, sucking the taste of you from the digit with a hoarse moan. 

“You’re so pathetic that it’s almost cute.” You slide your leg off his shoulder, the movement followed by a wet pop as you slide your tentacle out of his fluttering heat, much to the hero’s dismay.

“W- was that good?” He asks shakily, licking his lips as he watches you straighten yourself out. You raise a brow, amusement dancing across your face. You should have guessed that he’s the type to need reassurances. Those big green eyes were practically begging for praise.

So you hum and stroke his hair with all the tenderness you can afford. “Isn’t it obvious?” Izuku blushes when you gesture towards the mess between your thighs. The very mess he’d created. 

Swallowing, he hesitates before pressing a soft kiss to the skin just above your knee, an almost reverent gesture. “For me, too. I liked it. A lot.” 

“That was obvious, too.” He yelps when your tentacle gives his spent cock one final squeeze before slipping away, leaving him to soften in his cum-soaked slacks. “I could eat you alive, I swear.”

Between your soft chuckles and his responding whine, you almost miss it. A soft sound from the entrance of the alley, something like the sharp intake of breath. Almost. 

Both of your eyes snap over, locking onto the silhouette of a man, rigid with shock at the scene before him. 

Izuku blanches. Not only were they caught, but he’d have to be an idiot not to recognize that distinctive dichromatic hair, even in the dull shadows of the alley. 

“T-Todoroki, it’s not—” Izuku splutters, words catching in his throat and shattering. 

You barely manage to rear back before a wall of ice spears through the space between you and Izuku. Cold breath hisses from the glacial barricade and kisses your face. 

A voice, colder than the ice before you, rasps from the man. “Midoriya, run.” 

Heat like a blazing inferno roars, red flames snap violent jaws and force you back, but you’re too slow. You slam your teeth down on your lip to muffle a sound of distress as one of your tentacles is singed. Fuck, that was hot. Irritation nips at you.

“I guess I’ll have to cut this play session short.” In the span of a second, your tentacles erupt from you, extending into the sky and finding purchase on the roof of a nearby building. You meet Izuku’s gaze once more and shoot him a salacious wink. 

“Tenta—” Izuku starts, but you’re already shooting into the air in a blur of luminescent violet. Graceful and brutal and powerful. The moonlight caresses your silhouette like a yearning lover before you vanish into the dark maze of buildings. To his embarrassment, his exhausted dick manages a weak twitch. He drops his head into his palms, laughing in disbelief as everything that just happened rushes back over him. “Shit. I must be out of my mind…”

“Midoriya!” Any agonizing he could do over his little… escapade with one of the city’s most notorious villains is abruptly cut short as Shoto comes rushing over, heterochromatic eyes wide with concern. “Are you okay?”

Izuku’s hands fly to cover the dark stain on his crotch, a crimson flush consuming his face. “I’m fine!” He says too quickly and clears his throat. “I’m fine.”

Shoto lets out a breath of relief, the tension in his shoulders deflating. “That was Tentaplicity, wasn’t it? Those tentacles…” he trails off, looking skyward as Izuku pushes himself up onto shaky legs, hands clasped deliberately in front of him. “I knew she was a villain, but… I didn’t realize she was a cannibal, too.” 

“Yeah, I— wait,” the green-haired hero sputters. “Cannibal? What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Well, she said she could eat you alive,” Shoto said in all seriousness, brows furrowed in concern. “I was really worried.”

Silence stretches between the two boys. Izuku breaks it with a snort. “No, that’s not—” he shakes his head and grins. “Ah, whatever. Thank you, Shoto. You seriously saved my a—um, me.” 

It’s not exactly priority number one to divulge the fact that he had very little interest in being saved. None at all, actually. He would have gladly stayed between your thighs, stuffed full for the rest of the night if you had allowed it. 

His ass throbs as he slumps into the passenger seat of Shoto’s car after the other man offers him a ride home. He’s grateful, since he’s not sure he’s up for the hour-long walk back to his place in his current state considering his original ride slung into the sky and hauled ass like Doctor Otto Octavius. He’s grateful that Shoto doesn’t ask questions about his disheveled state and sudden limp, probably assuming they stemmed from a fight with Tentaplicity. 

A soft buzz in his pocket makes Izuku flinch. With eager, fumbling hands, he quickly pulls it out and stares at the screen wide-eyed, trying to process what he’s reading. 

Sorry about our date ending so abruptly ;( I was really hoping to spend more time with you, shame we were interrupted by that pretty boy with the two-tone hair. Friend of yours? Maybe he can join us during our next playtime. 

xoxo,