Welcome To The Madness, Enter At Your Own Risk

“So, how are you? I didn’t get to talk to you much tonight.” You nod, tight lipped.

“Yeah. I'm good.” Silence ensues, before you both try speaking at the same time. He gestures for you to go first.

“I should go. Long day ahead of me tomorrow.” You step forward, but he doesn’t budge from where he stands in front of the door.

“Why do you hate me?” You look up, finding the bright green of his eyes stifling. You rip your eyes away looking at the window instead.

“What? I-I don’t hate you.” He rolls his eyes, taking a step forward.

“You have since high school. I just can’t figure out why. What did I do to you?” You take a step back, giving yourself some space.

“Nothing.” You make the mistake of glancing up at him again. You find that same analyzing gaze that cuts right through the facade you’ve made for yourself. 

“Sure.” You stand in silence for a few seconds. He takes a step forward. You take one back. All of a sudden the air is suffocating. 

“Y’know, if you want me all you have to do is ask.” Your eyes shoot up to his face. You furrow your eyebrows, irritated beyond belief.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The way you try so hard to stay away from me. It’s obvious what you want.” Another step forward. You take one back, finding yourself stuck between his couch and him. You swallow hard.

“That’s ridiculous. That might’ve been the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, Midoriya.” 

“Izuku.” He corrects. “You’ve known me long enough, I think it’s time you drop the formalities.” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“We’ve never been close.”

“Yeah, because you have a hard time admitting what you feel. What you actually feel.” He begins walking closer, closing the distance between you.

“Not the mean girl act you put on when you’re around me. What you feel deep down, that you’re so ashamed of.” He looks down at you now. Your heart is beating out of your chest like crazy. You feel trapped underneath his hard stare.

“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I like you, Midoriya.” You say his last name again, tauntingly. He chuckles lightly, bowing his head for just a second. When he locks eyes with you again, it’s like a switch has flipped.

“So, you don’t avoid me at every gathering? You don’t bolt away the second I try to talk to you? You don’t stare at me longingly across the room, and look away when I look at you?” He leans in close now, his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip. 

“Right now, your heart is beating out of your chest, your pupils are dilated, and your breathing is uneven. So, you tell me what that means?” When he leans in closer, you panic, pushing him away. He clearly wasn’t expecting it with how far he goes. You dart around him, running out of his door and sprinting to the elevator. Just as the doors open, you see him duck his head out of his apartment door. He doesn’t chase, he just watches as you slip into the elevator, jamming your finger against the close door button. 

He was right, your heart is racing, and you can’t seem to catch your breath. You bend over, hand to your heart, trying to calm yourself. You don’t feel calm until you’ve made it back to your apartment and locked the door behind yourself. That was weird. It was like he became a whole different person. Maybe that’s why you hate him, because he acts all nice, but deep down there’s a darker side to him. One that inexplicably has your bottom half pulsating. You try your hardest to ignore it, you really do. But even in sleep, the memory of him finds you. 

Two weeks go by. Two whole weeks of avoiding your friends, and a certain someone, with all of your might. You stay late at work on multiple occasions, and cite that for the reason you’re so tired all the time. And for a while it works. That is until one Saturday afternoon, where Mina shows up to your place and begs you to come out that night. She says it’s just some of the girls and that gives you a little relief. 

If she sees how you relax when she says that, she doesn’t say anything. You put on a skimpy dress and prepare to get wasted with your girls. And you go a little past wasted. So much so, that you have no idea how you ended up in a strange bed the next morning. One that becomes more familiar when you see the nerd wall.

You jump up, going to look at yourself in the wall mounted mirror. You find yourself, in one of his t-shirts with your makeup smudged. You storm out into the living room, demanding answers from a certain green-haired freak. You find him sound asleep on the couch, so you throw a pillow at him. He jolts awake, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“What the hell am I doing here?” You cross your arms, fuming.

“Good morning to you too.” He sits up, and the blanket slips down his body. It reveals his bare chest dusted with hair and dotted all over with freckles. When you meet his eyes, he smiles knowingly. 

“Why am I here, Midoriya.”

“I-zu-ku. My name’s not that hard.”

“Answer the damn question. Did you fucking kidnap me last night?” At this, his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“You called me.”

“Bullshit.” 

“You did. Check your call log.” You stand there for a moment, contemplating, before your curiosity gets the better of you. You run back to his room, grabbing your phone from his night stand. Sure enough, you see three separate calls to him and him only last night. What the fuck was your drunk brain thinking?

“See?” You jump, startled. When you turn, you find him leaning up against the doorway. You momentarily lose your focus at the way his stupid comic book pajama pants rest low on his hips. His v-line is defined, and the trail of hair dipping below the waistband only serves as a further distraction. He clears his throat. Your eyes shoot up to his face, finding that same stupid smirk you hate plastered there.

“Whatever. Where are my clothes? I wanna leave.” You push past him, moving down the hall to his laundry room. You find your dress, and push past him once again as he tries to block the doorway.

“I can’t even get a thank you?” He calls out to you. You turn around, finding him already closer. 

“Did you change me last night? And into one of your shirts no less? I know you’re obsessed with me, but that does not give you the right to violate my privacy.” 

“You asked me! You called me, begging to come get you. And so I do. Even though you’ve been a shitty friend to me for years, I drove 40 minutes from my apartment to come get you. I tried to take you home, but you wouldn’t tell me where your apartment was, so I had no choice but to bring you back here.” He pauses, stepping closer. 

“And no, I didn’t change you. You did that all on your own. And then you fell asleep nuzzling your face into my pillow, so you tell me who’s obsessed?” He closes the miniscule distance left between you two. His hand comes up to cup your face, thumbing your bottom lip once again. 

“From where I’m standing, it looks like you’re infatuated with me, and you’ve blamed it on me for years.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, driving you crazy. 

“You hate that you want me so bad. And instead of asking for what you want like a big girl, you walk around bitching and moaning about me.” Your head reels back, and you smack his hand away from you.

“I’m not a bitch. You’re just a fucking weirdo.” He sits on the arm of his couch, chuckling.

“A weirdo you’re in love with.” You close the gap, standing over him.

“Stop fucking saying that.” He grabs your wrist, yanking you down to be eye level with him.

“Or what?” You stare into his eyes, only finding his unrelenting gaze. He releases you abruptly, causing you to stumble backwards. He stands, going into his kitchen to make coffee.

“If you have nothing to say to me, you can go.” He says with his back turned to you. You bundle up all of your things, slamming the door behind you as you go. You make it to the elevator, even pressing the button, before you turn back to look at his apartment door. This time it stays closed, and for whatever reason, that bothers you. It bothers you so much that when the elevator doors open, you don’t get on. You stomp down the hall once again, banging on his door. All confidence leaves you when he opens the door. He leans against it with an expression that screams indifference. Like he just doesn’t care anymore.

“Did you forget something?”

“You like me?” He scratches at his brow, irritation evident in his posture.

“I think you know the answer to that. The real question is whether or not you’re ready to admit those feelings are reciprocated.” You swallow thickly, glancing into his apartment behind him. He opens the door, allowing you in once again. You set your stuff down, staring back at him. You don’t know why this mask of indifference bothers you so much, but it crawls under your skin. You feel like you can’t breathe. He leans against the door, and you stand against the arm of the couch. 

“I do like you.” You look down, fidgeting with your fingers as you say it. He stalks towards you like a predator moving in on its prey. You swallow hard, and he tips your chin up; your mouth mere centimeters from his mouth. 

He leans down and you think this is the moment it finally happens. Your stomach flips over, tying itself in knots. He doesn’t kiss you though. He whispers against the shell of your ear.

“Still waiting for an apology.” You reel back, looking up at him with incredulity. 

“Apologize? For what?” 

“Gee I don’t know, maybe for the years of believing you hated me. Or the many times you bitched at me, including but not limited to, five minutes ago.” When he looks down at you, only finding defiance, he pulls back. He sighs deeply, attempting to step away from you. You grab his arm pulling him back.

“I’m sorry!” You blurt out. He squints at you, signaling that he wants more.

“I’m sorry for being mean to you. And constantly bitching.” He steps back in front of you, his deft fingers wrapping around the column of your throat. Not enough to hurt, but enough to accelerate the beating of your heart. 

“And from now on you’ll be?” You swallow thickly, forcing yourself to keep eye contact.

“Better?” You guess.

“Good. Tell me you’ll be good, and I’ll give you what you want.” You lick your lips, suddenly finding your mouth impossibly dry. Izuku tracks the movement, pupils dilating. 

“I’ll be good. Promise.” In an instant, he pulls you against his mouth, claiming you. His tongue dips in, exploring every inch of you deeply. You moan sharply, resting your palms on his chest. He burns hot, like a furnace. He takes your hands, wrapping them around his neck, before he picks you up. He carries you back to his bedroom, laying you down on the mattress. Despite the way his body is charged with energy, he’s still gentle with you.

He strips you out of his shirt, palming your tits in his hands. He bends down to kiss you once, then twice. He trails down your jaw, then the column of your throat. He kisses you right behind your ear, making you squirm underneath him. He moves down once more, sucking your nipple into his hot mouth. You arch up into him, threading your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, Izuku. M-more please.” He moans around you in response. He sucks harder, and you squeeze your fingers harder, grabbing a fistful of his hair. He goes a little feral, rutting into your thigh. He releases the first nipple with pop, moving over to the other one. He repeats the process until they’re both swollen, and bruised from his onslaught. 

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He whispers against you as he trails kisses down your sternum. 

When he reaches your thighs, he places open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs. He worships them, licking and sucking at the sensitive flesh. You squirm, trying to pull him up to your pussy. He looks up, catching your gaze. 

“What happened to being good for me?” You release his hair, fisting your hands in the sheets instead. You know setting him off will only end in you getting the opposite of what you want. 

“Sorry Zu.” He kisses your pussy over your panties.

“‘S okay baby. Let’s get these off.” You lift your hips, helping him get you out of your panties. He spreads your legs wide, hooking them over his shoulders. You watch as he spreads your pussy lips, inhaling the smell of your arousal deeply. You turn away, draping an arm over your eyes, only for him to bite your inner thigh.

“Eyes on me, baby. Always.” You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding. He licks a stripe up your center, locking eyes with you as he does. He watches as your face scrunches up in pleasure. He dives back in, eating you out like a man starved. Immediately, your back arches.

“Yes! Like that Zu -hah-” He groans against you, still keeping eye contact. When the pleasure gets to be too much, you throw your head back against the pillows. You grab his hair, bucking up against him, grinding your pussy against his mouth. He just moans, letting you use him for your pleasure in the way you like. He sucks hard against your clit, and you find yourself lost in the way he makes you feel. 

“Fuck, Zu, I’m-” You don’t finish your sentence, overwhelmed by the pleasure flooding your system. You cum hard, your whole body tightening as you reach your peak. He laps at your folds, not letting one drop of your slick go to waste. You muster up the strength to push his head away as overstimulation takes you. 

“I knew you’d be sweet.” You pout as he rises up on his haunches. 

“Now who’s being mean?” He bends down, kissing the pout off your face. 

“Mhm. I think I deserve to be a little mean. Don’t you?” You nod begrudgingly. He reaches over to his nightstand, digging through it, before he pulls out a condom. You watch as he rips it open, sliding it down his length. He lines it up at your entrance, sliding his tip through your folds.

“You want it?” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Tell me how much you want it, baby.” You pull him down to you, kissing along his neck. You bite down, making his moan. 

“I need you so bad, Izuku. Please, fuck me? Pleeeeaase, baby.” He chuckles against you, pushing the tip in. Both of you gasp at the friction. He slides in, inch by inch, until he’s buried to the hilt. 

“Shit, you’re so tight.” You nod, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He rolls his hips into you, slowly, hitting deep. You plant your feet, raising your hips up to meet his as he grinds down into you.

Soon all that can be heard is the lewd slapping of his hips against your ass. He’s driving into you, hard and deep, as you wrap your legs around his hips, attempting to pull him deeper. 

“F-fuck, ngh, baby.” Your fingers dig deeper into his back.

“Yes, yes. Right there!” His tip rubs up against that spongy spot that drives you insane. He bumps it again, making you quiver around him. 

“One day, ‘m gonna fuck you raw. I’m gonna fill you up, and then fuck my cum into your tight pussy.” You clench hard around him at the image he paints for you.

“You’d like that, huh? My pretty baby, jus’ wants my cum deep in her cunt? You wan’ my babies, huh?” You come undone at the way he whispers in your ear. You clench down hard, your second orgasm rushing over you. His thrusts become sloppy, before he’s spilling into the condom right behind you. He pulls out, panting hard. He bends down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, letting your tongue roam inside his mouth. He pulls away, breaking the string of saliva that connected you. 

After he discards the condom, he comes to lay behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso. You turn in his arms, facing him. 

“I really am sorry, Izuku.” He nuzzles his nose against yours, dotting your face with chaste kisses. 

“S’ okay. Maybe if you kiss me some more, it’ll make it all better.” You roll your eyes, but you pull his mouth down to yours anyway.

Additional Info!!!

COMPLETED ✅

NOT PROOFREAD

This story contains mature content so please, minors do not interact

This story is completely my work do not copy it, feed it into AI, repost or anything of the sort without my explicit say so.

A/n: Thanks to @dotlusional I have developed a deep obsession with a meaner Izuku Midoriya in a way that is crazy unhealthy, so I'm adding to this genre of Izuku 😜

You were helping your dear friend Riddle with decorations for an unbirthday party. Since his overblot you guys became close. He insisted that this one he wants to prepare on his own but little company doesn't hurt either~.

"Housewarden where do the plates go?" Teasing him was of course part of it. "I told you so many times just Riddle it's fine, put them next to the tea sets please." He tried to be serious but his ears were constantly pink around you, so yes you knew your "friend" has a crush on you. But not wanting to make him uncomfortable or rush him you stayed silent. He is still trying to recover from his overblot and you could wait.

"Yee yee whatever you say Housewarden Riddle, and these cookies where do I put them?" Now that made him pause. Rule 769 clearly said cookies are not to be eaten on unbirthday party. He got closer to you so he can inspect them, noticing there is a note on the bottom.

"Riddle these are just for you, don't share, or do who am I to say what does the queen do nya~" The person didn't leave a signature but well nothing except a very big smile drawing but he knew who it was just by what was written. "Ridiculous honestly he just comes and goes as he pleases no respect at all." You could guess who he was talking about. Chenya made these pranks before. Just pops up and disappears. It made the queen mad and he knew it.

"Not fair you got special treatment, must be nice having someone make you cookies and hand deliver them to you." He deadpanned at you. Even if you're just teasing he should know that this isn't something he appreciates. Still he ate a cookie as an idea crossed his mind. "You want one so bad here take they taste nice." Taking a cookie he placed it on your lips. You stared at him for a second before eating it, getting a bit red yourself.

"At least they are tasty right?" He was still not amused but hey at least preparations are done and there is still time for him to go and change his clothes and—. Suddenly there was a wave of heat that crossed his body. He turned away from you trying to swallow and take breaths to calm it, but the wave just came again. And it was getting worse, his breathing becoming shallow.

This was breaking so many rules. Why in Sevens name would Chenya do this? What if someone sees him? What if you see? And then he remembered, you were helping him and he fed you— oh no—

"Perfect are you feeling alright—" The sight before his eyes will probably be very hard to get out of his head for the next couple of weeks. You were clutching your shirt for dear life, pupils blown wide trying hard to control your breaths. "Riddle what's this, why am I feeling like this?"

Poor Housewarden's heart skipped so hard. This shouldn't be the case. It was heavily inappropriate. What would students say if they saw you guys like this? He needed to hide you and him, and fast. It's minutes before anyone arrives and sees you. Taking your hand he pulled you up signalling to follow him. "We need to get away from here now, we'll take the round way back to my dorm room." You just nodded your pretty head too shocked at what is happening.

You successfully got back inside, almost got caught by Ace but Riddle threatened him with a collar if he is late to the party which made him sprint away in a hurry.

Finally behind closed doors he could relax and just wait for this disaster to pass. "Riddle I know this might earn me a collar for the rest of my life but let me help." He was shocked at how bold your request is. But not giving in meant he would be late for the party and that was against the rules. "Would that really be fine?"

You could hear the hesitation in his voice. He was terrified. What if you regret this? What if it's just the drug speaking? Sure he didn't want to break rules but your feelings were much more important to him. His mind was racing but looking at your face, there was no trace of doubt or hesitation just care and pure trust. Sevens, his body wanted to explode even more now. How dare you be so lewd and practically undress him with your eyes.

"No doubts I promise you, I'll make his highness enjoy his time." He pouted at the nickname as his whole face went red. He would never openly admit to you he liked such nicknames. You would tease him far too much.

It almost makes you laugh at how adorable he can be. Your body guided him to sit back on the edge of the bed. Spreading his legs you sat between them. "H-hey, wai-it Perfect." His hands grabbed your shoulders in a panic. He wanted it badly but it was so embarrassing. He fantasized about this he couldn't lie to himself. Specifically seeing how eager you are to please him is arousing.

Ignoring his words, you pulled his pants along with his boxers off being greeted by his erection staring back at you. A low moan escaped him when you kissed his tip. You tried to go slow but you were hungry and your lovely Queen looked so tasty right now. Gripping your hair he made you look him in the eyes.

"Don't tease me, you insisted it was okay don't go easy now."

And here you were thinking you were going too fast. Who was this and where did he put your Riddle?

His hand immediately gripped your hair when you closed your mouth around him. Precum mixed with spit leaking from the corners of your mouth. You're drooling and can't help it. He somehow tasted so sweet on your tongue.

He bucked his hips from time to time cursing under his breath how good your mouth feels wrapped around him. Tears began to prick at the corner of your eyes when you fully took him in your mouth. Your throat was burning from the harsh thrusts. It felt amazing.

You couldn't help yourself. You grinded your hips on his leg. He looked so pretty like this yet somehow he still looked untouchable and fully in control. Smirking down at your pathetic sight he positioned his boot on your sweet spot, chuckling when you made a choking sound and your eyes rolled. "Really that desperate? I'm not even doing anything and you're shaking from grinding on my boot and sucking me off."

Looks like your dear queen doesn't lose his sharp tongue even after he is balls deep in your mouth. Not like you were complaining and even if you wanted to your mouth was too full for that. But why are you so slow? He is getting impatient with the pace of things. Positioning his hips along your throat.

"Fuck~ you don't mind your dear Housewarden using your pretty face to please himself do you rose?"

You're full on sobbing at this point trying to get any air in your lungs. Unfortunately for you he was so close to cumming that it hurt. So be nice and sit still. Losing rhythm of thrusts as his grip on your hair pushed you down to his base so you don't spill anything. You finally got a chance to catch your breath wiping tears from your eyes.

"So pretty and obedient, get on the bed for me dear." His tone left no room for argument. Laying on his bed trying so hard to focus. Unlike him the drug was still hitting you but don't worry. Queen is merciful to those who follow the rules.

His hands gripped your thighs tightly as he slowly sunk into your heat. You are so wet for him your walls sucking him in deep. Soon lewd squelching sounds echoed in his bedroom. You are moaning how good it felt begging him not to stop. Pushing your knees to your chest pinning you in place hitting your cervix with each thrust. Shoving his tongue in your mouth.

With each thrust you were squeezing him tighter until you felt the coil in your stomach snap. Grabbing his back leaving marks that will take days to fade. Pulling away from his lips only to moan his name over and over. He slowly pulled out of you as he came on your stomach. It took five minutes of absolute silence for both of you to come back to your senses. He got five minutes before you began to tease him again.

"Your majesty I didn't expect you to have such a rough approach." He wasn't amused by your teasing. Instead he got up, put some water on a towel he had and wiped your stomach and himself clean, getting dressed like nothing even happened.

"If you don't stop with the teasing next time I'll make sure you can't remember what name you're supposed to moan. Now get dressed I'll wait in front of the room." He tried to act as natural as he did with the drug, but without it he couldn't help blushing. Then your brain registered it. Next time??

꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂

But once you two warmed up to each other and began dating he would always rest his head on your boobs or inbetween your thighs after he’s done from a days work because they’re just so soft and warm (>///<) sometimes he’ll randomly burst out into tears and just start hugging you asking you to hold him and you oblige, who would resist such a cutie ?!

Every week he has you check his grades and you’ll tell him that you’re super proud of him before guiding him to bed, he needs a reward doesn’t he? (˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵) you start off slow and let him feel up on your body while you two make out before you take the lead and make him cry!! Usually it’s from pure pleasure or he’ll get emotional again, he’s just so happy that he has someone to love him and appreciate his efforts it becomes too overwhelming for him, he absolutely has to let it out one way or another!!

He loves when you praise him in bed, it gets him super needy and he gets closer and closer every time!! He’s especially happy because he can touch you however you want and do whatever he wants and you won’t have a care in the world, one day he let the word ‘mommy’ slip and he froze up a bit. But he melted instantly when you began encouraging him to cum inside you to make you an actual mommy (⸝⸝> ω <⸝⸝)

Riddle kept his steps hurried and light as he made his way down the long dirt path to Ramshackle. Resting against his chest with the support of his thin arms was a brown paper bag filled with an assortment of medicine, food, electrolyte powder, water, and anything else Riddle deemed necessary. You had sent him such a distressing text earlier that afternoon. It was a small string of sad faced emojis and you telling him how you were horribly sick. So sick that you would have to skip out on your evening tutoring session with the Housewarden. Riddle was quick to respond, assuring you that he had no qualms with coming to you instead. With the proper precautions of course to avoid infection. 

But you politely declined. You claimed to be so ill you could hardly type any more. You finished the conversation with three skull emojis and stopped responding to his flood of concerned texts. Riddle only felt worse. Not only were you going to miss out on your education, but you were too weak to even lift your fingers! Riddle couldn’t leave you to lie in bed sick and miserable. So he took it upon himself to pay you a visit. 

Riddle had yet to nurse anyone back to health nor did he have plans to do anything in that field. But it was worth it to know you would get better sooner than later. With his mother being a licensed physician Riddle knew enough tips and tricks to whip you back into shape after a day or two. “How did this happen? Was Grim unwell?” The Housewarden of Heartslabyul whispered under his breath with creased brows. Surely a beast cannot pass the sniffles onto a human person? 

Maybe it was because the rickety little building gets so cold at night? He heard you complain in the past about the lack of heat and insulation. Riddle will have to arrange for you to come and stay with him in his dorm until the season grows warmer. Heartslabyul’s lack of rooms wouldn’t matter if he could ease you into the idea of sharing a bed with him. He would even sacrifice his own comfort and sleep on the floor if it meant you would be in better health.  

Maybe the cause of your illness was your lack of nutrition? You always put Grim's stomach first when it comes to food. He was a vacuum. The beast consumed everything in sight; including what was on your plate. Thoughts swarmed in his brain, buzzing as his brows crinkled further at what could be the reason behind your decline in wellness. No matter the reason, Riddle will nurse you back to health so you won’t miss any more lessons with him. It was important that you showed up each time.  

The Housewarden stood on the porch of Ramshackle. The wood creaked softly under his weight as he adjusted the paper bag against his chest. He wasn’t sure if he should call you or let himself in. He didn’t want to disturb you while you slept. You needed your rest and to rebuild your strength. Asking you to come to the door was foolish. And Riddle was aware of your ‘open door policy’. And so were many other male students on campus. He didn’t like it and he personally saw it as unsafe and left him with a lingering anxiety. You should consider your safety more often. Maybe the ‘open door policy’ is what led you to get sick in the first place. Regardless, he let himself into the dorm with a sigh.   

Riddle decided he would talk to you later about locking the door. But first, he needed to feed you. 

The red head stepped into the foyer and looked around as his eyes adjusted to the alarming lack of light. The thin curtains were drawn tightly shut, and there was no hide, nor hair of Grim running amuck or even napping anywhere visible. No blue flame or anything that Riddle could spot. Ramshackle was shrouded in faint darkness and comforting silence. Even the ghosts were away, as they did not come out to greet Riddle with polite tips of their hats. The situation became clear that you truly had planned to be unbothered today. Not expecting guests due to your ailments.  

Meaning you must've sent both Grim and the friendly ghosts elsewhere to play for the time being. He glanced towards the stairs, hearing a sudden soft cry that pulled at his heart strings. Poor thing… To think that you didn’t want him to come over at all. Could be pride that stopped you from asking for help? Could it be that you feared his immune system couldn’t handle your sniffles? No matter the reason, Riddle Rosehearts is here to help. 

“Alright…” He whispered and removed his shoes at the door, creeping through the dimly lit dorm and into the dining room. He emptied the contents of his bags onto the small table and looked everything over. There were three very large bottles of spring water. Nearly the size and width of your forearm and packed with electrolytes and things to encourage the restoration of your immune system. He brought gloves, disposable masks, emergency vomit bags, and a pack of plastic aprons in case you had any projectile fluids that may get on his clothes. He wanted to be prepared for any emergency that may befall you. 

There was a small container of the reddest strawberries Riddle could find, along with plain cream cheese and big, fluffy croissants. It would be light enough for you to eat and keep down in case you were struggling with your appetite. And you needed to eat more fruit and drink more water in his humble opinion. Riddle looked over the spread of various medications next, feeling unsure of what you actually needed. Aspirin, melatonin, anti-nausea, mucus relief, vitamins of all varieties… Even a little bag of cough drops in an assortment of flavors. “She doesn’t sound like she has a cough, at least not that I’ve heard. Maybe it’s a migraine? But how severe?” He murmured as he peeled away his black blazer and draped it over an empty chair with a thoughtful hum.  As he peeled off his black gloves, he looked over… Well, everything.  

Including a roll of bright yellow caution tape to section off your room. It was loaded with germs that could contaminate the rest of Ramshackle. There were tissues, disinfectant wipes, disinfectant spray, cold patches, hot patches, sanitizer, and a little motivational ‘Get Well Soon’ card he picked up.  

Was it too much? Of course not. Riddle felt under prepared for what illness you might have and mentally scolded himself.  

The Housewarden started to purse his lips, now plagued with the thought of being too overbearing. After his Overblot, he had seen the error of his ways and how he could change. To avoid doing to others what his mother did to him. He squeezed his hands into tightly bunched fists. His nails dug roughly into his palms, bringing the sensation of pain to distract Riddle from the spreading feeling of guilt. With a sharp inhale Riddle relaxed his hands and grabbed the plastic carton of berries, vanishing into the kitchen. 

Riddle rolled up the white sleeves of his uniform shirt as he rinsed the red fruit under cold water. He glanced up at the ceiling with a puzzled expression and a slight tilt of his head. As he turned his wrist with the fruit between his thin fingers, there was the sound of footsteps from upstairs. It sounded as if you had gotten up to search for something, only to return to bed shortly after. Maybe to retrieve a phone charger? Tissues? At least you had gotten back in bed. “Honestly, she should be saving her stamina. What if she collapses?” Riddle shook his head in disapproval before busying himself with the fruit. Again, more movement from upstairs. Riddle was starting to feel a bit frustrated that you wouldn’t lie still.  

Being exhausted usually means being unable to even muster the strength to open your eyes, let alone get up. This time, there was the sound of something hitting the ground from above. As if out of frustration you had thrown something. “Is there a parade of pink elephants I’m missing? What on earth is she doing up there?”  

He scowled and shut off the water. After setting the carton of strawberries on the counter to dry, Riddle began his trek upstairs to check on you. He thought of what would be the best course of action once he reached your room. To scold you? Should he use magic to put you to sleep until he finished downstairs? The options were abundant, until soon fading away as he listened to the songful moans dancing down the narrow hallway. All streaming out of your room. Those certainly didn’t sound like the cries of the ill. Riddle slowed his pace, his face growing hot up to the tips of his ears as he listened to you whimper, sob, and mewl with ecstasy. He caught his lower lip between his teeth to choke back the soft gasp threatening to bubble out of his throat. 

The black uniform slacks he wore soon began to tighten in the front as he stood outside of your bedroom door. His posture going awkward as he looked around nervously. Maybe he was imagining everything. Riddle listened to your desperate please and the soft, wet squish of what he could assume to be your fingers plunged deep inside of… Something... Wet.  

He cleared his throat before reaching for the doorknob. Riddle prayed silently to The Great Seven that he would keep his cool the moment he saw you. To silence the loud drum of his heart, to stop the cold sweat frying his nerves. 

It didn’t work. 

He pushed open the door with his hand now trembling, hearing the whimpers and cries of pleasure becoming more desperate the longer he listened. He cleared his throat again, much louder this time. His eyes, now wider than dinner plates, glued themselves to the wooden floor of your room as a shocked sound left your lips. As you began to babble out some sort of excuse, Riddle raised a hand to stop you, his other hand reached towards the bridge of his nose and pinched. “I am unsure as to why you chose such a perverse activity to do if you were feeling ‘so sick’ with not one, but three, skull emoticons.” He was scowling as his face only burned brighter. As red as the strawberries he brought. “To think that you would come up with such an excuse…” As you shuffled around, desperately trying to yank the covers over your bare form, Riddle lifted his slate gray eyes. How embarrassing, caught red handed. And the sound of the vibrator was starting to piss him off. 

Riddle gasped softly under his breath as there was the soft slick sound of your fingers being pulled away from the soaked hole they were previously plunged into. And there was a soft click of the vibrator being turned off. The two of you were now in a deafeningly silent bedroom.  

Part of Riddle wished you wouldn’t have hidden beneath the covers so soon. “How long were you-“  you could barely get the words out before Riddle stopped you once more. “Long enough to see that you aren’t actually ill.”  You had caught your lower lip between your teeth as you propped yourself up against your pillows. Had you known Riddle would’ve stopped by anyway despite your protests, you would’ve tried to put on a more convincing act. Or at least make up a different excuse. 

“Have you ever..?” Your voice was quiet as Riddle turned up his nose. A frown was pulling at the corners of his mouth. With his arms crossed over his chest he side-eyed you with disapproval. The silence lasted longer than you expected and you could feel your face start to burn. Has Riddle ever masturbated? “Well, of course I have! But I have no reason to engage in such lewd acts when I could spend that time furthering my education.” His tone was snippy, and you lowered your eyes, gazing over the front of his pants. “I find it unreasonable to miss classes for the sake of pleasure. I am not some… Animal in hea-” 

“You’re hard, Riddle.” The deafening silence returned and the redhead refused to meet your eyes.  

Riddle pivoted so you wouldn’t see him. Using his hand to cover his mouth as he processed your comment. Cheeks burning a deep crimson as he stared into the floor as if it was far more interesting than you slowly pushing the covers away. He didn’t answer you. You gently patted the bed, watching him slowly turn his head to peek over his slumped shoulder.  

His feet remained firmly planted into the floorboards. You stared at him, watching his face continue to flush with rouge. Surely, if he’d wanted to leave, he would’ve done so by now. 

He would have scolded you and slammed the door shut. But here he was, looking along the bare skin of your body, but never finding the glittering gaze of your eyes. Your dilated pupils. The air of excitement would only harden him further. Your voice broke the long pause of silence. “Do… You wanna join me?” For the first time since he’d walked in, Riddle’s eyes met yours. His eyes went from wide with a flash of excitement, only to be swiftly narrowed in annoyance.  

“H-How can you say such careless things?! Do you realize what you’re asking of me?!” He shouted as you pat your hand against the plush mattress again. Riddle grit his teeth as your eyes remain locked. You smiled at him, cheeky and amused by his reactions as your eyes dipped to see a faint throb confined in his uniform slacks. “Of course I know. Because I meant it. How about this? You help me out really quick, then we can go right back to our usual study session, deal?” You suggested and your smile widened when you heard the hitch in his breath. But he didn’t answer.  

“Or would you rather wait outside?” You slowly reached for your blankets, watching him take a brave step towards the bed. “No. I-I’ll help. If you insist.” He gulped, shuffling closer as his eyes found themselves watching your hands. They had abandoned their reach for the covers and instead rested on the mattress. He stood beside the bed, his heart so loud he thought his ears would pop. He admired your naked body in silence. The hills and curves, the plush of your flesh, the dull shine of your two longest fingers on your dominant hand, the rise and fall of your chest, the hairs that clung to your sweaty forehead, the tint in your cheeks, and the hungry way you looked up at him. Waiting for him to hurry up and join you. 

He shyly unbuttoned his black pants; the loosened fabric brought him relief as the zipper was pulled down at the pace of a snail's crawl. His hands were still shaking as he watched you reach towards him and assist with removing his clothes. You were much quicker, tugging the garment down his pale thighs with motivation he had only seen during your study sessions together.  

His red briefs were now exposed. And on the front was a small wet stain had blotted the fabric where the tip of his cock rested against the curve of his hip. Riddle watched your tongue swipe over your upper lip as those were tugged down next. The red head buried his burning face into his cupped palms. Peeking down at you through the cracks off his fingers. He enjoyed the chill of his hands against his scalding face as you gently trailed your fingers along the underside of his penis. Pulling ever so slowly on the hot, velvety skin before slipping the pad of your thumb over the pink crown. 

“You’re uncircumcised?” You sounded curious as Riddle started to frown. “Well, most men are.” Did you think it was weird? “Nice.~” Oh.  

His hips jerked from the sudden sensation as you pulled your hand away. A smile relaxed on your face as you gently pinched his pants leg and tugged. “Off.” You commanded softly as Riddle pulled his hands from his burning face. The pants were discarded obediently along with his other layers. He loosened his bowtie with impatience. He unbuttoned his vest and crisp white uniform shirt next before throwing them with what was already crumpled to the floor. Now that he was naked, he pressed his knee into the bed and caused the weight to shift. Riddle watched as you parted your thighs as he climbed into bed with you. Your legs propped up on either side of him as he sat on his knees. He was hard, throbbing, and clearly anxious.  

The ghost of your touch was fresh in his mind as he watched your hand slowly slip between your wettened thighs; your fingers gently parted to not obscure the delectable view from Riddle’s intense watch. “Come on…” You purred and reached out to give him another long and slow stroke. In the process, a quiet moan left his lips as Riddle rested his left hand on the soft plush of your thigh. He offered an experimental squeeze to the flesh as you pulled your hand away, watching his thin fingers wrap around the length of his cock. Riddle was bigger than you thought.  

You watched his hand slowly massage the length of his shaft as he swallowed back his moans. His face was still red and with each slow stroke and his fingers would flex and squeeze your thigh. The Housewarden watched as you joined him in mutual masturbation. The tips of your fingers swirled in hypnotic circles around your swollen clit. He swallowed again as a thin string of drool threatened to spill past his lips. 

He watched how the muscles in your digits flexed, how your sticky, clear, nectar would drip out of you, leaving silver spider threads of pleasure behind. Riddle’s heart was pounding as he watched your other hand reach out and rest on his thigh. Your fingers drummed over his skin, sending signals to his brain so intense he feared he would black out from the blood rushing from his brain. 

The red headed Housewarden had never been faced with a situation like this. 

“Are you okay?” You whispered hopefully and smiled as Riddle nodded his head in response. A quiet string of moans trickled out of his mouth as he rolled his hips into his now tight fisted palm. The two of you were moving in sync. Your fingers rolling, his hips pumping. Riddle’s mouth had parted as he steadied himself with your leg, moans poured out one after the other as he watched you in a drunken haze. As if you had learned dark magic, Riddle was trapped under your lustful spell. And had no reason to break free.  

“Good.” You purred and dipped your middle finger back inside, nestled deep within your soft, hot walls. The lewd squelch made Riddle gasp as he watched with drooping eyes and pre-cum pearling at the tip of his cock. His hips had fallen out of sync of your shared rhythm. His pumping was rapid now as you wiggled your hips.  

A soft giggle left your mouth as you slowly raised your lower half upwards until his knuckles dragged over your clit. His eyes widened as you slipped a second finger inside of your aching hole and lowered yourself back onto the mattress. You felt a few cool droplets landing on your bare skin against the space right above your naval. Riddle pulled his hand from your thigh to brush the back of his hand with his mouth, leaving it there as he looked down at you embarrassed. “Sorry…” Riddle apologized in a weak voice you had never heard before, he was drooling over the sight of you. It was hot, and it encouraged you to keep going.  

The feeling was even more intense. You could feel Riddle inching closer. His sweat slicked thighs now tucked beneath your knees. “I’m… Gonna cum.” Riddle cried quietly under his breath, he could feel his stomach become tight with excitement as his cock throbbed in his palm. His face was burning as he watched the shiny slick coat your fingers. The sweet scent mixing with the salt of your sweat made his head spin. His hand felt less and less like it was enough, knowing your hole was right before him. Starving for his attention. Begging for his lingering touches. 

“I... I want it, inside Riddle...” Your whining voice pulled him free from his daze. Riddle chewed on his bottom lip, watching you grip the sheets underneath you as his hand slowed to a stop. He wanted it just as badly as you did, maybe even more so. “Please?” You begged and slipped your leg laying over his thigh closer to his hip. Urging him closer with a nudge from your heel.  

Riddle was hesitant, after all, he had never done this before. “Are you sure?” His voice was strained. He was desperate, silently pleading that you would give him a ‘yes’ of confirmation. Riddle needed the okay to bury himself deep inside of your desperate hole. To feel what it was like to be sheathed deep inside of you. To fuck you completely full the way no one else could. 

You did not answer him, instead you watched him squirm with desperation. His mouth moved into a pout until you began to move your hand. As you pulled your wet fingers from the depths of your cunt, you used those same ones to spread yourself open. The soft folds were like blooming flower petals with the entrance slick and welcoming for Riddle. The scent was like a ripe fruit ready to be split open and enjoyed. “Please… Fuck me.” That was all Riddle needed to hear from you.  

He was shaking, whimpering quietly as he ran the tip of his cock between the plush, meaty folds of your pussy. Riddle had only read about these types of interactions in his erotic novels. He’d never imagined the real thing to feel like this.  

Your hands flew out and gripped onto his pale shoulders as he lined himself up with your awaiting entrance. A groan filled the air as the red head began pushing in as gently as he could. He watched your eyes roll back in pleasure. Weak cries of ecstasy fell from your soft lips. 

Riddle was quickly becoming overstimulated from the brand new sensations your body offered to him. He steadied himself with his hands resting on your hips. Sweat now pooling at his brow as he bit back his wimpy groans. Riddle gave a few more shallow thrusts before finally bottoming out deep inside of you. His thighs shook as your walls convulsed and hugged his cock. The soft smack of your skin meeting almost caused him to cum on the spot. But he held back the best he could with his eyes screwed shut. 

Yet the sound of your cries for him to move was pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He could hear your breath strain, your nails began digging into his shoulders as he dragged his hips with a slow and steady pace. He didn’t want to hurt you by moving too quickly. But it looked as if you were enjoying yourself. The gentle pace didn’t last long as you dragged your nails across his pale skin. Leaving red, raised lines in your path. 

Your cunt was milking him, begging for him to move faster, to drill deeper, to pump you full of his thick, hot sperm. “More… Please Riddle?” Your soft voice was tight and breathy as you cried for the Housewarden. The red head nodded vigorously as his hands left your hips. One rested on the underside of your thigh, pushing it up and out of the way as he leaned over you. Sinking deeper as his other hand supported him on the mattress. His once shallow and soft thrusts became deep and rough. A much quicker pace that was bringing you both to the end. His hips ground into yours with each sudden thrust. The muscles of your inner thighs grew sore as you hugged him close with lustful cries. More! Yes! Faster! Harder! Riddle, please! 

The knot in Riddle’s stomach twisted and tightened with an intensity he couldn’t ignore. He wanted to cum, he needed to cum. You cried out with a stuttered moan as your eyes fluttered shut. You squeezed and creamed around him. Squealing with a dopey smile and pulling Riddle closer with your heel digging into his back. Your toes curled tight as your thighs shook.  

He couldn’t stop. Even if he wanted to. He cried out, his body trembling as he unloaded inside of you. His head was spinning as his nails dug into the skin on your thigh. He didn’t notice how the deep crescents began to turn into welts. His cock continued to throb and pump you full of his seed. He had yet to come to his senses. There were consequences that often followed having sex unprotected. But that was for a later date to fuss over. 

Riddle struggled to catch his breath, looking down at you with exhaustion and his eyes slowly drifting shut. “So… Are you..?” His breath was ragged and weak as you both locked gazes when you opened your eyes. A small smile melted onto his face as he leaned in. Your noses gently brushed against one another and your breath hitched. You felt him throb inside of you.  

the hardline of his body curves against your back, thick arms snaking around your middle in the form of a noose — you’re tied to the pro hero without the ability or strength to escape. “it’s not that i think you’re not capable of the mission, love,” izuku reveals his truth to you, word by word, quietly. his chest expands with a breath that seems to be relieved — being honest with how he truly feels about you. “don’t you think it’s best if someone… higher ranking handles it? you know that your quick can sometimes be… unstable under pressure.”

you flinch. “now you’re just being mean.”

“so you are upset with me,” rolling his emerald eyes, he sounds almost bored, like he finds the whole scenario pointless. the two of you hate to fight but it’s easy to lose against deku’s patronising tone and sassy sigh. “even though i’m the one who got you here on this team. it’s not being mean it’s just honesty.”

“and now you’re telling everyone i can’t hold my ground. do you see how that would upset me?” to prevent you from making a scene, the jaded hero crowds you into a quieter hallway and makes quick work of his hands. one map’s its scarred grip up your abdomen and sternum in a perverse pathway — reaching for your throat using gentle pressure. it’s a grounding reminder, your reality. his thumb presses carefully into your erratic pulse — the ghost of izuku’s smile a whisper against your ear.

the other hand sits between your thighs, practically burning through your spandex hero suit as if it were the very sun Icarus flew too close to.

“you would prefer it if i weren’t honest? if i lied to you? then you’d be all embarrassed and come crying to me and that would make me a bad boyfriend, wouldn’t it?” he bites and snarls, bearing his teeth back to you in hopes that you’ll be good. back down. “i’m just looking out for you, trying to keep my sweet girl safe. i don’t know what i’d do if i lost you.”

“i don’t need you always looking out for me.” you argue.

“of course you do, silly girl. i’m your boyfriend,” you know what he means to say. izuku is your hero, he’s everyone’s hero. born from clay and carved to form the legend man will talk of for centuries. every role he’s ever played blends into one, boyfriend, son, hero. to him, they all mean the same thing. control over who survives and who doesn’t — who is worth saving when it comes down to the wire. it doesn’t matter — to him — the strength you possess. you will always be another damsel to him. “why are you being this way?”

“izuku, i’m not being any way!”

“yes, you are. you’re not listening to me right now,” his squeeze around your throat becomes dangerous — threatening to restrict air flow. he wouldn’t dare hurt you and you, quiet frankly, wouldn’t push him off when you very well can. the reason being, that you enjoy his almost cruel control over you because you know that izuku means well. your best interest is at the heart of everything you do. at least that’s what you tell yourself. “come back to me, be my good girl and let me handle this. stay here where i know you’re safe.” he purrs.

despite it all — your frustration bubbles up and manifests in tears and izuku’s knuckle runs rings over your clothed folds as you avidly wipe your face clean. “come now, don’t cry,” he digs deliciously against the slick spot in the front of your hero costume — sloppily kissing your cheek. “let me make it up to you, show you how sorry i am.”

“i won’t do it again.” he murmurs the promise, pace quickening until you’re soaking through to his fingers tips. “i love you so much.”

your head tips backwards against his firm shoulder in a forgiving moan — the situation nearly forgotten, replaced by familiar sensations of ecstasy heading south through the synapses in your body. dully, your clit throbs beneath izuku’s ministrations, pushing fabric side to side over the pleasure centre that pearls with arousal between clothed folds.

“look at how wet this pussy is for me,” izuku chuckles coyly, another victory under his belt. “she’s so sticky. it’s like there was never a problem between us in the first place.”

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

You giggled, holding up a soft lavender sweater with embroidered clouds against his chest. “Izuku, babe, it’s not a tactical mission. It’s just clothes. I thought it’d be fun if we matched a little. You’re always in those plain hoodies or hero merch. Let me try something cutesy on you?”

He blinked, freckles standing out as a blush crept up his neck. “C-cutesy? Like… your style? I mean, yeah! Of course! If it makes you happy, I’m all in. One Hundred Percent!” His smile was bright, earnest, the kind that still made your heart skip even after two years together.

You’d been together long enough for him to know your love for pastel overload wasn’t just a phase. He supported it fully—had even defended your coordinate looks against a snarky tabloid once by rambling about cultural expression and quirk-adjacent confidence boosting. But participating? That was new territory for the man who lived in reds, greens, and practical fabrics built for hero work.

“Okay, first attempt,” you said, pulling out items. A pale mint green button-up with subtle strawberry prints (subtle being relative), paired with cream chinos and a soft cardigan that had tiny bow accents on the pockets. You added a simple chain necklace with a star charm. “Try this. Nothing too extreme.”

Izuku nodded vigorously, disappearing into the bathroom. When he emerged five minutes later, you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing—not in a mean way, but in pure affection.

He’d gotten… most of it right. The shirt was buttoned properly, but he’d tucked it in too aggressively, creating awkward bunching. The cardigan was on backwards at first glance—no, wait, he’d just misaligned the buttons so one side hung lower. The chinos were fine, but he’d paired them with his usual worn hero boots instead of the loafers you’d suggested. And the necklace? Dangling from his wrist like a makeshift bracelet because “I thought it might get in the way during patrols, but this way it’s accessible!”

“Izuku…” You stepped closer, adjusting the cardigan. “It’s really sweet. You tried so hard.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, ears red. “I analyzed the color theory! Pastels are supposed to complement your pink tones, right? But the boots… they’re practical. One For All residue can be unpredictable, and I didn’t want to ruin nicer shoes. The necklace thing was a tactical adaptation—”

You cupped his face, thumbs brushing his freckles. “I love it. I love that you thought about it like a hero analysis. But let’s tweak it together?”

His eyes lit up. “Yes! Please. Teach me your ways. I want to match properly. For you.”

The next hour turned into a gentle fashion lesson. You sat him down and explained the vibe: soft layers, balance between cute and functional, nothing that would scream “trying too hard” but still fun. Deku took notes—actual notes—in his notebook, sketching quick diagrams of your suggestions.

“Layering is key,” you said, swapping the backwards cardigan for a properly buttoned one in a complementary baby blue. “And for shoes, these sneakers. They’re white with little cloud details. Practical enough for your standards, but cutesy.”

He laced them up carefully, then stood for inspection. This time it was closer: the strawberry shirt peeked out neatly under the cardigan, colors harmonizing with your own frilly blouse and pleated skirt in matching pastels. The necklace sat right at his collarbone.

“Better?” he asked, doing a small spin that made the cardigan swish.

“Much. You look adorable.” You adjusted the collar, fingers lingering. “Like a hero who moonlights as a bakery owner or something.”

Deku’s blush deepened, but he grinned that wide, determined smile. “If it means I get to stand next to you looking like we belong together, I’ll take it. I’ve been studying kawaii aesthetics online—did you know there are whole subgenres? Decora, fairy kei… I made a pros and cons list for each based on mobility.”

You laughed softly, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrapped around you immediately, warm and steady. “You nerd. I love you for that.”

“I love you more,” he murmured into your hair. “For showing me this side of things. Hero work is all sharp edges sometimes. This feels… light. Nice.”

Casual day at the agency arrived brighter than expected. You’d coordinated fully: your outfit a pastel pink dress with puff sleeves and subtle heart prints, white thigh-high socks with tiny bows, and a cropped cardigan. Izuku had practiced the night before, refusing your help this time so he could “get it right independently.”

He stepped out of the bedroom looking… mostly perfect. The mint shirt, cream pants (un-tucked this time), cloud sneakers, and cardigan all aligned. He’d even added a small pin you’d given him—a tiny All Might chibi in pastel colors, which he’d somehow incorporated without clashing.

But the hair. Oh, Izuku.

He’d tried styling it with the cute clips you’d left out. One bunny-ear clip sat crooked on the side of his wild green curls, and a star-shaped one was half-buried, making it look like an accidental accessory rather than intentional.

You covered your mouth, eyes sparkling with fondness. “Izuku.”

“What? Is it bad?” He checked the mirror, poking at the clips. “I thought symmetry would be key, but my hair defies physics on a good day. One For All makes it fluffier after training, and—”

“It’s perfect,” you interrupted, voice warm. You reached up, gently repositioning the clips so they framed his face cutely without looking forced. “You tried so hard again. That’s what I love most. Not the outfit being flawless, but you putting in the effort for something that matters to me.”

He relaxed under your touch, leaning into it. “I want to be part of your world too. Not just the hero side. The soft, happy, cutesy parts. Even if I’m still figuring it out.”

You took his hand, lacing fingers. “You already are. Come on, let’s go show everyone how cute pros can be.”

At the agency event, heads turned—not in mockery, but in surprised delight. Some younger sidekicks whispered about Deku’s “new look,” and a few veterans chuckled good-naturedly. Uraraka floated over immediately, eyes wide. “Deku! You look so soft! Matching with your girlfriend? That’s adorable!”

Izuku rubbed his neck, muttering stats about color psychology again, but his hand stayed firm in yours. You squeezed back, proud.

Later, during a quiet moment on the rooftop terrace overlooking the city, he pulled you close. The pastel tones caught the golden hour light beautifully.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, voice thoughtful. “Fashion like this… it’s its own kind of strength. Boosting morale, expressing identity without words. Like how All Might’s smile inspired everyone. Your style does that for people around you. Makes things brighter.”

You rested your head on his shoulder. “And you make it better by joining in. Even when the clips are crooked.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling warmly. “I’ll get better. Next time, full decora coordination. I found tutorials.”

“Only if you let me help from the start.”

“Deal.”

The breeze ruffled your matching layers. Izuku wasn’t perfect at cutesy—his nerdy intensity made sure of that—but his support was unwavering. In a world of quirks and battles, these soft moments felt like the real victories.

You tilted your head up for a kiss, which he met halfway—sweet, a little clumsy from residual shyness, but full of that 100% effort you adored.

“Love you, my fashionable hero,” you whispered.

“Love you more, my inspiration,” he replied, eyes shining.

No grand declarations needed. Just two people, matching in pastel and heart, figuring it out together—one crooked clip at a time.

༉‧₊˚. A/N: sorry!! I didn't do lolita cause I don't know much about the fashion, hope this is good enough!

comments and reblogs are always apprecciated!!