Hinata Shoyo X Reader | Teen Pregnancy Pt.1 The News

i miss my man

;*࿐hinata bf hcs

wc: 0.3k content warning: fluff, slight smut, aged up, post-time skip, my booty writing, not proofread

｡*ぃ🐦‍⬛

-Hinata, the type of boyfriend to love buying you trinkets he finds whenever he travels for volleyball because they reminded him of you.

-Hinata, the type of boyfriend to put all of his attention to make you happy when you're feeling upset. His comforting warmth always brings you to a small giggle when he does dumb things to uplift your mood.

-Hinata, the type of boyfriend to love when you lock your fingers with his. He'd be so happy you want to hold hands and start swinging them at full force out of joy.

-Hinata, the type of boyfriend to love surprising you with back hugs. He'd sneak up behind you on his tippy toes and arms wide up in the air trying to be discrete as possible. His cheeky grin lurking on his face before he traps you with his arms.

-Hinata, the type of boyfriend to literally be one of your biggest cheerleaders. He's the best at hyping you up when you lack confidence in yourself, urging you to always do your best.

-Hinata, the type of boyfriend to literally get so excited whenever he sees your text notification and drops his phone. He would shoot back the fastest responses and send multiple texts at a time like HEYYY WYD?? I JUST FINISHED PRACTICE WITH ATSUMU IT WAS SO FUN!!! :DD

-Hinata, the type of boyfriend to be considered as your parents’ son upon meeting him. His energy is so bright and cheery, they'd also love feeding him new dishes and inviting him over for dinner. Whenever they go to his games, Hinata would always spot them with a smile and wave to acknowledge their support.

-Hinata, the type of boyfriend to enjoy plummeting his cock into you at a quick pace while you look back at him calling out his name, enjoying the sight and sensations he's creating.

-Hinata, the type of boyfriend to go on for multiple rounds due to his bunny-like, endless stamina. However he does stop when he notices you start to lose your steam and gives you a break if you want to continue.

-Hinata, the type of boyfriend to wake up earlier than you and sit beside you as he watches you wake up. Handing you a nice chilled glass of water, asking if you felt good last night.

masterlist here

Old habits die hard

Take Me Back

hinata shouyou x reader words; 1345 synopsis; breaking up and making up with the one that he couldn't let get away from him.

“Take me back to that summer in Brazil playing beach volleyball.” 4 missed calls.

In a language he doesn't call his own but feels like home he leaves voicemails for her. He clears his throat, and says his piece. He knows he should be loving his girlfriend here in Japan, but he's too addicted to the taste of brigadeiros and pavé in her mouth. Brazil warmed his senses up to a new style of play and a new way to love.

He looks at the clock on his wall, it’s a perfect 12 hour time difference. He’s going to bed, she just had lunch. She never calls him back though. She only texts through Whatsapp when she has the time to properly respond, around midnight her time and lunchtime for him.

“I know it's been a while and I haven’t reached out.” 12 missed calls.

She showed him around Rio when no one else could. She was the one who ended up having to endure him when he underwent his first really bad sunburn. He remembers the way she laughed at him for forgetting sunscreen, “tão burro” she kept repeating while rubbing aloe vera on his shoulders. He remembers whining so much that she poked him in the forehead before putting her hands on her hips and chastising him in her Portuguese that was just way too fast for him to catch any of the words.

He had to meekly apologize with a pout, and she forgave him with a kiss.

Maybe that’s why he still sometimes forgot to put on sunscreen when he was playing volleyball.

“Thought I’d regret you like a teenage tattoo but I miss you, baby what can I do?” 14 missed calls.

In Brazil Hinata only got good at swimming because she loved to swim. And because she wore the best swimsuits, but that’s not his only sole reason for getting into swimming. She could swim circles around him, but he still had fun treading the water.

Sometimes, she liked to duck down into the water and tug on his legs. The first time she did that, Hinata thought he would die and that the tug was a result of a shark. The way she just curled into herself and giggled when she popped out of the water and observed his reaction was unparalleled by any other prank he’d gone through. Her joy at his pain was unusual but also intriguing.

Those little games, sometimes back and forth, but mostly her playing them on him was something he missed when he got back to Japan. When he got back, he went into his apartment expecting her to be dancing samba in the living room to afrobeat music. When she wasn’t there, a pang of melancholy strung at his heart. His home here was less alive.

“Why do I shiver thinking about you?” 17 missed calls.

No matter how much his friends and family compared him to the sun, he still thought that he paled in comparison to her. Bright, loud, and glad to be doing her own thing.

There’s always the possibility that he developed some sort of codependency on her. Despite her free-spirit and slightly loner dependencies, Hinata stuck to her like glue. When she would try and slink off into the night to go clubbing, he would bring her in and make traditional Japanese dishes for her to try. Hinata introduced Oikawa to her, which may have been a problem, but she didn’t seem to enjoy Oikawa’s overwhelming embrace of machismo culture. She liked Hinata’s gentle and silent strength over a boastful, loud power.

A guiding hand on her waist rather than pulling her along by the hand. A kiss to the shoulder instead of tearing her away from her conversations for a breathless kiss. Early morning texts to say good morning instead of late night, ‘you up?’ messages. Hinata was everything she wanted, or so Hinata thought.

Apparently, going on three dates in a row wasn’t considered an exclusive relationship to her. So when Hinata saw her with a different guy on the beach, using his towel that she always lent him, tucking her hair behind her ear the way he was supposed to, Hinata didn’t know how else to react.

Throwing a volleyball at the back of the guy’s head was probably not the right move to make, but it was the move he made. The other man just rubbed the back of his head, saying that ‘estrangeiros’ were always a little too obsessed with fine Brazilian women. She just smacked Hinata upside the head, but when he looked at her with sad eyes and with his bottom lip just a little jutted out, she ran a hand through his hair and brought him into an open mouth kiss.

He did have to apologize to her other date, and he ended the conversation by saying that she was still off limits.

“You're still the one I’m thinking about.” 20 missed calls.

Hinata was tired now. It was one in the morning and he was leaving her messages while he laid in bed waiting for sleep to finally take him. Was he desperate? Likely and affirmatively yes.

She told Hinata that long-distance wouldn’t work out, and that he should enjoy finding other people to date back at his home country. He wanted to argue with her, but she said it was final.

She was just there for a while, embracing him in his time in Brazil, and then since he was leaving, she would become merely a part of his memories. Her ease of farewells ripped his heart out. He wished she would’ve fought for them more, fought for him more. But you can’t ask people to stay who don’t want to stay of their own will. So he left, and she said good luck.

When he went back to Japan, he was worried about her. So he did ask Oikawa to check in on her and make sure she was doing okay. Then when Oikawa would send occasional pictures of them at the beach, with their tongues sticking out and hair wet from the ocean water, Hinata wanted nothing more than to be back in Brazil enjoying life. Oikawa would send other photos too, with her permission, ones where Oikawa caught her surfing a wave with practiced skill and ease of enjoyment for the activity, or when she was just laying on the sand stretching in the warmth of the sky.

They were friendly, sending messages frequently during the weeks of his initial return. Then as the months went on, there was less connecting the two, she didn’t respond to messages that quickly. She didn’t update him on life back in Brazil, and he stopped giving her play-by plays of all the games he participated in and who he had met up with.

He got a Japanese girlfriend, and she was nice. But she wasn’t the girl he wanted to go home to everynight.

“Maybe I still want something about you?” 26 missed calls.

There was a saying, from some American poet, someone he learned about but entirely forgot. The saying talked about the influence of yearning. It is the worst poison, best medicine, and key to so many doors.

He was out and about, looking for some lunch now. His sleep was restless. Maybe a fruit sando would be the best solution to the hunger pangs in his stomach. Exchanging cash for the food, he sits outside on the patio, unwrapping the foil and taking a bite.

She finally responded when the time neared midnight in her timezone, texting him. She asked if he knew what he was doing. She asked if he was inebriated last night. She asked if he was still dating his girlfriend. She said that if he was still dating her then he wasn’t being nice. She said she would never date someone who cheats. Hinata screenshots his text exchange with his newly ex-girlfriend.

She sends an eye roll emoji.

He smiles.

Midnight in Brazil. 0 missed calls. One incoming call.

Having the Number One pro hero as your boyfriend is not easy.

Especially when you're a pro hero yourself.

And especially when your relationship is supposed to be a secret.

And even more especially when your boyfriend needs to be around you every second of every day like his life depends on it.

Izuku's a sweet man, he always has been and always will be. But sweet isn't even close to the word someone could use to describe how he treated you. In fact, even infatuated wouldn't be sufficient.

But Izuku's love has a price. He knows you can damn well defend yourself (trust me, he probably knows best after you almost stabbed him by accident when he came home in the middle of the night with no warning)—but still, he worries.

Which is why, much to his chagrin more than your own, you kept your relationship hidden from the public.

But like I said, Izuku's love for you is a force stronger than One for All itself.

So you can imagine this 'secret relationship' thing didn't really work out..

It was after a mission, a big operation in the city - the heroes had won but barely.

You were all exhausted.

And your boyfriend Pro Hero Deku more than most.

You were talking with a reporter, trying to reassure the civilians that everything was now resolved, when Izuku stumbles over and just starts peppering your face with kisses tiredly, the battle taking so much out of him that he forgets where he is.

he just wants his baby :(

All you can really do is stand there and take it, face bright red as a stunned cameraman and civilians start snapping photos and taking videos of the affectionate pro hero.

...Good thing you can defend yourself.

A/N: Deku's not one of my favs heh but he's such a sweetheart we need more loverboys in the world 😔

mi mi.. first time sending a req but i yearn for izu putting reader in a headlock and fucking himself stupid. sprinkle sprinkle, lots of luv ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭✧

you got it<3

Izuku had been pent up for a bit, yearning for your touch. He needed you to make him feel better, his hand was no longer enough for him. He was just so busy that he never had the time to really enjoy what he was doing.

He'd finally gotten some time alone with you, and boy did he plan to make it count for something. Of course you didn't object, you wanted to make him feel better; to relieve him of his stress and other worries.

Izuku held you down in your bed, one hand on your hips the other on your throat. He was being quite aggressive but goodness you didn't mind. It was sexy to see this side of him, that terribly feral side. Where he acted like a wild animal who hadn't eaten in ages.

He roughly grinded his hips into yours groaning deeply with a rasp in his tone, he would pause his passion filled kisses for only a second just to breath or tell you how much he loved you. How much he needed you, how much he wanted to feel you squeeze around his cock.

The thought alone had his self control fleeting. He heard a mewl leave you as he moved his attention to your neck he knew you were sensitive there, nibbling lightly and sucking harshly hickeys onto your skin.

“ oh izuku..”

Your voice so soft and sweet silently pleading for him. It drove him crazy, what more could he have done besides rip all of your clothes off. He moves with haste, almost as if taken over by lust completely. Izuku flipped you over with ease as if you were nothing to him, pushing your back down into an aching arch a harsh slap coming to your ass warning a loud gasp from you.

Your eyes widened and your skin stung with pain. However you couldn't deny the butterflies that littered your stomach, the way your heart fluttered at the sudden excitement of this enticing side of your normally gentle and sweet boyfriend, your cunt clenched at the thought of how rough he might be with you tonight. Maybe you'd actually pass out from overwhelming pleasure....

An hour later you were a mess. Cheeks slick with tears, drool dripping down your lips past your chin and down your neck. Izuku had his fingers in your mouth while he had you in a headlock, his arm tightly around your neck as he grunted with each painful and sharp thrusts he delivered.

“ fucking hell.. take this fucking dick— take it.”

You couldn't speak, your voice raspy and hoarse eyes crossing and failing to focus on anything as you let him fuck you into oblivion. He was sweaty and so were you, it was terribly hot and him holding you so close skin against skin making you both even sweatier.

Your head was spinning and you were in pain. Izuku never pushed you past your limit but boy was tonight different, many different positions and many many orgasms. Izuku knew when to stop, he knew if you needed him to he would....right?

“ oh- oh yeah baby, so fuckin' good at this..”

You could hear his breath quicken, his pace fastening even more. He was in a daze dead set on emptying his tightening balls inside of you once more. His orgasms were always heightened, his hyperspermia had him cumming for a long time. And it was so much too, alot to take inside. But he knew you'd take it for him you were too fucked dumb to even protest.

A low groan left him, whines proceeding to leak from his mouth as well as he squeezed his eyes shut. Sweat dripping down his forehead past his eyebrow and onto his forearm around your neck, he kissed your head lightly and had his thumb rubbing your head too. It was sweet honestly, but you couldn't bother to think about it your cunt spasming around his cock and milking his cum out of him all over again.

“ gon... gonna cum...”

Izukus voice was low as it was quivering and you could hear whines leaving him. They grew louder as his hips slapped against your ass rougher, your hands squeezed around his forearm feeling his veins and the way he flexed around your neck causing you to feel lightheaded.

His orgasm came crashing onto him the way your pussy fluttered had him moaning in your ear, his hot breath was all over your body making your sweaty body even more moist. You felt his tight grip on your neck cease to exist a gush of air invading your lungs. The sharp intake of a ton of air making you choke on it, coughing and slouching forward to catch your breath.

As izuku came back to his senses it worried him, had he gone too far? Maybe he was a bit too rough with you....he could've let up a bit for you. He had put you through the ringer for a while.

“ hey, you okay? did I go too far..”

Those wide eyes of his carrying terrible guilt behind them. He rubbed circles on your back while you relaxed to his touch. You lean back against him his naked body against yours as you lay on him. He sighs and just lies down, you were both sweaty and the air you had forgotten existed felt so sweet in your moist bodies. You were pretty messy, leaking a heavy amount of his cum you figured this was either his problem or one for later.

Izuku took care of it of course.

yeah I need to do better...

જ⁀♡⊹｡° stains where you should be

( hinata shoyo x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — back in my haikyuu writing era ;)

♡ word count — 1.1k

♡ content — hinata shoyo x fem! reader, brazil! hinata, pro beach volleyball player! reader, slight nsfw, 18+, no explicit nsfw but it is mentioned, manga spoilers ig? even though i'm sure that many people know how it ends, established relationship, messy relationship, yearning, lmk if i missed anything!

♡ synopsis — after half a year in Brazil, the only time hinata feels like he is home...is when he's with you.

The first time Hinata sees you, you’re standing in the sand like you were born there.

The wind howls around you, but you don’t waver. The sand shifts beneath your feet, but you don’t stumble. Every movement is precise, every step purposeful.

You’re not just playing beach volleyball—you are the game, completely in sync with the rhythm of the court, the rush of the ocean breeze, the pulse of competition.

Hinata watches, entranced.

He came to Brazil to train, to push himself beyond his limits, to become more than just the player he was. But here, on the beach, everything is different.

The sand swallows his steps, the wind steals his control, and suddenly, the court he knew so well has transformed into something untamed.

He’s never played like this before, never had to adjust for an environment that fights back.

But you? You make it look effortless.

The match ends, and he’s already moving toward you before he fully realizes it. His shirt sticks to his skin, damp from his own practice, but all he can think about is you.

“How do you do it?” he blurts out, still catching his breath.

You turn, blinking at him with an unreadable expression. Up close, you’re even more intimidating—not in size, but in presence. Like you know exactly who you are, like the world doesn’t shake you.

“Do what?” you ask, tilting your head.

Hinata gestures vaguely to the sand, the wind, everything. “That! The way you move, the way you—like the wind doesn’t even touch you. How do you jump like that?”

A slow smile tugs at your lips. “I guess I just got used to it.”

“Teach me,” he says immediately, voice alight with determination. “Please.”

You exhale, watching him for a long moment before nodding. “Alright. Hope you’re ready to eat a lot of sand.”

It starts as training.

Late-night sessions on the sand, long after the sun has dipped below the horizon. The two of you meet when the rest of the world has gone quiet, when the only sounds left are the crash of waves and the occasional distant laughter from a nearby beach bar.

At first, he struggles. A lot.

The sand betrays him. The wind mocks him. The game he thought he understood has changed, and he stumbles over his own feet more times than he can count.

You laugh every time.

“Did you just trip over the air?” you tease as he groans, face-first in the sand.

“It moved!” Hinata protests, spitting out a mouthful of grit. “I swear the sand moved!”

You roll your eyes, offering him a hand. He takes it without hesitation.

The nights blur together—long hours spent chasing the ball, learning the subtle shifts of the wind, adjusting his jumps. He gets better. He learns fast. And as the training stretches on, something else changes, too.

One night, after an exhausting session, you tilt your head at him. “My place is closer than yours,” you say. “You can crash there if you want.”

Hinata hesitates for only a second before nodding. “Yeah. Okay.”

Your home is small but warm. The kind of place that feels lived in, filled with little pieces of you—a shelf lined with trophies, photos pinned up on a board, the lingering scent of something citrusy in the air.

You toss him a towel and some clean clothes. “These should fit you.”

Hinata looks down at the oversized towel wrapped around his waist. “What? You don’t like my new look?”

You snort. “Not unless you plan on making it a fashion statement.”

He grins but takes the clothes, disappearing into the bathroom. When he emerges, you’re already settled on the couch, a movie playing in the background.

Hinata isn’t really watching.

His gaze drifts to you—the way you’re curled up, comfortable, the way the screen flickers across your face. He doesn’t know why, but he wants to be closer.

The movie ends. You stretch, turning to him with a sleepy smile. “Goodnight, Hinata.”

Before he can stop himself, he leans in and kisses you.

Your breath hitches, but you don’t pull away. You kiss him back, fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer, and before either of you fully register what’s happening, you’re tangled together—breathless, desperate, lost in each other.

By the time you make it to your room, he’s memorizing the way your skin feels under his hands, the way your laughter gets caught in your throat. You sigh his name.

And for the first time since coming to Brazil, Hinata feels like he’s home.

You are happy. Really happy.

Days spent playing, nights spent wrapped up in each other, whispered confessions between laughter. You make promises in the dark, in the spaces between his dreams.

And then—he leaves.

Hinata tells you he’ll come back. Of course he will. How could he not? Brazil changed him. You changed him. He says it with so much conviction that you believe him.

But then the months pass. And pass.

You call. No answer. You text. No response.

Then one day, you see the headline.

“Hinata Shoyo Signs with MSBY Black Jackals”

The picture shows him back in Japan, grinning, surrounded by everything he once dreamed of.

Your hands tremble as you set your phone down. You wait for a message, for anything.

But nothing comes.

And for the first time, you wonder if he ever planned to come back at all.

It happens at a match.

You’re focused on the game, locked in, until you feel it—eyes on you.

When you glance to the side of the court, he’s there.

Hinata, hands shoved in his pockets, watching you like he did that first time.

Your chest tightens.

After the game, he approaches, hesitant but there.

“Hey,” he says softly.

You exhale. “Hey.”

For a long moment, neither of you speak. Then, he swallows. “Can we talk?”

You hesitate before nodding.

The restaurant is quiet. The food is untouched.

Hinata had requested a private room for the two of you, the empty room almost seeming as if it was mocking you. You'd rather be playing volleyball naked, you think.

Anything would be better than this strange form of torture Hinata has put you through.

You stare at your glass, and then the words slip out before you can stop them.

“I waited for you.”

Hinata’s breath catches. His grip tightens around his drink. “I know.”

Your voice wavers. “I waited, and you didn’t come back.”

When you finally look at him, tears are welling in your eyes.

Hinata feels something in his chest break, and before he can think—he’s kissing you.

Between kisses, he mumbles

I missed you.

Missed Brazil.

Missed us.

I love you.

When you pull away, your voice is quiet. “Then prove it.”

And this time—he will.

He swears by it.

trying to get back into multi-fandom writing :) hope this was good!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

Schweiden Adlers🦅

Sticker and keychain at my st0re

— to the wind

teaching is hard. seeing izuku so distressed is harder.

word count: 2.1k

“knock knock.”

izuku sat, head in hand, at his desk. the windows in his classroom hung open, letting the cool breeze sweep through his already messy tufts of hair.

the distressed figure lifted his eyes to meet yours as you stood in the doorway of his class.

three years of teaching together and your routine had become pretty regular. coffee in the morning, passing each other in the hall as you somehow always took a bathroom break at the same time, lunch with the occasional shared grading, and the after school drama debrief until the custodians had to kick you out. high school kids always kept the stories coming to make an entertaining day for the both of you.

lunch was the current time. typically you would find him hanging on the door to your classroom, but instead, he sat ruggedly at his desk. a pencil shoved in his mouth to keep him from chewing his fingers.

izuku’s very obviously tired features lit up when he realized who it was that spoke from his doorway.

“oh, hey.” he responded with a drowsy demeanor.

this was different. and not a good different. as annoying as it was, you were typically the one shut up in your classroom, stewing over time consuming things like grades, itineraries, and everything else in between. izuku was the bright light that shone down on your horrid mindsets, bringing you back to a warm place, if even for a small time. you weren’t used to his personality being so…lackluster.

“you good?”

a long, heavy sigh travelled from his mouth and around the room, filling the already wind soaked air. izuku leaned back into his cushioned chair, pushing his hair back with a large hand. his restless eyes landed on the absolute mountain of paper in front of him and he drew his lips into a tight line. this was his way of communicating silently to you his very issue.

“i feel lost.” midoriya admitted hesitantly.

your feet moved on their own, taking you to sit crisscross on top of a student’s desk that was placed directly in front of his. like always, izuku now had your full attention.

“lost over what?”

he shrugged his shoulders haphazardly, his eyes still stuck on the papers strewn across his desk. this wasn’t a new sight to you or anyone else. izuku was notorious for keeping copious amount of clutter stashed away on his desk that already had limited space. with a brain that went as fast as his all day every day, he found it difficult to find the time to focus on cleaning a meaningless surface when he had countless other things to stress himself out over. but even this was over the top compared to the usual jumbled items.

“it’s just some grades, izuku. i can help you like usual. we can knock it out in no time.” you tried to reassure him.

when he shook his head in response, his stare still fixated on the pile, your stomach turned uncomfortably. midoriya was never one to decline an offer from you. especially because of the system you both subconsciously abided by. in times like this, if one of you offered help then typically the other would buy food, as a treat. after school dinners were a regular occurrence in your relationship.

“it’s not the grades.” his voice was low, “well, i mean, a little bit but, y’know.”

“i actually don’t know. you’re staring holes in those damn papers so i can’t really read you right now.”

your words snapped him out of the weird trance he had found himself in. the wind still blew lightly through his decorated class. the entire room screamed ‘izuku midoriya’. his personality was intertwined seamlessly with his own students’ personal flair. if you were still in school, izuku would have been the teacher you told your future kids about. maybe even been the teacher you thanked in your wedding speech.

the way you perched on the desk in front of his, completely enthralled with your concern for him, made his mouth run dry. even with your expression screwed up with confusion, he could still make out the features on your face that he had reluctantly grown to adore. not a single added wrinkle could deter him, even if that wrinkle was because of a face you directed at him. izuku could feel the guilt brewing in his gut.

“if i asked you something, could you be one hundred percent honest with me?” he asked.

“when am i not?” you responded nonchalantly, your chin resting in a propped hand.

the light chuckle that came from midoriya put your nerves at ease for a single moment. if you could give him an answer in hopes of never having to see him like this again, then you would gladly tell him whatever he wanted to hear.

“am i a bad teacher?”

silence permeated the warm room as you processed his question. in all the years you’d not only been his coworker, but his friend, the thought of him being a bad teacher never even made a shadow in your mind. years of stumbling over yourself to try and be a fraction of who he was as a teacher and a person made this question seem like the stupidest thing you’d ever heard.

“in what world are you a bad teacher?”

izuku crossed his arms onto his desk, leaning his head down as a way to hide from the world.

“what if i’m not doing enough?” his words seemed strained.

“izuku, what the hell are you talking about?”

had a student made a snide comment? maybe a rude gesture? the kids in both of your classes weren’t horrible but they definitely weren’t angels either. the idea of izuku overthinking a mean word from a high schooler seemed totally plausible.

“i’m scared that not a single word i say gets through to them. like, what if they walk out of here when they graduate, stupider than when they came in?” he asked, “not that they were stupid or anything when they came in, y’know, i’m just saying from a general standpo—“

“chill. you’re rambling right now.” you interrupted, which was something you had to do often.

another sigh left his mouth and he turned to gawk out the window. the trees were a beautiful shade of orange, but you weren’t looking at them. you couldn’t. not when midoriya was sitting right in front of you.

“i’m fucking terrified that i’m failing them.” he kept his gaze to the trees that danced in the wind, “i sit here and talk all day, which they don’t care about. grade their papers, which are scarcely up to par. am i doing something wrong? is there more i could be doing to make them want to be here?”

there it was; the classic teacher complex. you would be lying if you said you didn’t have these same aching doubts. any teacher that said otherwise was either perfect or a grade A moron.

“well first of all, you aren’t failing anyone. you’re a great person and an even greater teacher.” you slid off of the place you sat and walked to his desk, leaning on it carefully. you looked out of the window with him, your arms crossed tightly across your chest. “and second of all, those are all normal feelings. i mean, i feel the same almost seventy five percent of the time.”

he shifted his gaze to look at you, his eyes settling on the back of your head, staring in disbelief. he wished he could be as great at his job as you were. your tendency to connect with anyone and everyone brought a sense of jealousy to his mind nearly every day. although, he couldn’t pinpoint why. it’s not like he had trouble in that department.

he took things too seriously, gave himself a hard time over the smallest of things and overthought every situation. izuku was jealous of your ability to fly from the seat of your pants and say ‘fuck it’ if things went awry. granted, it wasn’t fun for you most of the time, but sometimes no plan is better than a strict step by step. this ideal had started to rub off on izuku after so much time spent together, but it was still a work in progress. he was just happy to have a part of you within his own personality at all times.

“yeah, but—“

“there’s no but. that’s just the way it is.” you cut him short.

a third sigh. this was the most exasperated you’d ever seen him. he stood from his comfy chair and leaned on the side of the desk with you. he admired the way the sunlight from the window perfectly complemented your features, outlining your natural beauty utterly and completely.

“you’re a fucking fantastic teacher. you can’t beat yourself up over things that are out of your control.” you turned to meet his eyes, “the kids are here and you’re guiding them. that’s all that matters. the mistakes you feel like you’re making in between won’t mean anything in the next year, let alone tomorrow.”

big green eyes stayed glued to yours, appreciation emanating from his pupils. you always knew exactly what to say, even if your words didn’t fall under the ‘advice’ category half the time.

you uncrossed an arm from your chest to rub comforting circles into your friends’ back. izuku’s muscles immediately loosened under your touch, the tenseness he’d held since this morning melting under your fingertips. he could never have a bad day, not when he knew you were just next door. not when he had the times he would see you written on a sticky note hidden in his desk drawer. after 3 years of faking a bathroom break just to take a glance at you in the hall, he knew you meant more to him than just as a coworker.

a smile sprawled across your face when midoriya gently laid his head on your shoulder with another large sigh. your hand traveled to play with the hair that grew from the back of his head.

“you hungry?”

midoriya nodded his head in response, humming softly as your fingertips lightly toyed with green tufts of hair.

“what did you bring today?” you already knew the answer, but you always asked anyhow.

“you’re actually never going to guess.” he lifted his head to look at you through his lashes.

“let me guess, anyway.”

izuku raised his eyebrows, as if saying ‘please do’ as he watched you feign confusion while you thought.

“hmm, katsudon?”

he shook his head, leaving your jaw to drop open in complete shock.

“you’re joking. since when do you not bring katsudon?”

“since i forgot my lunch at home this morning.”

maybe four other times had he forgot his food, and it was either because he woke up late or was already thinking so much the moment he woke up that his packed lunch slipped his mind.

“that kind of day, huh?” you asked.

“yeah. that kind of day.” he said, his head hung low.

you didn’t spare a word when you walked away from your spot on his desk, leaving the room quickly. midoriya watched after you, his eyes stuck to the door you just walked out of. everyday, he was thankful with how quickly you introduced yourself to him when you both started this job. neither of you could get through a day of teaching if it wasn’t for the other.

the wind caught your hair perfectly as you walked back in, bringing a stupid grin to his already awestruck face.

“tada! lunch is served, my kind fellow.”

there sat your all too familiar lunch box, open and ready to be emptied.

“y/n, i’m not going to to eat yo—“

“the bell is going to ring in 9 minutes and i’m starving. so you can either eat this with me or have your kids make fun of the noises your stomach makes when you’re hungry.” you pulled a chair around to the front of his desk, “you pick.”

a staring standoff that lasted for maybe 6 seconds, leaving you the winner, elicited yet another sigh from your coworker as he walked to his seat and plopped into it.

midoriya carefully eyed you as you brought out item after item, almost as if you packed extra just in case. you both took hold of the plastic forks you’d grabbed from the drawer of your desk. he could tell this was your way of comforting him, and you could tell this was his way of saying thank you. no extra words were needed when you could already read each other well enough.

“anything interesting happen yet?” you asked expectantly, forking a bit of your lunch into your mouth.

“june and lucas broke up.” he laughed out.

there was the man you adored. a smile plastered beautifully on his face as he happily told you about his day so far. you would never let that disappear again.

you listened intently to every word that came from his mouth, both of your shoes playing footsies under his desk.

a/n: okay yeah high school teacher izuku is perfect and hot but i’m about to write a book about elementary school teacher izuku because in my mind that’s literally my husband FAWWWKKKAHG

after black jackals practice 🚿

ʚ FINISH INSIDE HER ?! ɞ

ᡴꪫ sum. what the hell is a full nelson? no worries, luckily underground boxer toji shows you a hands-on demonstration. although, you want choso to try it with you too. not only are you a slut visual learner, but you also think you can take them both - not in a fight though.

wc. 5.8k

warnings. fem! reader, boxer! au, boxers toji & choso, 3sum, choso walks in on you and toji, unprotected, full nelson, manhandling, brief ōral (f + m), quickie, size diff, finger sucking, praise, dirty talk, choking, they fight over you, whiny choso, squırting, impact play, slight nıpple play, premature ejac, spıt.

an. kind of based on this ask!

“upsie daisey, uh huh. biiiiig fuckin’ stretch,” your mouth drops open once your thighs gets sprawled apart. your back slumps back against the fighter — toji, you’ve been training with him for a while. not only were you training with him but you’ve also been a bit of a fan. you mentioned to him on how you wanted to strengthen your ‘flexibility’ a bit more and of course, he had just the right thing to help you. out of curiosity, you asked him about a certain position you watched him perform on his rival, choso kamo. full nelson, it was considered illegal in some rings if not all. toji would always perform a specific choking move where he’d pin choso down with ease, burly buff arms putting him in a head lock - preventing him from moving a single inch. the entire crowd always goes wild at it every single time—so you wanted to try it out for yourself. “easy, easy. don’t tap out on me jus’ yet, okay? y’er a big girl.”

bobbling your head to give him a nod, an airy breeze shoves you back into his chest. the stretchy fabric of his boxing shorts tickle against your skin upon impact. “o- okay,” you breathe, gasping once he hooks two big arms underneath the undersides of your thighs. he’s got such a good taut grip that seconds later, you felt yourself throb a bit at the feverish, hot friction. “you’re not really gonna, heh, choke me out right?”

“not unless y’er into that, princess,” he jibes, a throaty husk of a chuckle leaving out of him. and as you’re spread all out, limbs extended—yeah,

you were probably fucked.

after what seems like hours of meaningless stretches and exercises to prepare your limbs, toji’s finally got you in the position — you were sprawled right in his lap, being in a safe firm chokehold.

his voice was roughly gruff, and as he spreads your legs just a bit further, you feel the cottony bandage that wraps around his arm ghost up against your thigh. his touch was gentle and you intake a sharp breath, further continuing to lean into his touch - his grasp. “mhm, seems like y’er a bit more flexible than i thought. this comfy?”

“no,” you let off a sheepish snort, starting to feel a brief pang on your thighs from the position. to be fair — not only was full nelson uncomfortable but it was dangerous. just one wrong move and snap. but toji was a professional, he’d make sure you’d keep all your pretty little limbs in tact. probably. clearing your throat, your eyes scan around a plethora of trophies and plaques he’s won throughout his career. “but um, have you ever tried this position with no clothes on?”

toji grows quiet, allowing you to lie back on his chest. black curly strands of chest hair fondle against your skin before he murmurs gruffly into your ear. “maybe.”

the growing bulge that hid underneath his boxers had you almost feral. you felt its presence—how it was just there, poking right against your shorts.

you prepare for yet another sharp drawn out breath, taking in his loud axe cologne that wafts through the entire studio. “can we try nude?”

and that was probably dumb to ask.

it was very dumb to ask.

your lewd filthy thoughts loved to make themselves known out of your lips at the worst times. your heart raced the moment you blurted that out, feeling the tips of your ears burn a scorching temperature. he’d say no, you were almost sure of it. you were just a dumb fan who managed to be a favorite, surely he wouldn’t—

“why the hell not,” he snickers, sliding his hands toward the smooth curvature of your hips. “i’ll go easy on ya for today. let’s get rid of these,” he pulls on the string of your panties, already discarding your shorts with such quickness. “i’ll try not ‘ta break you too bad.”

but that was a lie—

not only did he break you but he stretched you out in all the ways possible.

you had the most dumbest expression, tongue lolled out, legs spread, gushing all over the velvet red boxing mat - time and time again.

pink luminescent lighting shine back against the centers of your irises as you stare up at the ceiling’s lights. you’ve never felt so weak. spit slick lips of yours were all swollen and numb from being chewed on constantly like candy. within minutes, your knees were already surrendering, bucking at his very mercy.

“fuck, tooooji.” you’d drag out his name in cute elongated syllables.

the infamous elastic stretch of his cock has you writhe and spasm all over his lap. ludicrously, your voice bounces across the cheap walls of the building. nevertheless, you can’t lie to yourself, you’ve rubbed a few out at the thought of having this moment with your favorite boxer.

unprofessional, maybe. but he didn’t care and neither did you. besides, he was helping you with your flexibility after all. even if it was a bit more intimate than most regular methods.

your heart races, thumping out quick hurried beats as he’s shoving his cock in and out of you. you’re in such a submissive position that you were just a bobble head, a doll. he treated you like one — using your body, bouncing you up and down and manhandling you all over the mat.

he gruffly cackles behind the plushy shell of your ear, watching right before his eyes as you’re jouncing on his dick. your skin was so warm, so hot, the recoil stings for a few seconds before your ass ricochets off his sharp pelvis.

the smacks and paps only grew louder, and so did your sweet melodic moans and whimpers.

a creamy pearl of a ring coats around his base and he grunts, still having a beefy arm around your neck. his muscles flex and you fight the urge to bite his bicep. “easy, good girl. lean right into me. y’er a natural.”

his words went straight to your cunt. toji was a dirty talker, never a sweet talker.

he knew how to get you wet, whether it was with his slick mouth, his tongue, or even his cock. his voice was always so low, timbre and all. the husk that it carried never failed to make you soaked. embarrassing,

oh, it definitely was embarrassing.

he’s got a free hand gripping onto your thigh, kissing your ass with his palm - rough rude spanks.

the cute flinches of your rear bouncing back against his lap makes him slide a tongue over his lips, including sliding over that notorious scar that slides down the right side of his mouth. “fuck, so fuckin’ sloppy. got the mat all soaked. should make ya lick it up, huh.”

you couldn’t even reply . . you tried, but babbles of inaudible squeaks came out instead.

it just felt too good, he felt too good.

you’re panting heavily, the repetitive pop song that blared through the boxing ring’s broken speakers gets stuck in your head. you hear the moist wails of your pussy squelching time and time again, entirely soaking yourself with your own beloved filth. a free hand of toji’s creeps its way in front of you. hand so big that he could easily cover it over your entire face if he could.

with glossy half-lidded eyes, you stare at his palm, feeling your mouth water.

thick long fingers, he knew what he was doing.

toji’s just casually waving his hand around in your face in a slow mesmerizing motion as you bounced on his cock. they were so lengthy and thick, his arms had prodding veins for days. from his wrist to the edge of his arm, you saw the veins poking out. he was so built that you couldn’t help but stare, couldn’t help but drool. “what a sloppy little girl. i could really snap you in half, heh,” he huffs, clenched abs pressing against your back. it’s hard, rock hard . . they feel like bricks.

you knew underground boxers like toji had to keep up a strict workout routine but damn.

“but you’d like that, huh,” he murmurs, bringing another smack to your slick wet folds. you moan at the stretch of your limbs, craving for more of his rude spanks against your swollen cunt. you throbbed from not only his words but his touch too, and the thought of him literally breaking you had you a bit more soaked than you thought it would.

this was a workout of its own - rutting your weight up and down against him. he’s got a secure hold on your body, holding your thighs up in place.

you were stupid, not even acknowledging that you’d already grab ahold of his wrist, stuffing his fingers into your mouth. you moan the second the dry bandaged digits delve past your lips and makings way down your throat. as your ass steadily rocks against him in sloppy rhythm, you feel the very tips of his fingers prod against your puny uvula. you almost gag at the unexpected feeling—a cobwebby trail of saliva that was translucent pours down the side of your parted lips.

“no manners, tch,” he scoffs and his ripped abs continue to brush up against your back. “sloppy baby. got some nerve showin’ up to train being this fuckin’ nasty ‘n soaked.”

the hot skin against skin contact rubbing off against each other had your panties in a bunch, despite them already being technically pulled to the side and abandoned.

you were already still sensitive, swollen achy cunt sobbing out its own pleas of pleasure.

haphazardly, your knees buckle and he snatches his fingers out of your mouth. he does this solely to get a taste himself, swirling his pink pointed tongue against his slippery digits all thanks to you. “startin’ ‘ta think you came here for more than to just get an autograph ‘n work out with me, pretty girl.”

and as the plump crown of his cock molds you a tiny brief bulge from just his size alone — it repeatedly thrashes up against your sweetest spot. you shudder, about to collapse backward before you hear the jingling bells of the front door sound off.

“h- hey, toji man. did i leave my . . gloves . . ?”

choso, toji’s rival and regular training partner stares at the erotic scene and his face twists.

“oh,” and he’s flustered right away.

you stop bouncing and your eyes widen as big as saucers—yet, you weren’t even embarrassed. you were in awe, you knew all about choso kamo.

the choso kamo, anyone would be crazy not too. he was the most recent up and coming boxer, and after beating toji with a brutal close score of 58-57.

as you’re reclined back against toji—you finally get a good look at the other dark haired boxer.

he was slim yet also well built, choso was known for fighting opponents with his iconic ponytails but as of currently - he started to wear his hair down. sometimes he’d pin it up, a bit of a wolf cut that flew down his broad shoulders.

as his bashful gaze met yours, he grew nervous. very nervous.

black sable hued shorts cling onto his hips whilst he was shirtless, a few past battle scars painting the entire canvas of his perfectly chiseled body. “am i . . interrupting something?”

“nah. c’mere, ‘cho,” a husky voice calls out and he pauses in his tracks. the air suddenly clouded its way with imaginary thick smoke of lust and tension. it’s so thick you could cut it with a knife.

he swallows—dragging his bare feet across the crimson red mat toward you both, ducking underneath the stretchy multicolored bars before gawking at you. he was far pretty up close once he entered the practice ring, he runs a hand behind his neck before averting his eyes away from your nude body out of respect.

“he’s always been kinda shy,” toji purrs to you, still buried deep into your cunt. you shiver, every movement he makes makes—even just sitting up makes you let off a soft noise. you chew the inside of your cheek, feeling a stickiness stick between your thighs. dark green eyes flicker at choso and he hums, tilting his head. “choso, you know how to do full nelson too, yeah?”

“y- yeah, of course i do why?”

“you’re avoiding eye contact again.”

choso gulps - burying his hands into the burrows of his shorts pockets. a sheet of sweat marinates across his forehead before he glances at toji, rephrasing. “eh, yeah i know how to do full nelson. why?”

“because,” toji smacks his lips, a hand prying its way between the valley of your legs. you moan, still feeling full from tepid hot dumps of his cum practically oozing out of your puffy slit. “we’ve got a new opponent ‘n she wants to experience what it’s really like on the ring.”

“toji, we do full nelson all the time,” choso timidly runs a bundle of fingers through his buzzed undercut, a timid smile curling against his lips. “we never usually do it um . . naked though.”

the boxer underneath you deadpans. he could be so dense, choso stands still before a small gasp wrenches out of his pink glossed lips.

“oh.. oh,” and his face turns into a flustered tint.

you’ve watched a bit of his interviews and it seemed not only was he shy with the press but he was also very shy in person. it was cute, regardless.

as you’re busy being trapped up in your own thoughts, choso can’t help but peek down toward your legs. you were all exposed and being stretched out by his rival. he sucks his teeth in longing, briefly staring away before feeling himself grow a bit . . aroused. “i feel disrespectful for looking, ‘m sorry.”

“no, it’s okay,” you murmur in coy reassurance, and a hand tugs onto his wrist. choso’s breath hitches at your touch, and you felt his dark eyes flicker back toward you. there’s this look in choso’s eyes, it’s mainly lust-driven. his pupils were blown and his heart raced, you looked so pretty. it’s not like he didn’t exactly not know you. he’d see you every so often when you were ‘training’ with toji. not only that but he’d spot you attending almost every boxing match. always in the front row with a vip lanyard. secretly, you were more of a choso fan but toji didn’t have to know that. “do you wanna touch me too?”

“yes,” he blurts out almost right away and his face flushes a deeper shade. a rumble from toji shakes his shoulders - he’s chuckling, and you feel a big arm wrap around your torso. you bite down on your lip, still feeling yourself sit in a creamy puddle of filth, warm cum still plugged into you. choso starts to pant, watching you slither a hand between your thighs, spreading your soppy pussy lips. “i mean.. oh, that’s..” and he’s barely able to think straight, watching as you toy with yourself whilst still being full of toji’s thickset cock. his head starts to spin before he inches closer, kneeling down after your cute hand gestures to come here. “a- are you sure you want me to—”

“it’s okay, go ahead.” you hum, guiding his wrist.

“choso, she’s not gonna bite ya,” toji snickers, bringing your legs back down. as of now — you were currently straddling him with your back facing his chest. choso rubs his neck once more, growing sheepish yet again. it’s adorable, but again, he’s seen you at his matches and face offs. choso being choso though was far too shy to say anything or thank you for your support. but now, maybe he could thank you in another way. toji crosses his arms, cocking his head as he glances at the scene. “atta boy.”

a scowl forms on the timid boxer as his fingers resume to brush up against your drooling cunt. “s- shut up, toji,” and you let off a moan at his gentle strokes. you continue to lie back against toji - staring at choso, ogles as two plump fingers of his partner’s play up and down against your soddened entrance. choso’s mouth starts to water the more he stares, admiring how full you were—you had a few remnants of toji’s cum oozing from your slit and he swipes it up, bedaubing it against your pussy to make it sheeny again. “f- fuck, you’re so pretty.”

“you can t- touch me more, choso,” you lightly pause his hand by grabbing his wrist. his eyes meet yours and he felt the tent in his boxers tighten. oh, he was already whipped from the sound of your voice. with half lidded smoky eyes, he huffs out a single breath before glancing at your lips. you climb off of toji and a brief pop exits your cunt - dragging choso closer. “are you hard, choso?”

“he’s definitely hard,” toji tchs, averting his jade green eyes toward his partner’s shorts. it was hard to not notice the presentable bulge that’s sticking right in front of his leather everlast brand shorts. “cute.”

“shut up man,” he repeats with a glowering scowl.

with a cute dramatic sigh, choso grumbles something under his breath - trying to pay more attention back toward you. he leans into your touch, closing the gap between your legs until he’s right between you. choso presses a chaste kiss against your collarbone before moaning into your tender skin. he couldn’t help but suck against your shoulder for a few seconds, relishing in your candied flavor.

you were so sweet - bandaged hands roam everywhere on your displayed body before he exhales deeply, staring at you with almost heart shaped pupils. “you . . wanna try full nelson with me too, princess?”

throwing your arms over him, you hum with a subtle nod. “yeah, ‘s okay. i can handle it.”

famous last words,

with choso . . he stretched you all the way out, probably even more than toji.

his cock was just as thick, maybe even more. his fat reddened tip swelters the inside of your sopping pussy so good until you’re whimpering his name on constant loop. it’s like a mantra, you’re so dumb that it’s like his five lettered name was the only thing your brain could comprehend to say.

he’s got you upright in the same exact position before, slinging two beefy arms underneath your thighs as your weight bounces and defies gravity.

“fuck, fuck,” he whines, the addictive squeeze your cunt had never failed to make itself known. he reached any and every area so deep. choso had a delicious curve to his cock that sent you straight butterflies. it expands through your walls, french kissing your insides until you whine. his base was repeatedly getting smacked from your ass, each ‘n every time you jerked up from his lap. “y- you’re so good. so warm, ‘m gonna pass out.”

“aren’t you the boxer though?” you try to tease, but your cheeky voice falters the second his slitted tip kisses against that spot.

your vision was merely blurry, seeing nothing but a kaleidoscope of stars. in almost defeat, your head falls back against his chest and toji watches the entire time, buff arms crossed and an amused cunning expression. seeing you milk his rival was something he didn’t know would turn him on so much.

choso doesn’t reply to your little jest, still pumping such fat inches inside of your gripping walls. he’s already dumb, knocked out cold with a solid punch - not necessarily from an opponent, but your pussy. “hang onto me, ‘kay? this position requires lots of um . . s- stamina.”

as you nod, your entire body dangles and bobs from the movement — parching hot friction gluing against each jolting limb before you spasm.

“chosoooo,” and your thighs collapse, coming to its pleasurable demise. his thrusts were sloppy, the squelches of your own body was so lewd. you heard it through and through, glancing down to see yourself flutter and clench around his cock. “fuck, fuck ‘m gonna get close again.”

“wait,” a gruff voice murmurs and you glance up to see toji standing over you. he cups your chin, a thumb caressing your quivering bottom lip. “such a empty mouth. hm, open for me, pretty. think you could use some throat training too.”

as choso’s still plummeting his cock into your swollen cunt - stretching you out dexterously, you part your lips open.

by your surprise, toji’s lips meets yours and he pulls you into a deep kiss. it’s a bit of a rushing kiss, sloppy and strings of saliva tangling between each mouths. you moan, feeling the weight of your breasts bounce as you’re making haste on the other boxer’s lap. fuck, you were quite literally living the dream. you whimper, feeling his broad hands grab against your tits, using thumbs to push squeeze pressure against your perky nipples. he was always so handsy, allowing his hands to wander everywhere and yanking against the remaining pathetic pieces of fabric that covered your body.

you were still layered . . partially,

his rough scarred hands slide underneath your blouse as he’s continuing to make out with you, curling his parted tongue beside your own before it turns into obscene sucking. your own tongue occasionally scrapes against his scar that located directly near the right side of his mouth - it tickles a bit—however, you whimper once choso’s dick created its own little kisses against your g-spot.

abruptly, toji who was just claiming your mouth a few seconds ago pulls away from the continued kiss to grip underneath your chin again. “ah, say ah,” and he hums at your obedience, staring at your pretty pink tongue rolling out of your mouth flat. “good, ‘m gonna train this throat a little bit for ya, sweets. that alright?”

“o- okay,” and you’re briefly cut off once he springs out his cock again, thwacking his pink pearly tip against your tongue. he lets off a gruff satisfied grunt, feeling himself harden up once you flick your tongue against his slit. you’re slow, making sure to savor his taste. he watches, smacking his lips and his left brow curls.

toji bites his lip, his abs curlings as he watches you try to suck him of fully — he smacks his cock all against your face softly, watching your needy pout before humming. “such a needy cock hungry slut,” and a thumb swipes against your lip, preparing to insert his hardened shaft down your throat. “aw, you want more, do ya?”

you nod before moaning, feeling choso kiss down your neck, yearning for your attention.

“y- you’re doing so good,” choso whines against your ear, clinging onto your jerking body. “ngh, don’t listen to toji. he’s just mean.”

toji rolls his eyes. he’d reply with a sassy remark but he was still feeling the after effects of sensitivity. his muscles were all tense and spasming from you just bouncing on him just a few minutes ago. you’re just grinding onto choso, feeling your hips ridiculously buckle and snap before he smears his cockhead against your lips like it was lipstick. his plump tip goes against your wet lips, only for him to smack it against your clean pink tongue. “mmph.” you lashes flutter, ogling as he buries a few fingers into your scalp for a good grip. toji grunts, briefly tossing his head back in rapture. his scent grows stronger as he gradually starts to sink his way into your mouth.

“t- toji, ‘m gonna cum. i can’t last,” choso babbles, facial expressions scrunching up the more you quicken your tempo on his lap. toji glances at choso who’s melting right underneath you — he’s got you in a secure hold, but it’s lazy.

one of his arms sling around your torso, another holding onto your thigh. “fuck,” he sucks against your neck, feeling the stretch increase. your walls were his own worst enemy, preparing to milk him for all of his worth. everything felt hot, his throat felt dry and he’s starting to shake right underneath you. “gonna cum, gonna c- cum.”

“not yet, ‘cho,” he grunts, watching as you lean in, adjusting your throat to his heavy size. your tongue swirls around the peeling slit and he huffs, a single hand tightening its hold against the roots that stick onto your scalp. “mhm, look at me. don’t worry about him, he’s just a crybaby,” and you can hear choso let off a scoff from behind you. toji’s sensitive cock was still dribbling a bit with a concoction of your previous juices and he groans at the image of you lapping it right up. “c’mon, little deeper. i wanna feel that slutty roof.”

whilst you’re having your mouth and cunt filled entirely—choso’s whining pitches louder and louder. so loud that it reverbs all throughout the thin walls of the empty boxing arena. thankfully, there wasn’t anyone here and it was usually closed on saturdays. he didn’t like be edged, he hated it.

but it felt good,

so fucking good.

especially due to the fact that he was so close to you, hearing your sweet whimpers follow in sync with his.

your voice made his cock twitch and from the inside, you felt it all.

every frantic spasm - you felt it, not to mention the few lightning type veins that run down the upward curve of his cock, you felt that too.

you rocked against him until your knees were at its last. he’s still holding you up but even he was about to tap out. choso had stamina - but he was no match for his rival, toji.

with murky low eyes—toji’s staring dead at you, bobbling your head and merely shoving you down just a little deeper.

you get sloppy, a puddle of drool trickling down the corners of your chin and down the valley of your chest before his tip hits against the roof of your mouth again.

it’s a rough rude hit and his cock gives the very back of your throat its own few jabs. a combo if you will — yet it’s more raunchy instead of sportsmanlike.

“eyes on me baby. yeah, yeah,” toji turns your head a bit, locking onto your sweet gaze. “get it wet, clean it up for me. make me just as much of a mess as you, girl.”

his words were so low - an almost growl. you were too focused on toji that you concisely forgot about the other boxer that’s sat underneath you.

choso came and it was so sudden—he couldn’t hold it anymore.

his grip weakens and he slouched back against the ring, spurts of hot cum pouring into you deep. he’s trembling, feeling a wave crash down on him as he’s succumbing to his high. choso can’t help but try to mimic toji, swatting the palm of his hand softly against your ass. even his spanks were respectful.

the worn out boxer pants, letting off an adorable finish. his vocals were quite loud despite having a deep bellow. “baby oh, fuuuck,” he mewls out, dark brows coming together. choso was about to lose it even more at the feeling your swiveling hips throwing itself around in a circle just because. toji watches the entire thing, how you were teasing his partner whilst having your mouth all stuffed full. as he’s stood tall before you both, his abs clench and you get a face view of it all. perfectly incised along the edges, you saw a few marks and scars coat against his skin and it’s never been more attractive. choso on the other hand found his hands grabbing onto your tits, gently brushing a thumb against your sensitive nipples before nuzzling into your neck. he was definitely pussy drunk — you could hear it. “babyyy,” a soft voice whines pussy drunkly against the lobe of your ear, and you depart your lips away from toji’s cock. he groans, viewing you lie back before you start to twitch out a bit yourself.

not only was choso close but so were you. as your legs were all stuck up in the air in its ideal position, you dramatically gasp once you feel it.

there’s a tugging pile of pressure that presses down on your tummy. your jaw drops—dangles and everything as you’re being pushed further toward the edge. your arousal steadily builds up until it finally comes.

just seconds apart from choso, you pant - a brief pang of electric shock ascending down right through you. you were speechless for a moment.

there’s nothing but a white noise blaring through each of your ears. it feels like an unpredictable wave, a powerful wave that ripples right through your entire body. it took you a long time to realize you were finishing - not only finishing but you were squirting.

“ohmygodddd,” you whimper out, feeling your legs vigorously shake. you gush out right onto the mat. feeling yourself grow hot — you’re even hotter because of choso’s body underneath you.

effortlessly, bodies stick against each other, snuggling in filthy warmth. as you’re leisurely coming to a halting stop of your rhythmic hips, choso’s cock remained tuck inside of you and you catch your breath, head cutely flopping back against his bare chest.

“did . . did you just squirt on me?” choso whimpers, a tremor in his voice.

his voice, it grew a bit raspier. although, you could still hear the softness lingering underneath it.

toji leans in toward you both, spreading your legs open just a bit more - he strums a calloused thumb down your opening, peering as you’re still fluttering out of arousal and was still sopping wet all the way from your needy clit.

“she fuckin’ did,” he coos, and he leans down, getting right on his knees.

you watch with low hooded eyes, still feeling surges of nirvana and euphoria overtake your body. toji purrs in contentment, wide open palms slapping against the foamy ring mat before sticking out his lengthy rosy tongue. you’re catching irregular heavy breaths right along with choso, full lungs preparing to collapse and give out before you pulse.

the moment toji drags his long tongue over the dampened spot of where you just made a mess—you felt yourself throb yet again.

so nasty, he had no shame at all. choso watched too, and he felt the exact same way as you did.

“what a mess,” and with another throaty chuckle leaving his lips, he cleans the mat off entirely before going between your legs. you moan, his palm gifting your cunt with a single abrupt spank. you’re so drenched that a few spurts of your slick coat onto his hand. toji stares at it, scoffing. “pussy tryin’ to talk back i see,” and he rubs his hand in a circular rotation against your cunt, maneuvering all kinds of shapes with his palm. you whimper, grabbing onto choso’s wrist. in awe, toji watches as dumps of cum ooze out of your opening and he even licks that up too, sticky black hair all unkempt and gluing against his forehead. the thin black bangs that run down his brows gives him a more alluring look and he hums, darkened eyes meeting his partner’s. “choso. don’t be a zombie. c’meree.”

you were definitely fucked—

being laid out, defeated and just stupidly stupid.

your legs sprawl outward as they’re both right between them. taking turns, flicking tongues of each against your swollen cunt. they took fighting over you to an entire new level. as they were drinking you dry — you couldn’t help but imagine the lewd thought of taking them both at the same time. you’d probably get crushed, you could barely even handle one as is, but two? that’d be an actual knockout for real.

as you’re still in a trancing daze, you watch both of the boxers with wide rounded eyes, grabbing both of them by the hair. there’s choso who’s really sweet and gentle, giving your pussy soft kitten kisses, softly brushing a thumb down your slit.

and then there’s toji . .

the clit biter - opposite of choso being the clit kisser, he doesn’t care.

with ravened brows furrowing up, he’s so rude to your pussy. every few seconds, he’d tenderly nibble against your pulsating nub, knowing that you’re sensitive there. with a smug grin, he shifts his eyes at you to stare at you dead in the face whilst he’s right between your legs. he’s messy too, moving his head from side to side, his scar swipes against your cunt every now and then.

not only was he messy but he was a hogger. he slurps you clean, luxuriating the tasteless flavor on his tongue before he hears choso cutely huff out in frustration.

“toji, you’re hogging her. ‘s no fair,” he grunts, dark eyes catching a glimpse at him from his hazy peripherals.

“cry ‘bout it,” and he spits on your cunt, hooked bump of his nose rubbing all against your slit.

already - toji’s chin was drenched, and so was choso’s. they both match with a slick of your sheeny arousal dripping down their perfectly chiseled chins. about a good hour had probably passed — then again, you were too dumb to acknowledge the time. all you knew was that you were soaked. you whimper, being nothing but a stiff shivering mess as they devoured you whole.

the numbness in your legs had your back rising up in ecstasy. you wanted more. sloshing slick tongues thrash and glissade against each other before they eventually . . tangle.

toji groans, accidentally meeting with choso’s lips and its brief. his eyelashes open and he has a sly smile at his rival. you watch the entire thing, the timid boxer versus the smug one. toji’s hand still remains on your folds and he’s multitasking, seductively licking choso’s bottom lip - still locking his gaze on him. he’s starting to taking his attention off of you. “hm, don’t tell me you wanted attention from me ‘n not her this entire time, ‘cho.”

a lump gets caught in his throat. choso grows flustered, hearing his own pulse shoot out through his ears as his lips made contact against his rival. “i—”

he’s hard, flaccid still, but definitely hard. there was a loud silence once a smack noise leaves there lips the second they each depart. choso’s got a pout, a longing pout before he tries to act tough.

“shut up, toji.” he grouses, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“how ‘bout ya make me,” and you’re just sat there dumbfounded with your legs still sprawled as if you weren’t just being fought over - invisible questions marks pop up everywhere over your head. what about you? what about you. with quick reflexes, he pins choso flat down on his back before snickering, having the most lewd back arch imaginable.

“our re-match is tonight after all, pretty boy.”