"it's All In Your Head" Correct! Unfortunately I Am Also In There

sex. they do that. a lot.

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

dynamight and izuku

cutest kittys evaaaaaaar

Bed Chem - T.F.

Synopsis. No, you’ve never gone through a heat. No, your big bad neighbor, Toji Fushiguro, hasn’t had a rút in years. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive when all that changes with your…bed chem.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! Toji, OMÉGAVERSE AU, slight enemies-to-Iovers, rúts, breéding, MARATHONS, cúmplay, búlges, Toji is BIG, heats, face-sítting, 69, spítting, praise, oraI (f + m), knottíng, he goes FÉRAL, DÚMBIFICATION, one use of “ma’am”, fated mates, matíng bites, p talking, breaking furniture, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 9.9k (whoops)

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

“-oh! And, darling, my friend recently showed me this new serum that could-”

“-help with my…condition, huh?” You’re finishing off, teeth grit almost as hard as your fingers were around your glaring phone. “Mom- I’ve already told you that I want nothing to do with those sketchy inducers. I’d rather stay dormant like this forever.”

There’s slight static crackling from the other end of the line, “I’m just so worried for you, especially with that massive alpha-”

“Who? Wait- Toji?” You’re braving out a chuckle, gut clenching at the memory of your utterly hot new neighbor and his muscles upon drool-worthy muscles. “Y’know, the doctor has already determined that it’s impossible for me to go into my first heat now.”

And despite it all, you can’t help but drink in a deep inhale the moment you step foot into your cozy local convenience store. Only for your senses to be met with…nope. Nothing, again.

“Besides-” Fingers hovering over that angry red End button, you’re speed-walking your way as inconspicuously as possible towards the Heats and Ruts aisle. “-Toji doesn’t have ruts.”

Well… 

Nobody ever said that you weren’t a hypocrite - but, hey, you were desperate at this point. 

Even if you had to consider another one of your mom’s attempts to artificially induce your inner omega into finally putting in the work.

With your goodbyes hastily muttered, and your phone stowed deeply away into one of your pockets, you find yourself slowing down near that one particular section of the Omega shelves. Gulping at the somewhat-shady inducer portion that you found yourself familiar with ever since you’d reached late puberty without a single heat. 

It was ridiculous, but it wasn’t impossible. 

Mandatory school bloodwork revealed you to be an omega - yet, you felt like anything but that. Anything but what you supposedly were as you watched more and more of your fellow omega classmates miss out on a week or two of school to deal with their heats. 

Consoling you with pitying glances and half-hearted complaints that alpha scents were annoying anyway. But you didn’t care if the pheromones were obnoxious, and the cycles even more so.

Your months just came and went by without any of it.

You’d visited many fertility and growth doctors over the years, and not a single one had been able to pinpoint exactly what was blocking you from accessing the pheromones and biology that everyone else could. That you wanted to. 

Hell, even betas were said to have at least a faint ability to smell wafting clouds of musky perfumes.

Most professionals claimed that everything was as it should be, that you might just be dormant - a late-bloomer, if you will. A very, very late bloomer. 

A majority presented at the start of puberty, or perhaps - in only very rare, alleged cases you found on barren forums - after meeting their fated mate. Two souls bound to fill in each other’s missing pieces. 

The theory was something you let yourself indulge in guilty sips, the sort of fantasy that flashed through your mind right before you wound up with yet another heartbreak.

But after graduating college without a mere half-sign of anything to do with your second gender, you vehemently called bullshit on that one. 

Some suggested that you might merely be a beta in disguise. It was almost comforting to think that it might have all been one big mix-up, yet, every medical test after medical test you’d done always came out the same. 

An omega.

“Damn second genders.” You’re grumbling, traitorously curious fingerpads skimming over the sterile boxes of medicines with official-sounding names. You’d tried out a few with the least amount of side-effects before, and it always ended up being a waste of your time (and your paycheck.) “Damn- damn inducers-”

CLACK!

In your reveried haste a few unstable boxes of products found themselves plonking onto the ground. Wincing at the withering glare of the manager unhelpfully peeking in from a few aisles down, you urgently dropped to your knees to put them back-

“Damn, what did those scented lotions do to you? Remind me not to get on your bad side, doll.” 

You see him before you hear him - strong, engulfing hands motioning into your field of vision to dexterously grab at the mess you’d created. 

And then once you hear him it isn’t any better, because you could recognize that richly rumbling baritone anywhere. 

“Wha-” Cutting your own self off with a strangled mess of a yelp the moment your furrowed gaze looks with viridescent eyes. “-oh.”

Oh? Oh?

Toji Fushiguro quirks up one brow in a way that is unfairly attractive, sultry scar engraved onto one side of his sleazy grin tilting up ever-so-slightly. And was that- a dimple? “Heh- n’ the pretty girl says oh. Cat got your tongue, sugar?”

It’s only then that you’re realizing that this was the first time you’d ever been so…close with the man himself. 

Usually settling for grumbling conversations from your doorstep and incoherent text conversations from his toddling, cherub-faced son stealing Toji’s phone.

So ah, there was one thing you’d forgotten to mention to your mother. Sure, you might have let it slip that Toji was…ruggedly handsome - all Herculean physique, a glossy black Harley Davidson bike, and long legs that carried him well over six feet - but you’d always omitted one thing. 

He was just so cocky.

And you can already feel your blood curdling strangely in your veins, scoffing out a heated puff of breath. “Nah, more like the alpha in the Omega section is.” Darting your eyes anywhere but at the strain of Toji’s sinful compression shirt sneaking winking at you underneath his leather jacket, practically painted onto the ridges of his washboard abs. “Thinkin’ of a secondary gender change, Toji?”

“Ah, yeah yeah-” He’s rolling those hooded eyes, leaning in so pointedly close that you can practically feel his slow, seeping look up and down. “-got tired of havin’ cute lil’ omegas falling all over f’me.”

You scramble to finally stand, “You wish.”

The bout of husky snickers that escape from him make your thighs squeeze together, and Toji’s promptly following you to place back all those fallen lotions. “‘Course I do. That n’ the brat is out on a trip with his lil’ pink-haired friend, m’just killing time.” Tilting his head at you, “You? Thinking of going for alpha? Or…” Crossing his big, beefy forearms, and he must know the effect that has on you and your greedily ogling eyes. “-an alph-”

“Just this.” You’re cutting him off before Toji could fray at your sanity even more, holding up that heat-inducing serum your mother had mentioned. 

But, oh.

Oh.

That wasn’t the expression you’d expected on the handsome face of Toji Fushiguro. Maybe something more smug, perhaps even amused as he realized your little predicament- but never this.

Eyes stony, sharp jaw clenching with a jumpy little tick. And Toji’s fingers are so thick when they pluck the box cleanly off your hands, the split-second graze of his burning skin making you feel almost feverish.

“This trash? Yer takin-” He’s glaring down at the serum as if it had offended him personally five times over. Something about the utter look of discontent makes your chest burn, “-this trash?”

You find yourself defensive, “N-no. At least, not yet. What about it-”

“Because s’gonna ruin your inner workings that’s what.” And for all the world, you never expected to be getting lectured by Toji Fushiguro of all people on your health - though, one look at his sculptured body should have told you all you need to know about just how seriously he takes it. “Don’t even know why s’on the market. S’not good for ya, mama.”

And you knew that. Probably. But ah, the things you do when you’re at your ropes end. “And? I’ve never had a single heat my whole life, y’know?”

“And I should know, bratty doll.” Toji murmurs, throwing that oh-so-famed miracle serum haphazardly back onto the shelf and flipping off the manager who glares at him. “Haven’t had a single rut in years, not since Megumi’s- anyways, all these inducers here are full of shit.”

“Oh.”

Wrapping a staggering arm around your waist to guide you, your body practically burns. Weird. “Tch- silly girl.”

Two peas in a pod.

Before you know it, you’re being dragged by a disgruntled Toji away from the treacherous clutches of the Heats and Ruts aisle and past the cashier - who only smiles as you so-very-subtly sneak in a long whiff of the air. 

Again. Nothing. 

With the stinging pang of disappointment, you sigh as you step outside. Only for Toji to rub your back with a hum, “S’alright. You’ll be alright, sugar- you’re my strong girl, huh?” Eyes widening at just how…sweet Toji was being. That is, before he opens his mouth once more- “Besides. Who needs inducers when you’ve got such a big strong alpha-”

“Pass.”

“Don’ act like ya don’t like it, little miss neighbor. I see how ya look at me.”

“I- I don’t-” You did. And you do. And you will - in fact, you were looking at him that way right now as Toji swings over one thick thigh to straddle the padded leather seat of his prized Harley Davidson. Looking like he’d just stepped out from your wettest of dreams and it makes you almost simper out a sigh.

He’s jutting his head back at the tempting extra space behind him, and you could already hear the suggestion oozing into his next words. “Mhm— whatever ya say, girl. Now stop just standing there looking pretty n’ get over here, I’m a busy man.”

It’s almost as if on auto-pilot when you do.

Toji Fushiguro’s motorbike was big, and just as intimidating as he was. And it’s only on shaky legs that you manage to press yourself only mere precarious inches away from his hulking form. “Heh, ‘er name’s Harley. Fitting for a bike, huh?”

“If- if you crash I’ll kill you.” You’re puffing out a few thickly muffled words through the sleek matching black helmet he was deftly putting on you. Wondering just what led you to be…here of all places. 

“Yes ma’am, I’ll help ya hide the body.”

“M’serious- no funny business.”

“Uh huh, anything else, mistress?”

“And I’ve seen you run red lights so no-”

SMACK!

Your heart stutters with a loud ba-dump! as Toji’s rounded, calloused fingertips leave a good smack against the side of your thigh to get your yammering mouth to halt. And he’s letting off a titter at the shocked expression of your face even through the tinted helmet before turning to rest his hands on the handlebars. 

“Hold on tight.”

It’s all the warning you get - and, honestly speaking, you don’t think any sort of warning could’ve prepared you for the way that Toji rides. 

Something about it is so attractive. 

Maybe it was the creaking stretch of leather as his biceps strained against it from underneath, maybe the way your ears ring with his words even louder than the growl of the bike, maybe it was the way that you were holding him.

Arms stretching to connect over Toji’s broad front, your skin mushes against the curvaceous mounds of his toned pecs. Firm and warm. So, so warm that you can’t help the way that your eager self was mindlessly inching ever-so-slightly closer-

“Phew.” Startling - but not moving away - at the low whistle that Toji blows out, eyes still trained weaving through traffic. “Dangerous game yer playin’, omega.”

Sidling even closer, the defined angles of his back muscles only flexed at the innocent smooch of your tits. “What?”

“S’fucking close.” And not just to him, but to his scent glands. So sensitive and prickling the shaggy black hair at the base of Toji’s neck just from your heated proximity. Huh, strange. “S’a damn good thing I ah- don’t get my ruts, huh?”

And, suddenly, you’re despising what these helmets hide from you. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t get my heats, huh?”

The exact same words playing over and over in your minds once Toji’s braking to a stop at his designated spot right outside your apartment building. And part of you almost feels upset that this little ride with him was over. 

Letting him do as he pleases when he’s seating around gruffly to take off both your helmets himself, you couldn’t help but notice that something about the air seemed…thick. Like it had just been dipped in candy and right now you were gladly suffocating in the sugary sweetness. 

Your eyes catch onto a lock of deep black that’d curled behind Toji’s ear - and you knew right then and there that something was wrong, you knew that you weren’t thinking. That you weren’t listening to your common sense. 

Because before you can stop yourself - before you can even register it - you’re swiping away the stray tuft, sensory curves of your fingertips just catching onto the skin above where Toji’s smooth glands should be.

“Fuh-fuck-” He’s hissing, willowy eyes curtaining behind a scrunch of his lids, and it’s almost as if on instinct that his thick digits fly upwards to trap your hands right there. “Hold on- just a little, mama-” Pressing down even tighter, and the way that Toji’s letting his head tumble back makes your mouth lacquer with a syrupy wave of drool. “-s-so you said you haven’t had a heat in years-”

“Ever.”

“-ever, huh?” Dewy whirlpools of his eyes examine you, and suddenly you feel like running away. But Toji only grins, “Say, why don’tcha scent me?”

Your maw falls slack with a hot shudder, and you’re not sure if it’s in shock or if it’s from how much you wanted it. To have an alpha offering himself on a silver platter - let alone Toji. Letting out an eloquent, “Wh-what?”

You’re being reeled in even closer with a tug of Toji’s strengthened hands, plummeting onto his chest with a cushioned oof–! He only repeats, breathing bated like he didn’t want to know anything himself until you did. “Scent me, pretty girl.”

“I-I don’t know why-” Your fingers unlatch, and you swear it makes Toji’s chest rumble with a low whimper. Steadily planting them onto the collar of his overpriced jacket to pull. “But if this is your idea of a- oh.”

Shit.

Shit.

And something…is different. There. 

Was- was this how he smelled? This heady concoction of jasmine and something so undeniably…Toji? 

Something snaking and boiling bubbles up throughout your body, you all but slump yourself into his eagerly awaiting arms. You can’t even register what you’re doing, nuzzling into his tender throat. Can’t even recognize the look on your face when you’re gasping in greedy heavals of what was obviously his scent.

That you could smell.

With a gasp, you’re pulling away, eyes diverting to him and- oh, it was much the same for him.

There was no other explanation for the lecherous look of devastation on Toji’s pretty features right about now. 

Scarred lips parting in awe, weighty lids drooping down until those heart-eyes him were almost invisible, face veiled with a delicate flush. His palms find their way to rest on the dip of your hips and stay there.

You’re croaking out, “T-Toji-”

It happens so fast - too fast. 

It’s as if your mere voice was enough to send a zillion volts of electricity shattering down Toji’s spine, jolting him with something darkly visceral. Enough to snap up one tannish forearm and bite-

“Ngh-” Toji’s pearly canines coat with a slight tinge of red, eyes shuttering open - and you notice that they seem slightly less glassy now. Slightly. “-fuck ya really are dangerous, doll. Was almost g’na have me take you right here right now.” The slight dip of his strawberry-pink tongue as Toji pulls away makes you gulp, “N’ I don’ wanna spend my first rut in years here.”

.

.

.

Toji couldn’t think - he couldn’t breathe. And if he was any lesser man he’d have fallen to his knees with only one whiff of your candyland smell. 

Addictive. 

Fingers clutched tightly underneath the plush of your thighs to carry you all the way in through your cozy apartment. Never faltering. Never slowing. You could almost roll your eyes at the blatant reminder of strength if you didn’t feel so feverish.

Toji’s steely eyes light up at the way your trembly fingers clutch the silken hem of your skirt, lips wobbling with every spilling word. “T-Tooooji, feels so hot.”

“S’that so?” He’s swiping the regal button of his nose down where the sides of your neck were swollen, breathing in the hot, sugary waves emanating from your skin. “Feel anything else?”

And the slight hitch of your breath is all that he needs as an answer, well, that and the goopy wetness that was formulating between your thighs. Shit, he never thinks he’s kicked down a door off its hinges harder than he has to your poor bedroom door. 

Draping you gently onto the plethora of silken sheets, you whine at the slight recoiling bounce.

Barely even given the time to gather your wits before Toji’s sliding his jacket and his t-shirt teasingly off, all thick, muscled limbs stalking towards you like a predator that’d just cornered his favorite prey. And you eye his rippling back, his rumbling tone speaking over your mattress’ creaks. 

“Ya better know…” he’s hurling out, mouth just only centimeters away from yours. Hot. “-m’not here ta fuckin’ play around jus’ cause you’re in heat, sugar.”

Ah, that’s what it was - heat. You were in heat. Fuck. 

Your fingers leave neatly indented semi-circles on his flesh when Toji’s grasping your throat tightly, padded ends of his fingers pressurizing right onto the treasure trove of your scent glands. “If I fuck you now, you will be mine. You and…” Before one largely crowned kneecap of his sidles into the snug cove of your pussymound. Weighing down- “...her.”

It’s the only thing you could do to bat your lashes up at him in a way that makes Toji’s achy cockhead twitch. “I want you…wan’ you to touch me, Toji–”

And that’s all that he ever wanted. 

Roughened hands shove you meanly back onto the cushy bed, and Toji’s sliding his palms languidly down, down, down every curve and dip on your body. As if he was trying to worship you with them. 

“Oh? Only wan’ me to touch ya?” Toji’s humming, Adam’s apple bobbing with wads of salivation once his fingers slink down to curl at your bra strap and snap! “Not to take this off or-” You gasp, the sting almost making you forget those minute rips! echoing from where he was grasping your t-shirt. “-this? Guess I can do whatever I please then, right?”

Before you can say a word of shrill protest, those useless pieces of fabric are tattered off. Ending up not-so-nicely in a pile right beside your bed with Toji’s intact clothes. 

“H-hey!” You whine, “Those were ah- limited edition-”

“Ah, I’ll buy ya five more of those.” Toji rolls his eyes when your lips part open, “What? Thought I wasn’t filthy rich or somethin’- Oh, girl, you are about to be spoiled. But first, a kiss-” Innocent and sweet onto your lips, “-here. And…”

Toji huffs out a few cocky sniggers at his own little joke, because of course he does. Leaving you off with a gentle swat! to the perfect curve of your hip and your heartbeat throbbing at your drooling cunt. 

He’s shuffling onto his very knees at the bottom of the bed, tutting at how unfairly far you were from his greedy mouth - well, that had to be fixed. You almost get whiplash from how swiftly you’re being dragged to let your jittery legs be thrown right near his tightly coiled deltoids. “-here.”

Head bobbing in an urgent yes yes yes when Toji rids you of your flimsy skirt and slowly slides down your drenched panties. All bunched up and leaving a glimmering coating of slick down your skin.

Stuffing it into his pants pocket, “This is a lil’ reward f’me.”

“Filthy.”

“Oh, well helloooo there, pretty girl.” He’s drawling, eyes flashing with such darkness at the heavenly mess of a banquet all laid out in front of him. “You’re so in heat- so fuckin’ in heat. See? Who needs fuckin’ inducers when ya have me.”

Toji’s pupils were swallowing up his verdant orbs. Needy. And he’s unashamed in taking a long deep inhale of your saturated pheromones. His favorite perfume now. “Lookin’ real happy ta see me. Happy s’your hah- first heat, hm?”

You’re squirming, fingers tangling into his silken tresses in an attempt to try and shove his face closer. “Are- are you talking to-”

“Hush now, doll.” Toji leaves a wet pap! of his fingers thwacking against the treacly slit of your pussy, watery with your flooding slick and greedy. “Lemme talk to ‘er- lemme talk this cute cunt through her first heat. M’honored, y’know?”

And honored just doesn’t begin to cover it.

Toji was devoted.

It’s like your wafting clouds of heady scent made his mind dizzy, until the only thing he could do was to let his slutty tongue loll out and sliiide at the splatters of translucent sap soiling your inner thighs.

“Oh- fuck-” You’re squirming your hips in a wild buck upwards, only to have him pin you down with the heavy-handed weight of his forearm. “-feels so- so…”

“Yeah? Good? Ya always get this wet or s’that jus’ f’me?”

Truly, you could only jumble out a few nonsensical syllables. Because Toji didn’t want to waste a single ounce of your precious juices, slurring out a few open-mouthed kisses across every inch of skin you’d exposed to him. And the moment that rosy peak of his tongue touches upon your teary pussy- oh.

He thinks he might just be the one about to cry.

Because you didn’t just smell like his favorite candied lollipops - you tasted like it, too. And, fuck, he can’t help but go in for seconds. Thirds.  

Guffawing out breathily with disbelief, he’s drawling his tongue to mush open the gummy folds of your pussy. Swirling out a lazy flick of his sopping muscle to stretch out the tight ring of your wide agape-

“Just look at ‘er all hngh- overflowing.” You watch with bated breath when Toji’s prying your quivering entrance with a bullying few inches of a singular thick index - only one, but Toji was so incredibly towering with his size and strength that you find yourself keening. Coral pink lips puckering up to give your hooded clit a squelching kiss. “Heh…like a damn waterpark, aren’t ya?”

Filthy words only making you filthier. Making your omega inside blink up and yearn.

Your gushing wads of juices bawling from between your legs in torrent. And you yelp at the lecherous sounds that echo out - the waterlogged squelches and slurring that only makes Toji grin. Wild and sly. “Mhm, real talkative.”

Arching your back into the perfect slutty curvature off of the prespired sheets, “Tojiii- s-stop teasing n’ give me- ngh- more.”

More. 

And just then you feel him fuck his softened digits into you slow and thorough. Curling up to swipe down the mushy soft spots of your walls - Toji was burning up. But you were burning up even more, and shit.

Shit. shit shit shit-

You don’t know if it’s because of your heat, or if it’s because Toji is just that good with that rude mouth of his - but you’re cumming faster than the thought could even flash across your melty mind. “Wait- m’close ngh- Toji- I’m gonna-”

It’s like a tidal wave of bliss peaked up further and further with every slashing motion of Toji’s gyrating make out with your cunt. You’re so very extra sensitive right now and he makes use of it - bumping up that rounded angle of his nose to press your fleshy clit just right. 

It’s so intoxicating. So heady that he finds himself pushing back those sweat-dampened bangs of his to lower down loooong breath. And then finally another passionate French kiss onto your bulging pussy. 

“Fuck- I-” Pearlescent droplets of tears welling up at the scrunched corners of your eyes. “M’so- sensitive–”

God, his wolfish canines were sharp nipping teasingly into the fat pucker of your pussy lips. Parting your slick-gleaming mound to squeeze his tongue into your tight hole, the stretch is incredible. It’s staggering. And Toji can only sully your insides with a gentle brush of his lengthy tongue along your gooey insides before pulling back with a huff. 

And then again- to let out a throat groan when your elastic walls push with resistance. And again. And again and again-

“Now m’offended.” Toji’s letting out a surly swat! where you’re trickling down viscous fluids of sickly sweet slick that coat his mountainous knuckles, his wrist, the raised trailways of his veins. “Wanted more but tha’s all ya can take- tch.” 

Oh, by the time your white-hot tingles of pleasure were bating you should’ve known better than to think that Toji Fushiguro was done manhandling you with his superhuman strength to every whim and want of his. 

That he would give you even a second of a warning before hovering over your frame and flipping you into such a pliable position over him.

His back hitting the puff of the pillows, strands of hair making a dark halo underneath him. Toji looks so fucking handsome that you can feel your pussymound slobber a few streaky puddles of slick onto his heaving abs. 

Hands positioned on either side of his leering head, you mewl. “Give me a warning first, you animal-”

“Hell yeah.” He’s snarking up at you, but there’s not a single speck of heat behind his words other than towards you. Towards what he wanted to do to you. Planting a heavy smack! on your ass, “Tha’s right you’ve got me in a rut after years like a fuckin’- animal. Heh, so jus’ lemme throw my pretty omega ‘round a lil’, I can feel how wet that gets ya.”

“N-noo- it doesn’t-” But that was a fucking lie and both of you knew it, knew it from the syrupy pool of sap laminating his heated skin. 

“See? She’s on my side. Doesn’t talk back.” The curvaceous pads of his fingers twiddle and tease your plumpened clit, so dirtily that it only makes your dripping cunt drool even further. Leaving a gauzy cobweb of treacly slick with every swat! swat! swat! he gifts. “Has anyone ever had her seated on a mouth, sugar? Made you feel good that way?”

Your head shakes before the thought has even contorted itself into an understandable shape. “No- no one has- ngh- before.”

It’s a confession, it’s a line plucked right from Toji’s filthiest thoughts on those late, late nights.

And he couldn’t look happier when molding you to the exact shape and angle that he wants you in. Turning you right around to bare your sodden pussy from the back, your unbalanced thighs curling on either side of his ravenous head. 

Not even a single command, yet your head is swimming with honey at just how much you were like putty underneath his hands. 

Your head cranes over the plane of your shoulder to give him a pretty plea. “Toji?”

“Mhmmm, Toji’s right here, pretty girl.” He’s awestruck - stunned with the gumdropping droplets of sap plopping down onto his tongue and sliding right down his throat. Making him groan, “Filthy fuckin’ pussy, can feel ya ngh- dripping allll down my tongue.”

And he’s drunk. He’s babbling, he’s heaving and heaving to inch his intoxicated maw to connect with your saturatedly glossy pussy lips. “Lower her down so I can give her lil’ smooch.”

Your hands nimble down along the tufted black happy trail brushing from between his navel and going down, down, down. “L-like this?”

“Nah, more. Can’t believe all those pathetic boys never had ya hah- sitting on their faces. Spread those pretty legs n’ lemme show you-” You can’t even begin to think about merely hovering your entire deadweight above him, because Toji was ready. And he was hauling you to rest every single mass of your flesh onto him, “-how a real man fucks.”

Thickly viscous helpings of your generous slick flood his mouth the second that Toji’s lengthy tongue is burrowing between your folds and driving you mad. 

Sliding all the way up and down up and down up and down with a welcoming flit at your buttoned clit and then pumping you overwhelmingly full. Fucking you with the overheated scratch of his tastebuds exactly the way that he wanted to with his achy cock right now.

“Can still taste m’self on ya- haaah- good.”

Toji wasn’t holding back.

“O-oh my god, m’so sensitive.” Your moans come out mangled. Wanton. Spilling from between your parted lips right along with rivulets upon rivulets of waterfalling saliva every single time that Toji’s bumping the curvaceous search of his tongue into your earliest sweet spots. “Slow down, Toji–”

Your fists maze through the velveteen blankets and clench, hips jerking up-

“Nuh uh, doll, no runnin’ away from your Toji.” Sliding up one slick-glazed hand to snake the small of your back, he’s using his face to nudge your legs even further. Drowning your sobbing cunt with a fat wad of spittle, Toji’s licking down the stray speckles that gravitate back onto his own mouth. So dirty that it makes him delirious, nose crinkling, bottom lip bitten. “Yeahhh, crack ‘em open even wider. She’s eager.”

Eager you were.

Jostling your hips against his mouth until through your clouded mind you were wondering whether he would suffocate. But little did you know that this might just be Toji’s ideal death - buried right there between your pretty legs. 

You’re being bounced so hard that you can feel your legs aching with the strain, hollowing out shuddered breaths and whines of Toji, Toji—

“Say my name.” He’s huffing, easing in a thick few inches of his fat digits that fill up the snug geysering orifices. Each n’ every single volume of space that’s inside you, and those puckered pecks leave screeching squelches that have you halfway through sobbing. “Say my name- say my name heh, g-gonna have a looot of ngh- noise complaints after this.”

Even though he’s saying this, he doesn’t do anything to deter you. Why the hell would he?

Pumping you full of one finger, two, three until your gummy ring of muscle was being molded to the plump circumference of his lengths. Multi-tasking. 

All the way until he was slathering the patterned bumps of his knuckles with a sticky second skin of slick, Toji curls those rounded tips down the tenderized walls of your channel and drags. Feeling for that one special target of his-

“G’na make ya feel s-so good.” He’s whispering, breathing like it was the truest of true words. And shit- he hasn’t felt like this for ages now - years. Secondary gender growling from his inner depths with guttural need to give you more more more. “Gonna find- ah- found it.”

And Toji knows he found it with the way you squeal. Wafting scent intensifying, lashes fluttering with a clinging swash of tears once he jerks a good push into that bulging bullseye that makes you see stars.

“Right there- Toji– right there-”

“S’fucking loud.” He’s rolling his eyes for what seems like the nth time today, but it was impossible not to when you were just so cute being teased like this. Bubbling out a few sloshes of slick and spit when your fingers dip right underneath his trousers and push. “O-oh? Trynna keep yer mouth full, huh? Let’s see ya try then.”

Your low lip juts out into a pathetic sort of pout that Toji finds adorable, that only makes his clothed cock pool out a darkening patch of precum onto his boxers. 

“Wan’ taste you- make you feel good.” Your words are warbly and broken, tone hitching upwards with every tiny slip of his sticky underwear downwards. It’s like you were teasing him - teasing yourself. And your inner omega was oh-so-very impatient. “Wanna make you feel…oh.”

“Heh, cat really got yer tongue now, huh?”

And you couldn’t even retort, you couldn’t even snap back as you usually might have because you were stunned. 

Maw falling slack at the generous girth that was throbbing fatly between your fingers, honestly from this lecherous angle it seemed like a struggle to even close your fist around him. Because Toji was…big - and even saying that was an understatement. 

Just about nine throbbing inches with hefty breeder balls that your bleary gaze could make out, flushed a candied pink on the rounded curve of his mushroom tip. Graduating down, down, down into a pale baby rose - you didn’t know whether it was the heat talking but right now he just looked like your favorite sort of lolly.

“L-look so pretty, Toji.” You babble away, words getting breathier and breathier as sloppy as his kisses get. Your puckered lips are almost stinging with just how thorough he was. “Wanna taste…”

Oh, and you didn’t realize that one perk of having your secondary gender presented was realizing the shift in his pheromones. 

You didn’t know how you knew but there was a tinge of utter adoration in Toji’s jasmine-infused scent as you plop down a wet mass of slippery saliva right onto his strawberry divot. Lathering the split, plummy globe before planting your mouth down and kissing.

Your mushy tastebuds looping little motions over the creamy butter-topped cap of his splurging cock, he tastes so heady. Rich pre melting on your tongue and it was so musky, so…him. 

“Oh, girl-” he’s breathing out through a rasping sigh. Darkened brows marrying together at just how warm your mouth was sheathing around his painfully hard shaft, “That’s it- thaaaat’s it. Suck on my cock like a good girl, mama—”

“Ngh-” Your jaw aches, throat jumping at the squeezing sensation of his lustrously crowned tip tunneling right down. Craning your head so that he could count every bounce, “S-sho bwigh.”

You were so heavenly, alternating to leave shy little snogs over and under his sensitive slit - and Toji was one competitive man. It was in his nature, of course. 

Tumbling your hips to rest even greater onto his mouth, he didn’t need to breathe. Didn’t even want to even dream of it when he had the circles of his fingerpads latched on your jiggling ass so hard it was sure to leave battered bruises for the next week and weeks and weeks.

“Damn, she’s good, huh?” Toji’s whispering at the sopping wet purse of your lips, “But I can’t have myself  c-cum before- fuuuck- my girl.” 

Your eyes were sprinting all the way to the back of your heavy lids with ever swaying lash of his mean mouth. And it didn’t matter just how vulgarly you were sliding your starved tongue down the heated ridges and veins of his swollen cock - Toji was doing ten times worse. 

Every deepening inch you swallowed up into your cavernous mouth only made him plug you fuller. Every stray swipe of the thick, ivory beads of his pre made Toji douse out lumping masses of saliva lewdly. And every twitch that made you sure Toji was right on course to tumbling over the edge was urging him to push you headfirst into your orgasm with a final teasing pinch at your clit. 

And your mouth opens with an accusing gasp - did he just…pinch your clit? But all thoughts of his audacity and the fact that Toji was chuckling out right after washed away as soon as your high was flooding you.

Moans being muffled around his generously fat shaft, the only thing that you get is just a single wispy wire of condensed cum being lacquered onto your tongue. Just one. Right before Toji’s free hand splays out onto your scalp and pulls you free with a wet pwah!

“Tha’s it-” You hear him mutter in the blinding cloud of your orgasm, it felt so blissful that some darkly primal part of you said that you were never letting him go after this. He was yours. Your mate. “-louder. Louder– good fuckin’ girl cummin’ all over my mouth.”

Toji didn’t know how the hell was multitasking with your pussy kindly spraying him with a sheeny covering of all your remnant juices. But for you? Anything.

Anything anything anything and he was whispering the very same mantra into the quavering, slick-flooded entrance of yours. Letting your hips drag sloppy grinds to ride out every edge of your peak - to use him in a way that no other alpha might just.

Toji’s strokes up into your tightly-clasped fist were deep, and he doesn’t stop even when your eyesight stops tinging with black. Not even when your back arches with oversensitivity, waterfalls of tears producing from your ducts. Sobbing, “I-I’m- ngh- Toooji- I can’t anymore-”

“Sure, ya can–” Looking you right into your thoroughly half-lidded eyes as he nods along with the slurring symphony that he was orchestrating from between your overworked legs. “-she says ya- ngh- can.”

Toji wanted to taste you again. Needed it.

“But-” And, yet, he finds his ear perking up at the wobbly sound of your voice, blushing bludgeoning tip creaming out another thick mess of white. “-but I wan’ my next- ah- next orgasm around your cock, Toji–” 

And, well, how could he say no to that?

Toji thinks he could never say no to anything you ask ever again with the way you were positioned precariously on top of him and still begging. 

He’s saying goodbye to your pretty pussy with a slow peck as a lover would. Breathing in heavily - oh, how he loved the smell of you. “M’gonna see ya later, m’kay? Don’t miss me too much.” 

And another gifted spank! to your tenderized ass makes you jerk a few inches off of his sugary mouth. Sweet, sweet praises being pecked up the bending arch of your spine when he sits you down all cutely on his lap.

You’re heaving out a huff, scent glands throbbing with a spike of something slightly salty. Jealousy. “M’startin’ ta think you’re playing ngh- favorites.”

“Well, duh.” He’s fluttering his long, bestowed lashes with an eyeroll, barely even flinching before cupping your slobbering pussy with one large palm. Teasing, “I’ve got yeeears ta make up for.”

Years of desperation and need pouring and pouring out when Toji folds you easily onto all fours.

And that’s when you’re getting a thorough striking of exactly three times that Toji’s sappy crownhead jolts upwards with a few gummy kisses hello up and down the crying middle of your pussy lips. Smooching. Gently. Before he’s snuggling right beside your hole-

With you bent over and arched right how he wanted you - oh, he was so enjoying the view. Saturated bursts of cloudy pheromones hitting your feverish body and only making the fountains of translucent slick increase tenfold. 

Shit, you were so wet that Toji has to force himself to let one greedy hand go from its favorite job trapping you underneath him. 

Guiding a few dexterous digits to wrap around the bulkily bloated cylinder of his base, he takes his time slipping and sliding.

“Might wanna hold yer breath, mama, h-heh…” You’re squirming your hips deeper into those pronounced hip bones of his despite the fact that simply breathing won’t help you take on his monstrous size. But you wanted to. You needed to. “Gotta c-count- ngh- eeeevery inch like a good girl now, m’kay?”

And that’s exactly what he made you do. 

“Oh!” Saltily flavored globules of your tears had your lips wetted, blubbering unconsciously when Toji anchors the hills of his palm onto the ends of your spine and pushes. “Shit- Toooji, why the hell are you s-so big-”

“Now that doesn’t sound like a ngh- ‘one’ ta me…”  But of course, who was Toji if it wasn’t for a little bit of teasing. Just enough to get your lips pouting cutely and your gluey walls clinging around him as if afraid he would pull away. Adorable. “Now now, c’mon- don’t tell me the biiig stretch has made ya forget how to ah- count, mama.”

So easy to rile up, to get you shaking your head so fervently that you swear you could feel your melty mind tumbling about like a bobble head. “N-no. I can count.”

“Then, say it w’me-” And oh, you knew that tone. That feral tone of his that would never ever bode well for you or your needily dripping pussy. Toji’s inching his hips back mere sinful inches, drawling out all the while. “-oooone.”

He doesn’t even ease you in.

Hitting your spraying cunt with the full force of his mushroom-topped head pushing past the adhesive-like resistance of your flooding entrance. Pushing and pushing and pushing- “One.”

Toji’s hands are clammy - depraved - when they pry your bouncing ass ever-so-slightly to really take in the sight of your gobbling pussy. Because he had no shame. He had no fucking shyness letting out a proud puff of pheromones that make your boneless knees weak.

“There there.” He’s patting that curve of your hip he loved so much - birthing hips, the thought strikes him. Shocked at just how much deeper that drowns him into his heady rut. “My good omega. Now…two.”

“T-two-” You’re sobbing out.

“Hmmm, nah- no stutterin’.”

Oh?

And, honestly, Toji half-expected your omega in heat to snarl at him a little, to let your hugging channel scoop up a hefty few dollops of milky pre right before he’s reeling the familiar pathway forwards again.

But, oh shit, he didn’t expect for you to bare your teeth like a fucking threat. For one hand of yours to dart behind with surprising accuracy and curl around his shaggy haircut, dragging Toji to pump you full. And it wasn’t just one inch. Not two. Not even three - you were damn near yearningly jackhammered with about halfway down his fuming red shaft before he finally got his cottony brain together. “Two.” 

“Damn, greedy girl–” Toji praises, though it comes out as more of a rasping growl that sends voltaged shivers down your spine. “Comin’ back for more, already? Knew my dick was hah- heat- alright then-” And the bed rings out with a few symphonied creaks when he shuffles his muscular thighs wider. Steadier. “-but ya better still fuckin’ count.”

Four. five. Six.

More and more - seven and eight. 

Up until Toji’s puffy head smudges a wet wipe at the canvas of your cervix. You were so soft there that he obviously has to greet the melty depths of your pussy with a good spurting of ribbony pre, swabbing around those drenched springs with a lazy circle of his hips.

“Eight.” Your jaw spills a surging slew of profanities at the feeling of him spearheading you so open, face pushing into the soft mattress when you perk your hips up and push. Only to gasp at there being- more? “Wait- I want-”

“Down, girl.” Toji’s sweat-shimmered biceps flex when he shoves your too-eager body back. “Gotta get you to at least cum on m’cock again before I give ya my- fuuuuck- knot.” 

And Toji fucks you like he’d going to make you remember.

He knows he’s going to make you remember - it’s why he has that big, dopey smirk smearing wider and wider across his face with every fat thud! into the rubbery bounds of your pussy. You’re taking him like you’re made for it, and that only makes his heart stutter even louder than your protesting wooden bedframe.

“Doll, m’gonna ahh- break this damn bed.” He’s uttering out, never ever sounding prouder of himself than right now. “And you.”

“Cocky.”

“Whatever, girl- talk t’me when ya haven’t gotten- hah-” Managing out through blissful hiccups of his breath, “-heart-eyes after bein’ hngh- fucked dumb by me, ‘kay?”

You’re not sure if you’ve heard that correctly - but luckily for you, Toji Fushiguro is allll about keeping his girl in the loop.

All about prancing his rough hands to entrap your wrists and pull you with barely even a wisp of his true strength. Beaded dewdrops of sweat perspiring up and down the heavily toned muscles of his back like their very own personal rollercoaster.

With you right along for the ride with the way that his rightly angled rotund tip romantically scours and scours for your magical g-spot. Jerking you up in midair to snap his slender hips with a particularly vicious pap!

The sensation of skin-on-skin makes your head dizzy, and your core overpour with another sudden downpour of treacling juices. But what was even blasphemously worse was the way that precious geyser embedded into the treasure trove of your walls were pummelled. 

Over and over.

“There- right there–” you’re sounding out as if you were a broken record. Every resonating moan of yours accompanied hand-in-hand with the loudest splish-splosh of sputtering juices. Secondary gender working overtime now to make Toji cum. To make him give you his knot- “-wan’ you to c-cum right there.”

“Where?” Toji’s deepening his angle to bump a heavy-handed slam pounded into your cervix. “Here?” At your vehement shakes - honestly, he wondered if you even knew he was taunting you at this point. “Then…” Only to give your peaked clit a mushy squeeze, “-here?”

You’re almost crying at this point, bursts of heat fluctuating between your goopy depths and your swollen scent glands. Full and ready. And it’s a sight so pretty that Toji can feel his stomach twisting already. “N-noooo.”

He almost loses it once your shakier, smaller hands take the lead to guide one of his own all across your thighs where he loved. Your cunt, where he loved just a bit more. And to about halfway along your pretty tummy to press- “Wan’ you to f-fill me up riiight here.”

And Toji only growls, “Riiight there, huh?”

Pinpointing his puffed-up divot to smudgeon repeated heavy collisions into the latched wall of your womb. Once. Twice. Before thrashing your permeated walls with hosing flushes of his cum. Of such thick ribbony wads - and it’s so fucking dense that you feel your hips weigh down.

Or perhaps that was because of your own orgasm the- third of the night?

Just about all you can manage out, syllables falling from your lips slower than you’re being hammered through the faintish spurts of your high. “C-umming–”

Before you know it, you have one of his muscular forearms around your throat in headlock, bulging Toji’s rounded biceps hard and possessively at the bumpy area of your glands.

“Cummin’ again?” Toji snarls against your ear, nails clawing at your hip to keep them under his control. “Yeah- yeahhh tha’s right. Milk your dear Toji, t-take this fucking cock. Take my…”

And Toji was about to overstuff your awaiting hole with the fat circular ring that’d swollen around his base, to finally give you his knot the way he’d been dreaming of ever since you waved at him on the day he moved into this fucking building. 

But just one sneaking glance at the ivory lipstain your puffy pussy was wearing, the way the ends of your sopping slit drown with a swamping drip drip drip of his lustrous cum makes Toji go a little…crazy. 

Makes the bulgingly tender crook of your neck look so, so tempting. 

His glassed-over eyes lock downwards, breath hitching at the way he slowly sinks back out and in has your pussymound mewling out such a cute glomp! His second-favorite girl - after you, of course - was speaking back to him. Lathers of splashing cum painting his bulky heft with a ring of frosted seed. 

Oh.

Toji would never get tired of this. How the fuck hadn’t he had a rut in years again?

And he says only one word, “More.”

“M-more?” Your fingers experimentally nudge at the tautly coiled pressure at your stomach and find yourself slobbering - from both drizzling lips. Even with the dredges of pouring cum, you were still so full you felt that you could burst. “Can it even fit?”

Right now he thinks the hazy fog covering his brain would never stop - and he doesn’t want it to. Waves of pheromones wafting off of him in such high concentrations that you find your mouth flooding with saliva all over again.

Cobwebs of it overspilling down onto the veined muscles of his forearm - only increasing in saturation when he tilts your head up in the perfect 90 degree curvature to face his boring gaze. And his mean mouth.

Spitting right onto the tainted bullseye of your tongue, streamy rivers flowing back into your mouth when he firmly nudges it shut. “If yer droolin’ n’ can still t-take ngh– that,” Branding the thorough push of his circled circumference into your cervix like he was branding the swollen indentation there permanently. “-then ya can take allll of haaah- this, okay, mama?”

Shit, was Toji glad that both your concoctions of pheromones kept him still hard. And he’d heard of ruts that lasted a week - two, uncommonly. The longest ever recorded was twenty days and by god was he going to gain the title of world champion.

Even if it meant he had to lift you cleanly off of the now-broken bed, the exact same one that you were only now noticing. Just barely so. 

You’re gasping, fingers digging into Toji’s smooth skin when two arms wrap around your middle and jostle you over a few coiling bedsprings that’d started to stick out from one sagging end of the mattress. Being pushed to bend over in such a complaint position at the end of your cool mahogany desk. 

You’re dipped deep, but his battering rams were impossibly deeper.

And the zig-zagging probe of his veins were massaging you just right, thrusts determined and practiced now that Toji had every scouring inch of your pretty pussy drilled into his mind.

“Th-three’s the ah-” Toji’s chest rumbles with a sensitized shiver once he hikes up a strong leg, caging you with him and his ruthless cock and him. Letting you gape at the documents rustling and flying about, “-charm. Or was it four? Ngh- f-five? Six?”

Just how long did he intend to mess up your insides? 

Though, you really, really aren’t complaining at the way that every merciless dab of Toji’s sharp hips into your fleshy mounds fuck you stupid. Entire body burning up - all the way from his lolling, sweat-stucken head in the crook of your neck, to the splurging torrents of streamy sap coating you.

And then there was that stinging plap! of his tightened knot behind you-

“C-can I have your knot now, Toji—?” 

Shit, his hips stutter their sloppy staccato, did you even know what you were asking for?

You never knew that heats came with such a side of begging, but right now you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. Or to complain. Because Toji liked it, earning your pillowy walls with extra thorough hits. 

“Impatient girl.” He’s raising a hand to give two messy spanks on your bulging pussymound, deep snickers hitting your ear in condensed pants at the way it only makes you filthier. “Real diiiirty, too. mmm, wonder if she’d ngh- m-make an even bigger ngh- mess if I…”

And at this point, you were hanging onto every word falling from his kiss-bitten lips. A side-effect of just how good he was fucking you into the digging edges of your clattering desk right now. “What- ngh- what? P-please-”

“Ohhh, know yer m-manners, huh?” Full body wracking at the oodles of slicked sheens frothing down the plump curve of his globed balls and making them clench. Dangerously so. “S-since ya asked so fuckin’ nicely, I’ll let you ngh- know, sugar.” 

Nothing could have prepared you for the way that Toji moistens his parched mouth with a few sultry licks of his lips as if preparing to share his deepest, darkest secret.

Nothing could have prepared you for the notched up burst of his jasmine perfume that makes your legs resemble weak jelly, and Toji’s support yours until they were hovering almost midair. 

Because he was craning his head down to nip at your scent glands, with a sudden snicker. Crazed. A few octaves higher. Like he doesn’t even realize it’s tumbling out before sighing, “-wonder if she’d make an even bigger mess once I get ya…pregnant, mama.”

And oh you think you’re cumming - hot spurts of bliss tackling you by surprise. Fuck, and if you thought that the last orgasm had taken a lot out of your Toji then you’re sluttily glad to find out that that was not the case.

The complete opposite, in fact.

You’re sure that Toji cums even more this time, sunken divot into the elastic material of your walls welling up with the creamy helpings of his bloated cock. So much seed spilling out of him that you wondered whether this was the rut or just him.

Just his urge to fuck you full until you were pathetically overspiling, until had had you in a hold so tight that you think you could almost feel Toji’s delicious crownhead fuck his cum into you until it reached your lungs. 

For what feels like rounds upon rounds until your saliva had amassed in a forevermore pool underneath you. You didn’t know what time it was. How long it had been- 

Only feeling the firm glissade of Toji’s washboard abs against your back. The way his thighs shivered and jerked at every one of your gripping clenches. And despite being so fucked, you were already drooling at the heavenly cushy push and pull of his Adonis-like pecs heaving in throaty gasps. 

So unfairly sexy that it made your primal instincts preen. Mate.

And, apparently, Toji was thinking much the same. 

“F-fuuuck-” He’s letting his mouth nuzzle the side of your throat with all the tenderness that he wasn’t bestowing upon your sappy cunt. “Think about i-it- you all ngh- round and glowing n’- rooound–“ Rambling and rambling at the wet splashes inside you of his stuffing, “You’d make the prettiest momma.”

As if to prove his point, a gentle hand greets the inflationary outline that was slowly forming its way at your tummy. Made by yours truly - Toji. 

“I…” And he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars. And his sanity right along with it somewhere up there. “-want that. Oh, I- hngh! want that-”

Words barely out of your mouth before Toji’s hand slams down - he had to keep himself together. He needed to. But that grating desk clearly wasn’t the place, because you flinch when one straining leg snaps!

And Toji’s alpha instincts are flaring up in an instant, wrestling you to the ground right - pulling out for only a nanosecond to flip you onto your prespired back, pretty legs strewn sloppily over his shoulder, even prettier face gazing up at him - beside the wreckage. One that you’d only find it in yourself to worry about much, much later. 

Definitely not when he’s patting the curve of your pussy with a softened thwack! Murmuring, “Then..g-gonna hafta- hngh- take it.”

And if you didn’t know any better, then you’d have sworn that the smug Toji Fushiguro’s voice cracked as soon as he was settling for drawing a languid heart pattern around the velvety perimeter of your entrance. Before thumbing his way inside-

“Hck!” Your lip wobbles with oversensitivity, nails clawing red, red lines of raw need across the faintly bubblegum pink flush of his body. “S-Soooo much–”

And, yet, you couldn’t get enough. 

You watch with a bitten lip with a fat goblet of sweat drips from Toji’s angular jaw and slithers between his pecs to disappear down below. More - you wanted to fucking ruin him.

The desperation of your heat plummeting in heady wavelengths all around you and making the room smell like a candy heaven.

One that you were very much lost in with the unforgiving stretch of Toji pawing his way to working your sprinkling cunt doubly open. Fingers pumping in quick, methodical half-fucks in the same way that his persistant hips were doing.

Every single recoil against your fleshy cervix causes you both to keen at the wet slosh of his mounds of seed piling up inside you from all the endless rounds before. 

Again. And again. And again and again until it feels like countless hours upon hours. 

“Ohhhh- w-ait-” Toji stammers out, attractively sharp jaw falling and wrenching shut a few repeated times. And then his hips slow down. “Think s’gonna- ngh- ohhhh yeah, gotta take this kn-knot okay? Like my goood girl, okay?”

You’re filled with countless inches of a staggering girth that you didn’t even know was possible. Because while alphas were big…Toji was extra big. 

Extra rounded in his sizable knot, rested upon thickly globular balls that still held such voluminous amounts of cum. Pounding open your eager cunt further and- further-

“I-is it in?” You’re shrilling out, syllables slurring and stumbling together with the incredible stretch being made evident from down below. Fuck, your nails create more painted patterns. You didn’t even want to look - you couldn’t afford to cum again just from the sight. 

“J-just ngh- one more inch. Scratch me, ruin me- anythin’. But m’gonna make it f-fit.”

And Toji only hooks in another one of his thumbs, this time swiping the fat pad of a few stray fingers down your buxom clit. “Count w’me, doll-” For his sanity more than anything. Neck straining with a few popping vessels of blood that swell, face reddening with such a maidenly fucking blush as he looks downwards. “-ooone more-”

“-inch.” You finish off, not expecting that exact moment to be when Toji snaps. His patience. You, full of that achingly hot knot that’d been just begging for you to take him the very moment you waltzed up to him with that sweetened saccharine scent. 

His favorite now.

Gulping in cavernous quotas of it the moment Toji’s inflated knot pops and he sinks his sharpened canines into your scent glands with a whimper-

Hard enough to taste your honey-glazed pheromones, to draw blood. To be permanent - just as he’d needed it. 

Hard enough to make him cum all over again at the feeling of your own teeth making their pretty mark on him. Shit, he didn’t even know if it was fucking possible for his overworked cock anymore. But he sure wasn’t fucking complaining at the delicate splat splat splat of milky cum hitting the back of your pussy. 

Already filled to the brim and spilling with every loving grind that Toji was boring down upon you. The only thing that he could manage when you two were connected so…tightly this way.

“Cute.” Toji manages to run his fingers over the proprietorial set of indentations set in his flesh, eyes still laminated dewily with an euphoric sort of stunned awe. “F-fated mates really have some good ngh- bed chem, huh?”

Fated mates. You could only smile and scent that overwhelmingly addictive jasmine scent of his. Taking in a long, deep breath as he held you. Tight. 

Yeah, jasmine. 

But jasmine was Toji Fushiguro’s.

And you’d be damned if Toji Fushiguro ever let you off that easily.

The smile you’re given is feral, predatory teeth glimmering in the dim lighting and making the neat circle of marks at your neck throb. And something about that told you this was far, far from over. 

You could only hope that your floor didn’t suffer the same fate as your bed, and your desk…and your fluttering cunt.  

After all, you both did have years to make up for. 

“Now the only haaah- way to really test our bed chem is to see whether we can make Megs a big brother.”

A/N. Thinking about making an omegaverse installment for every JJK man- what do you think babygirls?

Plagiarism not authorized. 

tags: fem! reader, tooth rotting fluff, cheesy proposal.

nanami knows he wants to marry you, but he’s always busy with work that he can never find the time to ask you properly to be his wife. it’s not until one night when you’re watching your little show on the tv in the living room and your boyfriend is sat on the couch, right by your feet with this big and confusing puzzle on the coffee table. you don’t pay much attention to it, very focused on finding out who is the killer in the episode of this season—until kento gently taps your leg.

“baby, have you seen a piece of my puzzle?”

you bring your arms out of the blanket you’re wrapped in to pause your episode and sit up on the couch.

“you lost a piece?”

“it must’ve fell—sorry my love, you must’ve been so focused on your show,” his rough hand gently rubs at your calf and you wave him off before removing your baby blue blanket.

“pshh, don’t be ridiculous baby,” you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, enjoying the way his stubble tickles your lips. “lemme help you find it.”

you fail to notice that nanami is barely making any effort to locate the missing piece, too busy craning your neck to look under the couch and when you finally find the puzzle piece, you show it to your boyfriend excitedly.

“there it is! I found it—“ as you inspect the piece, you find the word “you” written on the back, and kento nanami holding a gorgeous ring between his thumb and index finger, hand shaky as he stares down at you so lovingly.

“wha–kento?“

“when we first met, something in my life just changed. I didn’t know what it was at the time, maybe I was too scared to admit it—that you make me feel safe, loved. that you give me a purpose, a reason to be alive and to keep going. I was too scared that you,” he grabs your left hand and kisses the back of it. “were what my heart, my life was missing all along. my love, will you give me the absolute honor of marrying me?”

and when you look at the sticky note sitting above the puzzle it says “my heart” and you were holding a piece of it. the missing piece.

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

Pro-hero BAKUGO with his own agency obsessing over his new sweet perfect little assistant, just needing to have her all to himself, the JELAOUSY

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: nsfw, misogyny, yandere, obsession, dubcon/noncon, profanity, abuse of power, delusional thoughts, uhm slight mommy kink kinda

♡ FEM reader

Wants & Needs

Bakugo stormed towards the elevator.

Not letting the sliding doors of the entrance to his agency slow him down. Making a dedicated beeline towards his office on the sky-floor.

Anyone else would have thought he was grumpy as per usual, therefor keeping their distance. But like always, it didn't stop Kirishima.

"I don't want another wide-eyed snivelling slutty ditzy assistant, Shitty-hair." The explosion-hero grumbled in the elevator.

Still visibly pissed off that he wasn't allowed to simply explode his way to the top where he was reduced to wasting a whole two minutes standing still. Forced to listen to the makeshift red-head's yapping whining on about what he can and can't do, what he must and mustn't, what he needs and needn't, what's best of him and what's best for him. With a thousand means to no end.

"Give her a try-" The red-head pushed in a drawl.

Having only barely lost any of the enthusiasm he started off with when they were on the first floor.

"I heard she’s supposed to be great!" He beamed.

His teeth shiny like razors in his mouth.

"And pretty."

Bakugo didn't even bother giving him a glance. Rolling his eyes beneath his eyelids. The toothy smile of his friend and coworker too bright an annoying light to face in the morning.

"I don't understand why you bother..." He sighed.

The ash-blonde allowed himself to calm down, knowing it was about another minute left in the tight space, and how no one else could hear his crude words, nor the insecurity hidden in them.

"If it’s a lady she’s gonna be too sensitive anyway." He mumbled.

He always sent them crying. This one would be no different.

"One; you’re the one who’s too insensitive." Kirishima stated, having his finger raised, another bony-knuckled digit following, marking his additional argument. "And two; that’s wicked misogynistic, Bakugo."

"It’s been true so far." The ash-blonde grumped.

"Yeah, but please don't say that shit in front of anyone but me, yeah?" He urged. "At least not when we reach the top floor."

Katsuki turned to look at him for the first time that morning.

"What's on the top floor?"

He did not look amused.

Kirishima twirled his fingers innocently, mouth parting dumbly as he slowly began answering the question in demand.

"Well... I might have gone and taken the liberty of hiring you a new assistant-"

"Fucking dammit, Kiri, I told you! I don't want a new assistant!" The pro-hero groaned, whining like a child only with the growl of a man, trying to keep his breath calm while carding his fingers through his hair, yanking on it, feeling the need to rip it from his scalp to hold himself back from punching the apologetic smile off of Kirishima's face.

"Man, you need one!" The red-head defended with a breezy laugh, seemingly dusting his friend's rage off like it was nothing.

Katsuki only grunted in return, shaking his head, sighing. Giving Kirishima the cold-shoulder. Knowing that if he opened his mouth to say anything now, it would be far from pretty.

He instead opted for reducing his anger to mere growling and brooding for the remaining minute stuck beside the pest that was his bothersome friend.

"You'll love her." The sturdy-hero insisted, putting his fists to his hips while puffing up his chest, chin raised in a way that told Bakugo he couldn't be told otherwise.

The brute huffed as he folded his arms back over his chest, wordlessly disagreeing. Looking up with glaring alarm-red eyes to the lit numbers above the door while tapping his combat-boot-wearing foot loudly against the floor, frustrated with how Kirishima stood beside him optimistically drumming his fingers on his thigh to the beat of the brain-rotting elevator-music, yet slightly uplifted to see he was closer to being allowed to lock himself away in his office and stay there unbothered by the likes of pesky meddling friends and dumb fragile assistants.

.

She stood there, awkwardly awaiting her new boss where the bare-chested hero had left her to go receive him.

Kirishima was nice. A type of friendly she knew she shouldn't be expecting from the explosion-hero.

Which is why her palms were sweating so embarrassingly much, making her wipe them down her skirt, also in an effort to straighten it, where the ding of the elevator only aided in making her heart skip along faster, looking down to see if her blouse was still perfectly situated.

She swallowed her anxiety as the two men neared her, trying to wipe her face free of timidity, knowing how such fragility would not survive here, in Pro-hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight's Agency.

She decided she would be the one to initiate the handshake, wanting to make a strong first impression, the intent almost leading to her leaping forward into the man.

"Hie! I'm-"

But her offered hand was disregarded before she could do as much as finish her introduction.

Without giving her so much as a glance, the tall muscular male didn't even slow down, but continued to walk straight past her, leaving her only one curt cruel comment.

"Listen, kid, I don't need another snivelling crybaby getting tears in my coffee. Don't bother unpacking." He grouched, cutting her off, trying to stomp off in direction of his office, yet stopped by the other male who had his mouth gaping in disbelief at his charmless friend.

"He doesn't mean that." Kirishima rushed to assure. "He really needs you-" He tried defending, but apparently it wasn't needed.

She was ambitious to prove she could handle herself.

"I'll be sure to put a lid on the cup, sir." She made her voice sound cool and unbothered, face relaxing nonchalantly though still with a small soft smile to compliment her pretty face.

Bakugo gaze went from glaring at the red-head to offering the snippy thing a side-look.

Kirishima looked stunned for a moment too before giving a loud grin, eyes glinting.

"See? She can handle you!" He nearly shouted, enthusiastically giving Bakugou a punch to his shoulder. "Come with me! I'll help you settle in."

The man placed a massive gravely hand to the small of her back, guiding her, taking her box from her without asking in order to carry it for her.

She would tell him she could manage on her own, but she'd already come to terms with his slightly domineering acts of manliness and opted for simply smiling in gratitude instead of going full feminist on his out-dated acts of chivalry. It was only her first day after all.

"You'll be primarily Bakugo's assistant and receptionist-" The muscular male started explaining, taking large steps she struggled to parallel as he ushered her forward. "But, to be completely honest with you, you'll probably have to be a bit of a babysitter and maid as well..."

The ash-blonde gave a sigh as he stalked on, leaving Kirishima to take care of the new office pretty addition, not happy with how his friend was describing him, yet not bothered enough to stop him.

"He's very needy, lazy in a sense, he can't be bothered with fixing his calendar and getting his coffee, addressing the public and that sorta thing, so you'll take care of it for him." The sturdy-hero continued informing as he walked her to the glass desk placed lonely outside Bakugo's transparent office.

"Of course-" She nodded her head, listening and agreeing. "I'm here to make his life easier."

"Exactly!" Kirishima said with a smile. "I knew you were perfect!"

Bakugo shook his head with little thrill.

Kirishima said that about every assistant he'd gone and hired on his behalf.

He looked at her before closing the door to his office, analysing what he saw with an uninterested face, taking in her straight posture, standing there like a doll with her knees together, hands folded over her lap, nodding her head pliantly to Kirishima's every word.

He allowed for his scarlet-eyes to judge.

Mundane pencil-skirt, tight-fitted yet appropriate, reaching just beneath her knees, showing off calves but nothing more as her boots hid her ankles. It was the first time he'd seen a woman in an office without stilettos or any other annoyingly loud power-heel on. Her blouse was modest too, no see-through fabric, no bright pop colour, no cleavage, just boring rose-beige reaching up beneath a set of pretty collarbones and an un-necklaced throat.

Pretty in a plain sort of way.

If she was wearing makeup, it couldn't have been much. But her lips had a certain shine to them. Not much colour sept for natural, but glossy in a way making them look pillowy and soft.

He made a note of how she wasn't dressed like a slut, how she looked nothing like those other assistants that came before her, who curled their hair to crispy meanders bouncing as they fake-laughed, with pink manicured nails curling around Kirishima's bulging biceps as he flirted with them.

Fucking disgusting.

He's pretty sure the red-head had banged about every bratty bitchy lazy assistant he's had, knowing how the toothy moron has it as some type of wager with himself, a goal to make each dumb pretty-girl even dumber on his dick.

This one looked sweet though.

Not at all like some brain-dead plastic bimbo hoping to be swept up by a sugar-daddy, or a power-hungry manipulative bitch looking for fame and publicity.

This one simply looked happy to be there.

No ulterior motives sept to do her job.

He nearly felt bad for her, knowing how his dumb-as-a-rock friend was going to abuse his popularity yet again and play her like a football match; first base, second base, third base, and home run, only to then kick her to the curb. Leave her as a crazy ex-girlfriend, bitter and sour with a thirst for vengeance, or a brokenhearted mess, whiny and snotty with mascara streaming down her face, ending up just a complete ghost in a shell, featherbrained and simply useless. Making him do the dirty work of firing a poor snivelling mess only because his stupid friend couldn't control his sadistic carnal urges.

Bakugo sighed.

With just one more glance, he clicked his tongue and huffed, closing his door with a mumble.

"She'll be gone before the week's up."

.

First day went by without speaking to the boss, but she was adamant on making a change the day after.

Realising she couldn't expect him to meet her halfway, she recognised how he needed her to do most of the talking and approaching all on her own.

So, she ran her hands through her hair a couple more times like a comb, straightened her skirt and fixed her blouse, cradled her tablet in her arm for quick easy note-taking and pulled her bag onto the other shoulder.

Holding the boss' coffee in one hand, she took a deep breath and knocked on his door with the other.

He made a grunt, which could have just as easily meant go away instead of enter, but she decided on the latter.

"Good morning, sir."

She trotted inside the spacious office, allowing for just one brief moment to take in the breath-robbing panoramic-view of the entire skyline of Tokyo city shown through his curtain-windows. Refraining from gulping at the vastness of it all as she placed his cup down on the clear glass of his desk.

"Coffee, snack, newspaper, agenda for the day." She listed, placing each item down neatly on his desk, having organised and printed out his schedule the day prior in order to come in prepared.

Feeling slightly like she was baby-sitting. Rethinking the snack, as it might have been a touch too much, giving he was a grown man and not a toddler. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling he'd either skimmed or hadn't gotten his full-amount of breakfast in the morning. Her sixth-sense telling her he needed it.

The man didn't look up, busy studying his gauntlet, visibly struggling with cleaning out the insides of his gloves, however taking a second to reach towards the newspaper, face scrunched in concentration and mild frustration.

She'd picked up the inkling feeling that he preferred the paper-version news above the electronic kind. Something that seemed to prove as true, as he wordlessly started flipping the pages.

Understanding she wouldn't be getting much more of a reply, she continued explaining the agenda.

"Pro-hero Deku filed to have your ten o'clock meeting moved down to twelve. He's awaiting our reply."

Short, sweet and impersonal is what she'd decided the best tactic when speaking to her new boss, leaving all pleasant but unnecessary chit-chat in the dust.

"Tell him to fuck off." He mumbled, still not looking up, however apparently listening.

Where which she, without much hesitance, replied.

"Sure thing, I'll proceed to tell the number-one-hero to fuck off." She repeated, scribbling down the note on her tablet. "I'm sure he'll understand the meeting will be held at ten like originally scheduled, and no later."

At least she doesn't cry over curse-words. Bakugo thought, pretending to read with an unfazed expression on his face.

She brought him a snack? That's kind of weird. No other assistant had ever done that... but he was hungry.

Strange she knows how he prefers things in a physical form, both the newspaper and the schedule printed out instead of e-mailed to him.

Kirishima had probably shared the knowledge.

He reached for the coffee, making a note how it wasn't poured in some flimsy plastic or paper cup, but a glass mug, just the way he likes it.

Her and Kirishima must have been talking about him for a real long good while for her to know all this about him. Or, maybe it was just all on her whim.

That seemed unlikely.

But still, even with Kirishima's guidance, it was impressive how everything had gone strangely perfect so far.

He put the cup to his lips, taking a sip.

What the.... hell?

The coffee tasted different. Good, but different.

But... really good.

"The HPSC has filed for a call at two-" She continued, not noticing the puzzlement hidden beneath his gruff expression, too occupied with quietly studying his fairly barren office, noting how it was just his desk and a bookshelf and an absurd amount of empty space. "But I believe I can handle the meeting on my own where we're most likely to discuss your public face." She offered, getting a feeling he didn't enjoy discussing trivial maters on call with a room full of suits. "I could tell them to fuck off as well, but I suggest we offer something that'll ease their worries."

Bakugo scoffed.

"Who the fuck knows what they want? Nothing's ever enough for those asshats."

He nearly chugged the rest of the coffee after his statement, setting the cup down with a bang on the glass table-top, going back to tweaking at the gauntlet leaking oil all over his desk.

She noticed the mess. Dirty clean-wipes scattered everywhere as though he were sick, but clearly made dirty by grease, crumpled and tossed aside when no longer useful.

Cringing, she decided to walk about and pick up after him while speaking, feeling awkward simply standing there.

"I could tell them that you're willing to colab more with pro-hero Deku."

He made a sound, but she decided to push on, dumping a sum of a dozen clean-wipes into the trashcan beside his desk.

"Unlike you, the public adores him. And lucky for you, he seems to adore you." She explained, fishing a new container of clean-wipes form her bag, placing it on his desk. "I would think giving the media a piece of your upbringing as childhood friends to rivals to coworkers will be an easy way of giving your likability a boost."

He scoffed, reaching for the fresh wipes she'd placed down in front of him, pulling out a handful to rub away the sweat of his quirk smeared on the insides and clogging up the mechanism of his gauntlet.

"Deku'd get a real fucking hard-on if I ever agreed to some pussy-shit like that."

She didn't pay his swears any mind.

"It's just a thought. Perhaps something you can bring up at your ten o'clock meeting if you change your mind on the matter." She professionally dismissed his unprofessional choice of words. "I'll think of other less crucial options that you might favor until then."

She made some more notes on her pad before continuing.

"Other than that, Red Riot wished to relay a message: he's taking the one to five patrol, and requested you take the morning. I have already made arrangements for another hero to take on the patrol between nine and one where you'll be caught in your meeting with pro-hero Deku. I can do further arrangements to clear up your entire day if you wish to prepare-"

"Nah, I'll do it." He cut her off, standing up and stretching with a yawn. "Anything else people need from me today?"

He grabbed the snack, ripping loose the paper before stuffing his face.

She watched the crumbs fall to the floor and made a mental reminder to vacuum while he was out.

"Not at this moment, but I'll be sure to let you know-"

"Fine. Leave." Mouth full as he ordered, giving a half-hearted swat of his hand in the direction of the door, shooing her off as though she were a bug buzzing about him.

She didn't take offence, rather finding her first day going off to quite the good start seeing how he hadn't yelled at her yet.

"I'll see you at nine, sir."

She turned, walking off just the way she came, opening and closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Bakugo watched her go.

That wasn't terrible.

.

"Fuck's this?" Was the first thing the boss said as soon as he walked into his office.

Back from his patrol, pointing a straight finger to the steaming cup on his desk while she was busy organising the documents stuffed hap-hazardously into the bookshelf, fixing the scotch bottles and glasses that laid hidden behind trash and other documents, fan mail and gifts she'd taken the liberty of opening, most of them written and drawn by little kids.

Looking back over her shoulder, she answered.

"Tea."

Refraining from turning around completely to acknowledge him, otherwise busy dusting the shelves.

"I ain't ask for tea." He grumbled, ridding his arms of his already dirty gauntlets on the table she'd just finished rubbing clean.

Where regardless of the unholy sight, she didn't let herself fret.

"Your nerves are static, tea will smooth them over before Pro-hero Deku arrives." She explained, finishing up with the bookshelf, turning around, taking in the muddled look on his face. "You needn't drink it, I just thought I'd give you the option of..."

She wanted to find a better word for it, but figured the straightforward boss probably favoured straightforwardness.

"A sound mind."

She picked her bag from the floor, and started heading out.

"Drink, if you wish, I'll go see to it that the conference room is-"

"What's this for?"

She stopped at his additional interruption, looking back to see him lifting the suit she'd picked from the dresser beneath the bookshelf, dusted free of rubble and other dirt, ironed to perfection by herself just half an hour before he arrived.

"The suit?"

She tilted her head to the side, looking puzzled.

"Well... it's a business meeting."

She looked him up and down, smog coating his otherwise tan sand-coloured skin, some small cuts still bleeding red.

Her brows furrowed.

"You weren't planning on going like this, were you?"

Her finger pointed at him, bobbing at his hero get-up, trashed and tethered and in no way presentable.

"I ain't dressing up for Deku." He spit the name, and she sighed and rolled her eyes at him.

"Think of it this way."

She threw her hands up in a wordless request for him to hear her out.

"One picture."

She looked him in the eye, needing to make sure he was listening, even though he'd hadn't proved himself to be one that doesn't pay attention.

"One lousy picture on Pro-hero Deku's Snapchat feed or Instagram or Facebook of the two of you in suits would do wonders to your reputation."

It was Bakugo's turn to sigh now, groaning out in exasperation.

"Don't get me wrong-" She defended quickly, noticing him slipping on his focus, needing to reel him back in. "Greasy sweaty pictures of you and Pro-hero Red Riot grant you many fans. The media loves your bromance, but that would double if you prove yourself civilised and friendly to the number-one-hero." She argued, fishing for his agreement, feeling as though she was loosing him to his irritation. "He talks of you constantly, how you were the inspiration for his hero-name, how you made him the man he is today-"

"I ain't gonna freeload of Deku's cheesy poster-boy smile." He insisted, throwing the suit to the desk and plopping down like a sack in his chair.

She huffed, small fists balling at her sides, not ready to give up and not done stating her case. Stomping up to him.

"That's not what you would be doing." She denied. "As it stands right now, the way the public view you is as a bully who cares only for one thing-" She chastised. "But sit down with Pro-hero Deku, he'll ask for a picture, like he always does, probably an autograph as well, and all you need is just grin that trademark smirk that have the girls go weak in the knees and suddenly all of Japan will know that there are plenty of sides to pro-hero Dynamight aside from being an explosive in the field."

She picked up the suit so it wouldn't wrinkle, hanging it on the minimalistic mute servant by the door.

"Furthermore, the HPSC will get off your back and won't get back on it, because that one picture with Deku will have such ripple-effects in your carrier that no one can chastise you for being too scary or unapproachable or-"

"Fine." He stopped her rambling, seeing her point. "Where exactly am I supposed to change?" He had an attitude about his tone stating he didn't really enjoy being forced to see reason, despite it being for his own good.

"First-"

She picked up the remote she'd found stuffed in one of the drawers of the bookshelf, forgotten in the mess, clicking on the button she'd found out opened up for a built-in shower at the corner of the office.

"Shower."

She pointed like a strict mother, or a master ordering her dog around.

"You expect me to shower in front of the entire office?" He asked, tone rather childish in its aggressive sarcasm.

But she only giggled at his attitude, clicking another button on the remote he had no idea controlled anything more but the lights.

"I'll leave you to it."

The blinds rolled over all four of his window walls, the office carpeted and the lights of Tokyo city snuffed out, his glass-cage turned into a blackbox, dim moody lights brightening on their own.

She placed the remote on his desk and turned to leave.

"Call on me if you need help with your tie, sir."

Why did she have to say that?

Almost as though she knows he couldn't tie one even if his life depended on it.

.

He hates wearing suits.

Too tight and constricting, too easy to rip.

And warm and sweaty.

The cotton and wool doesn't breathe enough.

And it's loud.

The polyester-lining swishing and rubbing when he walks.

It's the same type of embarrassing as when girls wear heals that echo through the hallways with each pounding step.

He felt like a fucking show-pony.

An uncomfortable show-pony at that.

He thought of his assistant. How it had only been a day and she was already forcing him to act like some bloody dance-monkey, and succeeding no less.

Why the fuck was he taking advice from some brat in boots anyway?

Dressing up for a dipshit like Deku just because she told him to?

What the fuck has happened?

What the fuck did she put in that tea?

Calm his nerves?

What the fuck does that even mean?

He's always calm! He's never not calm!

He's the fucking definition of calm!

He stormed out, but stopped immidiatly at the giggling behind his door.

"So, any plans for the weekend?"

Kirishima sat on her desk, bright smile plastered on his face, the one that makes people feel as though they can tell him anything, as though they can trust him with their deepest darkest secrets.

"Why yes, actually." She replied, small secretive smile curling her lips, making her dimples pop.

"Hmm, let me guess..." The red-head chuckled a playful light-hearted laugh, wiggling his brows at her. "Sweet-pea goin' on a date?"

She gave am impressed look, mouth slightly parting before giving him a smile.

"How'd you know?"

"My excellent people-reading-skills." He boasted with a grin, before leaning down to her level, voice significantly lower, the voice Bakugo had heard him use too many times on countless poor unsuspecting ladies, each one hanging off his words like moths to fire, so quickly to burn themselves. "You've been smiling to yourself all day."

Her face flushed.

"Have I really?" She hurried out in a whisper, eyes timid like a baby-deer, bashfully looking down at her lap. "Is it that obvious?"

Dorks are so fucking cute.

Kirishima had to stop himself from licking his lips.

"You're cute, getting flustered like a schoolgirl."

The goofy smile on his face turned sharper and sharper, almost amounting to that hungry smirk Bakugo knew always lied in wait like a predator, waiting for the moment he felt he'd played enough with his prey.

"Been a while, buttercup?"

He saw the way Kirishima's eyes gleamed, thrilled and basking in making the little assistant squirm, flustered and embarrassed by his questions and flirty devil-eyes.

"No..." She said sheepishly, obviously lying, but Kirishima just found that cuter.

"But this one's different?" He pried, adoring the way she pressed her knees together beneath the clear glass of the desk, toes pointed inward at each other meekly.

"I don't know..."

Her smile was gone, eyes shy under Kirishima's domineering charisma, resisting the urge to bite her lip.

But someone had heard enough of their conversation to allow it to continue.

"Keep your fucking personal life to yourself." Bakugo barked, announcing himself, rescuing her from getting caught on Kirishima's teeth.

"Wow, Bakugo, dude-" The red-head feigned innocence, but Bakugo gave him a look.

"You got that?"

He looked to the girl who wore an expression that seemed oddly happy to see him, relieved in some sense.

"Yes, sir." She nodded, feeling her heart slow to its normal pace.

"And quit taking up Kirishima's time, he's got better shit to do than flirt with you."

He seemed angry, but she remained bright nonetheless.

"Of course, sir."

Red Riot rolled his eyes with a smirk on his face, throwing his head back with a laugh.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

"I ain't fucking around, Shitty-hair." The boss bit out through grit teeth. "If you're gonna stay at my agency, you gotta make yourself useful." Bakugo's voice was gruff and final, words spoken in a tone no one would ever dare defy.

All except Kirishima, of course.

"Grouchy ouchy." He commented, pushing himself off the assistant's desk with an unbothered chuckle. Giving her a wink while flashing a grin, eyes seeming a deeper more bloody shade of red than before. "See yah."

She only gave a stiff smile in return, finding the male's disregard for her personal space less and less charming for every moment she was caught alone, forced to share intimate moments with him, watching his mask chip and flake away, revealing the man she got the unsettling feeling had less pearly-white ulterior motives lurking behind that perfected pearly-white smile on his face.

"You." Her boss's piercing voice cut her from her thoughts, making her take her eyes off the retreating muscular back of the topless hero.

Gaze snapping to the tall broad figure still standing in the threshold to his office, groomed free of his usual coat of battle-rubble and instead clad in a velvet-red silk-shirt, oblivion-black vest hugging him perfectly, tailored to perfection with vines of pale-roses adorning the sides.

His scarred calloused hand gripped onto the complimentary tie in visible frustration.

"Tie this."

She sprung to her feet, pondering whether or not she should thank him for chasing the rowdy red-head away, but decided not to, while fingering the soft silk-tail to his tie.

She needed to tip back and forth on her heels and toes in order to get the height on him, still whole heads shorter, arms reaching almost as though she were to embrace him as she swung the tie around the back of his neck.

And, with having tied a couple hundred ties in her life, she made to look up instead of focusing on her handiwork.

"Your hair does that naturally?" She asked, viewing the way it had already poofed to all corners all without being gelled or blown with a hairdryer.

Looking explosive.

"Like a Pomeranian." She commented, getting the feeling he needed a distraction, where between being stuffed into a suit and awaiting the number-one-hero he seemed far too tense for her to simply ignore.

He made a grunt, but she swore his face softened just a bit. The knot set deep between his brows loosening, his gaze set forward, skimming the top of her head as she looped his tie once then twice.

"Don't ever say shit like that again."

A giggle bubbled from her throat as she smiled up at him.

"Of course, sir."

Tweaking his tie to sit perfectly beneath the collar of his burgundy shirt, brushing his shoulders down when she was done.

"I meant a proud lion, obviously."

It was disarming having someone other than the likes of Kirishima and the devil himself be so calm around him, especially a person who wasn't even a hero, especially a woman.

A small cute woman who brought him snacks and tied his tie for him, who compared him to a cuddly fluffy couch-dog the size of a football and teased him when his pride was hurt by it.

He refrained from swallowing or coughing or stuttering on his words when she caught him staring at her for just a moment too long.

He looked off to the side, serious frown returning.

"What time is it?" He grumbled.

"The current time is nine forty-eight." She answered while walking to retrieve his jacket that was left back in his office, stopping abruptly in her tracks.

The floor was absolutely flooded.

He certainly hadn't bothered trying to maintain the water to one part of the giant space, but rather spread it out to every which corner of the room.

He observed as she tiptoed about the puddles on the floor, manoeuvring to reach his desk in her cute flat-heeled boots, small delicate hands reaching for the last edition to his suit.

Again looking to the floor to avoid slipping and falling on her butt, smiling once having made it back safely to the threshold of the door.

He was half-waiting for her to throw the jacket around his shoulders and help him into it, taking a moment longer than what he was proud of to receive it as she handed it to him.

He tread on the jacket by himself, but the nitpicky assistant followed shortly, coming to his aid with smoothing and straightening it over his shoulders and sleeves, pulling forth a pair of cufflinks she'd kept safe in the pocket to her bag, attaching them to decorate his wrists.

"You have about ten minutes before pro-hero Deku arrives."

He groaned, carding his warm hands through his still damp locks in hope to dry them faster.

With closed eyes he sighed, wanting to go punch something, but with the tiny assistant standing right there, so intimately close, and smelling so enticingly good while looking so adorable and pleased with her handiwork, he didn't want to disappoint her with ripping or ruining his suit with scorch marks.

So, he opted for a less nuclear option.

"What animal is he?"

Her eyes widened as she peered up at him, his question muttered but still clear, causing her smile to widen.

"Animal?"

She gave a false puzzled look.

"He's no animal... Green hair? He's obviously a vegetable."

Giggling, she kept tampering with the suit, making it sit perfectly, touching him so softly he wished she wouldn't touch him at all with how much he was beginning to sweat under her gentle hands stroking delicate touches over his tense and abused muscles, being so fearlessly careless around him despite his reputation for being a temperamental asshole, where aside from that, additionally, she was also doing something so daring as mothering her own bloody boss.

"Something between a celery and a broccoli." She mused. "Though-" She giggled, and his heart seemed to stutter in his ribcage at how endearing he found the fruitful sound. "There was this one time he'd been on vacation and came back looking like a carrot."

Bakugo cracked on smile.

"That fucking idiot." He laughed.

The boss was laughing.

And it wasn't at all in the same gut-wrenching manor the other pro-hero had chuckled when squeezing her thigh.

Sure, Pro-hero Dynamight was rough around the edges and a bit colourful with his language, but he was by no means the raging demon others had made him out to be.

She was left smiling like a goof, feeling as though she'd fully completely and utterly crushed it on her first real day as Mr. Bakugo's new assistant.

.

She walked on ahead, taking the express elevator straight to the bottom-floor in order to guide Deku to the destination of the meeting, having told Bakugo to go along with Kirishima to the conference-room.

"The fuck was that about?" Kirishima asked with his normal jockish attitude, dressed in a grey suit and a black shirt, wearing his signature apologetic toothy grin, having his hands up in defence as he followed Bakugo into the elevator.

Annoyed, he didn't bother giving the red-head a glance, standing strictly straight, eyes locked on the closing elevator doors, hands balled at his sides, a growl in his tone as he spoke.

"Keep it in your pants for once, will yah?"

Kirishima cocked his head, looking at his friend slyly.

"So... you finally like the assistant I picked out for you?"

He had that playful tone of voice that Bakugo hated, the one that was always so adamant on embarrassing him.

"She's fine." He answered curtly, still with his focus on the clean view of Tokyo city through the glass walls of the elevator.

"Cute too." The red-head pushed, just like he always did.

Pushing his buttons, pushing his temper, pushing his sanity.

"Don't you think?"

The ash-blonde could hear the type of salacious, almost sadistic, mockery kept on Kirishima's tongue, how it seemed to drip with venom, those sharp teeth waiting to spot a weakness, only to pounce and sink them in deep.

"I guess." Bakugo offered, knowing ignoring the red-head was just as much use as indulging him, thinking that keeping his words short and arbitrary would help put an end to his friend's bloodlust.

But alas, the curt answer was more than enough to have the stars in Kirishima's red eyes go supersonic.

Kirishima smirked.

"Come on..."

The boss was stupid if he thought the sturdy-hero was going to let his obvious lack of dislike towards the pretty little helper go on unchecked.

"You're subtle but I see you."

His grin glinted, eyes shining with an eager will to tease.

"The way you look her up and down when she isn't looking."

Kirishima chuckled.

"I always knew you were a momma's boy."

Bakugo sighed with a rust, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to tune the mocking jeering of the stubborn rowdy male out of his mind, hoping to grab onto the calm he felt after talking to the assistant. The laughter of making fun of Deku now tainted by his own friend pulling his leg.

"You love seeing her clean up after you. Pick out your clothes, give you snacks... bet you wanna button up that blouse, give her tits a suck."

"For fuck's sake, Kiri, would you shut up?" The ash-blonde snapped and turned, brows set deep on his face, eyes narrowed to mere red slits as he glared at the grinning asshole he was stuck with.

"I worry about you, man!" Kirishima said in defence, worn hand coming to pet the seething threatening angry blonde's face, with no concern for being bitten, pinching and pulling on the chub of his cheek with a smile. "It's not natural to be this good looking and not fuck."

Bakugo pushed him off with a hand grabbing his collar, a snarl on his lips like the face of a wolf.

"Maybe I just ain't a hyperactive hormonic spaz like you." He seethed, letting him go with another shove.

"Yeah yeah, insult me all you want, you angry dandelion..."

Kirishima pulled himself off the glass-wall, still bearing his smile.

"But you know I'm right."

He straighten his tie and pulled on his jacket to flatten the wrinkles made by Bakugo's split-second hands-on anger.

"She's perfect for you, man. Sweet and nice, smart and tough, cute as a fucking button, and so professional, so eager to please..." The red-head listed, trying to get another rise out of the explosion-hero. "I mean... could you imagine her down on her knees-"

"Stop." Bakugo's voice was definite, carrying the type of tone that made goosebumps spring to the surface, but as usual had no effect on the sturdy-hero.

"Oh, so you have already?" He teased, smiling knowingly.

"I'm this close to punching you, Shitty-hair."

Bakugo showed two fingers that were touching, but his threats hadn't spooked Kirishima in a long time.

"I'm just calling 'em like I see 'em." The red-head said, knowing they were as thick as thieves despite all the empty-threats and crude name-calling, and how the elevator was their boys locker-room where they could share all wolfish dirty secrets.

He just needed to give the blonde a little nudge and he'd soon fold.

"You wanna tap that, zip her out of that skirt, bend her over your lap-"

"I swear, Kiri..." Bakugo growled, but with less acute anger this time, a difference Kirishima had learned meant he was lowering his walls, granting him enough of an opening to cut him off.

"If you're scared, we can do it together, Kachan~" He laughed, and the blonde sighed heavily, closing his eyes, exasperated to the point of defeat.

"I fucking hate this elevator..." He mumbled.

"What?!" The red-head feigned offence, clutching his chest. "We have our most important conversations in here!"

"Fuck you." Dynamight drawled, trying his best to fight off the small smile itching to spread on his face, body slumping in defeat, hunching forward as he rolled his eyes.

"No, fuck her." His friend urged in a whisper like the devil on his shoulder.

"She's useful." The ash-blonde argued, but the red-head merely clicked his tongue at the weak statement, offering a solution.

"Then fuck her and marry her."

"Just don't touch her."

Bakugo was serious, more so than what he usually was, and Kirishima could tell by the way he looked him directly in his eye, pools of red bleeding into a set of equally red puddles.

The sturdy-hero laughed, slapping a hand on the other man's shoulder and giving it a firm reassuring squeeze.

"Don't worry, boss."

Kirishima smiled, a smile lacking the childish mockery from before, a friendly trustworthy smile, the smile Bakugo knew was reserved for only the very few that knew him through and through.

"She's all yours."

.

Next day, Bakugo walked into his office. His schedule, newspaper, coffee and snack were already lined up on the desk which had his gauntlets looking just shy of brand-new if it weren't for the marring in the paint-job. His hero-costume too, which he'd left in a heap on the wet floor the day prior, was not only hung to avoid creasing but washed free of rumble and smoke from yesterday's patrol.

"Bloody hell... is she a suck-up or a work-a-holic?" He breathed, noting how the floors had been polished as well, strictly clean, and that the mess that had littered the bookshelf with fan-mail and other documents he hadn't bothered to sort out was now tidy, papers neatly placed in binders labeled with easily understood titles, organised after importance. "Probably afraid I'll fire her..."

Not before he'd taken in the total lack of chaos, coming to terms with how it was still his office, getting over the feeling that he wasn't welcome in the sheer tidiness of everything, shook from the questions he voiced out loud about the assistant, was the vixen herself standing outside his door, drumming a little tune on the glass separating them.

"Come in." He granted, watching as she popped open the handle and stepped inside, same practical boots from the day before, but accompanied by white-knitted leg-warmers this time as it was a colder day. The blouse was swapped out for a warmer sweater, large on her small frame, but the skirt remained the same, tight over the curve of her ass, formfitting running down her thighs, a slit in the overlapping fabric, giving for a peek at her one knee.

It was enough to make his throat tighten.

"Did you see?"

His eyes traveled up to her face.

"What?" He nearly stuttered, almost tripping on his tongue and the water pooling beneath it.

"The popularity poll!" She squealed, walking with hurried enthusiastic steps over to his desk. "You've already risen five places! And it hasn't even been a full twenty-four hours yet!"

She supported her tablet on her forearm, resting her elbow on her hip, similar to how one would hold a toddler.

He didn't know why he was making the comparison.

Or he did...

"I always thought GEMGD was a bully, turns out he's just a bit rough around the edges. That smirk has me weak. Explosion-boy looks even hotter in a suit! Dynamight makes my heart go boom!" She read aloud. "All the comments are for you! And they're endless."

Her finger scrolled through the display on the screen, eyes running over the fan-comments beneath Deku's post of the two of them. The green-haired freckle-faced hero smiling a big gritted grin, eyes scrunched closed from the force of it, whereas her ash-blonde boss bore a more crazed expression, open-mouthed smirk stretched across his face, way huskier than his goofy counterpart who'd also had the audacity to throw up a a peace sign behind him, looking like a pair of bunny-ears; Deku's trademark.

She decided not to comment on how cute they looked.

"They're begging pro-hero Deku to post more of his quote on quote best friend."

"You said one lousy picture?"

He raised a brow, looking displeased.

She bit her lip, and he really wished she didn't as he felt the pull in his pants immediately, something twitching by the display of her looking down at her feet, something so unfairly sexy in the timidity of her grinding the tip of her toe into the floor.

"Well... what I meant was that... one lousy picture could spark something..." She explained sheepishly. "We'll still have to feed the fire a bit from time to time."

She bent down to gather the cardboard shipping package he'd ignored once stepping inside his office, dropping the large box down on the desk with a thud.

"But you're a big boy- you can survive a photoshoot every now and again, and a couple of ten minute interviews."

He should tell her to fuck off with the name-calling, but damn... he really didn't want to.

"Oh- that reminds me-"

Small hands laid flat on the top of the box, she drummed on the cardboard with her fingers.

"Heroes Fashion Magazine request you model for them."

"Modeling?" He nearly shouted, face twisted in confused disgust, offended she'd even suggest such a thing. "Fuck no."

"Well-" She ignored his outburst. "I said we'll consider it and they already sent over a box."

She patted the package put down on his desk with a smile.

"I took the liberty of taking a look and I think you'll actually find what they've come up with in your image quite amazing."

Her attitude was a nice thing in the morning, he thought, despite talking about things he didn't give a shit about.

"They've done some designs based around your trademark skull, which I think will be a huge aid, given right now it's associated more with villainous things rather than heroic, when we want to give the image of a badass and not a bully."

And there she goes with the fucking nicknames again, making his head hot.

"Also, Pro-hero Deku would like to post a picture of the two of you in your youth."

"He's already posted the class-photo." The boss mumbled.

"I believe this one is more in the time of your kindergarten days." She informed, searching through the files kept in her bag, pulling out a sheet of paper. "Here, I printed it out for you."

Laying the picture on the desk, she smiled with a tilt of her head, looking over the two boys' bright faces, her boss wearing a black T-shirt with a skull-print on it, similar to the one the paparazzi so often catches him wearing when dressing casually. She found it quite adorable and amusing how the design seemed to have grown up alongside him. Then there was the All-Might trading-cards the two of them clutched so protectively in each their small hands, their ambition of following the great hero in his footsteps clear in their large eyes.

"It's cute." She stated.

And though it was put simply, the comment nearly had him blush if he hadn't given his thigh a rough pinch to control himself, head pounding from yesterday's conversation with Kirishima in the elevator, unable to look at her or listen to her without twisting everything into a something dirty.

"I think it'll be good to show the public you were a bit of a geek."

And then there was the fucking teasing name-calling shot at him left and right.

He could prove to her how much of a geek he was. He was a boy-scout. He still remembers every knot in the book.

He would love to try them all out on her-

"Fine." He gruffly voiced his approval, quitting his own raving thoughts.

She made a couple movements on the screen to her tablet, noting his answer.

"Very well, sir, I'll inform him."

And at that she turned on her heel to leave.

"Oi, toots." He called. "Stay."

Stopping in her tracks, she spun around and blinked, preparing herself for a correction or a scolding in the form of a loud slew of curse-words.

"Something's been bothering me."

She felt her heart climb up her throat, as though she'd swallowed some living creature who fought to claw its way to freedom through her mouth.

"My coffee’s different every time." He stated, voice strangely serious to be discussing coffee. "It’s... not bad. Just weird." He informed, and she was left with another deafening pause to wonder what she'd done that was an issue. "Is your quirk making coffee or something?"

He'd been wondering what the tiny assistant had been gifted with for a while, not having found it on file as it probably wasn't worth the effort. Deciding, as her boss, it was in his rights to to simply demand an answer of his employee.

She blinked.

"Oh-"

Her heart rested and she exhaled in relief, smiling while giving a short laugh.

"My quirk." She repeated, resting her focus, forgetting her anticipation of being shunned and fired. "Well... uhm..."

Her brows knitted, pondering what way best to describe her rather mundane quirk to the man who literally sweats explosives.

"Boring and stereotypical, or ironic, as it may sound, it's called Assist." She informed, hands displayed in offering. "Basically... I guess... you could say that I naturally know what people need and how to assist them." She explained, but came to her own correction quickly. "It only counts for small things though..." She blurted out. "You know, like... what type coffee you'd prefer and... whether you wish for your schedule to be printed out or sent to you."

The man gave a huff, indicating his understanding.

"Obviously, you wouldn't be working here if you could cure cancer."

He wore a new type of smile she hadn't seen yet, a type of smug grin she'd expect to see on haughty jocks back in middle-school, eyes jaded, relaxed as he looked at her.

"Practically made for this job, aren't yah?"

She nearly pouted, but sucked it up and stiffened her upper lip.

"It might sound mediocre, but it sure comes in handy." She defended herself, raising her chin proudly. "So while you’re off keeping the world safe, I’ll be here tending the fort, keeping you happy."

He gave another smile and a small amused chuckle, eyes gleaming in a way she found deeply unsettling, the same type of eerie focus she'd seen displayed on Kirishima, the type of look she wanted to run from.

"Hate to break it to you, buttercup, but it’ll take a lot more than a good cup of coffee to make me happy."

She swallowed thickly, trying to keep up appearances despite feeling her face drain.

"Ah- of course, sir."

She ignored her additional sense telling her he was thirsting for something far different than coffee altogether. Wishing she could rid herself of the feeling before allowing her mind to slip and stray to what indecencies she felt were suggested in his tone, knowing she was being ridiculous for even thinking that her esteemed boss was hinting at something of the sort, knowing it was all most likely due to her own stupid female instinctive fears twisting his words.

But then she felt the unmistakable pull of her quirk telling her the truth of it.

Her cheeks heated as the treacherous urge to assist him with his needs arose like instinct, feeling the place between her thighs get hot as she busied herself with reminders that he was a public servant who protects. That he would never ask something like that of her even if he humoured the thought within the privacy of his own mind.

He was her boss.

An honourable man.

A respectable professional.

A hero.

But a man nonetheless. And she can't blame people for having urges, and perhaps... was her skirt too short maybe?

His focus left her and she felt like she could breathe properly again, still feeling dizzy as she watched his hands aim for the newspaper, his eyes skimming the headings.

"At least you’re not useless like the last one." He offered and she gladly accepted, too thankful to be let off his stare to pick up the derogatory substance of his sentence.

Face brightening a smidge.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

She brushed the icky feeling of his former attitude off on the fact that boys gotta be boys sometimes, just the same as girls will be girls at moments too, though not able to discard of the incident completely without giving her outfit a second thought and the mildly seductive gloss she wore on her lips, feeling stupid while thinking it was perhaps in her best interest to say goodbye to the tight pencil-skirt hugging her ass.

"Sir."

Dismissing herself, she turned her back, red eyes looked up from pretending to read as she opened the door and slipped out, leaving her boss to his own thoughts.

Her quirk should be called Housewife.

.

Following his schedule, he left early, the little assistant wishing him luck from where she sat working at her desk, waving him goodbye with dancing fingers as the elevator doors slowly closed and sent him down to ground level.

Patrol was uneventful in its boring four hour-long walk. A couple of small-fry villains quaking in their boots, regretting picking Pro-hero Dynamight's district as he sent them flying, leaving them to be scraped from the sidewalk up by his sidekicks.

Finding himself counting the minutes until he'd be back in the office.

Good thing it was a quiet day in the streets, what with him being so very distracted and all, conjuring up dirty pictures of his cute little assistant. Sitting at her desk with her knees glued together, squeezing her thighs close, so oblivious to his stares. Lost in her own world when planning his itinerary for him, making herself so useful for him, his pretty little helper, doing her best to keep her promise, to make him happy. Hand holding onto her pen, tip of it caught in her mouth, plump lips having no issue sucking on the small thing, making his head spin, thinking of how she'd handle something bigger.

He came back just shy of ten o'clock, happy to miss getting caught with Kirishima in the elevator again.

But, the sturdy-hero had already sowed his seeds in the muck of the explosion-hero's head, and the roots had already twisted their way through his gut, flowers blooming, nectar oozing and dripping, spilling down the vines, sweetening his senses, pollen fogging up his mind, only allowing him to think of one pretty little busy worker-bee, and how he wanted her to lick up his honey-spill-

"The fuck are you wearing?"

This was the last fucking straw. She couldn't be fucking serious with her innocent act, she had to be doing this on purpose.

She looked up from her tablet, eyes round as she processed his lack of greeting, before looking down at her clothes, trying to spot what he was attacking.

"Oh- I tripped with my coffee and spilled it all over my sweater, so I decided to- uhm- test out the product...?" She explained, pulling on the black fabric to the oversized hoodie she'd pulled on.

His trademark large white skull plastered on the front.

His head pounded, growing hotter, boiling, palms sweaty at his sides, tongue feeling heavy and large with the sting of sweet saliva pooling beneath it. Something snapped in his pelvis, drumming, pumping, growing warm and heavy, thankfully kept hidden in the expanse of his large cargo-pants.

"You should model." He let slip, eyes kept on the hoodie thrown on her tiny shape.

The cut was definitely finer, skull tweaked to look uniquely and unmistakably Dynamight. The edges were rough, decidedly unfinished. She'd tied the strings to the hood into a little bow on her collar, but he hadn't the time to bask in the details, when he was too caught up in thinking how it looked as though she'd put on one of his hoodies, mind forcing forth the thought of him having fucked her good first, made her sweaty and dumb on his dick before finishing up with dressing her up, showing the entire world how she belonged to him.

He cleared his throat, brought back to reality by the blank face she gave him, puzzled by his prior comment, undecided whether it was an inappropriate compliment or not.

He wouldn't give her any more time to think about it too much.

"Tell the magazine people they have a go on the merch."

She let his former comment slip, deciding to forget about it.

"And the modelling?"

"Thirty minutes tops." He answered, walking towards his office.

"Very well, sir. I'll inform HFM right away." The cheeriness in her tone had him curl his brows and squeeze his eyes shut, fists clenched at his sides, stiff as he opened the door.

"I have reports, don't bother me." He informed coldly, not waiting for a reply before he shut his door, never giving her a second glance, even as he handled the remote that had his blinds gliding over his windows, leaving him alone in the darkness of his office, no pretty assistant with adorable doe-eyes giving him anxious flickering looks as he unbuckled his belt and popped the button to his pants, zipping open his fly to free the painfully erect large tented bump in his boxers.

"M'fuuhck..."

His mind reeled, letting his eyes glide close.

Where would he take her first?

Hmm...

His hand dipped beneath the band of his expensive black briefs, running over a bush of mousy blonde curls to wrap around the warm thickness fighting desperately against its confinement.

On the desk?

Lay her down on her back, hand on her throat, thighs spread by his hips, legs tangled over his back, keeping him close, moaning so prettily for him, perky tits bouncing on every thrust up into her tight cunt, nipples hard between his lips. She'd gasp as he bit down on the little nubs, cry out for him, eyes large and glossy looking up at him, waiting for her orders.

"Fucking hell..." He groaned, tugging slowly on his base, so sensitive he had to hiss when his thumb brushed over a particular pulsating purple vein, bulging tip blushed an angry red, a drop of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit, running down his shaft, getting caught on his fingers as he smeared the wetness up and down his length.

Or maybe he should bend her over it instead?

Pretty tits mushed against the desk, her small wrists caught in a cross behind her back, held tightly in his fist, cute face blushed red and dewy with sweat, pressed against the cool glass, lips parted and panting for breath, crying just a bit by how her hips would ache against the edge of the table, but blissful nonetheless with his cock filling her up snugly form behind, cute ass smiling at him, begging for him to give the soft plush flesh a squeeze or a little slap that would have her yelp and hiccup on her moans.

"Fuck..." He chewed his bottom-lip, fucking up into his hand slowly, savouring the feel of his fingers wrapped tightly, rubbing over every sensitive vein, squeezing on them just like her tight pussy would.

On his black Italian-leather chair?

Have her kneel on the seat, back curved like a pretty little kitty, ass arched up into him, rubbing against his crotch, teasing him desperately for his cock. He'd have his hand yanking her hair back, strong fingers tangled in her soft locks, making her stare up at him, her hands gripping onto the plush chair for support, nails marring the leather as he rocks into her, make her drool at the curve of his cock brushing up into her cervix, his other hand slithered around her stomach, coarse finger painting cruelly delicious patterns into her throbbing little clit.

"Nah..."

He'd fuck her against the window.

All of Tokyo at his feet, laid bare before him, just like his tiny tight assistant wrapped around his cock, clinging to him so needfully, small soft hands holding onto him, thrown around his shoulders and down his back, warm doughy thighs hugging around his torso, squealing for him each time he snaps his hips forward, buried deep in her grateful little wet cunt. Pretty words on her lips.

Am I doing good, sir? Please, sir, I want to make you happy... I want to give you what you need~ I want to help you, sir. I want to be useful to you, sir. Please, let me be useful~ Thank you, sir~

I love you, sir.

"Holy fuck-"

He bit his tongue, feeling a bead of sweat roll down his temple.

Good thing she'd been a doll and placed a new packet of clean-wipes on his desk... what with the white mess decorating it.

.

The boss remained in his office well beyond working hours.

She contemplated whether or not she should knock on the door and tell him she was clocking out, but decided it was unnecessary in the end as he'd given her strict instructions not to bother him.

Coming back early next morning, walking into the spacious floor only to find her desk, not exactly cleaned out, but gone entirely.

The blinds where still drawn before Mr. Bakugo's office, where she, anxious as it made her, walked to the door and knocked.

He was prepared to bark at anyone to leave him the fuck alone, but recognising the delicate tune drummed on his door, he would make an exception.

"Come in."

"Morning, boss..." She stated timidly, as though something was amiss and he felt his gut wrench in fear that she might have heard him moaning her name all day long the day prior when he was supposedly doing paperwork reports. "I hate to ask... but have you seen my desk-" She asked, before turning her head to look over what was taking up the former empty corner-space in her boss' office.

"It's been moved." He informed while she took in the relocation of her usually lonely desk, still positioned four meters away from mr. Bakugo's desk, yet no longer separated by neither glass wall or blinds. "Is that a problem?" He dared.

"No..." She replied, still confused as to what purpose the change would benefit, but mostly if he at all would like it this way, be it beneficial or not. "But are you sure I won't be a bother?"

She's been a bother from the start.

"I ain't here too often." He explained.

"Well then..."

She fiddled with her fingers, braiding hem together as she briefly thought it over, thinking she actually wouldn't mind a space of her own where she could escape the lingering stares of one certain conversational red-haired hero.

"This is perfect!" She cheered then, not in need of more convincing. "Saves me the time of knocking."

She smiled, placing her bag on her chair, already liking her little nook in the office, gratefully admiring how whomever had moved her desk had made sure everything was still in their designated place, eyes skimming the digital clock stating the time, brows furrowing.

"You're here very early?"

Her question gave him just enough of a warning before she turned around to look at him, allowing him the time to take his eyes off her ass and wipe his expression free of the sour look he'd adopted when spotting how she wasn't wearing the skirt he'd come to love.

"I didn't leave." He confessed, flipping the page of the hero-magazine he was pretending to be absorbed in.

"Have you not slept?" She sounded worried, and his gut warmed at her sweet motherly tone, hand twitching, wanting to pet his cock despite having wrung it for every drop his balls were worth all night.

He sighed heavily, a type of growl that sounded fed-up.

"I have."

"Not well, I gather?" She pushed, as though scolding him, placing his coffee, newspaper and schedule down on his desk.

"It's fine."

He reached for the coffee, stomach fluttering for the taste of what new flavour she'd concocted for him today, though letting none of his excitement show on his face.

She hummed in suspicious thought.

"Well, you don't have patrol until two o'clock, which isn't for another eight hours."

Tapping her pointer-finger on the schedule placed before him, she continued.

"And as you have the time, where there are no ongoing big cases that require your attention at the moment, I could make arrangements for you to sleep on the couch in the conference room, or you could go home and have a nap before returning-"

"I ain't a child, toots." He glared at her, face in a frown.

She took it lightly, which only served to frustrate him even more, with how she seemed to brush away his anger like a mother does her temper-tantrum-throwing child.

"Of course not, sir."

"Then quit suggestion shit like naps." He ordered.

"Very well, sir."

She nodded, still with that small soft smile that seemed unshakable.

"Have you eaten?"

Why ask if she already knows the answer!?

He gripped the arm-rest, knuckles turning white in his frustration.

"No..." Voice in a muddled grumble, childishly admitting defeat.

"Well then..." Her tone so charmingly patronising, eyes soft as she looked at him. "Does the grown man want a snack?"

Who the fuck does she think she is!?

Poking fun at her own boss like it's nothing?!

Not just her boss, but one of Japan's greatest and toughest heroes!

Ridiculing him in his own fucking office!

He ought to teach her a little lesson...

But for fuck's sake- just give him his fucking snack already!

He snatched the offered food from her palm with another grunt, slumping back in his chair.

"Wipe that fucking smile off your face."

Her lips pulled further up into a smile, making her eyes shine.

"I'll try my best, sir."

.

It was late, roughly seven o'clock, and everyone had long gone home for the day. But, with the rising her boss had done in the popularity ranks, he'd received a ton of new fan-mail, which she felt the need to go through before calling it a day.

Meaning, she was there alone.

However, not for much longer, for as she was slipping the last fan-letter into it's designated binder, was someone staggering into the office.

She nearly screamed, jumping from her seat, needing to squint for a moment or two to recognise who it was, not having noticed she'd been working in the dark for the last half hour. But, as her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room did she not only identify her boss, but also the blood staining him.

"Oh my goodness!" She squealed, hurrying over, helping him to the chair. "Are you okay!?"

It wasn't fair to him that she was this perfect.

"It's nothing." He brushed off, groaning as he repositioned himself in a strive to get more comfortable with the ache in his body.

"Are you sure?"

She sounded too sweet, too worried when looking at him, brows knitted all hopelessly, eyes large and shimmering, lips formed into a little pout.

If she kept looking at him like that he was sure to do something he might regret.

"What?" He snapped, shaking her from her blank-staring state.

She gave a little whimper.

"Nothing..."

Shaking her head just a bit, yet remained just as distressed.

"It’s just..."

She bit her lip, eyes skimming over the many bleeding cuts decorating his upper-body, no mind to the blood staining her own clothes from helping him sit down.

"It's just- uhm- your needs are all over the place."

He chuckled, unable to hold it back, finding her absolutely adorable.

"Then get to them."

It feels good having a pretty little thing fuss over nothing more than a couple of scratches.

"Isn't that your job?"

She drew in a breath, trying to toughen up with a nod.

"Of course, sir."

Walking to the bookshelf, she started pulling out drawers, mumbling some to herself.

"Assistant, receptionist, maid, baby-sitter- Mr. Kirishima should have put nurse on the list of qualifications as well..."

Coming back, she slid a rocks-glass onto the desk, lifting the diamond lid from the crystal whisky-bottle before pouring him a drink. Proceeding to pull out cotton-pads and disinfectant, resting her butt against the desk as she reached out small pretty hands, softly caressing his chin to steady him when with the other hand dabbing softly at the cut on his brow.

"Does it hurt?" She asked, eyes focussed on her task. "I'm sorry, stupid question, obviously it hurts." Dismissing herself with a shake of her head, she shut up in favour of focussing.

He didn't care much that it was a stupid question to ask.

Not when she was this sweet with him.

She continued working, placed between him on the chair and the desk she leaned on. Her knees between his knees, right in front of him. Tight black jeans, form-fitting around her thighs, over the curve of her hips, tightened in a stop at her waist with a black belt, where his large hands would sit so perfectly, squeezing her, pulling her close.

He didn't know what he was doing before it was done.

Hands placed exactly where he'd imagined them, hoisting her up to sit on the cool glass surface of his desk.

"Sir? wha-"

He grabbed her chin before she could finish, fingers pressing into the adorable chubs of her cheeks, squishing her lips into a soft pillowy welcome, greeting his lips with ease as he pushed forward, sinking in, mushing his face against hers, kissing softly, slowly and yearningly, without teeth and without aggression, but deeply, with passion, with an urge to stop breathing, incessantly, with a mellow yet disturbingly hungry bottomless obsession, with a thirst to put a fire out.

Her brows furrowed. Hands dropping the blood-dirtied cotton pad when needing to meet with the warmth of his chest, steadying him in his needy pursuit.

She had been so adamant on making it.

So determined on succeeding at this job so many others had failed in.

She was so certain she could survive crude merciless curse-words flung at her face, completely aware she wouldn't be receiving any form of appreciation back for her hard work.

She'd heard Kirishima would try his best to have his go and was prepared to block any of his advances, having made peace with the fact.

But... having brushed-off the cries of her quirk, she wasn't at all expecting to have to deal with choking on her own boss forcing his tongue down her throat as well.

She couldn't pull away, wasn't allowed to, only able to keep her eyes wide as her boss sucked her face, finally detaching with a thick string of drool connecting their tongues, his heated gaze troubling her, suddenly feeling very small, stuck and caught before his tall massive muscled form.

Her sixth sense was a boiler at this point.

"Ah- I- I think I should leave, sir." She tripped at the taste of his tongue, keeping her lips parted, hesitant on swallowing the mixture of his and her spit caught dripping, smeared and painted on the walls of her mouth.

His breath was warm on her face, panted on her glossy wet lips.

He didn't pull any further off, even after her statement, finding it quite amusing how small her tiny little hands were, placed on his chest as though it would do her any good.

Looking into her large anxious little eyes, he could only think of two things.

She'll definitely quit if he let's her leave now...

... and he can't afford to lose her...

And with that in his mind his hands moved from the chubs of her cheeks to her throat.

"Ah- sir?" She gasped, but the breath caught in her throat, kept from her by the way his hands slowly and carefully squeezed her free of air.

Her hands clung to his arms, trying to push him off, tears given just enough time to slip from her moon-wide eyes, but he remained happy when she gave out quickly.

Like a flower in a forest fire.

.

She awoke softly.

Looking like a scene in a movie.

A way too cute girl laid down in a bed of expensive black sheets she didn't belong in.

He'd brushed the locks of hair out of her face, half-way submerged in the dune of his pillow, small hand clutching the air in her sweet dreaming.

Soft snores left the rise and fall of her chest where he'd done the dirty deed of removing her blood-stained clothes, leaving her in a pretty pink lace-bra, cupping the light weight of her breasts in a rosey pattern just shy of being see-through, and her cute matching panties, a simple and chaste piece, but still so very tempting in it's innocence.

He'd needed to stop himself before going too far, his rough hands running over smooth plush flesh, becoming addicted to the softness before backing off with a frustrated groan, pulling his armchair up to the bed, reduced to simply watching her, studying every freckle adorning her flawless shape. Every curve, every dip, noting down some unexpected scars marring her skin, cocking his head at the marks, wondering what caused them, if she was a clumsy little thing who snagged herself on sharp things or if she somehow was a tiny little brawler at some time. He chuckled at the thought, thinking the former was more likely.

She made a moan, humming out a tiny pretty whimper as her brows furrowed, scrunching as she grasped for the light seeping in through her eyelids.

"Morning."

He rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as he hunched forward with his lips kissing his knuckles, monitoring her with keen eyes.

"How're you feeling?"

He knew she was fine.

He'd choked her out with expertise, knowing with out-most certainty he hadn't hurt her, only merely forced her into a safe temporary loss of consciousness.

Her eyes fluttered open, stirred by his gravely tone, met with blurry surroundings.

Brows remaining curled as she blinked slowly on repeat, confused and adorable as she tried adjusting her eyes to the light, most definitely disoriented.

The poor thing.

"Scared shitless, I bet."

With eyes growing larger, and breath picking up speed she flushed and shivered on a coat of goosebumps upon the voice, finding her boss sitting in an armchair a rough meter away from the soft but foreign bed she was placed in.

"Mr. Bakugo?" She croaked, eyes growing more and more swivelled with panic, mind crumbling, spinning and splitting until it ached when peering down at herself, seeing she was in nothing but her flimsy undergarments. "I don't understand-" She spluttered. "What happened? What-"

Panicking, she tried covering herself up with the Egyptian-cotton-sheets, a type of soft comfort he bet she'd never had the luxury of feeling against her skin.

"Where am I?"

He pushed himself up from his chair and come to her side, trying to calm her down once she started hyperventilating at the sight of her bound hands.

"You're safe. M'sorry I tied you up-"

His attempt at soothing her wasn't appreciated, only aiding in making her even more panicked.

"What's going on- sir? What did I do? What did... what did you do?"

She tried scurrying away from him, pushing with the balls of her feet digging into the mattress.

"You... tried to kill me."

"No." He dismissed with a click of his tongue, grabbing her conjoined wrists as he climbed after where she tried to worm herself away from him, pulling her back to rest on the pillow. "I just knocked you out." He defended, tone casual as though it was the most obvious thing, as though she was overreacting.

"Knock me out? Why- You-"

Tears sprung to her eyes as she writhed beneath the large man, feeling smaller by the second, weak and helpless as he loomed above her.

"Quit being scared, I ain't gonna hurt you." He cooed, trying to control her struggles by gripping her waist, needing to tighten the grip where she thrashed around like a fish out of water, aiming to fend him off with hitting at him with her bound hands.

"Please let me go, please, I- I won't tell anyone, I promise, I promise, sir, I-" She pleaded, but Bakugo couldn't care for the hysteria cooped up in her ditzy little head, annoyed with her pathetic rambling, needing to make her understand the new situation.

"Shut up, toots."

His fingers found the plush of her cheeks roughly and squished them to make her still, chuckling crudely at how large and hopeless her eyes shown up at him.

"You think you can play perfect little housewife and not own up to it?"

His eyes had her frozen, glowing scarlet with crazed predatory heat, the carved knifelike smile on his face looking like that of a hyena in a hunting frenzy, eyeing cornered prey.

"Uhm- sir?" She whimpered, twisting at the stench of his breath wafting over her face with warmth.

"You stopped wearing that skirt I liked." He dismissed her. "Got tired of your quirk telling you how I needed to bend you over my desk?"

She gasped, eyes widening even more, going completely silent, dead-still under his touch if it weren't for the heavy sporadic rise and fall of her chest.

"You're scaring me-" She whimpered and his smile grew, eyes going dull, lazy with awe at her adorable little pitiful face.

"And the lipgloss-" He ignored her outcry again. "You stopped wearing that too."

He scrunched her face tighter between his fingers, making her whimper beneath him.

"Too freaked out by how your boss needed you to come into his office and lock the door behind you?"

She hiccuped at the feel of her heart jumping to her throat and how his eyes seemed to want to drown her in red.

"How I needed you down on your knees in that tight pencil-skirt, plump pink lips wrapped warm wet and nice around my cock."

"Mr. Bakugo-"

"What? You gonna make me some tea? Help me calm down?" He teased, drawing in closer, face less than an inch form hers where tears spilled rapidly from her poor glass-eyes. "Nah... what's your quirk telling you that I really need right now, huh?"

She trembled, shaking her head.

"I- I don't understand-"

"You don't understand?" He interrupted, voice pouty in mockery. "Just so innocent, huh?"

She thought she might faint when feeling his hand drumming thick sand-paper fingertips down the soft skin of her stomach.

"'Cause... to me it feels like I need to be eight inches deep in my tiny assistant's tight twat."

She started sobbing then, wanting to push him off or hold onto her underwear when he hooked his fingers into the flimsy band and starting running them down her thighs. Unable to do anything when kept levelled by the eyes staring her deep in her little terrified soul and the hand holding her cheeks, forcing her to face him. Where no amount of struggling would loosen the rope keeping her wrists together, only succeeding in chaffing the delicate soft skin found there.

"Sir, please- think about this- ah- please- don't- don't do this."

Her legs kicked, but small as she was all he needed to was push her knees aside, spread her wide, the cool air kissing her bare cunt, quivering beneath him.

"You're too obsessed with giving people what they need." He drawled, body sagging in awe at the pretty sight in front of him, her cute face torn with anxiety, caught in his hand, lips juicy wet with tears as she sucked in her breaths, in full focus on him and his hand coming to play with her scared little sex. "How about I give you what you need for once?"

"No- sir, please, stop."

She tried twisting away, tried inching further up on the bed, scurrying away from his touch, but wasn't given the freedom.

"You said you wouldn't hurt me-" She accused, voice wet and broken with hopeless betrayal, desperate to make him stop.

"And I ain't gonna hurt you-" He reassured, though acting as the farthest thing from assuring as he dipped his roughened fingertips into her soft tender folds, messaging the slit gently. "I'mma take care of you, proper care."

She felt like she was suffocating, throat tightening, tongue a heavy foreigner in her mouth, the room a taste of blood.

"Truth is, little assistant, you make me hate being alone." Tone so very gratingly overbearing, burning in her head, words like flames licking at her ears. "Only right you fix it."

She whined in protest.

"Please, sir, stop-"

Insisting in small prayers, blubbering like a little bawling toddler, lips quivering, shaking on each sob.

He lifted his hand and put two of his fingers into his mouth, gathering a thick coat of saliva on them before motioning it back between her thighs.

"I need you warming my bed more than I need you running errands anyway." He whispered, smearing the thickness of his digits between her folds, running over her clit before skewering his middle-finger inside her tight little hole.

She wrenched uncomfortably.

"Please, sir-"

Quaking on her shaking sobs with her breaths hitching in her throat, thighs jolting, squirming in small pitiful hopeless struggles.

"Shh, baby." He cooed, but she only cried harder. "I won't hurt you- promise." Repeating the vow, he placed a chaste kiss to the side of her mouth, tasting the salt of tears on his tongue. "It's just like you said..."

He continued laying a trail of wet slobbering kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin playfully with the teeth of his smirk, watching with idle eyes her chest heaving in shallow panicked breaths.

"You just keep up the good work..."

His finger pumped into her slowly, thick and boney, crooked by many years of breaking bones, both his own and others, reaching in deep, hooking into the tender spongey wall, so sensitive at the hand of his brazen confident touches it made her moan.

"You keep me happy, while I go save the world."

♡ P2: Housewife ♡ Bakugou Katsuki masterlist ♡ BNHA masterlist

hey!

lollllll, don't mind this

every day is a fool’s day in here