My Hero Academia Drabble - Blog Posts

MORE KIRI STUFF YOU WRITE HIM AMAZINGGGG

⋆˚࿔ an orchid’s pollen

just as you find your artistic inspirations running low, a sweet flower boy sweeps in and gives you a new perspective on things.

contains: gn!reader, pre-established relationship, fluff, written + smau!!

authors note: thank u sm for the request AND compliment?? omg ur spoiling me 🤗 anywho i love kiri and i’ve had this idea for a minute now i’m soo happy i finally came around to writing it. this is for all the students or artist that are struggling rn :) u got this !!

word count: 2.8k

wandering. that’s what you were doing. wandering and pondering. 

the new school semester had left you with a fresh start; a clean canvas that you could fill however you wanted. the question was, what did you want?

even though you didn’t want to admit it, the evidence was there; you were slowly dwindling into an artist block. your motivation was low, school assignments being the only thing encouraging you to pick up your paint brush everyday. 

you groaned, your feet heavy on the pavement. anyone passing would undoubtedly see your pained expression. 

some ancient reddit post you’d read this morning said a change of scenery could “spark your creativity”. what a load of crap.

though you couldn’t deny, it was a pretty nice day out.

you found yourself in a boldly decorated plaza that you somehow never knew was so close to your campus. there was a slight breeze, but it was a warm, comforting one. fairy lights hung from the tall rising lamp posts, lighting up the smooth stone path under the soles of your shoes. beside the lights were mini pink banners printed with flowers, which you knew represented the spring flowers blooming. most shops had large windows, showing whatever it was they were selling on the display shelves. 

you scanned the side of the street you are on; a cafe, an antique shop, a bakery, another cafe. yeah, you weren’t feeling inspired. if anything you were feeling hungry. 

you moved your gaze to the other side of the street. more cafes, a clothing shop, and—.

a glimpse of a colorfully embellished shop caught your attention, managing to stand out on the already brightly decorated street. 

you picked up your pace, trying to get a clear view of the window. 

exploding with color were flowers planted on the window sill. there was a fair arrangement of different types of flowers with delicate shades of every color you could think of. roses, tulips, lilies. baby blue, lavender purple, golden yellow. 

your eyes widened, maybe that reddit post wasn’t lying after all. 

you quickly ran across the street.  

now, in front of the shop, you could see how pretty the flowers really were. their petals were shooting towards the sky, clearly having been grown in amazing conditions. 

you stared at the plants in awe for a moment. the petals seemed to speak back. your breath hitched and something sparked. you moved to pull out your phone, wanting to ensure you wouldn’t miss this perfect canvas opportunity. but before you could, a soft voice spoke up. 

“hello! could i help you with anything?” 

your body stiffened at the sudden disturbance. you looked over to where the voice had come from.

your eyes locked onto red ones.

the pair of eyes belonged to a boy who seemed to be around your age. he had bright red hair that stopped right below his chin though the back seemed to be longer, grazing along his nape. he had a sharp toothy grin plastered on his face, complimenting his soft eyes. you took notice in how he look just slightly disheveled, dirt speckled on his elbows and a thin line of sweat coating his forehead.

the green apron tied around his waist— which seemed to just barely wrap around his large figure —read: “daichi’s flowers”. the pockets of his apron seemed to be stuffed with hand tools; a white pair of what you assumed were gardening gloves, a scruffy towel, a pair of pruning shears, and a pack of seeds that you couldn’t quite make out the name of.

you realized how weird you must i’ve looked gawking at the flowers from outside the shop. 

“sorry! did i scare you?” the red haired boy brought his hand to the back of his hand, rubbing it awkwardly as he smiled apologetically.

you then realized you hadn’t replied to his first question. 

“oh— no! i mean— it’s fine.” you sputtered stupidly. nice going. “i was just browsing..” you attempted to justify.

“would you like to browse inside?”

your eyes narrowed, “welll…”

the inside of the shop smelt like heaven, a mix of pollen and a fruity incense hanging in the air. it only made sense but there were flowers everywhere. hydrangeas in mini clay pots, shrubs hanging from the ceiling, even lotus flowers floating around in little glass bowls. 

the shop glowed with a fluorescent yellow undertone, courtesy of the lantern shaded lights. music from a japanese pop band you didn’t know the name of played softly from the speakers above. the excessive amount of flowers led to simple decor, just a couple of paintings and photographs hung up on the walls. your shoes clunked against the white oak floor. it was really nice.

the employee hovered close behind you, not-so-subtle observing your every move. 

you shrugged it off and made your way to the right wall of the store— which was right beside the window display. there, they had different types of flowers neatly organized into wooden crates. taped onto each crate was a piece of paper with the name of the flower written and a short description. you leaned in, reading the script for the first crate of flowers lined up against the wall. 

chrysanthemum — for fidelity, joy, and long life. 

you tapped your finger against your hip. flowers have specific intentions?

you read on.

ranunculus —- for radiant charm and attractiveness.

dark center poppies — for beauty, magic, and eternal life. 

“they’re pretty cool right? mr daichi works really had to make sure all the flower bloom properly.” the boy chirped from behind your shoulder.

you straighten your posture and turn to face the boy. when you saw his grinning face— the way his smile hadn’t seemed to falter since you first encountered him —you felt something strange curl up in your chest.

 “…yeah.” you simply replied, too stifled to say much more. 

he didn’t allow silence to take up your interaction, quickly adding, “these are my favorite.” he pointed to a crated full of pink heavily petalled flowers. 

peony — for bravery, honor, good fortune, and self-expression. 

“i bring them to the gym.”

a smirk curled onto your lips, “you bring flowers to the gym?” you ask, tone just barely brushing the boundary of being teasing. you didn’t know the guy, but the idea of a big guy arriving at the gym with a blushing bouquet of peonies made you feel..  intrigued.

“yeah man! i gotta motivate my community somehow right?” he grinned, making large gestures with his hands as he spoke. 

your brows furrowed but the smile on your face remained. “does it work? like, encourage your gym members?”

“for sure! i know the guy at the front desk likes it! oh and last time bakubro loved them!” he stopped to scratch his cheek, “well.. he didn’t crush them like he usually does so i’d consider that a win.” the employee placed a thinking finger on his chin before nodding confidently and you laughed. suddenly your day felt a lot more hopeful. 

“okay well, do you have any flowers that could … get me out of a tough situation?”

“oh, trouble in paradise?” the boy grinned. 

you almost laughed again. painting and university was basically your entire life at the moment, leaving no time for relationship. (unless you consider your on and off time in the studio a relationship) “not quite..”

“then i’d suggest…” he walked further into the shop, skimming the shelves. you followed him until he stopped in front of a smaller crate. 

there laid a generous collection of reddish pink flowers with dark, glossy green leaves sprouting from their stems.

camellia — for desire, passion, and refinement. 

“these babies are absolutely gorgeous.” he carefully picked a flower from the crate and placed it out towards you, offering. “they should help you feel brand new.”

you took the flower, spinning it between your fingers to really examine it.

“they’re a type of bush, evergreen. so we sell them as singles.” 

you nodded at his words but really all your attention was on the camellia. 

you traced a delicate finger atop the petal. there was something so beautiful, so simple, about a single flower standing strong and still. the view pumped a familiar feeling through your blood; inspiration.

the employee must’ve taken notice in your admiration because not too long after his voice rose, “sooo, want me to ring that up for you?” he pointed back towards the register, a cheesy grin still on his face.

snapping out of your trance, meeting the red eyed boy's gaze for the second time that day. though now the sweetness had melted away, his eyes full of smoldering fire.  

and thought you wanted to do anything but douse that flame, you were a very broke art student. “i.. wasn’t planning on buying today. sorry.” you said sheepishly.

you began to put the flower back but he stopped you, gripping a firm hand on top of your wrist. “don’t!“

before you had time to react he pulled his hand away. you watched as he attempted to stuff it into his pockets but found they were full, so he just hid it behind his back. he brought his other hand to mouth and let off an awkward cough, “i mean, you seem like use it. to brighten your day, yaknow?”

you shook your head, confused.

“it’s on the house.”

“wha— are you sure? i could just leave it, it’s no big deal.” 

he nodded persistently, “i’m sure.”

you felt your cheeks grow warm. you weren’t sure if you were flattered or just embarrassed that this guy felt you needed handouts. 

you clenched the flower in your hand. “okay then,” you searched his apron for a name tag to no avail. “thank you..?”

thankfully he took the hint. “oh! kirishima! eijiro kirishima. and you’re..?”

“f/n l/n.”

“f/n l/n,” he repeated easily, the syllables rolling off his tongue. “l/n with the sticky situation, got it.”

you giggled. “well, thank you kirishima. for your help and—“ you carefully waved the flower, “this.”

“‘course! no problem at all.” he nodded.

you both stood there for a moment. you considered leaving then but for whatever reason the conversation felt unfinished. 

and like he read your mind, kirishima spoke up, “we get new flowers every friday.” you surveyed his face, his attitude seeming to have changed into a persuading one. “roses, sunflowers, sedums…” he trailed off. “um i guess what i’m trying to say is, you should stop by often! i swear these flowers bring good luck or something.” he chuckled, large hands finding their way to tangle up with his hair once again. 

“oh…” you blushed. was he flirting with you? “i’ll be really busy this semester...”

that was true. with your final project coming up you had to be super attentive to your work. 

“that’s fine!” he waved his hands frantically. “how about i text you whenever we get a new shipment? if you like the flowers we got then you could stop by.”

you were taken aback by his request, “you’d really do that?” you asked, but for some reason you felt like he wasn’t lying. he had such an honest, charismatic aura that you could clearly see when he first approached you at the front of the store and you were sure anyone else could spot from a mile away. 

“if it makes your day better then totally!” he proved, glowering in hospitality. 

“okay then. sure, why not.” i couldn’t hurt. occasionally text about flowers? yeah that couldn’t hurt at all. 

“awesome!” he pulled his phone out from his jean pocket and handed it to you. 

you typed your number in and gave it back. 

“kirishima!” the voice of an older man called from out of sight. “i need you out the back!”

“that’s my cue. guess i’ll see you when i see you, yeah?” he jogged off towards the back of the store, giving you two thumbs up as he did.  you shook you head and smiled, “yeah, yeah. see you.” you gave him one last nod before you walked out of the glass doors, the start of a new inspirational era for you in hand.

“kirishima.” 

the red haired boy, who was facing the opposite side of the street, spun around. “hey! there you are.” 

you had taken the same walk you did three weeks ago, ending up at the exact spot where you first noticed daichi’s flowers from across the plaza. “the shop’s on the other side of the street, you know that right?” you joked, gently nudging his shoulder.

he let out a playful laugh, “of course. i just wanted to walk you across the street.” he said, nudging you back.

“oh..” you bit the inside of your cheek, praying that the slight burn you felt wasn’t showing on the surface of your skin. “thanks.”

kirishima smiled and looked both directions before tilting his head towards the road. you both walked across the street together, safely making it to the entrance of the flower shop. 

“we’ve been pretty busy recently. with the season change and all that.” kirishima said as he opened the glass door for you. 

when you walked in, you felt a rush of calmness wash over you. the plants were in the same place they had when you last came— as a matter of fact there were even more —and the smell of the strawberry incense still flurried in the air. you could definitely get used to this. “i’m glad we could find time to hang out.” 

“me too.” you said. you ogled at all the new additions, taking notice of the ones that kirishima had been texting you about for the past weeks. 

kirishima walked ahead of you and ducked behind the front counter. “i actually have something for you.” 

“you do?” you gripped onto your bag, which contained a mini 4 by 4 canvas. on the canvas, you had painted the camellia kirishima had given to you and a pink rose, which you remember him telling you meant appreciation.

it wasn’t your best work. it definitely didn’t take the most amount of time. but it had a deeper meaning, a strong feeling behind it. and wasn’t that what art was all about?

“yeah, it’s not much but..” you could see his hair— which was styled in big, tall spikes today —poke out from behind the counter as searched for your gift. when you heard rustling that sounded like paper you immediately knew what it was.  

kirishima pulled out a beautifully paper wrapped bouquet. twine and white ribbon circumstanced to lower stem, coming up in the front with a perfectly tied bow. the greenery consisted of boxwoods and yew that surrounded the main flower.

“they’re—“ 

“orchids.” you finished. within the brown paper held delicate pink orchids, their soft petals brushed with faint streaks of yellow. “representing love and.. confession” you said softly.

“you know.” kirishima spoke, almost breathless, like he couldn’t believe it. he came around the counter to be face to face with you and handed you the bouquet. “how’d you know?” he spurred stupidly. 

you took it bouquet, connecting your fingerprints to the vevetly speckles of yellow. “i may or may not have been touching up on my flower knowledge.” you confessed. you peered up at him, catching the way his expression went from and intrigued to radiant. he was practically glowing; his signature boyish smile on his lips, his pupils dilated and shining. and it was an absolutely precious sight. 

“that’s—” he let out a happy sigh. “awesome.” he swayed back on his heels “i mean, i was looking towards to telling you myself but,” he raised his hand towards the bouquet. “looks like you got it all figured out.” 

“thank you.” your smile was wide. you could feel how prominent your blush was but you felt no shame. “i have something to you too.” you reached for the canvas in your bag, almost hesitant, but when you glanced up and caught kirishima blazing eyes again, you felt at ease. “since my main piece isn’t done yet i made you this.” 

kirishima, who already had his hands out, accepted the gift. “y/n.” he only looked at the painting for a moment before meeting your gaze again, as if he couldn’t take his eyes off you. your heart fluttered in your chest. “you didn’t have to.” he uttered, voice as soothingly as a lullaby.

“you didn’t either.” you held up the bouquet.

“it’s just—“ he inhaled deeply, pressing his lips together to desist his growing smile (which wasn’t working at all). “you’re like the coolest person i’ve ever met. and i’ve only know you for a couple weeks!” his eyes then abruptly fell to the floor. his next words were barely audible as he professed, “id love to get to know you more.” 

you giggled at his sudden feel to get shy.

hooking an arm around his, you proposed, “want to get stuffed on cafe pastries?” your tone clear of your intentions. 

he soften at your touch, “only if it’s a date.” he pressed, watching your lips quirk up into a smile, leading to his own doing the same.

“of course it’s a date.”

⋆˚࿔ static hearts

you always find a way to make your boyfriend, denki, melt underneath your touch.

contains: nsfw content!! minors dni! gn!reader but feminine compliments used, established relationship, handjob, edging

authors note: welll…. happy ovulation week to me!

word count: 940

“come on denks,” you cooed, bringing a hand up to message slow, deliberate circles along his jaw.  

denki let out a hot strangled breath against your neck, reeling in the europhia he was receiving. his head tilted upwards, wisps of his— now ruffled —hair tickling your chin. “but i—“ his voice comes out in a rasp, his breath already stolen from when you started edging him twenty minutes ago.  

“shush...” you hushed gently, continuing at your current pace. each stroke is slow and intentional, perfectly in tune with how your boyfriend’s body reacts to your touch best. “just a little while longer. you hold out for me, right baby?” you ever-so-slightly tighten your grip on him, just enough to capture his attention.

a moan bullies its way out of denki’s chest and you feel him throb in your hand. he keenly nods his head, “mmh.. ye—yeah..” he choked out through clenched teeth. his hand hovers above your arm, reaching to grasp onto you but not yet doing so. “fuck—“ 

suddenly, you realize you can’t see his face clearly in your current position, and that’s definitely a problem. with a swift motion, the hand you have resting on his jaw carefully guides his head upward towards you. 

now, it’s perfect. his jaw is slack in your palm, mouth barley agape to allow short breaths to escape it. his eyelashes flutter as he blinks a couple of times. denki knows better than to ignore you, so he wastes no time meeting your gaze. 

your focus splits between maintaining a steady cadence and caressing his face, hoping that the balance will help him last just a little longer. you could never get tired of the faces, the sounds, your boyfriend makes when he’s like this; completely and utterly devoted to you. and you'll do whatever's necessary to draw out the moment. 

your boyfriend's eyes are glossed over in a state of vulnerability, dilated pupils immediately getting fixated on observing your face. it doesn’t help that he’s very clearly enjoying it. his cheeks completely flushed as a small, almost cocky, smile quirked up from the corner of his mouth. 

“pretty.” he prattles softly, hand finally landing on your arm and holding you like he never wants to let go. “you’re so pretty,” he gawked, biting his lip as he attempted, and failed, to hold back a moan. “ah—‘m the luckiest guy in the world. shit— fuck babe.” his eyes screwed shut momentarily, his head laying heavy on your shoulder. his words stir something dangerous inside of you. 

encouraged, you quicken your pace. the room echoed with evidence of denki’s arousal, squelching sounds bouncing off the walls. his vibration rang into your ears, spending a flush to your cheeks. his cock pulses in your hold, telling you he’ll be reaching his breaking point soon. 

a new sensation seems flicks to life in your boyfriend, (mostly likely sprouting from the view of your blushing face) prompting him to thrust his hips up into your warm palm. “‘m sorry— ‘s too good. your hand—” he babbles. his unoccupied hand reaches out to touch himself— to grant himself more pleasure, but he stops himself before it does. instead, he watches your persistent rhythm, mesmerized. “babe your hand is amazing, god…how much longer—” he’s breathless but of course he can't ever seem to stop talking when it comes to you. “i’ll be good. i’ll be so good, i promise just let me—“ his docile eyes feel intoxicating as he pleads. 

desperate now, you press your fingertips to his jaw and lean in, leading him into an openmouthed kiss.

denki physically shakes when your lips make contact. the kiss is terribly messy, denki’s drool mixing with your spit, your tongues gliding together. but it proves to be worth it when you hear the muffled groan your boyfriend struggles to hide as he kisses you back. you diminish the speed of the kiss, carefully calculating the extent of your boyfriend's pleasure— not wanting him to cum until he was at the absolute peak of his ecstasy. 

you move your hand to direct your strokes higher, grazing over his leaking, pink tip. 

slowly, you slip your tongue out of his mouth and tenderly place a cluster of kisses over his swollen lips. his voice wavers underneath you, “baby. baby, please. god please, i— i can’t.”

“i know baby,” you kiss his cheek, fingers still absentmindedly fondling his face. “come on. be good for me, like you said you’d be.”

denki looks at you again for reassurance and when you nod, he lets go. the muscles in his thighs visibly tighten as his body rumbles. the room seems to hum with an electric charge as his body quivered, his head lolls back on your shoulder as a quiet chain of fuck’s leave his lips, painting your hand white with his seed.

denki’s breathing staggers as you continue to pump him until he’s fully empty, his chest rising and falling hastily.

“fuckkk…” his voice is hoarse, and his eyes are wide as he studies the scene cum stained infront of him. and with no shame at all, he turns over and kisses your neck. “i fucking love you.” he grunts, still attempting to catch his breath. 

you can feel his grin on your neck. you smile too, “i love you too.”

you slowly detach your hand from the stickiness, cringing at the sultry fluid. denki looks up from the crook of your neck and flashes you a dorky grin, “lick it up for me?” he asks, his eyes somehow still lingering with lust. 

you let out a breathy laugh, “… i'll go get the towel.”

HIII BLOOM !!!! i was wondering if you could do a lil fluff drabble of you chilling with sero in his room during like a talking stage ?

⋆˚࿔ the synonyms of epitome

authors note: siri what is a talking stage. seraph thank u for requesting ⸝⸝^ᴗ^⸝⸝ sorry for the wait!!

contains: gn!reader, unestablished relationship, fluff, awful flirting

word count: 1.1k

“and she was the—“ hanta glanced up at you. his eyebrow lifted as he looked at you through the stray hairs that had fallen from his shaggy— surprisingly well kept —mullet. you could see his jaw lock into a comfortable smile as he propped it up in the palm of his hand.

“epitome.” you nodded in confirmation. 

it was only midday, so you could hear the distant sounds of footsteps and murmurs of conversation coming from the ua lively students outside. you glanced at the blossoming cherry blossom trees out of hanta’s slightly ajar window. the blush dusted leaves fought against the wind, constant rustles confirming its battle. 

you rest your head against the headboard of hantas bed and took it all in. the wind whistled loudly, sharing secrets with the inner shell of your ear. you liked days like this. simple.

“epitome,” hanta copied from the foot of his bed. his pointer finger followed the words in the book mr. aizawa had assigned for your ancient history class too long ago. 

you had already read the book and wrote your review paper on it two weeks ago but when hanta came to you asking if you wanted to read the awfully boring novel together, who were you to say no?

hanta had a way of making everything feel more alive. over the past few months you, and a handful of other people, have taken notice of how much the two of you spend time together— in how much you enjoy his presence. 

he didn’t have to be telling a dumb joke or making fun of something stupid denki had done. something as simple as being by your side while you’re folding your laundry or mindlessly browsing on your phone, was enough to make you feel so unreasonably good. 

there was something special about your relationship with hanta. something that hasn’t been spoken about on surface level. but the signs were definitely there. 

“she was the epitome of beauty.” hanta finished the sentence, he brows knitting together. “epitome.” he said again. he pinned the book onto his bed with one hand and idly fiddled with his ruffled sheets with his other. 

“he’s basically saying she’s the perfect embodiment of beauty.” you said. “he really likes her.”

hanta nodded his head slowly, “but when he talks to her he acts like he doesn't care?” hanta asks, but it’s clearly his question is coming from curiosity and not confusion. 

you let out a short hum in reply and thought of the best explanation. “well.. maybe he feels too nervous when he  talks to her and can’t show his true emotions?” you tap your fingers against the spine of the novel. you hadn’t given the half baked romance trope of the book much thought but hell if hanta was asking, you were suddenly interested too.

hanat scoffed, shifting from his position. “if i thought someone was the ‘epitome’ of beauty,” his words started off strong but seemed to slowly tumble into a declaration of uncertainty. still he went on, “i would talk to them before anyone else could.” he let out an airy breath. “but i guess i don’t blame him for being nervous.” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. 

you nudged his leg from your spot on the bed, “so what? you see someone you like and immediately ask them out?”

hanta’s eyes flicker to your smirking face,  “i see someone i like and i become their friend.” his eyes fell back onto his bedding. he was really admiring the 100% cotton material. 

“uh huh.” 

“and maybe, eventually, i would ask them out after a couple of years.” he says, his finger making a swirling motion.

“a couple of years?!” you exclaimed, shooting up into a  straightened posture, “you’d make the person you think is perfect wait years for a confession?” you asked, a finger pointed at the tape boy as you suppressed a laugh. you didn’t expect hanta to be so... timid. “who would wait that long?” you asked, genuinely curious.

hanta finally peeled his eyes away from his sheets. his tone indicated that his confidence quickly flooded back, “someone who really likes me too.” he stated, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. 

it was your turn to shift positions now, suddenly feeling like you were under interrogation, when you were really just under hanta’s gaze. your finger fell at his shockingly mature reply. “i guess that makes sense..” you bite your lip.

hanta chuckles at this.

you sighed before you spoke again, allowing your curiosity to get the best of you, “sooo what type of person are you even into?” 

in the couple of years you’ve know hanta he’s never actually had anyone he was talking to, at least not that you know of. and for some reason you felt the need to learn everything about him. it was only natural, right?

hanta shrugged, “someone who can put up with my bullshit.” the book was abandoned now, his idle tracing too, leaving all his attention on you. 

his eyes lit a dangerous fire under you, one that scuffed the surface of your interest. not to the point where it burned, but it left your skin unusually warm. “that leaves your playing field pretty empty huh?” you choose to tease, knowing that if you thought too hard you’d send yourself into a red faced spiral. 

hanta laughed, rubbing his forehead as he shook his head. “not completely empty.” he remarked, something about his words hinting at a subliminal message. “what’s your type then, cerebrito?”

the question caught you by surprise. you hadn’t had time to focus on building romantic relationships with others. you mostly focus on strengthening the relationship you had with your friends, hanta being your strongest. 

“i guess i would like to date someone who can make me laugh. and who likes to spend time with me.” you replied, purposely being broad. hanta had a telling look on his face, making you intrigued to what he was plotting.

hanta nodded, clicking his tongue. “would you like, be into some guy who likes to read boring ass books with you?” he asked carefully, almost like he was ensuring he could play off as a joke if you didn’t answer adequately.

you smiled, ignoring the increase in your heart rate and the sirens blaring in your head. leaning forward, you

force yourself to gently shove his chest, “i would be into a guy who knows what the word epitome means.” you bite back— though it’s more of a playful nip . 

hanta raised a brow and put on a smile, “oh? so you wouldn’t be into a guy who’s the epitome of stupidity?”

he's so stupid. so stupid and so your type. 

“i’m into guys who finish their homework.” you tapped the edge of his copy of the novel. 

hanta settled back into his original position, grinning like he had just won a golden prize. “alright y/n. give this guy a couple of hours and you won’t have to wait any longer.” he brought his focus back to the work below him, “i promise.”