Self-care Day With The Boys

y'all, should i change the look of my blog? my fingers are itching rn.

options:

visual ⟶ more headers for my posts and graphics, cute borders (like the ones with the bows n stuff idk how to make them but i'll figure it out🤷‍♀️)

colourful but simple ⟶ more gradient text, colour-coded hcs for characters and their names and dialogue like:

bf!katsuki is cute or whatever and says, "you're such a fuckin' brat, you know that right?"

maybe not this colour maybe like a solid colour but you get the jist. also more indents like above

cosmic ⟶ my name is star so maybe i should do like a star/celestial-themed page. like silver glitter and star borders, that 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐭.

if you have any other ideas, especially colours like if you like the current blue and a bit of yellow or if you think something else would look better, send them to me in my inbox🤭

their omega

જ⁀➴ chapter four: stray kitty

alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — talk of ruts and heats, they take care of you, smau + fic, 3k words

m.list

a/n: texts to eiji from your pov + '🌽⭐️s' gc from denki's pov + this chapter is written from personal experience (unfortunately)

fic underneath smau

Smiling, you put your phone in the pocket of Eijiro’s hoodie and finish lacing up your sneakers.

The boys all left this morning so it’s just been you since eleven. These neighbourhood walks of yours have become something of a habit. They aren’t very long, around 25 minutes. Just enough time to get some fresh air and breathe before you start to feel unsafe or miss the boys. You’ve grown much closer to them over the past month. Now, you are comfortable with their affection and protectiveness, which used to scare you.

You put on your cap before stepping out the front door and locking it. You walk down the driveway and slip out through the gate. Hitting the street, you stick to the footpath as Eijiro always advises.

As you walk, you wonder what the boys want to talk to you about tonight. If it’s about babies, you might lose it. But you don’t think it is. You might be closer to them, but you aren’t that close just yet. Maybe they want to talk about new sleeping arrangements, you think. Or someone’s birthday is coming up.

You’re back home before you realise it. Shutting the gate behind you, you begin walking up to the house when you spot a small, white figure on the path. You take tentative steps toward it, unsure of how to proceed. Upon nearing it, you see that it’s a stray cat. Somehow, it got into your front yard. You crouch down a foot away from it.

The small cat watches you with big green eyes. It then returns to licking its paw, not paying you any attention.

“What’re you doing here, kitty?” You coo to it as you extend your hand toward it. It looks up at you, the space around its eyes twitching. The cat’s nose bobs up and down as it sniffs the back of your hand.

And then, you scream as you pull your hand back. Blood pools to the surface of your soft skin, torn by such a vicious predator. You choke out a sob as you look down at your hand. Your mind is blank. Only the pain of this sudden attack throbs throughout your body.

You watch in a daze as the cat perks up and suddenly darts past you. The space on the path where the cat was sitting is replaced in seconds by black house slippers.

You tilt your head back and watch as Katsuki crouches down to you. He grabs your wrist harshly and brings your wound close to his face. You yelp out and begin to sob as he examines the bite.

He lets go of your wrist and your hand falls in your lap. You sniffle as he helps you up and leads you to the house, his muscular arm wrapped tight around your shoulders. He squeezes the tip of your shoulder as you stumble into the house.

You’re not too sure what’s happening around you. All you know is the stinging pain shooting up your arm. It burns, blazing hot, filthy. You can’t focus on anything else.

And then a searing pain, wet and cool. You hiss out as you blink, tears falling down your cheeks. Katsuki’s holding your hand in his much larger veiny one. He’s holding a wet cotton ball with tweezers and dabs your wound.

You whine at the stings following his dabs. He looks up from your hand, red eyes staring into your teary ones. He puts down the tweezers and grabs a box of tissues on the kitchen table. He holds the box for you as you pluck out a couple and wipe your eyes.

He continues to clean your wound, grumbling every so often about how dumb you are to try and pat a stray cat. You’ve calmed down now as he bandages your hand. His skin feels rough to the touch, a shock to your fairly delicate hands.

You whine a little at the pull of the bandage. And then he’s grabbing all of the supplies and telling you to stay seated. You nod and your eyes follow his figure out of the kitchen. You gaze at your bandaged hand. It aches. Twinges of pain stutter down your forearm as you raise your hand to your face, admiring Katsuki’s handiwork.

He’s done a really good job, you think. Being a pro hero must mean you get used to this. He stalks back in and comes to stand beside you.

He looks down at you as he says, “We’re going to the local clinic.” You shake your head and start to protest, but he cuts you off. He leans down and wraps his arm around your torso, hands in your sweaty armpits, and pulls you up.

You whimper as he lifts you and sets you down on unsteady feet. You fall forward into his hard chest as he releases you from his hold. He catches you with an arm around your back and one on the back of your neck.

“Gonna need a shot after getting bit by that thing,” he grumbles. You shake your head against his chest and wrap your arms around him. You appreciate how Katsuki doesn’t push you away or yell at you. He just holds you and lets you hold him for the next few minutes.

Several stray tears prickle your eyes and soak into Katsuki’s skull t-shirt. You inhale his sweet-smoky scent and it puts you at ease. The tension in your muscles gradually fades as you stand there.

At last, Katsuki nudges you and tells you again that you have to go to the local clinic. You nod reluctantly and obey as he drives you to the clinic and puts your name down. He sits with you as you wait, furiously typing away on his phone.

Within a few minutes, your phone is blowing up with text messages from your alphas. You gently tap Katsuki on the arm and ask him if he told them. He mutters that he had to, and you hum in response. You pull out your phone and respond to their worried messages, letting them know that you are fine and that Katsuki has taken good care of your wound.

By the one-hour mark, he’s absolutely restless. You watch his foot tap the floor for a few minutes before you point it out. He grumbles something about the doctors taking too long as he stops tapping his foot. His concern makes you smile. His phone buzzes and he looks down at it.

“Shitty hair is on his way. Dunceface finishes in 20 so he’ll be over soon. And tapeface is on till 7 but he’s tryna get out of it,” Katsuki grunts. You nod and reassure him that they don’t all need to come to see you. He shrugs and mutters under his breath, “I’d be worried too if I wasn’t with you.” You nudge his shoulder playfully and grin.

He grumbles, “The fuck?” You shake your head, still smiling.

When Eijiro arrives, you’re resting your head on a flushed Katsuki’s shoulder. Your eyes are closed and your breathing has slowed down considerably. The redhead runs over to you two.

Seeing you resting so peacefully, he whispers, “Is she asleep?”

“No,” you groan as you crack a smile. You scrunch your eyes shut before fluttering them open, revealing your worried-looking alpha peering down at you. You sit up properly and tell him that you’re fine. He nods and asks if you need anything. You cast a glance Katsuki’s way and see that familiar frown on his face.

You look back at Eijiro and ask him if he could get you some water. He nods and asks the blond if he wants anything.

“I’ll get the water. You sit,” Katsuki grumbles as he stands up and points to the now-empty seat. Eijiro nods and takes a seat. He wraps a warm arm around you and pulls you in close.

You look down reflexively, noticing that he’s still in his hero pants. When you gaze up, you catch the back of your angry blond stalking out of the clinic.

As you wait for him to return, you show Eijiro your hand. He grasps your fingers like they’re made of glass and places delicate kisses on your bandage. The gesture brings heat to your cheeks; a recognisable redness.

It’s not long before Katsuki comes back with a few bottles of water and snacks in hand. He dumps the haul on the redhead’s lap before twisting the cap of a water bottle and giving it to you. You take it with your good hand and thank him. You bring it to your lips and saviour the refreshing liquid.

Katsuki sits down on your other side and hand-feeds you pocky sticks. You insist that you can do it yourself but he’s not hearing any of it, shoving the tip of another pocky between your open lips.

Shortly, Denki rushes through the front door of the clinic, stumbling and almost tripping over a young child. Katsuki groans and motions the klutzy alpha over to where you’re sitting. He comes over to you and pulls you into a big cuddle.

He rambles, “Are you okay? Oh my God, I was so worried about you! I wish I could have come earlier but there was this old lady and—”

“Denki,” you cut him off. He pulls back and looks down at you. His eyebrows are furrowed and a pout is on his full lips. You shake your head and tell him that you’re fine. He nods and sits on the floor, just in front of your legs. It makes you giggle, the way he’s perched in front of you like a guard dog. You breathe out, smiling, and accept another pocky from Katsuki.

You don’t have to wait much longer for your name to be called out. The boys follow you into the consultant room and stand awkwardly in the corner as you take a seat and explain to the doctor what happened. They prescribe you a course of antibiotics and tell you to wait for the nurse to get a tetanus shot.

You shuffle out of the room and walk down the hall, sitting opposite the nurse’s room. The boys start arguing over who gets to go in the room with you and hold your hand when the blue door in front of you opens and the nurse calls you in.

You stand up and start walking toward them, very much aware of your followers. Once you get to the door, you turn around and reassure the boys that you can get the injection on your own.

They seem sceptical so you give them your biggest pleading eyes and softest pout as you say, “Please.” Katsuki nods reluctantly and backs off, your other alphas following suit. You sit down on the chair and greet the nurse.

They confirm with you that you’re getting a tetanus shot before grabbing it from the fridge at the back of the room. They say to you, “Protective, huh?”

You sigh, “Yea, but they mean well.” The nurse nods and places a kidney dish with the injection on a nearby overbed table.

“They must love you very much,” they say as they prepare the needle. Their words make you gulp. Love? You didn’t think so. Not yet anyway. The nurse tells you there will be a sting and there is one, but you grit your teeth and tough it out.

Stepping out of the room, your alphas come bolting up to you. Hanta arrived at some point and now holds your unharmed hand. Denki grabs onto your elbow while Eijiro squeezes your shoulder and Katsuki pats your head. They ask you if you’re okay and you purr at their tender affection.

You can’t help it! It just slipped out, honestly. Your bandaged hand — that happens to be your dominant hand, most unfortunately — flies up to your mouth as your eyes go wide. You can hear the blood rushing in your veins, the lively race you’ve just kicked off to heat your cheeks.

You stutter, “S-sorry.” You cast your gaze downwards as you leave the clinic, too ashamed to lock eyes with any of your alphas. You miss the way they glance at each other, smirking proudly that you’re warming up to them. The drive home is uneventful and Katsuki the boys make you dinner that night, and every other meal for the next week.

Their care is the créme de la créme of any care provided by a partner. Anything you need — and I mean ANYTHING — it’s right there. Glass of water, a book to read, help to change your socks. Someone is always at home to keep you company and make sure that you’re alright.

They even offered to help you shower at one point, which you turned down (sadly). The boys treat you like a baby as you recover from your injury.

Today is the final day for your antibiotics (yay!). Right now, Katsuki has your elbow propped up on the kitchen table as he removes the bandage from your hand. You look down at the wound, seeing scabs dotting your skin.

You smile cheerily at him and ask him if you can stop bandaging it. He inspects your wound one last time before sighing and agreeing. You chortle and lean over the table, cuddling him. The sudden display of affection has Katsuki’s sharp eyes soft and round with surprise.

At first, he pats your back hesitantly. But after a few seconds, his calloused palms relax into the fabric of his skull t-shirt you’re wearing. You release him and quickly peck him on the cheek before running out of the kitchen and grabbing your phone. You snap a pic of your mostly-healed hand and send it to the group chat.

That night after dinner, Eijiro asks you if you can have that talk you were meant to have earlier that week. You nod and he asks you to remain seated at the table with your other alphas.

Soon, Eijiro comes back holding a Deku calendar. You point to the hero of choice, and he groans about it being the only one left on the shelf. You giggle and shrug.

“So,” you start. “What’s this all about? You didn’t call a family meeting to show me a calendar, did you?” Eijiro laughs nervously, eyeing the other alphas.

Katsuki mutters, “Yea, he did.”

“Oh,” you say. You look up at Eijiro expectantly. He hesitates for a moment before flicking it open to March.

He explains, “We wrote in here our rut cycles so we can keep track of it.” He points to the writing in the little boxes. “This is Hanta’s pre-rut week,” he continues. His finger trails across the glossy page. “And then this is his rut week.” Eijiro then flips the page to April.

“So in April,” he starts. His gaze flickers to your face, trying to gauge your initial reaction and failing miserably. “U-um yea, in April, Denki and I both rut.” He flips the page before continuing, “And then in May, Bakubro ruts.”

Eijiro then flicks the pages back to March. He says, “And you can add your heat cycle in here too.” You hum in response.

Rut cycles and heat cycles, you think. Not what you wanted to be thinking about right now. But with Hanta’s coming up in a few weeks, you must know. It’s not an easy topic to talk about, but you’re getting so much closer to them now. They’ve been nothing but good to you. And you don’t have to return that favour in that way until you’re ready, right?

You exhale as you say, “Thanks for telling me, guys. Yea, if you have a pen, I’ll add mine in.” You chuckle dryly as Denki fumbles with a pen from his pocket. You thank him as you take it from him and slide the calendar from Eijiro toward you. You flip through the months, flicking the pen between your fingers.

When was the last time you were in heat? You ask yourself. You flip to the end of the calendar and take note of the date you came to Japan. You were kidnapped merely days later and you went into heat during that time. It was the worst heat you’ve ever experienced.

You push those thoughts away, eager to avoid talking about that time in your life for now. You hum as you do the math.

Finally, you say, “My last heat was when I was still… with the dealer and um, the girls. It could be anywhere from early April to May.” You drag the pen across the scribbled squares, taking note of how the final days of Denki’s rut crossover with the beginning of Eijiro’s. You glance up to find their eyes on you. You can see that they want to know more from the curiosity burning in their eyes.

You draw a bracket from early April to May, not missing how Katsuki’s rut is supposed to start bang on the 1st of May. You say quietly as you label your heat, “I’ll tell you more about it later.”

Denki chimes in, “Promise?” You laugh nervously and promise him. You then place the pen down on the table and close the calendar.

You clear your throat before saying, “And just to clarify, you don’t… expect anything from me, do you? Not until I’m ready to…” You give Eijiro wide eyes and he chuckles. They all do.

Hanta places his hand on your arm and gives it a gentle squeeze. He says, “Of course not. Don’t worry about us. We’ll wait until you’re ready.” You give him a smile at him, grateful for his reassuring words. They all nod at you and Eijiro hangs the calendar on a wall in the kitchen.

Later that night, as you lie in bed, you think over the dates the boys had marked. You think over how it could all play out. Even though they don’t expect anything from you, would you want to do something for them? What will they be like when rutting? Could they control themselves during that time? Such questions lingered in your mind, lulling you into a dreamless sleep.

taglist - @qyuin @nervoussangel @xxdiaqiaoxx @misscaller06 @kksmush

their omega

જ⁀➴ moodboard

alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, 4M1F, smau + fic

m.list

taglist - @qyuin @nervoussangel

okay this has probably been headcanoned before but I bet shinsou is kinky asf. anything and everything, he's into it. probably keeps a box of sex toys at your place so he do whatever he wants to you however he wants that day. paddles, blindfolds, rope, butt plugs with tails, man has probably got half a sex store in that box just for you.

loves seeing you dressed up in lingerie, especially purple. will definitely spank you if you misbehave. will take you on any surface; bench-top, sink, shower walls, couch, table, floor, vanity, fucking ceiling if he could.

he's giving switch, in my opinion. like, mostly dom but also sub when he wants you to be on top and show him how much you missed him wink wink. definitely a rope bunny and a rigger.

hear me out... he eats up pet play. just a lil like, if you were at a party and got dared to act like a cat, he would go for that so hard. he would pull you onto his lap and tell you to give him kisses. he would find it really cute if you were meowing at him and he would keep calling you kitten until your dare finished. bonus points if you're wearing a collar and cat ears.

he likes making you cry, he likes it when you wake up to him inside of you, he likes marking you up, maybe even taking photos and videos of you when you let him. one thing he's always nervous about though is using his quirk on you when it comes to your intimacy. he's used it a couple times on you, commanding you to suck his cock or to play with yourself. but, he's always worried that he might take things too far and make you do something that you would never consent to.

over 1k likes?!?!! are y’all being fr right now this is actually so insane. tears might be coming to my eyes🥹. thank you for your support!! i’m glad that you liked something i wrote <3

as bakugou’s housewife, you’re always visiting his agency to bring him lunch or his colleagues some baked goods you made.

he grumbles when eijiro walks into his office holding your freshly-baked muffins and tells him how good they are.

“damn right, they are my wife made ‘em!” eijiro’s eyes widen before he chuckles, wiping away the crumbs from his lips with the back of his hand.

the redhead grins, “there’s more downstairs if you want some.” bakugou grunts out that he’s fine as he keeps his eyes on the report in front of him.

by the time his final meeting for the day is over, he’s in an awful mood. he trudges through the door, flinging his duffle bag near the shoe rack. you jump, your concentration interrupted by the loud noise. you turn around, hearing him stomping into the kitchen. your angry blond has his muscular arms folded across his chest and the deepest furrow in his brows.

“hi, suki!” you smile. he grumbles, lingering behind the island bench. you turn back around and stir the sauce for tonight’s spaghetti. the next few minutes are silent except for the bubbling of the tomato sauce and bakugou’s loud sighs and groans.

“how long are you gonna stand there huffing and puffing, mr big bad wolf?” you say cheekily.

your husband grunts, “don’t call me that.” he stalks up behind you, his calloused palms gripping your hips tightly.

you hum, “then spit it out. what’s got you in such a bad mood?” you squeal as he smacks your ass, flinching and immediately turning to face him. he’s so close his chest ghosts yours.

you stare up at him with wide eyes as you exclaim, “what was that for?!”

he smirks, all snarky, “you shouldn’t waste your time on those extras. you’re my wife.”

you gulp and sigh, “is that what this is about?” tch. “i was being nice, babe, because i’m your wife.” he rolls his eyes, his hands still on your hips. you shove him back with both hands on his pecs, taking the pro hero by surprise. he stumbles back slightly, glaring at you.

you turn the stove off and set the pot down on a silicone mat to let it cool. all the while, bakugou burns holes into you with his intense stare.

even though you’ve been together for a long time now, he still finds it hard to put his feelings into words and to say those words. the distance between you makes his heartache. he closes that gap, cuddling you from behind. you tell him to get off but he won’t budge.

the rest of the night is spent reassuring him that no, you’re not mad at him and yes, you love him more than anyone else (especially eijiro).

rut suppressants pt.1

alpha!todoroki shoto x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — smut, p in v, masturbation, voyeurism, knotting, oral sex, swearing, 5.2k words

pt.2

You were typing away at your computer, responding to some dry work emails about tomorrow’s presentation. You had been working in a small team to design a new marketing strategy for your company’s latest hero gadgets. And of course, you had been pulling the weight of the team, you little hard worker. Or maybe your HR team didn’t hire the right candidates, you decide. It was easy enough though. The hard part was just getting your colleagues to look like they knew what they were doing by 10am tomorrow.

After responding to another email of “What does this mean?”, you heard the front door click open, grocery bags scraping against it. Ah, your mate is home. Finally, you smile.

You set your desktop to sleep before leaving the study. As you walk down the hallway, half-white half-red hair comes into view. He’s got his back to you. Black shirt clinging to his sweaty muscles. Must of been to the gym too, you thought. You rest your shoulder against the fridge, arms crossed underneath your chest, taking in the sight of you husband. He’s going through the bags, rummaging through them restlessly, clearly on the hunt for something.

“Need some help?” You smirk.

He turns around, blue-grey eyes wide. His expression visibly eases, slightly opened mouth forming a closed smile. “No, I’m fine. How was work?” He returns to his scavenger hunt in the bag right at his feet.

“Fine. I’ve got it under control for tomorrow’s meeting.” You push off of the fridge and come up behind him, hand on the edge of the island bench. You look over his shoulder, curious about what he could possibly be looking for. Shoto always gave you a kiss first thing whenever he came home, regardless of what had happened during patrol or of what you were doing. For him to neglect you like this was rather odd.

“You didn’t do all the work again, did you?” His voice had an edge to it… It made you bite your lip ever-so-slightly.

“You know how it is—”

“Well, it shouldn’t be,” he almost growled. “You should all be doing it, not just you.” He cussed under his breath.

Okay, this was getting weird. Agitated over you working hard? I mean yea but, he usually reins it it, accepts that this job is just that for you, a job. One that you’ve talked to him about leaving. And swearing? Not Shoto. Only when y’all are… you know.

“Shoto, babe, what’s up?” You say. You're standing directly behind him, you run your hand through his locks. He hums.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine," you whine.

You watch as he starts going through the fourth bag, pulling out a small box with the label “Rut suppressants. Take as needed. Maximum dosage: five per day."

This little fucker. You snatch it out of his hands immediately, sprinting from the scene into the back of your apartment.

“[Y/n]! [Y/n] stop!” You can hear him coming after you, the sound of his feet hitting the floorboards. “Give that to me now!”

You’re running frantically, heart pounding in your chest, hands getting sweaty around the evil cardboard box. You dash into your shared bedroom, slamming the door shut. Fuck! Where should I hide it?

You look around, [e/c] eyes settling on the dresser. You race over to it, emptying the contents of the box into the first draw, beneath your bras and panties.

“[Y/n]!”

Shit, he’s close to the door. You slam the drawer shut and run-stumble into the ensuite. Leaning against the door, you lock it. Okay okay, think! Think! The door knob rattles.

“[Y/n]! Open this door right now or I swear—” The silver handle is shaking now.

The toilet! You open the lid and crush the box in your hands; it makes those crinkling noises before you toss it into the trash bin and flush the toilet. At that moment, the door bursts open.

Shoto’s chest is heaving. His eyes are unfocused, frenzied. He’s panting… with anger you decide as there’s no way that little sprint could of worked up the number 3 pro hero that much. He stalks towards you, grabbing your wrists and leaning down to meet your eyes.

“What did you do with it?” His tone shocks you. His voice is so low now… and hoarse. It throws you off. “With-with what?” You breath out. You’re pretty puffed. “Don’t play dumb. You didn’t actually flush ‘em down the toilet, did you?” His face is now inches from yours.

You remain defiant, eyes staring back into his. The heat radiating from his left tickles your skin. “Um… well yea, yea I did. They’re um, yea, they’re down the toilet.” He laughs. More like barks. His breath hits your face. All you can smell is his sweat interlaced with his fresh scent.

“You’re so bad at lying, you know that?” He smirks, straightening back up. His muscles pull taut as he runs pale fingers through that snowy, silky hair. You watch as he looks around the bathroom.

“Where’d you really put ‘em?” He looks back down at you, scrutinising you beneath his gaze. Your ragged breathing now hitches.

“I don’t—”

“Don’t deny it!” He shouts. You shrink back instinctively.

You’ve never seen him like this before. He’s always so controlled. Even when you’re in heat, he’s always got it together. Always able to draw back or change the pace when you need him to. That’s why you took the pills off him in the first place.

You’ve been getting suspicious for months now since the two of you got married that he’s been on rut suppressants. It just didn’t add up. After your first heat together, you had actually asked him about his ruts so you knew when you had to return the favour.

“I don’t really rut, babe.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck, heterochromatic eyes averting from yours.

You laughed in response. “You don’t rut?” Your eyebrows raised. “Should I be concerned or…”

“No,” he said shyly, “it’s not like that.”

You waited for him to continue, watching as his eyes fluttered from object to object.

“I don’t get very intense ruts.”

Your brow was still quirked. “You don’t get ‘very intense ruts’? Like, you don’t get super aggressive and horny when you rut.”

His muscles relaxed upon hearing that. He looked back at you now. “Yea, it’s a minor annoyance. Nothing to worry about.”

You relaxed too, seeing that he was more comfortable now. “Trust me.” He took your hands in his larger ones. The temperature difference of both something you weren’t used to yet. “You don’t ever have to worry about control with me.” He gave you a sweet reassuring smile.

“Are you sure? I mean—”

“Trust me.” He squeezed your hands and leaned over, planting a small kiss on your lips. You grinned as he pulled back, trusting his word, however strange it seemed.

Had he lied to you? When you had announced to your friends that you and Shoto were (finally) getting married, they had warned you about that post-wedding baby fever. The endless marathon sex you two would be having once your cycles synced up. You had been waiting your entire relationship for that to happen and it hadn’t. So, once you two tied the knot wink, you had been hoping that the talk of pups would come up, but it just hadn’t. That’s when you had begun to think something was off. Even if he didn’t have “intense ruts”, he would still be feeling the urge to breed you, wouldn’t he? Or maybe he just didn’t—

“Where did you put my suppressants?” He stared you down, thin brows furrowed. “Babe…” His hands are trembling at his sides. Pupils dilated so only the rims of his irises are visible. It strikes fear and-and something else into you. Attraction? Excitement? Maybe you should try something else. Something else that’s gonna get you the result you want.

“Make me.”

At this, he frowns even more. “Make you what?”

“Make me tell you.” You take a step forward, feigning confidence, coming close to him again and tilting your head to the side, challenging him.

He scoffs. Those beautiful eyes, like solar eclipses, flickering away from you for a moment. “Make you…” He says quietly. He stares at you even more intensely now as he’s thinks it over.

It’s time to get cocky. “Yea, make me.” You stretch up towards him, arms wrapping around his neck. “I want you,” you move to whisper in his ear, your lips brushing his earlobe. “My sexy Alpha,” you run both of your hands through his hair now. He groans right back into your neck, large hands palming your lower back. “To make me submit to you.”

In an instant, you're over his shoulder, his palm smacking your right cheek. He’s carrying you out of the ensuite. You’ve done it now hehe.

As he crosses the threshold, you notice the door knob was coated in ice, hanging there, limp. Looks like you’ve gotta add fixing that to your to-do list tomorrow. He throws you like a stuffed toy onto your plush bed. His shirt’s already coming off, rippling contours all for your pleasure. Yea, make that a ‘to-do next week’.

Large hands already besides your head. Lean arms, meaty thighs, delicious toned frame caging you in. You’re forced to stare into those mismatched eyes. Not like you’d want to do anything else anyways.

Your breaths intermingle, just like your scents. He just stares at you, licking his soft, full lips. Afternoon light from the adjacent windows makes your figures glow. You love the way it streaks through his hair, and he loves the way it catches on your pretty pink lips. He thumbs your lower lip, pulling it down to reveal your teeth. You lower your chin, taking his thumb into your mouth. You circle your tongue over the top of his thumb before tasting the pad of it. It’s cold, like a popsicle you suck on in summer. You can think of another ‘popsicle’ you’d rather be sucking on right now.

“I… I-I don’t…” His brows are knitted together once more. Pupils wavering between dilated and contracted, showing off those blue and grey hues you love so much. You stop what you’re doing with your tongue, opting to place both of your hands on his cheeks. His thumb leaves your mouth but rests on your chin.

“I don’t know if… if this s-safe.” You can’t stop yourself from giggling a little. What a cutie.

“Pookie, of course this is safe. I was made for you. You know that, right?” You smirk. You’re a feelin’ like a cocky little shit today btw if you didn’t get that. This man’s shyness inflating your ego.

“Of course I do but…” He averts his gaze, looking at your ear instead.

“But?” You continue. However, he doesn’t respond. He just moves his hand from your chin and tucks a strand of [h/c] hair behind your ear, which has suddenly become the most interesting thing in the room.

“You don’t wanna hurt me? You do wanna hurt me but don’t wanna admit it?” You tease.

“No! No, of course I don’t want to hurt you.” His eyes shift back to yours.

“Shoto.” You squeeze his cheeks gently. “I’m your omega. If you hurt me then you can just make it better.” You bring his face closer to yours. “You can make it better, can’t you?” You whisper.

He gulps, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down with the motion. “Y-yea,” he replies, voice low, “I can.” That last part coming out with more confidence.

“Good, then don’t make me dom you, Alpha. That’s kinda embarrassing for you.” You giggle whilst leaning up to him and finally, kiss him.

You both moan into it, feeling the relief washing through you two. But quickly, it’s not enough. It’s far from enough. He growls into your lips, changing his tilt. You follow his lead. You like that. His tongue grazes your bottom lip and you part immediately for him. The tangle that ensues is soul-gripping, bone-shaking, mind-blanking, breath-taking…

Your fingers are gripping his locks. His fingers are gripping the hem of your thin white tank top. Saliva, don’t know don’t care whose, if dripping from the corners of your mouth. His exhale is your inhale and vice versa. He catches your lower lip between his teeth. His sharp canines sending tingles throughout your entire being. There’s nothing that gets you slicked up like a lip bite from your Alpha.

He pulls away, you two panting. Not that the reprieve is sufficient or long-lived. Soon his lips are sucking and nipping your earlobe and that sensitive spot beneath your ear. You whimper out his name. “Shoto”, “Alpha”, “Daddy”, maybe “Babe” or “Honey”… yea, those, they’ll be the only words you know for the next week.

He nips at your mating mark, the beautiful white scar just above your left collarbone. He continues biting it, almost re-piercing the scar. You can’t help the moan-mumbles that tumble out of your mouth. Already, your wetness is soaking your blue lace panties and beginning to slide down your inner thighs.

“Fuck,” Shoto breathes out into your other ear. You shudder at the word, one hand sliding down to his shoulder.

He continues at it, licking and sucking and kissing and biting at your neck. Soon, his fingers are tearing through your top. You mewl at the sensation of him ripping the torn, flimsy fabric off your body. His hands reach for your bare breasts, cupping them completely. Those long fingers begin pinching at the sensitive flesh. Your body responds instinctively, moaning, small hands grasping his wrists, breaths catching in your chest and throat.

He fingers your nipples before bringing his mouth down to you, lips ghosting the hard peaks between his fingertips. He takes one into his mouth, eliciting a delicious whimper from you. His warm tongue circles your nipple as you did to his thumb, but just so much better.

You’ve barely gotten started and yet, you know never get enough of this. No matter how many times he’s done and will do this to you, and so much more, you’ll never be forever satiated. You just can’t be.

He moves to the other, keeping your now wet left breast covered by his cool palm. Fuck, that feels good. More moans spill from your mouth as he continues his ministrations. That slick is at your knees, probably. You can’t really tell cause it just feels like a wet, sticky mess down there at this point.

“Shoto,” you whine. He groans in response. “Hurryyyyy up,” you drag out that ‘y’ as you mewl. You shudder as he chuckles against your tender skin. Tender from his bites and sucking, of course.

“You want me to go faster?” He pulls away from your breast, face coming back close to yours. You whine and nod your affirmation.

“But if I go faster,” he strokes your cheek softly with the back of his index finger, “you’ll miss out on all the fun.” His finger trails down to your chin, gripping it tightly but playfully with his other fingers.

Damn, you’re getting wetter by the second. He’s doesn’t usually tease you during your intimacy. Prefers that slow, soul-binding kinda love-making.

He just smirks at you before moving back to his painstakingly slow kisses and sucks on your breast. He only moves down to your ribs once he’s satisfied and you’ve probably soaked the bed sheets with how much he’s turning you on. It’s driving you insane. No. He drives you insane.

Shoto’s hands wrap around your ribs, feeling their rise and fall and their ridges. “Beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing each rung. He keeps those eyes on you. All cocky. He knows what he’s doing to you and he likes how pathetic it makes you for him. And you can’t help but like it too.

After thoroughly kissing and touching every part of your torso, your arms, your everything really, he’s finally fingering your low waistband. You sigh relief and begin wriggling, trying to get those pants off as fast as possible, but your Alpha is still having none of it.

“Be patient,” he growls as he squeezes your clothed inner thigh, your flesh perking up between his fingers.

“But Alpha—”

“I said,” he stares you down, this dark look in his eyes, “be patient.”

You whine, “Yes Alpha.”

Hearing your compliance, he loosens his grip on your thigh and begins kissing your hip bones and skin just above the band. Fuck, he’s really killing you this time. I thought alphas were all, “Let’s bang. Now. Hard.” when they’re rutting but, I guess not. Maybe, Shoto didn’t completely lie to you by saying that his ruts were different to other alphas. Or maybe, he just wants to tease you for once.

You’re brought back to reality when you gasp reflexively to him biting into your inner thigh through your wet pants. Wet as in soaked and clinging to your hot skin.

“You’re not focusing on me.” Shoto’s voice is low, raspy. Fuck, you love it when he talks like that. Especially just after he’s woken up and you two have some fun together before getting up.

“And you’re not even focusing on me right now.” He bites even harder into your thigh, breaking through the fabric and pulling little red dots to the surface of your now swollen, marked flesh.

“I,” you breath out. “I thought you wanted me to be patient.”

“I want you to do both. Can you manage that? Or is that too much for my little girl?” He’s got a shit-eating grin across face. Since when was your husband such a tease, and such a good fucking one at that? It’s the years of pills, you decide.

“N-no, I can’t manage. Help me m-manage.” You imagine that you must look like some blubbering, whimpering mess right now, and you’re not even naked yet. And he’s not even naked yet.

“Okay,” his grin widens.

Licking those glorious lips, those lips that you want on yours and not the ones on your face if you know what I mean, he pulls away from your thighs. He gets up from the bed, taking off his grey sweatpants and briefs. And fuck, you’re not ready for what meets you. For real. Swollen, hard, precum dripping down the shaft.

He smirks at you as he grabs his cock with his hand, moaning on impact. His other hand comes up to his face, finger pointing to the side of his mouth. At this point, your sitting up, thighs to calves, legs spread wide, dragging your wide eyes up and down his body.

“You’re drooling.”

I would say that you blushed at hearing this, but you’re already red as fuck in the face with how hot he’s been making you. You’re embarrassed and laugh it off, hand coming to wipe that spit from the side of your mouth. Yea, that was definitely yours and not his from earlier. That had already dried.

“W-well, how can I not when,” you take a deep breath in and look back up at him, “when my husband looks this good.”

“Have I got your attention now?” That rasp. That will be the end of you. Or the end of these bed sheets, whichever comes first. You nod feverishly. “Good girl.”

Ah fuck. He’s praising you. Fuck. That’s it. If that dick isn’t in you within the next three minutes, who knows what will happen next. You start shuffling over toward him when he stops you.

“No. You stay there. I want you to watch.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles, amused by your reaction as you realise what’s going on. Is this how this twisted fucker wants you to help you 'be patient' and 'focus'? By not letting you touch him? And by not touching you?

“I can’t. No. Babe. No please.” You’re shaking your head vigorously, already rising from the bed when his hands find your shoulders and push you back to sit down on the edge.

“Watch.” His voice is commanding, absolute.

You’re forced to obey your alpha and sit there helplessly as he pumps his veiny cock with those veiny hands. The precum now all over his dick with even more leaking from the tip. His dick that should be in you right now. His eyes are trained on you, observing every stuttered breath you take in, every time you bite the side of your lip, how focused you are on how he’s pleasuring himself. That feels even better than his hands ever could. Fucking hell.

“Can I—” You start.

“No. Just watch."

“Not you but my—”

“No. Watch.” His tone is stern. His voice strained.

Fuck. If your hands were bound then this would be so much easier, but no, you’re forced to hold back from touching yourself by your alpha’s command and your own self-discipline. You doubt that you’re even allowed to rock your hips right now.

You watch as his movements get faster and now he’s panting. His eyes half-lidded and tongue darting out across his lower lip every so often. You can see the sweat beading on his chest. You start whining, wanting to be the one touching him like that. What you wouldn’t give to just… just have him right now.

“Please,” you begin. Which becomes a slew of please daddy, please, please let me touch you, please, I’m sorry that I took your suppressants, I’m sorry okay, I’m sorry Alpha, I’m sorry that I wasn’t being patient or f-focusing on you, please Alpha, please let me touch you, please, please, please, please… You don’t stop. You can’t stop. All you can do is sit there, slick drenching the sheets below you even though you’re lower half is still clothed, and plead for your alpha to fuck you.

His pale hips jerk forward and you can tell he’s really close. Would he even let you swallow it? But he stops. He stops and comes over to you, collapsing onto you, arms around your shoulders and neck.

“Shoto,” you squeak, but it’s muffled by his weight falling onto you. He huffs into your ear and you just rub his back.

“Tired already,” you jest, but he’s not in the mood to play with you anymore.

“Enough. I can’t cuddle my wife?” He mumbles grumpily into your shoulder before taking the flesh between his teeth.

You hum, “You can always cuddle your wife, but I’d like it more if you fucked me.” He chuckles low, right below your ear. You feel it vibrating through his throat and chest.

“Yea, I bet you would.”

He holds you for a little longer before pulling back, peeling his sweaty body off yours.

“Alright, I’ll give you your reward,” he smiles lazily, even showing off one side of his pearly whites.

You squeal with delight, “Finally!”

“Oi, settle,” he says as positions you so that he’s between your legs, spread wide, slowly pulling both pants and panties off you. Oi?

“So, you’ve been on patrol with Dynami—”

“Don’t mention him,” Shoto growls. He’s been doin’ a lotta that today and you like it. A lot. “Or anyone else right now. It’s just you and me.” You nod submissively. You really should stop riling him up sometimes. But you can’t help it. You’re a cheeky little shit after all.

The relief that engulfs you once those dreadful clothes are off brings out a sigh of pleasure from you. He doesn’t make you wait any longer. He’s already at the source of your heat, lapping up your slick like it’s the elixir of life. To him, it is. You whimper and mewl as his tongue makes its’ way between your folds. It feels so warm and wet, perfect against your swollen lips. You relish in the feeling of what he’s doing to you.

Shoto eats you out like he’s been starved. Greedily, hungrily, in a frenzy. Without a break for air, he keeps going. That tongue, those long digits curling inside of you, his lips, all making you shake and mew. The whimpers and words leaving your mouth are unholy and impure, some real nasty shit.

Only he can get you like this. Only he can have you saying shit like, “Fuck me however you want, daddy.” Or, “Knot in me, alpha! Breed your little omega!”

Once he’s had his fill, he moves away from your core, grabbing your hips and flipping you over, onto your stomach. His fingers are back at your folds, playing with your clit and teasing your entrance, drawing more filthy moans from you. You feel him move on top of you, straddling you. He withdraws his fingers, replacing them with what you’ve been craving for this entire time.

You moan loudly as he fills you up, completely, inch-by-inch. He groans as you draw him in, tight walls clenching around his girth. He stays still for a few moments, allowing you to get comfortable, before he sets a brutal pace. You hands are by your shoulders, gripping the sheets as he fucks you.

Your body is shaking, contorting to his every rough thrust in and out. It’s got your mind absolutely filled with how only your mate can do this to you. You can’t even form a sentence. You mewl, over and over, to the sound of your skin slapping harshly together. Your mingled groans and moans, all that dirty shit dripping from your mouths fill the room. It’s humid. Sweat coating your bodies. Your hair is stuck to your forehead.

Your favourite part — besides from how tight he’s gripping your hips, likely (and hopefully) leaving bruises on your soft skin — is how deep he gets. His tip reaches that perfect spot, making your toes curl and knees bend, before he draws back out, and he does it again and again.

“Sh-sho-shot-to." He grunts out in response. “Sho-sho-I—” Fuck, you can’t even get the sentence out. That’s how brain fucked, how body fucked, this man’s got you.

“What?” He growls. He’s breathing hard, you can hear it, and it makes you drip even more and he can feel it.

“Use your words, baby. What is it?” He groans.

The filthy sounds of him pounding you fills your ears. The squelching of your juices around his length. You can’t even remember what you were trying to say. Oh! That’s right!

“I-I Shoto-Sho fuck I’m-I-I’m gonna,” your voice is quiet and breathy, but he still hears you clearly.

He can feel your thighs beginning to shake, the way your pussy tightens and then releases, and he knows what you mean. “I know,” he grunts again. You continue to moan, feeling your climax coming in hard n’ fast. You gotta know if—

“Just hold on for me, alright. Just-just hold on.” You whimper in response. Not cum yet? You don’t know if you can do that.

“I’ll try—”

He cuts you off, saying, “You will wait for me.”

Your moans and mewls get louder as you get closer, as does his growls and grunts. Even if you can’t wait for him , it doesn’t really matter, you still benefit.

He picks up the pace. You never even realised he had this kinda stamina. But, you should of known. He is THE pro hero ‘Shoto’.

It feels impossibly more pleasurable. It’s like he’s surrounding you. Every thrust is godsent. You couldn’t escape the pleasure of this moment, even if you tried. Your orgasm is building and building, threatening to crash down on you any second now.

“Shoto!” You cry out. You’ve got tears in your eyes. Your shaking, trembling, convulsing as you climax. You squeeze around him hard, sending him over the edge with you. You’re sobbing and screaming at this point, as you feel his knot swell and plunge into you. Thick, white, hot ropes spilling into you. Filling you completely with his seed. Fuck.

You ride out the high together, him rocking into you and you rocking as much as you can manage back into him. Breathing out, he leans down, pulling you back and laying you two on your sides. You groan at the movement, still experiencing those last minute tremors of your orgasm. His legs intertwine with yours, arms wrapping around you. He strokes your head, drawing you close into him as you both calm down. You sniffle and he takes this opportunity wipe the tears from your eyes.

You giggle, “Thanks, honey.” The words dampened by your sudden emotional outburst.

“Anything for you, love," he responds as he kisses the side of your forehead and moves to grab the blankets, pulling them over you two, up to your chin. You snuggle back into him, hands grasping his forearms, a mindless smile spreading across your face.

You say, “You’re not done with me yet, are you?”

He remains silent for a few seconds, before groaning into your hair. It still smells like fresh cut strawberries in the midst of all the scents filling the room.

“Only if you tell me where you hid my suppressants.”

“Than I’m never telling you!” You squeal. There ain’t no way you’re gonna give up this side of your alpha just yet.

“Hey, that’s not what you should be saying,” hey says. His voice is low, bordering on a growl.

“Sorry for not following your script," you say. And now you’re the one wearing a shit-eating grin.

“You know,” he shifts, now leaning over you and narrowing his doe eyes at you, “if you insist on acting up, then maybe I will just have to fuck you through this rut of mine.”

“I hope you do,” you say with a smirk even wider.

“’Course you do,” he grumbles, laying back down again, nose buried in your hair.

You two lay in silence until his knot goes down, and he can finally pull out. He turn you back onto your stomach and pulls the blankets back, drawing out slowly, making you moan. His cum gushes out, further eliciting moans from you.

You can feel it dripping down your the back of your thigh. Shoto watches, enjoying the sight. Though, before he’s realise it, he’s got his fingers inside of you, finger-fucking that cum back into you. You can’t help but start whimpering and moaning even louder as you feel him fingering you.

“Shoto…”

He draws his fingers back out, letting the cum drip out again. He’s tempted to slide them back into you so that no more escapes, but he refrains from doing so, knowing that you two need to talk a bit more about kids than just “Do you want kids? Yea, I want kids. Do you? Yea, sounds good.”

He clears his throat before saying, “I hope you’re ready, baby.” He wraps his hand around your waist and turns you over, onto your back. Your eyes find each other. The sun’s setting, illuminating how wet and dewy and bruised your soft flesh is.

You breathe out, smiling happily, “I’m ready.”

the bird in me

hawks x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — bird mating drabbles, throwing up, you're a barista, fluff, sexual implications at the end, 3.5k words

a/n: this has to be one of my favourite works so far

regurgitation

it’s bad. every time he sees you, he can feel the churning in his stomach. something as simple as a smile or wave is enough to have his fist pressed to his lips, loudly clearing his suddenly tight throat.

every time you talk, he’s trying hard not to make a fool of himself (and failing miserably). he’s constantly ahem-ing or coughing, anything to push the rising bile back down his oesophagus.

he wills himself to be a man, to take the acidic burn with pride because he’s fortunate enough to be acknowledged by such a beautiful and intelligent girl. but by the five-minute mark, he’s excusing himself to the bathroom and throwing up this morning’s breakfast.

you thought he was just shy at first, but as it continues to happen, you begin to think he doesn’t like you.

the bell chimes as the café door swings shut. you gaze over the coffee machine, spotting those bright red feathers against the gloom of the night.

you take a deep breath in, rolling your eyes as you drawl, “we closed ten minutes ago, mr hawks.” a nervous laugh, your interest is piqued.

“i know, dove, but i wanted to see you,” he says confidently, only to clear his throat right afterwards.

your brow furrows, and you say more bluntly than intended, “well, i don’t know. you’re always trying to run away from me. your usual?”

“yes please,” he says, waltzing over to you. he rests his weight against the bench, watching you brew his double-shot cappuccino. ahem. he continues. “and i’m not trying to run away from you. never have—”

“doesn’t seem that way to me,” you cut him off. he coughs ostentatiously into his elbow, his face heating up from the sheer strength it’s taking to not throw up right now. he can’t help it!

you continue as you pour the thick foam into the takeaway cup, “you’ve only got few minutes for me before you’re dashing off. i mean i know you’re busy, but do you not have any better excuses? like, for a pro hero, you sure are shit at lying.” you’re glaring holes into the creamy milk as you shake chocolate powder on top of it.

you mumble, “if you don’t like me you can just say so.” the snap of the lid on the little paper cup echoes through the empty café. hawks hears his heart crack a little at your words. not like you? how could he not like you?! wasn’t it obvious—ahem!

he gasps, “bathroom?” you roll your eyes.

“at the back. hey!” your arms are raised as you glare after him, watching as he rushes to the bathroom.

you whisper-yell to yourself, “what the fuck?!” you slide his hot coffee to the edge of the bench and huff, fed up with his perplexing behaviour. if the night wasn’t so still, and the streets surrounding your tiny café so quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him violently throwing up in the men’s bathroom. but you do.

your eyes widen and then crinkle as you wince, wishing that such disgusting sounds weren’t ricocheting off the walls. you pull the bow of your apron loose and shrug it off, leaving it on a nearby table as you make your way to the bathrooms.

you hear the toilet flush as you body slam the heavy, olive green door open. white lights sting your eyes as you search for any sign of your most loyal customer. you find him resting against an open stall door, eyes closed, lips chapped, and forehead beading with sweat.

“mr hawks?” you say gently. his golden eyes shoot open and find you immediately. he smiles incredulously, and his voice is thick as he rasps, “this is the men’s ro—”

“shut the fuck up. are you okay?” you shift closer to him, but he moves back, calves hitting the toilet seat. you stop in your tracks, caging him in the small stall. his eyes dart to the side as he weighs up how to get out of the corner he’s backed himself into.

seeing his nervousness, you sigh. you turn and begin to walk out of the bathroom. he catches your elbow by the sinks and pulls you into his chest. you yelp as you hit his solid frame, utterly bewildered. his large hands gently squeeze your upper arms as you tilt your head up, gazing at him.

you mutter, “what is it?” he shakes his head, eyes dropping and unintentionally resting on your collarbone peeking out of your uniform. great, the pro hero thinks. that familiar sensation is reignited at the base of his throat.

he chokes out, “i-just give me a minute.” he let’s go of your arms and wanders back into the stall, shutting the door and bolting it this time. you groan, wrapping your arms around yourself as you listen to him throw up again, his chunky symphony amplified by these fuck ass tiles.

interjecting the flush of the toilet is the stall door slamming open. out strolls a lazily grinning hawks. he chuckles, “don’t tell me you have to clean in here.”

you sigh, “of course i do.”

he stops in front of you and shrugs, “then give me the mop and bucket and i’ll take care of it, alright?”

you shake your head, muttering, “look don’t worry about that. are you okay? what’s going on? you just threw up like twice. do you have food pois—”

“i feel great, actually. now, about what you were saying earlier,” he reaches out and takes your hands in his awfully clammy ones.

your shoulders slump as you huff, trying to pull your hands back. “hawks—”

“ya know, i really wish you would stop calling me that, dove.” he draws you in close, his body heat seeping through his clothes into you.

you retort, “and i really wish that you would stop interrupting me.” he opens his mouth, sucking in a breath as though he’s about to speak, and then he doesn’t.

the stifling air is quiet for a moment before the pro hero mutters, “sorry.” you shake your head as your mouth draws into a hard line. but you inevitably soften as he jerks away from you, coughing.

quietening down, he rasps, “i really like you, okay? i’m not trying to run away from you. quite the opposite, actually.” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, concerned that you can feel his heart jumping out of his chest. at least his stomach isn’t lurching anymore. he really did need that release.

seconds pass in tense silence as you wait for him to explain. he sighs, “i swear, y/n, i like you.”

“but,” you say, emphasising the ‘t’. he looks away from you, gathering his courage for what he’s about to say.

he breathes out, “don’t laugh, okay?” you nod, about to tear your hair out from the suspense. this man really knows how to dodge questions, you think.

“every time i see you… i wanna throw up.” he mutters that last part at the end as he gazes down at the minute crevices between your bodies.

your eyes widen as you exclaim, “you what?!” he grip tightens on your hands as he shakes his head fervently.

“because-um-it’s a bird thing. i wanna throw up because i like you, okay?” your mouth hangs half-open as you try to register his words.

he brings your hands to his lips and chastely kisses your knuckles. you stare at him in disbelief, stuttering, “i-it’s a bird thing? you-you wanting to throw up every time you see me?”

he nods, “technically, i want to regurgitate every time i see you. the bird part of me wants to prove to you that i’m a good partner.”

that night, you make sure he’s had some food and electrolytes before drinking his cold cappuccino.

preening

ever since you two started dating, it’s become a routine for kei to preen his feathers just before bed, and for you to simply sit across from him on the sofa, reading a book, scrolling on your phone, or watching him.

but tonight as you take up your usual spot on the couch, kei plops down next to you. he gently nudges your arm, catching your attention.

you mumble, “what is it, babe?” as you lock your phone. he kisses from your cheek to your jaw, earning an airy giggle from you.

he mutters into your skin, “will you preen my wings tonight?” your eyes widen as you let out a stuttered breath.

you pull back, saying nervously, “k-kei, honey, you sure? i’ve never preened anything before.” he hums as he slides off the couch and sits on the floor in front of you. he holds up a bottle of oil and you take it from him while explains how to preen his feathers.

you start with the feathers closest to his body and work your way out, from top to bottom. as your fingers work over his feathers, pulling debris from them and realigning the barbs, your bird boy hums.

you drop another piece of tarmac on the coffee table, saying, “you could hide a fucking road in here with how much rubble i’m pulling out right now.” kei chuckles and sighs, feeling you remove yet another remnant of today’s battles.

“are they always this dirty?” you question. your hero nods. it takes longer for you to preen him than if kei were to preen his feathers, but he appreciates your delicate and loving touch.

and the next night, he asks if you can preen his wings again. and soon, your routine has changed to you preening his feathers every night before bed.

gift-giving, scent marking, nesting

the cold winter nights warm and scrawny branches bloom with flowers, signifying that spring has arrived.

it was subtle at first, kei would bring home flowers for you every few days, claiming that his perfect girl deserved to be spoiled. and he claimed the same when he started making the most delicious dinners for you two every night, and when he started gifting you the most luxurious necklaces and shoes and bags you’ve ever owned.

when you woke up this morning, your bed sheets smelt of citrus. so fresh and divine, you sighed and rolled around, cocooning yourself in the quilt to get another whiff of that scent. you liked the smell so much that you got out of bed still wrapped up in the quilt, and dragged it around home with you all day (it’s your day off).

as kei closes the door behind him after another long day, you rush up to him, quilt left lonely. you throw yourself into his awaiting arms, sighing as his zesty scent washes over you. you sigh, melding your body against his as you inhale his musk.

he chuckles softly, “hey, dove. missed me, huh?”

you hum and mumble into his compression shirt, “you smell so good. since when did you smell like citrus though?” pulling back and pointing to the quilt on the sofa, you continue, “i thought you just bought some new laundry detergent or something.”

kei shrugs it off, claiming that he bought a new cologne (lies). but not before he draws you back into his arms and rubs the side of his face and neck all over your face and neck. sighing, you let him off the hook but resolve to keep an eye on him.

rummaging through his duffle bag, he says excitedly, "d'you wanna see what i got you, dove?" you press your lips together, disappointed by kei's spending habits lately. but not for long as he hands you a sealed box of the perfume you've been eying for years (it's vanilla2 by maison tahité for me).

you squeal in delight and thank him profusely, smothering his cheeks and lips and stubble with kisses before skipping off to your room to try your new perfume (kei rocks you gently as you have a cry over how blessed you are to have such an attentive partner).

for the next week, you swear you can hear shuffling in the early hours of the morning. as soon as you lift your head off the pillows though and search the dark room for some kind of movement, everything stills. you usually fall back asleep, but tonight is a bit different.

again, you wake to muffled sounds emanating from somewhere in your apartment. groaning, you bury your head into your pillow, only to rise from it a minute later when you hear a loud thud. roused from your sleepy daze, you get out of bed and caress the door frame for wayyy too long before you eventually find the light switch.

your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness quickly, and everything looks the same as it usually does. but something is missing. or rather, someone.

you step out of your shared bedroom and stare down the hall, seeing a familiar glow curling its fingers beneath one of the doors. as you approach it, you realise that the light is coming from kei’s office.

but it’s not just the light that is coming from his office. this sound, like something sliding against the floorboards, resonates from behind the wooden door.

you stand outside his office, leaning your ear against the door to eavesdrop. but the noise stops abruptly, as if kei (who you assume is inside) knows you’re right there.

you turn the doorknob and push the door open, revealing a dishevelled-looking kei amidst a heap of blankets. you blink at him dumbly, sleepily, and confused.

“kei,” you drawl. “what’re you doing?” he chuckles nervously as he stands from his crouched position and comes over to you, tripping on a blanket’s edge in the process. you catch his upper arms and help him to steady himself.

he gazes at you frantically, muttering, “’mnotdoinganythingchickpea. whydon’twegobacktobed?” his hands encircle your wrists and gently push you back toward the door. you shake your head.

“keigo takami,” you say in that serious tone parents reserve for when their child misbehaves. “what’re tryna hide from me?”

“nothing!” he exclaims far too loudly and quickly. you raise your brow at him while your eyes trail over his messy hair and half-unbuttoned pj shirt. you catch a glimpse of his toned muscles and golden-brown snail trail beneath the soft cotton. you gulp and avert your eyes to the mess behind him. he side steps, blocking your view.

you groan, “keigo.”

“please dove, promise i’ll show you later, okay?” he pleads.

you roll your eyes, sighing, “you cooking up a grand masterpiece or something back there?” he nods and hums. you let him have his way, following him back to bed and curling tight into his chest, hoping he won’t be able to get away without waking you.

for the next week, you’re banned from entering kei’s office. he claims that he’s working on a big surprise for you, which melts your heart and makes you laugh.

one night after dinner, he takes you by the hand and leads you to his office. dramatic as ever, he makes you close your eyes before he opens the door and guides you inside. when you open your eyes, you see the fruits of his efforts.

before you lies a little nook crafted out of throws and cushions. you giggle as you take in his little nest. it looks so cosy and inviting. 

you exclaim, “kei, this is so sweet!” you turn around and warmly hug him, content to nuzzle into his zesty scent. he kisses your forehead and nudges you closer to his nest. he holds your hand as you sit down in the centre of it, relishing in his overpowering musk. he sits next to you and cuddles with you, peppering your face and neck with tender kisses as he mumbles against your hot flesh how much he loves you.

interpretive dance and singing

it’s the peak of spring; the flowers are in full bloom, the skies are blue, and the temperature is just right for you to wear all your favourite dresses.

tonight is like most other nights. after preening kei’s feathers, you take a shower. you’re soothing moisturiser into your skin as your boyfriend comes into view. you gaze at him in the mirror, smiling brightly. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, ignorant of the damp towel enveloping your body.

pouring body oil into your palm, you tell him to move. but he doesn’t budge an inch. instead, he wipes the oil out of your palm and warms it in his rough hands. he caresses your shoulders, briefly massaging them before rubbing the oil into your back. his fingertips dip below the towel’s edge, earning a sigh from you.

you tilt your head back to look at your lover. he grins down at you and gently kisses you while wrapping his arms around yours and pulling you back into his firm body.

craving his sweetness, you turn around in his hold, cupping his cheeks and deepening the kiss. tongues swirl and ignite a buried fire in the pits of your stomachs.

kei’s hands roam your body as he sucks on your lower lip. such teasing touches have your towel slipping and eventually pooling on the bathroom floor. he grips your hips, squeezing them as he groans into your mouth.

you two separate for a brief moment, catching your breath and each other’s eyes. he gazes at you lustfully; he’s desperate to mould your body to his all night long, to make you his in the most intimate of ways.

your fingers trail up his exposed biceps before you wrap your arms around his neck. you draw him down to you, smirking as you whisper in his ear, “i know you want me, baby.”

he chuckles gruffly against your skin, the sound doing unholy things to you. his citrusy scent is intoxicating up this close. you breathe in deeply, his thick musk filling your lungs.

he rasps, “yea, i do. i want you so bad, dove.” you hum before nipping at his ear lobe. the small gesture sends a thrill of pleasure shuddering throughout his body.

kei should know this by now, but nothing comes for free. he’s seen the cruelty of this world, and even though you’re his escape from it all, he shouldn’t be as wide-eyed and breathless from your next words.

“oh yea? show me,” you whisper seductively. it’s like everything was dark before you spoke. and now that you have, the lights have been switched on. your words are like the gospel, true and calling him to action. and yet, they’re so impure. kei has been enlightened.

he steps back from you, the cool air wafting over your bare skin. your nipples harden as you bite your lip, looking at him nervously. your lover shakes his head, saying lowly, “meet me in the living room once you’re done.” you hum as you nod, rather intrigued by kei’s sudden change in mood.

when you’ve finally finished your post-shower routine, you head to the living room. your jaw slackens, and your brows raise as you enter, seeing the coffee table moved and couches pushed back to create space in the centre. you blink dumbly as he comes over to you.

he wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you to one of the sofas, saying cockily, “take a seat, chickpea.” you follow his instruction, making yourself comfortable on the sofa while your boyfriend steps back. he catches your eyes, the look in his awfully serious.

you ask confused, “kei, what’s going on?” he shakes his head.

clearing his throat, he begins to sing. you blink at him dumbly as you register his sweet praises that are surprisingly on-key. he spreads his arms wide before rolling his wrists and body in time with his words. you grab the nearest cushion and hold it tight as your mouth hangs open.

your eyes are trained on his quick, rhythmic movements. he spins around and jumps, his voice never faltering. you shriek playfully as he locks eyes with you. his wings spread out to his sides, his beautiful feathers on full display. you can feel your face heating up, cooking beneath the heat of this moment.

you can’t stop staring at him, drinking in how good he is at interpretive dance. you shriek again as he slaps his thighs in a wide stance. your laugh is stuttered as you raise the cushion up, blocking your view of him.

his singing stops and in a moment, the cushion is snatched from your hands and hurled across the room.

he pants, “’m not done, dove. watch me.”

you stutter in disbelief, “n-not done?” he hums as he steps back, ready to continue his performance.

shaking your head, you exclaim, “kei, kei, it’s okay! you don’t have to keep going.”

he pouts, “don’t you like my dance? or my song?” you’re rendered speechless as you stare at him. he tilts his head toward you expectantly, but you can’t speak. you’re far too stunned by his musical display to say anything. the air shifts as he chuckles softly and steps toward you. he plops down on top of you, squishing you against the sofa.

he mutters into the crook of your neck, “did i show you have much i want you?” you groan from his weight as you thread your fingers through his hair.

you kiss his damp forehead, saying amusedly, “oh yea. i, uh, i liked that song you sang. what’s it called? ‘the bird in me’?” he bites your shoulder lightly, but the sudden sensation makes you gasp.

your hands are already shoving at his chest as he grunts sarcastically, “yea, it’s called ‘the bird in me’. i wrote it just for you, chickpea.” he raises his head and pulls off you a little, giving you a bit of breathing room. your chest rises high, grazing his as you take in the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“now, let me have my reward.”

I also support the matriarchy🤝

Those Bakugou texts for the girls night out party were sooo cute, could you do a version for Kiri, please?

ofc ofc tysm for liking baku's version <3

bitches cant say excuse me // eijirou kirishima smau

they see you in lingerie v.3

lov x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — implied smut, 770 words

ua students, pro heroes

todoroki touya (dabi)

⭑.ᐟ you don’t get a chance to walk out of the wardrobe as dabi barges in. he was getting impatient with how long you were taking. as soon as he lays eyes on you, his usual smirk stretches across his phase. his gaze is filled with pride and lust at how sexy his girl looks for him. you’re in blue, the set matches his sharp eyes.

“well, what do you have here?” he teases. you giggle as he slowly steps forward, charred fingers slipping from the doorknob.

“you gonna spin for me?” he asks in the lazy drawl. he’s standing a little way in front of you, hands slipping into his pockets. he stares at you expectantly. you nod and twirl slowly for him. you love the feeling of his undivided attention on you.

dabi can’t resist it when you wear blue. makes him feel something when he sees how much you adore him, enough to drape your body in the colour of his eyes and flames.

he can’t take it anymore. he closes the gap between you and grabs your roughly by the waist. you’re giggling coyly as you fall into his chest. his hand is already on your jaw, fingers pressing hard into your flesh and forcing your head back and up to look into those ocean eyes.

that night he claims you for himself in more ways than just physical.

shimura tenko (shigaraki tomura)

⭑.ᐟ when you step out, you catch sight of shigaraki. he’s sitting on the edge of your bed, fully engrossed in the video game he’s playing. he got impatient and decided to resume his game as you were taking your sweet time.

he doesn’t notice you step out cause he’s about to win. you couldn’t care less though. in fact, you’re a bit annoyed that he couldn’t just wait until you were done showing him the lingeries set you had got for him, to resume his game.

you stalk over to him, coming to stand right in front of him, blocking his view of the TV. your arms are crossed over your chest. your boyfriend glares at your frame momentarily before putting the controller down with a sigh and looking up at you. you’re staring down at him harshly.

“what?” he huffs. you narrow your eyes at him. “really? you couldn’t wait.” you say, your pretty forehead creased. at this, shigaraki looks away for a second before focusing back on you. “no," he says as he leans forward, eyes trailing over your curvaceous figure. he does so for a few moments before standing up and heading to the drawer beside your bed. he pulls out a pair of black drawing gloves and you know that tonight’s gonna be good.

he used to fumble a lot in the beginning, when you two were becoming more intimate. but, he’s a fast learner. the gloves are there just in case shigaraki’s control over his quirk falters.

bubaigawara jin (twice)

⭑.ᐟ when you come out, there’s at least six of jin’s clones crowding the bedroom while the real jin sits on the bed. you can tell it’s him as he’s just staring at you, silently appreciating the breath-taking sight that is you. he’s still in his villain costume.

jin’s clones start coming up to you, telling you how gorgeous you look. one takes your hands while another wraps their arm around your waist. you giggle, flattered by all of the attention. you look over to the real jin, tilting your head to the side as he continues to stare at you.

you wanted it to just be you two tonight, as usually his clones are always around.

jin just keeps looking at you beneath the white sockets of his mask, admiring you. confused as to how such a perfect goddess could possibly be interested in him.

as another clone fingers the lace of your panties, you turn slightly and whine at it. looking back at jin, you run slightly to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and coming to straddle his lap.

“jin,” you pout. “jin, can it just be us tonight?” his covered hands come to your waist and upper back.

“just us?” he questions softly into your ear. you nod, leaning back and cupping his face in your hands. you stare into those white sockets, searching for his gray-blue eyes beneath.

“just you and me,” you say smiling at him. he gently rubs your upper arms with his thumbs. you can here the incessant chatter of his clones cease as they melt, dripping onto the carpet to disintegrate.

you give him a kiss through his mask, knowing that it’s too much to ask his to take it off. he’s doing enough right now, choosing to love you like this.

imagine katsuki’s reaction to bunny fem!reader being clingy after sex.

he’s taking you from behind, his tip hitting that perfect spot inside of you. at this point, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum.

as you feel that familiar tightening in your tummy, your moans become strangled.

katsuki groans with each rough thrust, “fuck—c’mon on, baby. c’mon on. cum f’me.” your moans reach a crescendo, building until you’re whimpering and shaking. your short nails dig hard enough into your palms to leave little marks.

you fall forward, face down on the bed, with your knees bent toward you. you're mewling from the pleasure your boyfriend’s cock ignites in you.

he rocks forward with you, your hips glued together and fluffy tail fluttering against his abs as he releases into you. he can’t help it (and he's stopped trying to), especially not when you’re clenching around him so tight.

the twitching of his cock and loud moans only make you tremble and whimper harder. your orgasm lasts longer than usual, little cries still escaping your lips as katsuki slowly draws out of your sopping cunt.

he rasps, “i’ll be back in a minute, baby.”

your eyes widen as you half push yourself up and twist back to look at him. you exclaim, “no!”

he’s got one leg off the bed when he stops, staring at you slack-jawed.

he quickly regains his composure, grinning, “i’ll just be a minute, doll—“

“no!” you grab his forearm and whimper as you pull yourself up onto your knees, edging closer to him.

seeing how shaky you are, katsuki climbs back onto the bed and wraps his arms around you. he tugs you into his chest, leaning to the side for a moment so he can wipe his sweaty palms on a pillow before stroking your long, floppy ears and hair.

he grumbles, “what’s gotten into you, brat?” you wince at the name and his tone, whimpering softly as you squeeze him tighter.

you mumble into his sweat-soaked neck, “please. need you.” you pull back and gaze at him, your eyes glassy.

katsuki’s heart misses a beat. all of a sudden, it’s like he can’t breathe. seeing his little girl all emotional and so damn cute has him in a chokehold.

he nods and lets you pull him down onto the bed with you. he holds you close and manoeuvres you so you’re lying together with your legs entangled.

your arms around around his neck as you press your tits against his (d^2 cup btw).

you sniffle, “need you ch-chest to chest, s-suki.” any cocky remark he usually would have cooked up is long gone as he holds you.

your body shudders as you sob into your boyfriend. he yanks the blankets up to your chin before running his fingers up and down your spine beneath them.

his eyes go wide as he feels the cocktail of his and your cum dripping onto his meaty thigh; the exact thing he was trying to prevent.

he grumbles, “yer makin’ a mess, bunny.” (shoot me the nickname is appropriate for the context it’s cute in my opinion if you don’t like it then scroll). his comment only makes you cry harder, a choked up “sorry” escaping your lips.

he draws you impossibly closer, earning a yelp from you as his wet thigh brushes your swollen clit.

“suki!” he kisses your soft ear, mumbling an apology into it.

after a few minutes, you calm down. sniffling, you pull back to gaze at him. your pretty eyes meet his as you stutter thickly, “p-please don’t le-leave me.”

katsuki’s brows knit together as he opens his mouth to tell you off for thinking he would ever consider it. but hearing your little whine from his scowl and seeing your cute little red nose twitching, he softens.

he sighs as one of his large hands pushes your face back into the crook of his neck. he mumbles into your hair, “'m not goin’ anywhere, alright?”

you whimper, “suki—"

he grumbles, “i mean it.” exhaling deeply, he says more gently this time, “i mean it, baby. ‘m not gonna leave you. nothing can ever take me away you, yea? ‘m all yours.”

you nod, your small palms pressed against his nape. you lean back and draw him into a delicate kiss.

katsuki whispers sweet praises and reassurances into your ear, making you feel safe and secure. after cuddling for a while, he coaxes you into letting him clean you up before you two fall asleep together.

a/n: i'm pretty sure this has been done before, but i hope you still like it!