Latest Posts by sparklylanddetective - Page 8

i like to imagine Izuku peaking over your shoulder while your on your laptop one day to find that you are playing the sims. He would wonder when you started playing since you never mentioned any interest in playing computer games like he occasionally does. Izuku spots two avatars that look very eerily like the both of you.

“Is that us Baby?” He asks innocently. The man notices the rise in your shoulders as if you were caught doing something scandalous.

“Yes?” You answered meekly. Hoping he doesn’t notice all the green haired children running around the house that you spent three hours building.

He does.

“Six huh?” He’s cocky now, his breath fanning down your warm neck.

“Let me live I just want to know what they would look like.”

Izuku hums and places a warm kiss on your cheek. He leans back up and heads towards the front door on his way to an appointment.

“I’m thinking eight, not six.”

( source )

Dabi: There’s always one bitch in the group who isn’t down for murder.

Spinner, whispering to Toga: Is he talking about me?!?!

Toga: Well, he’s definitely not talking about me.

anyways, sukuna manhandling you with all four arms at once.

two are used to hold your wrists pinned above your head, and the other two for spreading your legs wide open to the point of pain; rough fingers digging into the opposing softness of your thighs as he gets ready to fill both of your holes at the same time and making you moan like the obedient little servant you are for him.

and if you’re especially good, perhaps he’ll consider cumming inside you this time instead of spilling his warm release all over your stomach — which he doesn’t allow to get round with his offspring.

but only perhaps.

Barbarian King Bakugou who has a number of women presented before him so he may choose the three wives he will marry and rule with as all the kings and queens did before him.

Barbarian King Bakugou who only chooses one wife, you, only because of how similar you look to a woman he has loved his entire life but has never been able to be with.

You, who has been chosen by the Barbarian king, ripped from your homeland, forced on a boat over seas to a foreign land to be some savage’s whore for the rest of your life.

You, who overheard the reason why this so called King of Savages only chose you as his one wife.

You, full of contempt, wrath and resentment from being stolen from your home to be a watered down replacement, to be a slave to a man you will never love for the rest of your days.

You, whose sole purpose is to make your new “husband” regret ever pointing a finger to you and saying “I choose this one”.

songs of longing - pt. 1 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

gojo satoru ft. suguru geto

synopsis ⋆˙⟡ gojo watches from the sidelines as you fall in love with his best friend, grappling with the whirlwind of emotions upon realising his feelings for you. in the wake of your lover’s passing, he wrestles with his yearning to confess his love, feeling torn between honoring his loyalty to suguru and pursuing his own desires.

chapter contents ⋆˙⟡ angst, fluff if you squint hard enough, mild violence (sparring with geto)

notes ⋆˙⟡ it’s finally out! the first part to my mini series and probably the longest thing i've written in a long while so i hope you guys like it! i'm also gonna be pretty busy in the coming weeks but i'll try to get the remaining parts out asap

enjoy! ‧₊˚✩

gojo is first introduced to you when you're seven years of age, a year his junior, all winsome and toothless as he chases you through the corridors of his expansive abode.

his pale blue yukata flutters in the wind, giving life to the pattern of dragonflies that decorate the fabric. the pitter patter of feet on mahogany echoes through the hallways, your laughter a vast contrast to the otherwise solemn calm.

the gojos were one of three esteemed jujutsu sorcerer families, and perhaps the most regimented of the bunch.

for every new batch of sorcerers brought into the world, there came a need to celebrate. it was tradition for gatherings to be held in recognition of the approaching generation, typically hosted by one of the three main families.

despite its optimistic intentions, you felt nothing but the palpable atmosphere of tension between families, evident in their ice-cold stares, and faux smiles. what it really was, was an opportunity for gossip, whispers of which clans had succeeded in birthing capable heirs, and which had not, weaving their way through conversations and sparking the flames of speculation.

you had long since grown bored of listening to your parents engage in small talk with the other families, having left the crowd of people, marveled by the sheer size of the gojo residence.

your fascination with the unfamiliar territory had you tiptoeing around the labyrinth of passageways, passing by a few rooms, some of which had been left open wide enough for you to peek inside.

an odd looking keychain lying haphazardly on the floor catches your attention as you wandered the halls. you moved to pick it up, dangling it in front of your face to get a closer look before continuing on. it was then that you’d felt a presence close by, turning a corner and peeking out from behind a wall in hopes of uncovering the source.

it was a boy, no taller than you were, with silver hair and cerulean eyes, staring right back at you. he seemed apprehensive as he took a step forward, and you guessed that the toy had belonged to him.

you grinned cheekily as you took off, grasping the little thing in your hands as the boy gave chase, bringing you to the present moment.

“give it back!” he demands, and you turn to see him hot on your tail.

“i will!” you yell back, holding the toy above your head and slowly coming to a halt, raising your arms in surrender, “i just wanna see how it works!” the toy in question being a small rectangular device, translucent with a keyring hanging off one end. it had three little buttons alongside a small window of a screen.

"what is it?" you ask, baffled, your lips forming an 'o'.

the boy rolls his eyes as he stomps over to you, pointing at the toy. "that's a digimon virtual pet," he says matter-of-fact, crossing his arms over his chest to try and seem intimidating, unsure of your intentions.

you fiddle with the buttons, watching the pixels dance on screen to form little creatures. “woah,” you gawk in childish wonder, the boy allowing himself a moment to relax, intrigued by your genuine bewilderment.

“cool, huh?” he raises a brow, eyeing you from head to toe, and when he doesn’t sense any form of ill intent from you, he takes a step closer.

you pay him no mind, watching enthusiastically as a creature comes on screen, leaving a swirl of black pixels in its wake. “it’s pooping,” you giggle, bringing the device up to his face to show him as if it weren’t his to begin with. “look!”

he laughs, truly amused by your blitheness as he takes the device into his hands. “if you think that’s cool,” he pauses, fidgeting with the toy, “watch this!”

the suspense has you hovering over his shoulder on your tippy toes, watching as the little creatures stand in opposition, the words “battle” filling the screen.

“satoru,” another voice calls out, both of you whipping your heads to find a young woman clad in a yukata, her pale complexion complimenting the snowy white fabric of her garment. she gestures for him with a gentle flick of the wrist, a smile gracing her features

pretty, you think to yourself.

the boy turns back to you and shoves the toy somewhere within the folds of his yukata, and you almost miss the small pout tugging at his bottom lip. you find yourself mirroring his disappointment, knowing you’d have to part ways with your new friend.

the woman turns to face you, her affectionate smile radiating a warmth that makes your heart flutter. “you too, little lady,” she adds, and you perk up, exchanging a look of excitement with the boy as he extends a hand out to you.

“come on,” he beckons, and you reciprocate the gesture, placing your little hand in his before shaking it.

“i'm gojo satoru,” he tells you, keeping his gaze ahead in an attempt to seem stern and confident, like a grown up. but he flashes you a boyish grin when you tell him your name, both of you trailing behind the woman as you make your way back to the hall.

——————

four years later, gojo tells you that you’re his best friend, his cheeks flushed and his gaze averted.

you've come to witness the effects of his stringent upbringing as the era’s strongest sorcerer, his family's uncompromising nature being the main factor.

it was always training first, second, third; then whatever fleeting pockets of time he had left were spent trying to live as much of a normal childhood as he could.

it's no wonder he can be a little stoic at times, overtly disciplined for his age. he’s slowly growing out of it though, thanks to your influence and the incessant need to break him out of his shell.

“you’ve got all the time in the world to be boring when we’re all grown up,” you’d said to him.

he's grown about half a head taller than you since the time you first met, not entirely sure when that had happened, but you continue to hope that you'd get there too.

you're humming a tune, cotton candy in hand as you navigate through the throng of people, bright lights and festive music filling your senses. satoru follows closely behind you, busying himself with what was likely to be his third mizuame of the day.

“what a time to be alive,” you breathe, enjoying the gentle breeze on your skin.

your friend hums in agreement, pulling back the sleeves of his navy yukata to avoid getting them dirty. unsurprisingly, the sweet tooth has his hands (and mouth) full.

you love going to festivals, never failing to take it up as an opportunity to dress yourself in pretty garments, all the while indulging in the many treats that lined the streets of japan.

the both of you take turns deciding on what to feast on next, stopping at almost every yatai and ogling at the mouthwatering fares. you don’t miss out on the games either, always somehow turning it into a competition between the both of you.

he wins, of course. every single time, much to your dismay.

you tut, popping a dango into your mouth as the boy walks alongside you, his hands brimming with the prizes he's won. you hadn't even noticed it getting darker, the sun having set behind the clouds, the canopy of night adorning little flecks of white that light up the sky.

you slow, noticing a crowd of people stopping to peer up at the sky, the words “fireworks” reaching your ears. your grumpy expression soon washes over, an ear-splitting smile taking it’s place as you whip your head to face your puzzled looking friend.

“it’s starting, it’s starting!” you squeal, buzzing with excitement as you grab onto his arm, careful not to squeeze him too hard as you lead him to a good spot atop a small grassy hill.

you make it just in time as the velvety sky erupts into a mix of bright colours, booms resounding from the fireworks above. your mouth hangs open in awe, wide eyes reflecting the vibrant colours illuminating the sky.

satoru smiles, his boyish grin spreading across his face as silver strands dance around his forehead. “so cool,” he almost whispers, clearly enjoying the show just as much as you are.

“aren’t you glad i brought you along?” you ask, a proud smile on your face.

satoru taps a finger to his chin, humming as he pretends to think. “maybe,” he drawls.

“well, you’re welcome,” you say, smugly. your response has him rolling his eyes, sticking out his tongue to let out an exaggerated blegh. you reach up to flick his forehead, but find yourself stopping a mere few inches away from his face, pushing against the repulsive force of his infinity that keeps you from reaching him.

“that's not fair!”

“it's okay to admit you're jealous, y'know. i won’t judge."

"dick."

you take it back, you much preferred it when he was quiet.

"thank you," he says more seriously now, still keeping his gaze fixed on the sky. his words are enough to knock you out of your annoyance as you turn to face him.

he finds your gaze, and there's a softness in his eyes, something you don’t see very often, the explosion of colours in the sky reflecting off his face like a watercolour painting.

he looks away again, and he’s thankful you can’t see the tinge of pink that tints his cheeks under the low lighting.

pretty, you find yourself thinking, just as you had years ago. but you’d never tell him that. he doesn’t need the ego boost.

“for being my best friend.”

you're used to his usual attitude and snarky remarks, but it's always a little surprising whenever he gets like this, seemingly out of the blue.

you almost miss it, his words coming out in a soft murmur. you blink once, twice, opening your mouth to say something but you’re at a loss for words. your heart swells with something you’re not entirely sure of, but thankfully, gojo clears his throat, returning to his usual boyish demeanour and saying, “can we get back to the food now?”

——————

time seems to fly as you both find yourselves in your first year at jujutsu high, accompanied by two other students in your year; a brunette with short, tousled hair, accentuated by a subtle beauty mark beneath her right eye. the other was a taller male, similar in height to satoru, his long, dark hair often pulled back into a bun. his ears bore the faint stretch of black gauges, adding an edge to his appearance.

you don't know when you first started to notice, but you liked talking to geto; his voice was mellow, a soothing lullaby to your ears. you’ve got a (not so small) crush on him, you’ll admit, finding comfort in his presence like a warm blanket that shielded you from the cold.

he's so different, yet similar to your white-haired friend all at the same time. the latter had taken a liking to him rather quickly. despite all the bickering, they share an underlying endearment, with gojo looking to him as a kind of moral compass.

the four of you had been training together for the last couple of months, today being no different as you take turns sparring each other on the school field.

shoko takes her usual spot under a tree, perfectly content with sitting out. you don't mind it though, knowing combat wasn’t something she’s ever really been interested in, given her role as your team’s resident healer.

"c’mon, we don't have all day!" satoru nags, round tinted glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose, a new thing to help keep him from overexerting his six eyes.

they’re stylish and fitting for him, you think.

"you ready?" geto asks, snapping you out of your train of thought.

"’course i am," you bite back, playfully. he responds with a smile, and your breath hitches in your throat. damn it.

"loser pays for dinner!" gojo chimes in, shoko echoing after him as he signals the start of your fight.

you roll your eyes, lunging towards your opponent. he doesn't even flinch, stepping aside to summon a low-level curse, which you'd anticipated. you ground yourself before jumping onto it’s back, slicing through the curse with ease and taking the opportunity to push forwards.

your fists collide with geto's as you concentrate on throwing strategic punches, all the while avoiding his. it's hard keeping up, his ability in close combat eclipsing your own. your muscles scream for relief, your body growing tired from the previous matches you’ve had as you leap back to catch your breath.

suguru fixes his posture, inky strands sticking to his forehead, “payin’ for dinner again today?” he teases, and you huff.

“second time in a row!” gojo adds, pursing his lips in a mock kissy face as he wriggles his arms.

you ignore his antics, rushing towards geto once more, sliding yourself between his legs and catching him by surprise as you land a kick to his back. the force has him stumbling forwards and you grab hold of him, preparing to take him down.

in your eagerness, you don’t see a curse he’s summoned as it tackles you to the dirt, leaving you stunned momentarily.

when did he-

the next thing you know, suguru has his hand up against your throat, his fingers ghosting over the skin of your neck to signal the end of your match. you’re praying he doesn’t see the way your face burns a bright red as he lends you hand, pulling you up to your feet with ease.

“gotta work on paying attention,” he says, with that damn smile of his that gives you butterflies. you do nothing but nod, concentrating on steadying your heartbeat as it thumps loudly in your chest.

you pat down your uniform, swiping away the blades of grass that had clung to the fabric, jutting out your bottom lip in a small pout. suguru seems to notice, as he always does, sighing before ruffling your hair.

“we’ll split the bill.”

you look up at him, surprised. you open your mouth to protest, but satoru cuts you off, coming to rest his elbow on your shoulder as he coos.

“oh my hero!”

geto tuts, looking to you as he gestures to gojo, “how’ve you managed to stay friends for so long?”

“bribery,” you say, watching as vivid blue eyes narrow, moonlit eyebrows furrowing in tow, “lots of it.” he scowls with his mouth wide, letting out a loud, “hah?”

——————

“wouldn’t it be weird?”

“nah, why would it?”

“we’re in the same team and all,” geto sighs, leaning back against the bench with an arm propped up on the backrest. “didn’t you practically grow up together?”

satoru shrugs, casually taking a sip of his cola. normally, he’d be the one asking for advice, although he rarely heeded any of it. “i mean, yeah,” he nods, “but you like her don’t you? i’d say to just go for it.”

for reasons unbeknownst to the sorcerer, something in him sinks and with another swig of his carbonated beverage, he swallows the feeling. suguru’s right, you did practically grow up together, your relationship akin to that of siblings, of course he’d feel a little perplexed about his best friends dating each other.

that’s probably what it is.

“i’ll take care of her,” suguru says, his gaze fixed on the floor and voice laced with conviction. satoru’s thankful for the reassurance and smiles, leaning back and bumping a fist to geto’s chest.

“i know.”

part 2 in the works ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — KATSUKU BAKUGOU. setting powder.

about. whilst getting ready to meet your new boyfriend’s extended family — you learn that he knows a thing or two about doing makeup.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters aged up to 20s, enemies to lovers, meeting the family, new relationships, brief mention of injury and hospitals, reader wears makeup and dresses, pro hero!bakugou, nurse/doctor!reader.

“we’re gonna be late, sweetheart.”

leaning against the door frame, bakugou crosses his arms over his chest — his perfect lips pulled into a suave smirk as he watches you finish your makeup for tonight.

“wha…huh? you said i had twenty minutes?” you’re still half dressed, your boyfriend’s baggy hoodie from an old merch collection draped over your sweet little dress to protect it from your foundation, your hair is tied back and away from your face so it doesn’t get in the way and though you’re still trying to blend your cream blush in with one of those sponge things — katsuki thinks you’re the most adorable thing in the entire world.

pushing himself off the door frame, he sits behind you on the bed — still watching you work at the vanity whilst he fixes the cuffs of his dress shirt. “that was twenty minutes ago,” the blonde rasps affectionately and grasps your at your jewellery laid out on the bed. the rough pad of his thumb traces over the ‘K’ on the silver heart locket he’d gotten you for your birthday before he undoes the clasp and places the chain around your neck — being mindful of your hair in the process. “y’said you’d be done by then.”

you catch your boyfriend’s vermillion stare in the reflection of your mirror — his subtle smile when he sees his initials dangling from your neck. it feels you with warmth to know that no matter what, katsuki will always find you beautiful and will always love you. even with how chaotic your makeup looks when half done. “i think i spent too long in the shower ‘n underestimated how long this look would take,” you sigh, reaching for your lip gloss next. you’ll have to put it in your purse, so your lips in the car. “do you think they’ll mind if we’re any later than this?”

“my parents won’t. neither will inko. deku — i mean — izuku will, but he’ll pretend he ain’t bothered,” bakugou prattles down the list, making a note of tonight’s attendees. it was tradition that the bakugous and the midoriyas had a monthly dinner together, it had been going on since the two pro heroes were children. only now, their partners were invited since they were family too. family included you.

you hadn’t gone to U.A and you certainly didn’t know katsuki until he became an up and coming pro hero. the first time he’d saved you, by the sidewalk of the hospital you worked at, you thought he was brutish and stuck up. you’d hated him and he’d hated you. but over time, and more frequent trips to A&E after saving civilians or sometimes after being wounded in villain attacks — you’d come to appreciate bakugou’s brooding personality and observant nature.

he’d come to like you too. how much you cared for others and wanted to make the world a better place. you reminded him a little bit of izuku, in a strange way.

so one night when you were on call, katsuki brought you flowers instead of a stomach wound that needed stitches and you’d given him a kiss instead of berating him about being careful, over vanilla and chocolate pudding cups from the hospital cafeteria.

signing impatiently, you bring katsuki back to present day. “i wanted to make a good impression on your aunty and on your best friend,” rubbing your arm nervously, you cast your gaze over the mess on your vanity — expensive products splayed across them in organised chaos.

“you will. they’re gonna love you. they already do,” bakoigou stands behind you now, rough palms smoothing over your shoulders. “izuku says you’ve made me less bitchy at work. whatever the fuck that means.”

you giggle, eyes sparkling in delight as you look at the blonde in the mirror. “really?”

“really,” he nods sheepishly. the way you look at him makes him feel so loved. it’s new to him. nice to him. “now, whaddya need help with s’we can hurry up ‘n hit the road.”

you begin to ramble on, perking up at the idea of katsuki helping with the rest of your routine.“well… i’ve done my lashes, my eyes, my base and blush… i can do lips in the car. aside from putting on earrings and fixing my hair all i need is to set my face with—“

“settin’ powder,” bakugou grabs the little pot from your vanity as if he knew where it was all along, picking up a little face cushion as well as he prepares to get to work. “got it.” he dips the cushion into the translucent powder, rubbing the excess off on the back of his hand before leaning in real close to dab at the areas he thinks you need it. like your t-zone.

your boyfriend’s touch is like magic on your face, perfectly setting your makeup while making you feel like a pampered princess. “who taught you how to do this?” comes your shy mumble, his proximity to your face causing you to grow flustered and squirm in your seat. “h-how are you so good at it?”

“keep still, i’ll be finished faster if y’stop squirmin’ sweetheart. don’t wanna mess up what you’ve done already,” pausing his actions, katsuki gives you a toothy smirk — revelling in how bashful you’ve become under his touch while he helps you with your makeup. “…grew up behind the scenes of fashion shows ‘n shoots. so i picked up a thing or two i wanted to make sure i could still do it so i watched a couple of videos on it too. ‘n i noticed…you always put so much time ‘n effort into your makeup. wanted to help make the process easier for you.”

you feel as though you could melt at katsuki’s kind words and gesture as he dabs at your face a little more — tongue caught between the toes of his pew rlly white teeth as he sticks it out in concentration. he’s so cute it makes you want to scream. “you’re sweet,” you coo appreciatively, stilling yourself to let him finish before he pulls back — satisfied with his work. “i love you.”

it’s not the first time you’ve said it to one another, but the three words are still new to the both of you. “i uh…i love you more,” a pink, rosey hue rises on the surface of bakugou’s tanned skin and his red, loving eyes dart away from your face bashfully. “‘m gonna get your shoes ‘n jacket ready by the door while that sits. don’t forget your settin’ spray after you brush that shit off — oh ‘n don’t take my hoodie off until you’ve done that. don’t wanna ruin your dress, kay?”

“okay,” you respond fondly, hiding your smile at his very specific instructions. “i’ll be down in a minute.”

katsuki nods hesitantly, standing up as he gathers your belongings and outerwear — ready to load them up in the car, when he suddenly pauses in place. “you look beautiful tonight, sweetness. you always do.” he adds as one last parting message, before disappearing down the hall.

leaving you wondering how you ever lucked out with such a man. one who’s not only kind and gentle and loving, but a pro hero and a makeup artist at that.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

daps up the dash before going to sleep on it

why are you so ungreatful? your bakugo fic has 50 notes and thats flopping? thats more than my entire bakugo series has on here. you big blogs are so deluded its crazy fr go check yourself because you sound so bratty and entitled

womp womp cry about it

YES PLEASE AHHHHH THE WAY I NEED HIM IS FERAL.

Shinsou will tell you with a straight face that he doesn’t get jealous but if anyone looks at you for too long he presses a kiss to your neck while making direct eye contact with them

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

You’re the only one allowed to cut Gojo’s hair. You’re the only one he’ll allow that close to his throat with something sharp.

All Might and Katsuki's dynamic to me. Alternate ver. under the cut

proud mentor + rival?? former childhood friend? confidante??

why did my dad send this

should i be concerned

Collar Crimes -> Torn Knuckles

So we’re back with some more mob Geto, this was heavily requested but I never got around to adding more to the series. So to everyone who requested it: ta-da!

Notes: F!reader, yakuza!Geto, casual violence, blood, Geto has tattoos, fluffy, pet names - bunny, reader is a sleepy type of gf & soft girl- think Sanrio/hello kitty aesthetic? Wound care and first aid.

The sound of Geto’s fist connecting with its target echoed through the warehouse. “I don’t take half of anything, I take what belongs to me. This isn’t a negotiation.”

Hiro was a nuisance, interacting with him just wasn’t worth the trouble any longer. The fact that he was called to the warehouse in the first place had him pissed off. The exchange between Hiro and his men was supposed to be a smooth one, yet he was required to handle things himself. Apparently Hiro thought attempting to kill one of his men for leverage was a good idea.

“I’m just asking for 15%, no 20% and I’ll carry out the rest of the deal for you!” Suguru couldn’t deny that he had balls, Hiro was already beaten bloody, missing a few teeth and still trying to negotiate. Shouldn’t the broken ribs be enough to shut him up?

Suguru’s expression and tone screamed danger when he bent to Hiro’s level to get in his face. “You have three seconds to get out of my sight or I’ll kill you. Pull any funny shit again, if you even breathe wrong; I’ll kill you. Don’t mistake my mercy for weakness or tolerance.” His hand was starting to throb from where his fist made contact with the idiot’s face. He sighed and didn’t bother to hide his irritation.

Hiro let out a whimper and scurried away, leaving Geto with Yuta and Choso. “Clean up the blood, I’m going home.” He left no room to argue- not that they’d try.

You had just gotten in the warm tub when you heard Suguru call your name. College was taxing and today was especially rough with your double lecture. Soaking in the giant tub with a bath bomb and bubbles was a good way to relax.

“In here!”

Suguru entered and greeted you with a smile before leaning over to kiss you. “Hi bunny.”

You felt sad upon seeing his hand on the edge of the tub, “You’re hurt?”

“It’s nothin’ to worry about, got room for me in there?” He stripped his suit off and briefly washed his hands despite the sting against his wounds.

You hummed and slid forward to create space, “I’ll take a look at it once we’re done.” He kissed your nape and pulled you back against his chest when he was settled.

“How was my girl’s day? You seem stressed.” It’d be dumb to think he didn’t notice your mood right away. He paid genuine attention to you, your feelings and your needs. Suguru knew you better than anyone. Everyone.

You groaned and leaned your head back to rest on him, “I had my double biology lecture today with my professor that never takes late work. I submitted my paper a minute past midnight the other day and I swear he was glaring at me. It was ONE minute, what difference does it make? He already took five points off automatically for the late submission so why am I getting the stink eye? I’ve already been penalized! He’s a hard grader too, there’s stuff I thought I understood but got wrong on the midterm and now I’m not up to my standard grade.”

The temptation to take care of, in one way or another, the professor giving you trouble was strong, but his absence of teaching would probably stress you out more. “I’m sorry bun, only a few weeks left and you won’t have to worry about him anymore.” Strong arms wrapped around your shoulders for extra comfort.

“It just sucks, I hate being a disappointment.”

“You’re never a disappointment, never. The guy obviously has a stick up his ass and takes it out on his students. You’re such a smarty pants, your grades are excellent. One professor in the grand scheme of things won’t matter.”

You didn’t realize how tired and tense you were until he reassured you. “It’s hard to remember that sometimes, thank you.” You turned your head and kissed him softly.

“Did you eat dinner yet?”

You shook your head and he frowned, it was pretty late and you hadn’t eaten. “Was waiting for you, and I couldn’t decide. I wasn’t too hungry anyway.”

“How about we get something delivered? You need to eat whether I’m home or not, it’s important.”

You curled in on yourself the slightest bit, “I know… I just really miss you sometimes and I like when we eat together. Can we have curry?”

“Curry it is then. C’mon let me get out first.”

Suguru stood up, got out of the tub and dried off before he assisted you and toweled you off himself. Your soft and fluffy robe was held out for you, which he also took the liberty of tying.

“Let me see your hand, your knuckles are all torn up.” Your face clearly showed your concern. He loved that about you, how you had your heart on your sleeve.

It only took a few minutes, but you took care in applying ointment and wrapping his knuckles so they would heal. You finished your job with a kiss over his hand and he’d never admit it but the action made him blush. He had no choice but to hug you immediately in thanks so you wouldn’t notice.

(You noticed. You thought it was cute.)

“Thank you bunny, you’re always a great little nurse. So, curry?”

“Yes please.” You nodded your head and followed him into the living room.

He called you the nurse but in your eyes, he took care of you way better than you could take care of him.

Prev <- Index -> •

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open!

will i always be this angry?

My 14 year old brother just took a drink of hot chocolate and hissed like he'd knocked back a shot of vodka then set it down and went "ah... that's the good stuff."

Bottoms will always get shocked when they agree to let me play feral and then I ACTUALLY play feral…like babe why’d you say you agree and then you get surprised when I’ve pinned you to the floor, absolutely growling in your cunt. Licking my chops after I’ve eaten you out, only to stuff you full doggy style, whining and panting against you as I rut into you harder. Biting your shoulders and clawing into your hips, your love handles, your belly, your ass, anything I can grab to shove myself deeper. I love love loveeee being a desperate little mutt who just NEEDS to breed pls be prepared what you’re in for when you agree. 💖🐶🐾💖

HAPPY VALENTINES YALL ❤️

big bro toshi yes yes .. I feel like he'll bring his friends whenever daddy aizawa isn't home to show off his pretty sister 😵‍💫

i feel like he’d only get away with it once without explicit permission bc yan dad bf aizawa is invasive and incredibly controlling with all those cameras and whatnot but

i don’t disagree. he’d probably bring izu, fumi, denki, and eijiro (or hanta). i’m leaning towards eijiro bc just watching him rail someone smaller than him is an experience in itself and i’ll leave it at that.

but yeah. toshi gets you all dressed up for them before they get there. (read: it’s all frilly little girl stuff that makes you wish they couldn’t see you at all. if he’s feeling mean, probably a diaper or a pull-up just to make you feel more embarrassed.) he watches them strip you piece by piece once you give them the go ahead.… hitoshi doesn’t get off on you being scared, i don’t think, but he does enjoy seeing you humiliated for how excited you are.

and gosh, they’re so messy, the lot of them. shinso’s probably the cleanest. fumi doesn’t mind covering your face or your tits or something. but the other three? they have filthy sex. sweat, spit, cum, all of it. they leave you so debauched, it’s picture worthy. and they’re so teasing and mean, i can’t see them not doing that in such a situation.

cw: minors dni. smut. first time sex. literal breeding. sci-fi themed. female body parts for reader. izuku is bigger than reader. size kink if you squint.

The dynamics of the world as you knew it thousands of years ago are now gone, and ever since you awoke from cryogenic slumber just 24 hours ago, the next phase of humanity’s plan to continue to exist and expand through the stars is now in progress.

Repopulation.

The new Earth substitute you inhabit is practically devoid of humans and will need bodies, at least until enough of you can build robots to replace your physical labor. There are fifty of you in total, of reproductive age and of peak physical, intellectual and emotional ability (aggregate, with some compartments allowed to be lower than others), and you are assigned to partners based on your compatibility.

They call you terraforming partners. It’s a euphemism for mate. Your only job is to breed.

There are of course other departments to work in the colonizing efforts. Some of the selected fifty have double appointments in the repopulation department and in research and development, others in art and communications, still others in nutrition. You failed to select a secondary appointment prior to your assignment to this planet, and thus have the appointment of Propagator-09A.

It is time to meet your mate. Taking in a deep breath, you leave your quarters, housed in one of two L-shaped buildings surrounding the Nexus or central headquarters, and walk straight down the hall of the dorm building into the designated repopulation centers. These are where you will perform your duties.

The two of you will enter a dome-shaped building from opposite ends of the room. You’re not sure who awaits you on the opposite end of the door, just that they are sexually compatible with you, and pass other measures of compatibility based on a predetermined algorithm. This algorithm is not meant for love, not meant for marriage, just sex and reproduction. Will you two produce at least two minimum viable human children that can be turned over to the administration to be raised? That’s all that is asked of you, and that is what you are contracted to do -

... regardless of who will show up in the next few minutes.

The watch on your wrist monitors your heart rate and everything other than it, and it is starting to beep in concern of your rising heart rate. You suck air into your lungs and let it blow out of your nose. 

Mates are not allowed to hurt you. They are to watch for your comfort, as you are to watch for theirs, they are to stop if you’re not ready, and you are allowed to leave at any time. They are meant to fit you perfectly, and you were specific enough in your application to explain how you liked to be held and pleased.

This will be okay, you tell yourself. It will all be okay.

The door slides upwards into the apex of the dome, and you step into your new home away from home, at presumably the same time as your mate. Marching straight into the center of the room, your eyes lowered to the ground to steady yourself, you don’t notice that the man on the opposite end has not yet begun to move, and when you look up finally once you’ve reached the center, you see him for the very first time, and his cheeks are tinted with the deepest of blushes.

The young man’s lips are parted wide, his hands balled into loose fists at his side as if he didn’t know what to do with them. Immediately, you recognize him from the debriefing session just prior to the cryogenic freezing and the young man - tall, handsome, far too talkative with a voice gentler than expected for a man of his stature but in keeping with his softened but still masculine facial features - seems to hang in the frame of the door, transfixed. Not one word comes out of his mouth. You notice the top of his head, covered in mossy green curls, just barely grazes the top of the door, remembering that the domes have much lower ceilings than the buildings back home.

“Hi,” you eke out, then quickly add, “watch your head.”

Your voice is smaller than usual as you offer him a slightly nervous, strained smile, and he looks as though a shock runs through his body as you speak to him, bumping his head anyway as he walks in despite your warning. You raise your eyebrows, and he laughs just as nervously before meeting up to you.

Standing just inches apart, he scratches his neck, and the pink beneath his freckles still hasn’t abated, but at least now he can talk.

“Sorry about that haha, I’m… I just didn’t realize you’d be so pretty.”

Your own face deeply warms at those words. He’s easy on the eyes too, and you’re thankful for it, but he doesn’t need to charm you as easily as he does. 

Shy yourself, you’re at a loss for words to reply, even thank you failing to be generated. He notices the silence, and quickly fills in the space.

“I’m Izuku. Izuku Midoriya… uh, your terraforming partner. Nice to meet you.”

His hand stretches out to shake yours, and you shake it. It’s larger, warm, and heavily calloused. You wonder what type of work he does, before the mission or now that he’s on this planet with you. With those broad shoulders and impressive biceps of his, you figure it could be something manual, but he’s always sounded quite intelligent so perhaps the muscles are more for show.

“Nice to meet you too. I’m ___.”

As if on cue, once you’ve introduced yourselves, the doors slide down behind the both of you, closing you in. There’s a loud click, and then the pod announces that it’s moving underground, and you steady yourself as gravity shifts. Your partner’s hands extend reflexively to hold you to prevent you from falling, but he’s careful not to touch you unless the motion is invited.

The pod settles onto solid ground again.

The space isn’t small, but it’s not large either, and while it’s mostly monotone, a smattering of whites and beiges and glass, many of the surfaces are soft and plush. A large, round bed with many pillows, a glass panel that doubles both as a window and a screen is across from it. When you try the window, you realize your pod hasn’t moved completely underground, and you can still see the suns’ rays in the afternoon. You’d heard that the pods are set up this way for insulation. For heat, and for… sound.

You look towards Izuku again. His back is turned from you and he’s looking around the pod as well, examining every corner and crevice, his fingers rubbing his chin as he thinks. He’s a caricature of a thoughtful person, you think, soon distracted by the way his shirt hangs over the muscles of his back. He stretches for a moment, and you see the muscles flex under the thin fabric. Something stirs in your chest, then you look away quickly, deciding to search through the closets.

These algorithms hit the nail on the head when it comes to your type, you hate to admit.

Poring through the closets and drawers reveals all manners of lingerie and loungewear, as well as a few very specific costumes that seem to be for roleplay. Your face warms as you see a set of angel wings, and a bunny leotard, then you glance at him, wondering if these are the types of things he’s into. When you see the gladiator suit hung neatly right next to it, you can feel your blood run cold. 

Yes, it’s what you’re into.

There’s a fridge in the center of the room with protein drinks, meal replacement shakes, fresh fruit, wine, chocolate and other sweets, as well as a call button for meals. Cutlery and dishes find themselves in another drawer, along with a small table spread and two chairs that appear at the click of a button in the wall. A makeshift fireplace. 

Anything to set the mood.

Pornography in abundance. Dirty comics. You and Izuku both stare in awe at the sheer collection of spank material, then look at each other, and can’t help but laugh.

They really prepared for everything.

By the time you’ve looked at everything, your stomachs are growling. You share a meal together in polite conversation, which turns into friendly banter, laughter, and then soon, back into pregnant silence as you realize the sun is setting, and you remember there not on a date, not to become friends but for a purpose. 

The ability to delay the inevitable is now being lost, and eventually you’re both acutely aware of the body that occupies the same space. Izuku looks up at you, clears the plate before him, and broaches the subject first.

“Have you ever-”

“Yes,” you lie.

“Oh.”

He looks down for a second, then looks up at you. You wonder if he’s disappointed, but soon he adds, “I’m sorry if I can’t meet up to expectations but I’m willing to learn how to make you feel good.”

Your stomach twists for a moment, but you offer a smile. He looks sincere, no waver in those bright, green eyes, and it warms you. The two of you clear away the dishes soon, and Izuku tells you he’ll be careful with your body, once clothing has been stripped away, and the two of you are bare and facing each other.

You don’t know what that will entail before he touches you, but the inevitable attraction you have towards him, the magnetic draw that he has to your body, informs you soon. Your lips meet, you on your tip-toes, and his arms reaching carefully around his waist. The first kiss is reticent, soft and anxious, the second is hungry, the third is greedy. His tongue tastes everything your mouth has to offer, yours fights to get its share as well. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, as your chest presses against his. Your hearts beat in time with each other. Thump, thump.

Izuku’s skin smells like spring water and freshly cut grass, and is soft and warm to the touch; his weight against yours is a comfort you’ve needed your whole life. His breath against your skin, soft kisses along your collarbone, between your breasts, over your lower belly, and finally culminating with his mouth laying over your clit makes your body buzz. He whispers something about reading that you cumming first will make you accept him better, but the way he eats you out hungrily makes you think that it’s less tactical and more for the pleasure of it. He’s good with his fingers, too, thick and deep in your crevices, gentle but purposeful. 

The act of copulation can be such a solemn, resolute affair, but for you two it’s a new dance, where your bodies open up to each other in concert. Your bodies press and join together, your mouths each swallowing the other’s gasps as he enters you, as you take all of him in. You feel like heaven, he feels like paradise; the ebb and flow between you is perfect, unending. The sun sets without your notice because all you can see is each other.

Unconquered territory is discovered inch by inch, from inside out. Izuku makes your toes curl, your heart skip several beats as you cry out his name, even if you’ve just learned it moments ago. It’s a job, but the pleasure seems almost sinfully indulgent.

And you’re both extremely hard workers by nature. 

Breathless by the time he’s filled you to the brim, you have to remind each other that you don’t have to be pregnant at this very moment. He pulls out of you reluctantly, and your body tries to hold onto him, but all good things must come to an end, even if temporarily.

“Are you okay?” he whispers over your knees. 

You’re better than okay, full of affection and hope, flooded in hormones. You nod, Izuku offers a kiss to both your kneecaps as he applies just enough pressure with a forearm to keep your folded position. Parts of his semen slips out of you and he asks you if he can, and when you nod, cheeks warm and breathing steady, pushes the slippery substance back into your body with two fingers. 

A timer goes off and he sighs, laying down beside you.

“Testing is at the end of the week,” he muses. He’s staring at the ceiling. You want to reach over to him, but it feels too intimate for a first meeting, even if he’s been in your guts, even if he’s planting himself forever into you.

“Yeah.”

“I think we can do it,” he adds. Your worn out body warms, wanting more already. 

It’s just a job, you remind yourself. It’s work, not play. Duty, not love.

“Me too.”

Izuku turns to look at you, and he’s so earnest and sweet, you can practically imagine you are lovers, instead of biologically matched mates, and that rather than this transient mission, you’ll be together for the rest of your lives.

thinkin abt shoto and his alt girl. you know, the one who turns his world upside down, their lives so different yet paralleled. he was the only one in his life who wasn’t surprised when he fell head over heels for the girl with piercings and ripped jeans instead of floral perfume and tight pencil skirts.

shoto and his alt girl who doesn’t care about money or social status; she says it’s hard to care about things she’s never had much of. she isn’t enamored by his hero ranking or the people he’s surrounded by. she’s most enamored by him - pretty, strong, and kind - every bit the hero the media makes him out to be and more.

shoto and his alt girl whose face is rarely done up, and he loves her that way. he thinks she’s beautiful every day of the week; her makeup doesn’t change that, and she knows it. most days, she’d rather spend her mornings in messy braids and worn out band tees, drinking coffee next to him than on dolling herself up only to wipe it off later. shoto’s alt girl who sometimes does a little bit for him anyways because she sees the way he stares at her eyes, how he drinks in the bold lip colors that adorn her smile when she’s up for it.

shoto who listens to his alt girl ramble about the things she really cares for as he runs his fingers through her hair, whether it’s romance novels or video games, or perhaps something deeper in herself. he carefully laces up her worn out sneakers and leather boots, plays with the fraying of her jeans and the hem of her skirts when she lets him, runs his fingers along the smoothness of her tights. shoto who loves her thigh highs and short dresses because he knows they’re just for him. he helps her with those pesky fishnets so he can stare at her thighs and leave a trail of kisses behind.

shoto’s alt girl who doesn’t care what the media wants her to be - she’s unapologetically herself, and he loves that about her. even when the world tells her to be less of this and more of that, it’s rare that she truly gives in. he sees the sides of her no one else does - the soft, gentle parts she’s not always quick to show. the world doesn’t hear the way she cries out his name when he holds her close at night. they don’t see the way she clings to his frame, digs her nails into his back, turns to putty in his hands with a few tender words. they don’t know the way she loves him, wholly and completely, imperfect though he may be.

just shoto and his alt girl, the one he swears he’ll never let go of… and proves it every day for the rest of his life.

inspired by izu’s alt girl by @dcsiremc