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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

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go the distance

(will you) go the distance

— You’re perfectly content in life except for the fact that you are not dating Deku. When his best friend won’t help you out, you turn to the dark side to get what you want.

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pairing: pro hero!midoriya izuku x bad villain!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, manga spoilers, pro hero!au, villain!reader, ofa usage for sex lol, size difference, manhandling, public sex, slight degradation and praise, deku eats his cum outta ya pussy, big dick deku, corruption but make it opposite, deku is a pervert change my mind

word count: 12,715

a/n: well, yall already knew I wanted to make this fic a reality, so here it is for bnharems villain collab!! check out all the already amazing stories if you haven’t already. thank you to kara, sky, and jo for reading this for me because lmao im ass rn. I’m gonna go to bed because I partied a bit too hard last night.

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your quirk: distortion – can make afflicted persons vision shift 6 cm to the left or right at the cost of having their own vision shift the same way

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“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcasted rumors of a villain running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures, and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning.

“Road maintenance endeavors to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

“Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

“Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved, but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city, please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”

The female reporter closes her eyes, despite still being on the air, her eyebrows furrowed as she exasperatedly sighs.

“Was that good enough, Mirage?”

You look at her with a pout, your eyes then clenching shut as your lips move with unsaid words as you motion for the cameras to stop rolling. You tilt your head right and left, muttering a bit.

“Did that seem better to you this time? I don’t know, I don’t think it was scary enough...”

You open your eyes to see the exasperated reporter looking at you as if she personally sought to end you right where you were sitting.

“You are the worst villain I’ve ever encountered,” she deadpans, and you laugh in agreement.

You weren’t really a villain.

If you must put a label on what you were, you would say that you were the best PR head any hero agency could ask for. You were, after all, the top student graduate from UA’s Business Course and had been ushered into a condensed agency the moment you were finished taking your graduation pictures.

And well, if you are actually curious about the… villainy, you would like to uphold and continue to stress that you weren’t a villain! You were just a public nuisance – like those stupid YouTubers – with the ability to garner Pro Heroes’ attention! People had no reason to scoff at what you did on the daily.

You took both of these jobs very seriously!

It was like being straight out of a comic for you!

A simple – hopefully should the heroes you’re in charge of not be stupid – nine to five job by day, and a badass, crime-committing, sexy as shit villain by night! How could anyone ever hate you for your lifestyle! How could anyone ever hate you?!

But we are all noisy people, and everyone wondered just why you became a villain because you had a beautifully stable job with an impressive salary! Why would such an amazing woman such as yourself dabble in the evilness of humanity?

Well, you did have an answer for the public.

“Why do you engage in evil, villainous schemes?” the reporter deadpans, absolutely and utterly not being paid enough to humor you in this forced interview.

The public loved drama, pizazz, a little showmanship even from what they deemed humanities worst! So, you told the world why you chose to be evil instead of good:

“Because I want to be!” you grin, flashing a pose as you make your away from the interviewer you had very much illegally forced to interview you. “And because a hero killed my cat!’

Of course, that was a lie! Why would you ever hand over the real reason as to why you decided to become a villain! You’d be laughed right out of Japan, possibly be murdered by a horde of fangirls!

For you see, there was one reason and one reason alone as to why you decided to take your place within the villainy hall of fame. Why you chose to do more in your day outside of your already demanding job.

And that one reason was: Pro Hero Deku, civilian name Midoriya Izuku.

Now, trying not to come off as some creepy, weirdo, stalker fangirl, you could fully admit that you were in love with the stupidly large hunk of a man that debuted as an official pro a year before you graduated from high school.

You remember how the world was finally recovering from the year-long nightmare that had ensued. To be honest, you were stupidly surprised you had even managed to graduate, given that most of schooling had become somewhat of a joke.

FIVE YEARS AGO, MARCH, 2XXX:

It had been in the evening, the clear blue sky becoming ruby red and blood orange as you made your way out of campus. The air somehow smelled of sweet hay and gasoline, but you didn’t mind. There was hardly anyone out at this time, most students had made their way home already, and the only sounds were the moving cars of businessmen just trying to get back home.

There really wasn’t any reason to suspect anything to go wrong, this was a simple daily walk back home after school that wasn’t like any other. But then there had been a loud pop, an ever louder screech, and finally, you managed to whip your head in time to see a car tumbling through the air straight at you.

There was hardly any time to think, even less to react, and the only thing you knew was that you were not going to survive.

You braced yourself, eyes clenching and body curling, your mind screaming because this was not going to be the way things ended. But before it could happen, before the car could come down upon you and squish you like a bug under a shoe, something picked you up and you were weightless.

Waiting for an impact that never came, the tears that were endlessly streaming down your face were suddenly stopped by rough, warm fingers smoothly wiping them away.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re safe now!” a voice says softly to you, endearingly warm and comforting. “I’m here, don’t worry.”

“Am I… did I die?” you whisper, unsure if you even want the answer, your eyes remaining closed because you refused to open them up to some angel that could confirm your death. “God, what an embarrassing way to die!”

“Oh – um, no! You’re not dead! I promise!” the voice laughs brightly, just softly enough that you believe him and not be entirely horrified by the amused reaction. Your eyes crack open slowly, just barely peering back into the world, still half praying you weren’t dead. But all you saw was green.

Green eyes, green hair, green clothes.

You blink, once, twice, realizing only then you were staring into the eyes of a boy about your age.

He had curly hair, freckles littering his face, and eyes that easily pierced through your very soul.

Without meaning to, your breath stopped, frozen in your lungs as you were captivated by a handsome man with a curving, beautiful smile.

“See, I told you it was okay!” he teased you, head cocking to the side as he grinned largely.

The action itself seemed to strangle the strangest noise out of your mouth as you realized suddenly and immediately that your face was burning and all you could think was:

A cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, acuteherorescuedme!

“Sorry about that scare! I would’ve caught that car sooner, but I wasn’t paying attention to who was around!” the green boy apologized, bowing deeply in front of you in his apology. “There’s a commotion just up ahead, so I recommend you take the next road over.”

You nod numbly, unable to conjure even the slightest hint of your voice again as he stood up to his full length. He was average in height it seemed, taller than you, but still not towering. The hero looked behind his shoulder, those big green eyes focusing onto the distance, onto something you couldn’t even begin to imagine – or see, really. He blinked and turned back to you, smile gone but the gentle aura to him remained, but now his face, his mouth, was underlined with a sense of urgency and engagement to whatever sent a vehicle tumbling your way.

“Which train do you take home?” he asked, eyebrows relaxing from his stern position, as his smile picked up again. “I’ll take you closer to your station!”

“B train,” you manage to wheeze out – unable to be the reason why he was held up but also confused as to just what he could do to get you closer to the station that was at least a mile away from here.

“Perfect! I know where that is!” he laughs for just a moment, and before you could even ask if this was going to be some escorted thing – because you definitely did not need it – his arms were fastly secured around you, and suddenly you were weightless.

A cold wind rushed against your face, nipping at your nose, cheeks, and ears, sending your hair flying around – into your mouth! Oh, you were screaming! You were soaring through the skyline, being held by some hero you couldn’t name, and you were screeching at the top of your lungs.

Making the mistake of looking down, your arms were suddenly around his shoulders, your voice growing even sharper and louder as you squeezed against his body and refused to let go. His hands, despite the gloves, were warm on your back, and his soft chuckle warming you from nose to toes as he secured his grip on you.

“I got you,” he spoke, “I won’t let you go, I promise.”

Those words don’t exactly ease you, but there’s a comfort to the genuinity to his words. You nod nonetheless, your face buried deep into his neck. The cold wind continues to whip around you, the only thing sounding in your ears is the cruel whipping wind and quiet city below.

“I’m landing now,” he informed you, body shifting in the wind, and reflexively, you clung even tighter to him, expecting the similar stomach dropping motion of a roller coaster going straight down. “You’re – ack – c-choking me!”

The knowledge of that, hearing the strain and entirely unhidden sound of him choking against the current chokehold you had on him, you released him entirely with a shriek of your own. Was it a smart move? No, definitely not because you were how many hundreds – if not thousands – of feet in the air with a quirk that could not, and would not save you.

“It’s okay! I’m fine!” he quickly said, his arms shifting around your waist as you felt your body weight drop just the smallest bit. To which your focus landed to the concrete floor so far down, and you began screaming again. He panicked just a bit too. “Y-You’re okay too! We’re landing! We’re landing!”

Soon, but not soon enough, the concrete floor came underneath your feet, and you practically felt your knees buckle underneath you. The train station behind you was practically invisible, and you felt the floor come in contact with your knees, and you collapsed onto your hands and knees. You could feel the tears streaming down your face as you wheezed and panted, unable to move from your position.

“Hey, look, we made it!” he laughed gently, probably being said in hopes that you would feel better. (It did make you feel slightly better, his laugh was light and pretty to listen to.) You could feel him approaching you, iron covered red shoes appearing before your vision. Looking up, you saw that the young hero was crouching, his face holding a wobbly smile that was earnest, worried, and full of unspoken hope. “I do need to get back, but before I do, are you good enough to be left alone?”

You blinked your soaked eyelashes at him, still largely unable to say anything at the cute hero in front of you who had a few scratches on his cheek, right below his freckles.

“Y-Yeah, um,” you say, your tongue cotten and lead in your dry mouth. “I-I’ll be fine, I think.”

The green eyed hero nods, offering you a hand and assisting you to your trembling legs, “That’s good to hear!” he chirped, his wobbly smile becoming a grand, bright grin. “You were really brave! I was impressed!”

Now, you were an idiot at times, but even you could spot a stupid lie. Still, hearing it said with such honesty, as if this hero who was no taller than five foot eight truly believed it, made something bubble in your chest, and soon you found yourself laughing.

“No need to lie to me, h-hero,” you manage to speak between stammering breaths, “thank you for saving me, though. I appreciate it.”

You grin crookedly at him, and to your utter delight, he reciprocates it.

“It’s the least I can do. I’d offer to take you home but… I’m not quite finished yet,” he says, and you can only nod, the conversation obviously reaching its last strides. You watch as he floats up, his eyes looking at you, but somehow focused how many miles away from where he had brought you from. “Stay safe?”

“I’ll try my best,” you agree to his question, hands clasping before your lap. “Finish the job quick, hero?”

He grins, “I’ll try my best.”

You feel a breathless sort of laugh escape you as you watch him beginning to shoot back up, but a sort of horror shoots through you as you rush forward, running right after him, hands cupping around your mouth as you scream:

“What’s your name?!”

The blur of green in the air freezes, and you stop running as you see green eyes and freckles focusing back onto you.

“Deku! My hero name is Deku!”

You stop at the curb of the street, eyes focused on the sky as the green eyed hero named Deku grins one last time before shooting off at a speed probably much faster than when he held onto you. The wind blows around you, and you can only feel the heat sitting on your cheeks and the way you’re smiling as you stare after his figure that's long, long gone.

“Deku...” you whisper to yourself, ignorant to the world of commuters beginning to appear at the station. “Thank you.”

And thus came the very apparent and obvious day in which you fell head over heels for Pro Hero Deku.

Now some people called you a stupid fangirl, obsessive stalker, and sometimes, yeah, you were obsessive and weird about your slight infatuation with a stranger. It was strange, you knew that! But you also knew that you had practically no chances of ever being able to woe the man behind the image of Deku because Midoriya Izuku practically existed as Deku 24/7.

After you graduated from high school, you were put into the same agency that was currently holding Deku. Without tooting your own rom-com obsessed horn too much, you fully expected to walk in and be handed Deku’s file as his PR manager and be able to thank him for not only saving you all that time ago, but also eventually sweep him off his feet.

But your reputation preceded you well, probably too well, because the first day you entered the office and was handed your list of three clients to work with, neither one was for Deku. Being a PR manager for heroes was hard, a job that practically held no set hours because, unlike your typical celebrities, heroes had no type of privacy or protection. They were constantly under the spotlight, being viewed by adoring fans and scornful critics. Your job served as the first line of defense for heroes against the public, and there were some heroes that were quite hilariously easy to work for because they were genuinely good.

The older PR managers typically held the quieter, easy tempered, or less combat heavy heroes. These heroes typically never had a bad thing said about them, their job was a glorified PA job but even less because there was no expected demands from the heroes they had to take in. Unless, of course, a hero wanted to do some sort of public event they hadn’t considered.

But there were the louder, quick to temper, or the heavy combat heroes that while made you an insane amount of money, also brought you a near 120 hour work week because there was so much to do, so much to consider, so much to keep your eyes on. There was the constant slander, the people who hated the louder, quick to temper heroes because they didn’t like their attitude, completely disregarding that they had been unsafe and a liability the entire time the hero was dealing with them. The talk shows that took months to convince to allow for an interview because they heard false rumors, and so you have to practically wrestle a boa constrictor to get a measly five minute interview done. And then the combat-heavy heroes… no one would ever shut up about building damages and how this hero broke his nose while he was stealing a store!

Not to mention having to have every single piece of social media on your phone, set to notify you whenever your clients names were brought up so that you could look at it. You’ve seen more than enough lewd drawings of your clients to last you a lifetime, enough fanfiction, and fan edits that left you with blazing cheeks and the need to never look at your client ever again. But mostly you checked each and every update because you were their first and only line of legal defense on these sorts of things.

You’ve taken down leaked nudes, fake news, and qualmed rumors and speculations.

It was hard.

So when you were shown to your desk on your first day and three files were handed to you, you were shocked to see the hero names you would be working with.

Dynamight

Phantom Thief

Shouto

Somehow, without having yet to speak with a single one of your now current clients, you knew that you were going to have your work cut out for you.

“Good luck newbie!” the woman who gave you the initial tour chirped, clapping you on the back. “You got this!”

Good lord.

Without much to do other than reading through the three’s files, you realized that you already knew a bunch about two of three of your clients. DynaMight and Shouto were two heroes that you knew teamed up with and hung out with Deku a lot, both on-field and off-field if any of the out of costume pictures said anything. Because of their connection with Deku, you had at one point learned a bit about them.

You knew that Shouto was a crowd favorite. He was tall and sweet and a complete airhead at the best moments despite him being smart. Controversy still surrounded his character, despite all the good he did, because of the past history that was brought out about his father Endeavor and his brother Dabi. The country couldn’t figure out where they stood in terms of that reveal. Endeavor did a lot before the reveal, and continued to rise up to everything in his path despite the skeletons in his closet being thrown out for the world to see. They neither forgave him, nor hated him, they only watched and waited. Then Dabi, of course, was seen as a could-have-been version of Shouto, and many tried to ask if he was really a hero and not actually siding with the League. After all, why on Earth would he be defensive of his father too?

The public had an unmoving image of Shouto based on anything but who he was as an individual, and you decided immediately that it would be your job to fix that. He was also, after all, a dear friend of Deku, so you’d do anything.

Phantom Thief was your easiest of the three clients. A relatively well mannered man who was kind and a bit weird in a fun way. He had a great sense of self and was a reliable person on the field. He made a great hero, but you could see the way his spirit blazed with an unspoken rivalry between him and the other two of your clients. Well, it seemed like he was the best until his former self appointed rivals came into the picture, but that was hardly ever, and according to Shouto, he was way worse back in their first year.

The greatest scandal he’s had so far in your three years of working at their agency was the one time he was lied to about a quirk and accidentally copied a woman's quirk that gave her the ability to change her cup size. Safe to say that Phantom Thief accidentally broke a few buttons on his shirt and was unable to stop civilians from snapping pictures.

But of course, the one that had you practically crying yourself to sleep nightly for more than one reason was Dynamight.

You’d known about him the moment you looked up Deku on your phone.

They were practically a hero duo in everything but name. They were always seen doing the same things together, whether that be on patrol together or maybe getting dinner, most of their top recorded fights were done with each other by their sides. You had also learned that they were childhood friends, and you practically vibrated at the thought that even though Deku was not your client, the chances of meeting him were still astronomically high.

There was no way you wouldn’t not meet Deku!

But you were wrong, so very, very wrong.

Turns out the hero duo in everything but name meant that Dynamight refused to let Deku be anywhere near him in the agency – the very small amount of time they spent in here. The few times they were in the same room, Dynamight absolutely refused to be interrupted because that was their paperwork hour. You had only ever been blessed with seeing green curls turning the corner as Dynamight gripped your forearm, refusing to let you follow.

“Like hell I’ll let you distract the shitnerd,” he stated simply, his red eyes narrowed as he stared down his nose at you. You opened your mouth, ready to defend your not so innocent intentions. “I’m not stupid, so don’t pretend like you won’t try anything.”

Your jaw snapped shut.

Safe to say that you couldn’t do anything about Deku so long as Dynamight was around.

But Dynamight as a client was exhausting to put it kindly.

There were so many opinions and thoughts and issues and praises coming from everywhere. Hell, even the fucking Americans and westerners had caught wind of the Wonder Duo at one point and while you were well knowledgable on their opinions on Deku, the ones on Dynamight were the ones that you had to focus on now.

People still called him a villain, so many unhappy with the fact that he still screamed and cursed and threatened. There were many conspiracy theories that he was working with the long dead League of Villains. They turned their nose up at the fact that he was childhood friends with Deku, claiming that no way an asshole like him could have ever been friends with him. And of course the bullying revelation that had come out shortly after your debut.

That had been a trip, one that had you even shocked as Dynamight approached the table in front of the media, his body calm and composed. You had watched as he simply said he owed nothing to the media, that he had already done all that he could to deserve his atonement and deserve Deku’s forgiveness. He had spoken clearly, concisely that it wasn’t any of their damn business as to what he did, and if he apologized to them, the unaffected, the ones that had nothing to do with his early years of bullying Deku, of his previous weakness and insecurity, it would be a waste of his breath.

It isn’t to them he should ever be apologizing to anyways.

You had watched as he stood up, face calm, and hands shoved into his pockets as he stood and walked away despite the screaming reporters. You had wanted to stay longer, have your own hand in damage control, but a swoop of green came in and Deku was at the microphone eyebrows furrowed as he pointed a finger at them all and said that his past with Kacchan was between him and Kacchan only, and his decision to forgive Kacchan were his and only his.

You didn’t hear the rest, didn’t even get the option to hear the way the hero you loved defended the hero you worked for – his childhood friend.

No.

Dynamight had grabbed your elbow and dragged you out of the room with him, the metal doors clanging closed the moment fierce green eyes met yours.

You watched in the company car as Dynamight looked outside the window, one elbow on the doorframe holding his chin; his gaze focused sharply on nothing but the passing sidewalk. Had it not been for the way the hand on top of his lap trembled, you would have thought he was perfectly okay.

Neither one of you talked about that again.

But just because you didn’t talk about it again, didn’t mean the world was the same. People claimed he brainwashed Deku, others demanded that Deku beat the shit out of Dynamight. You knew that Dynamight would want nothing to do with this, but you would stay in the office (an almost useless, empty office as most PR managers did their business at home) for hours long after you were supposed to be gone, practically arguing with someone who only existed behind a screen and didn’t even care that much – but you couldn’t stop.

Seeing Dynamight’s shaking hand had really done a number on you.

“The hell are you still doing here, eyelashes,” Dynamite asked from the dark entrance of the floor. “Go home already, don’t waste your time.”

You had startled at the initial intrusion, but you immediately relaxed seeing the smudged paint around red eyes and blond hair. You barely kept your gaze on him before turning back to your computer and continuing your argument.

“I’m not wasting my time, I’m doing my job,” you remark, eyes squinting at your keyboard because your vision is definitely blurry. “I’ll be heading out soon anyways.”

“God you’re fucking annoying and stubborn!” Dynamight barked, the heel of his hand slamming into his forehead. “This is exactly why I won’t introduce you to the fucking nerd!”

“What?!” you shriek, suddenly looking at your client as if he had personally attacked you – and in a way he did. “What do you mean you won’t introduce me to Deku because of that?! I’ve already met Red Riot, Chargebolt, Cellophane, and Pinky through you!”

“Yeah, because they’re not stubborn idiots too!” Dynamight accuses, jamming a gloved finger at you as he begins stomping your way. You startle, your chair shooting backward as the explosion hero makes his way towards you at alarming speed.

“What are you—?!” you shriek, hands flailing about as he grabs you by the collar of your distressed shirt.

Dynamight lifts you up to your feet as if you were a sack of flour and you grasp onto his forearm.

“I might tell you that you’re the most annoying and stubborn bitch in the world, but you’re not worse than fucking Deku,” Dynamight sneers, his red eyes narrowed and stern. “I’m not going to let you meet him until you learn how to give or you’ll hurt him, and I’m not going to be part of any reason as to why he gets hurt again.”

Your jaw dropped, clearly offended, but you closed it just as fast; the weight of his words made you a bit sad, even for just a bit.

“You’re kinda cute when you care for Deku, you sure I’m his biggest fan?” you tease, grinning at the hero to which he rolls his eyes.

“Shut the hell up and go home already; it’s annoying seeing you fight a losing battle that’s none of your damn business,” Dynamight simply said, putting you back onto your feet and blocking out your desk.

“I’ll go home on the condition that for my birthday you at least consider introducing us!” you say, unwilling to move from your spot. “I’ve been working for you for three years! You’ve kept me away for three years!”

Dynamight’s stare didn’t even shift the slightest millimeter, his red eyes unamused as you groaned in grief and annoyance.

“I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself?!” you grumble snatching your jacket and purse from the hook on your cubicle and shoving them on. “My names God of Explosion Murder: Dynamight and I am Stubborn™ but will never admit it.”

You continued mocking your long time client and most definitely friend if you dared to say so, and dragged the heel of your foot all the way to the elevator to which you were joined by Dynamight. The trip down the elevator is silent, and you keep your gaze locked on the closed doors, unwilling to even look at the hero next to you.

Soon enough, the elevator reached the ground floor, and you got ready to walk out.

“I’ll consider it,” Dynamight said as the elevator doors opened. “Also, fucking stop calling me Dynamight, Bakugou’s fine.”

He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants.

“Thank you, Bakugou!” you shriek, your lungs failing you at the thought of finally being introduced to Deku! You hadn’t moved from your spot from the elevator, your chest hammering with the thought of getting to meet Deku.

“Don’t get your hopes up, you’re still irritatingly stubborn,” Bakugou merely calls over his shoulder before lifting his hand in a halfhearted wave before stepping out of the glass door.

That brought you back to reality just a bit and you scowled, knowing you would have to go beyond and above to prove that.

But you see, there were many reasons to cry about having Bakugou as your client. Besides the stinkhole of his previous bullying, people just were not understanding his typically prickly exterior. You had to go head to head with reputation tarnished, had to slap fangirls away who demanded that Bakugou degrade them where they stood. It was hard to not be stubborn as not only his PR manager but his friend, and in less than a month, still plenty of time before your birthday, you had already grown irritated of the meeting-Deku-card he waved over your head.

“Mei, if I have to go any longer than this, I will die and hope I am reborn as Deku’s new guardian angel,” you pouted, chin pressed against a cold metal tabletop. Your hands being used as glove models for one of your best friends Hatsume Mei. “It’s first of all impossible getting anywhere near him with his guard dog Bakugou literally stopping me whenever I’m within a ten foot radius! And then I’m not even sure what will happen when we do meet again! Would I even be able to talk to him?!”

“Why wouldn’t you? You talk to all my babies with me! There’s practically nothing you can’t do,” Mei laughs, smacking you against your back before returning her intense gaze back to the gloves. “Deku’s uh… I actually can’t remember him but I’m sure he’s a great conversationalist! I think he helped me with the Sports Festival my first year.”

“That was Iida,” you laugh, wiggling your fingers as Mei demanded. “You’re so bad with names and faces, I’m impressed you know mine.”

“You saved my baby, of course I remember you,” Mei turned her grin towards you, “but come on, why can’t you get with him besides this Bakugou guy?”

“Well, he’s just like Bakugou! He’s practically married to his job! Their schedules basically match together perfectly! There’s literally only three hours a day while they’re on the job that they’re not together! And that’s when they patrol their own parts of town because there’s hardly any activity they don’t need to be attached by the neck.” You explain and rant, your cheeks puffing as you stand up and allow Mei to run further tests on the glove.

“Sounds like you gotta become a villain to woo this hero guy, huh,” Mei spoke, eyes focused on the glove as you pointed a finger at the far wall and watched as a beam exploded from the fingertip and pierced through the steel wall like butter. “Too bad you’re a goody two-shoes or else I could make you some serious villain gear and make you a fearsome villain to then prove that Hatusme Mei’s babies and creations are untouchable and the best in the world! Muah-ha-ha-ha!”

You know her words are more joking than serious, but that doesn’t stop your eyes from widening. Your body shifts over to where she was standing and you screech pointing at her and just narrowly missing setting off the laser again.

“THAT'S IT!”

“What’s it?” she asked, completely confused.

“You have to make me a villain!” you exclaim, rushing over to Mei, who is eagerly waiting for her babies returnal especially since it ran perfectly. “You have to make me near-invisible gear that can keep me going toe to toe with Deku until I can seduce him!”

“You want to turn evil?” Mei questions, finger pressing quizzically to her chin. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“I am definitely not villainous to pull that off, but like I pretend to be a villain so that he talks to me and we can like get to know each other!” you exclaim, you’re unable to keep from hopping up and down on your feet, your grin unfathomably bright. “It's practically a romcom in the making!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mei laughs, altering the band of fabric around your waist. “You do know heroes and villains hardly speak? It’s more like… ‘I’m more powerful,’ ‘No me!,’ ‘No, ME!’”

“Um, I’m pretty sure that’s not true, but whatever! I’ll figure out a way!” you continue on unaffected because this plan was genius! Especially if you had Mei in your corner?! Her recent development of not using such… steampunk designs made her creations elusive and dangerous to own. Hence why she was an extremely sought out manufacturer, by villains and heroes alike. “And if I can go toe to toe with Deku of all people, you’ll know that you and your babies are the undeniable best!”

“Hm, that is promising,” Mei agrees with a nod as she forces you around. “Is this Deku guy all that good?”

“He’s the one you made the iron soles for!” you chirp and watch as the recognition and challenge spark immediately in Mei’s yellow eyes.

“Oh,” Mei chuckles, turning away from you and looking at her pile of made babies. “This would be good.”

“So we have an agreement?” you grin excitedly.

“Give me a month, and we’ll have your debut!”

Fuck Bakugou for thinking you weren’t good enough!

You hadn’t expected the initial phases of villainy to be quite as hard as it was, if you were being honest. The late nights at Mei’s personal lab made sure to keep your plans a solid secret, but you had to prepare for the wild range of what Deku’s quirk entailed.

There was smoke, something you were already used to working in because of Bakugou and his quirk. You’ve navigated quite a bit in his smog, and as long as you knew where you were, you would be fine.

There was also that danger sense, which allowed him to know when things were coming – something that shouldn’t be too big an issue considering you weren’t actually attempting to extract danger onto him.

Blackwhip was a big issue. How far or how much could you do if he even grabbed a hold of you. With sleuthing and the help of Mei having files on everyone's quirks, you were able to find information that blackwhip was a creation made of energy. Meaning that Mei was now making some type of destructing material to lessen the energy of the quirk, allowing for you to escape should he attempt to capture you this way.

Float was stopped by having most of your fights occur within a confined area, which was needed for you anyways! You didn’t need to be caught by anyone else but him! You didn’t actually need to land in jail – you would prefer to not be handled by anyone but Deku, actually.

Then of course the stupid superstrength and superspeed, both of which you knew you could handle with your quirk. You’ve been head to head with people with quirks similar to that before, and you knew your quirk was tricky enough that you’d manage to slip right past his fingers just fine. After all, you knew full and well that the Deku who took down S class villains was worlds quicker than F class villains – aka you.

You would be fine.

But today was day one, first of how many days it would take to get Pro Hero Deku, aka Midoriya Izuku to fall in love with you.

You were dressed in a black and purple bodysuit that was definitely not inspired by Shego from Kim Possible’s costume. Your hair was dyed purple by a special spray Mei created that would be washed out by the end of the day, but wouldn’t ever give away that it was fake. You wore a mask over your eyes, and grinned seeing that you couldn’t see a fleck of color on your irises.

Perfect.

And with far too much confidence, nauseating excitement, and unjustified attitude, you marched down towards your first spot, ready and adopting the identity of who you were about to become.

Mirage.

It was time to act. Deku and Dynamight were on different patrol routes right now, and you sent your threat, readying for the moment for the man in green to come in with the desire to stop you. With the very real threat of stealing every puppy within the tristate area being broadcasted within the area unless and hero bests you, you waited for your savior to come and stop you.

“I am here to stop your villainous acts, you villain!” a voice shattered the silence just as it shattered your heart. You looked over your shoulder to see some hero you couldn’t name standing at the other stairwell entrance with his fists clenched and ready to fight.

You groaned, shoulders crumbling with your well hidden disappointment.

“I wasn’t looking for you!” you exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the flabbergasted hero who was just trying to figure out what was happening. “Where’s Deku?!”

“He’s – he’s not here yet,” he stammers, eyes wide. “It’s not his day anymore to patrol this area?”

“Aw fuck!” you complain, pouting at the realization that you had messed up. “Okay, I’ll be back later, please don’t come back. Bye!”

With a small wave, you easily stepped through the door to the stairwell next to you and left, your threat empty and the hero victorious despite not actually stopping you. And unfortunately, although you had wished and prayed even, this was not the last time a screw up like this would happen.

At the threat of destroying all the cats in the area, you had another hero show up, not Deku, and you groaned and left before they could even finish their call of stopping you.

You then threatened to poison the watering system, to which you found out that Deku was held up at another major villain threat in a different city. You groaned and stomped off after that.

Then there was the time you swore you would increase the overall temperature of the city per one degree celsius should your demands not be made. Shouto answered that one and you immediately walked away the moment you saw the familiar head of red and white coming your way.

Time and time again you kept being caught by heroes you could not care about, being confronted by no names and nobodies. It was tiring, and Mei was beginning to sigh just the smallest bit whenever you showed up to try yet again.

But you weren’t a quitter!

You would win!

This was your last attempt at getting Deku to notice you.

After threatening to wrap all the citizens in the area with a giant froot by the foot, you were almost sad to say that the heroes ignored your cry for chaos and no one had come to check on you.

You sat outside the building you used as your trap for Deku, pouting into a hot dog that the neighborhood's grandma gave you because you looked like you needed something to eat. It’s a good thing you weren’t actually a villain or else they’d be fucked, you bitterly thought as you took another bite of your food.

It had been a month of empty, no Deku appearances, and you were going to bite the bullet and pretend to be not stubborn just so stupid Bakugou of all people could introduce you.

You kicked your feet as you sat on the staircase, humming as you watched the empty streets bend with the wind. It was quiet, beautiful, peaceful.

“YOU!” a voice shrieked to your left, and you watched a pudgy, red nosed man racing over towards you, a flash drive clenched in his hands. “TAKE THIS! RUN! DON’T LET THE HEROES TAKE IT!”

You gawked at him, feeling the small plastic device being shoved into your hands as the man collapsed at your feet. You squeaked when you heard a voice yelling stop and you bounced to your feet, turned into the building and raced in.

Your breathing was erratic, heart in your throat as you raced up the stairwell, unable to begin to imagine what the hell the information on the flash drive held. You were practically hyperventilating as you reached the floor you had come to know extremely well, and you stood near the window with shaky hands and legs.

What did you take?!

“I’m going to need that back, I’m afraid,” a low smooth voice said from behind you, and you froze immediately. Old anxiety overcome by a new anxiety, one that made your stomach flip and blood burn.

Turning around, you felt awestruck to see the one man you’ve been waiting for… for fucking years now, really, to appear before you, finally be there. In the flesh, completely, entirely. Your jaw dropped, your gaze looking down from your clenched hand that held the USB to the way that Deku looked at you with warm eyes that were underlined with steel that made you want to drop to your knees, confess everything, and beg to be his. God, he was so fucking tall. He had only been about five foot eight the last time you had actually talked, and now he was at least a foot taller. His teenager haircut was long gone, now replaced with his curls trimmed at the nape of his neck before filling out on top – not quite an undercut. He had more freckles now, surely. His skin just a bit tanner, a scar trailing from his cheek to his jaw. You knew there were more scars, just as you knew that there were dimples when he smiled.

You wanted to have him between your legs while you begged for mercy, holy shit.

Tucking the USB into your pocket, you tilted your head as you will yourself to relax.

“I went through all the trouble of getting it... I think if I’m going to hand it over quickly, I deserve to know what’s on it, no?” you tease, your confidence coming out of nowhere while a smile spreads ever so largely over your features. Deku’s eyes widened just a bit, shock overcoming his green eyes.

“I’m sorry, but that’s confidential,” Deku stresses, taking a step forward toward you. You click your tongue, taking a step backward while grinning.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked for,” you giggle as you watch Deku’s face go through an array of emotions before settling onto one – curiosity.

“What do you want?” he asked, apparently entirely ready to discuss any and all terms and conditions with you.

“Honestly?” you reply, tapping a gloved finger to your chin as you ‘think.’ Deku, however, nods. His stance relaxing, becoming one of preparedness but not the takedown he had previously entered with.

“A date with you.”

You watch as Deku’s eyes slam wide open, his jaw dropping immediately and he stammered. Oh, how your heart soared and how you felt giddy and wonderful as he seemed to slip and slide on his own tongue!

“A-A date?!” he ends up almost shrieking, his head shaking left and right. “T-That’s a total lie! You can’t possibly – well, no! Please tell me the truth!”

But you were giddy, practically drunk off the fact that you were making the most powerful hero in the world blush like a little schoolboy. You suddenly were on the offensive, stepping towards your hero who was much larger than you with power and drive behind each step. And it must have been the way you stared him down, the way you walked towards him at blank range with such brimming confidence that Deku takes a step back. But it’s something that makes you want to laugh as the heel of his foot gets caught on a raised tile, and you watch the mountain of a man tumble to the floor.

You’re on top of him immediately, hands pressed to his shoulders, knee settling near his crotch with most of your weight so he got the idea to not do anything funny. The USB sits between your fingers, and you lean over his flushed face that looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Actually, I changed my mind, I know what I want,” you say instead, nose ghosting over his. “Everytime I decide to do something… naughty… I want you to be the hero on the case to stop me. You and just you.”

You lean in closer, so close that you could see the specks of gold in his green, green eyes.

Deku hasn’t spoken, and you’re pretty sure his chest isn’t moving as you press your breasts against his.

“Understood, De-ku?”

Your teeth tug at his bottom lip and let go as he nods.

“Good, good,” you grin, sitting up on his chest and taking the USB in your fingers and slipping it into his utility belt. “Take good care of that for me, I’ll see you next time, hero…”

You had only managed to flash a quick wave before disappearing through your usual door, hoping and praying to god that whatever the hell possessed you would continue until you reached Mei’s. It wouldn’t hit you until much, much later than you had stunned Pro Hero Deku speechless within the first meeting.

Hell, you thought giddily as you answered Bakugou’s call about how he probably just got into a bit of a messy situation, maybe you do have the potential to woo him like this.

Thus truly began your descent as the villain Mirage.

It was quickly accepted and discovered that the moment you stepped into that costume and colored hair that you were the prey for Deku and Deku only. Most of your interactions with Deku occurred within buildings, and you used Mei’s gear to gain the final laugh each and every time to allow for you to escape. There were times, however, where you could be seen racing through the sky. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop as Deku followed after you, leaping, tumbling, and even catching you at times.

You flirted with him heavily, allowing yourself to be caught so that you could bat your pretty lashes and press your chest against his. It didn’t matter how professional he was, how good at his job he was, Deku was a pervert – so obviously a pervert it made slipping away almost too easy.

But because you had the world-renowned, world known Pro Hero Deku as the only hero on your case, soon the small block who had to play victims to your horrendous crimes became only a small percentage of people who were watching your crimes. These near daily crimes (or inconveniences/botherings as the people on the internet say to defend you and your actions) are becoming both a worldwide sensation, and so, it took nothing for you to continue having Deku at your feet and the world chipped in. So you agreed to do interviews, forcing uneager reporters to do segments on you so that the hype behind you and Deku’s relationship grew.

You didn’t want him to leave you, not until you got what you wanted, and unless you were an idiot, you were nearly positive you were almost there.

Why would you say that?

Well, a few reasons.

The first came about a week after you had first met Deku again.

You had joyously gathered the means to create a machine to shave down an eighth of an inch of everyone's shoes in the entire country of Japan without their knowledge. You had ever so evilly explained that the point of this was to ensure that for a full day, everyone would feel off and unbalanced but would not know why.

You had said this, grinning widely as you turned around to see Deku standing there attempting to fight off a very amused smile.

“I don’t think that would be all too evil, Mirage,” he called out to you, arms folding across his chest as he watched you set up the machine to do exactly what you said you would do.

“Mm, that’s what you say now, but just wait until you’re one of the losers stumbling around,” you say back, grinning as you turn around for just a second, wagging the knife at Deku from the distance.

“Well, regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku laughs just slightly, and you grin, standing up.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, so I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there.”

You giggle.

“Make me.”

You’re not sure what happens, but there’s dodging and weaving, spinning and sliding. You’re practically wheezing from how hard you’re laughing as Deku can not manage to land a finger on you with the help of Mei’s items and your quirk. It all comes to an end when instead of dodging, you throw yourself right at him, and Deku has not anticipated that.

His eyes are wide open and you fiercely grin as he falls back onto the floor, unbalanced and only slightly frantic. You have the knife pointed at his neck, the dull blade sitting gently on his skin.

“So, Deku,” you taunt teasingly, your teeth burying into your bottom lip for just a moment at the sight of the dark flash in his green, beautiful eyes. “Tell me one thing, or I’ll continue on with my vile plans.”

“O-Okay?”

“Are you single?”

The second attempt came a few many weeks later.

You had gathered about 75 tons of glitter bombs and were in the current process of making them one. You had plans of setting it off over Tokyo so that for practically the rest of eternity, the entire city would have glitter everywhere. The only thing is that you did have to glue the glitter bombs together because, well, no one made super giant ones.

“This is so annoying, there’s glitter everywhere, and I’m only ten glitter bombs in!” you complain to the ‘empty’ room but knowing full and well that Deku had appeared through the broken window at least five minutes ago.

“If it’s annoying to you, then shouldn’t you stop?” Deku replied and you grinned.

He really couldn’t stay quiet, huh?

“Well, if it’s annoying to me, then that means every one of my victims will also find it annoying. Win-win situation.” you say, turning around towards him and winking. Facing back towards the glitter bombs you scowl, “stupid fucking glue gets everywhere, too!”

“Regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku said as leveled as he could although you swore you heard a laugh in his voice.

“Just try and stop me,” you reply back stone cold.

You stand up and watch as Deku stands up from the windowsill and sighs just a bit too heavily.

“Guess I have to,” he says and shoots out before you’re well prepared.

Typically, and probably in any other situation, this would have been the end. Pro Hero Deku had come at you with the speed and power as he took out any other Class F criminals, but unfortunately for him, and definitely fortunately for you that glue was EVERYWHERE.

Deku’s hand was stuck onto your arm, and your chest was glued to his stomach, and you swear you never quite got the strawberry Deku references until right now.

The perverted hero burned scarlet, his face practically simmering with heat as your body became undeniably stuck to his. You had to fight off the vindictive smirk, the practically snarling grin as you could feel something hot and heavy twitch at your hip.

“Fuck,” Deku wheezed.

“Fuck, yeah,” you grinned.

“WHAT?!”

Deku could not look you in the eyes for about 10 more interactions following that, but you counted that as a win. But undoubtedly, your starred and favorite memory of it all was something that occurred just last week of the current present events.

You had stood on top of a building, threatening the entire government of stealing (i.e., cutting off) the aglet of their shoes and sweaters and then removing all the laces so that it would result in their wasted time and entire humiliation!

“I don’t think most people even know what aglets are, to be honest,” Deku said from behind you. You turned around to see that he was standing there with an unsuppressed grin. “It’s not a good enough threat.”

You go unfazed by his judgement, choosing to instead bat your eyelashes and push your hair behind your ear.

“Not a good enough threat, and yet, you’re still here?” you tease, enjoying the way pink flushes to his cheeks.

“Where else would I be?” he says, and you have to ignore the way your stomach fills with butterflies.

“You’re not cute when you flirt back,” you deadpan, biting your tongue harshly when he says ‘hey!’ “Enough chit chat, let me kick your ass now and then do what I need to do.”

Unlike probably what is 95% of the time, you made the first move today.

You were on the offensive, jabbing and weaving, sweeping and punching. Deku’s green eyes were nearly black as he watched you, analyzing and taking in your movements, countering them all without so much of an issue.

“I still don’t get your quirk,” Deku grunted as his hand swiped at the empty air. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“So then you can turn me in to the government who are still salty about their aglets? I don’t think so!” you say with a laugh, rolling out of the way as Deku lunges forward. “Try again, baby, I have full faith that you’ll get it.”

Deku puffed out a chuckle and lunged again, his huge gloved hand swiping at you, with nearly accuracy despite your quirk being on. But… he wasn’t exactly perfect.

RIIIIIIIIIP!

Cold air hit your breast and your jaw dropped as your very exposed breast appeared before you and Deku. Pro Hero Deku had torn the breast of your costume, the costume that you purposefully did not wear a bra for because you had wanted this exact scenario to play out.

“DEKU!” you screech, pretending to be modest and covering your tit as Deku finally yanked himself out of staring at your breast and whipped around.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t think that was going to happen! I didn’t even mean to look at your boob! It just sort of all happened too fast and it was very shocking! N-Not that you have an ugly boob or anything because actually I think you have a very great boob! But oh my god, I need to shut up please ignore me!” Deku spoke so fast in a matter of five seconds, and you couldn’t even tell him to come back as he sprinted away.

His ears burned red and you swore even as he was gone, you could still see the red of his ears illuminating the sky.

You laugh.

“What a perv.”

And so, we are back to the beginning.

Back to how you forced a local news channel to read your demands so that you could hopefully take your final bow as Mirage forever.

With the threat of having a machine that would make dogs bark at a frequency for hours on end until humans eardrums broke then bleed. You made your way to your typical building and hummed as you waited.

The world outside was the same as always.

There were a few people out, a few cars driving through the street, and a few birds chirping here and there.

It was peaceful.

“Don’t you think the new reporter thing was a bit dramatic?” Deku chuckled from behind you.

You were used to him approaching like that, used to him trying to portray being elusive and cool. In your opinion, it just made him dorky.

“No such thing as being dramatic when I’m trying to go head to head with the greatest hero ever,” you respond back effortlessly. You spin on your heel and look back at Deku, who is leaning against a doorframe that he most definitely is slouching on so that the top of his head doesn’t hit the frame. “Hi, Deku.”

“Hi, y/l/n,” he says with a soft smile, one that's slightly victorious, one that makes your stomach knot in a pleasant way.

“Ah, you discovered my secret identity,” you observe, grinning as you begin approaching Deku. “Should I be scared?”

“Probably not, I don’t think I could do anything to you,” Deku sighs, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you too. “You’re pretty amazing, y/l/n.”

“Let’s prove that then,” you grin while zipping forward.

As if the both of you knew that this was the end of the line, the final confrontation, the battle this time was different. It was showy, flirty, full of spins and side steps, playing a game of cat and mouse while dodging and weaving. You laughed as blackwhip dissolved around your costume, and you frowned as he began using more of his power to get from point A to point B much quicker.

You’re not quite sure how it happened, what exactly you did wrong, or maybe Deku just finally figured out the pattern you used for your quirk because suddenly you were being tackled from behind. You shrieked as the two of you went down, his body flushed on top of you, his chest pressing to your shoulders.

The both of you were heaving, panting, completely out of breath from the five minutes you took playing around. He holds your wrists in one hand, pinned above your head, and the other one is on your waist. You were trapped beneath him, unable to move the absolute unit of a man above you, arms and hips weak to his weight. You shoved your hips up, attempting to shift some of his weight off you, but you froze as he choked on a breath by your ear.

Your ass was pressed against something hard, thick, and hot.

Oh.

Ohhh fuck.

It was happening.

Holy fucking shit.

Your breathing hitches as you thrusted your ass up again, confirming you were grinding on what was definitely Deku’s hardening cock. And once again, Deku makes the prettiest, most embarrassed gravelly grunt at the back of his throat and you feel like every strand of resistance and strength snaps.

The hand on your waist pulls you even closer against his crotch, and there's lips pressing against your neck, and you absolutely lose it.

He kisses your neck sloppily, teeth nipping at your exposed flesh, and you grind against him, moaning and thrusting back as your body feels like it's on fire. He wanted you! He wanted you and your plan to woo him worked!

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you keen breathlessly. “Wanted you so badly, Deku.”

“Fuck,” Deku curses, his hips thrusting back against your clothed ass with power you couldn’t fucking wait to feel. “I wanted you too. Wanted you so badly, but didn’t think – holy shit.”

His hand that pins your wrists lets go of you, and moves to grab your jaw. You nearly fucking melt as his full lips slam against yours, and you moan as his lips move against yours. There’s something indescribable about how he’s kissing you, the want, the need, the months of suppressed tension bursting through every move and curve of his mouth. It doesn’t matter to you that you’re pressed up against the concrete floor, you feel like you’ve been placed into another world, an area where you can never come back.

Your arm reaches behind you and buries into his soft curls, you tug at them as your ass circles against his thrusting hips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you whine at the hot, wet muscle in your mouth, and it sends your head spinning. You can’t take it anymore, you need him, want him flushed against your front.

“Can I fuck you?” Deku asks swollen lips pulling away from yours, his mouth frantic and trailing kisses up your cheeks and down your jaw. “Please, I wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna fuck you on the floor and against the wall. Can I make you mine?”

You nod your head frantically, unable to come up with the words to say in order to tell him yes.

Deku laughs breathlessly and flips you over so that it’s your back against the floor now.

And just like you want him to, Deku comes down to reclaim your mouth. Hot, open mouthed kisses, teeth tugging at your lips and hands grabbing your waist. His hands are huge against you filling up the space between your hip and your waist without an issue. Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling entirely small underneath him, but entirely ready to be fucked by him.

His lips move expertly against yours, teeth nibbling at your lips, mouth then sucking on your tongue. You can’t keep the continuous moans from leaking out, can’t keep yourself from staying quiet as your eyes flutter open and see green eyes so dark they look black, staring down at you with the intensity of a predator.

You were his prey, and you would present to him at the drop of a hat.

His body is hot, heat rolling off of his hero costume in waves, making you feel like you were near burning against him. And the heat between his thighs sits at the bottom of your ass, thrusting up and grinding against you so that you don’t forget even for a moment that you are making him this way.

“I always knew you’d have such a pretty moan,” Deku mumbles as his fingers find the zipper to your costume and begin to tug it down. His lips trail down your neck, biting and nipping at the newly exposed flesh. “Knew you’d look so pretty under me, waiting to be fucked into submission.”

The words spark something within you, your eyes fluttering as your hips grind just a tad bit faster and you whine.

“Aw, is that what you wanted this entire time, y/l/n?” Deku asks, his grin pressed against your collarbone. “Wanted to be stretched out and fucked until you can’t anymore?”

“I want it,” you gasp, your fingers burying deep into his curls. “I want you, I want it, I want your dick in me already!”

“Not into foreplay?” Deku chuckles just a bit, tongue then tracing up your neck.

“Oh I am,” you snap, fingers finding the zipper of his own costume. “You can find out later how much I’m into it, but right now, I have been wanting you for years, and you will not make me wait any longer!”

Deku only nods frantically, and it's a mess of limbs, sloppy kisses, and clothes as the both of you strip to nothing.

Deku’s in between your legs, one hand pressed to the back of your knee, the other gripping what you believe is his dick because it makes everything in the world freeze as you see it. It’s huge, so thick that his hand wraps around it in a nice grip, and it long, curling up to his abs, curved and veiny.

“Holy shit,” you squeak, your cunt already clenching at the thought of taking that in.

“Are you ready?” Deku asks, the hand on your leg moving away for a moment as he cards his fingers back through his hair. “I don’t have a condom, though.”

“That’s fine, I don't care,” you dismiss his words, eyes too focused on the flush cock in his hand. “I don’t think I’ll live after you kill me with that anyways.”

Deku laughs just a bit, his dimples flashing as he leans in and kisses you deeply. You tremble underneath him, feeling so small pressed up against him, and you mewl when you feel the head of his cock pressing between your folds.

“Put it in,” you gasp, leg lifting and wrapping around his waist, “put it in! I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk, do you understand?!”

Deku nods, and with a sense of frantic need, his hand guides his cock into you.

It feels like you’re splitting in half. The girth of his cock stretching your walls out to the max, and he’s only going in. You scream loudly, both in pain and pleasure because it hurts so good.

“Take it, baby, take me all in,” Deku pants, his hips pushing out small, tiny thrusts to ram his cock further and further into your twitching cunt. “That’s i-it, holy fuck, that’s it! You’re taking me all the way in. F-Fuck… you’re so amazing! So fucking perfect!”

Tears are pouring out of your eyes, and your nails are tearing into his back, you sob slightly overwhelmed with his cock and the absolute pleasure of finally getting what you want and it being so much better than you thought. Your cunt throbs almost violently as Deku’s cock finally hits your cervix and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts in further, lips attempting to claim yours.

“Fuck me, Deku,” you beg, hips beginning to slam and fuck up onto his cock. “Please! I need you!”

“Such a desperate little villain though,” Deku sighs, teasingly, giving you one strong thrust for good measure. It goes a long way though, the power behind his thrust and thighs promising you a bruised ass, thighs, and cunt makes your mouth water for more. “I need you to promise to never do anything like that again and be a good little manager for Kacchan.”

“W-Wha–”

“Be good and stop being Mirage, or else you won’t be fucked.”

There was no hesitation.

“Okay.”

And just like that, Deku’s soft smile curves into a knowing, fierce smirk, and you can do nothing as his hands press to the back of your knees and he begins thrusting his hips into you. And it takes you completely out of control.

It’s a messy, frantic dance, your body holding onto his, your lips pressing against his, desperate and needy for his, and he is basically trying to imprint his body onto yours, the concrete, and the walls. Your bodies are so foreign to each other, and yet, when he fucks into you just a bit hard, just a bit faster, you come undone, back arching and toes curling as you sob his name.

It’s overwhelming to know that he can read you this well and for you to have never fucked him before. It’s empowering to see that he likes every forced and involuntary squeeze and clench of your cunt. He loved when your nails dug into his skin, raking their existence against the plane of broad muscles and scars.

Deku curses your name as you clench around him, his hands moving to your jaw so that he can lift your face to kiss him just so. He kisses you with a heated passion, a need that strips your entire being bare, and his hips slam so loudly against you, the slicked wetness is squelching and slapping with every grunt and moan.

In and out his cock goes, and you praise him and his cock.

You praise him for making you feel so good, for stretching out your pussy with that fat cock of his. You beg for more, and more, and more. You want every snap of his hips to send new colors to your vision, and every echoing squelch of your meeting, sloppy sexes only adds to the blabbering, unmanaged sentences from your lips.

“Harder, faster, more!” you beg, practically wailing against his shoulders, needing him more and more. The concrete hurts against your back, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he breaks your back, it’s a fall you’ll take. “Don’t hold back! Don’t you dare hold back!”

“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Deku gasps, his sweaty brow burying into your cheek. “I won’t though, I won't. Be ready, I’m not sure if you can take it.”

Before you can snap back that you can in fact take it, Deku’s weight falls heavier onto you and the angle shifts just slightly, and your words are ripped right out of your throat for a pitched, window shattering screech. Deku fucks into you with a new power, some untapped strength as greenspark falls from his skin as he ruins you for anyone ever again.

Your voice begins to scream out, the feeling of his vicious, thick cock snapping into you, shoving your shoulders further and further into the concrete was sending your head spinning. Your body is convulsing as he fucks you with new vulgar need and strength. But before you could scream your praises, Deku’s fingers shove into your mouth, and his other hand wraps around your neck, silencing your words and noises as he fucks up into you again and again and again.

“So loud, angel,” Deku smirks, fingers stroking and pinching your tongue as saliva pours endlessly from your mouth. His voice isn’t strained however, doesn’t have any indication that he’s out of breath or ready to tap out and that nearly makes you go insane. “I can’t wait to see everything that makes you look like this… you’re so pretty when you’re getting fucked.”

Your head is spinning, the heated tightness in your core clenching and throbbing as his conquesting cock never once stops or lessens. It just grows and grows and grows. His cock twitches in you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lets out a deep moan.

“Such a good and wet cunt you are,” Deku gasps as you gag against his fingers that press roughly against the back of your tongue. Your vision feels hazy, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine as his hand on your throat opens and closes, demonstrating his power over you. “I’m so glad you went through all this hard work to get me to fuck you.”

You can’t speak, so you nod desperately, you were so happy you did this too.

Your hips buck up into him with sheer stubborn drive to get him to toss his head back and moan, you wanted to see him unhinged too. Your eyelashes flutter, as his hands remove themselves from your face, and they move to your hips to help you out. But the building tightness and demanding need in your cunt was growing louder, hotter, completely undeniable. Your teeth sinking against his skin as you whimpered loudly, absolutely pathetically as you shifted faster, fucking against him harder.

“I-I’m so close,” you manage to moan out, and a sharp escape of air comes from his nose at that revelation.

Deku nods, his head moving so that his forehead rests against yours as he looks deep into your eyes. “I need you to look at the way your belly bulges while I fuck you before you cum, I want you to watch it bulge as you cum.”

You whimper, the strain in your neck almost insufferable as you peer down at your hastily exposed stomach, and you nearly faint at the pornographic, near-insane image of your stomach bulging with his hammering monster of a cock. And just like that, the tight heat in you snaps without a hitch, and you come tumbling down from the heights of your building orgasm. White heat and light spread through your body, your jaw slacking as you moan loudly, screaming his name as you convulse against him, body entirely limp. Deku, who was barely hanging by a strand, completely loses it when your core clenches like a vice against him.

Hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock, his heavy, shaking gasps the only thing you can hear as he fucks into you once, twice more for good measure he collapses onto his forearms above you. It’s hot, almost too hot as he lays on top of you, the sticky fluid of his cum radiating against your already blazing walls, and for a bit, there’s silence.

Deku is the first to move afterward, and you whine as he pulls his cock out of your sore, abused pussy. You make a noise of curiosity then fear as Deku spreads your legs even more open and moves so that his head is face to face with your cum filled pussy.

“What are you–?!” you screech as Deku takes a lick out of your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, this does taste good,” Deku smirks as he once again licks your overstimulated pussy and you sob. “Besides, who said we were done?”

bonus!

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/l/n y/n!” Izuku happily introduced you to his group of friends.

“What the hell?!” Bakugou screamed, thrusting a finger at you and all you did was laugh.

So much for not being stubborn, huh.

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #bnha #bnha x reader

853 notes · View notes

roscgcld · 3 years

Text

DAYDREAMING!AU || new reality

;request: rn i’m obsessed with your writing & the daydreaming!reader<33 but i also love angst so what would happen if she ended up getting really hurt protecting another student - hope that wasn’t too weird.. again, i love your writing !!

note: ahaha, i am glad that a lot of people enjoy my daydreaming!reader works; she is also one of my babies as well >< and originally i wasn't going to do this cause i had no idea on what to write - but i had managed to layout a rocky plan before i got some bursts of inspiration lol. ended up becoming too loud though ><” I am sorry for that~

pronouns: she/her

daydreaming!reader masterlist

“There is a chance that she will never wake up from this.”

Shoko gave the others in the room a concerned glance as she glanced up from her tablet, hating how silent it was besides the quiet beeping of the machines around the occupied bed. Laying in the bed was Y/N, a breathing tube carefully inserted into her mouth with the ventilator beside her being the only thing that’s keeping her oxygen levels normal. “The amount of damage she took was quite large. And even though she had managed to regulate quite a strong barrier of Curse Energy around her at all times, it wasn’t enough to brace her for the impact of her being slammed into the build.”

The mission shouldn’t have ended this way - the first and second year students were sent on a mission to deal with a few Finger Bearers that had appeared in the city due to the lack of sorcerers on duty at the time. They were under the care of a few First Grade sorcerers, all hand-picked by Yaga-sensei to ensure the safety of the kids.

However, things rarely go to plan in the jujutsu world.

Yaga-sensei sighs softly as he leans back into his seat, his eyes glancing over at his student that was clearly battling to stay alive. Guilt started to eat him from the inside out, since this was technically his fault. Sure, everyone knows that there is no way that you can go on a mission without enduring some casualties. But the fact is that this was not what he had expected for the outcome to be.. “I am going to kill them myself.”

“G-Gojo-san!” Ijichi hissed out as he glances over at the white haired shaman in the room with wide eyes, the man having been leaning against the wall opposite from the hospital bed with his arms crossed over his chest. His head was tipped forward with an almost too casual expression on his face, yet anyone can tell the barely suppressed anger that lurked underneath. An anger that was only a few moments away from exploding. “You can’t - don’t say things like that!”

“And you expect me to sit back as they failed to save the children?” Gojo asks in a loud voice, effectively squashing whatever confidence Ijichi had built up inside of him. The hand that was resting arm tightened, the veins at the back of his pale hands started to protrude out as Gojo’s anger started to show itself. “I need a good explanation on how their incompetency put our student in this state. 5 First Grades against 3 Special Grade Curses? With 7 talented students by their side and they still can’t handle it? Give me a fucking break.”

“Not everyone can be like you, Satoru.” Yaga-sensei finally mumbles out as he rests his forehead into his hand, fingers pinching at the space between his eyes tiredly. “If anything, it was my fault. I had underestimated the brains of the Finger Bearers, and because of that, all my calculations were wrong. I put retrieving the fingers over numbers. So if you want to find someone to be angry to, the blame is on me.”

The room went quiet after Yaga’s explanation, both Ijichi and Shoko sharing a caution look before casting a glance over at the blindfolded man. After a few tensed moments Gojo pushed himself off the wall and walked out of the hospital room without another word, closing the door behind him quietly; a stark contrast to his usual habit of either slamming the shoji doors too hard, or leaving it open completely.

That out of character move definitely had Shoko sighing in concern. “That idiot...I hope he’s not going to do anything stupid.” She mumbles softly before she turned back to face the young girl laying on the bed, quietly reaching over to brush her fingers through the soft strands that had fallen over Y/N sleeping face. “You better wake up soon, sweetheart...I worry that this might finally push him over the edge.”

Occupying each seat outside of the small waiting area in the infirmary were the other students; wounds bandaged, yet their anxiety was palpable in the air. They had heard what had happened, yet were sheild by the other sorcerers who had called for back-up. Last they heard of Y/N was a scream before what sounded like a building collasping. “Do you think Y/N-senpai is alright?”

Yuji was the first one who dared to break the silence, glancing up from his clenched hands before him to glance at the others. “I mean...it must have been bad, since she was charted off as soon as back up arrived.” Yuji mutters softly as he tightened his fingers together, trying to stop them from shaking. He felt awful - if only he had spared a few seconds to glance over at his senpai, maybe she wouldn’t be in the condition she’s in now. “It’s not every day you’re rushed straight to Ieiri-sensei’s office...”

“...If there is one idiot who can pull through, it’ll be her,” Maki mumbles out quietly after awhile, looking away from her kouhai to stare down at the wooden floors of the building they were in. “Even if it’s bad, she always pulls through it...there is no reason why she can’t do it this time.” She mutters softly just as a pair of footsteps came towards them, causing everyone to look up at the approaching figure.

Gojo paused when he spotted the others, the question they wanted to ask was clear as day. And for once, Gojo wished that he was able to reassure them like he always does. For him to be able to put up the act that everything was alright, that everyone will be okay.

But he knew that it’ll do no justice if he did. “Is she...is she alright?”

The question that fell from Yuta’s mouth was left hanging in the air for a few moments, the sliver of hope they had moments ago slowly dimming with each passing moment. Quietly Gojo slipped his hands into his pockets, his blindfolded eyes downcast; too scared to see their reactions. For once, he wished that he was not the one to break the news to the students. “Y/N-chan...might not recovery from this.”

His words sent shock waves through the students, yet he balled his fists up in his pockets to continue with what he had to say. “She hit her head too hard...and if she was not subconsciously protecting herself with Cursed Energy all the time, the impact would have caused her skull to crack in two on impact. But it still took a lot out of her person, and Shoko said that-”

The sound of a metal chair being thrown backwards echoed across the room, causing Gojo to look up just in time to see Yuta standing up with wide eyes as he hastily tried to calm his friend. “Maki, you need to calm down.” He tried to reason with the girl, who had her backed turn to the group, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket. “This isn’t your fault-” Yuta tried to reason, only to pause when Maki just silently started to walk away, leaving with no more but a loud slam of the main door that echoed down the hallway once more.

For a few moments no one said anything else, yet the first one to move was Megumi; who turned to face his sensei. “Can we visit her?” He mumbled out quietly, to which Gojo just glanced over at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Usually people talk to someone who is in a coma. Might jolt them awake or give them encouragement to fight harder...I am sure Y/N-senpai will get lonely if no one visited her..”

“Why not?” Gojo said after a few moments of thought, giving his students what he hope was a reassuring smile as he turns a little; nodding down the hallway. “Shoko managed to stabalise her condition. Just make sure to sanatise your hands at the door.”

Quietly the group of students followed behind their silent sensei, keeping close to one another as if they were trying to give each other comfort. The walk to the room seemed too far, the door seeming to grow further and further away from them with each step. It was if it was trying to stop them from seeing the truth; yet they didn’t stop. Yet soon they found themselves standing before the smooth door; the single grey name plaque with her name written in black resting in the silver plaque holder. “Right, here we are.”

After everyone was handed a blob of hand sanitiser and had wiped it onto their skin, the small group entered after a quiet knock to the door. “Y/N-chan, I’ve returned with the others...minus one, that is.” Gojo hummed out in delight as he made his way towards the bed, a silent gesture for the others to do the same. “You know Maki-chan though. Once she finishes beating herself up, she’ll come running back. She always does~”

Quietly the others made their way into the room, eyes scanning over the beeping machines and many wires connected to the sleeping girl. “Y/N...senpai..” Nobara mumbles out in shock, her eyes resting the ventilator; not believing that a girl that was bounding about the college earlier today now needed help to do something as simple as breathing. “No way...there is...”

A warm hand rest on the top of her head, Megumi quietly giving her a form of comfort whilst his wide eyes stared at the bed before him in shock. No one dared take a step forward, like they were standing on the other side of a fragile glass bridge that was moments away from breaking. “Y/N..”

Gojo felt the hole started to eat inside of him as he watches how his students were staring at their fellow classmate in shock. Quietly he settled down in the only seat at the corner of the room, watching from the shadows at how the others will react to seeing her in such a state. The first person to snap out of it was Yuta, who quietly places a hand on Toge’s shoulders before giving it a light squeeze. “Shall we go and say hello?”

Quietly Yuta made his way towards the bed, only to hesitate one step away from grabbing onto her hand. He stared at the frail hand, a simple IV needle carefully taped on the back of her palm for a few moments; a clear look of uncertainty on his face. Yet he took a deep breath, and with a trembling hand, carefully took Y/N’s cold hand in his. “I...Hi, Y/N...” Yuta mumbles quietly into the hospital room, voice barely heard over the constant beeping of the heart monitor. “Sorry...we took awhile to visit...and sorry that Maki isn’t here...I am sure she’ll drop by when she is ready though.”

The only response he got was the sound of the steady beep of the heart monitor, to which he just tighten his grip ever so slightly on Y/N’s unmoving hand. He could hear the soft giggle that Y/N would let out at his words, and if he felt tears welling up in his eyes as he hears her voice bouncing around inside his head.

“It’s alright, Yuta-san! I am sure you were busy before that. And I know Maki-chan will come after you leave - but you didn’t hear that secret from me~”

The silence of the hospital room made Yuta sick to the stomach, the idea that he might never hear Y/N’s voice again started to really sink in. Her usually warm and familiar touch felt cold and lifeless, causing Yuta to carefully tuck her hand underneath her hospital blanket; as if he was trying to warm it up once more. “I...I am going to go grab her favourite stuffed animal from her room. I am sure she’d love to have something of comfort whilst she’s here...if you’ll excuse me.”

Without another word Yuta just walked out of the room quietly, Yuji being the only one turning to watch his senpai leave with a look of concern. Out of everyone Yuji was definitely the one who seemed to be able to hold himself together the most, so it was no surprise when he was the one that went next. “Yo, Y/N-senpai,” Yuji greeted quietly as he walked towards the hospital bed, easily dodging all the wires and such. After all, this wasn’t his first time visiting someone he cares for in the hospital. “Can you hear me? I hope you can - or not Fushiguro might lecture me for being loud.”

The other sorcerer couldn’t even find his voice whilst Yuji continues on; his voice soft yet soothing as he looks down at his senpai with nothing more but a soft smile. “I know you’re trying your hardest go come back to us, and you’d probably tell us that we’re not the ones to blame. That you’re a big girl now, and things like this happen all the time.” Yuji continues, the only indication to his change of mood was the slight quiver that was hard to hide. Yet Yuji continued on anyway. “I hope you know we miss you...and we’re worried sick that you’re in the state you are now. But I know that you need some time to rest up, and soon you’ll be back on your feet again, right? ‘Cause..b-because that’s how you’ve always been.”

Silence enveloped the room once more, with Yuji just not sure on what else to say to her as he stared at her pale face. The other three in the room sort of just huddled together, all of them unsure of what to say to her. They weren’t the best with emotional words - beside Toge, who usually doesn’t use words at all - so asking them to keep their tone in check whilst referring to their unconscious classmate is a little too much for them.

So after awhile Yuji decided to lead them out of the hospital room, giving Gojo a parting smile before he closes the door behind him. Leaving him alone as he stared at the slumbering figure of his student as he rests his elbows on his parted knees. Quietly he rests his head in his hands, eyes closed as he tried to push back the light migraine that was coming on. He hates that it is his duty to break the news to the others - her parents, her elders. Heck, he has to give a call to Nanami and Utahime to tell them the bad news.

If it was anything else, he wound be more than excited to blow their phones up. But this? He wishes that the duty was handed to someone else - because he himself doesn’t even believe that this was happening in the first place.

He wishes that this was all just a terrible nightmare.

Maki quietly pushed the window open as she climbed in from the roof, the doors of halls of the infirmary long going silent; cicadas chirping away in the night sky. Maki quietly stuffed her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, eyes racking over Y/N’s sleeping form, to the amount of machines that were working by her side to make sure that she’s alive. “Hey, idiot...I’ve arrived.”

Quietly she made her way towards Y/N’s bedside, her eyes clouding over with an unreadable emotion. If she was being honest, she didn’t know how to react right now. On one hand, she was pissed - she is pissed off because she could have done something to help Y/N. Maybe if she was just faster, just a bit more aware, maybe if she was training to try harder. Maybe if she can just try harder-

A loud slap sounded across the room, Maki having pulled her hand out of her pocket to slap across her cheek hard to snap out of the spiraling thoughts. The burning sting on her cheek reminded her to return to reality before she started to trash the room out of anger, something that she and Y/N had been working on for some time now. Y/N would always say, “You should never turn to anger and violence to deal with your issues!”

Maki wonders what her reaction would be if she had saw Maki slapping herself so hard that there was a light handprint on the side of her cheek. “You’re so annoying, you know that?”

With a tired sigh Maki settled down in the seat that Gojo had occupied earlier in the day, keeping her eyes on the steady heart monitor; her eyes following the spike that indicates the faint heartbeat of Y/N. “Who the hell knew that it took an entire building to really get you hurt.” Maki sigh as she tore her eyes away from the screen, looking down at her boots quietly; examining all the scuffs and scratches on marring the smooth leather. “Call me stupid, but I really thought that it’d take more than that. Remember when you had jumped out the window of the 10th floor and left with no more but a bruise? You were crying about it ‘cause you couldn’t wear dresses for about 2 weeks.”

Maki let out a tired laugh at the memory of finding Yuta trying to reassure a crying Y/N when she found the bruise on her knee; Yuta just patting her head with the most amused look on his face whilst she cried her eyes out at the idea that she can’t wear her cute dresses until it cleared up. “Imagine what will happen when you wake up from this? God, that is going to be a pain.”

A soft sigh left Maki’s lips as she glances over at the stuffed sheep that Yuta had brought from her room; along with a few more random stuffed animals that surrounded her head like a halo. This caused her to smile sadly as she rests her head on her shoulder, watching her for a few minutes without saying anything. Maki had always been bad with words and emotions; with all the things she had gone through when she was younger. Wording how she feels and emotions are not Maki’s favourite thing to deal with, since she wants to keep this badass, strong woman front she has on all the time to prove something to her elders.

“You better wake up from this, or not I am going to kick your ass.” Maki mutters after a few moments, getting up with a tired sigh before she casts her another glance at Y/N. Without missing a beat, she reaches over to brush strands of hair away from her face, warm hand resting on her head for a few moments before she places a few parting pats on her head; something she had always done when she needs to leave for a mission or a meeting outside of school.

“‘Night, brat. Wake up soon, okay?” Maki mutters, and with a final sigh she made her way towards the window she climbed in once more, quietly shutting it behind her after she hauled herself over the railing. It was only in the dead of the night that Maki quietly lets her tears fall, biting her lip hard to stop whatever sounds that were threatening to leave her lips.

Because at the end of the day she is stubborn, and refuses to believe that this might be her new reality.

A week had passed since the day that the others found out that Y/N had fallen into a coma of a sorts, and everyone would visit at least once just to see if there is any sight of change. That there might be a sign that she was going to wake up soon. And there were slight changes; a few days after she had been admitted she was allowed to get off the ventilator and rely on oxygen instead. But she was still in bad shape.

Nanami tries to make time to drop by to visit as well, coming over to quietly read pages of the book that he was reading. Whenever Y/N was sick, she would call Nanami over the phone and ask if the man can read to her; something about how she finds comfort in his voice that puts her at ease. And since Ieiri had encouraged them to talk to her more for stimulation, Nanami takes the time to read to her after a long day of work. It brought him some comfort as well, listening to the constant beeping of the heart monitor and the humming of the other machines around her.

Gojo would sometimes drop by as well, only to berate Nanami for his ‘boring’ book choices; and an unconscious Y/N has to endure two adults arguing about book choices and how Gojo’s titles are definitely not appropriate to even bring onto school grounds.

Besides the occasional argument, sometimes Gojo will prop his phone up against a vase of flowers that Yuji brings so that Utahime can FaceTime him; the students from the Kyoto side being able to see and talk to the slumbering Y/N. For the most part, everyone was shocked that she was in the state she was in; having never expected such a bright and talkative person can fall into such a state.

The most distraught one was definitely Todo, who had almost jumped out of his seat and make a full on dash towards Tokyo if it wasn’t for Noritoshi and Mai joining together to restrain the man, along with Principal Gakuganji threating to hold him back from their planned trip to Tokyo the following week that had him calming down.

But barely - the man is still more than ready to just up and run across the country just so he can be closer to his ‘beloved Y/N-chan’.

Every day, without fail, Toge will come into her hospital room with a new accessory to pull her hair back into; carefully brushing her hair out and applying dry shampoo so it wasn’t greasy to the touch. Once he was satisifed he’d carefully style her hair back so it didn’t get in the way of her checkups, taking his time with everything so he gets to spend more time with her. He doesn’t say much, he usually finds that doesn’t whenever he is around her; so he takes his time when he does her hair in hopes that she can feel that he is there for her.

Yuta and Megumi will find time after classes to go and visit her together, telling her about everything that had happened whilst she is asleep. Sometimes Nobara will visit as well, must for the most time she’d come alone in the evening after dinner to just rant to her about everything that she found annoying that happened over the day. Nobara usually stay until Ieiri comes to kick her out, hoping that Maki might come in as well to visit Y/N.

But Maki never does - yet everyone knows that Maki finds the time in her day to go and visit her like everyone else. However, no one dared to ask her how or when she does it. They’ve accepted that it was probably a sensitive subject to her, and that it’s off limits to ask her unless you want her to ignore you for the rest of the day. Gojo had learnt it the hard way when he had teased her, only to be thrown out the window of their classroom by an annoyed Maki.

Even his Infinity is no match for that woman’s wrath.

Days soon led into weeks, with slow but not so encouraging signs of improvement from the young girl. The elders of her clan and her parents had visited the college as soon as they can, and had kept tabs with every single thing that is going on with her. There was no denying the fear of her suddenly relapsing once more, and soon it will become too much for her parents to bear. The idea of keeping Y/N around, knowing that she is in so much pain, just for their selfish want of keeping her alive was a reality they want to avoid.

The once vibrant and lively campus soon turned gloomy; the hallways of the school quiet without the familiar sound of bunny-themed slippers running across its worn-out flooring. The chime of a familiar giggle was missing in the air, along with a dreamy voice that just never seems to stop; no matter what time of the day it is. There were days where the others forget that Y/N was not there to make dinner for the night, or she wasn’t there when they want to ask her opinion about something. Her room, which once served as a sanctuary for the students who can’t sleep at night, now became too painful to even walk past on certain days.

Yet everyone tried their hardest to go on with their days, knowing that it was what Y/N wanted them to do. If they were to allow their grief to consume them whole, they knew the delicate routine they had rebuilt would crumble before them. And if there is one thing they can do to keep Y/N’s memory alive, is to live their lives to the fullest. To try and cherish each and every day, no matter how painful reality is without her by their side.

They have to try, for her sake.

It wasn’t until a month passed when Yuta had came running into the lunch hall, looking like he had seen a ghost as he tried to catch his breath. “Okkotsu-senpai?” Megumi asks in concern as he looks over at the older man, putting his tray down to try and give his panting senpai a hand. “Are you-” He asked, only to have Yuta put a hand up to stop him as he took a few deep gulps of air.

“A-Awake...Y/N...Y/N is awake.”

Within a few seconds the students were sprinting across campus, none of them believing what Yuta had said until they have see it for themselves. What is usually a 10 minute walk from the lunch hall took about four minutes with them sprinting, possibly annoying half of the cleaners of the school that they were breaking the no running rule. Yet they didn’t stop even at their annoyed outcries, the simple wooden door of the infirmary almost coming off its hinges at how hard Maki had thrown it open.

Maki was the one who pushed the hospital room door open, causing the people in the room to jump in shock. Including Y/N, who had let out a soft squeak of shock; her voice hoarse from not using it for so long. The others blinked in shock at the sight of Y/N’s bright eyes meeting theirs at the doorway, ones that blinked before she gave them the biggest smile she can muster.

“H-Hi.” Y/N mumbles softly, to which Nanami just gave her a rare smile as he gently rubs her back, Gojo smirking softly as he recorded the reactions of the others by the door. He had gotten over the shock a few moments ago. “Don’t strain yourself, Y/N-chan. Remember what Ieiri-sensei said about straining your voice.” The blonde man hummed before he turned his blue eyes over at the shocked students as well. “And that goes to you too. If you all stress her out, I am not against tossing you all out.”

Y/N made a noise and turned to try and reassure the older man, not noticing how the others were staring at her in shock. The first person to move was Maki, whose eyes look suspicious wet as she stormed into the room. “I am going to kill you.” She growled out loudly, to which Y/N jumped before she held her arms out for protection; feeling a shiver of fear go up her spine. Yet before she can make a move to stop her, Maki suddenly wrapped her up in a hug, the arms that Y/N held out to try and pacify her angry classmate freezing from the unnatural reaction from Maki.

Y/N blinks for a few moments before she smiles softly and wraps Maki up in her arms as well, gently patting her head as Maki silently wets her shoulder with her tears. “I know.” Y/N mumbles out softly before her eyes met the others, giving them a soft smile as she gently gestures to the others to enter her room. Soon there was just a huge ball of crying teenagers hugging one another on Y/N’s hospital bed; Gojo and Nanami having moved aside to give them more space for their reunion as they watched on from the other side of the room. “Should we stop them?”

“Nah, we might get murdered if we try.” Gojo said with a hum as he grins over the sound of intelligible crying, looking over at Nanami who had a ghost of a smile on his lips at the sight. “Besides, this is great content. I never had a video of Maki crying before.” Gojo admitted, to which Nanami’s smile dropped as he looked over at him in annoyance.

“Why am I not surprised at all?”

640 notes · View notes

yuedama · 3 years

Note

OMGOMG ok so can you do a jealous yelena x reader smut IM SO THIRSTY FOR HER RN

content : nsfw ; vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, petnames

notes : ohoho gotchu anon ;) 'm sorry if it took a while but i hope u enjoy !!

a harsh grip on your chin forced your eyes to stare into pools of grey, the intensity beneath them making you writhe in your place. it all had happened so suddenly— you had been making your way towards the mess hall for dinner when an arm yanked you into a dimly lit room. you had initially panicked, but after seeing who had pulled you into the dark and confined space, you immediately let your guard down.

which, in your part, was a big mistake.

just as you looked up to invite the blonde for dinner, you were met with a glowering yelena, no trace of tenderness in their face as she pushed you against the wall. you reached out your hand to cup her cheeks, but it was quickly smacked away.

“yelena?” your voice was soft as you stared at her in concern, though there was a stinging in your hand from the impact of her slap.

she made no response, only choosing to growl at you before coming down to bite the skin between your neck and collarbone. you whimpered at the attack, face contorting to that of pleasure and pain, hands coming up to her shoulders to push her away.

“hey, 'lena, what's wrong?”

“oh, you tell me what's wrong. why were you getting all friendly with that blond?” hot breath tickled your lips as they maintained intense eye contact with you, lengthy fingers finding purchase on the base of your neck to push you further against the wall. “what was his name again?”

“i-i don't know who you're talki—”

“nice try, doll, but that's not going to work.”

you made a confused hum which eventually turned to a string of mewls as yelena nipped at your flesh, adamant at leaving marks on your skin. they relished in the way you would sigh and pant as they sank their teeth into you, the feeling of your warm body rutting against theirs absolutely euphoric.

“you know who i'm talking about, that blond kid with the undercut.” yelena's eyes bore deeply into yours as she leaned back, one hand cradling your face while the other was gripping your thigh. “you seemed so comfortable around him, leaning against his shoulder as you laughed at whatever pathetic joke he made.”

“you've got it wrong!” you cried, voice shaky for you were out of breath, fingers clutching her dress shirt tightly to ground yourself.

“wrong?” yelena feigned innocence, having the audacity to look hurt as a hand coming to resting on their chest. “you mean to tell me i didn't catch you all over that kid a while ago?”

she leaned in to whisper against your ear, lips tracing the lobe just enough to make you feel hotter. “are you accusing me of seeing things, doll?”

“'lena, let me explain,” a desperate look was written on your face; though you were a little nervous, you also couldn't resist the ticklish curiosity eating at you for what yelena might do to you. all the ways she would touch you, run her fingers on your body as she claimed you were hers. it made you drool at the thought.

“what's there to explain?” the blonde's nails dug into your hips, her head leaning down to tug your bottom lip harshly as she spoke against it. “i saw everything.”

you could only whimper against their lips, eyes closing as you let her have her way with you. before you knew it, your bottoms were in a pool at your ankles, your dripping essences on display for the tall woman.

“you actually got fucking wet from that? how low of you, darling,” yelena chuckled, a dark glint overtaking their expression as her fingers rolled your erect clit. your legs buckled, and if you weren't holding onto her to brace yourself, you were certain you would have collapsed to the floor.

“l-lena a-ah!” the pinching of your bundle of nerves coupled with the biting of your neck quickly riled you up. yelena was ruthless, showing no mercy as she toyed with your clit and marked your neck, choosing places where she knew people could see.

“that's right, call out my name,” she forced you to keep your eyes on her, lips twisting to a sadistic grin as she watched the way she made you crumble; pleasured you like no else did, no one else could. a digit entered your sopping hole, prodding right at your sweet, spongy spot.

black dots clouded your vision as you tried your hardest to train your eyes on the blonde before you, chest heaving up and down as you greedily sucked in air, tongue lolling at the tip of your mouth. she sped up the jerking of her wrist as she added a second finger, thumb pressing down on your clit hard.

broken moans echoed in the room, your mind unable to focus on anything but the way yelena devoured you with her gaze while thrusting in and out of your cunt.

“l-lena n-ngh!”

the sense of pride that bubbled in yelena's chest was incomparable to anything as she listened to you practically scream her name while she made you crumble beneath her.

“who owns you?”

“you...” tears pricked your waterline as you forced your voice out your dry throat, hands pathetically clinging onto the blonde's forearms for dear life.

“louder, darling.” her pace quickened, steel eyes widening in adoration as she watched the way you took in her fingers, drool trickling down the sides of your mouth.

“i'm yours, yelena, all yours!” her lips twitched upwards, a satisfied sigh being drawn from it as she kissed the salty tears away from the corner of your eyes.

“and who's fucking you this good right now?”

“y-you, yelena!” you were going insane from the brutal, inhumane speed she had set, eyes shutting close as the pleasure became too much to handle.

“you think that armin can do you as good as i can?”

“n-no, 'lena.”

“good pet,” the fondness in her husky voice was unmistakable, though it grew in contrast with the way she continuously, ravenously, grazed your slick walls with her rough fingertips. you could only clench your eyelids harder til you started seeing colors, whole body spasming as you were drawn nearer to your high.

“want me to call him and show him just how much of a mess you are for me?”

a gasp left your lips as your eyes snapped open to look at the blonde's face in confusion, searching for any signs of humor in them, though she looked dead serious. “please d-don't. i belong to you, 'lena, only you!”

“you plead me not to, yet the way your walls gripped my fingers say otherwise,” a frown graced her features as she stopped her ministrations, robbing you of the high you were chasing.

“'lena, why'd you stop?” it was so frustrating, feeling the telltale signs of a coming orgasm only to have that sweet moment ripped away from you.

“you'd have to reflect on your actions before you even think of getting to cum.” yelena growled, stepping back to straighten her clothes and make herself presentable.

with that, she walked out and disappeared to god knows where, leaving you sensitive and insatiable, an uncomfortable wet patch in your underwear as you made your way towards the mess hall once more. it had become apparent that luck wasn't on your side, for the only empty seat in the room was beside the blond who was the main reason for yelena's outburst.

#snk smut #yelena aot #yelena x reader #yelena smut #aot smut #yelena brainrot #yelena x reader smut #snk.%!

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libradusk · 4 years

Text

Ignited | Rex

Word Count: 8,388

Pairing: Captain Rex x Reader

Summary: After an unexpected crash landing on Felucia results in Rex becoming entangled within a particularly sticky patch of foliage, an even stickier situation unfolds between the pair of you.

Warnings/Content: Explicit smut, as in the longest smut fic I’ve written so far, Rex gets a face full of Sex Pollen tropes (and by extension, slight dub-con by virtue of that?), AFAB reader (though no gender is explicitly mentioned), oral sex (reader receiving), hintssss of cock warming + breeding kink because that’s what I’m here for baby, can’t lie there are clear feelings involved because I’m too soft for this MAN.

a/n: This is set during the events of “Bounty Hunters” from season 2 of TCW, except instead of fighting pirates the reader and Rex end up boning down.

I took some liberties (I guess??) with the writing of the ship and also Clone Trooper equipment for plot purposes but let’s be real that’s not why any of us are here rn.

I’ve had this + a sequel planned out forever so its such a relief to finally have finished part 1 of this behemoth at least.

And now, at last - have part 2

When the command that would reassign you to the Felucia Medical Base had first been issued, you were none too happy about it. You had become quite content with your duties amidst the 501st, as well as the closeness you had cultivated with its men, enough so that you were incredibly reluctant to see an end to it all. Despite the severity of the war currently plaguing the Galaxy, and their especially heavy involvement in fighting for the Republic side, the 501st always seemed to find a way to rekindle your optimism in a multitude of ways that were unique to them. It was refreshing. You considered yourself incredibly lucky to be surrounded by so many individuals, soldiers and Generals alike, who never failed to treat both you and each other as though you were each true individuals in their own unconventional family unit.

But alas, your luck had finally run dry. As instructed by the forces commanding both you and your unit of staff, you were now to stay at the base to re-establish its connections, as well as to provide a befittingly intricate report as needed.

Orders were orders.

Didn't mean you had to like them though.

You glare out into the darkness of space as that thought continues to swarm around your mind. The ship you’re currently situated upon cuts smoothly behind the one piloted by General Skywalker himself. You secretly thank the stars that you don’t have to share a vehicle with Anakin, considering how you’ve witnessed his reckless flying techniques numerous times over in the time you’ve known him. But even so, you can’t help but silently curse your own ship for being the object responsible for pulling you away from the only sense of true belonging you’ve felt since joining the army. All you can hope for is that the medical station isn’t too heavily damaged despite losing contact with the base of operations, and that by some miracle you can pull some strings to get reassigned back to your boys before your work within Felucia’s orbit threatens to drown you.

The dark expanse beyond the transparisteel viewpoint appears vast and inviting, as though beckoning you to sink into its velvet depths. You imagine the tenderness of the reprieve it could offer you in your fantasies, transporting you to a place where you could surround yourself with pleasant memories and little else.

Running away from your obligations would only ever get you so far, but for a moment it was blissful to relax into the thought of it. It made the ache of reality twinge a little less painfully in your chest.

You feel the warm weight of a pair of hands on your shoulders before your eyes unglaze enough to register them decorating your reflection. Captain Rex stands to attention behind you, the gentle hold of his palms atop your shoulders being the only aspect to break the picture of discipline his stance holds as he follows your gaze out to the stars. He allows his touch to linger for a moment more - to anyone else it would likely appear as no more than a colleague extending a gesture of camaraderie to a solemn looking comrade, but you know that to him it probably feels like the greatest of sins. His helmet obscures his expression, but you can hear the swish of his kama as he fidgets ever so slightly in place and you wonder if his thoughts are as overcast as your own.

This unspoken attraction, tiptoeing the line of propriety with each affectionate jest or brush of skin against armour in the corridor… it had all been going on for months now, to the extent where even Rex’s own men were beginning to whisper through the cracks in his resolve. Though now it seemed that this too would be forced to come to an end, snuffed out before it ever truly had a chance to bloom. The taste of that knowledge is sour on your tongue as you bite down on it to quash the sense of mourning that had suddenly washed over you.

It's exceedingly difficult to not take it as a form of punishment, even though you know that’s not the case. Really, you should be honoured to be appointed in charge of the station, but the fact that you had no way of knowing if it was even salvageable until you arrived there did precious little to alleviate the miserable affair this had all devolved into.

Your shoulders feel naked without his touch now and you realise that you’re yearning more than ever now that your hypothetical future with Rex is about to be torn away from you in less than an hour’s time. You find yourself wondering once more what expression graces his face beneath the visor, if his eyes lingered on you instead of the stretch of space beyond where his reflection could reach. You decide to indulge in your little fantasy for just a while longer, war was a tragic business, and you would continue to take what respite was offered to you while you still could.

“We seem to have lost you to the stars again, Officer.”

Rex’s low tone jolts you out of your starry-eyed daydream, your reflection’s gaze refocusing back at you in the windowpane as the void of space framing it fades out to a grey in your peripheral. The smile in his voice is obvious to you, even with the helmet’s barrier. It's familiar, warm but a little sad as it wraps the playful quip in a mask of enough stoicism for it to slip under the radar of the few troops that share the ship’s interior with you both. They’re mostly shinies, picked to accompany your team alongside the Captain as an escort, just in case trouble awaited your group once you reached the medical station itself. You already had the company of two Jedi Generals and their Padawan, but you weren’t about to complain about having Rex present alongside them either.

“We’re approaching the Felucia Medical Station now,” Obi Wan’s voice crackles through the ship’s communicator and closes the window of chance for you to quip back at the Captain. The Jedi’s usually calm voice prickles with an apprehension that rises the closer his much smaller ship gets to the seemingly derelict station, “something is wrong… brace yourselves- !”

Time appears suspended around you the moment the first flash of streamlined grey cuts through the darkness surrounding your ships. You have little chance to throw more than a glance towards the ruined medical station orbiting Felucia before the knife-like structure of several vulture droids cut dangerously close to your ship.

“We need to move and evacuate, now!”

You aren’t sure if it's Rex’s voice or your own that echoes against the blaring siren of your ship as it takes the first hit of fire. The durasteel beneath your feet threatens to distort with the force of it, and you feel your breath stutter in your lungs as you’re shaken violently. You stumble to cling to a nearby surface while simultaneously shoving a rather shell-shocked member of your team down towards where the ship’s escape pods are located, eyes squinting through the flash of crimson beating off the walls around you. Your gaze locks on to Rex as he stands by the doorway, ushering the last few stragglers through it with a determined wave of his hand. The dark visor of his helmet flashes dangerously with each pulse of the alarm light, bathing his white armour in a bloody glow that darkens and spreads in time with its screeching. It dawns on you then, that this might very well be the last you see of him after all, even without setting foot on the medical station itself - this, as bitter a circumstance as it is, seems much more twistedly befitting.

Another blast collides with your ship, this one buckling the wall directly behind Rex and warping the exit’s frame with the force of it. You hear Rex cry out, the sound shocking straight through you as he’s thrown forward in an explosion of sparkling wire and twisted durasteel. The sight of him struck down to his knees is enough to shoot another bolt of adrenaline up your spine, and you launch yourself towards him despite the unsteadiness of your own legs in supporting you. He’s still very much conscious, but clearly injured as you grit your teeth and drag him to his feet, all but throwing the pair of you through the sparking blast door and towards an empty escape pod as the remnants of your ship begin to hurtle further towards Felucia’s surface.

---

Your landing is less than graceful, with your pod catching its underside on a particularly sharp jut of rock on its decline and sending itself skidding across the swampy ground. The impact of the connection sends your head spinning once more, and you’re forced to take a few minutes to regulate your breathing and ensure that your vision is no longer swimming before you can open your eyes and dare to venture outside. You flex the fingers on both hands before stretching out each of your limbs on instinct, relieved to find that somehow, nothing appeared to be broken and at worse you had suffered a few mere bruises despite a landing that would have made Skywalker himself proud.

The humidity of Felucia’s climate hits you the moment you step out of the ruined pod, legs carrying you with all the grace of a baby Krugga deer. It clings to your clothes as you survey the damage dealt to what remains of your escape pod, though it chills down the back of your neck severely once it dawns on you that Rex is nowhere to be seen within the wreckage. In a burst of panic you jog forward blindly, calling out for him through a raspy throat even as you stumble into a particularly sticky patch of flora that coats your uniform in a sweet-smelling gunk. Your hands fumble across your torso before settling on the blaster strapped to your hip. You grip the trigger with clammy fingers as you force your eyes to focus completely and scan your surroundings, ears ringing with the calls of nature and unseen creatures around you.

Despite the bustle of the jungle-planet’s ecosystem all around you, you find yourself completely alone.

No troops, no supplies, no Jedi and no Rex.

Your blood suddenly feels cold despite the heat rippling across the horizon line. Each thump of your heart grows louder with every second that passes, drumming in your ears like a foreboding death march as the breath begins to skip in your lungs. It's just about drowned out the ambience across the clearing you’re frozen in when you finally hear it: a faint string of cursing in mando’a paired with the sound of very human struggling not far from where you are.

The sound of your footsteps pounding the earth reaches you before your breathing even has the chance to even itself out again.

“Rex! Oh thank goodness-”

You find the Captain entangled in an odd-looking shrubbery of fuchsia coloured thorns. The trooper’s helmet lays on its side, just out of reach as he struggles to free himself. The frustration is evident on his face as he attempts to contend with what is clearly an injured shoulder. Relief gushes through you all the same, and you waste no more time in helping him free himself.

You note the heaviness of the air around where he was trapped moments ago. The plant’s loosened pollen seemingly floats around its glossy flowers, its pinkish smog burning down your throat all the way to your belly as, despite your better judgement, you give in to your exhausted lungs and inhale too closely to it. The sensation is not unlike chasing a shot of Corellian whiskey, your head feels foggy just from the time it takes you to untangle Rex from the vines’ clutches.

Rex’s voice drawls out like his gullet is coated with honey as he groans in pain. His eyes appear largely absent even as he weakly gestures to his utility belt and the familiar prickle of panic begins to bite at you once more. You rummage through his pack and note the half-used tube of bacta tucked away within it, which you fumble to apply to the exposed wound on his shoulder. The gash glares angry and bloody from the tear in his blacks as it peers out from the gap between where his pauldron and chest-plate meet. You cringe as his entire body buckles at the touch of your fingers against his skin once you carefully tug off his armour, taking care to try not to jostle him too much in the process. Each swipe of your fingertips against his body, injured or not, has him reacting like he’s received a kick to the gut. The panic melts into a simmering worry once you finish seeing to his more obvious wounds. You take solace in the knowledge that the bacta will no doubt work on the worst of his abrasions, but the way he’s now shivering and clenching his jaw with that same hazy stare sparks a new sense of concern within you.

“... Are you sure you can stand? You still seem in pretty bad shape.”

He coughs into his fist a few times before pinching the bridge of his nose in an obvious attempt to clear his vision and mind. His eyes are heavily-lidded when his gaze drags over to meet with your own.

“... yeah, I-I’ll be fine, heads just still spinning from where I was thrown out the ‘pod.”

Your eyes widen at his words and your fingers flex with the instinctual drive to check over his heaving body for any signs of internal damage or fractures. Even through his discomfort, he seems to read your expression before the accompanying words can leave your lips.

“Nothin’s broken, can tell you that much. This… foliage, whatever it is, broke my fall. Though I dread to think how much longer I would’ve been struggling in it if you hadn’t found me when you did. Thanks, by the way.”

A sigh of relief rushes from you at his reassurance, though you can’t help but eye him sceptically as he grits through the pain to shake out the stiffness in his joints. You pat his back comfortingly as you look towards the distance, newly set on locating yourself a less obvious place of shelter for the night than what the remnants of the escape pod could offer to you both. The Separatists would pick the two of you off easily if they were to find you in such a vulnerable state, but Rex still needed a sheltered place to rest in order for the bacta to heal his wounds all the same. With another sigh and the exchange of a few words of encouragement, you urge him to walk forwards into the underbrush. You take care to keep him close in your peripheral as you bundle up his removed armour under one arm and keep the blaster raised in your other, eyes keenly trained on your surroundings all the while in case you were to spot another one of your separated allies, or in case of more insidious forces raising their heads.

---

Your prayers seem to be answered in record time, as the pair of you manage to stumble on a cave far enough away from your crash-point for you to consider it safe. It’s discovery couldn’t have come at an any more pinnacle moment, as Rex’s shivering has only worsened in the time that has passed, so much so that now you can’t even reach out an arm to support his heaving shoulders without the contact of your body heat against his own sending him spiralling into another fit of quivering, cold sweats. The situation is only made more daunting with the fact that you have yet to stumble on any of your lost allies, Jedi or otherwise, and at this point the ground itself feels as though it is pulsating under your boots with how high the heat has risen.

Quickly, you usher Rex towards a nearby patch of bushes as you step forward to survey the cave for signs of life, heart hammering in a combination of nerves and exhaustion drawn from trekking under the Felucian sun. Finding it satisfyingly empty, you beckon the Captain forward. No sooner does Rex gingerly set himself down with a grunt does his comlink finally crackle to life. Anakin’s voice sounds distorted and broken as it strains from the trooper’s wrist and you can’t help but fixate on the beads of sweat that trickle down Rex’s neck into the collar of his blacks as he lifts his arm towards his flushed face.

“-Rex, Rex! Do you read me, Rex?-”

“...Yeah General Skywalker, I hear you. Signal’s spotting something terrible, sir, but it's better than nothing.”

You hear a muddle of voices dancing amidst the static and move drop down to where Rex slumps against the cool surface of the cave wall. Your body brushes against his as you lean closer, and his breath hitches audibly despite it being the uninjured side you come into contact with.

“Everything ok there Rex? You sound in a bad way.” It’s Obi-Wan’s concerned tone that echoes across the cave space this time, and Rex shakes his head despite the General having no way to see his reaction.

“N-no I’m fine, just took a hit when the vulture droids took down our ship is all. I’ll be fine, I’m not alone.”

“I’m here with Captain Rex, General Kenobi. We still haven’t been able to locate the rest of the group we initially set off with, but we’re safe and sheltered for now.” You duck closer to Rex’s suspended wrist, doing your best to ignore the heat of his breath fanning over your cheek as you speak into the communicator. You can feel his eyes on your profile, but keep your own fixated on the blue lines decorating his forearm plating all the while. “Rex is… His shoulder is injured. I’ve treated it with what I have available, but the medical supplies perished alongside our ship and it might be at least a night until we can judge if he’s well enough to set off through the wilderness again.”

There's a thoughtful hum from the other side of your communication link and you can only imagine that Kenobi is currently cupping his chin in thought at your words. A voice you recognise as Ahsoka’s chimes in before the Jedi Master can speak once more, the volume of her voice indicating that she must have snatched Anakin’s wrist close to her face before anyone else had the chance to interrupt her.

“We have most of the others here with us! Your pod can’t have landed much further away right- hey!-”

“As I was going to say before Ahsoka here decided to interrupt, you’re hopefully not much further away from where we currently are. I’ll send over our coordinates so you can hopefully use Rex’s equipment to track to our location. We seem to have stumbled upon some kind of farming settlement, we’re going to see if we can get some help from them once we get a little closer.”

For the first time since your crash-landing, the weight sitting across your chest eases a fraction, and it manifests into a small smile of relief that brightens your face in the fluorescent glow emitted by Rex’s comlink.

“Amazing! I’m so relieved you’re all ok, I’ll admit I feared the worst once our ships began to go down.”

“Please Officer, you should know better by now than to doubt my flying skills after everything you’ve seen so far-”

“Really Anakin? I’m not so sure that's the most reassuring statement you could have given, considering your reputation... Anyway, stay safe you two and try to reconnect with us as soon as possible. I’m sending the coordinates over now.”

There’s a faint beeping sound as what you assume to be the coordinates in question sync themselves up with your own location, and it isn't long before Rex lets slip a low groan of frustration as he eyes flicker to the small display screen on the inside of his wrist. Your newfound optimism drops at the sound.

“What is it?”

“It's gonna take at least a full day and a half on foot to get to where Generals Kenobi and Skywalker are, and that’s with us both operating at full capacity.” Rex punctuates his frustration with another pained hiss as his shoulders lurch forward towards you. Your hands instantly jut out to support the weight of him, resting firmly on his chest so as to avoid latching onto his injured shoulder. The full body shiver that wracks through him is apparent under your palms, as is the way his breath catches in his throat as you move a hand to press against his clammy forehead.

He’s boiling. There’s no way you can allow him to move from the cave as his condition currently stands. This is no simple case of blood loss and fleshwounds, whatever toxin present within that plant is currently forcing itself through his bloodstream with a vengeance and is clearly the main culprit behind his discomfort. You feel somewhat lightheaded yourself, especially in such close proximity to him. There’s a creeping heat fluttering across your skin despite the coolness the cave offers. It's been slowly gnawing at your flesh since you first came into contact with Rex’s botanic prison, and you can only imagine the intensity of how it's affecting Rex in comparison.

“Don’t make that face at me, I’m gonna be fine.” He speaks through gritted teeth as he furrows a brow at your expression, attempting and failing to appear strict as he pants up at you from where he sits slumped against the wall.

“You need to rest at least. Come here and let me check your vitals.”

I need to make sure this isn’t affecting you as seriously as it seems. You choose your spoken words cautiously as you slowly begin to strip him of the remainder of his armour, leaving him in just his blacks and boots. He protests weakly for a moment before giving in to your careful touch, resigning himself to simply instructing you on how to undo the more complicated latches keeping the plating in place and watching the movement of your fingertips dance down his body.

Somehow he’s burning even hotter beneath the plastoid, his breathing becoming shakier with each layer that is pulled away from his body. When your thigh brushes up against his own when you lean across him to place his thigh-plate on the rest of the armour-pile, he throws his head back and groans. The sound shoots straight through you despite your attempt to resist it - guilt crawling in to join it in quick succession.

“...m’sorry-” he glances at you bashfully beneath heavy lashes, pausing to wet his lips between a shuddering sigh as his head lolls back against the stone behind him, “-I’m just, just burning up - my body is on fire and I don’t know how to stop it.”

You take a deep breath of your own before opening your dry mouth to speak again.

“I-its ok Rex, You’re going to be ok, I promise. Here,” you reach down to where his utility belt sits beside him, unhooking the small canteen of water and raising it to his lips, “drink, you need to get some fluids in you.”

He takes the flask from you with fingers that hint of a tremor ghosting across them. You watch his reaction as he chugs it down, noting sadly that it hardly seems to bring him any relief. With an inward sigh, you refocus your attention to checking over his vitals, alerting him before your hands make contact with his body once more.

His muscles continue to twitch under your touch, but you’re relieved to find that despite his elevated body temperature and sensitivity, there are no glaring signs of toxin poisoning or major threat in his system. You reassure yourself that his condition likely stems from his body’s reaction to an unfamiliar substance, but it being one that didn’t appear to have any threat of being fatal to him. Even so, you make a decision to set off in search of the others as soon as you were possibly able to so that he could at least receive more in depth medical aid, cursing once again that the medical supplies destined for the ruined base perished in the attack on your ship.

As soon as you pull away, a sound leaves him that's akin to a whine and the heat of your own cheeks intensifies almost unbearably.

“...I should go find something to make a fire with. Try and get some rest, ok? I won’t go far I promise.”

You shrug off the jacket you’d slung over your shoulder the moment the atmosphere had become too hot to handle, flicking it out to the side to shake off any loose pollen before draping it warily over Rex’s torso. It's less of an effort to keep him warm, his shivers are beyond any help of this kind now, but you hope it's perceived as a caring gesture all the same. Perhaps it could serve as some semblance of a pillow if nothing else. You try to ignore the way his fingers instantly ball up in the fabric like a lover’s grip on the bed sheets.

It's strange, seeing him reduced to this, a side of him that you’ve never even caught a glimpse of beforehand when you thought you knew the Captain so well. You aren’t entirely sure how to act around him at the moment, because he seems so vulnerable and so sensitive to each brush against his body, leaning towards you each time like he can’t bear to be without contact despite the heat licking across his bones.

So you run away, just for a moment, just to give yourself enough time to process what's unfurling before your very eyes and the reasons as to why it's occurring. The humidity in the air is still stifling, even now the sun has begun to dip lower in the sky. A shivering sigh you didn’t even realise you were holding in is knocked from your lungs as the evening air enters them. It twists across your audience of none and sounds impossibly loud despite the bustle of nature all around you.

You somehow feel even more lost now than when you had started.

---

By the time you’ve loaded up on enough wood to make a decent campfire the temperature has dropped considerably. It breathes over your clammy skin mercifully, but does little to quell the heated thoughts plaguing your mind still. You waste no time in assembling a fire at the cave’s mouth. The sweat clinging to the back of your neck has cooled to a shivering kiss at this point, it dips its fingers down your spine as a breeze edges by you and licks across the flames. Rex’s groans of discomfort have lowered in pitch now, and they creep out from between the stones to settle deep in your stomach despite your increased attempts to bat them away. The uncomfortable heat building between your legs threatens to shackle them next to the fire, but the concern in your heart urges you forward to check on your injured soldier despite the heavy hesitation standing in your path. A particularly loud yelp proves to be the final push you need to shove you forward to a stumbled sprint.

What you find causes the remaining firewood in your hands to clatter noisily around your ankles. It splinters off towards the darker reaches of the caves to sit broken and forgotten while you stand slack jawed at the sight before you.

Rex lays writhing beneath your jacket, the material now wrung between the whitened knuckles of his fist as he bites down on it to try and smother his whimpering. It's become less of a blanket and more of a crude gag of sorts to cage his groans against. His blacks have been shed, they sit crumpled and hastily discarded across the cave’s floor. Rex is bare to your eyes, a tangle of panting breath and glistening, naked skin that almost appears to glow with the faint light of the campfire in the near distance. It serves to bathe him in copper, gilding his taunt muscles in a way that only emphasises the pure heat rolling off every inch of his body.

Your eyes rake over the whole shivering mess of him before you can bear to strip them away.

Your name all but wails from his lips once you can finally focus on how his gaze has locked onto you with a hunger - expression strained and apologetic, yet clouded with wide blown lust all the same. There's an echo of guilt that stirs your guts into knots, it screams at you as it bubbles over.

You should not be seeing this.

And yet you cannot look away now, your eyes drifting further down the valley of his stomach to where he grasps at himself. His wrist curls with each desperate jerk of his fist around his cock.

The coil winding inside you snaps to something hotter, yet your voice still fails you. It remains useless with an even greater intensity as he raises the same, glistening hand to smear it over his abdomen in a sparkling trail. He groans out your name again, something intelligible stumbling along behind it. The words are as jumbled as your thoughts.

“Mm-sorry. I tried to fight it but - but its too hot, m’burning-” Rex’s words slur together in a gasp. “Can’t, just can’t… fuck… I need you, need this, always needed…”

He trails off with another shaking moan as his hips canter and buck, body once again reminding him of the heat crawling over every one of his nerves.

“...I can’t, Rex.” He looks almost pitiful, but you can’t help but answer in a voice that’s stern, yet also too small in that moment for an officer of your capabilities. You try to keep your eyes trained on his upper half as you step closer, unsure if it's a thinly contained lust or concern fuelling your steps in that moment. The heat in your stomach billows higher the closer you get, and fuck - the waves of heat swelling from him seem almost contagious now.

Rex whines into your jacket in protest, and you can't help but ponder if this is truly the same steadfast soldier you thought you had known for months.

Against your screaming better judgement, you kneel down to check shaky fingers against his forehead. He leans desperately into the contact, but as quickly as the relief can flash across his face, it dies - replaced by a furrow of his brow and the straining of his arms as he so clearly fights to keep them pinned at his sides as you inch closer. There’s a new ache twisting in your heart over seeing him attempt to cling to the last shred of his composure, you think you can even make out the sparkle of frustrated tears gathering behind his lashes now.

“Oh, Rex…” Your words are carried on a whisper. The absurdity of your situation would have made you laugh if you were to have stumbled upon it in some sleazy holo-vid or novel, yet seeing the outcome of it play out in real life with someone you care for is gut wrenchingly frightening.

How long was this going to plague him? The thought of him twisting with an agony you cannot relieve makes your heart ache defeatedly, posture slumping to further accommodate the emotion burdening your form.

You sweep your hand down the slope of his cheekbone in an attempt to soothe him. His pulse thrums in his temple as your fingers skim over it in their path from his forehead. Surprise jumps in your stomach as he suddenly cocks his neck in order to softly catch your fingertips with the plush of his lips, pressing against them in a kiss that seems far too soft for how evidently worked up he is. The gentleness of the gesture contrasts with the harsh sigh of air that expels through his nose when your touch drifts away.

Those newly dangerous eyes lock with yours again, but he remains completely still now aside from the occasional shivers fluttering over his shoulders and the laboured rise and fall of his chest. You feel like you’re going to drown in them, but your legs refuse to step away. His gaze begins to roam as you stand paralysed beneath it, raking over your expression before settling at last on your lips. His tongue darts out to wet his own before he opens them to speak again, the vibrato of his voice feels damp against your skin despite the fact you’re no longer touching him.

“Please.”

His eyelids droop as he pushes the top half of his body forward into a bastardised mock-bow in front of you. Amber eyes cling to your own once again, their pupils still blown but his voice now regaining the sense of clarity that had been lost to him before.

“Please, I want this, I need this so badly-”

Your resolve finally snaps and you all but bruise his mouth in a kiss that sings of longing as much as it does unbearable desperation. You grasp his jaw tight in a clammy hold as your teeth clash together with the force of it all. His growl carries over your tongue once you slip the appendage into his mouth, though you can only bask in the tiny victory for a short moment before you’re all but choking on your surprise as Rex pounces and drags you down to the cool floor alongside him. It's as though he’s become revitalised by your touch and taste, arms caging you beneath a look so possessive that it shoots straight between your thighs. You can feel just how strong he is as he leans down to kiss you once more, the press of his broad chest against your captured self stealing the air from you in more ways than one. It's a body that has been engineered to fight and kill, one that is genetically identical to the thousands of brothers that take to the field alongside him each day of the war. Yet now as you battle against the force of him to run your fingernails through the blonde buzzcut atop his head and over the uneven surface of his scarred shoulders, you note that it's decorated with parts that are unique only to him.

There is only one Rex, and in this moment, you are as much his as he is yours.

And you want to help him through this, you do.

Your hands have barely begun to skim over the constellation of scars painted across his back before they’re pinned above your head as Rex begins to clumsily strip you, his teeth now finding purchase in the curve of your neck. Your head begins to spin again as your shirt is torn over your head and flung across the floor, both your undergarments and bottoms soon following alongside it. A gasp slips from you the moment your newly bare flesh makes contact with the chill of the cave floor, it pulls a shiver across your naked shoulders that only intensifies further when the heat of Rex’s mouth attaches itself to your skin again and again in a delicious contrast.

It's maddening, the pace he’s moving at. It’s as though he can’t dedicate too much time to one specific area of your body before his lust demands he move on to taste another. His palms are wide and impossibly hot against you as he grips your thighs with a battle hardened grip before spreading them unceremoniously. You yelp in surprise and push yourself up on your elbows the moment he does, limbs beginning to shake the moment hot breath fans over your core. There's a flash of what you believe is concern that darts across his eyes then, but it soon hardens as he takes in the sight of your parted lips and the flush that has spread down your throat. Rex clearly tries to keep his eyes trained on your expression as he lowers his attention to your cunt, but the moment the taste of you hits his tongue he can’t help but groan in relief, eyes fluttering closed as they threaten to roll back into his skull.

His closely-cropped hair gives you little to nothing to grip onto as the first wave of pleasure stutters over you, and you resolve to bunch your fists into the fabric of his blacks beneath your hips for support. He’s a messy eater, just like his kisses were moments beforehand. His teeth even threaten to graze you a few times as he nips at your inner thighs between each lathe of attention he flicks against your folds. It causes you to yelp in mild alarm each time he does before the sound is buried beneath your moans once more as soon as he finds a rhythm that he can work against you. Despite the way he’s currently growling into your pussy, he’s still clearly lucid enough to squeeze your thigh in what you think is apology each time, though the indents his nails leave behind beg otherwise.

Rex lazily fucks up into his hand as he tastes you, each vibrating groan stretched from within his throat only shooting further into your core. The flush in his cheeks blooms deeper now, and it peppers across the top of his chest in a ruby hue that only burns darker in the low light of the campfire. He looks beautiful, even in such a state as this, and you can’t help but cry out his name as he switches between sucking at your clit and circling it with the rough pad of his thumb.

“S’good.” Rex’s voice slurs as he whispers against you, letting out another deep groan of his own as he pushes a finger into you and watches you clench around it, your head falling back with a broken gasp. You can hear him audibly swallow at your reaction, it melts into a purr as he pulls back to marvel at his handiwork after bestowing another lingering swipe of his tongue across your thrumming bundle of nerves. A thin strand of slick and spit trails breaks away with the detachment of his lips and you moan at both the sight of him and the loss of his mouth’s contact. His other hand comes to rub circles into the muscle of your thigh and you can feel the precum slicking his fingers smear across your flesh before quickly cooling across the heated surface.

“So, so good for me. So gorgeous.”

His tone is gentle, reverent almost. It contrasts sharply with the way his hand inches to squeeze your inner thigh as the other curls a finger experimentally within you. It truly feels as though the tables have been turned on you now, and it's your turn to muffle the sob that bubbles up your throat with your hand, back arching at the feeling of his thick finger stretching and rubbing the inside of your walls and the praise rolling off his tongue. The pace of his wrist is slow enough to have your toes curling, but not enough to push you over the edge to where you desperately needed to be.

He appears to forget his desperation for a moment longer, continuing to sit back on his haunches to admire your expressions with a hint of a lopsided smile as you all but fuck yourself on his hand. Another strangled moan leaves you then, and it's this one that finally seems to break whatever trance he has drifted off into, the hunger filling his eyes once more to take the place of the love-sick adoration that had graced them before. You drawl out his name needily, that all too familiar heat that you had first experienced when you found him on Felucia’s surface blazing over your nerves with a higher intensity than before. He finally snaps once again and lurches forward to bite into another kiss, hands now taking a bruising hold on your hips. Your chest hitches with the emptiness you feel once his fingers leave you, though the press of his body above your own makes quick work of ceasing your squirming. His skin is boiling, the full weight of him almost suffocatingly hot and heavy as he brands you into the cave floor. You find your legs hooking over his hips on instinct, hands gripping onto his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself from the sensations bombarding you. The ambience of the outside world has silenced itself to you now, all you can focus on are the wet sounds of your mouths meeting in a series of breathless kisses and the beat of your pulse in your ears.

You inadvertently bite down on his bottom lip as he begins to rut his lower half against you, resulting in another low growl and an increased force in the jerk on his hips. Both of you moaning at how the length of his cock slides against the slick of your sex with each grinding movement.

“Rex… please.” You are the one begging this time, uncurling your newfound grip on his shoulders to begin creeping it down his abdomen. He allows you the freedom to do this, but keens into the crook of your neck once your fingers wrap around his cock and begin to guide it blindly towards your entrance. “Please, please, please…!”

Your mindless mantra cuts off abruptly as he finally presses his hips forward and sheathes himself completely within you in an aching push. The action knocks the wind from your lungs and stretches your mouth wide in a silent scream, but your eyes never leave his own the whole time. Despite the sudden rush of relief and the cloud of pheromones threatening to blind you, beneath his wall of tightly wound muscle and feral lust you sense a tinge of nervousness still. Shakily, you reach a hand to cup his cheek tenderly as you attempt to adjust to the size of him all the while.

“Fuck.” It’s all you can manage to spit out as he slowly begins to withdraw from you, the head of his cock scraping against your walls in a way that has your head lolling back and vision spinning. He’s a stretch, but he slots so perfectly back inside you with each purposeful thrust in a way no other has ever done before. It’s a real struggle to catch your breath before Rex begins canting his hips forward with an instinctive fever, his hands pulling up your lower body to meet with his thrusts as you lay limp with pleasure beneath him. His cock throbs so intensely that you can feel it, even through the harshness of the pace he’s set. The pattern of his hips is largely uneven, jerking between quick, shallow thrusts to slower, deeper movements that sink his cock so deeply within you that your clit kisses against his pubic bone in a way that has you clawing at his shoulders once more. You can’t tell if this is due to inexperience or the overwhelming pleasure shooting through him as you attempt to grind upwards against him, but the way he sinks his teeth into your neck in such a way that you know he’ll leave a mark reminds you that you don’t care either way.

Rex’s entire body purrs against you as he releases a hand from your hip to paw at your chest, mouth trailing sloppy kisses from the quickly forming bruise on your throat to paint your collarbone in shades of puce and violet. Soon you’ve all but folded around him like a love letter, one that is signed with strings of mumbled mando’a painted across your skin with each thrust that shakes your body. You’re confident your nails are leaving their own angry red marks across his shoulder blades as you try to tug him even closer and arch up against him when he pinches a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It’s all so messy and primal, with the heat of him crawling into your very lungs with each gasp he pushes out of you as he splits you open.

The wet slap of your bodies meeting is almost obscene as it echoes around the cave, the sound only punctured further with the whines and groans of the people responsible for it. Your head leans back into the cooling embrace of the stone floor once more, content to lose yourself to the hazy pleasure swimming in the air as Rex’s thrusts pick up in intensity.

You’re snapped out of your lustful fog when his palm cups the side of your face with an unexpected tenderness that conflicts with the fortified hold he has looped around your lower back. Your eyes snap back open to full alertness, and instantly meet with a gaze that is so focused that you feel it could cut down to peer into your very soul itself if it wanted to. Rex’s expression is almost predatory despite the tenderness with which he cradles your cheek, teeth obviously clenched along with every muscle in his jaw and upper body - and yet his eyes themselves look upon you as though you are the most beautiful being in the Galaxy despite your sweat-slickened face and the thick tears of pleasure that threaten to slip down your mottled cheeks.

The way his blonde tint of hair halos around his head and the shadows dance over the chiselled contours of his body make him look more myth than man, glowing and golden and impossibly powerful above you. But a strangled moan of your name as he brushes his thumb against your cheek reminds you that he is indeed as mortal as yourself.

You’re coming before you can even realise it.

Your orgasm is the type that whites out the world around you until only you and Rex remain, rolling over your whole body in waves that have you clenching around him so hard that his own movement is forced to still with the intensity of it, the weight of him locking you into place beneath him. Your legs quiver so hard that they border on aching as you throw your arms around his neck and scream silently into the crook of his shoulder, ears ringing in such a way that drowns out everything bar the sound of your lovemaking.

The spike of your pulse is so loud that you nearly miss the way he all but shouts your name as he reaches his climax right behind your own, the syllables encased within the stream of a low moan. His voice dips in a way you’ve never heard from him before as he releases deep inside of you in impossibly thick ropes that warm you from the inside out. It's choked on its own emotion as his hips give out a few weak, final thrusts that force more of his cum to pool out from your twitching cunt. He sobs something you can’t decipher into your neck as he loops both arms around your torso to tug you close, but you still feel the words humming over your oversensitive nerves with a vibration that bubbles into goosebumps across your shoulders and back.

The chill of the cave floor is soothing rather than biting against your spent limbs, and it only beckons forth your fatigue more as you relax against it. Your lower half remains practically sat in his lap, buried to the hilt even as your orgasm tapers off into a pleasant buzz. His cum continues to dribble down between you in syrupy trickles as you attempt to catch your breath, chest still heaving and hips burning in the most delightful way.

Rex’s head remains nestled in the crook of your neck even after you manage to raise a shaky arm to brush your digits across the fuzzy texture of his hair. He nuzzles against the particularly dark mark he had sucked into your flesh, panting words of endearment against you all the while.

“So perfect, just wanna keep you here - fuck - stay inside of you forever.”

It takes more strength than you would like to admit to raise yourself off the ground enough to coax him out from under your chin. You brush a feather-light touch across the line of his jaw before you steal away a kiss that’s the most gentle of the night, it's one that sings of untold feelings and creeping thoughts that sting when you pull back.

Even so, it's lazy and loving and Rex groans appreciatively into it, a sigh escaping through his nose as though you have breathed the life right back into him.

Lust quickly creeps back to cloud his vision once he props himself up to stare down at you again. His gaze openly flows over the sight of you splayed out and still stuffed full of him. A rumbled growl bubbles from behind his teeth as he worries them over his swollen lower lip, the sound shooting straight to your cunt once more and causing you to roll your tired hips against his without even thinking. An affectionate chuckle slips past his smirk and his face creases into something more familiar, more befitting of the Rex you had always known - though the fire in his eyes still continues to burn with the intensity of the man who had just fucked you senseless minutes prior.

“Sorry, Cyar’ika,” Rex’s voice is thick and ragged as he speaks, his accent sharpening the words almost dangerously. Warmth blooms and spreads within your chest, the feeling sliding downwards in tandem with his hands against your sides before they eventually settle firmly on your hips with a familiar grip.

“I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

#captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #captain rex #rex x reader #clone wars reader insert #clone wars imagine #this took forever #it just kept going before i could stop it #mine #rex

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