Keigo Breeding Kink

on the fwb topic.. could i request a tenya one but the way he acts with yn is like nothing like just fwb 😍😿😭😻🥰😻 thank you wink

crying lightening

i.tenya

-your friend with benefits comes with wayyy more benefits.

frankly iida thinks you're a bitch and it makes him a little hard when he thinks about it

this request ! fem ! reader , period mentions , swearing

"katsuki... i said 'pads with wings'."

trying to explain to your angry and embarrassed boyfriend what the difference was with pads with wings, and pads with chicken wings. clearly, katsuki didn't know about the former, and had assumed you wanted normal pads and a box of chicken wings. naturally, he had internally questioned the correlation between the two items, but he knew better than to question what you want.

"thats what i fuckin' bought ya! yer pads and wings, so what the fuck are ya laughin' bout??!" katsuki scowled, slamming the pads and box of wings onto the counter and glaring at you. he was embarrassed at how long you had been laughing at him, but he didn't understand what you found so funny about the situation.

once you had stopped laughing, you showed katsuki a picture of pads with wings on your phone, watching the realisation dawn on his face. his cheeks turned an angry red and he immediately began to try and defend himself, claiming that he 'knew what you meant but he wanted to mess with you.' snatching the box of wings from the table, he stormed out of the room, huffing that he was going to eat them.

the next time you send katsuki out to go get you pads, he returns with the correct pads, and a basket full of snacks and your favourite drinks. not to mention, he also brings ingredients to make your own wings, since he claimed that the wings from last time tasted like shit, and that he could make them a hundred times better himself.

you knew he just wanted to spend more time with you when you weren't feeling great on your period and give you something fun to do, but you kept your mouth shut and joined him in the kitchen.

was not aware that tumblr would fw sumiko like that lol HEEYYYYYYY

here’s some screencaps i made

He Goes Through Your Phone

Bakugo x reader

Tags: Mostly fluff and crack with a touch of angst

Comments mean the world to me <33

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Katsuki doesn’t like to admit it, but trust doesn’t come easy to him. He overthinks everything, even when he’s sure he shouldn’t. That’s why you and he agreed on an open phone policy—it gave him a little extra peace of mind. And honestly? You didn’t mind. If scrolling through your phone every now and then made him feel better, then so be it.

Tonight, though, something’s clearly off. He walks into your shared room, already looking more wound up than usual. Without a word, he flops down onto the bed next to you and rests his head on your shoulder.

“Brat, can I see your phone?” he asks, his tone clipped.

You scoff, flicking his forehead. “Excuse me?”

He groans and tries again. “Babe, can I see your phone? Please?”

“That’s better,” you say with a smirk, handing it over. He sits up a little, unlocking it with his face—a feature you set up just for him.

Katsuki stretches out on his back, holding the phone above his face. “What weird shit have you been up to lately?” he mutters under his breath, scrolling through your apps.

He starts with your messages. Nothing. Moves to your search history. That’s when you see his face twitch.

“‘Do men get hormonal monthly like girls?’” he reads aloud, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “‘Why is my boyfriend so angry and moody?’” His crimson eyes snap to you, full of accusation. “‘What’s the equivalent to a period for a man?’”

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh, but it slips through anyway. “I mean, those are valid questions,” you tease, shrugging.

“Valid, huh?” he grumbles, giving you a sharp side-eye. “You trying to diagnose me or something?”

“I’m just saying,” you say, poking his cheek. “You’re an emotional guy, Katsuki. And by emotional, I mean sassy. And moody.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t press it. It’s clear he’s just messing with you—until he opens your camera roll.

At first, he’s quiet. Too quiet. Then, he freezes, staring at the screen before sitting up again. “What the fuck?”

You glance over, curious. “What’s wrong?”

“Why do you have so many pictures of me sleeping?” he demands, holding the phone up like it’s evidence of a crime.

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Because I’m creepy.”

He stares at you, unimpressed.

“Okay, fine,” you say with a grin, ruffling his blonde hair. “You’re cute when you’re asleep. It’s the only time you’re not yelling or breaking things.”

“Dumbass,” he mutters, turning back to your phone. He keeps scrolling—and then he freezes again.

This time, his reaction is even louder. “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”

You flinch at the sudden outburst. “What’s what?”

“THIS!” He shoves the phone in your face, pointing to the screen. “Why the hell do you have a whole folder of shirtless anime guys?!”

Oh. That.

You try to stifle a laugh, but his expression is priceless. “Katsu, it’s not that serious!”

“Not that serious?!” he snaps, holding the phone like it’s evidence of betrayal. “Why do you have so many?!”

“They’re just cartoons!” you say, trying to keep a straight face. “It’s not a big deal!”

“Not a big deal?!” he shoves the phone under the pillow, out of your reach. “Okay, how the hell would you feel if I had a whole ass folder of big titty anime Bitches, huh?”

You blink, trying to process the comparison. “That’s—”

“Don’t.” He glares at you like you’ve already proven his point.

“Babe, come on, it’s not—”

“Don’t talk to me right now,” he growls, rolling over to face the wall.

You stare at him for a moment, torn between laughing and apologizing. His ears are red, his posture stiff, and you can tell he’s genuinely bothered—even if it’s ridiculous. You settle for gently poking his side.

“Katsu…”

“Shut up,” he mumbles, his voice muffled.

You sigh. “I get it , okay? I’ll delete the folder.”

You sigh, leaning your forehead against Bakugo’s back as he stubbornly ignores you. “You know you’re being a baby right now, Katsuki.”

“I’m not being a fucking baby,” he snaps, his voice muffled by the pillow.

He suddenly sits up, turning to glare at you with that familiar fiery expression. “My girlfriend is out here looking at other guys on the internet!”

You blink, unimpressed. “Katsuki, they’re literally two-dimensional. They’re not even real people. Jesus, get a grip.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he retorts, crossing his arms. “Am I not attractive to you or something?”

That’s when you lose it. A laugh bubbles out of you, and the sheer ridiculousness of the situation makes it impossible to stop.

His scowl deepens, his crimson eyes narrowing at you. “Oh, wow. You’re laughing. Wow. If the roles were reversed, I’d be six feet under by now.”

You try to rein it in, grabbing his shoulders to steady yourself. “Katsu,” you say between giggles, “you are my gorgeous baby boy.”

“I DON’T FEEL GORGEOUS RIGHT NOW!” he shouts, his face turning red as he glares at you.

You burst out laughing again, and his jaw tightens. “Oh, great. You’re really laughing at me now. Just wow.” He flops back onto the bed dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Do you hate my body or something?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, no!” you exclaim, exasperated. “You’re never this insecure, Katsuki. Where the hell is all this coming from?”

He lifts his arm just enough to glare at you. “It’s coming from the fact that my girl is looking at shirtless guys!”

“Shirtless fictional two-dimensional FICTONAL guys,” you correct with a smirk.

“Oh, I’m sooooo fucking sorry,” he says, sitting up again to stare daggers at you. “Let me correct myself. My girlfriend is looking at shirtless drawings of dudes with male anatomy! Cuz that’s soooo different!”

“Exactly!” you quip, but the humor fades a bit when you see the genuine hurt in his eyes.

“Even though,” he continues, his voice rising, “her real, breathing, jacked as hell boyfriend is right here!”

You frown, your heart sinking. His tone may be harsh, but his shoulders are tense, and it’s clear this is more than just him being annoyed.

“Katsu…” you start, but he cuts you off.

“And I haven’t heard a single real apology out of your mouth,” he mutters, rolling back over to lay on his stomach, face down in the bed like he’s done with the conversation.

You sigh, leaning down to rest your chin on his back. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to make you feel like this.” You gently run your fingers through his hair, hoping to soothe him. “You’re gorgeous, okay? Like, drop-dead gorgeous. Those guys don’t even exist, but you? You’re real, you’re mine, and no one else even compares.”

His shoulders tense, but he doesn’t say anything. You press a kiss to the back of his neck. “You’re the only one I want, Katsu. Always.”

he mutters, “You better delete that stupid folder.”

You smile. “Already gone.”

You run your fingers gently through Katsuki’s blonde hair, your voice soft as you ask, “Do you still love me?”

He mutters into the mattress, “Not sure.”

“Katsuki…” you say, a little more firmly.

He groans, rolling his head to the side so he can look at you, still sprawled out on his stomach. His crimson eyes narrow slightly, but the hurt is still faintly there. “I guess I still love you... I suppose,” he sighs dramatically. “But just so you know, you’re gonna be on my shit list for the next few weeks.”

You snicker despite yourself, but he keeps going. “And, for the rest of the week, I’m gonna need you to address me as ‘My Lord’ or ‘Dynamite God.’”

“I’m not doing that,” you say flatly, your fingers weaving soothingly through his messy blond hair.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “Then I’ll settle for you telling me everything that’s awesome about me.”

You giggle, leaning closer. “Well, for starters, you’re incredibly handsome.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, clearly enjoying this. “And?”

“You’re very powerful, super strong… and everyone else just sucks compared to you.”

“Damn right,” he smirks. “Keep going.”

“You have really pretty eyes,” you say, smiling as you watch his expression soften. “Red’s my favorite color, you know.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he hums, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “What else?”

“You make me laugh, you’re sweet—”

He shoots you a sharp look. “Sweet? Sweet? You and I both know that’s a damn lie.”

“Okay, okay,” you concede, laughing. “You’re… very considerate of my feelings.”

“Just like you’re very inconsiderate of mine!” he fires back with a huff.

“Quit it,” you say, moving your hand to rub slow circles on his back. “What about the goods? You wanna hear about your body now?”

“Damn right I do,” he says, turning his head fully to face you, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well,” you start, dragging it out just to tease him, “I love your hands. I love your voice, your hair, your chest… and your abs.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking smug. “Go on.”

“You’re so yummy,” you say with a little grin, leaning down to kiss the side of his face.

“Yeah, but you still look at shirtless dudes on the internet,” he mutters backhandedly, though the playful tone is there now.

“Come on, Katsuki. Are we still on this?”

“Fine,” he says, rolling onto his side and giving you a pointed look.

“And I love you,” you add softly, leaning closer. “So much.”

He groans like he’s annoyed, but before you can say anything else, he grabs you and pulls you flush against his chest. His arms lock around you in a tight hug that makes you squeal as he buries his face in your neck.

“Oh, and by the way,” he murmurs against your skin, “if I catch you doing that shit again, I’m blowing up your phone.”

You open your mouth to reply, but he silences you with a big, warm kiss, his lips pressing firmly against yours. When he finally pulls back, he smirks down at you.

“Got it, brat?”

“Got it,” you whisper, smiling.

@itsafairytalekay @redr0sewrites @dekusdante @starlightanyaaa @sillysushi @anemo-fandango @tropelovingpainter @themultifandomgirl @eis1kitsune @yumii-34 @dekusdante @hearts4tsuki @niktwazny303 @sonufabitchhhhh @kodzubaby @harryzcherry @seimeizuru @m3nt4lly1ll1 @misaki-kira8 @pretty-sparkle-bomb @yandere-fetish @bakunianadecorazon @kxllanxtdoor @rikislove @sagejin

i really think having an emotional connection is so important to bakugou sexually.

like, i think he has to be in the exact right mood in order to get off by himself at home alone. can't be too tired, can't be too stressed out, can't have too much on his mind regarding work or other things, and even if it's been a while and his body is sensitive and wanting for it—if his head is not right, he can sit there for hours and never reach his peak.

which is why i think ultimately he doesn't do it that often, because it pisses him off to waste the time and not find the release. makes him more agitated. i think porn for the most part doesn't help him because he's too picky, literature probably helps a bit more, but he's still picky, and his imagination can get him there, but his headspace has to be right.

i think he's slow to hands-on stuff, when your relationship starts, and you can tell he's going to be like that pretty quickly. he responds to your touch like it's an accident; you reach out to hold his hand and he pulls his back like your knuckles have knocked by chance, like you're too close. it's not meant to be a rejection of any kind, it's just—he doesn't want you to touch him if you don't want to. if you don't mean to.

but when he realizes that you mean to, that you want to—

it has him skyrocketing. surprises him terribly, the affect you have on his body, and how quickly, because not even he can always have that affect on his own body.

you reach up to push some hair out of his face and your fingers skirt his cheekbone and he feels like a stupid gross disgusting puddle of mush. you loop your arm through his and lean into him while you're walking and he feels like a prize, like he's yours and you're his and you want everybody to know and that gives him a rush of pride that makes his head woozy.

he's dropping you off at home after date number he-doesn't-know and you're staring up at him outside your front door and he knows he should kiss you so he does and his whole body lights up with a heat he doesn't recognize at all. just from that.

and then he finally gets it: that heart-aching, stomach turning, body shaking want he's only ever heard about, and now finally feels.

Fang... fang... more megumi boypussy..... more megumi boypussy PLEEAAAAASE.... 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️

no thoughts head empty only thinking of innocently offering to help him masturbate bc he wants to try penetration but gets nervous trying to put anything in there

he’s tight and too sensitive and gets too worked up to do it right. makes him soooo huffy and frustrated. you’re close to him in some way and you come over and catch him with his shorts at his ankles—shivering while he runs his fingers through his slit.

when you walk into his room he yells at you to get out but you just close the door behind you and sit on the edge of his bed. you don’t really know how else to describe the feeling, just a compulsion rlly. you end up sweet talking him into letting you see. too needy to refuse you properly. takes his shorts off all the way and spreads his legs for you.

you’re gentle when you climb ontop to finger him. he tries not to show that it feels good but it’s so easy to tell. cream colored skin dusted with pink, all raspy knees and slender limbs—the pale plane of his belly going taut, chest trembling as he breathes shakily. you figure if he’s letting you go that far, it might not hurt to push your limits.

he yelps in surprise when you kiss him, easily melting away any other defenses. gasps nice and loud when you trail down to kiss the curve of his jaw, nip at his collarbone. you take the risk and play with his nipples too—they’re just to tempting and it makes him arch his back so nice.

all foreplay and touching all the places he can’t reach himself making him so, so desperate. his thighs clench up around your wrist, arm across his face just embarrassed. it feels weird. good but so weird—different to how he normally cums. comes from somewhere deeper, it’s so overwhelming. and your targeting the exact place he wants it, like you just know.

he lets a needy plea to touch his clit too, when he gets close. when you bend down and latch your mouth to his clit, he cries out. it feels so good he gets scared, tells you to get off because it feels weird. not like how it usually does.

of course you’re not really listening. but he’s been so wet the entire time you’ve been stretching his cunt open on two fingers, you’re not taken aback when he squirts all over your hand and mouth. it feels so good but god he wants the ground to swallow him up it’s so embarrassing.

earns you a very light kick in the stomach afterwards, socked feet pushing against you as he tells you to die and get out of his room.

but when you grab him by the ankle and offer to make him feel even better, he can’t find it in him to refuse.

BY THE BOOK : MIDORIYA IZUKU X READER

SUMMARY: When your pro hero boyfriend comes home to find you studying, he suddenly takes a great interest in helping out. You find his methods... questionable. TAGS/WARNINGS: nsft, hysterical literature (reading out loud while sexually stimulated), pro hero deku, deku still has ofa, support tech grad student reader, slight intelligence kink, gn + afab reader, cunnilingus, established relationship, aged up characters, fluff (3k) NOTES: Hi guys! I have been in survival mode as of late and the writing has been slow going; my sincerest apologies for how long it’s taking me to burn down my @ficsforgaza backlog. But I finally had the time & energy on my hands this weekend to work on this one and I had such a blast!! I hope I’m not too rusty–and if I am, I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it regardless lol. Love you and thank you always for your patience. Happy Holidays!!

Sometimes, you thought you could tell your boyfriend was near, even before you heard his key in the lock.

It was something to do with his power, you’d always suspected—as a support engineer unduly interested in other people’s capabilities, you’d spent hundreds of hours turning it over in your head. It was the unnatural immensity of other people’s powers, you thought, pulling and coiling just beneath the surface of Izuku’s skin. In close proximity, after prolonged use, its presence felt like a shiver up the back of your neck.

You felt the barest hint of it now, an unsettled feeling creeping into the marrow of your bones, and you sat up on the couch just as you heard the scratch of Izuku’s keys at the door.

One For All fit cleanly into Izuku’s own unwavering intensity somehow, like the last piece of his puzzle. Though one would certainly never think so looking at him as he spilled through the door, pink-cheeked from the cold, all bright eyes, sweetly angelic features, and a riot of wild green curls. He looked windswept from the biting winter breeze. He also looked too kind to be carrying the sort of power he did—too sweet and eager and lovely.

“Look what the wind blew in,” you grinned at him over the back of the couch, after assessing he was well. Your eyes tracked the sinuous movement of those broad shoulders as he yanked his mouthguard over his head, the flex and pull of his bicep as he hung it beside the door. He was moving without pause, no sign of injury or muscle strain , and his suit was intact. Ordinarily you didn’t mind if there was a bit of shredding about the abs as long as he came back to you whole and hale, but in the winter you didn’t like him wandering about risking the chance of frostbite.

Your heart fluttered when Izuku returned your smile with one of his own, so beautiful and bright, chasing away the cold he’d tracked in like a warm sliver of sun.

“Lots of small, easy fights today?” You guessed, judging from his intact suit but clear whiff of power about him.

Izuku scrubbed a hand through that riot of curls, exposing the reddened shell of a cold ear. “I only had to use blackwhip a couple of times,” he said as he shouldered the door closed behind him, the muscle of his thighs flexing enticingly as he stepped out of his boots.

You gestured at the pot of soup you’d left warming on the stove, and the veritable pile of crusty bread beside it. Warmth and carbs, exactly what you would have wanted if you were a pro hero fresh off a long day of patrolling in the snow.

Izuku’s eyes fixed on it with an obliging amount of interest, and he almost tripped over himself in the genkan in his haste to get to the kitchen. “I love you,” you heard him say, muffled through a mouthful of bread, heard the clatter of the silverware drawer and a bowl being placed on the counter.

You smiled and turned back to the book in your lap, a particularly dry, knotty text on robotic imitation learning that had had your eyes drifting closed for the better part of an hour. It was the last you’d need to get through for your Wearable Technologies graduate course, and something you were deeply interested in incorporating into your design practice. You could train a piece of equipment on how an individual pro hero moved and deployed their quirk, and use predictive modeling to deploy assistance functionalities within milliseconds if you got it right—such as immediate cooling in pro hero Shouto’s temperature vest the moment he ignited an arm.

The implementation was going to be so cool—but the theory was so mind numbing.

You felt the couch sink in beside your feet, and Izuku peered interestedly at the title in your lap.

“Introduction to Robotic Imitation Learning,” he echoed, and you could hear the note of excitement in his voice. You suppressed a fond smile, knowing he was already thinking through the same applications you had—he was just as much of a nerd as you were.

“Introduction to Snoozing and Napping,” you grumbled, turning back to your page. “There are only so many words on the Kalman filter framework a brain can handle before the human mind shuts itself down.”

Izuku hummed in interest around a spoonful of soup, propping himself up against your leg. The exterior of his suit was still cool from the outside, and he groaned with relief from the warmth of your skin, even as you hissed at the chill.

You knew he wanted you to go on, so you generalized for him. “It’s an algorithm used for robotic motion planning—you not only take measurements of the thing you want to model but you account for uncertainties to predict the probability that something is going to happen.”

Izuku nodded, taking another spoonful of soup, gesturing for you to go on.

You summoned up the willpower to explain joint probability distribution, pleased when Izuku easily managed to follow—he’d always been a quick study, especially of anything that could be employed in the service of heroics. You’d long thought if he hadn’t been gifted his quirk, he would be an insane support engineer.

He managed to finish his entire bowl of soup in the time it took you to explain, and housed another two slices of buttered bread with the sort of alacrity you’d only ever seen in pro heroes and professional athletes, making you smile while you spoke.

His spoon clinked softly against the edge of the bowl as he set them aside on the coffee table, and he hooked his chin over your knees as you finished explaining. In the setting sun from your windows he looked especially lovely, the kind, angular planes of his face brushed in gold, softening the spots of his freckles.

His eyes were especially bright, the way they always were when something in particular had caught his interest, and he smiled at you again over the tops of your knee caps.

“I admire how smart you are,” he told you, in the simple, straightforward way he always gave out compliments. It was like a shot to the heart every time, and you could feel your face warm with the praise even after years of receiving similar compliments.

You reflexively flapped a dismissive hand. “Not smart enough to have internalized it all! I have mostly been falling asleep to it,” you promised him.

He tilted his head, a green curl falling into his eyes. “I know you won’t have a problem when you’re awake.”

You shifted your legs with embarrassment, and a long fingered hand came up to cup the front of your thigh, as Izuku turned more fully towards you. You could feel the warm, hard planes of his chest against your shins, the line of his jumpsuit’s zipper pressing insistently just below your knee.

“Gotta try to impress you somehow,” you joked, your skin prickling as Izuku’s fingers absent-mindedly drew a pattern across your thigh. You could feel the heat of his hand through the thin material of the leggings you’d lounged around in all day, the chill finally chased away from his skin now that he’d come inside and warmed up.

“You do impress me,” he said in his soft, gentle tone. Which made your cheeks and nose burn hotter.

You knew you did, and the steady faith Izuku had in the people around him was one of your favorite things about him. It still made you feel like a middle schooler with a crush to think about, though, the intensity of your feelings too much for one body to handle.

“I will study hard to live up to your faith in me,” you promised, unable to help the goofy smile you knew you were giving him.

Izuku’s chin shifted against the tops of your knees, and he pressed his mouth to the knob of your left one, leaving a smiling kiss. “Tell me more?” he asked, fingers still sliding softly over your thigh.

“I’ll read it to you as I go, then,” you said, turning back to the brick of a tome, propping it up more firmly on your stomach as you adjusted yourself against the couch arm. Izuku’s eyes watched you over the top of the pages, that emerald gaze tracking your face closely.

“‘The algorithm works via a two-phase process: a prediction phase and an update phase’,” you began, trying to turn your attention away from Izuku and back to the text. “‘In the prediction phase, the Kalman filter produces estimates of the current state variables, including their uncertainties. Once the outcome of the next measurement (necessarily corrupted with some error, including random noise) is observed, these estimates are updated using a weighted average, with more weight given to estimates with greater certainty.’”

Izuku’s long fingers traced firmer lines across your thighs, almost like he was taking notes. He layered another kiss along the line of your knee, eyes glittering at you as you read.

“‘The algorithm is recursive,’” you continued, “‘It can operate in real time, using only the present input measurements and the state calculated previously and its uncertainty matrix; no additional past information is required.’”

You almost jumped as Izuku’s mouth trailed lower, into the space between your knees, leaving kisses along your inner thigh. His fingers gently pulled one thigh away to make space for him in between, and you cleared your throat, trying to return to the text at hand.

“‘Optimality of Kalman filtering assumes that errors have a normal–that is, Gaussian–distribution,’” you read on. “‘The following assumptions are made about random processes: Physical random phenomena may be thought of as due to primary random sources exciting dynamic systems. The primary sources are assumed to be independent gaussian random processes with zero mean; the dynamic systems will be linear.’”

Izuku let out a soft breath, insinuating himself further between your thighs. Your own breath came out a little uneven as he bent over you, mouth tracking dangerously towards the inseam of your leggings.

You paused, but Izuku fixed you with a look of his slightly-darkened eyes. “Please—keep reading,” he said, his tone a little lower than it had been a minute ago.

You swallowed in shocked understanding, skin tingling. You felt yourself nod, as Izuku’s fingers strayed to the waist of your pants, dipping below the band.

You let him slowly peel your leggings down, your underwear with them, adjusting as needed to make it easy for him, even as you tried to return your attention to your textbook.

“‘Regardless of Gaussianity, however, if the process and measurement covariances are known, then the Kalman filter is the best possible linear estimator in the minimum mean-square-error sense,’” you quoted, nearly squeaking when Izuku pressed his mouth to your hip, his curls tickling the skin of your belly. His hands gripped either side of your thighs, palms square and rough against your skin, and you tried not to shiver with the feeling.

“Um—‘Although there may be better nonlinear estimators’,” you said, then nearly jumped out of your skin when Izuku pressed his mouth to the core of you, only the strength of his grip stopping you from accidentally kicking him in surprise.

“Oh my g—uh! It—um—‘It is a common misconception perpetuated in the literature that the Kalman filter cannot be rigorously applied unless all noise processes are assumed to be Gaussian,’” you managed, before your cut off into a groan as Izuku layered a hot, sweet kiss over you, tongue dipping carefully between your folds. “Ah-–Izuku—”

Izuku petted a thumb gently over the top of your thigh to show he was listening, even as he swiped his tongue over you again, a long, firm stroke that had your thighs flexing in his hold. He laved over your clit, sucking ever so slightly, and your grip almost tore the edge of your textbooks as it tightened.

“Keep going,” he urged briefly, then did it again, punching a groan out of you.

“Extensions—oh—‘Extensions and generalizations of the method have also been developed, such as the extended Kalman filter and the unscented Kalman filter which work on nonlinear systems,’” you read on, voice shooting up nearly into a squeal when two of Izuku’s long, firm fingers pressed into you, as his mouth moved over you again.

“Ah! Oh my god—the—um, the basis—-” you said, breath growing short. Izuku’s fingers unerringly found the spot inside you that made you twist in his grip with the ease of long practice, and his jaw worked as he kissed you so shockingly filthily. You could feel something already starting to build up behind your navel, a fluttery lightness, an insatiable insistence on more.

“‘The basis a hidden Markov model—oh, fuck—such that the state space of the latent variables is continuous and all latent and observed variables have–ah!--Gaussian distributions,’’’ you recited, your voice tripping up further into a register that sounded more like begging than reading.

Izuku’s fingers worked you, long and thick and perfect inside you, as his tongue drew unrelenting circles around your clit. Stars seemed to spark in your vision, and your eyes squeezed shut, losing your place on the page as your hips flexed into his face. You felt suddenly very floaty and lightheaded, and not at all in a position to keep going.

Still, you tried to refocus your attention.

“‘K–Kalman filtering has been used successfully in—oh—multi-sensor fusion—ah, ah!--and distributed sensor networks–fuck, please, Izuku—to develop distributed or consensus Kalman f-filtering,’” you said, your tone nearly a cry.

Izuku groaned softly, sucking gently as his fingers curled inside you. It made your veins spark under your skin, your legs shaking in Izuku’s hands. You abandoned your grip on your book to seize the arm of the couch, clawing desperately at the fabric.

“Please, Izuku,” you cried, hips bucking towards his mouth.

The book tumbled off your stomach but you hardly noticed, gaze refocusing on the way his eyelashes fluttered as he licked you. His fingers played gently within you, a maddening press that was simultaneously too much and not enough, and his other hand came up to slide under your sweater, plucking gently at your nipple.

You lost yourself to the feeling—caught between the mind-melting curl of his fingers, the delicate suction of his mouth, and the careful pinch of your nipple. A delicious heat curled through you, waves of unbearable pleasure, and you could hear yourself babbling nonsense—garbled syllables of Izuku’s name, and every entreaty you could think of, a hundred thousands mores and oh pleases.

Izuku abandoned your nipple to pull you more firmly against him with a strong arm curled under your thigh, pressing you even harder into his mouth.

You muffled a scream in the sleeve of your sweater as he sucked you harder, tongue laving over you in loving strokes. Only his terrible strength held you down as you writhed beneath him, and then his fingers twisted in a way that had your vision whiting out—and you were suddenly thrown out over the edge of your pleasure.

Izuku licked you through it as you squirmed and begged and cried out his name, your climax seeming to last for eons.

You were panting hard when you finally slumped into the cushions of your couch, the ceiling seeming to swim in and out of focus before your eyes. When you gained enough control of your body again you looked down at Izuku, finding him watching you with a satisfied, almost shy curl to his mouth.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you, emerald gaze glittering with sincerity. “You’re so smart.”

Impossibly you felt your heart swell with even more love for him, and you seized his shoulder, dragging him up over you so you could kiss his mouth. The taste of yourself on him was embarrassing yet thrilling, and you petted a pleased hand through Izuku’s wild mess of curls as you kissed him.

“Well you are amazing,” you told him, swiping a thumb over his cheek fondly, smoothing over his freckles. A gorgeous watercolor of pink washed over his cheeks and nose at the proclamation, and you could hear his fingers flex in the cushion beside your head.

The sight of him flushed and waiting over you like another small something inside of you, like a pilot light, and you let your mouth pull into a wry grin.

“I hope you know I learned nothing though,” you said casually, your plan for your next steps already forming in your head. You let a hand trail carefully down Izuku’s flank, tracking towards his waist. “I think maybe I might need a few rounds for it to really sink in.”

Izuku’s ears went red against the green of his hair, and you felt your smile widen. “Maybe you could read it to me this time?” you asked, guiding him to roll under you, retrieving your book from the floor as you did so.

You settled yourself on the tops of Izuku’s thighs, feeling the hard press of him against your core, as you placed your textbook into his waiting hands.

Izuku’s answering smile was all the permission you needed. You directed him to start from the beginning of the chapter, and he did so in that soft, lilting tone of his you so loved. And then your fingers trailed up to the zipper at his collar.

It was time to return the favor—wholeheartedly.

REFERENCES: Kalman Filtering (Wikipedia) I took the passages our Reader recited from here because I do not actually understand Kalman filtering at all and could not organically come up with feasible text for her to read through. Sorry in advance to the author of this page lol.

The creature who fell in love with the light

[Watercolor and gouache, based on ‘The Fog Horn’ by Ray Bradbury]