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dollwrites · 1 year

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𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 — 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!housekeeper!reader, this is a dark fic, dub con, power imbalance, suggested age gap, rough sex, gagging, creampie / basically forced breeding, enji is a big meanie, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ dabi was supposed to be my first mha character but daddy won sorry. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

for once, during your shifts in the Todoroki household, you were breathing easy. you hum, quietly to yourself, as you scrub each dish, before rinsing the suds away to stack it in the draining rack. usually, you were already aching, with your face shoved in a couch cushion with your ass in the air, taking whatever Enji felt like you deserved that day. more often than not, you’d be crying by the time he finished, and tossed you into the floor like a discarded cumrag, smelling like him and shuddering. you told yourself you only kept coming back because you needed the money, but there were other jobs out there. nicer families to work for.

it was the fear that had a grip on you.

when Enji would bark your name, you would always freeze. he only ever acknowledged you when he needed someone to drain his balls anyways, so you knew what you would be doing for the next hour or so.

you were glad that ( it seemed like ) today would be easier on your body than normal. Enji hadn’t left his bedroom yet, and you were almost finished with the dishes. you had to mop the floors and tidy up the bedrooms, and then you could finally leave.

but the running water in the sink silences his usually too-heavy-to-miss footsteps, and you had no idea Enji was coming until you felt his warmth radiating against your back and your eyes widen. “M—Mister Todoroki, I didn’t hear you come i—“

“Stick your little ass out more,” he rasped, one massive hand pawing at your waist, thumb digging into your tummy to bend you into an arch, and you whine as you comply, gripping the platter tight in one hand and the sponge in the other, “the hell ‘m I paying you so goddamn much for, again? There’s cheaper housemaids, you know.”

“S—sir—“

his free hand hooks around your throat and guides your head back to rest the crown against his sternum, pretzeling you into an unnatural S shape and you cower below his massive form. the expanse of his chest seems miles long from this angle, his harsh features twisted into a wicked scowl. you squint, trying not to lock on to his furious eyes, and stared at his mouth instead. “P—please—“

Enji doesn’t even hear your pathetic, little plea, pushing his gargantuan body against yours, he pins you to the countertop, knocking the breath out of you.

“You’re a tight, little cocksleeve, so you’re worth just a little bit more than those old bags that clean twice as good as you do.” he snarls, hunching over to smear his open mouth over your forehead, and a wave of hot breath tickles your countenance, “but you’d better remember that and start acting like the pricey, set of fuckholes you are. If your back’s not arched, and that ass isn’t on display for me at all times going forward, I’m gonna start cutting your pay. You’ll take twice the cock, though. Am I clear?”

with your bottom lip trembling, you nod with wide eyes, holding the plate closer to your chest. you weren’t sure why you still gripped it, other than you simply needed something to hold on to, something to use as a shield, even if it was a useless one.

Enji quirked a brow, tilted his head of one side, and skewed his lips to bare his teeth. “My question requires a verbal response, whore.”

eyes big and nervous, you release the plate and sponge and allow them to slip back into the soapy water, splashing your top as they do so, but you try to wrap your smaller hands around his forearm when you feel his fingers wanting to tighten around your neck, threatening for you to submit to him or face the severe consequences. “Y—yes sir!” you stammer, holding on to the hardest muscle you’ve ever felt contract under your fingertips.

the hand on your waist careens downward and forces its way between your thighs, and you squirm when calloused fingertips, as rough as sandpaper, rub hard against your panties, “I thought I told you about this, too.” he hisses, coaxing a damp patch against his fingers as he kneads your sensitive sex through the lingerie. you whimper; Enji had made it beyond clear— panties were forbidden. that way, he could easily bend you over any piece of furniture in his home and fuck you without the irritation of having to strip you first. but the skirt he demanded you wear as part of your uniform was much too short, and when you scrubbed the floors on your hands and knees, if you weren’t wearing anything underneath, every inch of your most vulnerable section was exposed. you were embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out, wriggling atop his hand. even though he’s much too rough with your softer, more fragile body, it reacts by pooling slick, attempting to ease the friction he’s causing. “T—the skirt is just so short, I—“

“How many times?” he barks, effectively shutting you up as he wraps his fist around the waistband, “How many times have I had to rip them off of you?”

a soft plea for mercy dies on your tongue. a lot. so many times that you were running out of undies. “T—too many…”

with one, brisk jerk, he’s shredded the fabric, pulling the wad of damp cotton from between your legs in his fist. your body’s jostled by the force, and you gasp, knocked off balance, but pinned too tight against the sink to fall.

“And you still wore them today?”

“I won’t wear them anymore,” you add in a desperate breath. “I— I promise I won’t, p— please don’t be angry with me, I’ll be goo—!“ you were tripping over your own words, terrified of what he had in mind for a punishment. his voice was husky and diabolically low, all of his muscles taut, and you were most afraid of being on the receiving end of his strength if he took the notion to strangle you; you were in a most compromising position. however, your promise to behave is cut off as he jams your own, tattered panties into your mouth, using his thick, long digits to shove the fabric all the way to the back of your throat, and your bargaining melts into a helpless gurgling. the tips of his fingers tease the gag reflex he knew was there, and your eyes well up with tears as you stare up at him, attempting ( and failing ) to push the lingerie out with your tongue. it was only after he pulled his fingers free that you bite down on the underwear, and taste yourself.

“I don’t have the time to punish you properly,” he growls, shoving you further over the sink. you’re swept off your feet, and they dangle a few inches from the floor, the very tips of your toes barely dragging against it, hands scrambling to find solidity, and planting your palms against the bottom of the sink, soapy water sloshing, soaking your shirt, overflowing into the floor. “I’ve got somewhere to be, but, I need a fuck first.” the way he said it made your stomach turn. he wasn’t asking. he wasn’t even trying to pretend that you had a say in what he did with your body. he reaches between your bodies to retrieve his cock, which you are not surprised is already solid and mighty ( you swore he was hard every time he got the chance to degrade you ), and without so much as a moment for you to suck in a breath and prepare yourself, he forces his way inside.

he was so fucking big.

you whimper, blinking back tears. had you not been gagged with your own panties, you would’ve screamed. no matter how many times he used you, your body never adjusted to just how thick he was. your walls have no choice but to stretch to their limit, kissing every angry vein, sealing around his base when he bottoms out. you swear, with the force he likes to drive himself into you, and his impossible size, he must not care if he bursts through your belly. it definitely felt like he might— there was a distinct pressure against your lower abdomen, and you knew that had you not been smushed against the countertop, the shape of his cock would bulge against your navel.

Enji groans, dropping his head back. “You’ve still got the tightest cunt I’ve ever conquered,” he may have meant it as a compliment, but you could do very little besides yowl through your gag and kick your feet as he pounds you, hard and fast, desperately trying to find something to hold on to that wasn’t water, “she never quite gets used to my cock, does she? Still too big for her?” you could hear the splashing as the dishwater rains down on the floor, and you knew that once he was done with you, you would still have to clean up the mess he was making.

nodding, you try to reach both hands down between your legs, instead. you couldn’t pull him out, you knew that, but you could try and soothe your poor, abused sex by cupping it with one hand, your other trying to push against his herculean thigh in hopes to slow him down.

“Good,” he grunts, releasing your throat and grabbing both of your arms at the elbows, jerking your hands away from your own body. with a pitiful whine, you clench your fists as he wrenches your arms back, and uses the new leverage to toss you back and forth, meeting his merciless fucking, “the way you clench when you’re trying to handle my cock…” leaning with all of his weight against your back, he pants into the shell of your ear, “it only makes me want to fuck your useless, little brains out. Harder, and faster.” each word is emphasized as he does just that, pounding you so brutally that you see stars behind your eyelids, shaking you back and forth violently— to the point it made you lightheaded. you squeal and beg and choke on your gag, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, tears on your cheeks.

you didn’t want to admit it ( and couldn’t, even if you wanted to ), but the constant battering of his thick tip into a cluster of delicate nerves had driven you over the edge. it was relentless, the way he destroyed your body and your mind; each time his cock hit the bundle in you, your eyelids fluttered, and your brain turned to mush.

somewhere amidst the cruel and bestial assault, you’d dropped off. you fell apart, legs shaking and core pulsing, milking him more fervently, until you gave into the intensity of the orgasm and your eyes rolled back.

he saw this, and moaned in approval, “Don’t black out, slut. I’m about to flood your guts.” his cock was throbbing when he gave you his deepest, hardest thrusts. you yelp in protest when the head of his cock bumps your cervix, but you could do absolutely nothing to stop it, not with the mountainous man holding you down with every last ounce of his weight. you simply had to take the pressure, and rope after rope of warmth that he shoots into you. your toes curl when he pulls back to slam himself home one last time, and the last few spurts of his release dribble out of your quivering hole when he pulls out.

letting go of your arms and stepping back, he tucks himself back into his uniform as you collapse. first, into the sink, and then, when your feet hit the floor, your knees buckle and you slide into a trembling, messy heap in the floor. you can feel the puddle of soapy water under your bum, it’s soaked the rug, too. exhausted, panting, with your thighs vibrating and your sex clenching uncontrollably, you sag against the side of the cabinet door. you shy closer to it, trying to meld into the wooden panel when Enji steps closer, and grabs your chin to tilt it up. your panties still lodged in your mouth, you look up at him with glassy eyes, wincing at his very touch.

“You’re staying late tonight, after you’ve finished your cleaning duties I want you to wait for me to come home and ruin you again, on your knees by the door like a proper whore.” he says, in a matter-of-fact baritone. you nod slowly.

you were, once again, fucked into complete obedience.

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 1 month

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Hawks: Thanks again for inviting me to dinner, Todoroki family!

Endeavor: It's our pleasure, Hawks. The Todoroki family is known for hospitality, after all.

Shoto: No, we're not. We're currently known across the country for being a wildly dysfunctional family.

Shoto: Also this is the third time this week that we've had Hawks over for dinner. Why is he always here?

Endeavor: Um. Well, it's because he -

Hawks: I'm fucking your dad, that's why.

Shoto:

Endeavor: HAWKS!

Fuyumi: Oh my God, can we just have a single normal family dinner!?

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starstruckgrrl · 2 months

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✿﹒wanna, wanna, gotta, gotta, give it to you ! ~ enji todoroki / endeavor

‧₊˚ ෆ synopsis: endeavor remarries your mother, but finds you so much more enticing.

𓍢 ִ ໋ ⊹ warnings: endeavor lol, smut, age-gap (not underage), step-cest, sugar daddy type beat, sub!reader, spoiled reader, daddy kink

a/n: hey guys!! i’m gonna start posting some more about my personal interests n kinks n stuff!! however, you’re totally free to req whatever u like and i’ll answer them asap :3 title is loosely based on give it away by red hot chili peppers, that song is kind of how i feel like loving endeavor would feel tbh...

you and your daddy had made yourselves a routine. harboring hatred for everyone around him had huge consequences on his stress levels, so you were in charge of regulating that for him.

endeavor would come home, change into a tank top and sweatpants, and sit on the couch to breathe. he never missed the opportunity to strut around the house to show off, knowing how attractive you thought he was. while your mother was out running errands, enji calls for you to come sit on his lap on the couch. he combs through your hair and presents you with a gift, that new coach bag you've been wanting! "thank you, daddy!!" you say as you look up at him, giving him a big smile. "you're welcome, princess. why don't you give daddy a proper thank you?" you giggle excitedly and get down on your knees in front of him on the floor. he parts his legs to let you gain access to his cock, and you pull it out like a child opening presents on christmas day. maybe you were a little cock-brained, but who wouldn't be when your daddy's dick was so perfect? it was thick and long, with two prominent veins on the side. the tip was cute and pink and dribbled when you would tease and grind on him. the curve would stimulate you oh-so-good when he fucked into you, no matter what pace he was going at. you wrap your hands around it, pumping it slowly and licking the tip. you flatten your tongue and lick long strips from the base to the tip, finally taking it in your mouth and trying your best to take it all. his hand cups your head and his thumb strokes your head as he huffs and whispers out praises to you. "you're daddy's good girl, baby." he says, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. you know better than to talk with your mouth full, and move your hands to cup his balls and play with them softly. you took his cock out of your mouth to lick his balls and care for them while stroking him, paying extra attention to squeeze around the tip. he moves his hand to the back of your head to push you towards him further, and you breathe in his smell. he smells so fucking good and manly, and you can't help but savor it as you take his balls in your mouth and lick them. "gonna cum, princess. swallow for me, don't want to leave a mess for your mom to find and know what we've been doing." you move to his cock and your daddy grabs the back of your head to throat-fuck you until he cums and there's tears coming out of your eyes. he bucks up into you as he releases his cum all the way down your throat. when he releases you, you're huffing and puffing for a moment before you can open your mouth to show that you've swallowed it all. "what do you say for the meal, baby?" "thank you, daddy!"

#mha smut #anime smut #mha #mha x reader #my hero academia #endeavor #endeavor smut #endeavor x reader #endeavor bnha #enji todoroki #enji x reader #mha enji #bnha enji #enji x you

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mintshrooom · 3 months

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Hawks meets Endeavor at the Hero Billboard Chart(Mulan photo reference)

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha hawks #hawks mha #bnha hawks #hawks my hero academia #keigo takami #mha endeavour #bnha endeavour #my hero academia enji #enji todoroki #mha enji #bnha enji

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lady-lauren · 2 years

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Pairing: Enji Todoroki x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ Only

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: authority/power-play, boss/employee relationship, age-gap, size difference/size kink, public heavy petting/fingering, rough sex, desk sex, praise kink, use of “good girl,” light choking/breath play, hand pressed over reader’s mouth, hair pulling, creampie (Enji is implied to be divorced, no cheating) trapped in an elevator for a while, so warnings for claustrophobia and elevators in general.

A/N: Special thanks to @whats-her-quirk and @titan-fodder for reading over this bad boy, and extra special thanks to my power going out right as I was excited to post this. God how I’ve missed Endeavor. One horny thought turned into over 6k. Enjoy ❤️

Endeavor’s name and presence is all over his hero agency. On every letterhead, blazing neon red letters on the front of the building, on company sweatshirts and stamps, email signatures, and even every pen and notepad. Yet the man himself is hardly ever seen.

Working directly for the titular hero of the agency as his senior support staff means that you see him more than most, and even still, his flaming body is a rarity to you.

So it’s a shock to see him in the elevator this morning, fire extinguished due to the spacial hazard. He’s dressed casually, white dress shirt and navy trousers. It’s too early for his hero duties to begin, the clock having not yet struck 9 a.m.

“Good morning,” you whisper with your eyes averted; his proximity always makes you anxious.

“Morning.”

He greets you with a curt nod as you step into the elevator from the parking garage floor.

Your first instinct is to press yourself to the farthest wall away from him. There’s an obstacle, however, one of his many sidekicks already twiddling his thumbs with worriment against the right wall. Endeavor stands in the back left corner, arms crossed, muscles bulging. You stick to the front of the car, leaning against the cool wall near the control panel.

The top-most floor is where you’re headed—same as your boss.

An itch crawls in your throat to make small talk, to fill the silent, awkward void as the elevator doors close and the cables hoist the metal box upwards. But you keep quiet, even if it is a long ride to floor thirty-six.

Lights on the floor numbers flicker, passing the lower levels, only to stop on the main lobby.

You exhale heavily as another sidekick enters the space, this guy bigger than most, making you step back a bit closer to the number one hero.

More people continue to filter in, worker bees about to go to their respective places in the corporate hive.

One after the other, feet shuffle, each new body making you edge closer and closer to the behemoth in the corner. Some have the guts to acknowledge Endeavor, others have wide eyes and try to cram themselves as far away from him as possible.

Endeavor is still hot—literally—without his flames, the heat of his body making the elevator car feel like a sweltering humid day. Like the sun, torrid waves pour from his core, making sweat form at the base of your neck.

The elevator doors finally close, only for them to re-open just one floor up.

Someone leaves, but three more enter. Everyone has to displace like water, make room for the other employees.

You take your final step back before your heeled shoe catches the toe of Endeavor’s boot.

“Sorry,” you mumble, placing your hand on the wall next to him to steady yourself.

The Flame Hero only huffs, casting you a glance before returning his gaze that rests over every head.

“Geez, busy morning, yeah?” Someone breaks the ice, someone nods in return.

“Elevators, huh? They really have their ups and downs.”

You can feel Endeavor groan in annoyance behind you, his broad form just a hair’s width away from you. Your legs are stiff in your heels, back straight as you try to be mindful not to touch or bump him. It’s not that you’re afraid of him, you just dare not be inappropriate with your boss—with the number one hero.

But your efforts to keep a suitable distance between you and your colossal employer fail when, by floor ten, you’re pushed back against him when another influx of people rush the elevator.

“I’m so sorry,” you look up at him as you apologize, craning your neck back against his chest.

“It’s alright.”

When the elevator jolts back to life, surging upward, your balance betrays you. Endeavor catches your hip before you lose yourself to gravity, a large hand keeping you upright.

The touch should be brief—that’s what you expect. Instead, his huge, hot fingers stay put, lingering. His thumb feels like it’s scorching your body at the seam of where your blouse is tucked into your skirt.

Your hair stands on end and you become acutely aware of just how much of you is touching him.

Your back is flush against his chest, his brawny thighs—spread wide—are on either side of your own, which are pressed together with nervousness. The top of your head bumps back against the collar of his shirt, the buttons down his robust chest are scraping against the thin fabric that covers your skin. His strong arm at your side keeps you from bumping into the elevator wall.

The two of you are rocking with the shifting and lifting of the elevator, shoulders bumping into the people next to you; the tall side-kick in front of you is nearly touching your nose with his back.

The elevator car creaks, the cables struggling.

“There’s a weight limit to these things, isn’t there?” A woman whispers near the front.

“Says here 1,500 pounds.” A little guy near the front reads the plaque above the floor buttons.

You can’t see beyond about three people around you, the height of the sidekicks blocking most everyone’s view. But if you had to guess, there’s about twelve people on the elevator, and at least four of the bigger heroes are well over two hundred pounds, Endeavor included.

“I think we’re over capacity, but we should be okay.” A different voice, one that makes people sigh with relief.

When the metal doors glide open on floor twenty, revealing two faces ready to enter the car, it’s Endeavor who speaks up.

“Elevator’s full. Catch the next one.”

No one would dare tell him no.

The rumble of his voice travels down your spine, makes your toes curl in your shoes that are starting to feel too-tight. Your ass is promptly placed at his crotch, the realization of which makes you flush.

Five floors whisk by, the next lit up button about to be reached, only for the elevator to shriek and rumble.

“Oh shit!” Someone yells as the world shifts, as the lights flash and the metal box shakes.

Endeavor instinctively wraps his arm around your middle, his free hand flying forward to stop the sidekick in front of you from crushing you between two muscular bodies.

A few of the ladies scream, a few of the men, too, a high pitched conglomeration of curse words and panic.

“Oh god we’re gonna fall!”

“From how high? What floor are we on?!”

“Fucking hell, we’re gonna die!”

“Endeavor save us!”

The electricity crackles before the lights go out, a faint flicker of hope before casting every face into darkness.

“It’s alright, everyone,” Endeavor sighs as he speaks, his hand rubbing against your side like he’s trying to soothe you, too, “we’re going to be fine. Just no one make any sudden movements.”

“Are we going to fall? Can you save us?!”

“Easy,” he tuts at the voice in the dark, “just stay calm. The elevator has shut down purposely in order to prevent it from crashing. If it was going to fall, it would have already. This is a built-in safety measure.”

“What do we do?” One of the sidekicks asks, eager to save the day.

“We wait.” Endeavor answers, finally pulling his hand off the back of his other sidekick, but not removing himself from you.

“Wait for what?!”

You sigh, resolving to let your weight fall back against your boss, tired of trying to keep yourself from being improper in this situation.

“Be quiet.”

A blue light comes to life near your side after Endeavor fishes his phone from his pocket. He dials a number quickly, pressing the speaker function since he can’t pull his phone to his ear due to the bodies cramped next to him.

“Hello, this is Ellie Vader, how can I help you?” A female voice chirps from the speakers.

“Ellie, it’s Endeavor. The elevator has shut down at my office, me and…” he pauses, ready to take a head count but unable to see in the dark, “quite a few people are stuck.”

“The Elevator Hero is at your service! Make sure no one moves suddenly—no jumping, no banging on the walls—I can be there in about fifteen minutes!”

“Thanks.”

And then the light is gone and people are exhaling in relief.

“There’s an elevator hero?” You mumble up to Endeavor, smiling even if he can’t see it.

“You’d be surprised how many elevators get stuck a day in this city. We’ll be fine.”

The blackout urges people to be quiet. It’s pitch dark, the absence of light making some go still, while others try to feel their surroundings, causing a ripple of “ouch,” “back off,” “don’t touch me,” “that’s my fucking toe.”

Soon, though, a few people are able to maneuver their phones into their hands, and dull screens make the packed space feel less intimidating. Two co-workers even start up a hushed conversation at the front, talking about the department meeting they dread today. Another pair strikes up a forced chat about weekend plans. They’re human, after all, awkward and trying to fill the silence.

Feet aching from heels you did not plan to be planted on metal floor for so long, you shift your weight between your knees, inadvertently rubbing yourself against your boss’s crotch.

“You alright?” Endeavor turns his face down to whisper to you, lips brushing against your ear.

“Mhm, yeah, my feet just hurt a bit.”

“I’m sure they do, given those ridiculous heels you wear every day.”

There’s a playfulness to his tone that you’ve heard from time-to-time. Though now, in such close proximity, it makes you warm, makes your palms sweat.

You murmur without thinking, “Yeah, but they make my legs look good.”

Regretting the words immediately, you press your lips together, ready to bang your head into the guy’s back in front of you.

Endeavor doesn’t respond right away, only chuckles, the arm around your middle retreating. He slides his big hand across your belly, slowly, like he wants you to feel it. Then his fingers are back to your hip, but moving down, down, down until his absurdly large fingertips are trailing the hem of your skirt.

“Indeed they do.” Endeavor speaks more softly than you’ve ever heard him before, just a breath of words for you to hear.

But anyone could hear him if they were paying attention. If anyone were to crane their neck and look back, they’d see the outline of number one hero creeping his fingers up his assistant’s skirt in the dark.

Hot can no longer describe how you feel pressed against him. The temperature goes beyond that—boiling, like he’s on fire and engulfing you even though his quirk is being suppressed. You’re flying far too close to the sun, being sucked into his orbit.

Your fingers clasp in front of you for sanity, knuckles squeezing tightly as you hold your breath.

You’d be a liar if you said you’d never thought about fucking Endeavor.

It’s hard not to think about sex when you look at him. He ticks every primitive mating box: incredibly tall, handsome, the strongest of any pack he’s in. Everywhere he goes, he brings an air of authority with him. Making people cower is almost part of his charm.

Endeavor clears his throat and it makes you jump, the deep sound vibrating against your back. Two fingers come to a halt on the back of your thigh, just a few inches higher than your hem, just a few inches away from touching your backside.

“Are you alright with the work you’ve been given today?” He asks quietly, pointedly to you.

It’s code. You pick up on it right away, as it’s Monday and you’re lucky enough to not have any assignments yet. He’s asking if you’re alright with him touching you.

“Yes, sir—” you lick your lips as you think about what to say in response, “I think it’s going to be a very pleasurable day.”

Someone in front of you snorts, muttering a “yeah, after we get off this goddamn elevator, maybe.”

But the fingers that continue their voyage up your thigh tell you that this elevator calamity is about to be the highlight of your morning.

Endeavor shifts you both, pressing his shoulders back farther against the back wall, giving himself more space to get his huge hand farther up your skirt.

His other hand is quick to act as well. He grasps your ribcage, making you suck in a breath, fingers splayed wide so he can brush the underside of your breast without detection. Your bra stands in the way, an unfortunate barrier, but still your tit jiggles in the cup just enough to send heat straight to your cunt.

The elevator creaks and groans, like a ship baying in the ocean. A few shocked gasps echo around the space, which is the perfect cover for the sound you can’t help but make as your boss’s fingers settle between your legs.

Endeavor spreads the fat of your pressed-too-tightly thighs easily, two thick fingers rubbing against your panties.

A strained sound comes from his throat, like he wants to say something but is holding himself back. His middle finger strokes further between your thighs, pushing against your clit. You see stars for a moment in the dark, pleasure searing down into the pits of your stomach.

You’re both damp. Him from the heat of the elevator, mostly caused by him, anyways, his white shirt clinging to his plush chest. You’re wet between your legs, his touch immediately making your slick pool against cotton.

His fingers are languid but strong, repeating the action of sliding between your covered folds and toying with your clit until your thighs are clenching around his wrist, knees knocking together and shaking.

“Good,” is all he breathes down the back of your neck, concise praise that makes you bite the inside of your cheek to avoid whimpering.

Your head falls back to his chest, breasts heaving as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself. From the light of a phone screen in the corner, you can barely make out Endeavor’s features. Sharp jaw turned down toward you, thick neck with a pulse thumping as hard as your own. You can barely make out the jagged lines of his facial scar, a firm reminder of whose hands you’re in.

Desperately you want to tilt your head back just a bit more, offer your lips for him to kiss. But you can still hear people all around you, even if you can’t really see them. Coughs and shuffling, mutterings and someone on the phone up front toward the doors swearing that he’s not late, just stuck in an elevator with Endeavor.

It’s hard to grasp the concept that Endeavor is touching you, that he wants to touch you, and made the move himself to shove his fingers against your pussy. You’re just a pretty girl with a simple quirk and a talent for organizing his schedule.

Endeavor manages to pull his burly arm up a bit more on your side, weighty palm curving over your breast until his thumb and index fingers rest at the base of your throat. A contingency plan, you realize, for him to take quick action should you get too noisy.

Long fingers are deft, swift and pushy, pulling your panties to the side so he can really touch you, smear feverish fingertips through your wetness. You bump your head back against his chest in near defeat, eyes screwing shut as you focus on not verbally responding to the gratification of skin upon skin.

He’s good at what he’s doing, too good, playing you like the devil plays his fiddle as his index finger slips into your tight hole and his middle rolls against your clit.

You nearly lose your footing, having to plant one foot back between his stance in order to stay standing. You’re more open for him now, his thumb pushing at the fat of your ass and spreading you. Your cunt sucks in his finger willingly, wet and squishing, making you flush with embarrassment.

But no one seems to notice, there’s no sound of shock, no shadowy figures turning in the dark.

In a fucked up way, it feels like just you and him, a moth sucked into a dangerous flame.

“More?” Barely a whisper into the top of your head, breath hot and lost in your hair.

“Yes,” you sob quickly.

He moves the hand at your neck higher, squeezing just enough to feel blood pumping in your carotid arteries, to keep you quiet.

More than anything, you want to feel full, and he heeds your silent prayer. Endeavor stuffs two fingers into you, middle finger abandoning your clit in favor of curling against your walls. He pumps into you roughly, purposely, each thrust making your stomach tighten. He wants to drive you off the orgasmic cliff, force you to cum in his hand.

And you’re getting close, far more quickly than you’re proud of. His fingers are skilled, cruel, finding that perfect spot inside you that makes you want to scream. But you can’t. You swallow it down, grit your jaw until you hurt. His thumb and ring fingers are mean against your ass cheeks, packed against soft flesh as he coaxes more slick sounds from between your legs.

Endeavor squeezes your throat, once, twice, like he’s urging you, commanding you. Do it, do it.

Delectable jolts race across your nerves, blending together at the apex of your thighs, deep in your belly. His fingers press in deeper, harder, velvety walls rich around him. You can feel every knuckle, feel how he spreads you, vicious and eager, like he doesn’t care that you’re practically dripping into the floor.

Your lashes are fluttering as you fully put your weight back against his chest, content to just feel him. His breaths are steady, calming, like he isn’t pounding his fingers into your cunt. His fingers are thick, insanely so, which only makes you hold in a whisper at how fat his cock must be.

Each press of his fingers makes you jump, makes your stomach tighten like some molten core is forming with every thrust. It all feels too good, like a hot, humid heaven where you’re being stuffed and satiated.

Your hips buck back against him, heels scraping the floor, his hard cock pressing right against the groove of your ass.

Feeling him behind you, Endeavor, number one hero, massive body, forearms straining against you, his cock aching for you, that’s what pushes you over the edge.

Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. One of your hands flies to the hero’s wrist around your neck for stability.

You absolutely shatter, thighs quivering, cunt cinching, orgasm flooding all your senses like you’ve been thrown into the deep end. Blood rushes to your ears, fills your cheeks, rushes south as you gush. You’re blissfully trapped, waves hitting you from every angle, knocking the breath out of you as you cream all over your boss’s hand.

“Fuck,” you have to say something, have to curse into the silence before you scream and explode.

“Good girl.”

He doesn’t remove his fingers right away. He lingers, pressing his cock against your ass, moving his hand down to tug at your waist and get you to rock back against him. He delights in the friction of you against his slacks, practically purring behind you.

“Hey, what’s that sound?” Someone comments. Immediately you blanch, worried you’ve been caught.

But you hear it too, the cables tugging again, the machine of the elevator humming back to life.

“Oh my god we’re saved!”

“I thought I was going to die!”

It’s a chorus of happiness, one that easily drowns out the slippery sounds of Endeavor finally leaving the sanctuary of your cunt. You squeak at the loss of contact, feeling so very empty as he pushes your skirt down, wipes the mess of his fingers on his pants.

Still, the gigantic man doesn’t quite let you go. He keeps his hands on your hips, keeping you planted right in front of him. To hide the tent in his pants, you assume.

“Hi there!”

The elevator doors finally open on floor twenty-seven to Ellie Vader, smiling with a giant wrench thrown over her shoulder.

“Oh thank god!” One of the elevator passengers flings himself at her, wrapping her in a hug as he dramatically brings himself to tears.

“Goodness, it’s hot in there! Everyone out, elevator is fixed, but we can’t have this many people traveling anymore!”

Eager bodies shuffle out, shoulders bumping, quickly cursing before apologizing.

But Endeavor keeps his hands on you, firm, steady, telling you that you are not to follow suit.

“Thank you, Ellie,” Endeavor’s voice is a bit hoarse, but he gives her a forced smile from the back of the car.

“Any time, pal! It was probably you who weighed down the damn thing, anyways. Now off you go!”

The beaming hero smacks the up button on the outer wall, closing the doors and sending you back on the track to the top floor.

You don’t have time to process fully being alone with Endeavor.

Easily, far too easily, he pushes you against the elevator wall, hands on either side of your head as he cages you in.

Blue eyes spark with flames, low rumbling ones, flicking just hot enough to kiss your skin.

“Cancel everything on my schedule today.”

“B-but sir, you have—”

“I. Don’t. Care. Clear it, or better yet, message one of the other assistants to do so. You’ll be occupied the rest of the day.”

He takes your jaw into his hand as you nod in affirmation. You can still smell yourself on his fingers. Your cheeks squish underneath the might of his grip, and he watches you curiously, quietly, like a lion playing with a fresh catch.

The elevator chimes before he can kiss you.

“Follow me to my office.”

He turns on his heels, marching in a beeline out of the lift and straight to the large double doors of his office. You follow a few beats later, hands quick to find your phone and send out an emergency email to the rest of the support staff to wipe the boss’s calendar clean.

You’re a bit wobbly as you exit the elevator, panties still pushed to the side, but swiftly find your footing. You take long, brisk strides to the looming promise of Endeavor’s office.

Once you enter, he commands you to lock the door, which is not unusual given how he hates to be disturbed while he’s working.

“On the desk,” he has yet to sit down, too busy peeling off his dampened shirt and running a hand through red hair.

His office has always been intimidating. Far too large and nearly empty save his desk and a few couches, the floor to ceiling windows making it feel even more expansive as it overlooks the Musutafu skyline. You feel small against the oak wood of his desk, like a doll placed for decoration as you cross your legs nervously, like he hadn’t just had his hand between your thighs, in your cunt.

“Pretty little thing, aren’t you?” His words make you prickle with delight as his belt clinks, the leather being slid from his pants without a second thought.

“Thank you.” It’s all you know to say.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you.” He cages you in again, big palms flat against his desk as he leans down to brush his nose against your throat. “Thought about fucking you since I hired you.”

You’re overwhelmed by him, by his size, by his cologne, his proximity. He’s all encompassing so up close and personal. Your eyes are glued to his musculature, transfixed by the way his shoulders roll, how plush his pectorals are. He could easily crush you with his might, yet his hands are quick and soft as they push and pull at the buttons of your blouse.

“Kiss me.” You demand of him, your lips wet and begging for friction.

He indulges you without a second thought, one hand unclasping your bra as the other holds your chin. His mouth is heavy, hot, rough against yours like he’s taking what he wants. He swallows your moans, slides his tongue past your teeth so he can taste you. Warm, languid movements, consuming and intoxicating. He tastes familiar, like how he smells each day, but exotic, like he’s forbidden. And he should be. Yet your legs are spreading below him and your naked tits pressing against his chest.

“Fuck,” he groans and puts his hand on your back, smushing you close to him, slotting your body against his. He’s too tall for his cock to press against your pussy, yet you can feel it against your stomach, twitching against the seam in his pants. You wiggle yourself against one of his powerful thighs, desperate to feel some kind of contact between your legs.

Endeavor breaks your kiss by tugging at your hair, fingers weaving between the strands so he can pull your neck back and keep you still.

Blue eyes scan your spit stained lips before wandering down, stopping to watch your breasts heave from the breath you lost to your kiss.

“Always knew you’d have perfect tits.” He punctuates his statement by plucking at one of your nipples, rolling the bud between hefty fingers until it pebbles to his touch.

You can’t help but whine as he repeats the action, pinching and pulling just to watch your body’s reaction. He yanks the hand in your hair back, making your spine arch and tits press out further. He plays with your other nipple, balancing the sensations, making you grind down against him as you search for more pleasure.

Dipping his head, he places a long, flat lick across your nipple, leaving a cold trail in his wake.

“Enji!” You lean into the pull he has on your hair.

He sucks your nipple into his mouth, a grunt vibrating across your breast as he circles your sensitive peak with his tongue.

“Like my name in your mouth,” he says between breasts, lathering the other with plenty of attention as well. You shiver at his ministrations, the air conditioning making you bristle in the cold when his heat shifts across your body.

“Enji,” you repeat with purpose, “fuck, you’re spoiling me.”

And you mean it, it’ll be hard to walk into his office and not think of him nursing your tits.

“Just wait, sweetheart. I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

You moan, feeling like he already has.

Enji releases your hair, the heel of his hand pushing against your shoulder to get you to lay flat against the papers on his desk. Ink sticks to your sweaty skin.

“Let me see the mess you made.”

Moving your skirt down your hips before you can even process, he opens your legs wide, gigantic hands pushing on the backs of your thighs so your slick, sloppy cunt and soiled panties sticking to your folds are on display.

“Mess you made,” you correct with a breathy giggle, staring up at the ceiling of his office.

“Didn’t hear you complaining in the elevator, sweetheart.” He runs a finger down your folds, your body convulsing at the touch. “In fact, I didn't hear you make much of a peep. Such a good girl, keeping quiet for me.”

“If your cock is anything like your fingers, I don’t know if I can be quiet.”

Enji plays with your messy cunt, curling two fingers against you before peeling the wet cotton away so he can look at you.

“Don’t want you to be quiet,” you both groan as his finger prods your hole, “though I’ll make you hush if you get too loud.”

You flush with a fresh heat as he pulls your panties down your legs, feeling strings of slick pop from where you were sticking to the threads.

“Look at that pretty pussy. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock. You were sucking my fingers so tight earlier.”

You never expected him to be so vocal and it makes you gasp, fingers trying to grip into the clutter of paperwork on his desk.

He’s aware of his strength as he grasps your hip, careful not to hurt you even as his blood simmers and his cock springs from his pants.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, eyes gone glassy as you close them against the fluorescent lights, “please, please.”

He grunts in affirmation, sliding his thick cock over your slippery folds, coating himself. There’s a vein that runs on the underside of him, hot and pounding, moving just right against your clit to make your thighs shake in his hands.

The urge to look at him, to actually see the monstrous cock you’ve been dreaming of, is strong, but his grip is stronger. You can’t move below him, his shoulders and arms working to press and secure you against his desk. All you can do is breathe and wait, feel his fat cock slip and grind against you.

“Deep breath,” he tells you, pressing his leaking tip against your cunt, “might hurt.”

Luckily, the mess Enji made of you makes it easier for him to pop past that first ring of muscle, cockhead hot and mean as his hips cant. He’s not gentle. Quick thrusts that spread you apart fast, make you open and create room for him inside of you.

You feel stuffed just from the first few inches, drunk already on the sounds he’s making. Primal, deep grunts from inside his chest as he stares down at where you’re taking him in, dragging along his length. He bullies his way inside of you, getting off on your whines and squeals as you stretch for him.

Your pussy is sloppy around him, wet squishes as he finds more rhythm against your tight walls.

“Shit, fuck,” you exclaim as he begins to bottom out, russet curls on his pubic bone meeting your clit. All you can think about is him; his fingers digging into your thighs, your name in his mouth, his sweltering body pressing against yours. The smell of sex starts early, sweaty skin melting together as he fully starts to take you.

He’s holding back, you can tell by the way his voice is caught in his throat. He’s keeping all his dangerous muscles, wicked instincts, at bay as he pulls out and presses in again. Rough, fast, but not enough to break you, just make you scream until you bury your face to the side and try to cover your mouth with your arm.

“Atta girl,” he mumbles, moving a bit quicker, snapping his strong hips against you, heavy balls against your ass, “just fucking take it.”

You’re practically folded in half and pinned below him, hips arched off the desk so he can find more leverage to barrel into you. The rhythm makes you swim, lost to the pounding of his cock against your insides. Over and over, in and out, spread wide and squeezing all the same as he has his way with you.

You get lost in the feeling of him in your belly, searing and harsh, fat tip rolling against the spongy spot inside of you until you feel like you might snap. You feel him in your ears, your head pounding with every snap of his hips. You feel him in your toes, lightning zaps of pleasure down your nerves.

“Feel so good, so full,” you know the praise works both ways, makes him flush and swell with pride.

“Yeah? You like being my little cocksleeve?”

You cry out for him because you can’t help it, delight bubbling in your throat every time he plunges in deep. He keeps his pace for a bit, all rushed and blazing, transfixed on watching you suck him in, leaving cream along his shaft. But quickly he gets rougher, more desperate, big hands squeezing from your thighs to your hips.

“C’mere,” but you don’t have to move, just let him pull on you like you weigh nothing.

Enji jerks you upright, cock still seated into your core. Smoothly he stands with you, hands gripping into your ass cheeks as you fling yourself against his chest, trying to get your arms around his massive shoulders.

“I’ve got you.”

He bounces you once, twice, lets you whine into his neck and get used to the new angle. Gravity and his strength make you take all of him in, his cockhead bullying against your womb in the most pleasant way that makes your vision go blurry.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” it’s all you can do to stay sane as he becomes brutal, grunting and groaning as he thrusts up into you. Your nails sling to his dewy skin, losing purchase with every rebound. Pink lines etch into him, blending into freckles on his shoulders.

Your legs burn from being spread around his thick waist, any attempt for you to lock them around his back is useless due to his size. You go pliant in his arms, mouth sucking into his neck to smother your moans. Every hasty drive of his hips has the ridge of his cock sliding against the spongy spread of your walls, making you feel more stuffed every time you sink back down. With every sudden movement you feel the entirety of his fat cock; the veins are throbbing, skin heated and silken within you. And he feels you, smells you, aches for you.

“Never gonna get tired of this,” he roars with a bit of laughter, head rolling back as he lets pleasure take over.

“You’re fucking amazing.” And you mean it, awe overwhelming you as you fall against his chest, dwarfed by his brawn. Enji continues to lift you up and down, up and down, on his cock like you’re weightless. And you are to his strength, his muscles are bulging and corded expertly around his body. He’s trained himself to perfection; trained to be the best at everything.

Your hands move to his arms, nails sinking into the hard muscles of his triceps as you cling on for dear life.

He nudges your forehead with his nose, coaxing you to look at him so he can bounce you up a bit higher and capture your mouth with his.

“Can I,” he groans into your lips, “can I cum in you?”

His words make your belly coil, a fissure of revelry racing up your spine.

“Please, yes, fuck yes, cum in me.”

You don’t have it in you to explain your birth control, nor does he seem to care for you to. Your confirmation just spurs him to move faster, balls slapping against your ass so roughly you know you’ll be sore just from skin against skin.

“You first.”

Without breaking rhythm, he takes a step back and sits down in his office chair. You coo as you sit in his lap, his hands still planted on your thighs so he can move you however he pleases. He’s strong enough to bounce you with his hips, his thighs, one hand steadying you as the other dips between your bodies.

His thumb is merciless against your clit. You’re vulnerable to his touch, clit spread and on display from the stretch of his thick cock inside of you.

“Fuck, fuck, g-gonna cum, Enji,” you take a deep breath, throwing your head back as you buck and bound in his lap, “gonna scream, shit.”

Enji takes matters into his own hands, literally, continuing to strum your sensitive clit as his other hand clasps onto your mouth. It’s a suffocating feeling, a possessive one, like he’s smothering all your cries so no one else can hear but him.

With the safety of his hand over your lips, thumb arched against your cheekbone, pressing, prodding, you let yourself go.

You cum so hard that the world stops, your ears ring, your body goes limp. Enji’s hips don’t falter, just continue to slam up into you as he chases his own high. You suck around him, pulsing, feeling every inch of him. You’ve never cum around such a fat cock and it just prolongs your pleasure, like his penetration keeps you from squeezing your pleasure out right away. It’s mindless ecstasy, spit against his palm and nails raking down his chest.

“God you’re fucking pretty when you cum,” and his praise only makes it worse, makes your eyes wring until there’s tears down your cheeks and stars behind your eyelids.

And just when you think you’re done, that you’ll find a reprieve to the shattering, over-sensitive pleasure, he cums inside of you.

He stops to ride out his orgasm, cock throbbing, pulsing, spurting inside you until you feel fuller than you’ve ever felt. Stuffed so tightly with his cock, his cum gushes from where your cunt grips around him, messy and hot and spilling over your thighs and his. The sound he makes is breathless, all open-mouth and head lolled back as he purrs, satiated to find release in your cunt.

You can’t help but mumble nonsense against his hands, blissed-out praise of how good he feels, how you love feeling his cum. After a few heartbeats, his hand slips from your face, instead reaching back to run through his hair, catching the sweat beating down his forehead.

“Oh my god,” reality sets in as you lean forward, burying your face into his neck, drunk off the afterglow of sex, but aware enough that the smell of him reminds you that you just fucked your boss on a Monday morning.

“You alright?”

He pets your hair, palm burning down your back as you both come back down from whatever orgasmic plane you were shot into.

“Yeah, just,” you groan as you shift in his lap, his cock still hard and buried so deep in your cunt that you know you’ll feel his ghost for days, “just coming to terms with this.”

Enji laughs, deep and proud, and the rumbles of his chest make you jump.

“Thought I broke you for a moment there. Sorry, sometimes I forget myself. My strength, really.”

Clearly, your heads are not in the same place. He’s worried about your body while you’re worried about repercussions.

“No, you were—this was great, seriously, fucking you is…wild.” You shift in his lap, audibly moaning as you sit up straight, still stuffed full of him. “But you’re not going to fire me, are you?”

He laughs again, looking down at you in his lap with glee in his icy eyes. Running his hands down your shoulders, he hums, smiling.

“Fire you? No, no. Might promote you, though. Make sure you do more important things than just schedule my media appearances.”

He’s being playful, just as love-drunk as you are from sex, and his smile makes you warm, like he’s washing away all your fears.

You kiss him because you feel like you can, like you have the authority to just lean up and take what you want from him. He groans into your mouth, lips matching the movements of yours. It’s nice to kiss him, to take your time and feel him against you; breasts to chest, arms weaving around one another, necks turning and thighs clenching.

“Yeah,” he presses one last kiss to your lips before stretching his arms over his head, “I’m going to keep you, that’s for sure.”

#endeavor smut #enji todoroki smut #endeavor x reader #Enji Todoroki x reader #enji x reader #enji smut #enji todoroki #endeavor #my hero academia fanfic #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #endeavor fanfic #enji todoroki fanfic #bnha enji #bnha endeavor #bnha endeavor fanfic #bnha enji todoroki fanfic #bnha

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randombook4idk · 5 months

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fandoms: guuuyyysss, pls use anti tags when talking negativly about the characters🥺🥺🥺 fans don't need to see how much you hate their faves!! pls be respectful🥺🥺🥺

also fandom about it's most hated characters: u fucking suck. no one likes you. if someone does like you im gonna assume the worst of those people. ew gross i hate you. only abuse apologists/homophobes/fascists/etc. would like them. how can anyone like them?? thank god no one likes you otherwise your fans would be annoyed by having to deal with this negativity and with people accusing them of being awful people...but they dont because no one likes you. did i mention how much i hate this stupid character-

#yes most of the characters i've tagged did terrible things #fandom problems #shou tucker #toh belos #philip wittebane #odalia blight #enji todoroki #bnha enji #james ironwood #adam taurus #fiona frost #agent nightfall #sxf fiona

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saiyanmyname · 7 months

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For absolutely no reason, thinking about Pirate Captain Enji dressed in his velvet, embroidered captains coat, who’s buttoned and buckled to the nines.

His motley crew have captured you and your ship. You, the most infamous Pirate Queen on the seven seas. You’ve been destroying his reputation as the toughest buccaneer that ever sailed the high seas and he couldn’t have that now could he?

Think I'm going to try to write something for this so watch this space!

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manny-hughes · 3 days

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This is lowkey ASS but it’s also my first time drawing Hawks so like I’ll cut myself SOME slack. Even if he’s covering up the best fucking arm I’ve ever drawn in my life.. It’s like.. Totally cool I guess..

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yanderenightmare · 4 months

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ENJI TODOROKI MASTERLIST

Ranging from my top Enji post to posts with notes above 1k.

Cock descriptions:

COCK ♡3k

What BNHA ! yandere is the scariest:

SCARY YANDERE ♡3k

Darling tries to deny the yandere captor Enji intimacy:

ENJI ♡2k

Enji and darling's sexual role-play dynamic:

ROLE-PLAY DYNAMICS ♡1k

Orc ! Enji x elf ! darling:

ORC x Elven princess ♡1k

ORC x ELF ♡1k

The Torodoki family makes use of their quirkless daughter - with friends:

FAMILY FUN ♡1k

Similar posts can be found in the following:

INSERT MASTERLIST

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plush-rabbit · 1 year

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Dating Enji to Get Back at Touya

Request: Idk if youre down to write thing kind of thing but the idea is; Touya is a shitty immature boyfriend whos never treated reader right even though theyve been dating for a long while. They finally break up after a big fight inwhich reader is just done with his bullshit. They sont talk for a while until he sees reader with his father of all people. Reader is with Enji and he treats her RIGHT☆ he spoils her and treats her like the women she is. Touya is not happy♡ thats it, just reader dating Touyas dad for revenge but actually is really happy w him

A/N: I’m gonna try a different format here so let me know how you think of it, kind of like a fic, but not a full one

Touya isn’t the best partner to have. He’s never cheated on you, but he’s so dismal of your feelings. He can be mean- ignoring you, walking out on you when you’re crying, staying for a quick fuck and leaving immediately and if he doesn’t leave immediately, he falls asleep and wakes up early to raid your fridge and leave without a note.

There’s a certain charm to the relationship. Despite him being mean and the fights where he’d raise his voice and tell you nasty things in order to hurt you, to see you cry- he could also be sweet. He’d call you pretty, and kiss your cheek. He could fuck you nice and soft, and kiss you with so much passion you could have mistaked it for some deeper feeling. He wasn’t the type to say sorry, but he would bring you gifts- expensive ones that he’d know you’d like.

But the fighting is too much. It’s mean and cruel, and both of you brought out the worst in each other. And one day, you had enough. You broke it off and deleted his contact and even though you couldn't bring yourself to delete the text messages, you did.

Maybe you should have gone with his brother, Natsuo, who you know would be a sweetheart and would treat you better than anyone could. Or maybe his sister, Fuyumi. She was always cute and had such a sweet voice. But, for better or for worse, his father was there, going through a divorce and desperate for something or someone to just relieve himself on, you and him both took advantage of one another after a few drinks and a confirmation that both of you were single.

Due to his failed marriage, Enji uses you as a rebound. It works out, really, since all you’re using him for is just to get back at his son. A “fuck you” and the pride- or something far more ugly and hurt- getting to tell him that you fucked his dad in his childhood home. And Enji gets to not be so alone anymore, gets to relieve his stress and use you in all sorts of harsh ways without a complaint. He gets to fuck somebody else while going through a mid-life crisis.

That’s all the relationship that it is, a ”fuck you” and a rebound.

But then he visits one night after a long day of work, and like father, like son, he wants to use you, forget about his day. Maybe he should have called you, checked to see if you were awake, because even if light peeks out from under the door, you could be asleep. He takes out your key, and tries not to think about the implication of having a key to your home, and opens the door. Enji has memorized the walk to your room already, could walk the exact number of steps and turn without pumping into the corner of the wall if he were blinded.

He can already feel his cock harden at the thought of getting to scoop you into his arms and have you ride him, to feel you clench and kiss his neck. His mouth salivates at the thought of kissing you. There are whimpers coming inside and his perverted mind, he knows he came at the right time- all it will be for the night is rushed kisses and a wet hole aching for him.

And then he opens the door, and you’re under the blanket, crying and taking shuddering breaths. You’re crying and you take notice of him. You can’t stop the tears, and you can’t mask the heaviness in your voice when you speak.

“Enji,” you sniffle and he stands at the doorway. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t-” you rub at your eyes and tears drip down the curve of your face- “I didn’t know you were coming.”

He thinks about when Rei would cry and how he’d snarl and yell. How his youngest would stand between them, and he thinks about all he would do is yell even more. Late in the night, he would apologize, and in the morning, he would fuck her, muttering against her skin about how he loved her.

His lips are dry and he can’t tell you that he just came here for sex.

“I- uh. I’m sorry.” You’re apologizing- for either the awkward situation or for crying. “I’m a mess right now.” You scratch at the space where your shoulder and neck meet and you leave lines behind. “You can leave if you want.” He can leave, because if you had told his son, Touya would have left in a heartbeat and you would cry about it, but you wouldn’t hold it against him. He would come back the next day and wouldn’t ask how you feel. Tears shine in your eyes, and you’re alone in your room, crying. “It’s fine,” your voice breaks and your lips tremble.

He thinks to himself that he doesn’t want to see another significant other cry because of him.

Quickly, he takes steps towards you, and he crouches by the bed. “What’s wrong?” His hand cups the side of your face, a tear catching on his thumb. “Did something happen?”

You start with a few heavy breaths, and your eyes shine and he can see himself in your eyes, kneeled on the floor, trying to comfort you. All you can do is cry, muttering about how work was awful and you can’t stand it anymore. You cry and he has such an urge to hold you, to run his calloused hands down your back and make it all better.

He isn’t sure when it happened, but he’s on your bed, stripped down to a white tank and his briefs, and you on his chest, with hands entangled in one another and his other hand running up and down his back. You fall asleep beside him, and he stares at you for a long time. His arm is asleep under you, and he makes no attempt to pull away from you.

In the morning, you wake up and make breakfast for him. He sits with you for it, and sits on the couch next to you, his arm spread against the back of the sofa watching the morning news.

“I’m sorry for last night,” you say without looking away from the television. “I- uh- if you have time, I can make it up to you.” Your hand is on the inner of his thigh, and you look up at him, parting your lips and grabbing his hand that rests behind you, feebly guiding it to the back of your head.

“Sorry, but I have to go to work.” He kisses the top of your head and stands up. “I’ll come by tonight.”

If it was Touya, you would have been sure that was a lie, bet your life on it and bet your favorite blanket too. But Enji does come by tonight, and he comes with flowers and takeout and he sits with you, and he kisses you goodnight before sleeping beside you. And in the morning, he’s still there, sleeping beside you with his face buried into your chest.

“You really didn't have to do all this,” you tell him, the petal of a tulip tickling the tip of your nose.

“Do you like them?” He feels like a child, standing awkwardly, hoping you’d say yes and waiting for your answer is the most nerve wracking thing he’s done all day. You nod and tell him you love them, keeping them close to you and unable to keep your hands off of the petals. And he swells with pride knowing you like what he got you.

Dating Enji is odd. He’s been married, but not once has he ever called you Rei. Never treated

He’s large and imposing. And he’s kind and soft. He likes having you close to him, always a hand on you when you’re within arm’s reach. All the little things are celebrated, and wants you with him.

you as her or compared you both. He kisses you good morning and kisses you goodnight. He makes you cry and apologizes. He holds you tight and tries to fix himself. You wonder what happened to Toiya to make him be so cruel, but you wonder who Enji was before you, why his ex-wife wanted to divoarce him. Why some of his children don’t call. He must have been mean before. You wait for the other shoe to drop, wait for him to yell at you and call you mean names until you cry. You wait for him to do something, but he never does.

He kisses you sweetly and makes room in his closet for you. He peels you mandarins and cracks open your pistachios. He holds your bags and carries you inside when you fall asleep on the drive home. He treats you so well, and it makes you want him.

Touya was so sure that you would come back to him. Whether it was for a quick fuck or actually wanting to get back together, he wasn’t sure, but he knew- or believed- that you would come crawling back.

And days turn to weeks and weeks to months, and he’s with someone else, hoping that you’d call him in the middle of the night, asking him to come over.

There’s something that he needs from his father, and when he walks into the smaller house than the one he grew up with- the family home being left to his mother- he can hear your laugh. He thinks to himself that he must be so stuck on you, that you must be the exact same way. It’s early in the morning, and he’s still a bit tired, a headache about to form in the back of his skull, and he thinks that it’s his imagination, until he walks into the kitchen, and sees you leaned against the counter, and his father with his hand on your hip.

Neither of you take notice of him until he clears his throat and you both tense, turning to look at him.

His father looks a bit ashamed, but you don’t. You wave at him and return to cleaning up the table where two sets of dinnerware rests, a plate once full of food, now just scraps. Touya’s stomach drops and he realizes what all this is. His father fucking his ex, and living with them in some faux happy daydream.

The worst part of whatever weird situation that he had the unfortunate luck of walking into, is that you actually look happy.

You wear a necklace, one far better than the one he could ever have given you, and his father is speaking to him, wrds all garbled up and nothing more than nonsense as he stares at you, ready for a punchline, ready for you to be mean and attempt to make him jealous by kissing his father in front of him. All you do is kiss his cheek.

“I’m gonna go throw the trash, ‘kay Enji?” Your fingertips tap at his jaw to turn him towards you, giving him a kiss and walking away.

You’re on a first name basis with his dad, and his father’s gaze follows you, watching you walk away with a smile he doesn’t think he’s ever seen him make.

“I know it must be odd-” Enji starts, and it goes unlistened to, only glimpses and phrases, actually making sense. “-it just happened-” , “They’re really nice-”, “I hope you don’t mind.”

The last sentence is such a slap to his face that he gets up and walks out, slamming the front door hard enough that picture frames rattle.

When he goes outside, he finds you there, the bag of trash beside you, and your phone held in your hand. You ask if he’s leaving already, and you wish him for a safe drive. You don’t even give him a spare glance.

He’s furious and he hates himself and you and his dad. He hates how happy you looked. How domesticated the both of you were- are. He hates how you moved on from him. That you meant it when you said you were done with his bullshit. He thought he would have had another chance. But he knows himself- he would have ruined it too, and even though the relationship was awful, he still went to you when you called him. He still bought you gifts and he still has your house keys.

“Do you live with him now?” His voice is emotionless, and there’s a hint of disgust in there to ask whatever void is growing in him.

You shrug. “Yeah. Got my own toothbrush here and everything.” You smile. “My place was starting to get cramped anyways.”

Inside, Enji calls for you, and quickly, you stand, wishing Touya a good day, and he stands outside with a bag of trash and a key with no home to return to.

#bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha enji #enji todoroki #endeavor x you #endeavor x reader #enji todoroki x reader #touya x you #touya todoroki #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x reader #i hoep you like this #this got me simping for endeavor #i think i wanna write for fatgum again #anyways im super tired #hope you like it!!#love you bye!!

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