Something Izuku didn't know—and honestly, it was better for the planet this way—was that somewhere out there, hidden in forums, fan blogs, and questionable corners of the net, thousands of stories had been written about The Hoodie Hero. Girls, women… and, bafflingly, more than a few men.
The stories ranged from sweet, tooth-rotting wholesome fics where he saved kittens and gave warm hugs… to the kind of filth that made even the green site blush. Bad grammar, unrealistic anatomy, absurd scenarios—yet somehow, they'd cultivated their own rabid fanbase.
Years back, before Yuu had even debuted, she'd stumbled into this world of Hoodie Hero "content." She'd always admired him as a symbol—cool, mysterious, untouchable—but once she saw those stories, the admiration twisted into something far more dangerous.
God only knew how many nights she'd fallen asleep with her phone in one hand and her other hand… occupied. How many times she'd really appreciated the detailed fan art from the green site, biting her lip as she whispered his name into her pillow.
And now… now she had the real Hoodie Hero in her living room. Breathing. Warm. Solid. Looking at her like she was prey he'd already decided belonged to him. The realization sent a shiver down her spine, and if she was being honest, a warm trickle of excitement down her thighs.
Shaking it off, she finally grabbed her phone and ordered the food, forcing herself to focus. A few deep breaths, a quick hair fix in the mirror, and she walked back out into the living room like nothing had happened—except for the slightly glazed look in her eyes.
Without a word, she eased herself back onto his lap, straddling him, her hands resting on his shoulders. "Let's continue, shall we?" she purred, letting her breath fan across his lips.
"Sure," he replied smoothly, his voice low. They leaned in, their mouths meeting in a slow, heated kiss. His hands roamed until one found the curve of her ass, gripping it firmly. He squeezed, making her gasp softly into his mouth.
' This will go down as the easiest bag in this whole series, ' he thought with quiet amusement, his thumb lazily rubbing over the denim.
Minutes later, the doorbell broke the moment. Yuu blinked, then slid off his lap, straightening her shirt before practically skipping to the door. She grabbed the food from the delivery man, muttered a quick "thanks," and shut the door in his face with zero hesitation.
She almost jogged back into the room. "So, should we eat now? Or later?" she asked, a playful lilt in her voice.
Izuku's smirk was instant. "I'm thinking of eating something else right now."
Her cheeks flushed instantly, her pulse skipping. "Oh, um, let me just go wash first, just to make sure," she stammered, turning on her heel.
But before she could take a step, his hand shot out, fingers curling around her wrist—firm, possessive.
"Nah," he said, his eyes dark with intent. "Don't wash."
Her breath hitched. She swallowed hard. And suddenly, the food was the last thing on her mind.
[A/N: Napoliean once said that]
Before she could respond, he hooked his hands under her knees and tugged her toward the edge of the couch. She gasped as her hips slid forward, the cool air hitting her heated skin.
Then he was kneeling between her legs, gaze locked on her like she was the only thing in existence. His hands slid up her thighs in slow, deliberate strokes—calloused fingertips dragging along sensitive skin until goosebumps erupted in their wake.
He pulled off her shorts revealing her wetness. Izuku smirked. ' This is gonna taste like a HDMI cable '
When his mouth descended, it wasn't rushed. The first touch was feather-light, his tongue tracing an unhurried line, as though testing her flavor. Then he licked again, slower, letting the tip swirl in small, deliberate circles that made her toes curl.
A shaky breath escaped her. "Ah—"
The sound made him hum against her, and the vibration made her hips twitch. He caught them easily, strong fingers digging into her thighs to hold her still. Then—he dove deeper.
His tongue rolled and twisted over her like he was writing his name in cursive, slow strokes alternating with quick, teasing flicks that made her gasp and clutch at the sheets. Each movement was messy, wet, and hungry—the sound of him devouring her filled the room, lewd and unrelenting.
Her head fell back. "Nn—ahh—oh—"
He didn't stop, didn't even lift his head. His tongue explored every contour, every spot, occasionally dipping lower only to come back up with deliberate pressure. He sucked, hard, then softened to a slow, lazy drag that made her thighs tremble.
She was getting louder, breath breaking into stuttered moans. "Hah—ah—mmm—"
The heat coiled tighter and tighter in her belly, every nerve lit up, every flick and swirl pushing her closer to the edge. She tried to squirm away, overwhelmed, but his grip only tightened.
"Mmh," he growled low against her, a sound that vibrated all the way through her.
That's when she broke.
Her climax hit like lightning, ripping through her so suddenly she cried out—loud, raw, and shameless. Her hips jerked against his mouth, legs shaking violently as the waves crashed over her again and again.
He didn't pull back. He rode it out with her, tongue still working, slower now, savoring her until she was slumped back on the bed, chest heaving, hair damp against her flushed face.
When he finally lifted his head, his lips were glistening, eyes dark and satisfied.
"We're not done," he rasped, thumb brushing over her trembling thigh.
'Fucken hell. It's hard doing this with a mask. One day I'll take it off though. Before I do that, I need to make her mine,' he thought, eyes never leaving her flushed, panting form.
He shifted forward, the couch dipping under his weight, until his chest hovered just above her bare skin. She tried to close her legs out of instinct, but he slid two fingers between her thighs, pushing them apart again—slow, firm, in complete control.
"You think you've had enough?" he asked, voice low, almost mocking. His thumb pressed lightly against her, not enough for satisfaction, just enough to make her twitch.
A shaky exhale escaped her. "I—"
"Don't answer," he cut her off, the corner of his mouth curling. "Your body will tell me."
He leaned down but didn't touch her with his mouth this time. Instead, his breath ghosted over her slick heat—warm, maddening. He let it linger, close enough for her to feel every exhale, before pulling back just an inch, repeating the cruel game.
Every time she tried to shift her hips toward him, he'd move back just enough so she missed him. His hand, however, never stopped its lazy torment—two fingers tracing slow circles around her entrance, never going inside, never pressing exactly where she needed.
Her whimper was half frustration, half need. "Please…"
He chuckled low. "Please what?"
"Touch me," she breathed, voice cracking.
"Oh, I am touching you," he said, dragging his fingers higher—up her stomach, between her ribs, over her breast—before sliding back down again, the pad of his thumb grazing her swollen clit for just a second before retreating.
She grabbed at his wrist, trying to pull him closer, but he only pinned her hands above her head with one of his, leaning down so his masked face hovered over hers. "You're cute when you beg," he whispered, his free hand trailing back down, slipping lower, lower…
Then—nothing. He stopped just before her sweet spot, his palm resting against her inner thigh.
Her frustrated groan filled the air.
"Not yet," he murmured, his tone almost cruel. "When I finally let you come again, you're going to scream my name without even knowing it."
TO BE CONTINUED
[ A/N: Kinda similar to Mitsuki but its not his fault all these womnn wanna be corrupted like those ntr hentai ]