Longing

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Credit: AryaMunn/ @AryaMunn
Scene: Slight Angst, smut, one-sided love.
Age: 20's
Specifics: Inspired by Bruno Mars: 'Locked out of heaven'.

( plz skip, this is so bad)
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He wasn't supposed to be feeling like this. In pain. Constantly in pain and suffering. Like his heart was being ripped out of his chest and being shoved back down through his throat, suffocating, choking, like hammering needles to close up his esophagus and gradually he looses oxygen.

That's how weak he felt around her.

But that's not how he should be feeling.

It started a long time ago- their 'arrangement'. No strings attached. It was just supposed to be a stress reliever for the both of them, a little bit of dangerous fun. Those little breaks in between their affairs- soft kisses, whispers of sweet nothings, the teasing, the joking, it became too much for his aching heart.

He couldn't remember when the words she'd say started affecting him. He couldn't remember when just a brush of her fingertips made his body tremble and break. He couldn't remember when she'd wrapped him around her finger.

Maybe it was when they started talking outside the bedroom. The daily check-ins and funny videos she'd randomly send throughout the day. When she'd lie her head in his lap after a long, hot night with him. Or maybe it was her smile. Her laugh when he'd loose at a simple game of cards after they freshened up from those sinful deeds.

When did it become so real?

23:47

She should be arriving by now. At his place, like usual.

His breathing increased. She never once admitted or showed any signs of genuinely interest in liking him. She was a tease, most of the time. And for Izuku, who already gave his heart a long time ago, just for it to be broken, now wore it on his sleeve just for her. He didn't want to set himself up like this. He knows she'll never seem him as anything more. But he was ready for this heartbreak, he'd let her be the one to destroy his last bit off sanity.

*knock

He already stood by the door, waiting for her. He welcomed her with his pearly whites, eyes glowing so naively, so obviously that he'd worship the ground she walked on.

Just one chance.

"Ochako," he calls out her name (heavenly), his heart skipped a beat.

"Izuku, I'd say it's been a while, but we're always on schedule," her playful talk just reminds him of what they actually are. A contract. Two strangers who met up at a forgotten location and deemed each other worthy of their time. Their needs and wants were reflective, as if looking into a mirror. They both wanted and received. Only, one of them dug themselves too deep into their private fantasy world. And he'd pay for it.

Taking off her shoes, her jacket and other unnecessary accessories, she walks passed him and he follows her like a dog on a leash in his own home.

He wants to reach out, welcome her with a kiss on the lips but they both decided that something like that was too intimate. Playing house wasn't part of the convant. Pretending they were a happy, normal couple was out of the question entirely. They were solely tools of pleasure for the other.

I want more.

He yearns for her touch the moment they hit the mattress, nude and in each other's arms. Their clothes were thrown across the room and scattered on the floor the moment he followed her. It was normal for it to happen without any previous foreplay or seduction, they only used each other for one thing.

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