My Lover Academia: MHA x Reader [Requests OPEN!]

🌟🍋 Earn It (Dom!Iida x Female!Reader)

*♡request for Shaelynn376♡*

You're already standing when he walks in.
Your heels click on the marble as you straighten your skirt, pretending like you haven't been watching the elevator count down for the last five minutes. The executive floor is quiet at this hour, long after the others have gone home. Just the soft hum of the city below and the tension thickening the longer you hold his gaze.

Tenya Iida doesn't hurry when he steps into his office. He doesn't need to. His presence alone commands obedience.

You follow him in, as expected, and wait silently at the door. He sets his briefcase down with methodical precision, then turns to you, adjusting his tie.

His eyes trail down your form, sharply, calculating. Your blouse is still buttoned all the way up-good girl-but he doesn't smile.

"You were late submitting the numbers for the quarter," he says coolly.

"I-"

His hand lifts. Not to touch you. Just to silence.

"You were told the deadline. Reminded of it. Yet you ignored it."

You swallow. "I didn't ignore it, I just-"

"Disobeyed." He says, voice dropping.

The word slices through you. It's not the reprimand that makes your thighs clench-it's the restraint in his tone. The control. How easily he could break you down if he wanted, but chooses instead to make you squirm under the weight of his discipline.

"You know how I feel about disobedience." He says, stepping closer.

You nod.

"Use your words."

"I know, sir."

He's close enough now that you can smell the faint spice of his cologne-sharp, clean, expensive. His fingers reach up slowly and undo the top button of your blouse. You don't stop him. You never would.

"I reward effort," he says, low in your ear. "I reward initiative. Discipline. But lately..." he clicks his tongue, disappointed. "You've been testing boundaries."

You shiver.

"I ask myself: is she forgetful? Or is she begging to be reminded?"

Your mouth parts, breath hitching. He notices.

"You like pushing me," he murmurs. "You like it when I take control after you've acted out."

You nod, shakily. "Yes, sir."

His lips curl, but it's not kind. It's a warning.
"I'm not going to fuck you tonight."

The words hit like a slap, your knees nearly giving way.

"Because fucking is a reward," he says, voice sharp as steel, "and you haven't been good."

Your breath catches. You've never been denied before.

He hooks a hand into your waistband and drags you forward until your body is flush against his. You feel how hard he is, the heat of him through the layers. But still, he doesn't move to unbuckle your belt. Doesn't undo his own.

"You'll get on your knees," he says, guiding you down, slow and firm. "And you'll thank me for the privilege."

You nod again, almost dizzy with the need, your fingers trembling as you settle before him.

"And maybe," he breathes, looking down at you with that unshakable calm, "maybe if you do well enough, I'll consider letting you come."

You kneel before him on the polished wood floor, your palms resting on your thighs, spine straight despite the heat curling low in your belly. His gaze bears down on you, relentless and calm-watching, judging, deciding.