Erase Herゾごホ

教えて、パパ - teach me, daddy

I hummed gently against the sound of the oil popping and fizzing in my pan. Cooking hasn't always been my strong suit. But when you live alone for so long like I have, it's something you pick up along the way. For survival. I never made anything extremely tasty or something that required a variety of odd and rare spices, I usually stuck to cereal, instant ramen, the saddest looking sandwiches, and if it was a real special occasion: eggs and bacon. And yet here I was, pushing my wooden spoon into some unknown mix of meat and rice.

"You're overcooking it." He mumbled into my shoulder, his mouth pressed into my skin as his arms lazily draped themselves around my waist. I tilted my head back so our cheeks pressed against one another.

"I am not." I pouted, making him give me a dissatisfied 'humph' as he pushed his nose into my hair, inhaling my scent with a deep sigh.

"You smell like blueberries." He muttered and I let out a yelp as a light draft of smoke wafted up my nose. Scraping my spoon against the bottom of the pan, I let out a nervous laugh over, my now, burnt lunch. "I told you, you were overcooking it." I grunted in annoyance, moving the pan off the hot stove top as I moved to get a plate from my cabinets above. I turned to face the lanky man that prevented me from doing so by using me as a personal pillow. He straightened out, his hands still on my hips, his eyes still tired. He wasn't in his hero costume today and it was a Saturday so he must've had a day off. Today he was in a grey t-shirt (this being the first time he wasn't wearing black), and baggy sweats. His hair was disheveled and messy, per usual, covering most of his face as he blinked in front of me, a small smirk flashing across his lips as he realized I was most definitely gawking. "Do you need a plate?" He asked, reaching above me and opening a cabinet. His torso stretched in front of my eyes and his shirt rose so I could barely see the skin above the waistband of his sweats. Why is that so sexy? I felt my fingers inch towards his chest, wanting to spread my palms against it and pull him into a tight embrace. But I hesitated. Why? I heard him clank around in the storage above me and I glanced up, smiling as I saw him struggle to yank a plate out from underneath all my tupperware. "Who stacks a million containers on top of fine China?" He asked with a huff as he successfully removed one plate. One. Is he leaving? I frowned to myself, turning away from him and back to my stove.

"Oh stop being such an old man." I joked with a small laugh. He hummed at my teasing, his arms pulling me back into his body as he resumed the position he was once in. His lips buried in the crook of my neck as he lightly kissed my skin. "You smell like..." He whispered, his hands snaking up the front of my shirt as his fingers pressed against the naval of my stomach.

"Blueberries?" I finished for him and he shook his head.

"Home." He corrected me softly, my heart fluttering at his words. Home. He said I smelled like home. Doesn't he know he's smelled like my safe place since the second night we slept together? When he offered me coffee out of pleasantries and asked for my number in the most proper way. His light kisses became harder, then suddenly he was sucking, biting, his grip on my skin tightened as I arched my back at the pleasuring feeling he sent through my body. It is true he'd been at my house for the last two hours. What started out as a quick fuck turned into movies, sex, cooking, and more sex. I don't think he had been apart longer than five minutes. And it seemed we both loved every second of each other. The way he'd listen to me rant about the silliest of things, casually inputting his opinion here and there. Or how his eyebrows would furrow angrily when I suggested pineapple on pizza for lunch and he then decided it was time  for me to learn how to cook something that didn't burn. Even though I had technically already failed that part. I rolled my hips against his crotch, a teasing smile on my lips as he groaned out of annoyance.

"What are you gonna do now that, that silly little scarf of yours isn't here to tie me up?" I joked, pushing against his growing bulge harder as he sucked in a breath of air. He flipped me over, pressing my lower back into the kitchen counter as one hand gently wrapped around my throat, the other delicately fumbling with the button of my jean shorts.

"First of all, it is not a scarf." He mumbled, his hand finally squeezing inside my bottoms. "Secondly, there are plenty of other ways I can punish you, (y/n)." I pressed my knees together and bit my lip at his words. Shouta was not one to talk much during sex, and that was fine because neither was I. The sex between us was usually too intense for me to even think straight, much less fathom a dirty well put together sentence. So hearing him say these dirty and explicit things made me aching for more to escape those thin lips. Oh pleaseeeee do. As I ground my teeth, smoke began to seep out of my mouth making my eyebrows furrow at the sight. Why would my quirk come alive now? At a time like this. I felt my face heat up as Shouta tilted his head, watching me with interest a small smile playing on his lips. "Have I flustered you so badly your quirk activated, (y/n)?" He knew he was in complete control now and he was enjoying it a little too much. He forced my chin upwards, pressing his index finger against my jaw so my lips parted and beautiful cloud of smoke danced in the air. "Someone isn't paying attention to my teachings." He mumbled, seemingly mulling over what to do next. Use his quirk and put me out of my misery or relish in my vulnerable state like the fucking sadist he was. "This deserves more punishment than I was initially intending, (y/n)." He tsked. The smoke was beginning to suffocate me. I started to let coughs slip, my body twitching for lack of air, my brain starting to panic but also getting reeeealllly turned on. It was a confusing time alright. Two of his fingers dipped inside me, making me let out an audible squeak as sparks erupted from my throat. "Do you want me to make it stop?" He asked and I wasn't sure if he was being genuine or teasing me. Either way I couldn't even find the breath to respond. Between his fingers pumping in and out of my warmth and my own quirk cutting off my airway, I was a sopping wet mess. His hair shot up, his eyes gleaming a bright red for a moment as he erased my quirk, the smoke halting as I gasped loudly for the air to rush into my deprived lungs. Shouta's grip tightened on my throat as he pressed deeper making me moan in pleasure.

"Now, shall we begin today's lesson?"

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My eyes fluttered open. The beaming sunlight making my head throb more and more as I awoke in a very familiar bed, belonging to a very familiar shaggy and lanky man. I frowned, remembering my drunken night before and how Shouta carried me home. The god of this world must hate me.

Because I woke up alone.