Chapter Text
"So... Yeah, I don't think... look, I'm not trying to control you, or tell you who to be friends with or anything- but... even I struggle with NOT touching you." Mirio murmurs. "I'd... I'd really appreciate it if you did your best to... try and not be alone with guys?" Mirio winces. "God that sounds-" He runs a hand through his hair. "I swear I'm not accusing you of anything or trying to be possessive-"
"No, Mirio, I understand." I agree, nodding slowly, pressing my fingers gently against his chest. His heartbeat throbs under my palm- fast, erratic. "It's not possessiveness. It's just..." I hesitate, trying to articulate the unspoken fear lingering between us.
His jaw tightens. "If something happened to you- because I wasn't there- AGAIN-" His voice cracks, and I press closer, silencing him with a kiss.
The truth settles between us, unshakable- trust isn't the problem. It's the weight of loss already carved into us- The Hassaikai, Bakugo, Tamaki's spiral- that makes every separation feel like tempting fate.
"Okay," I whisper against his lips, sealing the promise. "No more reckless bets with the universe and your quirk's effects." He exhales sharply, relief flooding his grip as he pulls me tighter- like I might vanish if he loosens his hold for even a second. "Uhm... can we... talk about Nezu?" He whispers, I hum.
"What about him?"
"He's... an animal, right? But he's still... male." Mirio cleared his throat. "Are we absolutely sure he won't be affected, like everyone else-"
"Well, it's not everyone." I meet his eye. "Aizawa and Yamada aren't effected like that- they're... super paternal, ,more than anything. My dad and brothers weren't effected at all." I note. "Fatgum didn't ever seem interested in anything like that- and- well, Like, Sero's never been weird, or Aoyama- despite being around as much as everyone else. I think it's pretty- like- subjective?"
Mirio exhales slowly, fingers tracing idle circles against my bare shoulder. "Yeah, but Nezu isn't exactly... human. He's got animal instincts we can't predict." His grip tightens unconsciously. "And with your quirk evolving the way it is..."
The unspoken implication hangs between us- my quirk doesn't just attract- it amplifies existing desires. We've seen it turn mild crushes into obsessions, professional admiration into something darker. I press my forehead against his collarbone, breathing in the scent of sweat and hay. "If he was going to react, he would've by now. We've been alone together a lot, lately."
Mirio's laugh comes out strained. "Yeah, but you weren't..." His hand ghosts down my side, over the curve of my hip. The mattress creaks as he rolls us over, pinning me beneath him with sudden intensity. His next words come out rough against my neck, "Let's just agree- no more private meetings in his office after dark."
I arch into him with a gasp as his teeth find that spot behind my ear, our earlier tension dissolving into something hotter. Outside, Maisey's whines turn to resigned sighs- she knows this rhythm too well. The cornfields whisper against the window screen, but all I hear is the hitch of Mirio's breath when my nails scrape down his back. Some fears can't be reasoned away- only fucked into silence.
"We said we'd talk." I remind him, and he nods.
"We are talking." He hums. "I gave my boundaries- I want yours now."
He kisses down my chest, between my breasts, laving a tongue over my nipple. "Talk, I'll listen." He promises, locking his lips over the peak, and suckling gently.
I gasp, fingers tangling in his hair. "I- fuck- I don't want you holding back ever." I manage, my hips rolling against his thigh. "If I'm being too much, say it. If I'm pushing too hard- tell me." My breath hitches as his teeth graze sensitive flesh. "And stop making promises you'll regret later."
Mirio pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his pupils blown wide. "Like what?"
"Like-" I press a hand to his chest, pushing until he rolls onto his back. I straddle his hips, pinning his wrists above his head. "Promising you'll handle my dad's killer." His breath catches as I grind down. "That's my fight. You can help- but don't take it from me." I lean down, my lips brushing his ear. "And stop pretending you don't want to wreck me every time we're alone." His hips jerk up instinctively, a groan tearing from his throat as I sink down onto him. "There's my Mirio."
"Fuck-" He meets my eye as I ride him, slowly, he swallows. "Can... can I say something and- and you... you won't get mad?"
"I'll probably get mad." I snort. "What is it?"
"Tamaki... told me something." He admits, I pause, halfway sunk on him.
"I didn't know you two were talking."
"We aren't, but I haven't blocked his number." Mirio swallows, and stares at the place we connect. "He said... you were hanging out with the LOV. You were out for revenge after you figured out what Dabi did-" I stare at him, eyes wide. "He admitted to digging through your head with your quirk, removing pieces of memories- just enough to know what was going on with you. He told me... everything." He whispered, hands going loose on my hips, allowing me to pull off if I want- he's not trying to trap me here- why does it still feel like I'm being crushed?
"I-" my throat feels like it's closing up.
"I'm not angry- at all- I- really, I understand it, all of it- your reasoning, your... your thought process- Tamaki SHOWED me, everything- he let go of all the memories and stuff- he said he wanted to make sure I knew... how much help you actually need, because it's pretty clear you'll never tell anyone."
My hands shake where they press against his chest. The room tilts, the scent of hay and sex suddenly cloying. Mirio's grip tightens, his thumbs rubbing circles on my hips- anchoring me to the present while my mind fractures under the weight of all those missing hours, those stolen intentions. Tamaki saw everything. Tamaki told him everything.
"And you're still here?" The question rasps out, raw as the fox's midnight cries. Mirio's answering smile is all sharp edges and shattered glass, his eyes wet with something too close to reverence.
"Where else would I be?" The bed creaks as he sits up, pressing our foreheads together. "I'm IN, Katie, please, just let me help- let me keep you safe- I- I've failed too many times because you don't tell me anything, please- No more lone-wolf vengeance shit." His teeth graze my lower lip. "Please?"
I taste copper where my teeth sink into my own cheek. The silence stretches taut between us, filled only by the rustle of cornstalks outside and the wet click of Maisey grooming herself downstairs. Mirio's hands tremble against my thighs- not with restraint, but with the effort of holding himself still when every muscle screams to wrap around me and never let go.
"Okay," I whisper, and it feels like surrender. His exhale floods the hollow of my throat, warm and damp. Then his mouth is on mine, swallowing my shaky breath whole- not triumph, but relief so thick it borders on desperation. His fingers dig into my hips hard enough to leave bruises, like he's trying to fuse our skeletons together through sheer force of will.
Outside, the fox cries again- closer now, just beyond the window. Mirio growls against my collarbone, rolling us over with enough force to make the headboard slam against the wall. "Mine," he pants between kisses that taste like salt and stolen time. Not a question anymore. A vow. The cornfields sway in agreement as I arch beneath him, letting the lie of control dissolve into the sweat-slick space between our bodies.
"Hawks is trying to trick me into marrying him." I speak up, finally, He pauses, and sits back, wrapping his hands around my waist.
"Why?"
"He wants to get me pregnant, is the working theory. The commission... wants to guarantee the bloodline- make sure my quirk gets passed down. The healing is too valuable to just leave with me, and they want control over the offspring."
Mirio's grip shifts- not loosening, but tensing in a way that sends a tremor through my ribs. His exhale is slow, measured, the way he breathes before a fight. "When were you going to tell me?"
"Technically, I just did." My laugh comes out brittle. The sheets beneath us are suddenly too rough, the scent of sex too thick.
Outside, the fox screeches- closer now, right under the window. Mirio's jaw clenches, his pupils swallowing the blue of his irises as his gaze flicks to the darkened glass and back. "Guess we're taking Hawks down next," he says, voice low- not a suggestion, not a question. A fact.
"It's not his idea, or his fault- he's just following orders." I remind. "There's bigger fish." I reason.
"While we're being honest- I want you to stop smoking." He huffs. "It smells bad- and even if you're healing yourself and me- I still- can your quirk even cure cancer? Like- Cancer are just cells that don't know how to stop growing, I don't think your quirk could fix that." The silence stretches thick between us, broken only by the distant cry of the fox now prowling the treeline. Mirio's fingers tighten around my wrist- not restraining, just present- as he waits for an answer I don't have. My pulse thuds against his grip. Can my quirk tell the difference between healing and harm when the rebellion comes from within?
"I hate your hairstyle." It comes out of nowhere, but I push through. "You look dumb with it slicked back like that- I know all you guys wanna look like AllMight, but he's ugly- you are so much cuter when your hair is all fluffy and left alone."
"Rude." He gasps, but there's no heat behind it.
"Seriously, ask- like, anyone. You're so much cuter with your hair down." I insist.
"I think you should do more of the self care stuff." He hums. "Actually brushing your hair for once, maybe like- lipgloss or something. Not for like- to be pretty, or anything- but because I don't think you spend enough time like- thinking about yourself? Taking care of yourself. You do this thing, where you just let shit go wrong and trust your quirk to take care of you- like walking in shoes that tear up your feet 'cos they heal, or not wearing sunscreen because the burns are healed immediately- but I... I think it's probably important to be a little nicer to yourself?"
His thumb brushes my cheekbone, rough from years of training, yet impossibly gentle now. The scent of rain-washed earth drifts in, mingling with the musk of our bodies tangled in sweat-damp sheets.
"I hate when you're right," I murmur, letting my forehead drop against his collarbone where the skin still bears the crescent-moon indents of my teeth. His pulse thrums against my lips, steady as tractor engines in July. "Fine. But only if you stop pretending you don’t want to bite me every time I bend over near you."
Mirio's laugh shakes through me, rich and unguarded, before his mouth finds the shell of my ear. "Deal," he breathes, teeth grazing the sensitive spot beneath my earlobe. "You do have like- the most amazing ass. Seriously."
"Whatever." I snort.
"You are certainly one to talk, with your obsession with biting my biceps and pecs." he flicks my forehead, I giggle.
"You have the most perfect tits." I tease, he snorts, and pulls me into a crushing hug.
"I want to get rid of Hawks." he mumbles, I sigh. "Katie, he RAPED you, and now he's trying to do it again- I know you WANT to believe he didn't, but he has no PROOF that he didn't. Please-"
"What do you mean by 'get rid of'?" I blink.