This one is with Kirishima soooo....
“This way!” You call over your shoulder, Tamaki following you down the hallway in the warehouse easily, “They can’t have gotten far!” He nods, and then you notice something behind you. “Fuck,” you skid to a stop. The world moves in slow motion, and you reach out, trying to pull tamaki out of the way of a red beam of light shoots out from the villains hands. They step out from behind the dumpster they were hiding behind, grinning as a second beam of red light leaves their palms.
The first one would have hit Tamaki in the chest if you didn’t dive in front of him, but the second hits him in the shoulder. The impact of the beams pushes you backwards through the air and Tamaki wraps his arms around you, growing a clamshell to absorb the impact and friction of your fall. You lose momentum and end up with Tamaki on top of you, cradling your body to his chest.
“You okay?” He asks softly, letting you up. Your heart’s racing, “You look strange.” The blood is pooling in your cheeks, your breathing is ragged.
“You don’t,” you start to feel tingly, “You don’t feel it?” He blinks at you a couple times and then his eyes glaze over.
“O-hmygod,” He mumbles, and you can see the tent in his hero costume grow. “Please, I,” He presses his forehead to the wall of the building, “Soembarassed.”
“It’s um,” you swallow, palms aching with need as your clit throbs between your legs. “Fuck, Tamaki,” your voice is a hitched desperate whine, you ball your hands into fists. “Hurts.”
“It does,” he breathes, still not looking at you.
“We have to, we have to try to get back,” you whisper desperately and he nods.
“If I look at you,” He says, staring at the wall, “S’over. M’not gonna be able to stop. M so sorry.” He keeps staring at the wall thinking of the least sexy things he can think of, of his parents, of big lumpy sweaters of-”
“Nnhgh,” You moan, inching towards the door out of the back room. “Fuck, Tamaki,” you say, and you already sound so broken, so pretty, he nearly looses it right there, “It’s locked.” You lean against the cool metal of the door. “We’re, we’re friends right, you can, we should both just take care of it ourselves.”
“Oh thank god,” he chokes out, jamming a hand down his pants and rutting his hips with a high pitched whine. You reach down, underneath your skirt and rub at your puffy clit, but the sensation only drives you more mad. You jam two fingers inside yourself, scissoring them inside yourself. Tamaki’s heart hammers, it’s not like he’d never thought of you, like that, he thought of you all the time, in the shower, in the break room, whenever he was dragged out to socialize by Kirishima and Mirio, of course you were there, and of course, you looked distractingly beautiful. Something occurs to him,
“Did you and Kirishima, this morning-”
“No,” you choke out, “He had early patrol.”
“I’msosorry,” he groans, “Was hoping maybe it would help to think about. For you.” He closes his eyes.
“My hands are so SMALL,” you snap, tears of frustration in your eyes, “Compared to Kirishima’s,”
“Anyone’s hands,” Tamaki breathes, still refusing to look at you, terrified of how perfect he knew you’d look like this, furiously jacking off, imagining you squirming beneath him, imagining he was responsible for your sweet broken moans, “Are small, compared to Kirishima’s.” You can’t take it any more, you burst into tears, his heart breaks. “Are you, are you crying?”
