My Hero Academia: Heavenly Restriction

I stared at the powerstone counter, rubbing my tired eyes beneath my round glasses.

"Two thousand powerstones... I'm not even surprised anymore." The words came out in a weary sigh as I adjusted my position in my well-worn Stitch onesie. "You guys are absolute monsters."

My fingers traced over the ink stains on my sleeves - battle scars from countless late-night writing sessions. 

"This poor author will never get sleep." I let out a small laugh, reaching for my ever-present notebook. "But you know what? You've earned these extra words."

These readers... they really were something else.

"Let me tell you something." I pulled my knees up to my chest, the soft fleece of my onesie providing comfort as I addressed my audience directly. "When I started this challenge - this little game of 'hit this many powerstones, get more content' - I thought I was being clever."

The hood of my Stitch onesie fell over my eyes, and I pushed it back. "I really believed I was setting impossible goals. That I'd get to pace myself, take my time with the story." A wry smile crossed my face. "Shows what I know, right?"

I glanced at my butterfly-themed wall clock. 3 AM. Again. "You know, most authors would probably be annoyed at this point. Having their carefully laid plans completely demolished by their readers' enthusiasm."

My fingers found their way to a fresh page in my notebook.

"But here's the thing - and don't let this go to your heads - I kind of love it. Every time you blow past another milestone, every time you shatter another goal... it pushes me to be better. To write more. To dig deeper into these characters and this world."

I reached for my cold cup of tea, grimacing at the temperature but drinking it anyway. "Though I wouldn't mind if you occasionally let me get a full night's sleep."

Standing up to stretch, I caught my reflection in the window - tired eyes, messy hair, and the biggest grin on my face. "I suppose I should wrap this up. After all, these chapters won't write themselves, and you monsters have earned quite a few of them."

My fingers hovered over the keyboard.

"Though I have to ask - and this is purely out of curiosity - how many of you are actually sleeping? Or have you all just collectively decided that sleep is for the weak and powerstones are more important?"

The soft glow of my laptop screen illuminated my face as I prepared to dive back into the story. "Actually, don't answer that. I have a feeling I already know. You're all as sleep-deprived as I am, aren't you?"

A yawn escaped me, but my hands were already moving, ready to write. "Well, my wonderful, terrifying, powerstone-collecting monsters, let's get back to it. These characters won't torture themselves, after all."

"And hey - just between us…"

My voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

"The next few chapters? They're going to be wild. You think things are intense now? Just wait."

With one final adjustment of my glasses, I turned my full attention to the story at hand. "Now then, where were we? Ah yes..."

======

I climbed the stairs to my apartment. The faculty meeting had dragged on longer than expected, and my mind still churned with questions about the security breach. Something about it just didn't add up.

Laughter drifted through the door as I reached for my keys. Women's voices, one unmistakably Mom's, the other...

"Mom, I'm home," I called out, stepping inside.

"In here, honey!"

I rounded the corner to find Mom and Mitsuki Bakugo seated at our kitchen table, empty teacups and half-eaten cookies scattered between them. Aunt Mitsuki looked exactly as I remembered - ash blonde hair, sharp features, and that same fierce energy that her son had inherited.

Her eyes widened as she took me in. "Holy shit, Inko. You weren't kidding - he grew like a fucking weed!"

"Language," Mom scolded, but she was smiling.

"What? Look at him!" Mitsuki stood, circling me with an appraising eye. "Last time I saw you, you barely came up to my shoulder. Now you're..." She gestured vaguely at all of me. "When did this happen?"

"Growth spurt," I said, keeping my tone light. "Plus training."

"Training's right. Those arms could crush watermelons." She poked my bicep. "Bet the girls are all over you now, huh?"

"Mitsuki," Mom chided. "Leave him be. Would you like some tea, honey? There's plenty left."

"Thanks, but I should change first." I gestured to my uniform. "Long day."

"Oh right - congratulations on class president!" Mitsuki's grin turned sly. "Katsuki was real happy about that."

I imagined his reaction and had to suppress a smirk. "I'm sure he was thrilled."

"That boy needs to learn he can't win everything." She dropped back into her chair, snagging another cookie. "Though I hear you tried to turn it down?"

"News travels fast."

"Please, the hero gossip network is better than any surveillance system." She winked at Mom. "Remember the PTA meetings?"

"Oh lord." Mom covered her face. "The Great Bake Sale Incident."

"Now that was a scandal."

Their shared laughter carried years of friendship, comfortable and worn like a favorite sweater. It struck me then how much I'd missed this - Aunt Mitsuki's visits, the easy banter between them. Before everything with Katsuki went sideways.

"I miss having you boys around," Mitsuki said, as if reading my thoughts. "The house is too quiet these days. Well, except when Katsuki's home. Then it's all explosions and 'DIE TRASH' this and 'I'LL KILL YOU' that."

"Some things never change." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

But Mitsuki just laughed. "Right? I keep telling Masaru we should've named him 'Boom' and saved everyone the trouble." She studied me over her teacup. "You turned out better, I think. More like your mom."

"Mitsuki..." Mom's tone held warning.

"What? I can admit when I screwed up." She set her cup down with a sharp click. "We should've stepped in sooner with Katsuki. Maybe then..."

The unfinished sentence hung in the air. I shifted my weight, uncertain how to respond. Part of me - the part that remembered years of torment - wanted to agree. But the rest...

"The past is the past," I said finally. "We're all different people now."

Mitsuki's eyes softened. "Yeah. You definitely are." She turned to Mom. "You did good with this one, Inko. Real good."

Mom dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. "He did most of it himself."

"Still." Mitsuki stood, stretching. "I should head home. Make sure Katsuki hasn't blown up his room practicing for whatever rivalry he's got going with you now."

"We're not rivals."

"Tell that to him. Boy's been muttering about 'showing that nerd' all week." She rolled her eyes. "At least he's motivated."

She hugged Mom goodbye, then surprised me by pulling me into a quick embrace. "Don't be a stranger, kid. Door's always open."

"Thanks, Aunt Mitsuki."

She pulled back, hands on my shoulders. "You know, I remember when you used to follow me around at family gatherings. Had the biggest crush on me."

Oh god. "I was like three?"

"Still flattering." She patted my cheek. "Good to see you grew into those freckles. They suit you now."

With a final wave, she swept out the door, leaving behind the faint scent of nitroglycerin and memories of simpler times.

"That was nice," Mom said, gathering teacups. "Having her over again."

I helped clear the table, studying her expression. "You've been talking more lately?"

"We run into each other sometimes, shopping." She rinsed cups in the sink. "It's... good. To have my friend back."

The unspoken weight of lost years pressed against us. I touched her shoulder gently. "I'm glad."

She covered my hand with hers, squeezing once before returning to the dishes. "Are you heading to Camie's?"

"After I change. We're having a Mario Kart tournament."

"Just Mario Kart?"

"Mom!"

She laughed, flicking water at me. "I'm teasing. Go change. And tell Camie she's welcome for dinner anytime."

"I will." 

I changed quickly, trading my uniform for comfortable clothes. 

"Love you, Mom," I called over my shoulder, stepping into the cool evening air. The walk to Camie's apartment took barely a minute, my key slid into her lock. 

"I'm here."

"Hi babyyyy!" Camie's voice sang out from inside. I stepped through the door and froze.

She lounged against the kitchen counter in a pink rabbit onesie, the zipper deliberately lowered to reveal black lace underneath. Her hair spilled loose over her shoulders, and that familiar mischievous glint danced in her eyes.

"Tada!" She spun, producing a matching blue onesie from behind her back. "Instagram couple goals time!"

I caught the bundle of fabric she tossed my way. "You're serious."

"Dead serious." She hopped closer, the rabbit ears on her hood bouncing. "Come on, it'll be fun! Plus..." Her fingers traced my collar. "You can wear it like this."

The fabric felt surprisingly soft. "Fine. But only because you clearly planned this whole thing."

Her grin widened as I shrugged off my jacket. "Oh, I planned so much more. Wait till you see what else I bought."

I changed in her bathroom, pulling on a white tank top before donning the onesie. The zipper stopped mid-chest, mirroring Camie's style. It was... actually pretty comfortable.

"Perfect!" Camie clapped when I emerged. "Now for the haul!"

Shopping bags littered her coffee table. She pulled items out one by one - the promised skirt, several tops, a stack of manga that made Manga's speech bubbles appear in my mind. Then came smaller bags, their contents making my eyebrows rise.

"Camie." I picked up one particularly interesting package. "Did you get the most important one?"

She reached into her pocket, producing a small case of pills with a triumphant flourish. "This one?"

"Yep, unless you want mini me and you's running around..." I picked up the box, examining the dosage information.

"But our babies would be adorable." Camie pressed against my side, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Plus... it would secure my spot as your first wife..."

I laughed. "That spot was already secure for you."

"Really?" She pulled back, eyes sparkling. Her impression of Yaoyorozu's perfect posture emerged as she batted her eyelashes. "Oh, Mr. President," she purred, "I simply must review these important documents with you. Alone. Where no one can hear us... discussing policy."

"Pretty sure Yaomomo doesn't talk like that."

"But Mr. President," she continued, adding an exaggerated hair flip, "your leadership qualities are simply irresistible. The way you handle..." She paused for dramatic effect. "Paperwork."

I rolled my eyes. "Now you're just making stuff up."

"Am I though?" She draped herself across my lap. "I saw how she looked at you during the cafeteria incident. All 'my hero!'" 

"She was being polite."

"Mm-hmm." Camie's fingers traced patterns on my chest. "Just like she was being polite when she voted for you. And suggested private tutoring sessions. And-"

"Mario Kart?" I interrupted, reaching for the controllers. "Unless you're scared of losing again."

She snatched a controller, competitive fire igniting in her eyes. "Oh, it's on."

We settled on the floor, Camie positioning herself in my lap despite my protests about fair play. The character select screen appeared.

"Waluigi?" I raised an eyebrow as she made her choice. "Really?"

"He's misunderstood." She wiggled back against me as the race countdown began. "Like me."

"You're about as misunderstood as a neon sign." I chose my usual - Luigi. "Now stop trying to distract me."

"I would never." She ground her hips in a way that was definitely not accidental. "That would be unsportsmanlike."

The race started. I managed to grab an early lead despite Camie's "tactical advantages." 

"If you keep doing that," I warned as she shifted again, "there will be consequences."

"Like what?" She threw a green shell, missing completely. "You'll punish me, Mr. President?"

I caught her controller hand, guiding her character straight off the track. Her indignant squawk filled the apartment.

"That's cheating!"

"All's fair in love and Mario Kart."

She twisted in my lap, eyes narrowing. "This means war."

The next race devolved into chaos. Camie abandoned any pretense of playing fair, alternating between physical distractions and outright sabotage. I retaliated by exploiting every shortcut I knew, maintaining a lead through pure stubbornness.

"Stop being good at this!" She jabbed an elbow back, missing my ribs.

"Stop trying to make me crash."

"Never!" She launched a blue shell, cackling as it spiraled toward my character. "Vengeance is mine!"

I activated my mushroom boost at the perfect moment, dodging the explosion. Her outraged gasp was worth every practice hour.

"How did you- that's not- you planned that!"

"Maybe." I crossed the finish line first, setting my controller down. "Or maybe you're just predictable."

She spun to face me fully, straddling my lap. "Take that back."

"Make me."

Her eyes darkened. The controller clattered forgotten to the floor as she pressed closer, rabbit ears of her onesie brushing my forehead.

"I can think of a few ways," she murmured.

My hands settled on her hips. "We have school tomorrow."

"Mm." Her lips ghosted along my jaw. "So responsible, Mr. President."

"Camie..."

"Just one more race?" She pulled back slightly, eyes wide and innocent. "Winner takes all?"

I studied her face, noting the mischief poorly hidden beneath her angelic expression. "Define 'all.'"

Her grin turned wicked. "Oh, I'm sure we can think of something..."

Four hours later

Camie lay sprawled across my chest, her breathing still uneven, her skin slick with sweat. Her bunny onesie was somewhere on the floor. Her legs were tangled with mine, her thighs trembling slightly from the intensity of what we'd just done. Again. My hand rested on the small of her back, feeling the rise and fall of her chest as she tried to catch her breath. Her head was nestled into the crook of my shoulder, her hair a tangled mess, and her lips were parted as she mumbled something incoherent against my skin.

"Izu..." she slurred, her voice muffled and thick with exhaustion. "You're... you're a monster."

I chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in my chest, and shifted slightly beneath her. My free hand trailed down her side, skimming over her hip, and came to rest on her thigh. She twitched, a soft whimper escaping her as I brushed my fingers over the sensitive skin. Her legs parted instinctively, and I couldn't help but slide my hips closer, letting my still-hard length press against her.

"Camie," I murmured, "you're the one who said 'winner takes all.'"

She groaned, tilting her head back to look up at me with half-lidded eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from kissing, and her hair clung to her forehead in damp strands. She looked utterly wrecked, and yet, there was a spark of that familiar mischief in her gaze.

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd take all of me," she rasped, her voice cracking slightly. "Like... how are you still hard? I'm done. I'm cooked. I'm— mmmph!"

Her words dissolved into a muffled moan as I shifted again, my length sliding between her thighs. Her slickness coated me, the sensation sending a shiver through both of us. Her hands, which had been limp at her sides, suddenly gripped my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin as she arched against me.

"Izuku..." she whined, her voice trembling. "You're gonna kill me."

I smirked, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. "You're the one who challenged me to Mario Kart. You knew what you were getting into."

"I didn't think you'd turn into a fucking incubus!" she shot back, though the effect was ruined by the way her breath hitched as I rocked against her again. "Like... how is it even possible to be this big? And still hard? What are you, a goddamn machine?"

"You're exaggerating."

"Am I?" She pulled back slightly, her eyes narrowing as she glared up at me. "Do you see yourself? Like... I don't think I'm enough for you. I'm not enough for you. You could go all night, and I'm over here tapping out after, what, the third round?"

"Fourth," I corrected, my voice teasing, and she groaned, burying her face in my chest.

"Why are you like this?" she mumbled, her voice muffled against my skin. "It's not fair."

I chuckled, running my fingers through her hair, and she lifted her head to pout up at me. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes were glazed with a mix of exhaustion and lingering arousal. She looked beautiful. Perfect. Mine.

I leaned in, brushing my lips against hers, and she sighed into the kiss, her body relaxing against mine. Her hands slid up to cup my face, her fingers tracing over my jaw as I deepened the kiss, slow and deliberate. She moaned softly, her body responding instinctively, and I felt her hips shift, seeking more friction.

"You're insatiable," she murmured against my lips, her voice breathless.

"And you love it," I replied, my voice low and teasing.

She groaned, pulling back slightly to glare up at me, but there was no real heat in her gaze. Just that same playful mischief I'd come to love. "Yeah, yeah. You're amazing. Best boyfriend ever. Can we sleep now?"

I chuckled, leaning in to kiss her forehead again. "Yeah. We can sleep."

She sighed, her body going limp against mine, and I shifted to pull the blanket over us. Her head rested on my chest, her breathing slow and even, and I ran my fingers through her hair, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

"Don't think this means we're skipping training tomorrow morning."

She groaned, but there was no real protest in it. Her body relaxed against mine, and within minutes, her breathing evened out, her exhaustion finally overtaking her.

I lay there, holding her close, and let my eyes drift shut. The warmth of her body against mine, the sound of her breathing, the feel of her skin against my fingertips—it was perfect. She was perfect.

And if I had my way, I'd keep her like this forever.