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next time

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Ochako doesn’t bat an eye when the door to her office clicks open long after everyone else has gone home. Doesn’t even look up from the stack of paperwork she’s filling out—there’d been a small-scale villain attack in the center of the city earlier in the day, the police think it might be related to a new villain organization—just sighs, scrawls her name across the bottom of one of the papers and places atop the ever-growing stack. 

“I’m not in the mood today,” she says sharply as she takes the next paper off a seemingly endless stack and begins skimming it. She doesn’t even bother mentioning that it’s a crime to break into her office after hours. 

“For what? Sex, or me?” Asks a familiar honeyed voice. Ochako hears the door shut and then the click of heels across the floor, stopping just in front of her desk. 

A shadow falls over her, blocking the light. With a huff of annoyance Ochako lifts her head, brushing a stray lock of brown hair out of her face as she meets Himiko’s intent golden gaze. A lazy, satisfied smile stretches across Himiko’s face as Ochako takes her in, eyes widening unconsciously. 

Himiko’s dressed up like she’s on her way to a nightclub—or just leaving one, considering the time. Her silky blond locks have been piled atop her head in a sloppy updo, several strands of hair falling loose to frame her face, artfully messy. She’s wearing a skintight dress, the hemline of which barely skims the tops of her thighs, and it hugs every line of her slender body as if it were molded to her skin. It’s a striking scarlet red, the same color as her lips, and it suits her perfectly. The sight of her like this makes Ochako lose focus for a moment, almost makes her forget that she has at least another two hours worth of paperwork to complete. Almost. 

Scowl deepening, Ochako reaches for the mug of lukewarm coffee balanced on the edge of her desk and raises it to her lips. Into the mug, she grumbles, “either. I’m busy.” 

Himiko reaches a hand out and fiddles with Ochako’s stapler. Her nails have been painted to match her dress. “That’s never stopped you before,” she says, her smile turning wolfish as she stares the Hero down. 

She’s not wrong, but Ochako still slams her mug down a bit harder than necessary in response. She doesn’t like to think about any of her weak points, really, but especially not this one. This twisted, depraved, amazing thing she’s had with Himiko since she became a Pro. If Himiko’s status as a former member of the League of Villains wasn’t enough, she’s still a dangerous criminal who’s been tied to numerous illegal organizations over the years. It’s Ochako’s responsibility, her duty as a Hero, to take Himiko down. She knows she should be leaping out of her chair right now, tackling the blonde to the floor and then dragging her to the nearest police station for questioning. 

But she doesn’t. Instead, Ochako watches as Toga slinks around her desk. Grabs the back of her chair and pulls it out. Kicks a milky white leg up over one of Ochako’s muscular thighs, then settles herself down upon it like it’s where she’s meant to be. Ochako doesn’t protest when Himiko slides herself closer, closer, until her thigh is pressed directly against the upper inseam of Ochako’s pants. Instead, she reaches out and settles her hand on the villain’s waist, feeling little tingles of excitement dancing up her spine when Toga reciprocates by looping her arms across Ochako’s shoulders and leaning in.

“We’ll just have to be quick, then,” Himiko purrs, nibbling at the shell of Ochako’s ear. “Wouldn’t want to keep you from your work for too long, Uravity .”  

Ochako can feel the slick heat of Himiko’s bare sex against her thigh, and arousal sinks low into the pit of her stomach. Her traitorous heart beats faster in her chest when Himiko rolls her hips back and then grinds forward against Ochako’s thigh, a low moan falling from her painted lips as she does so. The motion causes Himiko’s knee to press harder against the fabric covering her own pulsing slit, making Ochako gasp in pleasure. She digs her fingers into Himiko’s hips and forces her down against her thigh again, delighting in the little shudder that wracks the villain’s body. 

“Fuck, Himiko,” Ochako moans, losing herself to the pleasure that accompanies each roll of Himiko’s hips, “you’re so wet. ” 

In response, Himiko dips her head down and takes Ochako’s plush pink lips in a messy, rough kiss. Their tongues roll together in tandem with the rock of their hips, sloppy and uncoordinated in their desperation for release. More than once their teeth knock together, but neither woman can find it in herself to slow down for even a moment. Himiko grinds herself down onto Ochako while Ochako ruts against her thigh with rapidly mounting excitement. 

“Can’t help it,” Himiko gasps against Ochako’s lips when the woman’s hands stray lower, cupping her ass and using it as leverage to amplify the friction as their bodies slide together. “S-Saw you at the rescue today, you look so fucking good in your suit—ah! Oh, f-fuck, just like that—”

Ochako trembles beneath Himiko, too lost in the pleasure to reply as she mindlessly rolls her hips in time to the delightful rhythm they’ve created. The heat between her legs grows with every press of Himiko’s knee into it, every little moan that leaves the villain’s mouth, every tug the woman gives to the messy brown hair curled around her fingers. The sheer force of her own arousal makes Ochako dizzy, makes her curl her fingers tighter into Himiko’s soft skin, gripping her with a desperate force. 

Himiko lets out a shuddering breath, leans in and kisses her hard. “F-Fuck, I’m close,” she pants. 

“Me too,” Ochako replies, her voice muffled against Himiko’s lips as she keens into the kiss. 

Himiko moans against her mouth and grinds herself down against Ochako as hard as she can, making Ochako let out a desperate little sob against her mouth. They’re both approaching their limit; Ochako is writhing in her seat, bucking desperately into the villain, while above her Himiko rolls her hips down hard and fast, a stream of breathless curses pouring from her swollen lips and into Ochako’s eager mouth. 

“Oh, yes, yes , right there, please, I’m—!” Ochako’s voice breaks off into a desperate cry as she comes, the world around her cutting to white noise.

The sinfully sexy cries of the hero beneath her do Himiko in, making her gasp and spasm as she finds her release. A chorus of moans fills the quiet of Ochako’s office as they rock feebly into one another, riding out their climaxes, shuddering through the aftershocks. Moments later Himiko collapses atop of Ochako, spent and satisfied. Ochako’s sags in her chair, chest heaving, and she gives Himiko’s ass one last squeeze before her hands fall away to rest limply against her trembling thighs. 

They stay that way, sweaty and panting, until Himiko feels steady enough to get back to her feet. She pulls away, sliding off of Ochako’s thigh, and gives the blissed-out Hero a satisfied smile. Himiko takes pride in being able to turn one of the public’s most beloved Pro Heroes into a sweaty, flushed mess, even though she knows she must not look much better. Her skirt has been bunched up around her thighs from Ochako’s bruising grip, and she imagines there must be lipstick smeared across her face much the same way it’s been smeared across Ochako’s.

“See you next time?” Himiko drawls, wobbling around Ochako’s desk on unsteady legs. The heels aren’t helping, so she bends down low to kick them off and take them in her hand. Then she turns around, catches Ochako staring, and winks. 

Ochako’s adorably round cheeks go red, but she doesn’t offer any response. Just swivels her chair back around to face her desk and takes a paper off the stack, setting it in front of her. Himiko turns away with a satisfied smirk, knowing full well that Ochako is watching her leave. The feeling of eyes on her back remains until she’s out the door and ducking into the bustle of the heavy summer night.