Solanna

Well.. it’s thanks to these tutoring and study sessions that you two got so close. Soon, library study sessions turned into cafe studys, cafe studys turned into cafe visits without books and just chatting. Which eventually turns into sleep overs, sleepovers where you sleep in the bed together. You’re sharing straws. You’re buying breakfast for eachother, every seat next to you both are automatically saved for the other.

You don’t know what you guys are. You sure do want more. The way izuku twirls his pen in his thick calloused fingers makes you think of how he would swirl and rub your twitchy needy clit, or how he would pinch your swollen perked nipples before latching on with his pouty lips. how much pressure would he use? Would be just as good at fucking as he is at Math and English? God you can only imagine.

You now have wet dreams of your best friend. You cant stop thinking of that damn green headed nerd. Your waking up soaking wet way more often then you want to. You now rub your poor needy clit every morning to the hazy memories of that green eyed boy drinking all your honey slick from your pussy in your dream. Lets just say you cum in record time.

But it all comes to a head on this totally normal Thursday afternoon. Izuku invited you over to his dorm, saying his roommate was gone for the next two days and that you can stay over for the night and can help him study for him teachers exam. ‘need my favorite moral support!’ As he texted.

You never say no to that.

Well, now you’re there, sitting beside the green haired genius as he nervously bounces his leg, your own thigh brushing against his. He twirls the pen is his hand as he stares at his laptop. His cheeks are bright red and he is biting his lip. Could it be because you came with a short top with spaghetti straps that didnt even try to hide your nipples, or a skirt so short that when you set your bag down before you had sit beside him, you essentially showed him your whole world up there? Which you planned. Of course.

“You sure are distracted.”

Your sudden comment made him jump, his pen falling under the desk.

“A-Ahh I’m sorry!! I’m so distracted t-today.. I don’t know why..” Izuku mumbled out in embarrassment. Before he could reach for his pen, you’re already under the table grabbing it where it fell right infront of him. “Its okay Izu, I got… it…”

You look over to where Izuku is sat, seeing his pants so strained his button is just barely holding on. No wonder he’s so distracted. He’s horny out of his mind. With a delighted smile on your face, you move closer, running your hands up his thighs as he flinches hard.

“Wh-What are—”

“Izu you can’t study because you’re thinking with your cock, not that brain of yours.”

You palm him through his strained jeans, his hips jerking into your giving hand as you rub his needy cock behind all that fabric. It’s just not enough. “H-Haa.. I-I’m sorry.. when you b-bent over I—“

“I know, glad you liked it. I’m just glad I’m not alone here..” you purr to the flustered man, popping open that button and zipping down those jeans. You spy the growing wet spot on his boxers, biting your lip at how worked up you made him. Leaning forward, you flatten your tongue against the wet spot to get a taste moaning at the salty, tangy, and mildly sweet flavor. Just how you like it. You hear Izuku shudder from above, his hands grabbing the edge of the table. “H-Hey… hnn.. w-wait a sec… you dont—“

Before he can finish, you’re pull down his jeans all the way to his ankles, his boxers follow suit. The moment his cock pops out you notice just how in need of help he is. He’s leaking profusely, weeping copious amounts of pre and twitching with desperation. His tip is read and angry, it looks painful, his green curls hair framing his base covering in his leaking pre.

“Ohh Izuku.. how will you ever get anything done when you’re as hard as a board..”

Not to mention, hes fucking huge. Thick too, you can barely wrap your hand around it when you do take hold of his needy dick. His veins popped out and blue. His hips jerk into your hand, making you hold his hip down to tame this desperate guy. You hum out as you press a kiss to his tip, pre leaking against your lips and stay against your lips in a string as you pull back. You hear a loud thud on the table, izuku’s head falling down onto it as lets out a whine.

“Please baby… please.. help me.. i need.. it so badly..”

As if he needed to tell you twice, popping his head right into your mouth. You feel Izuku’s entire body shudder from the feel, gasping as you hum around him. “H-hooo my… nnn.. baby.. I.. feels so..” you bob your head on his cock just on his tip. Your hands rub his inner thighs as you feel them begin to tremble and tense, goosebumps spreading along his skin at your touch.

“Nng.. kknn.. haa.. like that don’t you.. what if i do deeper huh? Gonna lose it?” Izuku gasps at your words, his hands coming off the table to softly grab your hair. “N-No I wont i— i wanna hold it in..” you hum in amusement at his answer, slowly taking him back in and taking him deep into the back of your throat, feeling it twitch and pulse.

“A-Ahh.. woah..”

Your throat contracts around his needy cock, making him let out a shocked gasp and thrust up his hips quickly. You loved this, loved how reactive he was. Izuku moans out softly, rolling up his hips and tightening his hand into your hair more, biting his lip

“I-It… h-how.. aahh.. are you so good..? Ooh wow.. nngh.. haa.. feels s’good.. warm..”

You run your tongue along the underside of his cock, humming again just to get him to thrust that dick. It hurt so good. You had to get him to use it. You slowly pop off his dick and rub it with your hand.

“Want the truth? I couldn’t stop fantasizing about this… sucking you off till you cum down my throat.. sometimes you finger my pussy till im cumming. You like that izuku?”

Izuku gasps shakily, his eyes wide and cock twitchy in response, precum dribbling out at your confession. Of course he liked it. He thought the same, same thoughts. You pop him back in your mouth and go faster, hollowing out her cheeks as your head bobs.

“Haa!! W-Wait—! T-Too muh—!”

Izuku pleaded as he pulled at your hair, gasping and whining and moaning. His hips would jerk against your pump lips which leaks bubbles of spit and pre. You looked so fucking messy. He was close, so close. “I-Im..!! Please baby!!”

Izuku presses down your face, feeling your nose against his pubes as you shakes your head and moan around him. Your hand comes up to cup his balls, squeezing, massaging, teasing. Izuku couldn’t take it anymore. Poor dorm neighbors must hate him because he’s howling almost.

“I-Im cloosse… r-really..!! B-Baby please doont.. naaagh.. aahhh…”

Your tongue swirls around his tip, sucking hard on his head before going right back down to the very bottom, as you go up, your free hand rubs what isnt in your mouth. Your eyes roll back as starts to really fuck your throat, hips thrusting and shuddering. “Kknn.. good.. boooyy..” you choke out between his broken thrusts to your throat. His cock is twitching so much, such precum is in your throat, you feel like you could choke, but then izuku’s back arches, his head falling back as his legs tense around your head.

“c-cumming! c-cumming now!”

You close your eyes as you feel the jerky pulse of his cock in the back of your thoat, a flood of cum pouring down your throat as you whine. Gulping it all down, you watch izuku’s hands fall from your hair and hang limply at his sides. Slowly taking his softening cock from your mouth, you sigh with satisfaction, leaning in and licking away any leftovers — eliciting twitches from his thighs.

“Suuch a good boy izuku.. you tasted soo good”

You come out from under the table, looking at his face and seeing the drool rolling down his chin, his hazy fucked out eyes. You give him a sympathetic pout and lean down to kiss his lips, and he shakily returns it.

“That was good right izu? Not bad? You ask while combing your fingers through his hair. He shakes his head. “N-no it… was incredible.. you’re.. incredible.

You smile wide, kissing him deep and passionate. Your tongue running over his lips as he opens up, his own tongue meeting yours. He can taste himself on you and it makes him shiver. His arms slowly wrap around you, his face hiding in your neck as he take a deep breath.

“Do you um.. think we could do this again… sometime..?” He mumbles, nervous you will say no. But how could you? This was your dream!

“Of course we can. We can whenever you want to.”

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Katsuki: I'll stop when you stop looking so fucking good in those shorts you wear to sleep.

Your cheeks burned. You were wearing his old t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts — the ones he'd always loved because they showed off your ass.

You: How do you know what I'm wearing?

Katsuki: I have binoculars. And a great memory of how you look naked.

You should have blocked him. Changed your number. Moved to another country. Instead, you found yourself getting up and walking to the window, pulling the curtain aside slightly. He was there, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, phone in hand.

"Put your phone down," you said, your voice barely audible through the glass.

He grinned, holding up his hands in surrender before setting his phone on the windowsill. Then he tapped his ear, indicating he was calling you.

Your phone rang. This time, you answered.

"What do you want, Katsuki?"

"Want to hear your voice," he said, his voice deeper than you remembered, rougher. "Been too long."

"It's been three months," you reminded him. "That's not long enough."

"Three months too long," he countered. "Miss you."

"You don't miss me," you scoffed. "You miss having someone to come home to. Someone to warm your bed."

"I miss the way you laugh," he said, and the sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. "I miss how you hum when you cook. I miss waking up next to you and knowing that no matter how fucked up my day was, you were there waiting for me."

Your heart ached despite yourself. "That's not enough, Katsuki. It was never enough."

"I know," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I know I fucked up. But I'm trying. I'm really trying."

"Trying what? Stalking me from across the street?"

"Trying to figure out how to get you back," he said simply. "Without losing my mind in the process."

"There's nothing to get back," you said, though your resolve was weakening. "We're done."

"Are we?" he challenged. "Because from here, it looks like you're still wearing my shirt. Still sleeping in the bed I picked out. Still living in the apartment I found for you."

"You don't live here anymore," you reminded him. "You don't get to have a say."

"Then why are you still there?" he asked. "Why haven't you moved? Changed your number? Made it impossible for me to find you?"

You had no answer for that. Because the truth was, you hadn't wanted to make it impossible. A part of you had always left the door open, just a crack.

"I'm coming over," he said suddenly.

"No," you protested immediately. "Katsuki, no."

"Ten minutes," he said, ending the call before you could argue further.

You should have locked the door. Called security. Done something to prevent this inevitable disaster. Instead, you found yourself waiting, your heart pounding with anticipation and dread.

The knock came precisely ten minutes later. Soft, almost hesitant — not the Bakugou you remembered.

You opened the door to find him leaning against the frame, looking more exhausted than you'd ever seen him. He'd thrown on a black t-shirt before coming over, and there were dark circles under his eyes, his usual confident posture slumped with fatigue.

"You look like hell," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Been working double shifts," he replied, his eyes roaming over your body. "Trying not to think about you."

"Clearly failing," you noted, though you couldn't deny the thrill that ran through you at his obvious desire.

"Can I come in?" he asked, his voice softer than you expected. "Just to talk?"

You should have said no. You knew you should have said no. But instead, you stepped aside, allowing him into the apartment you'd once shared.

The air was thick with unspoken words as he moved past you, his shoulder brushing yours in the narrow hallway. You watched as he walked into the living room, his eyes taking in the changes you'd made — the new throw pillows, the rearranged furniture, the absence of his personal belongings.

"You painted," he noted, glancing around the room. "It's nice."

"Thanks," you replied, keeping your distance. "What do you want, Katsuki?"

"Want you," he said simply, turning to face you. "Always wanted you."

"That's not enough," you reminded him. "It wasn't enough before."

"I know," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "I know I was an asshole. I know I didn't appreciate you like I should have. I know I took you for granted."

"So what's different now?" you challenged. "What's changed?"

"I have," he said, taking a step closer. "Being without you… it's made me realize things. About myself. About what's important."

"And what's important?" you asked, though you already knew his answer.

"You," he said, closing the distance between you. "You're what's important."

His hands came up to cup your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. "I miss you," he murmured, his eyes searching yours. "I miss us."

"Katsuki…" you began, but he cut you off with a kiss.

It was desperate, hungry, all the things you remembered about being with him. His tongue explored your mouth with possessive intensity, his hands moving from your face to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space between you.

You should have pushed him away. Ended this before it went any further. But instead, you found yourself kissing him back, your hands tangling in his hair as you lost yourself in the familiarity of his touch.

"Bedroom," he growled against your lips, already steering you in that direction.

You let him lead you, your mind screaming warnings that your body chose to ignore. This was a mistake. A terrible, wonderful mistake that you'd regret in the morning.

But as he lowered you onto the bed, his body covering yours, you couldn't bring yourself to care. All that mattered was the here and now — the feel of his hands on your skin, the taste of his mouth, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress.

"I've missed this," he murmured, his lips trailing kisses along your jawline. "Missed you."

"Katsuki," you breathed, your hands roaming his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax under your touch.

"Tell me you want this too," he said, pulling back to look at you. "Tell me this isn't just me."

You looked up at him, at the raw vulnerability in his eyes, and made your decision. "I want this," you admitted. "God help me, I want this too."

That was all the encouragement he needed. His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one fluid motion. His mouth found your breast, his tongue circling your nipple before he took it into his mouth, sucking gently.

"Fuck," you moaned, your back arching off the bed. "Don't stop."

He didn't. His mouth continued its exploration of your body, his hands working to remove the rest of your clothes until you were completely naked beneath him. When his fingers found your clit, you cried out, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Always so responsive," he growled, his thumb circling your clit. "So fucking perfect."

You reached for him, your fingers hooking into the waistband of his sweatpants. "You're still wearing too much," you complained.

He chuckled, standing up to pull his shirt over his head and shove his sweatpants and boxers down in one motion. His cock sprang free, hard and ready for you. You licked your lips, anticipation building as he rejoined you on the bed.

"Condom?" he asked, though he already knew where to find one.

"Nightstand," you replied, watching as he retrieved one and rolled it on.

He positioned himself between your legs, his cock nudging at your entrance. "Last chance to back out," he said, though his eyes told you he was hoping you wouldn't.

"Fuck me, Katsuki," you replied, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Now."

He entered you slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size. The initial stretch was intense, a delicious burn that gave way to pleasure as he began to move. His thrusts were deliberate at first, then faster as his control began to slip.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his hips snapping against yours. "So fucking tight."

"Harder," you urged, your nails digging into his back. "I can take it."

That was all the encouragement he needed. His pace increased, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his release. The familiar rhythm of your bodies together was intoxicating, a drug you'd been detoxing from for three months and now overdosing on in seconds.

Pleasure coiled tight in your stomach, hot and demanding. Your breath hitched, a moan building in your throat, raw and unrestrained. No. You wouldn't give him that. You wouldn't let him hear how much you needed this, how desperately your body had craved his. You pressed your lips together, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, the sharp pain a welcome distraction from the overwhelming pleasure. You tasted blood, coppery and familiar.

He noticed immediately. His rhythm faltered for half a second, his crimson eyes narrowing as he watched you. "Don't you fucking do that," he growled, his voice a low rumble against your ear. He recovered in an instant, his hips still driving into you with punishing force.

"Shut up," you gasped, the words muffled by your own flesh.

"Let me hear you," he demanded, his hand leaving your hip to grip your jaw, his thumb pressing against your chin, trying to force your mouth open. "I want to hear what I'm doing to you."

You shook your head, stubbornly keeping your lip trapped between your teeth.

"Fine," he grunted, a frustrated sound. He shifted his weight, leaning down until his face was inches from yours. His bicep flexed beside your head as he braced himself. Then he pushed his shoulder against your mouth. "Then bite me instead."

It was an insane request. But everything about this was insane. You hesitated for a second, then sank your teeth into the hard muscle of his shoulder. His skin was hot against your tongue, and you bit down hard, pouring all your anger, all your frustration, all your goddamn longing into the act.

He hissed, a sharp intake of breath that was all pain and all pleasure. "Fuck, yes," he groaned, his hips stuttering for a moment before resuming their brutal pace. "That's it. Mark me."

The dam inside you broke. With his flesh in your teeth, you couldn't hold back the sounds anymore. A guttural moan tore from your throat, followed by another, and another. Each thrust punched a new sound out of you, a symphony of pleasure and hate.

"I hate you," you sobbed against his shoulder, the words muffled by his skin. You bit down again, harder this time. "God, Katsuki, I fucking hate you."

His rhythm didn't break. He just took it, his hips hammering into you, his hand gripping your ass so hard it would leave bruises. "I know," he panted, his voice ragged in your ear. He didn't flinch, didn't try to defend himself. He just accepted your declaration like it was the weather. "I know."

Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes, hot and humiliating. You hated him for this, for reducing you to this writhing, sobbing mess. You hated yourself for wanting it so much. "I hate you so much," you repeated, your voice cracking. "I hate what you did to me. I hate that I still want you."

"I know," he said again, his voice impossibly deep. He shifted slightly, changing the angle, and his cock hit that spot inside you that made your vision go white. "I know, baby. I know."

You came with a silent scream, your entire body convulsing, your teeth clamping down on his shoulder one last time as waves of pleasure so intense they were painful washed over you. Your nails raked down his back, leaving red welts in their wake.

He followed you over the edge a moment later with a guttural curse, his body going rigid as he emptied himself into the condom. His weight collapsed onto you, heavy and solid and suffocatingly familiar.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths and the distant hum of the city outside. You could feel his heart pounding against your ribs, a frantic rhythm that matched your own.

Finally, he pushed himself up, his arms trembling with the effort. He looked down at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the bite mark on your lip.

"You're bleeding," he said, his voice quiet.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smearing the blood across your skin. "So are you."

He glanced down at his shoulder, where the bite marks were already darkening, a faint spot of blood blooming against his skin. "Good," he said, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Means I'll remember this tomorrow."

You should have pushed him off. Told him to get out. But instead, you just lay there, your body spent and your heart aching. Because you knew, with a certainty that terrified you, that this wasn't the end. It was just the beginning of another round of the same old cycle — the fighting, the fucking, the inevitable heartbreak.

And as he leaned down to kiss you again, you let him. Because you were weak. Because you were addicted. Because, despite everything, you still wanted him. And that, you realized, was the most fucked up part of all.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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You kick off your shoes and shuffle down the hallway, already pulling your hair out of the bun you'd done up that morning, now mostly falling out on its own. The bedroom door is cracked open, and when you push it wider, you find exactly what you were hoping for.

Satoru is sprawled across the bed like a starfish, still wearing his teaching clothes—black pants and a rumpled button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His blindfold is tossed carelessly on the nightstand, and his white hair is an absolute disaster, sticking up in every direction like he's been running his hands through it all day. His eyes are closed, one arm thrown over his face.

He looks as exhausted as you feel.

"Rough day?" you ask, and he groans without moving.

"The first years tried to fight a curse three grades above their level because Yuji said it 'looked easy,'" he mumbles into his arm. "I had to bail them out. Again. Then Megumi and Nobara got into an argument about mission protocol that somehow turned into a full-blown screaming match about who ate whose leftovers from the fridge. I had to separate them like they were toddlers."

Despite your exhaustion, you snort. "Sounds about right."

"And then," he continues, finally moving his arm to peek at you with one brilliant blue eye, "Yaga cornered me about paperwork I was supposed to file last week. Do you know how much I hate paperwork?"

"I'm aware." You're already moving toward the bed, unbuttoning your work pants. "You complain about it literally every time."

"Because it's the worst. I'm the strongest sorcerer alive. I shouldn't have to file incident reports."

"Mm-hmm, very tragic." You shimmy out of your pants and leave them in a heap on the floor—a problem for future you. Your blouse follows, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. "My day was also shit, for the record."

"Yeah?" He's watching you now with lazy interest, too tired to even sit up but still tracking your movements.

"My boss is an idiot, the coffee machine broke, I had to sit through a two-hour meeting that could've been an email, and Janet from accounting passive-aggressively cc'd the entire department on an email about someone stealing her lunch. Which, for the record, I didn't do, but she definitely thinks I did based on the way she was glaring at me."

"Want me to hollow purple Janet from accounting?" he offers, completely serious.

"Tempting, but no." You crawl onto the bed and without ceremony, flop directly on top of him, your full weight pressing him into the mattress. You bury your face in his chest with a long, dramatic groan. "I'm dead. This is me, dead."

"Hi, dead. I'm also dead." His arms come around you automatically, wrapping you up even though you're both too tired to really move. "We're both corpses now. This is our life."

"Our death," you correct, muffled against his shirt.

"Our death," he agrees solemnly.

For a moment, you just lie there, breathing in sync. He smells like his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the training grounds—sweat and grass and something distinctly him. It's comforting in a way you can't quite articulate. This exhausted, collapsed-together moment feels like home.

His hand starts moving on your back, slow and gentle, rubbing up and down your spine. It feels incredible, and you make an embarrassing sound of contentment that you'll deny later.

"You're tense as hell," he murmurs, fingers working at a knot between your shoulder blades.

"You try dealing with Janet's accusatory emails and see how relaxed you are," you mumble, but you're already melting into his touch.

"I'd just block her."

"You can't block coworkers, Satoru."

"You can if you're powerful enough." His hand slides lower, still rubbing your back, and you feel some of the day's tension starting to ease. "This okay?"

"It's perfect. You're my favorite human pillow."

"Just human pillow? Not devastatingly handsome boyfriend who you're lucky to have?"

"That's implied," you say, but you're smiling against his chest.

His other hand joins the first, both of them working at your tired muscles, and you honest-to-god almost start purring. This is exactly what you needed. Just this—him, the quiet apartment, his hands on you, the weight of the day slowly lifting.

But then his hands start to wander.

It's subtle at first. His fingers drift from your back to your sides, tracing the curve of your waist. Then lower, skimming over your hips. And then—

He grabs your ass. Both hands, full handfuls, squeezing appreciatively.

"Really?" you ask, lifting your head to look at him. "We're both dead, remember? Corpses don't grope."

"I'm a very motivated corpse." He squeezes again, shameless, and there's a grin tugging at his lips now. "Can't help it. You're lying on top of me in your underwear. What did you expect?"

"Self-control? Restraint? Basic human decency?"

"Baby, you know me better than that." His hands are still kneading your ass, and despite your sass, you can feel heat starting to pool low in your belly. "Besides, you love it."

"I love that you can't even wait until we've recovered from our respective terrible days before getting handsy?"

"Exactly." He's fully grinning now, that cocky, insufferable grin that makes you want to kiss him and smack him at the same time. "Your ass is the best stress relief. It's science."

"That's not science, you idiot."

"It's my science."

You snort, but you're not moving away. His hands are warm and familiar, and honestly, after the day you've had, this isn't the worst thing in the world. You let your head drop back to his chest, eyes drifting closed.

"Comfortable?" he asks, voice softer now.

"Mmm," you hum in agreement. "Don't stop."

"Wasn't planning on it."

For a while, it's just quiet. His hands keep moving—sometimes squeezing, sometimes just resting there, thumbs drawing lazy circles. You can hear his heartbeat under your ear, steady and strong. The tension in your shoulders is almost completely gone now, replaced by a different kind of warmth, something slower and heavier.

You're half-asleep when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness pressing against your hip.

"Satoru," you mumble, not even opening your eyes.

"Hmm?"

"Are you seriously getting hard right now?"

There's a pause. Then he says, "...Maybe."

You lift your head to look at him, one eyebrow raised. He has the decency to look slightly sheepish, but there's heat in his eyes now, that familiar hunger that never really goes away when it comes to you.

"We were having a nice moment."

"We still are."

"You've got a boner."

"I do…That doesn't cancel the nice moment."

You stare at him for another second before letting out a laugh.

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"I come home exhausted, use you as a human mattress for ten minutes, and somehow I'm the problem?"

"You are absolutely the problem."

"I literally haven't done anything."

"You climbed on top of me, got all comfy, made that little happy humming noise, and then fell asleep on my chest."

"I hummed?"

"You hummed."

"I don't hum."

"You do when you're really comfortable."

You narrow your eyes. "I've never noticed that."

"I have."

You glare at him.

"…Baby." He exhales dramatically, like he's carrying the weight of the world. "You're makin' me so hard."

You snort. "You're unbelievable."

"I'm trying to be respectful."

"Are you?"

Silence.

"…No." He grins without an ounce of shame. "Not really."

Despite yourself, you laugh again, dropping your forehead back against his shoulder.

"You're ridiculous."

"I know."

His arms tighten around you just a little. "But you look so comfortable."

His voice is quieter now. "So happy."

You burrow your face further into his shoulder.

"…I like when you're like this."

You feel yourself smile before you can stop it. "You're such a sap."

"Only for you."

There's a comfortable silence. Then his hands drift just a little bit lower again.

"…Okay," you mumble. "Now you're definitely not being respectful."

"No." He gives your ass another shameless squeeze. "I'm definitely not."

Before you can respond, he's sitting up, keeping you in his lap, and capturing your mouth in a kiss that's hungry and demanding. You can taste his desperation, feel it in the way his hands grip you like he's afraid you're going to disappear.

When he pulls back, his lips are already swollen, his eyes are dark with want. "I need to taste you," he says, and it's not a request. "Get up here."

"Up where—"

But he's already moving, sliding down the bed and pulling you with him. "On my face. Come on."

"Satoru—"

"Please." And there it is, that needy edge that makes your stomach flip. "I've been thinking about this all day. About you sitting on my face, riding my tongue until you come. Please, baby. I need it."

How are you supposed to say no to that?

"You're ridiculous," you say, but you're already moving, letting him position you. He's lying flat on his back now, looking up at you with such raw want that it makes you shiver.

"Not ridiculous. Desperate." His hands come up to grip your thighs, pulling you forward. "Now stop stalling and sit on my face."

"Bossy," you mutter, but you're lowering yourself down, and then—

"Oh fuck," you gasp as his tongue makes contact, sliding through your folds in one long, deliberate stroke.

He groans under you, the vibration going straight to your core, and his hands tighten on your thighs. "That's it," he mumbles against you. "Right there. Don't move."

But you're already moving, you can't help it, grinding down against his mouth as he licks and sucks and devours you like a man starving. His grip on your thighs is almost bruising, holding you exactly where he wants you, and when you try to lift up, worried about suffocating him, about being too much—he just pulls you back down harder.

"Satoru—"

"Stay," he demands, voice muffled. He pulls his face back to look up at you. "Fuck my face. Come on, baby, I can take it. Give it to me." Then he lowers his mouth to you again.

It's obscene, the wet sounds of his mouth on you, the way he's completely lost in it. His tongue circles your clit, then dips inside you, then back to your clit, and you're already shaking, already so close.

"That's it," he encourages, and you can hear the smugness in his voice even now. "You're dripping, baby. such a mess on my face."

"Shut—up," you gasp, but there's no heat in it because he's right—you can feel how wet you are, can feel it on his chin, his lips, and it should be embarrassing but it's just hot.

"Make me," he challenges, and then he's sucking your clit into his mouth, hard, and you cry out.

Your hands fly to the headboard, gripping the edge to steady yourself as the pleasure intensifies. You start to really move now, riding his face with purpose, and he moans underneath you like this is exactly what he wanted all along.

"Fuck, yes," he groans against you, the vibration making you gasp. "Just like that. Use me, baby. Take what you need."

His hands guide your hips, encouraging the rhythm, and his tongue is relentless—circling, flicking, pressing flat against you in a way that makes your thighs shake. You can feel yourself getting closer, that coil of heat tightening in your belly.

"Satoru, I'm—fuck—"

"Do it," he demands, voice rough. "Come on my face.”

His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, and that's all it takes. Your orgasm crashes through you in waves, pleasure rolling through your entire body. You're grinding down against his mouth, riding it out, and he's groaning underneath you like this is the best thing that's ever happened to him.

When you finally come down, shaking and oversensitive, you try to move off him, but his hands tighten on your thighs.

"Not yet," he mumbles, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, your hip bones, anywhere he can reach. "Just—give me a second. You taste so fucking good."

"You're gonna kill me," you pant, but you're smiling.

But he's already diving back in, and you gasp as his tongue finds your clit again. Your whole body jolts at the sensitivity, but he doesn't let up—he's relentless, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady as he works you over. The pleasure is almost too much, bordering on overwhelming, and you're already moaning his name.

"Satoru—fuck—it's too much—"

"I know, baby," he groans against you, the vibration sending another wave through you. "But you can take it."

He's eating you out like he's starving, like he can't get enough, and your whole body is shaking. Your hands grip the headboard tighter, your hips moving against his mouth almost involuntarily. The pleasure is building again, impossibly fast, and you're gasping and moaning as he works you toward another orgasm.

"Oh god—Satoru—I'm gonna—"

"That's it," he encourages, his tongue flicking faster. 

Your second orgasm hits you like a wave, even more intense than the first, and you're crying out as pleasure crashes through you. Your thighs are shaking so hard you can barely hold yourself up, and he's groaning underneath you, clearly getting off on how much he's affecting you.

When you finally collapse, completely spent and oversensitive, he finally releases you, and you fall onto the bed next to him, breathing hard and trembling.

"And I'm dramatic?" He's grinning like he just won the lottery, his face wet, his hair a complete disaster. "That was—fuck. I love you, baby."

"You're insane," you say, but you're pulling him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

"About you? Absolutely." His hands are already roaming again, cupping your face, then sliding down your sides. "But I'm not done with you yet."

"Oh really?"

"Really." He's kissing you again, slower this time, deeper. When he pulls back, there's something vulnerable in his expression beneath all the confidence. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Then show me," you challenge, and his eyes darken.

"Oh, baby."

He's fumbling with his pants, shoving them down along with his boxers, and his cock springs free—flushed and hard and already leaking. You reach for him, wrapping your hand around his length, and he hisses.

"Fuck, baby—"

"What?" You stroke him slowly, base to tip, and he's already trembling.

"Your hands—shit—they're so much smaller than mine. Look so good wrapped around my cock."

"Yeah?" you tease, giving him another slow stroke.

"Yeah." His voice is strained. 

He gently removes your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm, and then he's pulling you against him. His arms wrap around you, one hand sliding up your back, the other gripping your hip possessively. You can feel him, hard and hot against your thigh, and he's just... holding you there.

"Satoru—"

"Give me a second," he murmurs, his voice already rough. His breathing is uneven against your neck, and you can feel the tension in his body—the way he's trying to maintain control. "Just—fuck—you feel so good.”

His hips shift slightly, and you feel the length of him drag against you—not entering, just the pressure of him sliding through your wetness. The friction makes you gasp, and he groans.

"There it is," he breathes. "That sound. The little gasp you make when I—" He does it again, a slow roll of his hips, grinding against you. "When I touch you just right."

"Satoru, please—"

"Please what?" His hand slides down to grip your ass, pulling you tighter against him. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"You know what I want."

"I do." Another slow grind, and you can feel how wet you are, how easily he slides against you. "But I wanna hear you say it. Love the way your voice gets all breathy when you're desperate for me."

"You're killing me—"

"Good." He's kissing your neck now, teeth grazing your pulse point. "You've been killing me all day. All week. Every time you look at me with those eyes, every time you smile at me like I'm the only person in the world—fuck, baby, you have no idea."

His voice is shaking now, and you realize he's not teasing anymore—he's barely holding on. The head of his cock catches at your entrance, and you both freeze.

"I can't—" His forehead drops to your shoulder. "I can't think straight around you. Can't control myself. You just—you exist, and I'm gone."

"Then stop trying to control it," you whisper, and you feel him shudder.

"Fuck." He shifts, lining himself up properly, and then he's pushing in—slowly, so slowly. The stretch is intense, pleasure edged with the sweetest hint of pressure as he fills you inch by inch. "Fuck, baby. You feel so good. So tight. So perfect."

"Satoru—"

"I know. I've got you." He's only halfway in, taking his time, letting you adjust. His forehead is still pressed to your shoulder, and you can feel how much restraint this is taking him—the way his muscles are tense, the way his breath comes in short gasps. "You're taking me so well. You always take me so well."

Finally, finally, he's fully seated inside you, and you both just breathe for a moment, adjusting to the feeling of being completely connected.

"Okay?" he asks, lifting his head to look at you.

"Yes baby," you manage. "You can move.”

"Thank fuck." He pulls out slowly, almost all the way, and then thrusts back in. The drag of his cock against your walls makes you gasp, and he groans. "That sound. Fuck, I love that sound."

He sets a steady rhythm, deep and deliberate, each thrust making you feel impossibly full. His hands are everywhere—cupping your face, tangling in your hair, gripping your hips—like he can't decide where he wants to touch you most.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, watching your face. "All flushed and breathless. The way your eyes get all hazy when I'm inside you—fuck, it drives me crazy."

"Satoru—"

"I love you so much." His voice is rough with emotion now, not just desire. "Love everything about you. The way you feel, the way you look at me, the way you let me have you like this—"

"I love you too," you gasp, and his hips stutter.

His eyes squeeze shut for a moment, and when he opens them again, there's something raw there.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

"Fuck." His pace falters, becomes less controlled. "You can't—you can't just say it like that when I'm inside you. You're gonna—shit—"

"You feel so good," you tell him, cupping his face. "So perfect. You always make me feel so good."

His breath catches, and suddenly he's kissing you desperately, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, less measured.

"You're everything," he gasps against your mouth. "Everything to me. The way you trust me, the way you look at me like I'm—fuck, baby, I can't—"

"You are," you insist, and his composure cracks completely.

"Fuck—" He's moving faster now, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. "Love how you fit around me. Like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other."

"We were," you gasp, and his eyes flash with something fierce and possessive.

"Damn right we were." He shifts slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly every thrust is devastating. "There it is. That's the spot, isn't it?"

"Yes—fuck—right there—"

"I know, baby. I know." His voice is breaking now, emotion and desire tangled together. "Gonna make you come again. Wanna watch your face when you—fuck—when you come because of me."

The pleasure is building so quickly you can barely breathe. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, his back, trying to anchor yourself as he drives into you again and again.

"That's it," he encourages, watching your face like he's memorizing it. "I can feel you getting tighter. You're close, aren't you? So fucking close."

"Don't stop—"

"Never." One of his hands slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel it. Let me see you."

The combination of his cock hitting that perfect spot and his thumb on your clit is too much. Your orgasm hits you hard, pleasure crashing through you in waves that make your whole body tense and shake. You're clenching around him, and he groans at the sensation.

"Fuck, yes," he breathes, still moving, fucking you through it. "That's it. That's my girl. You're so good. So beautiful. Fuck, I love you so much."

When you finally start to come down, gasping and trembling, you expect him to follow you over the edge. But instead, he slows his movements, pressing soft kisses to your face.

"Satoru—"

"Not done with you yet," he murmurs against your lips.

Before you can respond, he's pulling out and lifting your legs, draping them over his shoulders. The new position opens you up completely, and when he pushes back in, he's somehow even deeper than before.

"Oh fuck—" you gasp, and he groans.

"There we go." He starts moving again, and this angle is devastating. Every thrust feels impossibly deep, hitting places that make your toes curl. "How's that, baby? That good?"

"Yes—fuck—Satoru—"

"I love you so much," he says, his voice rough. "You know that? I'm never letting you go. You're mine. Always gonna be mine."

"Yours," you agree breathlessly, and something in his expression goes even more intense.

"That's right." His thrusts are harder now, more purposeful. "Gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna love you for the rest of my life."

His hand moves to your stomach, pressing down, and suddenly his eyes go wide. He can feel himself inside you, the bulge of his cock with each thrust, and something feral takes over his expression.

"Holy shit," he breathes, completely mesmerized. His hand traces the outline, feeling himself move in and out of you, and he starts fucking you even harder, unable to look away. "Look at that. Look at you taking me so deep."

You're already building toward another orgasm, the intensity of this angle and his words and the way he's looking at you like you're the most incredible thing he's ever seen—it's all too much.

He's transfixed, watching his cock disappear inside you again and again, feeling the movement under his palm. His breathing is ragged, his movements becoming more frantic.

"Can you feel that, baby?" he asks breathlessly, his voice completely wrecked. "Fuck—I'm so fucking deep—you feel that?"

You look up at him with half-shut glazed eyes, your mouth parted open, completely fucked out. "Yes—fuck—yes, Satoru, I feel it—"

He groans at the sight of you—at how thoroughly wrecked you look, at the way you're falling apart beneath him. "You're so hot. So fucking hot. The way you look right now—fuck—I'm obsessed with you."

He's fucking you harder now, more urgently, his hand still on your stomach feeling himself move inside you with each thrust. The visual seems to drive him wild, and his movements become almost desperate.

"Come for me again," he demands, his other hand finding your oversensitive clit. "I know you can. I know you've got one more in you. Come on, baby. Give it to me."

"Satoru—I can't—it's too much—"

"You can." His thumb presses harder, circling your clit. "You can, baby. I need you to.”

The pleasure is building impossibly fast, almost painful in its intensity. You're so sensitive from your first two orgasms that every thrust, every touch feels magnified.

"That's it," he encourages, watching your face. "I can see it. You're right there. Just let go, baby.”

His voice is breaking, his control completely shattered, and then something raw escapes from him. 

"I want you—" His hips snap forward harder. "Fuck—want all of you.”

His composure finally snaps.

"They've been on my ass my whole life about the bloodline. About heirs. About duty." Another hard thrust, his voice is cracking. "And I never—fuck—never wanted it."

He's breathing hard, almost gasping between words.

"Not until you."

His forehead drops closer to yours, his movements becoming more frantic.

"Only you. Want to marry you—want to wake up to you every day—want to call you my wife and—ah—know you're mine—"

Your orgasm crashes through you even harder, triggered by his words, by the desperation in his voice, by the sight of him completely undone above you. You're clenching around him so tight he gasps, your whole body shaking with the intensity.

"Fuck, yes—" He's just… staring at you, still moving, still feeling himself inside you. "So beautiful—The way your face—the way you sound—fuck—"

The sight of you completely wrecked under him, the feeling of you clenching around him, the way you gasp his name—it pushes him over the edge.

"Ah—fuck—fuck—fuuckk—" He buries himself as deep as he can go and comes hard, spilling into you in hot pulses. His whole body shudders with the intensity of it, and you can feel him throbbing inside you, can feel the warmth spreading.

He collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you but clearly boneless. For a while, you just breathe together, sweaty and satisfied.

"Holy shit," you mumble.

"Yeah." He's pressing kisses all over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips. He can’t seem to stop touching you, his hands running over your skin like he needs the contact. "You're amazing. Incredible. Best girlfriend in the entire world."

"Best girlfriend, or best pussy?" you tease, and he pulls back to look at you with mock offense.

"Both. Definitely both." He's grinning now, that soft, genuine smile that he only gives you. "But mostly you. I love you. Like, so much. An embarrassing amount."

"I love you too, you needy disaster."

"Your needy disaster," he corrects, and he's still touching you, hands running over your skin like he can't bear to stop. "Mine now. No takebacks."

"Wouldn't dream of it," you say softly, and you mean it.

He pulls you closer, tucking you against his chest, and you can hear his heartbeat starting to slow. The exhaustion from earlier is creeping back in, but it's different now—satisfied, content, the good kind of tired.

"We should probably shower," you murmur, but you're already half-asleep.

"Later," he mumbles into your hair. "Right now I just wanna hold you."

"Clingy."

"Yep." He doesn't even sound ashamed. "You're stuck with me. Forever. Hope you're ready for that."

"I think I can manage," you say, smiling against his chest.

it'd been a stressful day. your body wound tight as you made your way home, wanting to just find izuku and cuddle all night, watching whatever show seemed the easiest to digest.

but he always knew what you needed more than you did, which is why his head was between your thighs not even five minutes into the episode.

he'd loosened you up with just his tongue first, eager and greedy as always to make you come on his mouth before giving you what you want. you don't remember how long ago that was.

the noise that was caught in your throat is punched out of you like a groan, broken and whiny, when he speeds up just a little, bullying his cock deeper into your pussy.

he knows he's got you when you squirm below him, nonsensical mutters pressed into your arm as you curl tighter around your body. pleased with himself, he laughs, feeling how the sound gets to you when your walls squeeze, possessive around his length. "right there, yeah?"

he doesn't wait for a response or confirmation as his hips snap, rough and hard, watching how your ass bounces against his pelvis. "so good," he mumbles, distracted. you can feel how drenched you are, a combination of your own arousal and his spit making it almost slippery as he slides into your walls.

if he weren't being so good to you, you'd think him mean when he lifts you higher, leaning away from your back and opening your legs a little further to keep his pace. his balls slap messily against your clit any time he bottoms out. he's relentless, hands finding their grip on the fat of your thighs to keep you in place.

"izuku," you drawl, his name a squeak when the sound of your voice, fucked out and whiny, has his pace stuttering. his own groan is muffled into your spine, lips searing against your skin. "i got you," he mutters, almost giddy, as his fingers move, quick and sloppy against your clit.

izuku has always been selfless when it comes to you. he's eager to do good for you, in a way, always without complain, without you having to ask for it. it's no different when it's about your pleasure, giving and giving until you can barely take it, circling back to being selfish. he can't help it.

he's there to hold you when you come, walls clamping around his length. your voice is a continuous whine as he drags it out, fucking you through the sputters of your pussy, finding delight in the wet smack of his hips against yours.

he only stops once you're reaching back to slap his thighs, having the audacity to giggle as he taps the head of your cock on your quivering clit. "so pretty, baby," he mumbles, delirious, using his hands to turn you around.

your back barely makes contact with the couch before he's stuffing you full again, holding the backs of your knees to keep you from closing. the noise he lets out is guttural, and you're reminded of your selfish lover when he kisses his way up your neck, pecking sweetly at your lips.