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"i don't–"

"did you miscount?" his head pops around the door. he scans the empty packet in your hands and gives you a sympathetic look.

"i guess... maybe i looked at the wrong date on the calendar... fuck, that's so annoying!" you make a face and flick the empty pack into the trash.

he swallows. when you peer up at him, you find that he's avoiding your eyes, hands clasped in front of him like he's trying to keep them from fidgeting. "i mean..."

"what?"

"it's not the worst thing," he murmurs. he does glance up at you now, narrowing his eyes slightly like he's trying to stop himself from smiling. "i-i mean, it could be worse, right?"

"izuku."

"i'm not... i'm just saying! your appointment could be in a couple weeks, or next month, right?" he takes a step into the bathroom and unclasps his hands, wiggling his fingers unconsciously like he wants to reach for you. instead he drops his arms.

"izuku." your tone is chiding, but it doesn't carry much weight. you raise an eyebrow at him and press your lips into a thin line to stop the smirk that's itching to form.

he takes another step forward. he really needs to wipe that look off his face; it makes him look like a kid in a grocery store about to beg his mom for a treat he knows he shouldn't have. makes him look greedy.

"yes my love?" he's starting to crowd your space a little bit, big wide eyes shining with something like hunger. one of his hands twitches, and he finally gives in and slides it on your hip, squeezing just a little.

your shorts are thin. why are your shorts so thin, are they always this thin? his touch tickles and you shiver.

you can't look at him, can't make eye contact because you know exactly what will happen (it involves a lot less clothes... which is what always happens when he looks at you like this) and you can't risk it – so you say just that.

he huffs a little breath through his nose, almost in amusement, and rubs a circle into the junction between hip and waist with his thumb. it's a nice soothing pressure.

"alright, baby."

there's no commentary – suspiciously no commentary. he plants a kiss on the top of your head, gives your hip another squeeze; when you finally sneak a glance up at him he gives you a sweetheart smile, the one that softens his whole face. he couldn't fake that smile if he tried; it's not withholding, just earnest. "whatever you want, okay?"

you nod and give him a kiss, rubbing at his chest. he smells good, post-work out and pre-shower, all sweaty and musky, and his lips are so soft, you find yourself hanging on to the soft and pliant fabric of his t-shirt. he's so warm too. his other hand finds your waist and he pulls you forward, deepening the kiss with a little sigh into your mouth, and you can't help but lean into him. when your nails scratch against his skin through his shirt (just a little!), he inhales sharp and through his nose, chest rising beneath your fingers. then he groans into your mouth, sliding his hand slightly higher up your torso until it rests right against your abdomen.

god, you feel hot. is it hot in here? it's like heat is radiating off of izuku in waves, warming your cheeks and making your heart beat faster. kissing him feels so good, makes you feel all gooey and needy and–

shit. nope!

nope nope nope.

releasing his shirt, you flatten your palm and push, breaking the kiss. "you're playing dirty," you mutter with a scowl. he just smiles and kisses you again, no funny business this time.

"you're the one who kissed me first, baby."

"ugh!" you slap his chest and step around him to get to the hallway. "i have to get dressed or i'm gonna be late for work!"

what you miss are his eyes glueing themselves to your hips the second you pass by. he cranes his neck to watch you walk away, leaning against the doorframe to track your form until it slips into the bedroom and out of sight.

shit.

it could be said that izuku is a man with incredible self control. he's been through hell and back, and he stayed true and genuine the entire time; he only had a year to prepare himself for one for all, and he did it; he follows his self-made schedule more rigorously than anyone you've ever seen; one time he explained to you how he organizes his hero notes, and it was so thorough and so detailed, you knew you could never commit to such a system, but izuku does; he's disciplined like that.

it could also be said that izuku is a man with very, very little self control. especially when it comes to you.

he finds himself on edge for the rest of the day.

your little messages don't help. they aren't even anything crazy, which makes it worse.

around lunchtime, you text:

thinkin abt u baby!

he sets his chopsticks down and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing them like it will somehow release the tension he's felt churning in his gut ever since he saw that empty pill packet in your hands.

he doesn't think he's gonna make it until your appointment. the only thing he's thought about all day is how pretty you always look when he's got a hand pressed to your abdomen, hips flush with yours as the the tip of his cock stays nestled right up to your cervix and keeps you plugged nice and full; how pretty you sound when you beg for it: please, izuku, i–ngh–i need it...

damn it! he has to cut off this line of thinking before he spirals. adjusting his pants to account for the semi he's sporting (seriously?), he flips his phone over and picks up his chopsticks.

then he sighs. he sets them down again, picks up the phone, and sends a response:

i've been missing you all day

his thumbs hover over the keyboard before he types:

seriously, all day

then he really turns the phone around, switching it to silent for good measure. unfortunately, this measure is useless, since it doesn't stop him from checking it every five minutes. he's never taken so long to eat a meal in his life, but he keeps getting distracted: setting his chopsticks down and sighing, staring morosely at the food in his bento.

he'd feel better if he knew what you were doing, how you were feeling, what your day has been like. he misses you.

you miss him too. you can't remember the last time a day at work felt so long. all morning, time has dragged on and on, but the clock never seems to change all that much. it doesn't help that you're glancing at it every few minutes, and it certainly doesn't help that you decid to wait until lunch to text izuku. hasn't it been 10 for like an hour already? surely more time than that has passed, right?

he's been taking up space in your mind ever since this morning. that heat you felt emanating from him never left, lingering in the pads of your fingers where they touched his chest and traveling through your bloodstream, veins and arteries carrying it to everywhere else; he may as well have transferred it to you. now he swims in your consciousness, floating through your thoughts as though you're dreaming. it's impossible to focus.

impossible to focus on work, that is. it seems since you saw that empty birth control packet in your hands, there's been only one thing on your mind.

izuku always fucks you properly. you're never left needy or wanting. he takes good care of you, and right now, it's all you can think about. you want him to bully that fat cock inside without any barriers between you, wanna feel him with no limits... just you and him, raw. you and him, as close as you can possibly be... he always makes you feel so good, always keeps you so full and–

ooooookay!

that's enough of that. there's still another hour until lunch time, and if you're getting this distracted already you're never gonna make it.

when it comes to each other, you and izuku are both experts in the art of communicating through what goes unsaid. throughout the day, you send little texts back and forth, and there's nothing overtly sexual in any most of them, but by the time you're catching your train home your panties are drenched and it’s all his fault.

he knew exactly what he was doing when he sent you that post-workout selfie in the late afternoon... the one he conveniently "forgot" to send this morning… yeah, right. more like he saved it to use against you later. it was only fair when you retaliated with a picture hastily taken in the bathroom of your work, shirt tugged down enough that your bra peaked generously over your top's neckline... if he's gonna fight dirty, then so are you!

when you get home, right away, he's hovering; taking your coat, offering you a drink (of your choice!). after you change he's guiding you to the couch and pressing you gently on to it. he slips a pair of socks on to your feet and rubs your shins, pausing before glancing up at you. "you were on my mind all day today."

what a deliberately nonchalant tone he's adopted! it seems he's deciding to play it cool, something he's never been very good at. you run a hand through his hair and then rest it on the side of his face – he immediately leans in to your touch, eyes fluttering closed when your nails scratch at his scalp.

he's so easy.

"yeah?"

"yeah! i, uh, i was thinking about what we talked about this morning..."

your lips twitch into a smile. he's so easy you can't resist messing with him a little. "which thing?"

"oh, the... um, the birth control thing... and i was thinking..."

"oh! that reminds me–" you spring up from your seated position and he starts, falling back until he lands ass first on the floor. he stays there, defeated, as you scurry to your bag and pull out a small box.

he eyes it carefully. "what have you got there?"

"condoms," you explain, pressing the cardboard between your fingers and sliding a foil from the package. it crinkles between your fingers, shiny surface catching the lamplight. "y'know... in case... well, i mean, i figure we'll need them."

now how to respond? does he press the issue now or later? he can tell, with the way your lips tremble – you're bluffing. have to be.

how cute! did you go all the way to the store to buy – what is that, a 3-pack? – it is! a box of three condoms that he's unsure would fit anyway, all to pretend like later you aren't going cum on his very much unwrapped cock. as if three condoms would be enough to last the four days between now and your appointment anyway. they must have been the cheapest option. he loves it when you commit to a bit.

sure, the two of you used condoms plenty of times back when you first started sleeping together. it's just that the first time you had sex without a condom... game changing, and you've never looked back.

"that's very... thoughtful. wow, thank you baby! nice work, thinking ahead like that."

you purse your lips. "...yeah, you're welcome."

you had gone to the store, a 7/11 that was about five minutes away. it had been an afterthought on your walk home from work. you really thought he would protest more when he saw them, or even laugh–maybe you're misreading things? is he being annoying on purpose or just being sweet and now you're the crazy one playing mental games?

except you know how izuku feels about raw sex (with you, specifically). and you know that on the inside he has to be nearing his limit. you saw the look on his face this morning, you know what he's thinking about. it's like he just expects you to roll over, to give up and ask him for it. where's the effort? you'd love to see him beg a little.

you saunter back into the living room and haphazardly toss the condom on to the table, then turn towards the kitchen.

"i'm gonna get started on dinner. if you don't have work to finish you can get rice going."

izuku nods and mutters something that's supposed to sound like acknowledgment, but sounds more like a grunt instead.

as you walk away, he stares at your ass from his spot on the floor. he can't help himself. all that purported self control, erased the second you enter his field of vision.

he loves you, more than life itself; loves your mind and your sense of humor, loves the way you talk to yourself when you think no one's looking and the sound of your voice. when you direct that pretty voice in his direction it makes him feel like a truly lucky man, not everyone is so blessed! with all the things you could say and all the people you could say them to, you choose to spend your time talking to him – and gosh, does he love you for it.

but... honestly? he didn't hear a thing you just said. were you even talking just now? he's pretty sure he saw your lips moving...

it's like he's in a trance; all he can hear is blood rushing in his ears and the sound of his heart trying to claw it's way out of his chest and lay down at your feet. step on it, who cares? he'd die for you. do whatever you want. the way you look right now, he's pretty convinced you're some kind of deity, and he just wants the chance to worship at your altar.

"wait–" he gets up and stumbles after you, fingers itching to touch. in the kitchen, he finds you washing your hands at the sink, back turned. he wastes no time, sidling up behind you and grabbing your hips, leaning in to press his nose to the back of your neck and taking a deep breath.

"baby." now he's turning you around slowly, laughing when you glare at him.

"i'm a little busy, don't know if you noticed–"

he reaches behind you and turns off the sink, using his hips to press you against the counter.

that same smoldering heat erupts at the point your hips make contact and your mouth actually falls open at the sensation. every touch with izuku always seems to be laced with electricity, and now it's arcing between your bodies, building and expanding – when they say sparks flying, this is what they're talking about.

between his two large hands, he holds your cheeks with great care. his thumb brushes over your lips, catching on the bottom one and dragging it down until it bounces back into place.

whenever he captures one hundred percent of your attention, he isn't playing fair. he has this incredible ability to turn a mundane moment into an unforgettable one, and he wields it in moments just like this. maybe it's the attention he gives you and it's undivided nature, maybe it's the way he touches you like he never wants you to forget the way it feels, but one moment you're washing your hands and the next you're tunnel visioned and starry eyed, forgetting where you are or what you're doing as he stares at you like you invented the sun. yeah, it makes your heart melt and your brain short circuit, how could it not?

works like a charm, every single time.

"m'sorry, baby," he murmurs. "i didn't get to kiss you hello."

"no"–you gulp–"you didn't."

he doesn't make either of you wait for it anymore. his lips press against yours, firm and soft and familiar. when they part open you follow suit, an open invitation which he's happy to take. he groans, so satisfied at the way you taste he has to vocalize it. how could he not, when he's been craving about that flavor all day?

now you're tugging on his hair and panting into his mouth and grinding against his thigh that he doesn't even remember slipping between your legs, he just did it without thinking because it felt like the right thing to do and here you are rubbing all over it and he'll be damned because you're somehow wearing those tiny little shorts again. so thin. why do they even make shorts that thin? when did you have time to change and how come he didn't notice? are you trying to kill him?

he pulls away and one hand tugs at your waistband impatiently. "come on," he complains. "these don't even count as clothes. you're fighting so much dirtier than i am!"

"they're pajamas," you emphasize, like that exonerates you. "and you're the one who sent a gym picture when you weren't even at the gym–"

"–because you sent me that text about ovulating–"

"–that's–not–that's unrelated!"

"nuh-uh!"

he abruptly tosses you over his shoulder, ignoring your squeal, and marches back into the living room, dropping you somewhat unceremoniously on the couch before climbing over you. his thigh finds it's way back between your legs.

"izuku!" you gasp. every time he manhandles you like that, it leaves you a little breathless. it's a jarring reminder that he can do whatever he wants with you.

"you... your–this–this little back and forth has been so cute," he says. this psychological foreplay has been fun but if he doesn't get a visual on your pussy in the next five minutes he's worried he might explode. "and, gosh, you're so cute, cutest in the world, but honey"–the look he gives you is exasperated, like he knows he signed up for this but he's still regretting it a little bit–"i'm sorry, i can't do it anymore."

both of his hands rest on your hips, fingers curled around the elastic of your shorts. "these can come off or stay on, it doesn't matter to me."

does this mean you win? you technically held out the longest, not that you'd really call it holding out... self control when it comes to izuku is not an area you excel in. something you both have in common.

it doesn't matter. you've both won, now it's time for your reward.

"take them off," you say, voice cracking at the end. it's not something you have to ask for twice.

he yanks the shorts down your legs, shaking his head the whole time. then it's time for your underwear, and he's gentler, but equally as impatient.

need is finally starting to catch up to you, and you feel almost drunk with izuku looming over you like this. he feels too far away. you want him to stretch you out on his cock so badly it feels like you're going to pass out, but he slides two fingers between your folds instead.

"gosh, you're so... already this wet? thinkin' about it all day, huh?" he slips one finger inside and you moan.

"don't... you don't... just, i wanna feel you right now," you urge.

he slips in another finger, curling and pumping them in the way he knows you like. his movements are intentional, calculated and efficient. they're not dragged out, he can't handle that right now. fingering you to make sure you're aroused enough to take him is really a formality in this moment – it's obvious with the way you're dripping down his hand and on to his wrist that you're ready to go.

"what do you wanna feel?" he presses, using his other hand to pull his shirt over his head and fumble with his belt. you don't waste any time, pulling the rest of your own clothes off.

he pulls his fingers out of you and jerks them down his length a few times, spreading the ample pre-cum that leaks from his tip to lubricate himself before lining himself up.

"i wanna feel"–you shudder when his tip presses past your entrance–"f-fuck–wanna feel your cock filling me up. just-just your cock, nothing"–he bottoms out and you yelp–"nothing else."

he shifts his weight until he's right on top of you, holding himself up with his knees. he lowers his lips to your ear.

"but what about protection?" he purrs.

you don't need it with izuku. there's nothing to protect you against. anything he has to give you is something you'll accept.

you gasp. "i don't... want it!"

"i don't know, sounds pretty risky..." he taunts, torturing you with a slow roll of his hips. it doesn't matter if he was the one to give in first, izuku always makes you beg for it eventually.

clenching around him, you whine "come on...!", locking your legs around his hips. one of your hands finds his shoulders and clings to them.

fine. enough of this. if he gave in so can you.

"izuku," you say thickly. "i want you to cum inside. please, i'm-i'm asking you to."

"but what if something happens?"

"let it," you beg, legs squeezing tighter. you can't take much more of this, need him to move like your life depends on it. "cum inside, and whatever happens, happens, i don't ca–no, i want it, alright? c'mon, please."

he grins, wickedly. let's out a little breath and starts to thrust into you. "want me to make you mine, forever?"

he strikes a deep, slow pace, like he wants you to really feel it. like he wants each rut of his hips to steal the breath from your lungs.

so far, it's working.

"oh-oh... my god... i feel you so deep." each time he presses into you, it sends a numbing sensation rolling down your entire body, washing over you in a muted wave. there's something intoxicating about the combination of the momentary ache you feel each time his tip kisses your cervix and the mind numbing pleasure it precipitates. it's like an unspoken reminder that there's nothing between the two of you right now.

his hand slides against your lower abdomen and presses. the gesture makes you gasp, has your eyes fluttering at the added pressure and how it makes you feel that much more full. his green eyes are completely wild; he looks unhinged. every signal he sends radiates his claim.

he presses a little harder, then pulls all the way out for a moment. the feeling of emptiness lingers for long enough that it settles in your chest like anxiety.

"izuku!"

you want to scream at him for teasing you right now, your aching need starting to override your rationality. you whine, and he coos, "you want it?"

"yes!"

still, it just makes it all the sweeter when he slowly sinks back inside. his hand is so big and warm where it rests right against your womb – it heightens your arousal to the point that his sliding in just an inch has your back arching completely, your hips involuntarily trying to shimmy down further on his length. he sinks to the base and holds it for just a second, stretching you all the way and relishing in the extended moan that's tugged from your throat.

his thumb rubs a leisurely path over your skin. "you feel me... here?" and he presses again.

"yes, feel you in my stomach," you pant. he's rutting in to you with a steady, breaking pace, like a man on a mission.

"gonna put a baby here," he whispers, like a secret meant for your ears only. "gonna claim my pretty girl"–you clench around him and he gasps–"s-shit, you like that? like it when i talk about breeding you so everybody knows who you belong to?"

every single word that passes his lips sends you further into what feels like hysteria.

"wan' you to fill me up, please... you know i'm all yours izuku, you know."

you're not even really thinking straight at this point. your cunt feels like molten lava, burning you up from the inside out, and izuku keeps turning up the heat. he relishes in the way you clamp down on his dick, pussy walls constricting so intensely he actually grits his teeth.

you want it so bad. wanting might not be strong enough of a word... you crave it. you yearn for it. you need it.

"look at you." he's certainly looking at you now, with an intensity behind his gaze that hasn't diminished. it only seems to get stronger when he grinds into you nice and slow.

the heaviness of it all makes you keen. you keep mumbling "baby, please" and "you know" over and over, too fucked out to muster up full sentences. izuku acts as your own weighted blanket, draped over you and numbing out all of your senses. he kisses you with an open mouth and swallows the sound of your whimpering. he thinks it's a nice flavor on you.

"gosh, you sound so pretty when you beg," he breathes against your lips. "go on baby, beg some more. what do you want?"

are you going to pass out? no, maybe not... it's just that the edges of your vision have started to blur. the blinding pleasure is almost starting to err on the side of pain, nerves set so alight that your brain can't keep up. still, his dick is so deep that you can't possibly think of anything else with much conviction.

he hits each thrust with precision and purpose, molding your pussy to take him and him alone. if his weight wasn't on you so heavily, you'd be pushed up with every rut of his hips.

"you–i need–your cum, oh my god"–this might be it for you, each word cut off by the sound of skin clapping against skin–"fill me up all the way"–imploringly–"f-fuck, baby, make sure it sticks."

you have the thought that you might really be ruined for anyone else, not that it matters. it doesn't feel possible that anyone else could ever make you feel this good... more than just good, izuku makes you feel like the only person that's ever existed, like the most desirable and beautiful thing he's ever seen. each time he grinds his hips against yours, he's reminding you:

i choose you. i want you. i own you. you're mine you're mine you're mine.

"it will," he grunts, "it has to, the way you're sucking me in." lowering his face to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, he sucks a mark into the delicate skin. you have this feeling of being completely anchored, held down and fucked full of love. "wh–hah–whatever it takes."

it's full skin to skin. sweat pools between your bodies and it just adds to the intensity of it all. you feel him deep inside, you feel him on top of you, you feel him everywhere.

this feeling is why they call it making love. in this moment, that's exactly what you're doing: each of pouring all of your trust and devotion and commitment into the other, giving into that primal instinct that seeks out this sacred shared intimacy.

tears prick at your lash line and your next gasp is a little strangled on the way out.

"izuku."

something in your tone has him lifting his head so he can look in your eyes. some of his curls are sticking to his sweaty forehead, and the rest tickle the side of your face as he peers down at you.

the tears don't make him stop, but he does lace one of his hands with yours, squeezing lightly to reassure you. it's just what you need.

"honey, are you still with me?"

honey. baby. sweet girl. his tenderness is always so appreciated, but now it has you reeling with emotion. everything feels so intimate and you feel so vulnerable and fragile and taken and claimed that it sends a few tears spilling over and onto your cheeks. your eyes can’t focus on anything, so you close them.

that's izuku for you: fucking you dirty on his cock, all the while holding your hand and calling you honey.

"hey, sweet girl. will you give me a signal?" izuku's voice pulls you back to yourself, back to him. you can’t see it but he looks at you in earnest now, taking even more careful notice of your reactions and expressions.

you realize you need to say something or else he might stop and that's the last thing in the world you want right now. with tremendous effort, you open your eyes again and force yourself to make eye contact.

“yes,” you gasp. “i’m here.”

izuku beams. he kisses your nose, then kisses the tears on your cheeks. “there she is.”

sometimes, like right now, izuku loves you so much it frightens you a little. it's a strange feeling when you've spent years building walls to protect yourself and someone meticulously disassembles them. he didn't break them down, he showed you why you didn't need them anymore. now, here he stands, worn but satisfied in front of your tender and defenseless heart.

with every kiss, he promises to take good care of it. every touch says: i can protect you better than those walls ever could. i see who you are, i know what you need.

to be loved is to be seen, and he makes you believe it. there's no one else who could have you like this. you both know it, both feel the gravity of it. what a privilege, to be needed like this. what a privilege to give yourself.

"i love you," he whispers. it's uttered like a secret, but one you already know.

more tears run over. “i love you so much,” you blubber, gasping when he grips your hand tight in his and moves them up until they rest beside your head. he whispers how much he loves you over and over, calling you his good girl, all while his cock threatens to tear you in two. “f-fuck, izuku, it’s too much, i can’t.”

“you can,” he murmurs, “you can do it, you’re already doing so well for me.” the fingers that rest on your abdomen squeeze softly. he gets a shiny gleam in his eyes. you know that look, one that threatens an impending flood of emotion.

"right here"–his pace is starting to turn erratic, thrusts lacking any semblance of consistency, meaning he's close–"gonna put a baby right here. our baby–" he's choked by his own guttural groan when your cunt clamps down on him. both of your chests heave, breaths syncing until they're all shared. "tell me you want it," he begs you. the whiny tone in his voice is like a drug, taking you higher and higher and higher.

"i need it," you cry. "i need it. need your cum, need you to fill me up all the way–i–please–"

you could snap at anytime, your body vibrating like a string pulled tight, but you're waiting, holding on so that you can finish together. you want to look right in his eyes as he gives you his seed, wanna see his face the moment he fulfills both of your wishes and unbreakably tie the strings holding you together. the way you're begging for.

"i've got you," he gasps, "take it all, baby, f-fuck"–his eyes go wide–"take everything, you can, you can."

his eyes are glassy with unshed tears, and he looks like he might be panicking but it's not panic, just a feeling of pleasure so intense he doesn't even know how to process it. he thrusts hard once, then twice, and you feel the way his cock throbs as he unloads deep inside you, as deep as he can possibly go.

being fucked full of izuku's cum is already one of the best feelings you can possibly imagine, and it doesn't come close to this, with the threat of your actions looming over your heads and sending a thrill through your gut. your orgasm slams into you like a bus as every muscle seizes at once and then slowly start to relax as waves of pleasure roil your blood, your pussy squeezing around him, milking him and sucking in every drop of cum he gives. it's so warm, flooding inside you and making you feel like you're floating.

you tremble and moan, unable to do much else because izuku's body is still flush with yours, his hand still pressing yours back into the cushions behind you. there's no space between your bodies and he's still barely close enough... but the way your eyes are locked on his fulfills the desire for connection that courses through you. it's too much, so much that you want to look away but you can't. your body won't let you, and you can see the same reality reflected in his glistening irises as a few tears slip from the corner of his eyes.

two hearts beating in one rhythm, two lungs sharing the same breaths, two eyes reflecting the same tears.

it's the longest time has ever stretched. in this moment lies infinity, as you swim through the cocktail of dopamine and oxytocin your brain is pumping through your system. you're trembling, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rattling through the marrow of your bones.

izuku doesn't dare pull out, just drops his head to your neck and sucks in air in gasping breaths that feel hot against your skin; soon, you feel the gentle press of his lips there instead. you bring your free hand to the back of his neck, using his hair as an anchor to grab on to, rubbing featherlight circles into the base of his skull.

several minutes pass, just like this, in the quiet and sticky air that fills the intimate bubble you're floating in.

finally, finally, once your heartbeats have returned to a more normal rhythm and you've regained feeling in your extremities, he so gently lifts his head and kisses you nice and slow. his cock has gone soft but he still doesn't pull out, relishing in the closeness too much to break the moment. you smile into the kiss, and he laughs a little, pulls back and rests his forehead against yours.

"that was..."

"what the hell," you murmur, "insane." softly, your thumb traces his cheekbone.

when he rubs your noses together you giggle. "you should run out of birth control more often," he jokes, and you laugh, then you bite your lip and flit your eyes down.

"not to be a mood killer, but–"

"i already made an appointment," he interrupts gently, giving you a warm smile, "for a morning after pill. that's what you were going to say, right?"

you narrow your eyes in slight suspicion. "yes...?" his smile turns a little guilty but he doesn't look very apologetic. "when did you have time for that?"

"i did it on my way home..." he confesses, and you gasp, then roll your eyes. of course he did. it's equally thoughtful and presumptuous, although izuku prides himself on making highly informed guesses based on his predictions which, admittedly, are right most of the time.

you decide that it's just thoughtful. still, you say, "i knew it! you're such an instigator!"

izuku just laughs. "i can't say that i'm sorry for it."

you can't help but laugh with him. "yeah. me neither." tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, you raise your chin to hint at your desire for a kiss, and just like always, he indulges you. over-indulges you, biting at your bottom lip and slipping his tongue into your mouth. your body reacts before your mind has time to catch up and you curl into him. the sensitive walls of your pussy flutter and you feel his cock twitch.

"tomorrow, huh..." you whisper. "we have such a limited window..."

he's growing harder by the second; the feeling makes you shiver.

"yeah," he agrees, "gonna make it count."