#weasel writes

The slam of your apartment door echoes like a thundering gong bringing a boxing match to an end. A second after, you can almost hear the emptiness, the calm your home is so suddenly falling back into. A worn-out sigh passes the barrier of your lips to crash against the solid wood of your front door.

You came home around 7PM, drained from a rough patrol, to your friends—and boyfriends—waiting for you with a great surprise party. You can’t say you weren’t at least half expecting it, but it still warmed your heart to no end, seeing everyone there to celebrate in your honor. And it was a great night: all good laughs and cool music and class A shenanigans, as usual. But fuck, is the quiet of an empty apartment relaxing without Kaminari and Mina’s masterfully executed karaoke, or without Katsuki’s relentless yelling for Sero to “get your damn smelly feet off the fucking table, you filthy son of a bitch”.

Speaking of, as soon as you turn around to take a painful glance around your absolute chaos of a living room, you see no sign of either of your boyfriends. Katsuki is fussy, and Izuku is not a quitter—they won’t let you clean up this mess on your own, especially on your birthday. Still, maybe a little reminder wouldn’t hurt:

“Guys! Come on, there’s so much to clean up. I’ll do the dishes, you’ll just have to tidy up this mess!”

You only get silence for an answer, but you don’t bother waiting for too long. It’s about 1AM and you still have so much to do. You grab most of the used plates all over the room and head to the kitchen, getting straight to it. You don’t get halfway down your gigantic pile of dishes before you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist in a loving grip.

If the gesture itself didn’t betray him, you would easily recognize him by smell alone. Pine trees and a hint of citrus—Izuku is living proof that you can smell like a color. The freshness of it coats your space in a dizzying cloud as he nuzzles the side of your neck. It comes out muffled, warm and enticing when he speaks into the sensitive skin there. “Aren’t you coming to bed with us, honey?”

He sounds like a man with a plan—one he’s certain you’re going to follow. You keep your hands busy, scrubbing one plate after another, trying not to let yourself get distracted.

“We still gotta clean up all this mess, Izu. We can’t just leave it all like this.” You try to sound as firm as possible, to pretend the magnetic heat of him against your back doesn’t affect you.

“But you can’t clean up before you get all your presents,” he breathes directly in your ear, because this little shit knows you wouldn’t hesitate to jump off a bridge if he asked you that way.

That pokes at both your curiosity and at the warm feeling leisurely creeping between your legs. As if his intentions weren’t clear enough, his rough, calloused hands slip up beneath your shirt, letting his fingertips graze at the skin of your stomach. It sends a surge of shivers down your whole body.

“You know it’s not my birthday anymore?” you laugh, nodding towards the clock at the kitchen’s side wall.

“The day is not over until we say so, angel,” he whispers, and the warm air it blows at the side of your neck crashes like a hot wave flooding through your core.

This guy is a literal rabbit. It must be his hidden quirk, there is no other plausible explanation. Undeniably the horniest out of you three, and God knows that’s saying something.

Giving up on the dishes in admitted defeat, you set the one you’re holding aside before turning around to face Izuku. His arms haven’t left your waist, still firmly looped around you. Now that you’re facing him, you catch a glint of something in his bright eyes, an impish glow that’s not really like him. You feign a dramatic, exasperated sigh.

“I don’t have that much of a choice, do I?” you say, unable to repress a sly grin.

Your fate is sealed with a little shake of his head and a satisfied twist of his lips. Your feet are lifted from the floor, drawing a high yelp out of you, followed by a giggle as soon as your legs wrap around his hips. Just the familiar feel of his hands digging in the flesh of your thighs makes you wonder how you could’ve been reluctant in the first place. Your arms circle his neck and you take a deep breath in the curly mess of hair at his nape, high on the invigorating smell. He walks you to the bedroom in a few strides and you’re unceremoniously tossed on the bed.

The moment your back hits the mattress feels like falling into the lion’s den. And the predator’s menacing gaze falls over you, upside down, in the form of two clear-cut rubies, sharp enough to cut your skin and paint it in the very same color.

Harsh fingers take a firm grip on your jaw and you can’t look anywhere but into those threatening eyes.

“Looking for me, princess?” His voice is deep, raw, as sweet as his smell. It fills your lungs and pools into a honey puddle deep in your belly.

“Hm. I was starting to think you were avoiding cleaning. Wouldn’t have been nice of you.”

His grip on your jaw tightens, unyielding, making you yelp again.

“I don’t avoid anything, you brat.”

Refusing to lose yet another staring contest, you can only feel your shirt riding up to your chest and Izuku’s entrancing mouth dropping sweet kisses up and down your stomach. He barely lifts his head to chime in, “We wouldn’t let our dear princess do all the cleaning on her birthday, would we, Kacchan?”

“We won’t let her clean, but we damn well can shut that smartass mouth up.”

Katsuki’s grin is all sharp canines and predatory threat as he leans down closer, your noses almost touching. His next words are only whispers but hold the authority of a leader’s command:

“Get on your knees.”

You can’t repress the challenging gaze you shoot him, just for the sake of pride. You must be looking very intimidating right now from your place under him. Hell, you probably look silly upside down. Katsuki doesn’t look silly upside down, though. He looks just as gorgeous, as magnetic, as ever.

With an authoritative raise of his eyebrow, you finally oblige. You stand on your knees between them, facing Izuku and feeling Katsuki like a menacing shadow right behind you.

You barely get the time to kneel straight before two scarred hands cup your face and pull you into a kiss. It’s as sweet as always—languid and passionate, mesmerizing, his lips speaking volumes without a sound escaping them, with the exception of a few moans and whimpers.

You melt into the kiss instantly, relishing the embers his hands are igniting down your sides and burying your own fingers into his hair. Another pair of hands soon makes an appearance on your hips while another mouth assaults your neck with open-mouthed kisses and ferocious bites. His hungry lips trace the column of your neck like an animal would, and it sounds like a growl when he whispers, “You don’t think I’m gonna let Deku have you all for himself, do you?”

Your face is forced away from Izuku with a rough grip on your chin and a high squeal escapes you as he takes over your mouth, angry and dominant. It’s all tongue and teeth with Katsuki, his own way of claiming you all over again, every single time.

Your skirt rides up your thigh with a stroke of his other hand, meanwhile Izuku takes advantage of your exposed neck to bury his face there, mouthing at your throat and slipping his hands under your shirt. His fingers gently graze your sides before settling on your ribs to thumb at the undersides of your breasts.

They’ve got you drenched already, dripping so much into your panties it’s getting uncomfortable. Your hands are gripping both their hair but you let go as soon as you feel Izuku’s hands pulling your shirt up to peel it off. You’re left panting as you part from Katsuki's mouth and your shirt is sent flying.

It dawns on you that the two of them are still fully dressed, but the tentative hands you raise to reach up and start unbuttoning Izuku’s shirt are immediately slapped away, courtesy of Katsuki.

“You’re not getting us naked before you are, princess.” His voice is a low grumble, leaving no room for discussion. His fingers brush against your back when he unclips your bra before letting Izuku gently slide the straps down your arms and throw it to join your shirt.

“Kind of unfair, isn’t it?” You try not to get flustered from the nakedness of your chest and raise an eyebrow at Izuku, but you’re not addressing him. Not only, at least.

“If you wanted fair, maybe you should have thought about that before dating the two of us.” Katsuki’s voice is scornful, mocking. It makes your inner brat want to riot but brings the good girl you want to be down to her knees.

He grabs the zip of your skirt, before Izuku stops him.

“Wait, Kacchan. Leave the skirt, I…I like her like this.” His voice is soft, quiet and shaky like he’s not announcing your little skirt makes him hard as wood.

You don’t see him, but you can feel Katsuki smirking behind you.

“You dirty little perv.”

Izuku gets closer, his hands back on your waist, mumbling so low Katsuki must’ve barely heard him. “Can’t help it, she’s so hot dressed like this.” His hand creeps up your inner thigh, a light stroke that makes you hold a whimper as he leans into you, tantalizingly close as he all but whispers, “Did you dress up just for us, angel? You know what you’re doing to us when you dress like this, don’t you?” You can only nod in response, can only lock your hazy gaze in Izuku’s as your audacity to answer dies in your throat.

“Brat fucking knows what she’s doing. She’s practically begging for this.”

You shoot Katsuki a heated glare over your shoulder, but Izuku guides your face back to him with a tender hold of your chin, only to drop a soft peck on your lips. Then another at the corner of your mouth. Another at your cheek. A few ones at your jaw, multiple down your neck and collarbones. The lower he wanders, the bolder his mouth gets. The wet heat of his tongue peeks out and reaches your nipple. A light gasp escapes you as he starts sucking at it, squeezing your other breast with a hand so gentle despite its roughness.

It gets hungrier, messier and you’re pressed harder against Katsuki’s firm chest and the soft cotton of his button-up shirt. He’s ferociously nipping at your ear as his hands wander lower down your hips. Slipping over your short skirt, then under, where he keeps his fingers teasing over the fabric of your panties.

His finger dragging just above your clit creeps up on you like the first strike of lightning—you saw the storm building up for hours, but the white flash still startles you. And thunder rumbles with the echoing sound of his low chuckle in reaction to your pathetic sob. His fingers trail lower and lower, until it reaches the pad of fabric at your crotch.

“Fuck, dripping already?” he mocks, though you’re sure it copiously feeds his starving ego.

The lips around your nipple turn into teeth at Katsuki’s words, not without a muffled whine.

“Want me to leave her panties on too, Deku?” Katsuki scoffs in a tone of faux complaisance, his fingers hooking into the elastic of your underwear.

Izuku speaks against your breasts, his lips brushing your hardened bud with every word. “Don’t be like that, Kacchan. I know you like it as much as I do.”

“Damn right I do.”

“Can you two stop talking like I’m not here? You know, if you’re not focused enough I might end up disappointed.”

It all happens in a matter of seconds. Maybe you should have seen it coming but you absolutely don’t before you’re suddenly manhandled and whipped around like you don’t weigh more than a ragdoll. Katsuki’s knee bumps your thigh aside so that your legs part and you land on your butt on Izuku’s lap. You’re now facing Katsuki, and he’s sporting this signature feral grin that makes you think you should have shut up for once.

Your panties are literally ripped off you, the poor piece of fabric flying out of the way. You are only left with your extremely short excuse of a skirt that’s doing a terrible job at covering you, especially since it rides up with every bump of Izuku’s hard-on against your lower back.

One holds your arms back as the other sets your ankles on his broad shoulders, both in firm grips you can’t escape. Katsuki speaks between your legs, the cool air of his words blowing over your most intimate parts. 

“I’ll make sure you regret the attitude, princess.”

His eyes don’t leave yours as he dives in. His gaze is proud and menacing—he’s so confident in his ability to ruin you, and God knows he should be.

The first lick of his tongue makes you short-circuit, hot and sharp, snaking through you and it’s only the start of a maddening series. Your head drops back onto Izuku's shoulder, and he isn’t one to let such an opportunity go to waste—his mouth runs fond but ardent trails on the exposed skin of your neck.

Both your hands reach out to bury in their respective hair, grabbing a handful of each, pulling a bit with every flick of Katsuki’s tongue. Katsuki’s hair is prickly and dry under your palm, a feeling you’ve gotten used to during all the times you’ve grabbed it while he drove you to madness, just like right now. Izuku’s hair is so soft, on the other hand, because he just washed it, but it tends to get greasy faster. And it is a mess, a wild nest of heavy curls that fall so naturally all over his face, it makes you wonder how you’ve never seen a bird coming out of here.

Katsuki’s mouth is demonic, merciless. His eyes are fixed on his prey, relentless and focused. He knows exactly where to target and when. Every move, every flick of his tongue, every press of his lips and vibration from his throat is deliberate, a savage intention to tear you apart piece by piece until there’s nothing left but a mess of slick and breathy moans.

Still, you keep your lips tightly pressed. The urge to make noise, expressing your pleasure is overwhelming, truly. But you’re still a bit self-conscious about moaning shamelessly in front of not one man but two. You trust them with your life, but your pride always holds you back a bit from being loud. Until they decide they won’t have any of that anyway. A series of whines and hisses works up and dies in your throat as Katsuki toys with your clit with the tip of his tongue.

A light, but loud slap spreads tingles into the flesh of your thigh and you open your eyes—you didn’t even realize they were closed—only for them to fall over Katsuki’s all-consuming gaze between your thighs. His mouth doesn’t stop, still unrelenting on you.

“I think he wants you to stop holding back, angel. We both do.” Izuku’s mouth is running up to talk against your jaw, about as determined as the one between your legs. “You can let go for us, honey. Do you trust us?”

Your frantic nod comes without an ounce of hesitation. Of course you trust them. You wouldn’t hesitate to put your life in the palm of their hands after all.

Izuku has a low giggle at that. Devilishly cute.

“Perfect, then show us.”

Katsuki lets his tongue leave your clit only to wrap his lips around it and suck, hard.

Your lips part with a mind of their own, and the sound escaping them is nothing short of sinful. And it’s only the first of an escalating series, your inhibitions flying out the window as they both double their efforts to unravel you.

“There it is, such a good girl. Show Kacchan he’s doing a good job. He loves to hear you say it.”

Katsuki revels in every single one of your reactions, he really does. But what Izuku forgets to mention—because he knows you’re perfectly aware of it—is that he loves to hear you react to Katsuki’s ministrations even more. There are only two places where you witnessed Izuku going absolutely feral. On the battleground, facing a villain he’s about to Detroit Smash into a brick wall. And on this very bed, feeling the vibrations of Katsuki’s name when you softly whimper it into his mouth.

But you don’t even need to put on a show: when Katsuki eases a finger inside you, something in you snaps and you get loud. Both your hands tighten their grip on their hair, and Izuku grabs your jaw to lead you into a sloppy kiss. ‘Kiss’ being a fancy word for screaming ridiculous mixes of their names—you’re trying your best—into his mouth. The hand that’s not holding your face keeps a harsh grip on your breast, then runs down on your stomach to grasp the fabric of your skirt so tight his knuckles are turning white.

Izuku’s rutting against the round curve of your ass, his mouth leaving yours to pant hot air at your nape and if Katsuki’s mouth wasn’t already pushing you to tumble on a path to delirium, that alone probably would.

“God, angel, the sounds you make—”

Katsuki’s finger is joined by another, instantly dragging in and out against that spot that gets you boiling inside, and that he always finds too damn fast. Your walls tighten, your breath cuts right in your throat. There’s only a silent scream between Izuku’s open mouth and your own. The sturdy roots of Katsuki’s hair are put to a challenging test under your grip.

Then everything stops.

Katsuki’s mouth parts from you and your whole world feels empty. You consider yelling your rage, giving that bastard a piece of your mind, but, in your cloudy haze, all that comes out is a whiny, ridiculous, “Nooo, Katsuki, why would you do that?”

Your hand is snatched out of his hair and the pure intensity of his gaze all over you cuts any intention of throwing a tantrum, even when Izuku’s low giggle at your misery feels a lot like fuel to your seething fire. Katsuki keeps his tone impassive as he says, “Trust me princess, when you do cum it’ll be hard enough to send you into another dimension.”

Izuku chimes in before you get to say anything, and when you catch the honeyed purr of his voice into your ear, “Kacchan, gimme a taste,” you’re so grateful he did.

An obscene smirk stretches Katsuki’s godly features, still glistening with your juices under the dim light of your bedroom.

Their lips collide just above your shoulder. It’s magnetic and inevitable. And it is messy—both their faces are now dripping with your slick. Izuku takes everything with outrageous hunger, his tongue swirling around Katsuki’s, not missing a single drop of you. He hums into the kiss, buries a hand into Katsuki’s hair that’s welcomed with a low and guttural groan, and you—you’ve never been wetter in your entire life.

It’s in moments like this that you truly feel like the luckiest dumbass on this entire planet. You never get tired of witnessing this—them. Together. Of being blessed with the holy sight of their noses brushing as they shift angles, of Izuku’s shameless moans and Katsuki’s sharp hisses, of their smiles, warm, fond against each other’s mouth. It’s something they’ve both worked so hard for, they deserve it—deserve each other’s love and your own and so much more.

When they finally part, you’re feeling dizzy, like you were the one kissed out of breath. Izuku speaks against Katsuki’s mouth, eyes half-lidded and voice throaty with lust. “God, I wanna taste her.”

“Go right ahead, nerd.”

Izuku pets a gentle hand in your hair, the cotton clothing his chest still pressed against your back. "Whaddya say, angel? Wanna sit on my face?”

You raise a sassy eyebrow at him, a bitter taste persisting on the tip of your tongue. “Will I get to actually cum this time?”

“If you behave, we’ll see about that,” Katsuki snaps in his place, from the side of the bed where he’s now standing and already going for the first top buttons of his shirt. Judging by his amused grin, the glare you try to shoot him probably looks more like a childish pout than anything menacing.

You feel Izuku shifting to lay down behind you, caging you between those massive—still clothed—thighs of his. Your eyes follow Katsuki’s fingers working each button open, finally revealing his toned torso for your fascinated eyes and it’s embarassing how you can’t stop staring. The bright white fabric slides down his arms, following each and every curve of ripped muscle, every vein and every scar marking his skin—

And it’s a condescending whistle that gets you to finally look back up to meet the same sly grin that hasn’t left his damn gorgeous face. You take the twist of his index as an order to turn around and take your place on Izuku’s face, so you do.

As soon as you straddle his freckled cheeks, he’s looking up at you like you invented beauty, the bright emerald of his eyes turning into something dark and fervid. The telltale clang of Katsuki’s belt reaches your ears, followed by the unmistakable thump of fabric crashing to the wooden floor—it all makes you twitch above Izuku’s waiting mouth. His hands run up your thighs in a languid stroke and you finally take your seat. His eyes are sparkling with lust as he meets you halfway, lifting his head a bit, so eager to finally get you on his lips.

It’s sloppier with Izuku, like he’s making out with your intimate parts. He eats you out like a feast, like a starved man who’s suddenly offered a whole buffet and forgets how to use cutlery. A raw, hungry ‘mmm’ resonates through your core, sending vibrations all over you. You look down at him, pulling your skirt up and all you see are half-lidded, mesmerized green eyes.

The tips of his fingers sink deeper and deeper in the soft flesh of your hips and he’s willing to take everything from you, drinking at the source with his eyes closed like he just found the Fountain of Youth, and he’s not letting go until he’s drained it dry. His skin is growing a pretty shade of pink under his freckles as he forgets all about breathing.

He’s pushing his tongue inside you, deliberately avoiding your clit because he knows it’ll get you to ride his face at some point. It does, like every time: your hips move on their own, rocking over him and he thanks you with a pleased mewl vibrating through your whole being and a ravenous suck on your clit.

“Oh God, Izuku, just like that...fuck—yes!”

The high wail of your last word almost covers the other ring of a belt that resonates through the steamy air of the room. But you heard it just fine, and as your eyes meet Izuku’s, you figure he also did. His wide, wet eyes are looking up at you with something that looks like panic. In a second his lips let go of you as his head falls back and ‘obscene’ doesn’t even begin to describe the moan that passes his shiny lips.

“Fuuuck, Kacchan…”

You turn around as much as the position lets you, and what you find there makes you clench instantly: Izuku’s cock stands free, rising from his open zipper and pulled down briefs, shining with pre-cum and the wet trail Katsuki just left over the whole length of it. Katsuki’s leaning over him, focused, working his tongue over and around the tip, redder than ever. He didn’t even notice you, unashamedly staring.

He took the time to open Izuku’s shirt all the way down, letting you admire the erratic rise and fall of his stomach with every erratic pant. The sight is breathtaking and, feeling the grip of Izuku hands on your hips, there’s nothing you can do to contain your high, desperate whine.

Katsuki eyes rise on you, quick and sharp, and pure mischief lights up his eyes instantly. You catch the glimpse of a smirk right before he speaks. “Like what you see, princess?”

Your lips are parted but no sound comes out; your nod is barely conscious.

“That’s too bad, because you don’t get to watch.” He shifts to land a hard smack on your ass, making you wail in what you cannot really identify between pain and pleasure.

“Be a nice girl and turn around to focus on what’s in front of you.” His lips brush against Izuku’s rock hard cock with every word, and judging by the little whimpers under you, Izuku’s probably feeling every single one of them.

“And you damn nerd better get back to work. That pussy ain’t gonna lick itself.”

Izuku pulls you back to his mouth with a bruising grip on your ass and a muffled moan for an answer. As if the sound alone wasn’t enough, when you turn around, you’re blessed with the hottest picture you ever laid your unworthy eyes on.

Izuku’s gaze is back on you, a teary, unexpected mix of panic and determination, but focused like he was never distracted, his brows curving in a slight frown that strains harder as soon as Katsuki is back on him. You can almost read his every move on Izuku’s cock, the face between your legs growing redder, the hands on your ass spilling flesh between splayed fingers.

One of his scarred hands runs up your ass to stroke the small of your back, pushing you closer to him, willing to suffocate in your heat and die a happy man. The harder Katsuki goes on him, the louder he gets against you, his every noise reverberating against and into you in a delicious echo.

His shoulders and chest bump up against your ass repeatedly with every thrust into Katsuki’s face. The feeling fills your hazy mind like thick smoke; Izuku’s desperate hips rising and falling, hitting Katsuki’s nose, his ribs beginning to show, stretching the freckled skin of his abdomen. It’s all wild imagination only, since you can’t see anything aside from half of Izuku’s burning face, but that alone tells you all you need to know about what’s going on behind you. You let your fingers lazily run through his bangs, pushing them back so you get the total view of his gorgeous face in all its flushed glory. 

You’re openly riding his face now, your soft whimpers growing into desperate wails as you come closer to your well deserved orgasm and, apparently, so does Izuku. His muffled cries grow in intensity with every second, and your gentle push of his hair grows into a harsh tug. His nose wrinkles, hitting your clit while his tongue slows down on your slit every time Katsuki does something a little bolder. But it speeds back up with renewed vigor, every single time, dragging all the way up to your clit.

“Ah—P-Please, Zuku, baby, please…”

Maybe it's Katsuki's raw groan behind you in reaction. Maybe it’s the glorious sight of Izuku’s eyes—the intense black of his pupils eating up the pretty green of his irises. Maybe it’s a bit of both, but it all throws you over the edge with such violence your knees almost give out.

And well, Katsuki didn’t lie earlier. You’re given a glimpse of heaven as you ride your orgasm on Izuku’s face. From what you can see from your place, he’s coming too, hard, wiggling under you but pulling you tighter against his face, digging his nails into your hips hard enough to bruise for a week. You’re crying with pleasure, your moan long, desperate and joining Izuku’s own muffled scream between your legs.

You’re not given a second to come down from your high. Two strong hands pull you back by the hips and you’re snatched out of Izuku’s grip before you find yourself straddling his waist. Katsuki’s massive forearm comes to loop around your middle, cutting the air right out of your lungs as he slams your back against his chest. His hand grips at your skirt, slips under it and flicks it up, letting the scorching heat of his cock tease the delicate skin of your ass. Leaving a hand on your hip to hold the fabric up, he lets the other crawl back to your jaw, keeps you from turning around and forces your face ahead, your dazed eyes naturally falling over Izuku’s exhausted form laying there, entirely bare aside from his shirt spread open.

A warm, panting breath settles by your ear as Katsuki speaks right into it. “Maybe I should thank Deku for getting you all ready for me.”

His words are punctuated by a rock of his hips against your ass, slow, languid. The massive length of him stands against you like a threat, like a promise, and it makes you whimper for it.

Izuku’s eyes are now fixed on you, an enthralled expression tinting his wide eyes and parted lips, still glimmering with your slick up to his nose.

Katsuki enters you without warning, the both of you straddling Izuku’s hips as he fills you full. You’re dripping with slick and spit and lust so he slides right in, but that doesn’t make the stretch any easier to handle. He gives you the time to adapt, the harsh hand on your jaw dropping to your breast in a stroke so gentle it almost makes you forget how hard he usually fucks, and how it shouldn’t be any different today. Just the thought of it makes a grin crack on your face and your walls clench around him, earning a deep groan. He’s thumbing at your nipple, a tender gesture that makes you melt on your knees.

One of your hands reaches up to scratch the short hair at his nape, which he knows means that he can move, so he does. He sets a slow pace, just dragging in and out, his nose brushing against your neck, breathing you in.

Your eyes fall over Izuku, who’s getting visibly hard by the second, half-lidded eyes drifting down to where your body and Katsuki’s join while the sheets crease under his grip. A hint of warm air hits the side of your neck with Katsuki’s chuckle. 

“How’s the view from down there, nerd?”

Izuku’s eyes lift, switching between yours and Katsuki’s, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He sits up, never breaking eye contact, and peels out of his shirt with such urgency, you swear you caught a glimpse of green lightning. With a mind of its own, his hand reaches down to his own cock to stroke it lazily as he speaks against your jaw, his voice surprisingly deep, “So freaking amazing.”

The words go straight down to your pussy like they never even passed by your ears. You don’t even acknowledge how loud you moan until you hear the both of them chuckle with pride. Katsuki’s thrusts are getting faster, stronger too, and a sloppy, lewd rhythm soon bounces against the walls of your shared room.

“Are you really gonna let Deku take care of this by himself? Come on baby, the least you can do is be a good girl and help him out.”

You’re almost sent flying over Izuku with a particularly harsh thrust and you’re not very proud of the squeal that escapes you as you barely manage to hold yourself up on your hands. Izuku’s back hits the mattress, but he still has the reflex to hold your shoulders so you don’t tumble all over him.

Katsuki doesn’t stop pounding into you for a second, still going faster. Holding yourself up on one hand, you reach down to grab Izuku with the other, immediately catching up to the pace he set himself. Now that both his hands are free, Izuku reaches up to cup your face, looking up at you with adoring eyes, so bright and tender and loving.

“God, baby...You look gorgeous when you get fucked like this,” he coos as one of his hands trails up to bury in your hair. You cry out at both his words and Katsuki’s hips, now hitting your ass with every thrust in an unwavering rhythm. You tighten your grip around Izuku, rubbing your thumb over his tip. His head falls back on the pillow, his hair a halo of green softness spread over the linen.

“Hnnn, yes, keep going, angel...feels so good—”

That’s when Katsuki decides it’s a good moment to speed up again. The strength he’s charging on your abused pussy grows up with every slap of skin against skin, and it hits just right every single time. You’re a mess between them, a puddle of cries and whimpers. Another particularly hard thrust makes you lose balance again but this time, you crumble head first on Izuku’s chest, your nose bumping one of his collarbones as you accept your fate and just stay there, both your hands weakly gripping his shoulders.

A sharp scoff strikes behind you: “Oh, baby can’t even stand on all fours?”

“Don’t be mean, Kacchan!”

“But she loves it when I’m mean!” You might as well have heard his sly grin in the tone of his voice. “Don’t you, sweetheart?”

His mocking, condescending tone sends a sharp strike of electricity though your whole body. It takes the strength to answer right away from you. But Katsuki never takes silence for an answer. You’re pulled right back up against him with a tug on your hair and an arm looped around your waist, his hard chest hitting your back with every slap of his hips. He growls right into your ear, his tone menacing:

“You know what I think? I think you got the nerve not to answer me because you know I hate that shit, and you know it’s gonna make me get even meaner. And since it’s such a special day, I think I can oblige.”

But he doesn’t speed up, just goes even harder on you—it feels like his cock actually pounds your brain. Izuku takes himself back in hand to the sound of your moans, higher and higher, louder and louder. He’s looking up at you with wonder in his eyes, stroking himself faster as Katsuki ruins you right over him.

“Just look at him. So desperate to fuck you, to finally slip his pretty cock into you. Well, he’s gonna have to wait until I’m finished with you.”

Which shouldn’t take long, judging by Katsuki’s breathless grunts and his hand creeping down to reach your clit.

“‘Suki, please, I’m—ah!—I’m almost there—there, yes! Oh my God, right there!”

“Give us another one, baby, you can do it, c’mon…”

With a few rubs of his finger you’re gone, clenching around him with a high-pitched wail. Your first orgasm submerged you like a warm wave, gently flooding all over you. This time it hits you, and it’s nothing gentle—it feels like drowning, makes your head fall back, your voice weakened and the air cut right in your throat.

Katsuki comes with a grunt, a “Holy fuck,” and a grip on your hips tight enough to mark skin. He fills you full of him, fucking his seed inside you with a last few thrusts.

Once again, you crash on Izuku, devoid of any energy. Your limbs feel like jelly, but the high is so, so sweet. You lay there, breathless as Katsuki withdraws and Izuku welcomes you on top of him, gently petting your hair as you nuzzle into his neck. He pecks at your temple, dropping sweet kisses while his hands trace mindless paths over your naked back. This man is too sweet for his own good.

The bed frame creaks a bit as Katsuki lifts from the mattress.

Izuku’s voice is soft, so quiet in your ear as he whispers, “You heard the boss. It’s my turn now.”

Never mind, this guy is a demon. They both are, and if this is what hell feels like, you might become the worst sinner to ever walk this Earth.

Again, you don’t manage to hold your gasp when he sits up swiftly, like you’re not splayed all over him with your entire weight and cups a hand under your ass so he can lay you down, settling his hips between your legs. Your head dangles over the end of the bed, and you find yourself facing Katsuki’s dick upside down. It still shines with the essence of you around him.

You jump a bit with the feeling of something sliding along your dripping folds and you look back up to find Izuku, settling between your thighs and looking down at you. He brings a finger to his mouth, the one he just coated in both your juices and Katsuki’s, and hums at the taste. He never breaks eye contact, only gazes at you, his eyes dark and foggy as he sucks on his fingers, dragging his tongue from knuckle up to nail. It makes your head spin and you let it fall back down with a drawn-out whine.

Katsuki is casually pumping himself back up, every stroke sounding sloppy with your slick, while Izuku is all over you—firmly placed between your legs, his hands running up your thighs and his mouth lazily pressing kisses up and down the presented column of your throat. He slides the zipper of your skirt down, and the poor piece of clothing is finally sent flying, leaving you bare for their starving gazes to eat you alive.

All there’s left to do is trying not to drool too much at the idea of what’s coming.

Once again, Katsuki’s thick fingers curl around your jaw, holding your face upside down, hanging at the edge of the bed, exactly like he wants you. The position is going to grow very uncomfortable in very little time. But you let him, like you let him do anything to you—let the both of them, because it always feels so, so good in the end.

Katsuki gently grazes the tip of his cock against your swollen lips as a clear expression of what he wants from you. A wave of shivers runs all the way down to where Izuku is placed between your thighs.

“Open wide, princess.”

You don’t discuss, too far gone in your hazy daze to think of a single reason to refuse this. You do as he says and he slides the tip into your mouth slowly, not wanting to choke you from the start. You’re quick to respond, kissing it, letting your tongue trace the slit. You can taste the salty reminder of you all over him. He groans, taking it all as an invitation to intrude further and you welcome him with blatant hunger, the vibrations of your low moan surrounding him whole.

You’re spread wide over the bed. Not just your legs, but your entire body, and your entire soul with it, all open and vulnerable for them to do whatever they want with.

You breathe heavily through your nose as you take most of Katsuki’s length in your mouth, and feel the reassuring stroke of Izuku’s hands over your sides and hips.

As Izuku licks a straight stripe along your throat, from collarbone to chin, Katsuki moans above you:

“Fuck yeah, take it all in, baby...That’s it, you can do it.”

They’re so close, the both of them, you can feel it. It’s insane how wet you are; it all drips to pool into a puddle on the sheets as Izuku’s tip teases your entrance, waiting for approval—though you don’t really know whose approval he’s waiting for, probably a bit of both.

He enters you a second later, slow, gentle, inch by inch. You can’t see anything, your eyes are pressed closed because if they were open all you would be able to see would be Katsuki’s balls anyway. You try to relax, to allow yourself to just feel, just take, because there’s nothing left to do except give all of you and accept what you’re given.

As soon as Izuku bottoms out, you feel the heat of his chest leaning over you, his breath crushing over your ear as he talks, low and husky:

“God, just look at you.” The warmth of his breath hits your cheek and sends goosebumps down your whole being. “There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for us, right, angel?” He starts moving, so slow you barely feel the motions of his hips. “I would say it looks a lot like it’s our birthday and not yours, but we all know you love this so much, don’t you?”

The moan you make around Katsuki is sinful, loud and obscene because you do, you do love this. Love the way they take such good care of you, the way they double-team to extend your limits further and further in the most delicious way.

Izuku speeds up a bit, but Katsuki doesn’t move, just stays still, lets you take the length and weight of his cock between your swollen lips, his grip less firm on your jaw, his fingers grazing over your cheek and your ear in soothing circles. The steady rhythm Izuku sets is enough to make you move around him anyway.

It’s still slow, and it stays that way. He goes so deep every single time, the friction against your walls is marvelous, and it becomes not enough very soon. You whine again around Katsuki, rocking up with every gentle roll of Izuku’s hips—calling for him to go faster, to give you more than this. But he doesn’t give in, keeps up with a maddening rhythm.

His hot breath crashes on your exposed neck—you can’t see him but can feel his whole body leaning over yours, pecs brushing your nipples repeatedly. His tongue traces the veins straining against the thin skin of your throat, his right hand reaching down to rest on your ass.

“Such a good girl, you take it all so well.”

You’re dripping all over them, both spit and slick. The more you get from them, the more eager you grow. Your hands are clawing at Izuku’s back, frantically going up to bury in his hair, pulling a bit at the wild mess of his curls, then back down to grab and scratch the firm skin of his shoulders, in a desperate attempt to get him to go faster, harder, give you anything more than this.

“Damn, someone’s really fucking desperate for cock. One in your mouth and one in your cunt and it’s still not enough for you?”

“Fuck, she feels so good, Kacchan. Keeps squeezing me, can’t hold back for long—”

And with that, he speeds up a bit. It’s still not enough, but it gives the both of you some relief as he rams into you, still slow, but harder, deeper. It sends you further into Katsuki’s thighs each time with broken moans and muffled cries.

It’s way too much and painfully not enough all at once, feeling like their cocks are filling your entire being, cutting your oxygen, freezing the blood right in your veins, squeezing the heart out of your chest. The room resonates with Katsuki’s raw groans, your muffled whines, Izuku’s breathless moans and the lewd slap of his hips against yours. His grip on your ass is bruising, his fingers digging in your skin so hard it’d be painful if it wasn’t your own cloud nine. The curly hair at the base of his cock rubs against your puffy clit repeatedly.

Then he speeds up again, reaching a decent rhythm. Your legs come up to loop around his waist, pulling him in.

Katsuki doesn’t even have to move, the force of Izuku’s thrusts makes it feel like he’s fucking your face.

It’s overwhelming, all of it. The feeling of giving, of taking, and of trusting. They’re everywhere over and around you, crowding your space, and it feels like there isn’t a single part of your body they’re not touching.

Izuku’s hands are running all over you as he goes faster and faster, stroking your sides, groping your ass. Licking and kissing and nipping at everything within his reach. Moaning into your skin, shameless, willing to show everything to the both of you.

Katsuki’s hand still rests on your jaw, his grip firm just for show, but so fond in the way he cannot keep his fingertips from soothing your face. He knows your jaw is starting to hurt, your breath is running short—they both know it.

You’d probably be screaming loud enough for half the city to hear you at this point, if your voice weren’t all muffled by the girthy weight filling your mouth. You’re struggling to breathe through your nose, getting dizzy. It feels like Izuku is pounding through your soul.

“Ngh, fucking hell, just look at that, Deku. Isn’t that a damn sight?”

“God, yes—you’re doing so good, angel. Gonna cum for us, yeah? Milk me dry and scream around Kacchan’s cock? Do it, baby. Come on.”

And just like that, you’re gone. Your whole body tenses around them, your back arching unnaturally as you scream over Katsuki. Izuku guides you down your high with his last thrusts as he empties himself inside you with a bite to the crook of your shoulder, mixing himself with what remains of Katsuki inside you.

The vibrations around Katsuki send him over the edge last, filling your throat before pulling out and falling to his knees, his torso collapsing on the bed right next to you. Izuku simultaneously pulls out and lays on his stomach beside you. You just lay between them, out of breath, staring at the ceiling and seeing stars there.

The three of you fall into quiet peace, a moment neither of you feels like interrupting. The silence is comfortable, only troubled by all your panting breaths, out of sync, filling the room like fresh air dispeling heavy smoke.

Your heart is in your throat, half your face is covered in spit, your body is worn-out. You’re  hot and sticky and exhausted. It’s the best feeling ever, to know they’re feeling it too, to know the three of you chose to share these moments. And the high is so, so worth the fall.

Katsuki is the first to rise—he always is. He walks to the bathroom, ass naked, without even grabbing underwear.

“I’ll run you two morons a bath.”

Izuku gets to his feet after a couple of minutes, leaning over you and whispering, his voice soft velvet to your ears: “Come on angel, let’s go clean up a bit, you can’t fall asleep like this”.

You scoff at his words. Your legs are so weak you’re not sure you could even stand. You’ll look brilliant on patrol tomorrow, walking sideways like you got run over by a truck.

“Mhmm, just watch me.”

You’re lifted from the bed without any chance of protesting, strong arms wrapping around your shoulders and knees without a word. You catch the glimpse of an impish smile that’s just enough to keep you from getting mad.

“Noooo...Let me sleep!” Your little fists are so weak, bumping against his chest, but you’re not even trying. Of course if you really tried you could totally beat his ass. Duh.

“We’re not letting you sleep all night covered in sweat and cum.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t like that.”

He barely gets the time to raise an eyebrow at you before Katsuki’s voice raises from the bathroom, distant but as expressive as always: “Just shut the fuck up and let us clean your filthy ass, for God’s sake.”

Izuku sets you on your feet as soon as you enter the room, already foggy with steam. The air is warm and humid, feeling like a cozy blanket wrapping around you whole.

The tub is absolutely huge, so spacious it takes up half the bathroom. It was a requirement for you three when you got this apartment, along with a few other things. All of them revolved around space. It is already half-filled, up to Katsuki’s waist. He’s leaning back with his arms and legs spread, taking so much unnecessary space the picture is almost funny.

The water is piping hot, like expected from Katsuki, but so soothing on your abused skin and sore muscles. You take a seat between his legs, leaning your back against his chest while Izuku adjusts to sit in front of you.

You start cleaning each other at some point. It’s a natural reflex for the three of you—it always feels so soft, so intimate. And well, you also reached for shampoo with certain urgency as soon as you spotted what looked a lot like cum in Izuku’s hair. While Katsuki works at your back, still painful from his ruthless pounding (maybe he feels a little bad after all), you massage Izuku’s scalp, letting the soap lather into a white, coconut scented cloud. He breathes a series of pleased little moans, growing in intensity as you scratch your nails through his mess of wet curls.

“Hmm, feels good...”

“Shut the fuck up loser, you’re gonna make me hard again.”

Katsuki’s heatless threat is like talking to a wall. Well, a petty and horny wall. Izuku lets out his filthiest moan, bouncing against the tiles in an intense echo. And another. And another. His hair is still ridiculously covered in shampoo but, expecting the storm, you stop your ministrations.

Katsuki shifts behind you, ready to attack like a rabid dog, even growling right in your ear. This animal.

“What did I say——you wanna fucking go?”

They’re idiots. The both of them. Your idiots.

You speak before you even think.

“Thank you. Thank you for tonight. I love you both so much.”

Izuku raises fond eyes at you, reaching to take your hand. But it’s Katsuki who answers you first:

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to thank us for fucking your brains out.”

“I think she meant for the party, Kacchan.”

“For fuck’s sake, I know that, dipshit! I’ll bite your dick off, how’s that sound?”

“Kinky.”

This time Katsuki really goes at Izuku, bumping his chest against your back so you end up, once again, nose first into Izuku’s shoulder. And since he decided to play along, you decide it’s a good time to get out of here. They’re cute, but they’re a bit like those huge dogs that are affectionate but absolutely not aware of their strength. You chuckle to yourself at the thought.

You rise to your feet with a sleepy “Nope, too tired for this, good night” and step out of the tub, grabbing a towel before heading back to the bedroom. As soon as you’re dried off, you gracelessly collapse on the bed, entirely naked, and slip into the sheets with as much elegance as a worm crawling back to its hole. It doesn't take long before you’re dozing into a deep, dreamless sleep. But in the dark, starry depths of it, you feel them, hear them like a distant resonance.

You feel Katsuki’s arms wrapping around you, holding you tight, though careful not to wake you. His nose brushing the back of your neck, to smell you, sense you there, make sure you don’t fly away somehow in your sleep.

You also feel Izuku’s hand reaching for your cheek, featherlight, barely making contact. His wide, boyish eyes over you, scanning your face in its most relaxed state. And the gentle warmth of his feet rubbing against yours under the sheets.

And you feel his words, more than you hear them. Almost feel his lips talking against yours, so quiet it’s barely hearable, just above a whisper:

The ground grinds repeatedly under your hiking shoes, some pebbles being kicked forward on your way. You’re way too deep in the forest to hear any cars passing by and during the two hours you’ve been here you haven’t run into anyone. The place seems empty, the only souls breathing the forest’s thick air being you, Izuku and the birds chirping all around you.

The afternoon is coming to an end, the sun sinking down on its way to hide behind the mountains. The remains of its soft light are filtering through the dense leaves all around and above you. You’re surrounded by green, lush and immeasurable greenery, every plant merging into another.

You’ve left the marked paths, now wandering deep in the richest, boundless part of a forest you both know like the back of your hand after roaming it all over innumerable times. All over, except for this part, in which you’re setting foot for the first time today. Your many previous hiking sessions were shortened by your questionable sense of organization, always arriving too late to explore further into the unknown.

Leaves brush against your knees with every single step you take as you follow Izuku on his heels. He’s moving at a steady pace, his hands holding tight the straps of his yellow backpack that he’s had for as long as you can remember. He’s always so organized, has everything you two could eventually need and generally never do. Two huge flasks of water, an entire meal he calls ‘little snacks’, with sandwiches, fruits, protein bars, even hard-boiled eggs. A first-aid kit with disinfectant, bandages, scissors and painkillers. Hell, you’re even wondering if he has any pads for you in there, in case of an unexpected period. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

You giggle lightly when you see him stumble for the sixth time since you got here; he can’t seem to keep his curious eyes from drifting up and around, looking in every direction, probably retaining every detail and logging it in some impressive mental database of his. And he’s commenting on every little thing he sees too; he makes you notice things you never would have if it weren’t for his candid interest in everything.

“Oh! Look at that bird!” he exclaims, pointing at a branch over your heads. “Do you see it, right there, with the red mark!”

You turn your gaze to where he’s pointing and see a little bird, very cute, but so tiny you’re wondering how one could spot it without specifically looking for it. That’s probably what you like most about Izuku: his attention to detail. That’s the thing—nothing is too small for him, everything is worthy of interest. His eyes always light up with such curiosity, this child-like wonder and it was always one of your favorite things to witness growing up.

When he came over to your house at age six, he was always running around with some bug on his forearm, calling your name, yelling, “Look at this!”

Most of the time, it was a snail or a ladybug, and that always managed to catch your interest. Sometimes, it was a spider or a beetle, and he had you screaming in horror more than once, running to your mother’s legs with weeping eyes. Those times, he always watched you go with wide, sad eyes and a wobbly lip, because, “I would never hurt her, Mom! I swear I didn’t want to scare her!”

“Oh, yeah, I see it! It’s so cute!”

And it is cute, the way his huge green eyes go even rounder in amazement. You treasure these hikes for providing occasions to witness this. But as much as you wish this moment could last forever, the sun is beginning to set, you probably shouldn’t go deeper in the forest at sundown.

“We should probably head back to the car, Izuku. It’s gonna be dark soon.”

“Come on, it’s still so light—there’s no rush!” His lips crook a bit into an impish smile. “Scared that a bear is coming to get you?”

“There aren’t any bears here—we’ve been coming for five years.”

“Because if it’s the bears you’re afraid of,” he begins, ignoring you on purpose, “you know I’ll protect you, right?” he says, sticking out his chest like he’s some superhero.

“Against a bear? Right.”

“You’re underestimating me? That’s just mean.”

You chuckle at his antics, shooting him a look of yours that says, ‘Come on, please?’.

His eyes soften a bit, but he’s used to that look; it’s been years since it worked on him as well as you’d like it to.

“We can just keep going this way, then we’ll make a loop and head back to the car directly! It’ll be even shorter this way.”

“Alright, let’s do that,” you agree, and the smile it elicits from him makes something tingle deep in your stomach.

You move forward again, sinking deeper within the forest. It’s becoming harder and harder to walk, brambly branches and huge leaves blocking your way more and more with every step.

You’re a bit ahead of him when you catch sight of a sparkle behind the bushes. Just a glimpse of light, but you’re positive you saw it. Is there water here? You never really looked at a map of the place before—you just always went wherever you felt like and used the same tracks on the way back. You hurry up a bit, curious eyes fixed on that glimmer of light.

Soon enough the dense greenery comes to an end, and you’re finally out of the bushes, finding your way into a little clearing. You’re standing, speechless, in front of a pond: it’s about forty feet wide, catching the last rays of sunshine in a dazzling reflection. The water is surrounded by gigantic trees big enough to be home to an entire niche of biodiversity, and a half-sandy, half-stony shore with reeds rising from the water on both sides.

It’s all calm and quiet and massive trees, branches pouring, cascading above still water. The air feels cool, filled with a pure smell of dew and spring even though it’s the end of a hot day of July.

Izuku is close behind you and lets out a very cute, “Whoa,” ditching his backpack on the ground next to you in the middle of the cove. The both of you just stand there for a moment in complete silence, aside from the birds chirping. Izuku breaks it first:

“How come we’ve never seen this before? This place is amazing.” He sounds distant as he speaks, soaking up his surroundings like he always does.

“I guess you never know everything about anything,” you say mindlessly, without detaching your gaze of the wonderful view ahead.

He’s standing close to you, very close. You’re only noticing now that you’re coming down from the high of your discovery. Your arms are brushing, you can feel his body heat from how close you two are. It wouldn’t be the first time; you’re no stranger to being physically close to Izuku. You’ve been playing together since you were able to put one foot in front of the other. And you wish you could say it feels any different right now, but that would be a lie. Being close to him always felt the same. Always felt like the only easy thing in your life. The only constant.

Yet it’s not enough. No matter how close, it’s never enough, it never was. You hate yourself for feeling that way; you’ve never been the greedy, unsatisfied type. You have everything with Izuku. Well, almost everything.

But right now this place—this very quiet, beautiful place with no one in sight is doing things to your fertile imagination. Despite the sun just beginning to set, the summer air still remains thick with heat. You find yourself staring in the abyss of that water, admiring the masterpiece of a reflection on the surface, a painting of leaves and clouds and blue sky. It calls you, sings an irresistible song of fresh water on sweaty skin and strong, freckled arms wrapped around you.

You don’t know if the slight, insignificant detail that you would have to undress in order to dive into that water—since you didn’t bring a swimsuit—is a better reason to do it or to refrain from doing so.

You’ve lost count of how many moments you’ve shared with him just like this one. So many chances for you to take. You never have.

Back to the original issue: can you see yourself walk out of that clearing the way you always do? Can you see yourself going home, adding this missed chance to your growing collection of lost memories, of hands within your reach that you chose not to take?

The answer pops in your mind, crystal clear for the first time since you met him.

You drop your bag on the ground, turning to Izuku with a delighted expression stretching your features. The look on your face reminds him of one he’d seen on you as a kid, bouncing on the balls of your feet in front of the ice cream truck. At this moment he just knows you’ve got some stupid shenanigan in mind, like you always do. Once again, he isn’t wrong.

“Wanna take a dip?” You’re squinting at him from his side, a mischievous smile lighting up your face.

“I-I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” he stutters.

It’s been a long time since he last stuttered in front of you. He got rid of it years ago, but it still resurfaces sometimes in front of intimidating strangers or in a socially uncomfortable situation. Never in front of you, though.

“Me neither,” you answer plainly with that same impish smile, and his eyes go round at your implications.

“Wait, you can’t be—Oh my God—”

His heart does a great flip in his chest when he catches you taking the hem of your shirt up over your head. In less than five seconds, you’ve got him scorching hot, feverish and suddenly he can’t tell right from left.

His reflex is to bury his face in his hands. He respects you too much to take a peek, but you’re making things very difficult for him. He can hear you move towards the water, can hear the thump of your forgotten shoes hitting the ground one after the other, can hear the soft pad of your naked feet on the rocks.

“For the love of God, please, put it back on…” 

“What? Look at this view, it would be a shame not to make the most of it!”

He’s not looking at the view right now, he can’t let himself. He knows very well he won’t be able to focus on the trees when you’re standing pretty much naked—although he’s not sure to what extent—in front of him. You could be entirely naked right now and he wouldn’t be able to tell, his burning face still hidden in his shaking hands. His voice comes out muffled when he stammers, “I-It’s starting to get late, we really should get back to the car…”

“What, you’re scared of the bears?”

He can’t see you, but he knows you’re sporting that smug grin of yours, the one he first saw when you showed him your impressive collection of Pokémon cards on your preschool’s playground. You’ll have to take a lingering silence for an answer.

“Izuku, come on. I don’t bite.”

He’s not entirely sure the sight of you won’t gnaw him to the bone, won’t melt his entire body down and leave him a hot mess. He won’t be a man anymore, just a walking flame fueled by the heavenly sight of you. No, he can’t let himself fall into that. Obviously you don’t know what you’re doing to him.

Nevertheless, you’re probably the most stubborn person he knows. And he’s friends with Katsuki Bakugou, for God’s sake. He won’t be able to get out of this as easily as he wants, especially as he hears the delicate noise of water splitting at your feet as you enter the little pond.

He slowly moves his hands off of his face. You must have your back turned to him, so maybe he can drift his eyes off somewhere—

You are in front of him, thigh deep in the water now. In nothing but your panties. Your white, flower-patterned lace panties that are doing a very bad job at covering your backside. He lets out a long, pained whine, standing in the middle of the little shore with his arms dangling down his sides, not sure what to do with them.

“Why didn’t you at least keep your bra on?” His voice comes out way more wobbly than he intended to.

You turn a little so you can look at him, and it takes every little bit of strength he’s got left to look you in the eye. But as you’re turning around, the smooth curve of your breast starts showing, and God, is that your nipple?

He wants a giant hole to swallow him right now. He wants some forest creature to come for him right this instant, anything to keep him away from you, keep him from doing things he might regret. To punish him for having such thoughts about you, because you trust him, you’re so oblivious, so innocent, and he’s so weak against this inner monster that’s eating him away.

With a little frown, you deliver the answer like it’s self-evident as you kneel into the water, the surface just above your chest:

“I didn’t want it to get wet.”

“But you’re okay with your panties getting wet?”

The realization of what he just said is slow but surely comes. And when it does, he wishes even harder to get erased from the surface of this planet he’s already lucky enough to share with you. There is a long silence, and all he can hear for a few seconds are the birds chirping and the violent pounding of his heart against his ribcage, straining to get out.

You turn back around to look at him, dumbstruck. 

“I’m more than okay with that—”

“Please forget I just said that,” he cuts you off. He’s not sure he can bear to hear more of this.

“I’m never forgetting you said that. It’s pure gold,” you scoff.

He can only answer with a drawn-out whine. He doesn’t have any choice in this, does he?

When you dive in the water, he takes both his shaking hands to the hem of his shirt and starts undressing.

What the fuck am I doing?

The water is so pure you can see underwater as clear as day: the few rocks at the bottom, the little silvery fish all around you, and the last rays of sunlight permeating through the calm surface above your head. The water feels a bit cold on your naked skin since the sunlight and summer heat must only hit the clearing at certain hours of the day. Still, the cold water isn’t enough to clear your foggy mind.

What was I thinking?

You’ve always been a bashful person, why is it changing all of a sudden? Maybe it’s the devastating effect Izuku has on you.

You try to calm down a bit, taking a deep breath. So, you’re pretty much naked in front of him. Well, it definitely wouldn’t be the first time, and it (probably) won’t be the last. Now you just have to go through with your stupid idea. It’s no big deal, it’s only Izuku. Only Izuku.

Only Izuku.

Fuck.

You finally surface, not only because you can’t hide underwater forever, but also because, surprisingly, you’re not a fish, you have to actually breathe.

You push your dripping hair to the back of your head, still careful to keep your breasts under the water. Izuku’s already in to his hips when you turn around to look at him, your vision still blurry from the water trickling all over your face. He’s merciless, standing like that, only the elastic of his boxers peeking out of the water. You’re a bit surprised by the plain, black color. You were expecting something along the lines of blue, yellow and red. Izuku is full of surprises.

But nevermind the color of his underwear—what you find just above is mesmerizing. Your indiscreet, incorrigible gaze can’t help following the thin trail of hair tracing up to his navel, then the stunning lines of his abs, partly hidden behind his freckled forearms shyly crossed over them. The freckles spread up his powerful arms, gently sunkissed, scattering all over his broad shoulders.

Is he actually hiding, though? Doesn’t he know he looks like he was carved by the gods themselves?

“Have you done this before?”

The sound of his voice startles you a bit. Ah, right. You were shamelessly staring. It takes you a couple of seconds to force your distracted mind back into focus. “Done what?”

“Skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s my first time. It looks like it’s yours too.” His big, bright eyes drift around like they don’t know where to look. It’s really cute.

“It is,” he admits, now kneeling into the water as well. “I would’ve thought you were used to this.” You arch a single eyebrow in an amused frown.

“What, do I look like I have a professional degree in skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s just…You look confident, it just seemed like it.”

Confident? You’re nowhere near confident—you’re terrified. You try to keep your cool, but it’s probably the first time you’re putting on an act in front of Izuku.

“Well, you’re not so bad at it yourself.” You don’t miss the little blush coating his cheeks at that. “Also, I’m not exactly naked.”

“You’re not exactly dressed either, that’s a...v-very small piece of clothing.” He’s blushing a bit harder, looking away.

“Oh, seems like you paid some attention to my piece of clothing then, good to know.”

Now he’s quite simply scarlet. A very cute, very hot, freckled tomato. He’s so easily flustered, it only makes you want to tease him some more.

“Were your legendary All Might boxers in the dirty hamper? That’s a shame. I’m a bit disappointed,” you say in a mockingly innocent voice.

He doesn’t retort, simply stands there on his knees, shooting you an unreadable look and a little pout. After a few seconds, you open your mouth to continue, only to be startled by a strong splash hitting you in the face.

When you snap out of your shock, hair and face dripping all over your shoulders, you look up at him with what must be the scariest look of betrayal. Or the most ridiculous, apparently, since he starts laughing, louder and louder, and can’t seem to stop.

“Oh, you’re pretty pleased with yourself right now, aren’t you?” You can’t help but chuckle while talking, his laugh is so contagious.

“I am, yeah!” he manages to articulate, only starting to calm down.

As the calm of the forest returns, you watch his eyes go back to their usual round shape bit by bit, his face relaxing again. His smile causes butterflies to fly up and around in a whirlwind deep into your belly. You chuckle a bit at the feeling, almost embarrassed by how he’s making you feel like you’re in some dumb, cliche rom-com movie. On the outside, you must look a bit like a maniac, but he’s a nice guy, so he simply asks, “What is it?”

And before you can overthink yourself out of it, you’re hurling yourself at him. He barely has the chance to stutter a weak, “Wait!” before you’re putting all your weight on him, sinking his head deep in the water. Izuku may well be a nice guy, but you know he isn’t going to let you get away with this, so you’re not surprised when you’re dragged underwater by your legs. He lets go immediately, a bit abruptly, even, like it burnt his hands to touch you.

You both emerge from the water soon, and it takes you a second to get rid of the water blurring your vision, but then it hits you. How tantalizingly close you are to each other now, your bodies an inch away from touching. You’re both on your knees, enveloped in the coolness of crystal clear water and the reflections of the canopy of leaves above your heads. A spark of electricity makes you freeze on the spot; you’re so close to him your breasts slightly brush against his chest.

After a little eternity, you find the courage to look up at his face. He looks mindblowing, really. Despite the two decades you spent together, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen the pure, astonishing details of his freckles from this close. You would remember it, you definitely would. It’s a spectacular view, one of those visual memories that comes back to hit you in flashes. His nose and cheekbones are covered in them, drawing a mesmerizing pattern, more complex than the Milky Way itself. They’re an uncrackable equation, like a weird quirk of nature that you’ll never understand but don’t question anyway. They spread a little more scattered, but still very present, up to his forehead and down to his delicate jaw.

And his eyes—you could just drown in them. There’s this bright, blinding light there that feels like laying in the grass and looking up at the sunlight coating the leaves of this tree, the one you grew up near and always played under.

You swear you didn’t move, neither did he, and still you manage to get even closer to him. Now it’s you against the inexorable attraction that pulls you towards him like a fierce magnet. And it’s a losing battle, you think, as you’re both entering each other’s personal space like you share just one.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he can’t look you in the eye, seemingly too obsessed with your lips. You drop your gaze to his and find them calling for you. It’s been so long, now the thought of kissing Izuku seems unfamiliar despite being ever-present in your imagination for so many years. Like repeating a word so much it ends up becoming a series of meaningless sounds to your confused mind.

He’s the one who finally closes the distance, his lips landing on yours so softly you can barely feel them. He doesn’t move, simply content with the contact. You’re both eight years old again for a minute. The kiss feels like the little peck a kid would finally give to his crush in the middle of their school’s playground before running away to his friends.

Time seems to stop for God knows how long, and after what feels like no time and forever all at once, his lips move hesitantly against yours, bringing you back to reality. Right then, it all crashes on you like a tremendous wave. The distant echo of your mothers’ voices from the kitchen and the stupid cartoons they made you watch so they could talk for ten more minutes. The games alone together because no one wanted to play with you two weirdos. The piggyback rides, the dumb jokes, the video games (you always won). The neverending texting sessions at night because one of you couldn’t sleep. The fights that never lasted long enough to see the next sunrise because you both are way too weak for each other. All those stupid places that wouldn’t have looked half as breathtaking if it weren’t for him.

His lips are soft but roughly bitten. Hot and wet from the water and maybe from something else. He doesn’t taste like anything other than home, and that’s more than enough for you. His hands went up to cup your face at some point, but you’re too drowned in all the feelings coming up to the surface to pay attention to anything other than his soft mouth pressing on yours, more and more, opening up—

And it’s already over. You only notice that you’ve closed your eyes when you open them again when you don’t feel anything against your mouth other than the summer air. When your mind manages to regain any sense of function, the blurry focus of your gaze settles on his eyes. Wide open. Pupils eating up the dazzling viridian that puts the forest to shame. And a terrified expression in them.

He’s looking at you like he hurt you. His lips should still be on yours, kissing and sucking, not frozen like they are right now, obviously trying to express something painful as a few weak sounds pass their barrier before he finally manages to speak:

“Oh—Oh my God, I-I’m s—”

You don’t let him finish his stupid sentence. You don’t think twice before you take his face in your hands and lean in to kiss him again, with shameless intent this time. No more pretending—you’ve been waiting long enough for this and apparently, so has he.

It’s nothing gentle this time when your mouths crash against each other, teeth clashing and lips bruising under the weight of twenty years. You hold to his face like a lifeline, fingers sinking just a bit into his cheekbones, the tip of your nails getting caught in the knots of his dripping hair just above his ears. It’s messy, your noses rubbing before he angles his face better. One of his hands loops around your waist in a tight grip, forcing your chest to crush against his, the other burying in your hair at the base of your skull.

The feeling is electrifying, indescribable. It’s nothing like the pale, miserable depiction of your imagination. It’s discovering life in color when all you’ve always known was black and white.

The water is cool, but his body scorches against yours, burns your skin in the most exquisite way. The kiss is desperate on both parts, but neither of you is confident. His lips suck on yours with tentative motions, and you respond in kind the best you can. They are hungry, starving for flesh but don’t know how to hunt.

Your hands are gripping more and more of his hair, pulling harder, sending waves of heat all the way down his groin, and he’s not sure he can hide the bulge growing there for much longer.

He has to be sure, he has to be absolutely certain you want this as much as he does, because once he starts, he may not be able to stop. But you feel so good, all pressed against him. Your skin feels so soft under his hand at the small of your back he has to dig his nails in the skin of your waist so he doesn’t cross a line. But the curve just above your ass is begging for him to grip at the tender flesh and squeeze, fill his hands with it. He’s been dreaming about this for so long.

No, he can’t just hurl himself at you like a hunting wolf the first chance he gets—what kind of friend does that?

It takes him every bit of focus he has left to break the kiss, to part away from you. You have to discuss this, he can’t just throw away twenty years of friendship! Now you’re looking up at him with puppy eyes saying, ‘Why won’t you play with me?’ He breathes out a shaky sigh, and begins:

“Um, look. Believe me when I say I’ve wanted this for a very, very long time, and I love you so, so much. As a friend, I mean.” He sees you frown at this, catches a glint of something he doesn’t like in your eyes, then panics. “No, no, no, I mean, a-as a friend, but also more than that, o-obviously. But I don’t know what you want, you might be...d-disappointed, or...um—” His face starts heating up like it hasn’t in ages. He takes another breath, tries to clear up the muddled mess happening in his head. “Look, I just want the best for you, but you look...good, very good, and you’re making things very difficult for me, doing...this—”

“Izuku.” The deafening hubbub filling his mind falls suddenly silent, your voice a comforting, steady rock for him to cling to when his mind is storming out of control.

“Yeah?”

You get even closer to him, since he gradually set some distance while mumbling his anxious thoughts out again. You cup his face in your hands, a gentle, featherlight touch, and look up at him with determination in your eyes. You pull his head down a bit to settle on yours, your foreheads and noses connected, never breaking eye contact. Your lips graze over his, both your breaths mixing there, your voice a quiet whisper as you speak again. “Do you want me?”

Out of the jittery mess of his mind, the answer comes out like evidence, plain and simple: “Yes.”

“Then shut up and kiss me.”

You take action immediately, kissing him once again and this time he doesn’t hesitate to put his—still rather shaky—hands on you. The feeling of you is addicting, pushing his insecurities further in the back of his mind. He starts at your waist, running his thumbs there, feeling the goosebumps rising on your skin. They wander up your spine, counting every single bump of your bones, all the way to your nape. Then dragging them back down to settle on your hips, his fingers digging in the soft flesh. The little sigh you breathe on his lips causes an impressive amount of blood to run straight to his dick. 

Your mouth is distracting, dizzying, sucking on his bottom lip, nipping playfully. His tongue slides over your lips, then against your own when you open up immediately for him. You’re pressing against him even more, your breasts rubbing against his naked chest and he swears you’re going to be the death of him. You’re hanging from his shoulders by now, your arms circling his neck, still gripping a handful of green hair, pulling. You have to stop doing this—he might cum right away. He doesn’t say it aloud, only lets a moan escape him into your mouth.

He wanted this, wanted this for so long, and now that it’s real, it’s beyond everything he could have imagined. The heat of your skin, the weight on his shoulders as you cling to him, your breath in his mouth, your little sighs.

He’s only now noticing that his hands have gone to reach their destination with a mind of their own. They’re on your ass underwater, feeling the white, wet lace, the sole cloth on your entire body—that thing is just there to tempt him. He’s unsure if you like what he’s doing until you release a whimper, louder this time, enough to send a vibration against his mouth (and straight to his cock at the same time).

Suddenly, he wants to taste a lot more of you. You’re all open up to him for the first time—he has to. He trails a series of open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, savoring every little sigh escaping your lips, then to your neck, dragging his tongue up the column of your throat.

The water is fresh all over you, and he doesn’t miss the shivers running up and down your skin at the contact of the twilight breeze. He needs to warm you up, needs to make you feel good, needs everything to be perfect for you. With his hands still on your ass, he trails lower down to your collarbone, allowing some occasional nips on the way that have you shaking. He freezes, looking up at you from there.

“Is this okay?”

The answer comes out breathy, a little desperate: “Yes, yes, please!” It sends a wave of heat all over him, the way you like what he’s doing to you, the way he’s making you feel good.

He’s not experienced or anything, only had a few hookups a couple of times, so he’s not very confident in his capacities, aside from running his hands all over you because that’s how his instincts are manifesting. You know him better than anyone—of course you would know how lost he could be in this kind of situation. But he also knows you’re not much more experienced than him, and that thought is comforting.

He’s experienced in one thing, though. He feels like the worst, filthiest person on the planet for this, but it’s astonishing the number of times he jerked off to the thought of what’s happening right now. How many times did he fuck his hand in the shower thinking about the water trickling down your skin, about licking it off your breasts all the way up to your neck.

So he does what he’s been dying to do for years. your breasts are just above the surface, so he sits on his heels and licks down your chest. When his tongue finally reaches your nipple, giving it a tentative lick, you let out a gasp, encouraging him to get bolder. And he does, closing his mouth on it like it’s the sweetest lollipop; it’s all cold and hard and raised from the water, but it warms up really quickly against the furnace of his mouth. His right hand leaves your ass to cup the neglected other, running his thumb against the bud, squeezing the flesh. That’s when you reach out to bury a hand in his hair, and pull again. God, you can pull on his hair all day and night like this; he’ll never get enough.

His left hand, still on your ass, rises up to the small of your back, feeling you arching more and more, pushing against his mouth. A harder nip has you gasping and he lets his hands run all over you, wandering without direction. It’s messy and urgent; he can’t help it—you feel so good, so soft under his hands. He’s like a kid getting to open his Christmas gifts in the morning after an endless, sleepless night waiting for Santa.

You trail your hand down his chest and his abdomen, a gentle reminder that the power he holds right now could slip through his fingers any moment. He’s willing to give it to you, especially since he doesn’t really know what to do next.

Like you just read his mind, you take his hands in yours, stopping their chaotic race. He’s feeling himself flush a bit—was he going too fast for you? Did he scare you? Or did he just let himself become overwhelmed by his feelings and it didn’t feel good for you? His eyes are looking down directly at your naked chest, he realizes he never took a proper look at them, too busy throwing himself to taste them. They look just as good as they taste, as beautiful as the rest of you.

Tentatively, he raises his eyes to find your reassuring gaze and fond smile. You lead his hands down slowly, setting them on your hips, over the criminal lace fabric preserving your modesty. Your foreheads connect again, but you never break eye contact. Lacing your fingers together, you guide his thumbs into the elastic on both sides, and now that he gets what you’re trying to do, his mind just stops.

Your voice is barely a whisper, a mesmerizing caress on his lips when you speak again. “I think I’ve waited long enough, Zuku.”

Your tone is fond, but you sound so desperate, it’s unbearably cute. His mind fogs up, the smoke of your words filling his skull and he wants to drive you as mad as you drive him. Sure, you’ve waited a lot, but so has he. He isn’t going to rush this, not if he has any say in it.

He slides your panties down your thighs underwater inch by inch. It’s even too slow for him; right now he just wants to rip the stupid piece of lace off of you and fuck you and him both stupid in the water, hard and fast. But even more than that, he wants to take his time with you, wants to take you apart piece by piece. And the testy whine it elicits from you makes it all so worth it.

You shift a bit so he can take your underwear completely off and, in a second, it lays abandoned on the sandy ground of the shore. Just knowing you’re now completely naked in front of him, it sends boiling desire flowing through every single vein in his body. He can’t see that part of you yet, the water darkening along with the sky clouding his view beneath the surface, but nightfall can’t do anything about Izuku’s wild imagination. He’s dizzy, feeling himself slowly falling into a half-conscious daze, but you anchor him right where you are, bringing him back to the reality of your arms hooked around his neck.

He rests his hands on your hips, dragging his fingertips down the soft flesh of them. The idea of touching you down there is making his head spin, he can’t wait any longer.

“Can I—”

“Yes, I want your fingers inside me,” you say before driving your lips back against his.

Without further ado, one of them goes straight to your core, making you jump a bit, breaking the kiss just for a second. He runs his index between your folds, feeling hot slick already coming out of you despite the fresh water around. His touch is light, slow, hesitant as it glides up and down, testing the waters. He’s getting a bit further, putting a bit more pressure with every stroke and earning a few pleased sighs from your heavenly mouth.

He expected a sudden reaction as soon as he found your clit, but that doesn’t mean he was prepared for the drawn-out moan coming out of your gorgeous lips, wet from his mouth and from your dip earlier. He wants to hear that again, every day for the rest of his life. He drags his thumb over it, again and again, slow at first, but then quicker and quicker, and your voice grows louder with every speed-up of his finger.

Your hands go frantic over him, running up his chest and down his abs in repeated motions that feel a lot like it’s lust driving your limbs much more than your mind. You stopped kissing him at some point, your mouth too busy expressing every ounce of pleasure you felt to focus on such basic motions. Your face is buried in his neck, your hot breath crushing against his skin.

He presses his index inside, but he’s so focused on what he’s doing, trying not to hurt you, that he doesn’t notice the shift of your own hand leaning down until he feels it cupping the painful bulge in his boxers. His eyes go wide with a gasp, and when he looks at you, you already have a playful, but intense, gaze piercing right through him.

“Did you think I was gonna let you play all on your own, Zuku?” Your fingers graze over the soaked fabric, down his entire length and to his balls, throwing gasoline on the fire that’s been consuming him for ages. “Don’t be selfish,” you whisper directly in his ear as your hands slip his underwear down his thighs.

As soon as the piece of cloth gets to join your forgotten panties on the shore, you wrap your pretty hand around him. And when you start stroking, his eyes roll so hard he swears he can see the inside of his skull. It feels better than he ever could have imagined; it’s blistering, astonishing. The only idea his brain can manage to work out right now is that he wants you to feel just as good.

He only notices now that his fingers stopped moving, and they go right back to a steady pace, but it’s a matter of seconds before he drives another finger into you. Soon, you’re both fucking the life out of each other with your hands. You’re sucking and nipping at his ear, and every single moan he draws out of you ends up turning against him, breaking into the defenses he built year after year by your side. He’s simply fucking into your hand now. He can’t help it, you feel so good. He doesn’t even want to think about what it’s going to feel like to fuck into your tight little cunt, he might cum hard just from the thought of it.

The spongy spot he finds inside you feels like he just struck gold. It’s glorious, the sounds you make right now, higher, louder. You’re tightening around his fingers, but it’s okay—you can crush them for all he cares. He wants you to moan higher for him, wants you to keep riding his fingers like your life depends on it.

“Izuku, ah—I’m close, I’m so close, please…”

“I got you, baby. I got you, shit—”

He quickens the pace again, feels like his fingers are gonna fall off his hand the moment he gets them out of you, but fuck, what his princess wants, his princess is gonna get. Your orgasms shatter the both of you to pieces, and in the bliss of his high, he can hear some birds flying away, scared by the harmonious, but probably very loud, song of your combined moans.

While his cum strikes out by ropes into the water, his clouded mind can only think about one thing.

He needs more of you.

You can barely stand on your knees, worn out from cumming the hardest you have in your entire life. You actually have to lean on Izuku so you don’t fall into the water head first like some boneless ragdoll. You just let your forehead rest on his shoulder and count the freckles there, splattered in a fascinating work of abstraction.

But apparently, he has other plans. You’re swiftly lifted up and out of the water, huge scarred hands firmly holding the back of your thighs that immediately come to circle his waist.

“Oh, nice. I don’t mind getting carried around like a baby. Where are we going?”

“Not far,” he says with a little grin, walking out of the water. “Do you think you’ll be able to walk?” His voice holds a sarcastic tone, one you’re not used to hearing out of Izuku’s angel mouth.

“I think I can manage, yeah.”

He drops you to stand on your legs, and immediately goes for his backpack. The sun has just set, its last rays of light filling the pink sky over your heads. You can still easily make out everything around you, and Izuku’s body is no exception.

You’re watching him with a raised eyebrow, letting your shameless gaze follow every curve you couldn’t see underwater. The day he started exercising in high school was the day you knew it was over for you. It was the day you couldn’t deny what you felt anymore, you couldn’t deny your best friend was everything you needed, and everything you wished for. The physical factor was only a—very pleasant— addition to the list of things that made you fall hard for Izuku Midoriya.

Your eyes linger over his impressive figure, staring at the dimples at the small of his back. You always knew they were here, but you never allowed yourself to look at them, to imagine how they would grow repeatedly hollow with every thrust of his hips into you.

He finally digs out what he was looking for: a plaid picnic blanket, because of course he would have one in there. He’s wearing a little victorious smile when he stands and turns around to spread it on a grassy spot that looks a lot more comfortable than the hard ground. He turns back to you but averts his gaze to the side, hardly looking directly at you for more than a second at a time. The heat of his gaze tracing your curves through quick glances pools deep in your core. 

“You know you can look, right?” You sure aren’t refraining from doing so after all.

His face reaches its usual redness—hasn’t he learned anything from making you cum like crazy with just his fingers? It’s cute nonetheless; Izuku will never change.

He doesn’t answer your rhetorical question, only gives you a shy command in that tentative, very cute voice of his.

“Could you lay down on this for me?”

You saw this coming, but still, you’re a bit surprised he’s asking you that out loud. You gladly oblige with your legs pressed together, slightly bent. It’s another golden opportunity to tease him a bit:. “This isn’t exactly the right use for this blanket. Aren’t we supposed to eat on this?”

He smiles at the ground while kneeling at your feet.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.”

Your sly smile fades away. His tone is a contradictory mix of shyness and determination, so it’s a bit confusing but also unbearably hot—you swear an astounding wave of heat is crashing through your deepest parts, untouched, just from some words and a funny tone. You rub your thighs together before he grabs and parts them to slip himself between them.

He crawls over you and leans down to kiss you, a bit more confident than earlier. His hips are pressing between your legs, where you can feel his hardness best.

He’s rutting more and more against you as the kiss intensifies. You could think it’d be a lot less exciting now that you know he’s going to eat you out, there’d be no suspense. Wrong. The little shit apparently likes to tease you to death, because he left your lips to kiss your face, nip at your neck, suck at your ears. Dragging his devilish hands everywhere, pressing harder each time you get louder. An especially heavy whine makes him buck hard, his mouth back against yours.

“The more impatient you get, the slower it’s gonna be,” he murmurs against your lips, and starts to make his way down to where you want him, kissing every inch of you, clouding your mind with desire. It’s way too much and still not enough; it’s maddening. When he finally reaches down, you’re on the verge of a second orgasm like you hadn’t just come down a few minutes ago.

He’s holding your thighs apart in a firm grip. Just the touch of his fingers burns your skin deliciously, and the look he’s giving you from between your legs...his eyes are clouded, half-lidded, looking at the part of you he’s never gotten to see before. It feels like he’s been looking forever and just a second at the same time.

He finally dips into you, leaving butterfly kisses all over your inner thighs, punctuated by little nips, nuzzling the soft skin. He’s not looking you in the eye anymore, his gaze lingering all over your body—all over except for your face. You can make out a slight blush on his cheeks despite the dimness all around. You know him better than anyone, so you immediately recognize what’s going on in his mind just from the slightest hint in his eyes. He looks like he’s fighting a battle against himself, his shyness against his hunger. And you know who you’re both rooting for.

He finally gives in, and it takes your breath away. A single, slight lick on your clit and you’re gone. And the next ones, more and more intense, more and more hungry, push you further to tumble over your edge. He grunts into your heat, multiple times. Moans like he’s the one squirming under your mouth.

His hands hold a firm grip on your hips, squeezing the flesh and keeping you in place—he doesn’t even give you an inch to move. You can only take and take and take. But you still have the luxury of your free hands, and they rush to bury in the knots of his messy wet curls, your nails dragging, scratching his scalp.

His lips close on your clit and suck just a bit, and before you can refrain, you pull on his hair, hard. He gasps, and the moment you think you hurt him, he breathes his loudest moan, right into you. You’re filled with the vibrations—they spread all over your body, have you throwing your head back, trembling from head to toe.

The louder you are, the hungrier he gets, filling you with his insatiable tongue. You have to look at him right now. And you expected quite a show, but you certainly weren't prepared to see this—him rutting against the ground like an animal. You realize he’s getting off just from your taste, just from eating you out. His hips roll repeatedly, making you salivate just to the thought of those same hips bucking into yours, fucking you into oblivion. And the more he ruts, the louder he gets.

Now if he wants to moan, you’re going to give him a good reason to. 

You hint for him to face you with a light tug on his hair. As soon as he’s back up, he dives in to kiss you. You don’t let him. In a second he’s on his back with you seated on his hips.

“What did I say about letting you play on your own, hm?”

The ‘deer caught in headlights’ look is so cute on him. And the rest is a marvel to look at. You’re straddling him and he has no other choice than to let you devour him with your eyes—not that he couldn’t bounce you off of him with just a thrust of his hips, but he already would have if he wanted to. You let your gaze wander mindlessly over him—it’s surreal. There’s no way he’s actually under you, waiting for you to please him back with his mouth and jaw still shining with your juices. It has to be a dream—it’s always been after all.

You shift so you’re straddling his parted thighs. You can finally take a look at him. The whole thing, that is. His cock is resting against his lower stomach, hard and swollen and thick. It’s a pretty, bright pink, shining with pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters just at the sight of it.

He’s looking down at you, his face as flushed as his dick, that usual blush still exquisitely coating his freckles. You take him in your hand, dive in to give a lick to the tip and his head falls back down with a whimper. You let your tongue drag over the whole length on the underside, and your lips close around the tip in a wet smooch. His hips jerk up a bit, startling you.

You finally take him whole in your mouth, and you can feel his whole body tensing under you. You start bobbing up and down, going a bit further each time, earning a series of shameless moans because this boy is loud. You expected him to express himself during sex since he’s such a mumbler—and frankly, it was always one of your biggest fantasies, hearing him come undone because of you, lose any sense of shame and self-restriction when he’s such a anxious person otherwise.

But you could’ve thought about it every night and day and still never be ready for this. It’s sinful. His hand goes to grab your hair just like you did to him, and now you get why he liked it so much. The feel of his nails scratching your scalp is electrifying, soothing and destructive at the same time.

Your tongue hits a precise spot just under the tip and he jerks up again, nearly screams, “Fuck—yes, right there, please—d-do that again!”

And you do, you can only oblige—he asked so nicely. Your lips go up and down, over and over, your tongue grazing this spot with a bit more pressure every single time. You squint over him, and what you find there is a mess. Trying so hard not to buck into your mouth but failing miserably. Sounding like he’s at Heaven’s gate.

“Easy, Zuku. You’re gonna scare the birds away,” you chuckle against him, your lips brushing the tip, dripping with your saliva and pre-cum.

“Do I need to remind you…how loud you were for me earlier?” He’s looking back down at you as he speaks, a tremble in his voice telltale of his approaching climax. “You sounded...so good, baby, I swear...wanna hear you again, wanna make you scream, just for me, fuck—”

You can feel yourself soaking the blanket, can feel the slick trickle down your folds and stain the plaid cotton. Is he aware of what he’s doing? Or is he just saying whatever is going through his chaotic mind? In any case it has you starving. So you let go of his cock and, before he can protest, crawl back to his face and kiss him desperately. Tasting both of your fluids in a mindblowing mix.

You pull back just enough to be able to speak, because you need him to understand you loud and clear when you say:  “Please, Izuku, I need you inside me, I’ve waited so long. Please.”

“Okay, okay, fuck—” He cuts himself off, his eyes slightly drooping like a sad puppy. “I-I don’t have any condoms.”

“You mean you probably have pads in there for me but no condoms?” you say with your eyebrows raised, your mocking tone hinting at a teasing remark, far from criticism.

He frowns in confusion. “How do you know I have pads in there?”

“So the legend turns out to be true. After all these years—”

“Shut up, you’re impossible,” he chuckles heatlessly, resting his hands on your back.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you assure him with a soft tone.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m on the pill, yeah.”

He rolls his eyes, then clarifies, a hint of hesitation clear in his voice.

“No I mean...you’re sure you wanna do this?” He marks a brief pause, takes a short breath. “With me?”

You don’t even think before answering, it slips your mouth like it’s not even your own words: “I don’t want it with anyone else.”

There’s a silence.

“Fuck, that sounds cheesy,” you scoff, looking away.

“It does, but we’re both cheesy idiots, apparently.”

You look back at him. His smile is so fond, so loving; it melts your heart in the best way.

“I wanna be your cheesy idiot,” you say against his mouth, looking right into his eyes, willing to fall in them.

“You always have been,” he nearly whispers. It fills your stomach with familiar warmth, intense and overwhelming, comforting.

There’s a bittersweet taste in your mouth, one of regret and lost time and God, we’re idiots.

Now it’s about time you make up for it all.

You look down at him, rolling your hips against him, dripping all over his cock, coating him in your juices.

“I think I asked you something, didn’t I?”

A whimper escapes him at the feeling. His hips buck up slightly, hands gripping at your back. When you do it again, you don’t get the chance to see his reaction; you’re on your back again, him towering over you, his thigh between your legs.

He’s looking at you with something in his eyes you don’t recognize, but the tone he speaks with has your entire body quaking.

“And you’re gonna get it, sweetheart.”

He holds himself over his left forearm, his hand thumbing at your cheek while the other strokes the whole length of your thigh. Your noses are brushing, your breaths crashing together. Your hands hold tight to his nape, playing with the short hair mindlessly as you’re waiting to be filled, finally.

You feel the stretch instantly. You try to focus on those mesmerizing emerald gems he calls eyes. They look right through your soul, eating you up and you barely feel the pain. He’s taking it slow, inch by inch, giving you all the time you need, caressing your cheek with a tender stroke of his thumb.

“Relax for me, baby.”

Izuku’s voice is a soothing sound over the incessant chirping of the grasshoppers. It was always one of your favorite things to hear, its every tone another blessing to your ears. It’s loving when he asks if you’re okay, comforting when he whispers sweet nothings to you as you cry on his shoulder, heartening when he’s going on about anything he’s passionate about.

He’s kissing every part of skin he has access to, over your face, your jaw, your neck. You feel yourself relaxing around him, and roll your hips up to give him the hint.

When he starts moving it’s still slow and careful. He doesn’t break eye contact, so you can see his every reaction, and he can see all yours. His hand is still playing with your hair, even as his pace speeds up with every second. The weight of him over you feels amazing, it holds him close against you, countless parts of you both rubbing together: your chests, your stomachs, your thighs. He doesn’t even have a lot of space to move. But getting to touch and get touched by him like this, it's incredible. You always had him so close to you, always right there and still so out of reach.

You still need more; you’re insatiable. You need to see him come undone under you, because of you. You push him to roll on his back, and you end up straddling him, setting the pace yourself. You start bouncing up and down on his cock, taking balance on the hard planes of his abs. He immediately reaches up to grab your hips, guiding you along.

His face tenses up, frowning, his nose wrinkling, his lips parted just to let out a series of breathy sighs. He looks wrecked and dizzy and stunning. He’s keeping his eyes open, fixed up on you, specifically on your breasts, bouncing with your every motion. And you can feel his gaze on your skin just as much as you feel his hands gripping harder at the flesh below your hips.

“Eyes up here, Zuku,” you coo with two fingers pointed at your eyes.

He doesn’t answer, only sits up easily and wraps his arms around your waist.

“You look so amazing, you have no idea what you do to me,” he says with a trembling voice, filled with bliss.

Your heart misses a beat at his words, they fill you with warmth and comfort because he definitely doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing to you. He delves his face into your neck, kissing and nuzzling, his breath coming shorter and shorter, crashing against your skin and his hands running all over you. The sound of his hoarse voice resonates through the forest and through your soul, echoing an enchanting song.

With little effort, he puts you back under him so he can pound into you with full force, and your legs immediately come up to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your hands grab his hair, tugging to see if you get the same reaction as earlier, and it doesn’t miss: he lets out a groan right into your ear, speeding up his pace again.

The sky is dark now, and all you can hear are his moans and yours and the slap of your hips coming together repeatedly. Your head is thrown back when he grabs you by the hair, forcing you to turn your head and face him.

“Look at me. I wanna see you.”

“Izuku, I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby. Let go for me, come on.”

Just the feel of his hand trailing down your stomach awakens something in you, this familiar pressure growing tight in your belly. And when his fingers reach your clit, a couple of strokes are enough to have you screaming his name, tightening around him, and pulling him towards his climax with you. His thrusts come franticly as you milk him dry, clawing desperately at his back, panting in his mouth as he leaned down to kiss you through both your climaxes.

As soon as he comes down, he rolls over on his side, still laying close to you, an arm thrown over you. You both take a minute to catch your breaths and, weirdly enough, you don’t hear anything aside from your panting. You really must have scared the birds away. Izuku breaks the silence first.

“Do you wanna...sleep at my place?”

He’s looking over at you and, despite the sky getting dark, you can easily imagine the blush coating his cheeks right now, like he didn’t make you scream his name, drunk on his cock two minutes ago.

You can’t repress your fond smile at his proposition.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

You take a minute to gather your clothes from all over the place and get dressed, then grab your bag to tug it over your shoulder.

“You got everything?”

Izuku is waiting for you just outside the trees. You take a quick look around, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything, and turn around without a second look at the place.

Because although it was your first time setting foot here, it definitely won’t be the last; you will come back here with Izuku every chance you get, making it your shared secret, your own little wonderland.

You gladly take the hand he’s offering, making him blush a little harder, and you head straight back into the forest together.

You walk side by side as a comfortable silence settles, only disturbed by the grasshoppers’ incessant, boisterous chirping. The sky is utterly dark now, you can make out a few stars shining above the dense trees. You walk at a steady pace, but Izuku is going a bit faster with every step. Soon enough, he’s walking a bit ahead of you, still holding your hand. Another golden occasion to tease his eagerness.

“Are we in a hurry, Zuku?”

In the dark of the night, you struggle to make out the look on his face as he turns around to look at you. A second later, he’s running, and with your hand firmly held in his, you can’t do much but try to follow along. You giggle as you run, and it quickly grows into a belly-deep laughter. He’s fast, doesn’t get tired, but you follow him anyway, probably as eager as he is. You have to zig-zag so you don’t run straight into the massive trees standing in your way.

You get to the car in no time, but you’re both out of breath when you finally get in your respective seats, ready to go home.

Izuku doesn’t even wait to catch his breath before he starts the car, the engine roaring loudly in the silence of the night, probably scaring the birds away for the upteenth time that night. You catch his happy grin in the headlights glow before he heads back into the road.

You have a feeling the night is not over; you’ve only got twenty years to make up for after all.

“Yeah, the current’s dead,” you announce in a toneless voice, facing the electrical board that forfeited a couple of minutes ago. You pout in resignation and make your way back to the bedroom.

The deafening noise of thunder and the whistling of the wind disturb the usual calm of the apartment you share with Izuku, now fully plunged into darkness. The gentle light of the few candles your boyfriend just lit dance on the walls of your bedroom. When you join him there, he is kneeling on the bed and sets the last one down on the nightstand.

Today has been a scorching day of August, and the raging storm outside offers some welcome fresh air. Both windows at each side of the bed are open with their wood shutters left ajar, the curtains fluttering lightly with the wind. The pitter-patter of the rain echoes against the concrete and through the room in a soothing white noise, the comforting smell of petrichor filling the air in the dark of the night. While Mother Nature’s wrath strikes upon the city, you can’t help but revel in the idea of Izuku’s snug arms around you; they are the safest place on Earth.

“Wanna watch a movie? My laptop’s almost dead but we could make it work,” you offer, already looking at your screen.

Still kneeling on the bed, Izuku is watching you from side-on, his back to the headboard, as you lean down on the desk and shoot your laptop a betrayed look. His gaze weighs heavy on you. You don’t miss the way it traces the hem of your silken night shorts wrapping your hips like second skin and riding up with every subconscious move of your legs. A lock of hair keeps falling off your ear while you go through your Netflix homepage. Once you’ve finally made your choice, you turn the screen to him:

“I don’t remember ever seeing this one. It doesn’t seem so bad and it is quite short. Maybe we could finish it before my battery dies.”

When you turn your attention to him, the enthralled look on his face tells you he probably didn’t catch your movie proposition. He’s only wearing a plain shirt and black boxers, and the candlelight frames the wild outline of his curls. He’s sporting this look you only know too well. His huge, bright eyes are filled with warmth as they take you in, his parted lips a telltale hint of what’s going on in his mind.

“Come here,” he breathes, his quiet voice barely audible over the steady patter of the rain. But you hear him just fine, and the softness of his voice, gentle but commanding, sends a shiver down your spine. You can only comply, and you do without discussion. You inch towards him and reach the footboard, your eyes deeply anchored in the emerald gleam of his own.

When you set a knee on the mattress, he takes your hand and guides you to sit on his lap. You never break eye contact while doing so, and he has to tilt his head up a bit so he can face you properly. The candlelight draws a mesmerizing pattern on his freckled face. You can read a thousand things in his gaze and, although most of them are lust related, you can also find the boundless love he feels for you.

Your hands travel up his chest, his shoulders, and end up framing his face. You rearrange yourself on his lap, which leads you to climb farther up his hips. His left hand loops around your waist while the other sinks into your hair at the back of your head to gently bring your face down.

His lips find yours in no time. He kisses you slow and deep. His mouth feels soft on yours, reassuring and intoxicating all at once, a paradox you’ve got used to after years with Izuku. There’s more heat to it with each passing second. You bask in the feeling of Izuku claiming your mouth like his own territory. Hugging your soul with every caress of his tongue, singing your praises with every moan filling your joined mouths.

His lips slide on yours with precision, every single motion resolutely controlled with the avowed goal to drive you mad with desire. And it seems to work well enough. You can’t help but chase the feeling again when he breaks the kiss. But when you lean over him again, he doesn’t give in just yet, drawing his head back a little every time you try to reach down. Your noses brush, his playful gaze locked on yours, in which he can probably read your eagerness like an open book. His warm breath crushes on your lips, his big eyes sparking with challenge.

The irritated whine you let out elicits a mild grin from him and he finally gives in. When your mouths collide again, you moan softly—a brief, quiet sound he loves because it tells him all he has to know; he knows you that well. Although you’re just kissing for now, the hint of a familiar heat has settled between your legs. You already feel your slick soaking your underwear. But you won’t cede that easily. You restrain from grinding onto his growing bulge, yet you can feel it beg for your attention.

He probably knows you’re gonna need a bit more than that to give in. His left hand creeps up beneath your shirt, while the other still rests in your hair, tilting your head in a perfect angle so he can take over your mouth with ease. His hand rests on your waist, his thumb gently grazing your side. It’s enough to get you boiling with impatience, but not to satisfy your urges, and he knows it. You moan a little louder in his mouth when his thumb traces the underside of your breast, which he knows to be one of your weak spots. Now you just can’t help it, you’re barely even conscious of the subtle roll of your hips against his growing erection.

“Izuku…” you plead, your whiny voice muffled against his smug grin.

His hand snakes farther up and cups your entire breast, thumbing your nipple and squeezing lightly. You can feel in the strength of his hand that he’s running out of patience. He’s pulling away all of a sudden and before you know it, he peels you out of your shirt and tosses it without a second look.

You’re defenseless now. He delves into your chest and takes a hardened nipple in his mouth. His tongue rolls over the sensitive bud, his lips sliding with ease as saliva coats more and more of your skin. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips and the sound of his raw groan radiates through your entire body. When his right hand grabs your neglected breast, you toss your head back. The heat igniting your core turns into pain, driving you more and more eager with each second.

“Izuku, please—” Your voice is drawling, desperate.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He sounds calm, contained, even muffled against your skin. It’s almost unfair. You manage to convince yourself it’s only in appearance.

“P-Please, touch me…”

“Isn’t that what I’m already doing?” He chuckles, and the loud, drawn-out whine you let out makes it clear he shouldn’t keep you waiting any longer.

His right hand leaves your breast and traces all the way down to your shorts with a featherlight touch of his fingertips. He leaves a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses up your neck. You hold onto his soft, wild curls like a lifeline, drawing your head further back to offer more access.

He tucks a knuckle into the elastic of your underwear, tugs a bit and lets it slap against your skin, the air cooling your soaked folds under the thin layers of cloth. His finger trails down over your shorts, from the waistband to the stain darkening the fabric, making sure to slow down a little over your clit. Electricity shoots through your entire core. When his finger hooks in the crotch and immediately coats in your slick, a dark moan escapes his pink lips, the sound reverberating against your throat like a delicious quake.

“God, already so wet for me.” You moan again, his finger getting bolder between your folds without actually entering you.

He grips your hips with bruising force and in a flash, you find yourself laying on your back, the powerful shape of him an intimidating shadow over you in the dimming candlelight. He practically tears his shirt off before leaning down to kiss you again. Arousal strikes low in your belly when his naked chest brushes against your swollen mounds. Your shorts and panties soon join your forgotten shirt in some corner of your room. The fresh air of the night sends some chills down your spine, but Izuku doesn’t give you the chance to get cold.

The soft brush of his hair leaves shivers in its wake as he kisses his way down your body. Inhaling deeply in the crook of your neck, lingering there a bit to properly take your smell in. Licking the length of your collarbones. Nipping at your chest, gently at first, then more boldly. Soothing the swollen skin with a graze of his lips just after, like he’s scared he might have hurt you. Nuzzling and lapping your stomach like an affectionate, fluffy kitten. Then he stills, just above where you want him. He always does that; sometimes it’s just for a split second, sometimes he stays there for a short while, his eyes fixed on your most intimate parts. You still feel a bit self-conscious when it happens.

He shoots you a last glance before diving face first into the wet heat of your core. Your breath hitches instantly at the contact of his tongue spreading your folds, collecting your slick, and your hand reaches out to bury in the soft, tangled mess of his hair. You don’t bother to hide your reactions; you know he delights in every single one of them. You moan loudly when he laps with the flat of his tongue, sigh when he teases you too much, and gasp when he closes his lips on your clit and sucks. The sound of the storm is still roaring, making you feel like it’s raining inside, and still it hardly covers your voice.

He eats you out like you’re his last meal, with blatant hunger. The motions of his lips and tongue are masterful, flawless from his years of experience with your body. In your addled haze, you recall the first time he went down on you, his face flushed with heat up to the tip of his ears, attentive to every direction you gave him. So eager to learn the entire map of your body and which buttons to push. The man bent between your legs doesn’t feel like the same person. He knows you better than anyone else, inside and out, every single one of your weak spots and how to use them to his advantage. If Izuku proves anything, it’s that practice makes perfect.

When his tongue enters you, the mesmerizing green of his eyes locks onto yours and you catch a glint of pride in them. He looks like he’s having the time of his life watching you crumble under him. Although you would be okay with lying there and doing nothing but enjoy his sweet attentions, you figure you can’t just let him play this little game by himself. You tighten the grip of your right hand already buried in his hair, and force him up to face you again. He complies with a startled look in his wide eyes, a radiant shimmer painting his mouth, chin, and the freckles on the tip of his nose.

You bring him down to your lips with open avidity. You’ll never get over the taste of you in his mouth; it’s indescribable, each and every single time. You both moan in each other’s mouth, and he holds himself on top of you with his elbows on each side of your head so he doesn’t crush you. You wouldn’t mind though—you can’t think of a better way to die.

For the first time that night, you have him at your mercy. Without parting your mouths, you sneak a hand between your bodies and let it brush against his chest, his abs and all the way down to his underwear. His skin feels soft despite the multiple scars striping his body, and you certainly don’t miss the wave of goosebumps traveling down his torso.

Your fingers head lower and trace down his length over the fabric of his boxers, from tip to base in an agonizingly slow caress. He breaks the kiss instantly in a delightful noise. You can feel all of him tense on top of you, all his muscles growing taut in what has to be the sexiest picture you’ve ever seen. His jaw stiffens as he grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut in a struggle to control himself, so you repeat your actions. So strange to see his freckled nose wrinkle in pleasure. Strange for him to look that cute with his dick in the palm of your hand.

You wiggle down a bit so you can pull his underwear down and it falls down to his knees. You don’t waste any more time. You seize his cock and stroke up and down, with this little twist of your wrist that you know drives him crazy. It’s slick with pre-cum already, so your hand slides smoothly on his reddened, sensitive skin. Now he can’t help but thrust a little in your hand, his hips rolling with a mind of their own. He lets out a soft, drawn-out moan that strikes right through your core. At that, you close your eyes for just a second and, when you open them again, his gaze on you is so dark you can hardly make out the dazzling green you love so much around his pupils.

In a heartbeat, his boxers are thrown out of the way and a huge scarred hand closes around yours on his cock, covering it entirely. Before you know it, he has both of your hands pinned on each side of your head in an iron grip you can’t escape. Despite his mild roughness, he gives a soft graze of his thumbs against the thin skin of your wrists, an affectionate gesture that is so like him.

“You just can’t keep your hands to yourself, can you sweetheart?” His voice is low, husky. His eyes pierce directly through yours with blazing intensity, and the little smirk that’s stretching his beautiful cheeks right now suggests you’ve awoken something in him. You don’t answer, paralyzed by both his grip on your wrists and his intimidating gaze. You can only look back at him and wait for him to give you what you both want.

He never breaks eye contact as he lets his cock slide through your folds and get covered in your juices. He waits for your approval and when you give him a reassuring smile, he buries his face into your neck and enters you slowly. His soft curls brush over your jaw as he stretches you full, inch by glorious inch. When he finally bottoms out, he breathes a sigh that crushes against the sensitive skin at the crook of your shoulder. He stays there unmoving for a minute, waiting for you to get used to the intrusion.

You let your fingers crawl through his hair mindlessly. Against your face, you catch a glimpse of a cold, white shine of the moonlight on the deep green of his curls that makes them look as black as the sky, and a sudden gust of wind ruffles them messier than they already are. The smell of the rain hits your nose with a whiff of pine, and you can’t help burying your nose deeper in his hair. The scent alone takes you to cloud nine. Then he finally begins to move.

“God…baby, you always feel so good—” he breathes in your ear, and a shiver runs through your entire body. He stretches your tight walls just right.

He sets a steady rhythm at first, a tantalizingly slow one. It’s not the physical, raw sensation of pleasure that makes you throw you head back and gasp for air—not yet. It’s the way his hips roll deliciously against yours, the motion so tender and sensual at once. He’s taking his time, even buried so deep in you. You buck up over and over to meet his every thrust and soon, the burning feeling of pleasure washes over you like a warm, gentle wave.

You let out a particularly long, resounding moan that makes him lift his head to soak your reactions up. And he must like what he sees, given the sudden quickening of his pace, growing more erratic, less controlled. His hands leave yours and he slides one down your arm, your breast, your side before rolling around your waist, keeping you in place while he fucks into you with tremendous strength.

As soon as they’re free, you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips. You’re now reduced to a moaning mess, clawing at his broad shoulders and leaving marks all over while he fucks you good and fast. He’s looking down at you, his gaze filled with lust, his cheeks flushed with heat, and suddenly you can’t look him in the eye. You squeeze your eyes shut and chant his name on repeat like a prayer in a shaky voice, because you feel like it’s all you’re capable of right now.

And then he slows down, slows down, until he stops. You look up at him with wide eyes, taken aback. He withdraws, leaving you with an unpleasant feeling of emptiness. The look on his face shifts, and now he’s giving you this sly, condescending look that makes you weak.

“Get on your knees, babe.”

You stay there dumbstruck for a second under his fond, but bossy gaze, though you don’t need to be told twice. You obey and get on your knees, your back turned to him, settling with a firm grip on the headboard.  You’ve been here before; you’re gonna need to hold onto it if you don’t want to delve face first into the wall. Izuku would never let you get hurt, but sometimes the strength of his hips can be a bit overwhelming, especially in this position.

You can feel his toned chest settle against your back, and his left hand reaches out to join yours on the headboard, while his right arm wraps back around your waist. When he enters you again, his warm breath gently brushes on your ear as his low, husky voice whispers:

“Such a good girl, you’d just do anything for me, right?”

In any other person’s mouth, this could be interpreted as some classic, plain dirty talk. But Izuku—he sounds like he’s actually proud of you. Like he’s beyond grateful for having you in his life, for you giving him your entire mind, body and soul. Like he genuinely feels he’s the luckiest man on Earth.

“Yes, Izuku…” You can barely recognize your own voice, your senses clouded with desire.

Satisfied with your answer, he goes back to a steady pace. The angle is different, hits new spots, and the feeling of Izuku’s body against your back is intoxicating. The astounding strength of his hips throws you forward with every thrust and you have to hold yourself against the wall with your forearms.

“Ah yes, just like that, baby—please don’t stop!” you babble over the deafening roar of thunder, rain and the headboard hitting the wall repeatedly.

“F-Fuck, always so good for me, I love you so much—” You’d respond in kind if your brain was capable of forming a coherent sentence, but instead, you reach back and grab a handful of his hair to attract him in a fiery kiss. The position isn’t the most comfortable, but all you care about right now is showing Izuku just how much you love him. He returns the sentiment, moaning directly in your mouth, the sound rushing through your entire body to settle between your legs.

The candles have long gone out, but you barely notice; all your clouded mind can grasp right now is Izuku’s hips slapping against your ass. Izuku’s chest rubbing against your shoulder blades, Izuku’s little gasps crushing on your lips when he grows too breathless to kiss you properly. Izuku’s fat cock coming in and out of you with devastating strength.

You’re now tip-toeing on the edge of your release, and he must feel it around him. Never breaking eye contact, he lets go of your waist and brings his index finger to his mouth and sucks. You can’t take your eyes off the trail of saliva linking his lips to his finger above your shoulder, and breaking as he reaches down. His now wet finger draws a circling pattern on your clit and you finally fall apart with an incoherent chanting of his name, your voice a continuous resonance over the storm. All your muscles tense under and around him, and you pull him over the edge with you.

You both ride out the crushing wave of heat washing over you with long, desperate motions. You can feel his breathless sighs crush on your nape and his come fill you up inside before he withdraws with a hiss and you both crash on the bed side by side. You just lay there, exhausted, sticky, savoring the feeling of him spooning you with an arm around your waist. Nuzzling into your hair, he hums in content as your legs tangle together on the thin, crumpled sheets.

His hand finds yours on your side and they mesh together mindlessly, just craving contact as if Izuku’s whole body pressing against yours wasn’t enough.