NEVER!!

NEVER!!

my sweet boy they could never make me hate you

tummy kisses and izuku please!! thank you in advance <33

⋆ ♡̷ .ﾟtummy kisses

⋆ ♡̷ .ﾟ prompt list <3

izuku gently caresses your waist with his thumb as he rests his head on your belly; he looks at the world outside through the window, watching the sun go down, the birds returning to their nests, admiring the shapes of the clouds.. everything is so beautiful, but nothing compares to the beauty he sees in you.

he smiles at the thought and rests his chin on your belly, adoringly looking at every detail of your face, and when his gaze meets yours, you smile shyly. he always has a sweet and mesmerizing effect on you; no matter how long you've been together.

he smiles and you runs his hand through his hair, brushing a curl that was falling on his forehead, which makes him smile even more. your hand slides up to his cheek and strokes it lightly with your thumb, he closes his eyes and leans into your hand. he kisses your wrist and opens his eyes again when you take your hand away from his face.

he loves it when you touch him, but he hates it when you stop. he loves receiving your affection and doesn't want to be without it even for a second of his day. so if you won't give him affection, he will give it to you.

he feels you shiver as he brings his mouth to your belly, his hot breath sending hot feelings and shivers down your spine. he smiles against your skin. he holds your waist tightly before spreading soft, sweet kisses down your belly.

he smiles between kisses before starting to drop kisses in a straight line, heading towards your chest. he kisses the space between your breasts, your neck, your chin and finally your lips.

there is no part of your body that izuku has not kissed or adored, there is no part of you that he is not completely in love with.

where’s that purring coming from

PLEASE WAIT HOCKEY MIDORIYA WHO ABSOLUTELY WRECKED YOU AND FEELS SO BAD HE LICKS UP AND KISSES EVERYTHING HE’S JUST RUINED FOR ANYONE ELSE AND NOT SO ACCODENTALLY OVER STIMULATE YOU BECAUSE ITS NOT HIS FAULT YOU SOUND SO PRETTY WHINING FOR HIM-

STOP :( hockey au midoriya just trying to clean you up after basically ruining you for hours— you’re sore and a mess and it mostly starts with a way for him to clean his sticky cum from between your thighs…. but then you taste so good, the flavour of your arousal meshing with his he can’t help but groan and nuzzle deeper into your swollen cunt, lapping at your left over juices from between your folds.

it’s not until you start hiccuping and grabbing at deku’s sweaty hair to pull him away that he realises you’re way too sensitive, gasping for breath and whimpering out for him— it does nothing to calm the growing erection between him and the mattress.

“i-izuku, p-please!”

“yeah baby?”

“i think… i think i’m good now, you don’t have to eat me out again,”

please, the look he gives you after he finishes suckling on your clit— green eyes wide and desperate, chin shining with your nectar, it almost kills you. izuku looks like a kicked puppy. “no more?” he asks and you shake your head , but he doesn’t listen. oh no, he worked his ass off to win that game today and if he’s gonna eat you out as his reward; then he god damn will.

literally dusa my brain has been rewired 🥴🥴 inching along the floor like a worm 🥴 thinking about roommate!kirishima 🥴🥴

willow 🥺 he is seriously the best roommate 🥺

he’s just so friendly and thoughtful! from the moment you move in, it’s like he’s been your best friend for ages. he has that thing about him y’know — he’s magnetic, he’s charming, he’s warm, he feels like home !! so maybe he’s a little messy, and he’s definitely not the handiest guy you’ve ever met (the one time he tried to fix the leaky faucet himself water went spraying all over the bathroom within minutes) but he makes up for it by always knowing how to bring your mood up

…aaand the unlimited eye candy. he’s big — big in that way that like football linemen are, like it was decided by the fates themselves that he would be a unit. big, and mouth-wateringly muscular… seriously, it’s like he doesn’t own a single pair of shorts that falls below his knees, and good god his thighs are so thick you wonder how the fabric has held on this long. sometimes you come out of your room and he’s right there in the doorway across from yours doing pull-ups on one of those bars that hook onto the frame — muscles taut from his shoulders all the way to his forearms, bulging out as he works, the hem of his shirt riding up so you get a peek at that deliciously dark hair on his lower stomach. or you come home from work and he’s shirtless, tan skin glistening with the evidence of his run, stretching out right there on the living room floor, rigid back muscles on full display for you — before he’s looking over his shoulder and flashing you that big, boyish grin. maybe you should feel bad for appreciating the view the way you do, but he clearly works so hard on his body, how could you not look!!

and on top of everything, he’s considerate 🥺 for as long as you’ve been living together, he’s never brought a girl home! and when you told him you didn’t mind he just smiled and said that he wouldn’t want to make things awkward, or bother you when you have to get up early for work. he’s just sweet like that !! so sweet — like how he always picks up your favorite cereal when he makes a quick grocery run, or how he joins you on the couch almost every night, enduring your movie picks and reality tv marathons. and how he always makes sure to include you! inviting you out to the bars with all his friends, letting you drunkenly hold his hand (you can get pretty physically affectionate after a few drinks) and giving you a piggy-back ride to the uber when your legs eventually fail you. and he always indulges you when you both get home, cuddling up with you on the couch so you can soak up all that man body heat, sometimes laying his head in your lap so you can play with his hair 🥺🥺

the perfect roommate, and a perfect gentleman, as he’s never made a pass at you.

well, actually, there was that one time he came home drunk and half-hugged, half-tackled you into the couch, then rested his head in your lap with his cheeks all rosy and mumbled something about giving him “just one chance” … but when you asked him what he meant, he just shook his head and said it was nothing… so it was probably nothing 😌

drunk minds speak sober thoughts

cw: mdni dubcon. drunk sex. reluctant but willing reader. praise. filth. honestly don’t even read this.

the only alternative to opening my docs when horny is doing half a backflip and landing on my neck

When you open the door, he’s standing there propped on his elbow. Feet barely crossed in front of each other as he makes an attempt at posing as desirably as possible, and looking like a complete drunken fool in the process.

You raise a curious eyebrow.

“Hi.”

“Midoriya?”

“Helloo!” He greets again, and it’s tailed by a giggle as he moves forward.

“What’s-“

His arms are heavy and all surrounding as he pulls you into a hug, you nearly stumble back from how much weight he’s putting on you. Barely able to hold himself up correctly, and already dipping his head into the crook of your neck - you shiver as your friend takes in a few good whiffs of you.

Midoriya groans quietly. “Y’smell so good.”

“You smell like a distillery.” You rub his back. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“Oh my god, s’much.” He giggles. And then he presses in more, kicking the door closed behind him. “Les’ have a sleepover. I’m so tired.”

He punctuates that by nearly laying all of his weight on you, giggling again when you grunt from the stress and try with all the strength you can muster to drag him to the bed.

You blow out a sigh as he bounces on your mattress from where you’ve all but thrown him, feet hanging precariously close to the floor as he stretches his arms and nuzzles into your blanket.

“How’d you even get up here like that?” You breathe.

“I took the elevator.”

You sigh again.

“If you’re gonna sleep in my bed, you can’t sleep in your regular clothes.” You turn your head to search through your drawers. “I don’t want my bed to smell like alcohol.”

Midoriya snorts behind you. “Okie.” And it’s followed by the sound of shuffling.

You’re quick as you grab the oversized college hoodie from your dresser, turning around - though hesitating a bit when you find him laid out in nothing but his underwear behind you, boxers fitting comfortably over his muscled thighs and chiseled stomach.

You try not to stare as you throw him the hoodie. “Put this on, whore. And fix yourself, don’t just sleep on top of the covers.”

“S’ bossy..” He pouts but he does it anyway.

Your feet patter around the room as you start to get ready for bed again, grabbing your phone from where you left it in the bathroom and plugging it up on your bedside table.

You're lifting a leg onto the bed while absently tying your hair up when Midoriya pulls at your lower thigh.

“Hm?”

“Can you…?” He starts drunkenly. “Do s’mthing for me.”

“Mhm?”

He looks at you for a while, drawing circles in your thighs.

“Sit on my face.”

You pause.

“You’re too drunk.”

Midoriya smiles giddily. “So? Y’expect me to ask you when I’m sober? You’re too hot.”

“You’re like barely conscious right now, Midoriya.”

He looks up at you a little woundedly. “Y’don’t want to?”

You wait a few long beats before answering a little honestly. “I mean… yeah but-“

You wobble a little as he starts to pull you in his direction, manhandled until you’re nearly hovering over his face. “W-wait. Midoriya, but you’re way too drunk! I don’t wanna-“

“Take advantage a’ me?” He slurs as he slides his head between your thighs, and you smell heavenly. “Been wan’in to do this like forever.”

He nuzzles his nose into your inner thigh as he reaches up to clumsily pull your panties to the side, breaths heated as you struggle in his grasp but his grip is unmoving.

“N-no wait!” You fumble. But even as you protest his hot tongue is already digging between your folds. “F-fuck…. Midoriya..!”

Vibrations send electric little waves up the rest of your torso as he moans contentedly underneath you. Sloppily dragging his tongue back and forth from your clit to the quivering little hole feeding him so well, momentarily taking a moment to dip his tongue in and all but dig you out as you inadvertently hump against his face.

His hands are steely as he keeps his hold on your hips, sliding them lovingly up your torso as he coaxes you to ride his face.

“Ah,” And the way you whine has him moaning out again. “We-… We shouldn’t be doing this…!”

Midoriya presses you more into his face as he defiantly nods in disagreement. He says something too. Maybe a cross between “mhm!” or “yes, we should.” But he’s not too keen on ripping himself away to sound any clearer.

You mewl when one of his hands slide up your shirt to fondle with your breasts, roughly squeezing in handfuls as he thumbs at your pert nipple.

You start to push at his head. “Izuku! Fuck, Izuku…” He chases your clit even as his head presses further into the mattress. “God…. your tongue…”

He grunts, removes the hand groping your breast to stop you from pushing his head away and instead card through his air.

“m’gonna cum…!” You whine. “Fuck m’gonna cum….”

Midoriya nods. “S’okay,” He sounds drunker than ever, cheeks red and eyes glazed over. “Go ‘head, baby. Y’ can cum.”

You gasp airily before letting out a moan that nearly has him cumming in his boxers, desperately humping into his face as you finally cum with a cry of his name, and he groans as he devours it all.

You’re whining from over stimulation when he’s finally getting his last few slurps in, kissing the inside of your thighs before finally letting you roll over and letting out a sigh of content. “God, thank you.” He breathes. “You’re so fucking good.”

You silently catch your breath.

You’re half dozing off when you feel your panties being pulled down your legs.

“N-no, wait. Midoriya, wait-“

He pouts as he pulls himself out of his boxers and god are you not prepped enough for that. “What happened to ’Izuku?’” And his pupils all but dilate as he presses your shirt up your chest. “Call me Izuku again, it was so cute?”

You halfheartedly push him away as he lines himself up with your entrance. “Come on, wait!” You whimper. “You’re gonna regret this in the morning…!”

“Why would I regret this in the morning? ‘ve been wan’ing to do this since I met- fuuckkk!”

You gasp. You can feel him in your guts and he hasn’t even gotten the whole thing in yet. You’re all but sobbing from the pressure as his eyes roll into the back of his head.

“s’tight!” He whines. “So fucking tight, princess. You’re milking me..!”

You dig your nails into his upper back as he lays his head in the crook of your neck and starts pistoning. He’s definitely rearranging your guts right now.

“s’too much, ‘zuku!” You mewl as he pants into your ear. “s’too deep! Fuck! You’re breaking me!”

“Mh yeah?” He lazes a few whiskey tinted kisses down your pulse point. “Ah- y’feel me in there? Feel me in your tummy?”

Midoriya lifts himself on one of his arms to press on your lower stomach and you all but convulse. “Look at how pretty this pussy is.” He lowers his hand till he’s rubbing attentive circles on your clit. “Takin’ me so well. Makin’ me feel so…ah… good!”

He’s lifting one of your legs and coaxing the other further when he lays his weight on you again, forcing his tongue in your mouth that still tastes like you.

“I’ve always wanted to do this.” He pulls back and admits. “Always wanted you to be mine. And now you’re-“ Midoriya grunts. “Bein’ such a good girl f’me.”

You’re gonna squirt at this point. “You’re really suckin’ me in, huh? You want my cum?”

You whine.

Midoriya brings back his hips to push in a firm dragging thrust. “Good girls get what they ask for, baby.” He kisses the underside of your jaw. “Y’want it? You want my cum?”

“Ye- fuck!” You cry. “Yes! Yes!”

Midoriya groans. “Yeah y’do. Good fucking girl.”

Your back arches as his hips piston back and forth steadily into your core, creaming all over his cock as the way you pulsate around him has him clenching his teeth - and fucking into you even as you clench around his hot cum.

He whines as his thrusts finally shallow, slowing till he’s pressing as deep as he can and grinding his hips against yours, so desperately that the bed catches the current and the mattress wavers as he needily grinds himself in as deeply as he can.

It’s enough to have you creaming around him a second time, more managed seizing as your insides clench around him in the throws of your third orgasm and he cums again with a broken moan.

You can finally catch your breath when you reach up for him, carding your fingers in his hair before jolting a bit in his grasp as he rolls the both of you over.

You sigh. “Jesus, Izuku-“

Snore!

He’s asleep.

where there's smoke, there's fire - izuku x reader

summary: it's hard to get out of a loving relationship.

cw: yandere, horror, home invasion, manipulative behavior, abusive relationship, reader's kinda sick in the head too, smut, fem!parts, noncon/dubcon, oral sex (fem!receiving), penetrative sex

a/n: idk every overpowered person needs a killswitch ig.

You awake from a nightmare.

It's the type that has you bolting straight up to a sitting position, head pounding, throat dry and heart thumping in your chest in a frenzy. You're not sure what the dream was about, just that you were out cold for an unspecified amount of time, and while a sense of malaise is still set deep in your bones, there's an even more substantial leaden feeling in your arms, as though parts of you are still waking up.

And something is wrong, something that isn't neatly contained within the realm of REM sleep. You can sense it, keenly. It is dark in your room, and when your eyes finally adjust, you’re shocked to realize that your home is filled top to bottom with a thick haze of smoke.

Gasping, you then cover your mouth, remembering everything fire safety has taught you. Yet somehow, something about the smoke is wrong. There's no alarm going off from your smoke detectors, and you had an inspection recently, so you know those work. The smoke seems... wrong: too thick and evenly spread to be coming from a fire whose heat isn't close enough to feel. When you crawl out of the bed carefully, kicking off satin sheets, and using your fingers to make your way through the dense veneer, you realize it's still cold in fact, cold enough that you are shivering.

Perhaps it is fear that keeps the fine hairs on the back of your neck on end.

Still trailing around your mattress you maneuver further, waving a hand through the smoke. Maybe if you can find your phone, left charging on your dresser for once and not thrown irresponsibly on the other side of your bed as you slept, you can figure out what’s going on and call for help.

Your heart is still pounding, a thump, thump, thump, that is relentless.

The smoke smells wrong.

You find your phone, and somehow manage to turn on your flashlight.

The smoke is...

purple.

Your eyes widen with realization and you start to turn quickly.

"Izuku-"

There's a flash of green that seems to leap out of the darkness before you can begin to scream, and a body collides with yours, with the sensation almost like being hit by a moving vehicle in terms of speed and power; it takes your breath away, and a hand clasped firmly over your mouth refuses to let you draw a breath.

The smoke doesn't dissipate, not yet, but you can see him now, almost too clearly, and then your eyes water and your vision clouds.

"I missed you," he says, matter-of-factly. As if he hadn’t just broken into your home. As if he were welcome.

You try to say something but both the hand sealing away your voice and the firm hold he has on your body, pressing it close against his as he leans you against the dresser, allows you no such justice. Your phone crashes off the surface too loudly, and the squeak of the legs as the dresser slides across wooden flooring pierces through your ears.

Izuku's grin is wide and unsettling, like a feral cat delighted to finally have caught its unsuspecting prey. His teeth are disturbingly white in the dark, and his eyes still gleam like electricity in a storm. He doesn't need to use OFA to trap you, and nevertheless, you can see it ripple through his body as a form of intimidation.

By now, he knows that you've already given up flight, and he loves that you know that he knows. You stare at each other for a moment, recognizing the gravity of the situation, and time freezes for a split second.

Then it resumes.

"Say it back," he mutters now, dropping his hand. You'd forgotten to breathe in all this time, not even daring to inhale from your nose, and now suck in a huge volume of air, crying as you breathe it out.

He lets you weep silently for a few more moments, your hands digging deep into the edge of the dresser, watching you with the blank expression that is so unlike him but also far too much like him. It's the one that is devoid of his usual compassion, once he's decided that you are in no way worth saving but rather something to be dealt with. Swiftly, efficiently. When you catch it and recognize it for what it is, your blood runs cold and suddenly your tears dry up. They’re pointless.

"Say it back." his tone is more demanding now, and you shake your head.

"I didn-"

"Say it back." he repeats again, and he advances. The smoke is starting to clear finally, ever so slightly, and you can see a little more of him. He is superficially the same as you remember before you disappeared on him just a few months ago - same broad shoulders and imposing height, heroic frame despite the boyish, freckled face - but there’s a faint pallor under his skin, and he's just very slightly more gaunt, something you can peek from the neckline of his plain blue t-shirt, and there is a very slight tremulousness that extends to his fingertips that reminds you he is much more angry than he wants to let on.

You step back reflexively and consider standing your ground, and then you remember that the same hands that once held your face gently have leveled a building to that same ground, and you swallow hard.

"I-it's been a while." your voice is barely audible, weak, not much more than a whisper.

"That's not what I asked you to say," Izuku catches immediately. But he allows it, leaning in, and his face is all smiles again. Your stomach turns and again you're leaning back, but all that is behind you is a hard surface, and he even helps you up there, immediately hoisting you onto the short dresser so that your back presses against a mirror, something that can so easily break. 

It’s not really that unlike you now that you think about it. You are just as fragile.

He snorts.

"Did you think I couldn't find you?" he asks.

You shake your head and he laughs, and quicker than a flash he's grabbed your face by the underside of your chin, squishing your cheeks together in mock intimacy.

"How cute."

Your throat dries up again enough that a sharp breath would make you choke and sputter.

His eyes dart back and forth, inspecting every part of your body, from your face to your neck, bosom to your upper limbs, then your thighs, bare in pajama shorts. You feel unreasonably vulnerable, like he has x-ray vision, seeing to the very center of your person. There is an impulse to cover your chest, despite being covered tastefully in a tank top, and when you try to cross your arms, he forces them back to their sides.

There's a gasp you let out and then you bite your lip silent, afraid to make him angry. Izuku glares at you, licking his lips.

"You realize I only let you go so you could get back to your senses, right?"

This has you taken aback, despite all your fear. What does he mean, 'get back to your senses'? You meant it when you left. Things had felt wrong for far too long, and the walls were starting to close in... calling too much, worrying too much, comments about your clothing and your comings and goings, nervous about any men who he wasn't aware of becoming too familiar, even your own brother... It had all become too much the longer you dated and suddenly you were a frog nearly half-boiled, realizing it was almost too late.

Maybe it is too late now. Izuku, you can tell, is still in his own twisted way, in love with you.

After all, his hand is running gently the length of your thigh as he waits for you to speak. You won't speak, but you know you can't look away, lest he throw a real tantrum. As if stalking you right now and demanding you tell him you missed him is not tantrum enough.

The smoke continues to clear.

"You're taking too long to apologize, my love." he says, once his hand has reached your face again, and he's tilting your face to look at him. You allow him to move you, like a warm life-size doll, not a human with thoughts and feelings of your own.

"I've missed you so much... sure i've been busy, but going home to that cold bed without you, night after night? How cruel can you be?"

He turns to look at your own bed, smaller than the one you shared but still enough space for two.

"Do you still sleep on the left side?" he asks. This time he's not looking at you, still staring at the mangled sheets on both ends.

He turns back to you now, expecting an answer, and when you don't give him one immediately, he repeats himself again, sharply.

"Do you?"

"Yes." you admit, wondering why it sounds like a grave confession. He smiles, and you try not to look at him. and yet he tilts you face back in his direction before asking you another question.

"Bunny, you're so cruel, you know that? Valentine's day?" he asks. His eyebrow raises  and he tilts his head to the side. "How could you leave me on Valentine's day?"

When should I have? you ask in your head, thankful he can't hear your thoughts.

"I had a ring, love. I wanted to marry you, maybe that day even. We could sign some papers and disappear with each other for a little while… It could have been such a beautiful thing, you know how badly I need a break! So imagine how it felt to see that you were long gone!"

Izuku's grip on your chin tightens for a moment, then he pushes you slightly. The back of your head taps gently at the mirror behind you, but it doesn't hurt and the glass doesn't break, even if there is a sting where his fingers pressed onto your skin.

He steps back and laughs again, really laughs, hands running through his hair as he doubles over in amusement. 

"I looked so stupid! flowers and chocolate and stuffed animals and sparklers... I was going to fly you up to the highest point and write our names in the sky.. I was..." his voice trails off, and he is staring off into space. You are shaking now, crying too, somewhere between terrified and enraged the longer he speaks.

His eyes narrow as his gaze snaps back to you from your sniffling sound.

"Say what you want to say, dove." The edge in his voice is palpable though, as if he is expecting a hit that he will return with just as much fervor.

“You can't force me.” Vitriol seeps from your voice but it’s shaky and unconvincing.

And so he laughs, again, sinking down finally onto your bed, and laying backward, an action that makes you almost furious. A mocking laugh, arms spreading like he would make a snow angel; bile rises in your throat and you fidget but you don't move, knowing that your break for it has to be smart if it will be successful.

"But you can make me fall for you?" he asks, through humorless chuckles. "That's not fair, is it?"

Bolder now, you retort, "I didn't make you do anything."

Izuku doesn't like this response, moving fast enough that one second he's off the bed and right in your face and the other second has you thrown onto the mattress itself; so fast that you barely register it until your back is where his back was, and he is hovering right on top of you.

"You approached me first." This is said harshly, as though he is regretful of that fateful encounter and you resist the urge to spit in his face.

No, you just said hi to him first, and he was smitten that you'd given him any attention, The cute but admittedly terribly awkward boy sitting alone in a coffee shop, with an extra chair that you'd wanted to borrow for your friends. Maybe you'd given him too long of eye contact, maybe it was the fact that you didn't know who he was yet; maybe you had flirted a little the second time you met, but who wouldn't when having a chance to meet the charming hero on television, the one who hugged children and petted dogs and smiled to the camera and disappeared villains in the blink of an eye?

How could you have known he had a couple screws loose? He was so good otherwise.

Until the paranoia set in. the obsession with you and your safety and your innocence and you belonging to him and the constant explaining away of unhinged behavior, and the long periods of absence with sudden, extreme and unending demands for intimacy - he was making you as crazy as he was.

"I didn't know you were insane."  you finally say, looking straight up into his eyes, brazen behavior arising from three years of almost pulling your hair out and three short months of fear.

His eyes widen, and for a split second he looks furious, and in his eyes you suddenly see a storm - in fact, you imagine your entire home up in flames and lightning instead of smoke - and then he kisses you.

You fight back, but the grip on your wrists is like wrought iron - in fact, as though making a mockery of you as he leans all of his weight on top of you, he shifts your wrists forced at your sides to rest above your head, then uses one hand to keep them together, the other stroking the side of your face gently. The longer you kick at him, the longer he presses your legs down, then adjusts his weight to pin you fully, the longer you can feel your head start to spin from lack of air in your lungs.

"Settle down." he orders you, once you're almost dizzy, as the fight quickly makes its way out of you. He forces his tongue down your throat and suddenly, eventually, instead of biting you accept it, because this is a body you know, and a body that you've fought but you've also held, and the taste of his tongue is the same as it's always been.

His weight is familiar, and the way he sucks your tongue and his lips clash with yours is intimate, and again your fighting spirit drains further and further. Your limbs grow limp and he adjusts, now less on top of you and more fitted against you, large body accommodating to the spread of your legs.

He pulls back, and your eyelids flutter. Izuku looks at you with an unnatural amount of love, an unsettling amount of love, a love that is crushingly abundant and inescapable.

You hear him whisper, "that's my girl."

It should make you angry, but instead you're tired, exhausted even, and then you're comforted, because why fight him when you won't win and when he loves you anyway?

Will anyone else ever feel this strongly about you, enough to remove any obstacles in your path, even if it is your own silly will to be free? Will anyone else be so willing to be your own personal monster, at your beck and call?

You have the power to make the prison your home. After all, you are not only stuck to him, he is just as much stuck to you.

Deku is a good hero. Izuku is a good man. He is your man.

He’s strange, and he’s terrifying, but that’s because he is special. Unique. You have to understand where he’s coming from. If not you, then who else?

Your hands curl into his hair, tugging softly and your body shifts too, legs wrapping around his waist keeping him snug against you. You know if he wanted to, he would as easily melt into your skin as he wishes you would consume him. After all, what else runs through his head all day? It is only natural that separation from you should make him this anxious, this self- and outwardly destructive.

There is tragedy just as much as there is comedy and joy in fate.

"Do you love me?" you ask, as you feel Izuku grow against you with every wave of his body against your center. He nips and bites at you relentlessly, leaving hickeys everywhere he can reach. Marking you, marking you, marking you.

"Yes," he whispers. He kisses your earlobes, and your hands reach the side of his face, cupping them so that he faces you.

"Do you love me enough to ever let me go?" you ask again.

Are your eyes pleading for mercy? You know that they are wet with tears, but you can still see him. He's beautiful when he's not angry, when he's not afraid or stressed or vengeful. The sweetest man. A man you've loved. Someone you still love even if you are afraid.

Izuku shakes his head quickly, and tears fill his eyes.

"I love you too much for that to be possible."

You nod, and a tear slides sideways down your cheek. He'll never understand. Maybe one day you’ll accept it, when you’ve both grown too old to argue.

"Good."

He dips down low and kisses you and this time, you accept him more readily. It takes not long for your clothes and his clothes to be shed, and your naked bodies to press together fervently, the once freezing room now hot with twisted passion. Izuku bites your lower lip and asks you who else has touched you since him.

“No one, Izu,” you whisper. 

He’s pleased to hear it, not that you could safely give him any other answer. His cock presses hot and heavy against your pubic bone; he hasn’t entered you yet, and you wonder how he’s managed to wait this long before stuffing you full.

Izuku kisses your forehead, then your nose, then lifts himself up so that he’s rested on his haunches. You gasp as he drags your lower half upwards to his mouth as easily as lifting a glass of water, and sips, then gulps your center down, thirstily like your pussy is an oasis and he is a weary traveler seeking solace.

He’s moaning, palming your ass cheeks with fervor as he slurps you down - worse so because he is loud as he eats you up - your back arches and you grab fistfuls of his hair as you whine and mewl and squirm under his touch. It’s too much, it’s always too much and yet you can feel your head swim with pleasure the longer he goes on. 

After all, he just loves you so much, he just has a heavy-handed way of showing it. 

“God, you taste so good,” he whispers into your folds. “You’re so beautiful, you’re everything, I need you so much, bunny, don’t you know?” His tongue circles around your clit, licks long stripes to the taint, dips into your center; he sucks at your folds, bites gently even, ignoring the straggled gasp you let out, or the way your legs tighten around his shoulders as you tense up and explode into climax.

As you shudder and shake as he lets you go, laying you back down to recover from the first blinding orgasm, he whispers that you are beautiful again, and again, and again. 

You know you’re beautiful. He’s told you so many times already, enough that even if you stare at the mirror and think of yourself as less than perfect, you can hear him over and over again in your head.

Beautiful. Perfect. Gorgeous. His.

You are his.

Izuku takes no time filling you to the hilt once your breathing evens out - or once he runs out of patience - and you wince as you adjust to his size, but it’s a mostly pleasurable burning stretch as he bullies his way into your pussy, letting out a sigh as he nestles deep where he belongs, and he actually smiles, relief that you can see in the dim light when he presses his forehead again close to yours.

“Don’t we fit together perfectly?”

“Mm, ‘zuku,” you reply in the affirmative. Mollified and malleable you are now, as you should be for him, your voice is soft, barely a whisper, wavering only with the twitch of his cock inside you.

Izuku kisses your earlobe, and rolls you so that you lay above him, forcing you upright.

“So I can see you better,” he says as he nudges you, and understanding, you support your weight gently with your palms. He won’t make you ride him, he’ll do all the movement himself, but he loves to see the bounce of your breasts as they do now with every thrust upwards. Every gasp and sigh as you hold on to him, the twist of your features, the way you throw your head back when he has a firm grip on your hips and really goes to town; how you shake when you climax, squeezing your quivering thighs together in time with your fluttering walls, drawing in deep breaths for lewd, lewd moans. 

Izuku plays you like a fucking fiddle.

He pleasures you first, because oh goodness, he can outlast you nearly any day of the week, drawing climax after climax out of you until you’re dumb and quiet, waiting for the thick spurts of cum to fill you up.

He’s done this enough times, until you’re craving and needy and forget why you’re mad in the first place.

Dick sick and sick in the head, just as much as he is. 

And just like that, he forces his way back into your life. Legs tangled together as you sleep, lives intertwined anew like nothing ever happened.

You’ll become a very good liar yet again, but for now, as he rests, his face nestled into your bosom and hold unbreakable and inescapable, you decide to sleep, and leave your love problems to the morning to come.