○ writing on ao3 or you can scroll through my masterlist for fics and aus
○ i write mainly for mha but i am extremely multifandom (hq, sk8, toh, trc, persona, +more) and multiship (if they look at each other they're in love) so i'm always excited to talk about other animes, ships, games, etc!!
○ momojirou supremacy
tags!
# spritebite fics - all fics posted
# spriteideas - all drabbles/aus
# spritespeaks - all posts of my thoughts/random talking
There's no better way for Izuku to thank Katsuki for subbing for him when he's sick... than having him sub for him.
“Izuku.” It’s a warning. A cautious approach. Shy.
Izuku lets his thumb roll over a nipple. Once, twice before lightly dragging a nail across it.
“You’re sick.”
But it’s breathy. It’s exhaled, and Izuku knows he doesn’t mean it.
“You would have caught it last night anyway. Please? No one has to know. It’s just a little extra credit.”
[AO3 link] or read below ↴
An incessant blaring drags Izuku from his deep sleep. It goes on and on, screaming a reminder of his responsibilities at him. The yearning ache for One for All is a rare occurrence nowadays. Although time heals and provides more in life than one could ever possibly want, being the poster child for that notion made it easy for Izuku to sink into a new trajectory in life following the war.
At this moment, however, he really wishes it was burning through him. The ember’s residual smoke that charges through his arm isn’t enough to fully obliterate his alarm clock as he swings outward to slam it silent. Maybe next time, he thinks to himself. There will be five more chances this morning alone.
He knows that One for All could not make mornings easier for himself. It was a pipe dream to think that he would never struggle with them, unlike Katsuki.
Hmm, Katsuki.
It’s always been a blessing that Katsuki sleeps so soundly throughout the night despite all the alarms and occasional sleep talking. Izuku likes to think that it’s because of Katsuki’s undying love for him, but realistically, he knows it’s only because Katsuki’s hearing aids are resting on the nightstand. He turns onto his side and wiggles himself across the bed until he’s pressed against the blond’s back. The additional heat instantly sends a shiver up Izuku’s spine, and he tugs their blanket higher around them. Pressing his face closer, his nose buries into the soft, disheveled spikes. He wraps an arm around Katsuki’s trimmed waist, and tucks his leg between Katsuki’s. Every inch closer is a meager attempt to leech off as much heat as possible. It doesn’t feel like enough.
He’s used to Katsuki turning the apartment’s temperature lower before bed. He runs so hot that a blanket is sometimes unnecessary even in the winter. So hot that Izuku would find himself shoved halfway across the bed with a sleeping arm outstretched to keep it that way. So hot that Izuku can’t help but wonder why he isn’t getting any warmer.
Another shiver climbs through him.
A sharp grumble sounds next to him. “‘S fucking hot.”
Before he can comprehend what Katsuki is talking about, an elbow jabs into his side. With Katsuki’s grogginess dulling the hit’s impact, he’s barely knocked onto his back, but it throws him completely off his axis. Everything is spinning. It feels like back in high school when he would get suplexed during sparring sessions. He groans in protest.
“Quit bein’ a baby. Barely touched ‘ya,” Katsuki says, kicking his feet until their blanket is tumbling off the end of the bed.
A whine escapes Izuku at the sudden onslaught of cold air. In hindsight, he knows he should be embarrassed by the petulance. Especially when Katsuki huffs and props himself up on one elbow. His lamp flicks on, emitting a soft glow around broad shoulders moving to roughly put a hearing aid in, and haloing disheveled spikes as he turns to face Izuku.
“The fuck is your deal—’Zuku?” The glower melts to concern in an instant, and Izuku fights a pout. He feels childish, but he hopes he looks as cold as he feels, if only for the sole satisfaction of getting an apology. “You look like shit.”
“I’m cold. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Cold? C’mere.” Before a question or protest can arise, a warm hand presses to his forehead. Izuku sighs contentedly and leans further into it. “You’re burning the fuck up.”
He tries to explain that’s not an accurate way to take someone’s temperature, but he can feel how jumbled it sounds when he opens his mouth. The words slur and tumble together as if foreign to his tongue.
“I can tell you’re trying to nerdsplain to me, but right now, I need you to shut the fuck up.” Katsuki throws his legs over the side of the bed, snatching his other aid in one hand and the previously tossed blanket in the other. He lays the latter atop Izuku, giving the sides a few quick tucks. Izuku closes his eyes as his curls are pushed back from his face, and he realizes how stuck to his forehead they had been.
Footsteps retreat from the bedside, and Izuku takes it as his queue to scooch even further onto Katuski’s side. He revels in the warmth left behind and deeply inhales before curling his knees to his chest. There were more alarms he had time to sleep through, and against everything, he was determined to do so. It was easy to let himself begin to drift back now that his teeth weren’t threatening to chatter.
The chance never comes as the bed sinks in next to him. Izuku’s grunt of annoyance is met with a silencing tut with a gruff, “Enough. Can you sit up for me?” The tone implies a please, and Izuku hates that he can’t stand his ground against it.
Cracking his eyes open, he finds an outstretched hand holding two white pills and another with a cup of water.
“I don’t need that, Kacchan. You just made it way too cold in here,” Izuku says, thankful that the residual heat of Katsuki had thawed his voice back to normal. The look Katsuki gives him in return is one he knows he can’t push back against either. The one he received on the night that he tried to argue about taking in the stray cat that they had been feeding for the past few weeks. The same one he gets after putting a third All Might themed cereal into their grocery cart. The look that always tells him no to having coffee long after the sun has set.
It’s a slow-moving process to prop himself up, his arms shaking against his own weight. Katsuki holds one arm steady as Izuku uses the other to pop the pills into his mouth, and he lifts the cup to his lips for him. He doesn’t want to admit how nice the water felt on his throat and give Katsuki’s worry more ammunition.
It isn’t as if he’d be able to, though, with the thermometer promptly shoved in his mouth as soon as he finishes swallowing. His shoulders droop, attempting to read the temperature as it climbs, his eyes cross looking down his nose. The instant nausea has him blinking them back to normal. The waiting feels like hours rather than seconds.
As soon as the first beep sounds, Katsuki yanks it out from under his tongue. “Yeah, you’re not leaving this bed today.”
It sounds nice. Like everything his body craves in that moment, but it’s in that moment that his second alarm chimes. The reality of the day crashes into him so hard that he doesn’t hear the entirety of Katsuki’s speech about these goddamn things.
“No. No. No. Kacchan, I can’t,” Izuku sputters out. The panic in him rises. “You know it’s combat day and I have to see how they do. Sports festival is in two weeks. This determines their internships which determines their entire future. You of all people know how integral these are, and if I’m not there to coach them and polish—”
Katsuki opens his mouth but it’s cut off by Izuku’s now wailing tone.
”Oh, I could ruin their entire futures. And there’s no time to reschedule. I’ve already gotten Uraraka and Gunhead and—” His mouth is covered, and his spilling worries physically smothered.
“Holy shit, I’ll do it.”
Izuku pries the hand from his mouth, clutching the fingers tightly. “I couldn’t ask that of you, and—”
“No. I don’t have any patrols today, and I’m not on call for another two.” Katsuki’s tone is smooth and calm, but Izuku can tell he’s teetering on the verge of annoyance. ”I know how your nerd brain works. I’ve heard you talk about the brats enough to know exactly what you want from each of ‘em. I was there for training last month, and I sure as shit can prep them for those stupid games. Or are you forgetting who actually won two years of them?”
Izuku was constantly losing this morning.
He’s beat.
Realistically, he knows that no one would bat an eye if Katsuki showed up in his place. There is nothing they could say to him. How could they? Fear and respect would halt any protest. All Might would let him get away with anything. And even though he didn’t want to admit it, Aizawa would do the same after—after everything. The entire nation’s admiration for Katsuki had grown. Izuku couldn’t deny that his admiration for the man had done the same even if it had seemed impossible, but his heart made room for it. Smushed together all the caring and adoration it harbored before to make room for the overwhelming relief and love that came after.
After all their time finding ways to understand each other, work together, cope with the loss of their combined dreams, grieve the distance that grew between them, fight out the misunderstanding and miscommunication, they found common ground in Izuku’s teaching passion and Katsuki’s desire to keep their promises. The last part took the longest and most grueling conversation and compromises.
What keeps Izuku slightly shocked is Katsuki sitting before him, determined to take on this task.
“Are… are you sure?” Izuku asks hesitantly.
“Hell, it’ll give me more of a chance to see what’s so great about being a babysitter.”
“Kacchan,” Izuku warns, giving him a slight glare.
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t need that lecture again, you're off duty today for that, sensei.”
Izuku ignores the teasing tone and the way his heart beats a little faster in response. Shifting lower into the bed, he allows himself to relax, the exhaustion rapidly catching back up to him. “Okay. Yeah, okay. You know where my briefcase is—my teaching one that is. Can you just… can you please be nice to them?”
“Not a chance,” he says with a slight smirk.
The bed slowly springs back into place with Katuski’s absence. A deep yawn overtakes Izuku while listening to the shower start in the distance. The soft noises Katsuki makes as he moves around from the kitchen to the closet to the bathroom where Izuku can hear the shower start lulls him into the comfortable space of not quite consciousness. He’s unsure of how much time passes before a press to his forehead stirs him fully awake once again.
Blinking his eyes open, he finds Katsuki hovering above him, quickly tying his tie. Izuku’s first thought is jealousy at the sheer speed he’s able to accomplish it. His second sends a welcomed flash of heat through him. With Katsuki peering down at him, it's almost reminiscent of the night before, with Katsuki in his lap panting into his mouth
“You’re flushed as hell.”
Izuku sputters, “P-Pretty. You look pretty is all.”
And it’s true. Seeing Katsuki in a suit and tie is something he only gets to witness at galas and special anniversary dates. He doesn’t even try to bite down his smile at Katsuki’s very obvious attempt at styling his hair and the tips of his ears reddening.
“‘S’nough out of you. Water.” Katsuki points to the night stand and then to the floor. “Trashcan just in case.” The bed softly sinks at Izuku’s feet. “And Bitey. You’re all set.”
Pulling a hand out from under the covers, Izuku pets behind the cat’s ears.
“You really have to stop calling her that.”
He only receives an eyeroll in return before Katsuki is leaning in further to press another quick kiss to his forehead.
“Love you and all that.”
“I love Kacchan most. And thank you, really.”
“Hm. Sleep. I’ll be back before you’re even awake.”
With Mighty curling up closer to his chest, Izuku burrows himself fully back under the covers. He listens for the sound of the double locks clicking into place before letting himself drift off.
It’s only late morning when he rouses himself awake, scooching up to get a drink of water, and downing the two pills Katsuki left beside the cup.
It’s early afternoon by the time he wakes entirely from his dreamless sleep.
He takes stock of his surroundings. Mighty stayed by his side throughout the entire day, only moving to now be on the pillow above his head, black tail flicking with annoyance at Izuku’s warmth being gone. The blanket was tossed to the other side of the bed, pillows scattered to the foot of the bed and the floor, all save for Katsuki’s which had stayed clutched in Izuku’s grasp, now covered in drool. He’ll have to wash everything before tonight.
Especially me, he thinks to himself as he tugs at the shirt clinging to him with sweat.
It’s a few hours later when he blinks his eyes open on top of the no longer dryer-warm, clean sheets. He grumbles as he presses himself up and off of the bare mattress. He didn’t need to look in a mirror to see how wild his curls were.
One freshly made bed, cup of tea, and sorry, running late text from Katsuki later, Izuku’s eyes begin to droop closed.
The front door unlocking wakes Izuku once again.
“Home, Nerd,” Katsuki calls, toeing his shoes off. Izuku perks up and scrambles up off the couch, dizziness fully gone.
“Kacchan, welcome home!” He skids to a halt and bounces on the balls of his feet. Katsuki ducks down and Izuku closes his eyes, puckering his lips.
The kiss never comes. Only a hand slapped to his forehead that holds him in place, flat on his feet. He scrunches his eyebrows together and grunts in protest. Katsuki hums a pleased sound before finally pressing his lips to Izuku’s cheek.
“Soup,” Katsuki says simply. Holding the plastic bags in his hands out to Izuku, he continues, “Feel okay enough to unpack these while I shower?”
Izuku takes the bags happily. He is so grateful for how well his Kacchan took care of him. Opening his mouth to say as much, he’s stopped in his tracks, mouth shutting immediately as he looks at Katsuki. He drinks in the sigh of Katsuki using a single finger to loosen his tie. Katsuki ruffles his hair as he moves past him gently, and Izuku’s eyes trail after him. As Katsuki shrugs his suit jacket off, his shoulders flex beneath his white button up, and Izuku has the sudden urge to bitebitebite.
The bathroom door shutting shakes him out of his stupor. He lets the thoughts trail to the back of his mind, and they stay there and hum long after Katsuki has emerged in his sweatpants and old UA sweater. They rattle as he moves effortlessly throughout the kitchen and fills Izuku in on how the day went.
“Even Cheeks almost got her ass handed to her by that kid. ‘Lil asshole nearly had her pinned.”
Every impure thought buzzing through Izuku mixes with the gooey, prideful swell that fills his heart as Katsuki continues on. He lists which students he is thinking about recruiting himself and which he is going to recommend to Kirishima for his first round of sidekicks. His attentiveness and care aren’t a surprise to Izuku, but it’s something he wishes he could have seen in action today.
* * *
By the time they finish dinner and dishes and curl up on the couch, Katsuki pulls out the notebook of Izuku’s that he filled out. Pointing out each of the details, he added that day and what he thought Izuku would need to help train them on further.
“Pissed me off how cocky he was, though,” Katsuki grumbles out after turning the page. “Felt like Endeavor giving him a lecture on how he was being a lazy shit and wasn’t at his full potential. Never would be if he didn’t try.”
“Hm, sounds like I missed a show.” Izuku shuts the notebook and sets his hand on Katsuki’s thigh, fingers lightly tapping in a rhythm as he skims them higher.
“Can’t be that sick if you’re acting like this. If you were faking it, I’ll kill you.”
He goes to stand up, and no, Izuku can’t let that happen. He hooks a strong leg around Katsuki’s hip, pulling him back down before he can fully rise from the couch. His hands shoot out to catch himself on the back of the couch, one on each side of Izuku’s head. Izuku’s hands quickly reach up behind thighs to tug Katsuki’s further into this lap, spreading him so he’s straddling Izuku’s lap.
Before Katsuki can let out a curse, Izuku blinks up at him. “I’m feeling a lot better.” Scarred hands move to trail beneath Katsuki’s shirt and up his chest. “Plus… I need to make up for missing class today. Don’t you think, Sensei.”
“Izuku.” It’s a warning. A cautious approach. Shy.
Izuku lets his thumb roll over a nipple. Once, twice before lightly dragging a nail across it.
“You’re sick.”
But it’s breathy. It’s exhaled, and Izuku knows he doesn’t mean it.
“You would have caught it last night anyway. Please? No one has to know. It’s just a little extra credit.” Izuku pouts up at Katsuki. His fingertips slide down lower, and he revels in the way Katsuki tenses beneath them. Izuku keeps them moving until they dig into Katsuki’s hips. He pulls down and forward, and the quick drag against each other pulls out a sharp intake of breath from above him. It goes straight through his veins.
He tries again, but is met with rigid resistance. Leaning up, he trails kisses up Katsuki’s neck. He feels the stubbled jaw clench as his lips move across it. He moves to lick the shell of Katsuki’s ear, teeth biting at his earlobe.
“Quit fighting. You know it never works.” Izuku says.
There’s no reaction. Not a whimper or sigh. Izuku clicks his tongue.
He cups the back of Katsuki’s neck and forces him to lean down further into Izuku’s space. Teeth keep biting. At Katsuki’s ear again, then cheek, then bottom lip until it’s opening for him. And finally, finally, he gets some reciprocation as their lips work in tandem. The slight apprehension that Katsuki still holds in his shoulders reminds Izuku of their first time kissing. Back when Katsuki was still putting up a front that he wasn’t putty in Izuku’s hands and willing to let him take control.
But now—now it’s so easy to lick at the corner of his mouth and pull out the sighs he craves nightly. Swallowing them down so he doesn’t let a single inch go untouched, his tongue traces each point of Katsuki’s teeth and punctures his own make on spit-soaked lips.
“Did you miss me that much in class today?” Izuku asks as he pulls away for air. The miniscule space he allows between them causes it to be mumbled against Katsuki’s lips. “Sad I couldn’t bend you over your desk the second everyone left?”
He doesn’t let Katsuki respond, immediately pulling him back to swallow down whatever pathetic whimper he knows would have followed. Izuku’s nails rake through blond spikes.
He wants Kacchan closer. Needs to have every inch of skin touching. Craves to have Kacchan crawl inside him and live there forever where he can keep him safe, secure, his.
Katsuki’s hips rut forward. The slow, languid movement shows that he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Izuku can feel how hard Katsuki is beneath his sweats now. He knows that if he spared a glance down, there would be a mouthwatering outline and a wet spot he would give anything to lap up. It’s taunting how light Katsuki’s pretty dick grazes against his with each thrust, and it takes everything in him to keep the two of them steady. As much as the rattling thoughts from earlier are begging him to flip Katsuki under him, where he belongs, he can’t bring himself to pull apart for more than a second.
Izuku lets his hands move to Katsuki’s biceps, squeezing. His mouth drops open in a groan and Katsuki takes the opportunity to move his lips down to the corner of Izuku’s mouth. Kissingkissingkissing. Like he can’t stop. Like a dog showing their affection in the only way they know how.
“Such a good boy. Go on, take what you need.” Izuku murmurs.
The response he gets is small, almost inaudible with the wet smacking filling their living room. But it’s there, high pitched in the back of Katsuki’s throat.
The first sign of total, utter surrender.
Katsuki pulls back, a string of saliva keeping them connected, always connected. His forehead drops to Izuku’s shoulder. Heavy, damp pants fan across Izuku neck.
There’s a faint smell of burnt sugar, and Izuku thinks he could get drunk off the scent. He takes a deep inhale, but it’s not enough. He noses into Katsuki’s neck, inhaling deeper as his lips keep moving, his teeth still scraping.
“‘M so lucky to have such a strong hero to teach me. I’m a good student, right? You’re favorite?”
Katsuki can only nod. His hands finally leave the back of the couch in favor of holding onto Izuku’s shoulders. His hips start to move a little faster, more sporadically. He mouths a confirmation, his quickened breath not allowing words to escape.
Izuku presses his hand against the small of Katsuki’s back, keeping him locked in the push and pull of their hips. The other grabs the back of Katsuki’s neck. Rough, calloused fingers tug at blond roots and Katsuki mewls into his mouth–scruffed.
“Good pup.”
Their lips find each other again.
It’s less careful this time. Sloppy. Tongues missing each other in favor of teeth, lips, cheeks. A metallic taste fills their mouths briefly when the pressure between them feels too good and they bite down too rough.
Katuski’s full weight presses Izuku deeper into the couch. Each time Katsuki grinds against Izuku faster, chasing the pleasure burning in their guts, Izuku wraps his hands around Katsuki’s waist to slow them down. They flex as his fingertips barely skim against each other. He could break Kacchan if he wanted. He could snap Kacchan right in half. Could hold Kacchan down on his cock and never let him off.
His head spins at the thought. Katsuki’s begging, whining, pleasepleasepleases break through the blood rushing in Izuku’s ears. He blinks away the dizziness behind his eyes, and he realizes he fully halted Katsuki no more than an inch away from him.
Looking up at pleading red eyes and damp lashes has the ache burning in Izuku reach a fever pitch.
“Sensei, if you’re any louder they’ll hear us. You’ll get in trouble,” Izuku says. A tight groan strains out of Katsuki. “Oh, but is that what you want? For them to know the great Dynamight let’s his star pupil turn him into this sad, pathetic mess?”
“‘Zuku, baby,” Katsuki whispers. “Please?”
The pace of their rolling hips becomes erratic.
Semblances of kisses are there.
Their lips attempt to find each other over and over again despite their mouths hanging open, pants escaping. They glide against each other with drool and spit and licks.
Katsuki’s hips lose all sense of control, and Izuku doesn’t fare any better as he forgoes keeping them at a steady pace. He loses focus, drowns in the feeling of their dicks barely separating before rutting against each other once more. It spurs him to chase what he needs, thrusting up upwards faster to meet Katsuki’s.
The thread snaps so fast, Izuku nearly pitches them straight off the couch. He wraps his arms around Katsuki’s waist, keeping him upright as he moans into Izuku’s shoulder. He muffles his own shout, biting into the spot where Katsuki’s neck meets broad shoulder–straight atop nearly permanent teeth marks.
Ears rushing with blood, he remembers to spill out praise after praise. Never pulling back from Katsuki’s as his moans teeter off and hips stutter before slowing.
He gives Katsuki a second to catch his breath before he settles them back into the couch.
They stay curled together for a bit longer. Their chests rise and fall against each other until Izuku tries to stifle a yawn.
It’s caught despite his efforts.
Katsuki shoves him back into the couch, pushing off of him and storming out of the living room. Izuku can hear the low curses, the shitty deku, the can’t believe this. They fade out under the sound of the sink turning on, and fade back in when he stomps into the living room. Katsuki throws a wet rag in his face as if to cover Izuku’s immediate smile.
“Clean. Since you’re feeling fine.”
And then he’s gone again, the bathroom door shutting behind him.
Izuku does as he’s told, too spent to argue and follow him. He knows he’ll be back.
He always is.
The blanket tossed over his bare legs merely a few minutes later proves it.
Katsuki presses into his side, letting Izuku lean his full weight on his shoulder. Soft clicks of the remote are followed by the intro to their favorite All Might movie: the first one they watched together as kids.
He smiles and curls further into Katsuki.
Then, he sits straight up.
“Wait! Kacchan, you didn’t tell me what you’re going to bump my grade up to.”
“Wha—would you fucking knock it off?”
Izuku snickers a little, trailing off as he notices Katsuki scrunching his nose in the way he does when he’s working up the courage to say something. It takes a beat before Katsuki opens his mouth, turning his eyes back towards the screen.
“By the way. Quit referrin’ to me as Kacchan in front of the brats. Wouldn’t stop bringing it up. ‘Bout blew them all up.”
Izuku’s jaw drops. Fully.
“Kacchan, did… did you get teased?”
“No!” But it’s sputtered. Embarrassed. Voice raised higher than Katsuki probably realizes.
Izuku laughs. A raging fit that has him gasping for breath as he launches forward and grabs the back of Katsuki’s shirt to pull him back down.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Of course you weren’t.” Izuku pets through soft spikes, a yawn catching at the end of his sentence.
His hand is swatted away, then grabbed and tugged as Katsuki rearranges them back into their previous position. He tugs Izuku’s head onto his shoulder, wordlessly prompting him back to sleep.
Izuku reaches a hand out to lace their fingers together, and he listens, knowing Katsuki will always be there to take care of him.
the real challenge of adulthood that no one tells you about in advance is how many goddamn pieces of paper you have to keep up with that are never important until they are suddenly VERY important
