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⊹₊⟡⋆ what the heart wants (pt. 3) | dk x bk x reader ⋆⟡₊⊹

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ recommended to read other parts first, but not required! izuku's girlfriend realizes she has a teeny tiny crush on his best and oldest friend, katsuki. at least, it starts that way. or maybe, you've all felt this way for a long time, and just need that little push... ⋆｡˚✴︎⋆ 10k wc

٠࣪⭑ cw: 18+, smut, reader x izuku established relationship, buildup and yearning, fem!sub!reader, softdom!izuku, switch!katsuki, oral sex (m & f!receiving), praise kink, slight dacryphilia, slight size kink, manhandling, teasing, spitting, voyeurism (just to be safe), edging (also to be safe), somnophilia (reader is woken up w/head), reader is mentioned having hair, barely proofread so please excuse any mistakes and let me know if i forgot any tags!

٠࣪⭑ author's note: finally finished this omg. been feeling very deadbeat writer lately lol. part 4 is currently in the works and to be posted soon :) these three are so fun to write i <3 them

for you, it starts with a dream.

you are no stranger to sex dreams. sometimes they're about your boyfriend, sometimes they're about someone you haven't seen in ten years, it doesn’t really matter. usually afterwards, you wake up with a little smirk; izuku performs his usual analysis of your face upon waking, kisses your jaw and asks: what’d you dream about, baby? he always seems to know about your unconscious escapades, because when you mumble about having a dirty dream he giggles and ask who the star was.

this particular morning, however, you turn away from his still sleeping form without even opening your eyes. your heart is pounding in your chest, and you’re afraid that if you lay too close to him, izuku will somehow hear it, or sense it. he seems to have a freaky ability to notice every shift in your mood, every step your body takes away from perfect homeostasis.

izuku kissing you and looking at you and perceiving you is the last thing you need right now. if he makes eye contact with you for long enough he’ll know that you’re being weird and he’ll surely ask you about it, so you need to buy yourself some time to calm down.

not that you have anything to hide. not really.

you decide to craft the perfect exit, sitting up with purpose, but not too abruptly.

he’s already groaning and starting to reach for you when you swoop down, plant a kiss on his forehead and say, “morning love, i have to pee real quick,” before swinging your legs over the side of the bed and scrambling towards the bathroom.

it’s the right choice. his voice, scratchy with sleep, calls, “no, stayyy–“ a yawn cutting him off before he continues, “baby, come back an’ cuddle with meee…”

you can’t help but snort. “i will literally be right back!”

as you scurry down the hallway to the toilet, you pat your hands on your cheeks, tapping to try and dispel the heat simmering there that threatens to boil over.

you veer into the bathroom and sit on the edge of the tub, rubbing your eyes vigorously to clear your head; when you close them, you can still picture the dream, every gory little detail. what strikes you more than the actual events in the dream is the feeling of it, one that still lingers in your chest.

you’d been in your bed; nothing too crazy!

the visuals are hazy in the way dreams are after waking, but you know you’d been gripping and clawing at someone’s broad back, with taught muscles rippling under your fingers. you remember the feeling of hot breath at your neck, with the occasional kiss or nip tugging vulnerable moans from your lips.

whoever it was was grinding into you deep and slow, tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. with your ankles locked around his torso, you prevented him from getting too far away, keeping your hips practically flush.

you remember feeling overwhelmed, overcome, something stirring in your gut that felt an awful lot like an intense, focused affection. the whole dream held an air of warmth and connection, like something familiar.

you’d carded you hands through soft locks, pulling and tugging at the strands, wanting whoever it was to kiss you. when you looked up at him, finally focusing your gaze, all too familiar eyes met yours – eyes the color of fresh blood, or a ripe cherry. the hair you’d been playing with blonde and spiked, but softer than you’d thought possible.

in the dream, you’d cupped his cheek, and his skin felt silken, damp with a sheen of sweat; you’d kissed him hard, kissed him messy, kissed him like you needed his lips to survive. you distinctly recall that there’d been a string of spit connecting you to each other when he pulled away.

right before slipping back into consciousness, you’d gasped his name like a prayer, like confession…

“katsuki, ka-katsuki!”

when you open your eyes now, ass freezing against the chilled porcelain of your bathtub, your lips part, forming an oh. you allow yourself a small chuckle as you relish in the feeling of the dream before it dissipates.

it really isn’t a big deal, right? now that you’re waking up more, the disorientation you felt upon waking is fading. that was… confusing, certainly, but with a clearer head you can acknowledge, it was just a dream. nothing to worry about. nothing here to overthink!

before leaving the bathroom, you flush the toilet so izuku doesn’t wonder and go ahead and wash your hands; maybe it will help you feel a little less… dirty.

you give yourself a once over in the mirror, wiping any trace of the dream from your face. not that you’re hiding it, you just don’t really want to endure the teasing that will absolutely occur if you admit that you had a sex dream about kacchan.

god, you shudder at the thought. izuku never let you live it down. it’s best to keep it to yourself.

back in your bed, he wraps himself around you the second your body hits the mattress, nuzzling your face with his nose and planting kisses all over your cheeks. it makes any more thoughts regarding the dream vanish from your mind. instead, you just bask in the steady stream of adoration.

“you took forever,” he mumbles, and you laugh because really, there’s no way you were gone for longer than five minutes. “next time ‘m coming with you.”

it’s a good thing you’re so head over heels in love with him, because the intensity with which he cares for you, loves you, needs you isn’t for the faint of heart. “so needy,” you chide, curling into him and adjusting your position until you fit like two puzzle pieces. one of his emerald curls is sticking out above the others and you twist it around your finger.

for just a moment, you see a flash of blonde hair instead. all of the sudden it feels a little harder to get a good breath.

soft lips are pressing against the hollow of your throat when he murmurs, “can’t help it.” he tucks his head into your chest, biting once before resting his cheek against the soft flesh of your breast.

“izuku,” you murmur.

“hm?”

“can you grab my phone?” without moving from his position, the arm slung over your waist gropes around behind you, searching your nightstand. he strains, trying to grab the phone without getting up from his comfortable position, until he finally grasps it and holds it above his head, mumbling something that sounds like ‘here’ into your skin. “thanks,” you say, taking it from him.

at first you go through the motions; checking your notifications, responding to a few texts, and briefly skimming your email before opening instagram to check your feed. of course, the first photo is of a certain explosive pro hero, suit half off and tied at the waist to expose a tight white tank top. flexed biceps fill your field of vision when you hold the screen closer, peering over the photo with a particularly attentive eye.

katsuki looks good. like, suspiciously good. the last time you remember him posting on instagram was…. well, you honestly can’t remember the last time he posted. despite the little blue checkmark by his name, his profile was pretty much empty, save for semi-annual posts announcing hero rankings and obligatory photo ops with hero safety commission officials.

well, his profile used to be empty, but it isn’t anymore. clicking his account and scrolling down, you find at least ten new posts. they’re all shots of katsuki in his suit, at his desk, on patrol; they’re great photos, and he’s even smiling in a couple of them. he looks ruggedly handsome in all, with over half exposing the definition of his bare arms. someone has to be behind this.

“hey,” you say, “did kacchan hire a new publicist or something?”

izuku’s voice is muffled when he answers, “yeah, after that incident with the camera guy, remember?”

ah, yes, the incident where katsuki had rather unceremoniously destroyed a camera belonging to a nosy reporter. sure, the reporter was kind of asking for it, trying to force an interview while katsuki was in the middle of a dangerous job, but still, the footage made him look pretty bad. he’d dropped two spots in the rankings, and complained about it for days afterwards.

“right, right…” your reply is absentminded, as you’re too busy grinning to yourself and typing out a comment under the most recent post:

someone tell him to put those guns away, i feel threatened

unable to stop yourself, you like and comment under all of the new posts. the hero fangirl inside of you seemingly takes over your body as you appreciate this latest photo campaign.

his new publicist is great at their job, with each photo serving a specific purpose: some to make him look sexy, some to make him appear tough on the outside and soft on the inside, some giving him a certain… approachability. considering his reputation, it’s no small feat – one photo, clearly a candid, shows him tenderly scratching a stray cat behind the ears, and you giggle at the vulnerable expression adorning his features.

once you’ve admired all the new posts, you click your phone off, tossing it behind izuku and burying your hands in his hair. it earns you a gentle little sigh, encouraging you to scratch softly at his scalp.

“it’s about time,” you joke. “he could be in the top five easy if he just locked in.”

izuku laughs, shifting his head so that he can gaze up at you. “kacchan has always struggled with his attitude.”

“that’s a nice way of putting it,” you mutter, kissing his temple before shifting towards getting up. “c’mon babe, let’s get up and make breakfast.”

“speaking of kacchan…” izuku mumbles, stretching like a cat before rolling himself out of bed. “what do you think it would take to get him to come over and cook for us right now?” he says it with the cadence of a joke, but you know he’s secretly wistful, and you share in the sentiment.

“more than either of us can give him,” you sigh ruefully as you slide into slippers and wrap a throw blanket around your shoulders. “i’ll put the kettle on.”

later that week, katsuki drives you to an appointment.

it feels a little like torture, being trapped in a car with him. all you can seem to think about is how good he smells, and how nice this is, and how for some reason you kinda wanna reach out and touch his arm…. you surprise yourself when you do it, and his muscles tense beneath your fingertips. but he doesn’t pull away.

if you didn’t know better, you’d notice the tick of his jaw, or the way he readjusts his grip on the wheel, gripping it harder. you’d notice the glances he keeps sneaking when he thinks you aren’t looking.

but you do know better. so even if all these things register somewhere in the back of your mind, you ignore them.

if you didn’t know better, you’d have sent him off with a smile and a wave and a thank you. you’d have said goodbye in the car, instead of walking around to his window.

it seems maybe you don’t know better after all.

there’s no plan when you tap on the glass, no plan when you find yourself patting his shoulder. your body reaches for him without your permission, wanting to touch, to feel. it’s without forethought when your lips press against the sizzling skin of his cheek, and you pull away fast, like you’ve been burned. that’s why you turn and bolt, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks as you run away.

after your appointment, you think about that car ride the entire train to ua. something about it felt charged, like a spark that had turned into a proper flame and was now demanding your attention. it was something that had been simmering quietly, ever since that dream you’d had; easy to ignore at first, but not anymore.

your arrival at ua’s campus aligns with the end of the last classes of the day. luckily, you come around often enough that you’ve been awarded your own permanent visitor’s pass, and it allows you to breeze right through security and make a beeline for izuku’s classroom.

he had promised to get off as early as possible today, so the two of you could spend some quality time together.

you hate that you’re almost nervous to see him. it’s not like you really have a reason to be. no crazy lines have been crossed – it’s perfectly acceptable to platonically kiss your friend of several years on the cheek, right?

except that something about it didn’t feel… platonic. being really honest with yourself, you can acknowledge that maybe you kissed katsuki to prove your gut feeling wrong. if you kissed him and felt nothing, then that was that, nothing more to it. but you hadn’t felt nothing.

in fact, you’d distinctly felt something. like a bloom of warmth in your chest that spread into your tummy, through each limb and to the tips of your fingers and toes.

there’s this nasty whisper of guilt churning along with the warm feeling too. you listen to it, let it guide you to the truth.

you feel guilty. you feel guilty because you feel like you crossed a boundary. you feel like you crossed a boundary because… something about that kiss felt like more than friendship. and what about izuku… what would he say if you told him about it? probably nothing. almost certainly nothing. so why does it feel like you’ve done something wrong? maybe because of the way your gut twisted when you got close to katsuki. something about the way he smells, the way his skin feels, the way it made your heart flutter… well, you’re only human, can’t help your body’s reactions.

so then why do you want to chase that feeling?

all these thoughts flood your mind in a rapid succession, and your heart starts to pound as the implications of this realization hit you: for whatever reason, you’ve developed a little crush on your boyfriend’s best friend.

just as you come to this conclusion, you reach the door to izuku’s classroom. there’s no time for you to pause a moment and gather your thoughts, because the last few students are trickling out the open door and izuku sees you from his desk, breaking into a smile and waving.

there’s only time to take a deep breath in, and then let it out. you’ll deal with… whatever it is you’re feeling later, when you’re by yourself and can process through it.

you and izuku chat passively as he finishes up the last of his work, grading a couple of late assignments and answering some emails. true to his word, he finishes much earlier than he usually does.

on the train home, you sit in a comfortable silence, hand wrapped around his arm as you gaze out the window and he fiddles with his phone. he squeezes your leg gently and you glance over at him.

“did we have dinner plans?” he half whispers, gesturing to the map on his screen. it indicates you’ll need to get off soon if you plan on stopping at the store before heading home.

you nod. “we have leftovers from the last time kacchan came over, remember? they’re in the freezer, shouldn’t take too long to heat up.” his face brightens a little bit as he nods, rubbing the same spot on your leg softly, as if to say: alright, you can go back to your window gazing now.

the next few minutes pass quietly, until you notice from the corner of your eye that izuku is analyzing his phone with an intense look on his face.

when you look over, your heart drops into your ass; he’s got katsuki’s instagram pulled up, and one of your comments is at the top of the screen, clear as day. as he swipes through the profile, you notice that he pulls up the comment section on each photo he looks at, although his face doesn’t give any more away.

in fact, as he scrolls, he develops this little smile on his face. when he sees the photo with the cat, he laughs quietly and screenshots it.

turning to face him, you lay your head against his shoulder, peering at his screen with a casual air, trying to make it seem like you haven’t been watching him for the last five minutes. although, you don’t think he even notices you, too engrossed in checking out pictures of katsuki.

“whatcha lookin’ at?” you murmur, calling his attention to you. in reply, he enthusiastically shows you the photo currently on the screen. it’s the same one you’d seen a few weeks prior, with kacchan’s arms all flexed and sweaty, smirk burning your skin through the screen.

izuku’s voice is shaky with the effort he uses to keep it quiet. his excitement is radiating out of him in waves, contagious and frankly, adorable. you want to cup his face and squeeze his cheeks, but instead you just sit and listen as he launches into all of the subtleties of the photo you hadn’t even noticed: how it’s a different version of the hero suit usually kacchan wears, how he’s not wearing his gloves in this photo but he is holding them, how he took a picture of izuku’s hair for the exact shade of green and sent it to his developer, how healed the scars on his arm look.

izuku zooms in with a flick of his fingers, showing you the pale pink marks that curve around his friend’s arm. he’s right, but that’s not what you’re paying attention to, raking your eyes over the bulge of muscles that lie underneath the scars instead.

like he can read your thoughts, he says, “y’know, i think he’s been working out more too.” you quirk an eyebrow, and he seems to take it as an invitation to go on. “kacchan looks so buff in this, don’t you think? or this one–“

as he proceeds to show you several pictures (all of which you’ve already seen) you’re not really paying attention to the photos anymore. you’re focused instead on the man holding the phone.

izuku is beaming, glowing really, when he talks about katsuki. someone who doesn’t know him as well as you do might not be able to see it, but to you he almost appears to be… blushing.

the more you stare, the more you think that he’s definitely flushed, even if it is only slightly. there’s this glimmer in his eyes, and you realize with a start that it feels so familiar because it’s what he looks like when he talks about you.

“–or this, with the cat? babe, did you see this one?” he interrupts your train of thought and you blink, looking back at the photo in his hand.

“i love that one,” you say.

“i think it’s my favorite,” izuku agrees. “he looks so… soft. it’s definitely good for his image and all, but…” he’s looking at katsuki with such gentleness, such adoration, that you feel like your heart skips a beat. “i’m just happy that other people might get to see him how we do, see what he’s really like.”

for some reason, it feels like you might start to cry. you take one of his hands in both of yours, kiss his knuckles before intertwining your fingers. “yeah,” you agree. “our kacchan is a big softy.”

he just presses a kiss to your temple and goes back to his instagram admiring, but you’re done looking for now. you’re afraid if you look at izuku’s face for even a second longer you’re going to burst into tears on this train, and then you’d have some real explaining to do.

later that night, after the two of you have cooked and cleaned and showered and not watched the movie on the tv, you lay in your bed. the lights are off, and your bedroom is shrouded in darkness. it’s good, and with izuku sleeping soundly beside you, it forces you to close your eyes and take deep breaths and think.

having a crush while being in a relationship isn’t unheard of. it isn’t even the end of the world. sometimes feelings can be complicated and that doesn’t mean you have any intention of acting on them.

still, you can’t shake that feeling from the train. every time you think about izuku’s face when he talked about katsuki, a wave of emotions crashes over your head, overwhelming and confusing. some almost sad, twinged with the strangest sense of grief and jealousy.

but mostly? there’s just completely unbridled joy. you feel so overcome with a euphoric sense of jubilation that it fills your cup and runneth over.

tears slip and slide their way down your cheeks now, and you let them.

there aren’t really words for this feeling. it’s like the crushing freedom of recognizing the truth. you want to cling to the past, cling to what you know, cling to what’s comfortable, but deep down you know that you can’t.

it’s like a veil has been lifted, and now everything is so bright and so high definition it hurts your eyes, but god, there’s so much to look at.

you fall asleep like this, swimming in a cocktail of melancholy and exhilaration and fear and curiosity and shame and tears.

and love, too. there’s lots of that in your heart when your eyes finally flutter closed and sleep curls around your mind like a cat, lulling you back to dreamland where your brain can process while your body rests.

this time the dream is different.

you’re alone, in a room and a place you don’t recognize. it’s a house, or maybe an apartment – it’s unclear, everything is fuzzy around the edges.

you’re sitting in a chair in a living room. vaguely, you register an open window, with fresh air filtering in. you stand, moving to run your hands through the undulating curtains, but you’re stopped in your tracks when you hear a sound come from your left.

unaware of it until this moment, you turn to see a hallway, unlit, beckoning. it’s more like a tunnel, and the door the end is closed, just begging for you to open it and find out what’s on the other side. right now in this moment, it feels as though the whole world is waiting for you on the other side, and you’ll stop at nothing to see it. as you drift down the tunnel in almost a trance, you think that your palms might be sweating, but you can’t be sure.

and then one of them rests against the knob, and you pause. lean in, press your ear against the door, and listen.

there’s this familiar cadence, familiar tone and lilt to the voices you hear. what they say isn’t clear, but the occasional moan, or gasp, says it all. a chime of laughter, a gruff chuckle. the sound of panting and skin against skin.

your heart is pounding in your chest and in your clit, and your knees rub together as you listen, body fully against the door now.

you can almost see behind the door, like a flash of light blinking in and out in your mind; see the tongues dancing and hands being pressed down into the pillows; practically hear the breathless little whimpers and taste the sweat and sex on the air and you want to go in, you want to see, you want to touch, and when you hear the name, izuku, tone pleading and wrecked, when you hear that oh so familiar, condescending little hum in response…

your eyes fly open and you shoot straight up in bed, sweating, blood pumping furiously like you’ve just gone for a run. izuku jolts awake beside you, instinctively scanning the room before turning to you and running his hands over your arms to check for signs of injury. once he seems satisfied that you’re physically unharmed, he studies your face; his posture is hunched and he’s holding back a yawn, but his eyes are sharp and alert, trying to trace the source of your unease.

with a gravelly voice still heavy with sleep, he asks, “hey, what’s wrong?”

you press your hand to your chest and rub the spot over your heart, trying to trick it into slowing it’s rapid fluttering. sitting up so fast has disoriented you a little, and you fall back to the mattress, tugging izuku with you and curling into his side. “i jus’ had a dream,” you whisper, “m’okay, sorry.”

turning on his side to face you, he gently pulls you closer and rubs soothing circles into your back as you nestle your head under his chin. face pressed into his chest, you focus on the sound of his heartbeat, letting it lull you into a relaxed state.

it’s starting to feel like your dreams are trying to tell you something. there’s this idea rolling around the line between conscious and subconscious, and you cling to it, coaxing it forward and into the light. a simple concept, really.

the heart wants what it wants.

when you wake the next morning, still wrapped tight in izuku’s loving embrace, you know what you want. you feel a little lightheaded as you finally, truly admit it to yourself.

you have feelings for katsuki. crazy, intense feelings of yearning and longing and all that. real feelings. and you’re pretty sure izuku does, too. maybe you’ve both had them for a while now. and you want, you need… something you don’t know how to define yet.

but first things first, you have to find some way to confirm your suspicions.

when sunday rolls around, you find yourself anxiously anticipating katsuki’s arrival. it’s pretty typical for the three of you to have dinner at the week’s end, but today feels different, or maybe it’s just you who feels different. you flit about, wiping counters that have already been cleaned and sweeping the same part of the floor three times.

“are we expecting royalty this evening?” izuku calls cheekily after your second pass with the vacuum. he’s sitting at the table, poring over a pile of papers he needs graded by tomorrow. you scoff and unceremoniously yank the cord out of the wall, and he chuckles, focus still directed to the work in front of him. “kacchan isn’t that judgmental, what’s going on?”

“i just…” you sigh. pause for a moment to think things through. “i guess i’m just a little… worried.”

he looks up at you then, patting his lap to call you over. his tone is laced with concern when he says, “what are you worried about?”

you cross the room and sit, smoothing your clothes as you perch on the edge of his thigh, and he rolls his eyes, tugging you all the way on to his lap and squeezing your waist gently.

“do you think he ever feels… like, taken advantage of?”

“like… by us?” you nod and izuku loosens his grip on your waist, resting a hand atop your thigh as the other taps his chin. “honestly, i’ve never thought about it. although i guess we are kind of dependent on him sometimes, and we have to consider the fact that we live together so he always ends up coming over here, plus the fact that we don’t have a car and he ends up spending more on gas, and sometimes he has to bring his fancy cooking stuff with him which could be an added hassle…” he looks at you with wide eyes. “gosh, i hope he doesn’t. maybe we should say something tonight.”

you nod again. “yeah, maybe we should. just so he knows how much we care, y’know?”

when katsuki arrives soon after, he seems a little distracted and irritable. you ask him about work and he just grunts in response, and when you lightly kick at his shin and say, “hello, earth to kacchan?”, he starts.

“the hell was that for?”

tilting your head, you say, “you seem a little out of it, are you feeling alright?” when you reach forward to feel his forehead, he lurches away from your hand, nearly smacking against the wall behind him.

“yes woman, you’re being paranoid. go away and let me cook in peace.” is it your imagination, or is there the faintest rouge tickling his neckline?

you try and help him anyway, despite his groans that you’ll mess up his process.

“katsuki bakugou, are you kicking me out of my own kitchen?” you tease, crossing your arms and giving him a playful glare.

despite his sour mood, he cracks a smile and rolls his eyes, shoving your face away with no real fight. “think i cook in this kitchen more than you do,” he argues back. “so yeah, i’m gonna call the shots.”

from the table in the other room, izuku calls, “yeah, kacchan loves to call the shots.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” katsuki barks, and you laugh, hopping up on to the counter and giving up any hopes of making yourself useful. with the look he gives you, you think he really does prefer this, you out of the way and sitting pretty while he works.

he’s still distracted at the table after the meal has been cooked and plated, and he looks downright sick when you and izuku talk to him about how much you appreciate him. you can tell that your boyfriend is concerned, but there’s something in the way that katsuki refuses to look at you both that tells you it’s something deeper that’s bothering him.

it’s not surprising when he abruptly announces his departure.

katsuki has never been a good liar, and it’s obvious his excuses for leaving are just that – excuses. when you close the door behind him, there’s this feeling of anxiety that’s swirling in your chest, like something left unsaid that needs to be heard, trying to claw it’s way out of your windpipe. izuku materializes behind you, and you turn, looking at him imploringly.

“you agree he was being weird, right?”

he nods, then says, “i think i’m gonna go check on him.”

except that he can’t, because a small part of you needs to be alone with katsuki again. clarity is currently a valuable and finite resource, and right now you need it more than izuku does.

“wait – let me. will you get started on cleaning up?” he gives you a wry smile, assuming you’re just trying to avoid the worst of the evening chores, but doesn’t say anything; just kisses your temple and turns towards the kitchen. even though there was no lie, you didn’t even say anything, you feel a little guilty again. it feels like you’re hiding something from him, and you despise the foreign feeling, so used to telling him everything.

still, your inquiring spirit wins out against the discomfort, and you grab a robe and run out the door, down the hallway and the stairs, and around the block. he’s just reaching his car, and you call after him “–katsuki, wait!”

when you stumble to a stop before him, chest heaving with the effort of your brief but furious sprint, he seems to be sizing you up, debating something in his head. one of his hands rests on top of the car, and it’s seriously, unbelievably unfair that he looks like a freaking super model even now, when he supposedly isn’t feeling well. the way his lips are curved into the slightest pout is unbearably endearing, and you find that your breathlessness has another source when he leans over you just slightly, letting his imposing frame hang in your entire field of vision.

when you start to speak, he cuts you off, saying “–hold on–“ before launching into some awkward spiel about charms and his agency and something about his publicist, but you aren’t really listening because you’ve noticed the box in his car, eyes widening when he reaches for it and holds it out to you.

inside rests a bracelet with dynamight charm attached, and you inspect it with awe.

“katsuki...”

he says he basically got it for free but it’s become instantly priceless to you, and you have to fight the sudden urge to wrap your arms around him and never let go. the way he’s looking at you, you wonder if he’s thinking something similar – you’re not sure you’ve ever been the target of such softness from him.

you snap the box shut and shove it in your pocket, too overwhelmed to look at it for even a second longer. it breaks the tension, and he trains his eyes on the ground like he’s afraid you might scold him.

instead, you say, “izuku wanted me to check on you.” the lie passes your lips before you can think twice about it.

what’s even the point of lying about that? you wanted to check on him, too, but it’s like… you can’t stand this being your idea. it feels too vulnerable, too dangerous to admit that you think of him when he’s not around, even if he was just there.

you say your goodbyes when the tension in the air is too thick to tolerate anymore, scurrying back inside. before you return to the kitchen, you slip the bracelet box in your purse hanging by the door. you can show izuku later, for now it feels like a secret gift meant just for you, and you alone.

“everything okay?” izuku’s voice winds down the hall, beckoning you.

“yeah,” you call. “he’s just tired.”

your second attempt of the night to be helpful is once again thwarted when izuku stubbornly refuses to let you help him with the dishes. “please go sit down,” he insists. “you can be my cheerleader, or something. i got it.”

so you watch him, sharing jokes and feeling awfully beloved at this moment in time.

he’s started on making tea when you get an idea, just a small one, a harmless one. it’s inspired by a memory of a conversation you’d somehow forgotten about until now.

“hey izuku?” you ask. he hums in response, not looking up from the cups he’s preparing. “‘member when you said you used to have a crush on kacchan? like when you were younger?”

his head snaps up sharply, like he’s suddenly very interested in your conversation. he looks at you suspiciously. “yes…?”

“and you said you got over it because you were sure he didn’t feel the same way?” you fiddle with your thumbs, trying to appear nonchalant. deciding to change tactics, you lean back with your hands flat against the table and stare him down.

raising his brow slightly, he says “yes baby, why do you ask?”

“what if he did?”

some of the stress visibly drains from izuku’s face, and he cracks a smile. “ohhh, are we playing the rhetorical question game again?”

you snort. “what, i’m not allowed to ask questions?”

izuku finishes pouring the hot water into the pot and sets the kettle down, then crosses the room to wedge himself between your legs. he eyes you for a second before answering. “well, i don’t know… but he didn’t, so… it’s kind of a moot point, right?”

“i guess….” you say, intentionally trailing off. “like, do you think we would still be together? if you had known about something like that?”

it feels a little unfair, manipulating izuku in this way. sure, it’s pretty harmless; you only brought up something the two of you have already discussed. still, you already know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it, know exactly the right way to soften him up before planting the seed of an idea in his mind.

“aww, babe. i would search for you in any universe, in any lifetime. every part of me is constantly yearning for you, and i would do anything to make you mine. you know that, right? it’s important to me that you know that.”

even if you knew he was going to say it, or something like it, izuku’s sappy romanticism makes your heart sing. somehow, his cliched declarations of love and loyalty melt you into a puddle each and every time.

“yeah,” you say with a timid smile. “of course. and me too, just for the record–“

bracing himself against the table, he leans into your space and looks down at you with hungry eyes. they’re cloudy in a way that tells you you’re starting to lose him a little; it’s time to wrap it up.

it’s fine, you said everything you needed to, and his caging arms are becoming particularly distracting. your body responds to izuku like an instrument in the hands of a practiced musician; reaching out, you grip his bicep, then lazily run your hand up and down his arm, tracing the lines of scar tissue with your fingers. it’s no accident that his muscles are on display for you now. you’ve never been subtle with your ogling of his exquisite form, and he knows exactly how to entice you, having memorized the subtle movements that get you right where he wants you. right now it’s like he’s practicing scales, warming you up for a real performance.

you’re nearly tunnel visioned for your boyfriend, but there’s something that’s keeping you from getting completely lost in his verdant eyes, something tugging at the back of your mind. it’s like a familiar sound, although you can’t place where you’ve heard it before.

for half a second, your eyes flicker to the window, registering how it’s open, and you recognize the familiar curve of a black sedan parked outside… but before you can think about it too hard, izuku is distracting you again.

he exhales a little huff and curves his neck down until his nose nearly touches yours. “my love,” he breathes “are you going somewhere with this?”

a shiver runs down your spine. you’re just about ready to give in and let him get his hands on you and make some real music, but you just have one more question.

“i just… like, what if you found out he had a crush on you now?”

“all i know for certain is that i’m with you, and that’s never going to change.” he ghosts your jaw with his lips, gently nipping at your earlobe. “is that all?”

after a nearly imperceptible nod from you, he pulls back just enough to make eye contact.

“can we have sex now?”

the last dream of your trilogy as good as confirms your suspicions.

it’s that same night, after you washed izuku’s hair in the shower and he carried you to bed.

you’ve had plenty of sex dreams about him. most of them are about him, actually, like you can’t get enough, even while you’re asleep. and this one feels no different… you’re perched in his lap, pawing at his pants like a cat in heat, trying to loose his cock so you can beg him to use it.

no different until you feel a second set of hands curl around your biceps, pulling you back and flush with a muscled chest.

“greedy little thing, aren'tcha?” katsuki observes, turning your head so he can see your face. you can feel izuku press against you from the other side, so you’re completely enveloped by larger bodies, and trapped between them you feel like a mouse in a cage with nowhere to run. the only difference is you want to be the subject of their experimenting, want them to use you however they see fit.

“i-i, uhm–“

“don’t lie,” izuku interrupts. his tone is smooth like honey but his words are carry another undertone, one that reminds you what happens when you lie. he shares a condescending look with katsuki as you fumble in your head for the right words to say.

“i-i want… what i want?” you finish, voice lilting in question at the end.

katsuki snorts. “wow, d’you come up with that yourself? really specific.” he uses his grip on your arms to turn you to face him. you’re perched on your knees between the two men, palms pressed into katsuki’s thighs for support as izuku shifts suspiciously behind you. “sorry sweetheart, but right now i think right now we’re gonna do what i want.”

“w-wait, what’re you–“ you start, but falter when you feel a hand press into the back of your head, not pushing per se, but guiding your gaze down, down, down.

“y’know what i want?” izuku’s voice is a siren song in your ear, and you try to look at him, but katsuki’s grip on your chin and izuku’s palm on your head keep you facing forward. “i think i want you to help kacchan feel good… can you do that?”

you lift your eyes to katsuki’s piercing red ones and gulp when a shiver runs through you, the pulsing between your legs growing stronger with every heartbeat. he’s looking at you with blown pupils and slightly parted lips, like he’s not even sure how he got himself in this position but he’ll be damned if he’s going to waste the opportunity.

there’s a gleam in your eye when you slide your hands higher up his legs. he feels impossibly big beneath your fingers, which splay across the tensed muscles of his upper thigh. looping a few fingers around his belt, you tug on it, not enough to take it off, just enough to tantalize. the set of his jaw is offset by the desperate look in his eyes, which flit between you and izuku behind you.

you start to slide the belt undone, movements painfully slow, feeling watched from every angle. the throbbing in your core is enough to send a trickle of sweat down your back; if you don’t get some attention, and fast, you fear you may combust on the spot.

“yeah,” you murmur, meek but determined. you flit your eyes up to katsuki’s one more time before unbuttoning his jeans, biting your lip when you get a look at what’s inside.

his boxers are forming an angled tent, the front damp and sticky from the pre that’s gushing from his tip. you let out a quivering breath and lean closer, not touching yet, just inspecting. everything feels slow and warm and unhurried as you stare, learning the slight curvature of his dick through the clothing. when you slide your fingers into his waistband to test something, he lets out the shakiest groan and bucks his hips a little.

“if you just sit an’ stare for any longer you might as well take a picture,” he mutters, and you smirk.

“really? izuku, hand me my–“

“christ,” katsuki huffs, and izuku chuckles behind you.

“later, later, c’mon baby. focus, okay?”

so you do, finally tugging the waistband down and letting his veiny cock spring free. it slaps against his lower stomach – you and izuku simultaneously react with small little gasps.

“so pretty…” he coos as you gather the glob of saliva pooling in your mouth, leaning down and spitting, watching as the slick lands right on target and cascades down his length in little rivulets. behind you, izuku hums in approval.

some of your spit sticks to your lip, and katsuki moves like he means to wipe it off, choosing instead to smear it around your face with a slight sneer, which grows even wider when a whimper escapes your lips. you relish in the feeling of his thumb applying gentle pressure, and while he’s got you occupied, izuku pulls your panties down without grace, just enough to expose the slick mess between your legs.

you finally lean down, settling your hands tentatively on katsuki’s legs to support yourself, and speculatively lick the sticky, salty pre and spit from his tip. he moans, puts his hand on your head like part of him wants to force it down but he doesn’t, just let’s it rest there without pressure as you take your time opening up for him.

slowly, slowly, you finally part your pretty lips and run your tongue down the underside of his shaft, taking him fully in your mouth. it’s disorienting, adjusting to his particular girth and length, tip hitting the back of your throat far sooner than you’d anticipated. you gag a little, saliva pooling, and feel his cock twitch against the inside of your cheek.

“good fuckin’ girl,” he exhales, finally applying just that little bit of pressure to keep you choking for just a second longer, grunting with pleasure when a few tears prick the corners of your eyes. izuku coos in your ear and rubs soothingly at your lower back, before he presses into it, like he’s asking you to arch.

they seem to be on some mission to overwhelm you; as katsuki holds you down, izuku pulls your hips up and into the air, spreading your legs just a little bit so he can wedge his face between them. the steeper angle forces you to lower your hands down to either side of katsuki’s hips, and he grips at your hair to help guide your head.

izuku licks a long line up your slit from behind, causing you to moan without restraint; the reverberations rattle through katsuki’s bones and he can’t help but buck his hips one more time. it sends a fresh wave of tears cascading down your cheeks.

when you slide off his cock, it’s with a loud, squelching pop – just for a second, so you can catch your breath. you pause, mind reeling as izuku focuses attention on your pretty little hooded bundle of nerves that’s been begging to be touched. only when katsuki’s thumb traces along your scalp do you refocus, locking eyes with him and sinking down again. hollowing your cheeks as he helps you strike a steady pace. everything is too much but it’s so good: katsuki’s fingers are tugging on your hair, and your breaths come short and quick. everything feels hazy as your brain goes a little dumb, the lack of oxygen going straight to your cunt.

izuku fucks you with his tongue, groaning into you when you clench around it. your pussy is soaked, each of his movements resulting in lewd, creamy sounds as he drinks up every drop of arousal you have to give. getting lost in the sensations, your pleasure coils tight in your gut, making every muscle contract and every nerve scream.

time, and your perception of it, are skewed. somehow, everything feels stretched to last hours, in this position, always kept right on the edge but never crossing the line into oblivion. your nails digging into skin, your muscles all locked with unspent release, as you’re kept perched… on the edge…. and the edge and the edge and the edge…

slowly, you start to shift back into the land of consciousness.

the first thing you register is how impossibly warm you feel, heat pooling between your thighs and burning you from the inside out.

next, the position you’re in: one leg is hiked higher than the other, dangling over izuku’s shoulder and held in place gently by one of his strong hands; the other is curled around his back, his head practically resting against the meat of it, settled comfortably in between the two.

third, the way he pulls away from your lapping at your messy cunt as he finally coaxes you from sleep, one of his hands reaching for one of yours, grounding you, calling your attention and focus to him.

“morning, sweetheart,” he mumbles, planting teasing kisses along your inner thigh.

you shift and squirm with the blinding, all consuming need to cum. there’s no telling how long izuku has had to work you up; for such a large and strong man, his touch can be so achingly gentle. everything in you is coiled tight like a rubber band that’s about to snap.

“please,” you plead, and he squeezes your hand, then lets it go, bringing it down to slide one finger into your needy cunt. it glides in with no resistance, and he clicks his teeth, always so fascinated with the way you suck him right in each and every time. a second finger follows after the first slides in so easily, and he curls them, pushing at the fluttering walls of your pussy, tugging a shaky sigh from your lips.

when he attaches his mouth to your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue, your thighs squeeze around his ears and your back starts to arch off the mattress. sleep is still lingering in the edges of your vision, so you squeeze your eyes shut and tangle your fingers in his hair. when he nips at your clit, it precipitates your orgasm; gasping his name, you cum on his fingers as they graze against that extra sensitive, spongy spot inside of you that always makes your toes clench.

you're panting with an arm over your eyes when he lovingly places a little kiss right on your clit, before sliding up your underwear and emerging from underneath the covers, hair all tousled and face flushed. he gives you a toothy grin, grabby hands moving up and down your sides.

you tug him up and kiss him, tasting your own arousal on his tongue. smirking a little, you rake your hands through his curls, messing them up even more. “good morning, izuku.”

he just laughs, kissing you again and nestling into your neck, inhaling deeply and letting out a little sigh.

as you lay there, skin still prickled with heat, your mind spins, turning the dream over and over and over. if you had doubts about what it is you really want before, they’re all gone now.

you move through the rest of the morning in a slight daze, going through the motions and thinking about your dream the whole time. it’s burned behind your retinas, demanding to be noticed every time you look at izuku’s face.

for the rest of the week, it’s practically the only thing you can think about. you’re on edge, all jumpy and tense.

one morning, you and izuku grab coffee before work. without thinking about it, you wear your new bracelet, metal cool against the skin on your wrist beneath your sleeve. you shift your arm, and the chain catches the light.

when the barista notices it, you freeze, suddenly feeling caught in an omission of the truth. you know izuku notices your strange reaction, know he notices your over the top recovery when you emphasize how it was a gift from your boyfriend’s friend.

he’s heard you call katsuki your friend many times over, so why was he suddenly just izuku’s friend?

you could talk to him about it. you should talk to him about it… but truth be told, after your dream, you’ve been needy and tunnel visioned, and the only thoughts that linger in your mind are wicked ones. the more you think and ponder everything, the more things you’ve noticed, little interactions that seemed like nothing at the time and suddenly hold more weight in this new light.

the three of you are like a powder keg just waiting to explode – the only needed now is a spark.

“i wanna go to the beach,” you announce.

izuku glances up at you from his position on the floor. he has student profiles and personal notes he’s taken sprawled over the floor, poring over them carefully to sort them based on quirk type. when he’s done, each student will have an individual quirk improvement plan for their summer break. so izuku, always so thoughtful and just a little overkill.

“that sounds like fun,” he agrees, leaning back against your legs when you tug on one of his curls. “hm?”

“when is your next full day off?” you ask, reaching for your phone. “we should make a day trip out of it. i have some time off saved up, so i can probably go whenever…” you start to craft a text, typing furiously as izuku thinks for a second.

he looks down at the work in front of him. “if i get these done before next weekend, maybe we could go then.” you’re still typing when he stops talking, finally hitting send on the following:

you: take next saturday off? :) we wanna go to the beach

“hey,” izuku says, turning to rest his arm on your legs. “do you think that will work?”

you start, looking up from your screen and clicking it off. he glances down, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly, but he just tilts his head at you. “yes,” you breathe. “and... i invited kacchan. is that okay?”

“yeah, of course,” he says like it's obvious, turning around again. in your lap, your phone buzzes once, then twice. you open it.

you: take next saturday off? :) we wanna go to the beach kacchan: done kacchan: i will pick you up

saturday goes better than you could have anticipated. you’ve put yourself in the perfect position, an abundance of eye candy to enjoy while you lounge on the sand.

when izuku gets clearly flustered and awkwardly excuses himself with an obvious lie about filling his water bottle, you and katsuki sit in an awkward silence. it stretches for a long moment, too long, before you both can’t take it and start speaking at once.

“i–"

“so-"

cutting yourselves off, the two of you fall silent once more. the more you refuse to address the elephant in the room, avoiding each other’s eyes and, in your case, distracting yourself with the sand on the beach, the more unbearable the tension in the air becomes. it’s stifling, making the sun beating down from above feel hotter, brighter. eventually you just can’t take it anymore.

“he’s not really filling his water bottle,” you manage.

“obviously,” katsuki replies, glancing in the direction izuku scurried off, then back at you. his expression is serious, focused. the double entendre in his words is not missed on you when he says, “so... why’s he so worked up?”

why is izuku so worked up? you’re not a mind reader, so there’s no way to know for sure... but izuku’s probably the most observant person you've ever met. he’s definitely been keeping mental tabs of your unexplained behavior over the last month or so, and if you had to take a stab at it, you’d guess he just pieced at least part of the puzzle together.

with his eyes boring holes into the side of your face, it feels safe to assume that katsuki is or has been piecing little things together on his own.

“it’s probably… my fault.” you admit, with caution. “i’m… i don’t have a very good poker face.”

he quirks a brow, leaning on one of his arms to span a little of the very intentional distance between your bodies. “poker face?” your heart is pounding in your chest as you stare him down, refusing to be the one to break eye contact. his lip curls into a mean little smirk. “what have you got to hide?”

you flush, heat rising in your cheeks as you break, looking away and out over the water. “nothing.”

katsuki doesn’t reply, just sucks his teeth and stands. “gonna make sure deku wasn’t kidnapped or somethin’” he says, jabbing his thumb in izuku’s direction. he starts to strut away when you feel a wave of anxiety.

“wait, katsuki–”

he turns over his shoulder to smile at you. “everything is gonna be fine,” he says, sounding calm and collected, almost serene. he shakes his head at your pained expression.

as he continues away, you can hear him grumbling about paranoia and dramatics, and it makes you smile.

your smile grows even bigger a few minutes later when you see them heading back towards you on the beach.

right away, you can practically smell the tension. they stand just slightly too far apart, with katsuki’s hands shoved deep into his pockets. his face carries a wistful expression, and something about it makes him look… younger. harder.

what happened in that bathroom?

your half baked plan working feels almost too good to be true, but it feels true when they sit down on either side of you. both sit close, closer than earlier and maybe closer than they should, and they keep sneaking knowing glances over your head like they think you can’t see, only of course you can see.

you know that feeling in your chest right before a storm? the wind picks up, the scent of petrichor is rich on the air waves and a distant rumble of thunder rolls across the sky… these are the signs. but the feeling, like you want to hide and run into the thick of it at the same time, like you want to witness the way the force of nature rattles the world around you, but you’re scared... this feeling courses through you now, and curiosity burns in your gut right along side apprehension.

the feeling lingers the rest of the day, and amplifies on the car ride home. you all sit in relative silence, with you gazing out the window in the front seat and izuku watching anxiously from the back. katsuki’s eyes stay locked on the road ahead of him, jaw set in a line that refuses to budge.

when he drops you and izuku off at your apartment, it’s with few words. you want to spill your guts so badly, but you know that you need to talk to izuku first. the two of you owe it to each other.

bags dropped by the door, you turn to each other right away.

you go first. “i have to tell you something–“

“i think you have feelings for kacchan and i think i do too,” izuku blurts out, covering his mouth with both hands as soon as the words are uttered. his eyes are wide and brimmed with shiny tears that threaten to spill over as you open your mouth to speak, and then close it again.

then you laugh. it starts small, then bubbles out of your throat, uncontrollable laughter that causes your own tears to leak from your eyes. until this moment, you hadn’t realized how tightly wound you’ve been. all at once, the stress and tension melt from your body and you laugh in relief and cry as izuku starts to laugh, too.

you reach for him, and he pulls you close, sinking to the ground while you both just sit with the overwhelming mix of emotions that fill the room.

“well... that’s what i was going to say,” you finally manage after several minutes, and it sets you both off again, more laughter and more tears and soon you’re going over the timeline of events and sharing things you’ve never said out loud before.

it’s late into the night, and you’ve both ridden a rollercoaster of emotion. now though, you’re settled into a somewhat comfortable silence, everything finally laid out in the open. there’s only one thing that’s missing.

“we should call him,” you murmur into the quiet air of the apartment. you’re perched in izuku’s lap, head tucked into his chest. he hums.

“or we could invite him over.”

you glance at him. “you think he’s still awake?” he shrugs.

“can’t hurt to try.”

so you pull out your phone, thumb trembling slightly as you pull up a group chat with three names. you look at izuku again. “you type first.” he nods, swallowing thickly.

izuku <3: hey you: are you up?

maybe thirty seconds have passed when both of your phones buzz.

kacchan: i’m on my way over.

٠࣪⭑ a/n: part 4 is half way done and i'm gonna spoil it! it's straight up smut hehe. let me know what guys think of this part! as always, reblogs and comments are most appreciated! taglist :3 @shotorizawa @hachikinss @lonelyfooryouonly @yandereei @veryveryhigh @heelsonhellish @wham-stars @girlyglues @kodzubaby (to join you must be over 18, age in bio and following me!)

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