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The sunlight hitting Eijiro’s face rouses him from sleep. He silently wished he could have stayed under longer- the midnight trip all the way from the other side of the country after his Mission aboard the Oki Mariner was a rough one.
Still, seeing the sleep-blissed face of his heavily pregnant Mate helped silence any qualms Eijiro had about forgetting to make sure the curtains were properly closed. Izuku’s green hair was tousled from bed head, his face serene and blissful with sleep, the dark circles from needing to deal with a classful of future Heroes receding by the minute.
Eijiro feels a groan bubble up from his chest, all dreams quickly fleeing and replaced with the senses of their room - the warmth of the sunlight against his skin, the scent of their laundry detergent in the pillowcases, of the eucalyptus in Izuku’s shampoo. His arms, wrapped around the expanse of Izuku’s torso, hands spread and cradling against the swell of his stomach, caressing the divots of stretch marks and scars along the otherwise smooth expanse of skin.
Eijiro grips tighter, pulling the smaller man closer to him, nuzzling his nose into the mop of green hair, nosing along at his leisure to bathe in Izuku’s sleep-laden scent.
Izuku stirs under Eijiro’s ministrations, shoulders rolling and hands sliding down to cover Eijiro’s own, resting warmly on top and matching the splay of fingers. Digits, swollen with fluid and the weight of being well-loved and with child, weave between Eijiro’s thicker ones without hesitation.
“Morning, Eicchan,” Izuku purrs, voice raspy with disuse and sleep. He drags in a deep breath, chest and stomach expanding with the movement, and exhales, the sigh high-pitched and reedy as his muscles clench and relax. The movement rolls through Eijiro’s body too, skin pressed together along the length of their bodies, blurring the line between where one starts and the other ends.
Eijiro makes an affirming noise against the crown of Izuku’s hair. “G’morning, baby,” he replies, voice rolling over like an engine rumble, “I missed you.”
Izuku pushes himself back against the line of Eijiro’s body at that, smile gracing his lips.
“ Good,” Izuku speaks, his tone clear and decisive as a knife. “Because I want you,” he tells Eijiro, and it feels like an order. It is an order.
Izuku rolls his hips backwards, his body telling Eijiro’s own the plan as though the words had not. The Alpha growls, anticipation like a shot of adrenaline despite the haze of sleep that crowds the corners of his vision.
“I always want you, Izu,” Eijiro whispers, fingertips drawing patterns without plan across his skin across his Mate’s stomach before dragging it languidly back to rest on the greenette’s hip.
“Yeah, yeah, big guy,” Izuku dismisses, the smile and affection in his voice revealing his flippant words, “instead of talking, why don’t you show me?”
Oh, god, Eijiro loves this man.
His eyes widen, always impressed at the forwardness Izuku displays in bed and retracts his arm from under Izuku. Slowly, but not too slowly, he pushes to crowd the Omega beneath him and reposition so he can drape himself over Izuku’s prone form.
The sunlight bounces off Izuku’s skin, the kisses of pink lines frame the curves of his body, accentuated in the warmth of the morning light. Green eyes rake over Eijiro’s body, dark lashes outlining them, taking in every one of the details he might have missed during their week apart. A new scratch, a new scar, a new feature to map across the greatest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of touching.
Eijiro does the same. Izuku’s cheeks are a little chubbier than in past months, rosy with the warmth of the morning light and the anticipation of what’s to come. His lips are bruised dark from the night prior, cupid’s bow deep like Marianas trench, tear streaks from pleasure gone but not forgotten.
Eijiro is overwhelmed with the want, the desire, the need to kiss his Mate and steal his breath away.
So he does. He leans down, eating up any semblance of space between them. It’s stale with sleep, warm and wet for a moment, before capturing before they’re slotting together as a perfect pair. Izuku sighs into it, cupping his Alpha’s jaw with the hand furthest from him. Izuku’s tongue taunts, teasing licks to the thickness of Eijiro’s bottom lip before pulling away. Heavy lids look into the redhead’s eyes, hazed with sleep but wide with anticipation, a smirk curling up the corners of his mouth.
“Get to work for me, hmm?” Izuku asks, all too sweet and innocent for what Eijiro knows Izuku wants. Dexterous fingertips are like lightning strikes against tan skin, blunt fingernails trailing red lines up and down strong biceps. Eijiro nods, the desire to prove his love, his devotion to Izuku unending. Izuku, his omega, his, has given him everything he could ever want and more- now heavy with the swell of a child proving his possession of Izuku and Izuku’s possession of Eijiro.
The Alpha feels his cheeks redden at the thought and is thankful the room is already warm in the morning sunlight.
“Of course, Izu,” Eijiro replies, voice unwavering despite the desire that he feels on his tongue threatening to slur his speech. He leans back, returning to his position pressed down on Izuku’s body- and for a moment lets himself get lost in the feeling of Izuku’s soft, plump rear against his quickly hardening cock. Eijiro rolls his hips against the pillowy flesh, once, twice, before stilling himself. This is about Izuku, not himself.
“You can’t lie on your back right now,” Eijiro reminds him, rolling to lie flat on his own back instead. It’s a pathetic ruse, albeit it a true one, but he wants Izuku to ride his face - to feel his Omega take, take, take what he wants until he can’t anymore.
He feels Izuku push himself up, a little sway to the movement as he heaves himself to sit, the swell of his stomach in the way to block Eijiro’s sight from the prize between his legs. As he rises to his knees, Eijiro takes a moment to watch Izuki’s body, to drink him in, to savour the vision.
The once bony juts of his hips are softened with padding. His ass, always beautiful, perfect to be smothered by, is even plumper than before. His arms, previously corded and muscular, are more pillowy. The curve of his spine is no longer visible. Even from his angle Eijiro can see the swell of Izuku’s chest, heavy and full.
He looks fucking perfect.
Eijiro would be lying if he didn’t say that Izuku looked good like this. He’d never try to keep Izuku barefoot and pregnant- he has a life and a career and students he loves teaching. Eijiro would never force him to give it away, the last six months of mandatory maternity leave were already cause for enough tears…
But Izuku, round and swollen with his pups? Full and well-fed and filled out in all the right places? Physically showing how well-cared for and doted-on he is like this, bearing Eijiro’s mating bite? It’s a dream that he doesn’t want to wake up from and his instincts sing with the promise that his Mate is happy.
“Help me over?” Izuku asks, holding a hand towards Eijiro as he balances on his knees. They’re already extended, waiting for Izuku to take their embrace. They slide together like every part of them already has, it’s a perfect fit, radiating home and safety in ways scent alone cannot.
“Forwards or backwards?” Izuku wonders aloud. Eijiro isn’t sure if it’s a vocalization of thoughts or an actual question, so he chooses the safer answer.
“Yes.”
Isuku snorts at him, a gentle swat at Eijiro’s side, and Izuku motions for his Alpha to shuffle down the bed so he can straddle his face.
“Okay,” Izuku says. He hesitates, unsure of his body in its current state. Eijiro sees this, and sits up to meet him.
“Hold onto me,” he instructs, “let me help you.” Izuku does without question, already raising his other hand to grasp them together as Eijiro moves down further along the mattress. Eijiro momentarily misses the ghost of heat along the length of his still-clothed bulge, but all thoughts rush away as he hefts Izuku up by the thighs and gets to hear a delightful little squeak from his Omega at the shift in weight.
Izuku braces his hands against the headboard, face disappearing from over the swell of his belly as Eijiro gets an eyeful of how soaked Izuku is through his sleep-pants. The patch of wetness is spreading, widening, filling all of Eijiro’s senses with the smell of eucalyptus and mint and Omega.
“Gonna treat me right, Eicchan?” Izuku murmurs, voice still thick with sleep, rolling his hips down to shake and tease his Alpha until hot hands wind themselves around his thighs and grip the fabric hard.
“‘Course I will.” Eijiro replies huskily, eyes dark with hunger. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as they dart over the pink flush of Izuku’s nipples, the tiger stripes of skin across his stomach, the dark hair that trails from his navel down below the waistband.
“Then do it, Alpha.” Izuku orders- and Eijiro is a weak, weak man. He can’t resist such a demand.
Eijiro slides his tongue up and over the cooling fabric, wetting it further with his saliva as the tease of his tongue makes Izuku gasp above him, thighs already shaking from the stimulation. Eijiro smiles at such a reaction from so little attention- as if the last night he spent pounding Izuku into the mattress didn’t even happen. His cock twitches at the memory, of the feeling of Izuku wrapped around him and squeezing as he cried through another orgasm, and Eijiro growls low in his throat as he pushes his lips up against the cloth-covered expanse of Izuku’s core.
Eijiro slides his palms across the bones under Izuku’s pants and skin, rubs them over exposed sides and dips them below the elastic. He can feel the heat radiate off Izuku, smell the arousal his Omega feels, see the morning light glisten off the sweat gathering on his shoulders.
“Mine,” Eijiro growls, eyes glued to the way Izuku’s whole body shudders at the word, “all mine.”
“Y-yours,” Izuku hiccups, bracing himself for what will come next.
Eijiro won’t say he’s ever been the type of Alpha to aggressively demand obedience from his Mate, especially when Izuku gave into his submissive instincts so easily, but he can’t deny the instinctual howl of satisfaction as he hears Izuku gasp and whine at the loss of his clothing. A simple motion of hardening his arms and pulling causes the soft pants to tear along the inside seam and elastic to snap- ripped asunder alongside the boxers Izuku stole from him to wear after their romp last night. He’s panting, keening at the display of dominance, and Eijiro’s Alpha barks at him to do his job.
Eijiro dives in, hands wrapping back around plush thighs and pull Izuku down against his face. He drinks like a dying man at a desert oasis, licking a stripe up the center of Izuku, laving over his cunt with broad swipes of his tongue. Eijiro feels the way his cheeks wet with it, feels the way it cools on his nose, the way it makes his hair damp and stick against his neck as thick rivulets of it trail down his chin. All missed opportunities to taste his Omega, all the more reason to double- triple his efforts.
Eijiro’s cock twitches again as he gets the first taste of his Omega, threatening to burst from his pants from how hard he’s become. His own precum is probably pooling and making a similarly stained mess, but he can’t lift his hands away from Izuku’s thighs long enough to free himself- so a mess he’ll have to make. His knot throbs incessantly, eager to pop and tie inside of Izuku as if he could fuck another heavy litter into his greenette Mate, make him rounded and fuller and more beautiful somehow.
Eijiro points his tongue, swirling it around where the slick escapes, letting it pool in his mouth and drink greedily. Izuku gives as much as Eijiro wants and then some- jolting at each press of Eijiro’s tongue as it breaches before he finally sinks lower. The feeling of Izuku pushing down against his mouth, pressing against his nose, his chin, giving Eijiro no means of escape as he’s surrounded by Izuku, Izuku, Izuku. He eagerly licks back up to reward, making each stutter of Izuku’s hips all the more pleasurable.
“A-ah, fuck, Eiji-” Izuku sings above him, knuckles turning white against the headboard. He throws his head back, looking to the ceiling as if it could offer any reprieve from the Alpha desperately trying to drown between his thighs.
Eijiro brings his right hand to the mess that’s spread down his chin and Izuku’s thighs, gathering the slick in the palm of his hand. It’s cold in the air, and he feels the way the air kisses the glistening fluid as he wrenches his hand down to his aching cock, begging for attention in his pants. He rips them off, literally, before fisting along his shaft with wild, fast strokes to match the movements of his tongue. The glide is perfect, cooling in the air as he moves to the base before sliding back up to tease his own head, thumbing the weeping slit and gathering precum to mingle their scents together in his most intimate place.
Eijiro eats Izuku up like it’s his last meal. He feels pride swell in his chest and explode like a firework each time Izuku gasps his name. It comes out as a growl, rolling up his throat like a low symphony of praise, crescendoing against Izuku’s hole as it twitches against him. Izuku keens as Eijiro wraps his vibrating lips around his clit and sucks, hollowing his cheeks, kissing and massaging the engorged bud.
“F-fuck, c’mon Alpha,” Izuku stutters, “this pup of yours is heavy, e-eat me like you mean it.”
Izuku’s words send a freight train of possessive instincts through Eijiro. His kid. His Mate. All of it, his. He fucked Izuku, rolled his cock deep into the tight heat of the Omega and buried his cum deep into him, promising to make him fat with the swell of their baby. Eijiro make their base scents indistinguishable so that everyone would know who Izuku belonged to, who he belonged to.
Eijiro comes up for air, dizzy with breathlessness and lust, by pressing a flat lick up the swell of the underside of Izuku’s clit. Swirling his tongue, pointed now, around in tight circles before sliding back down to stretch his Omega open. Eijiro listens to the breath that Izuku hisses out- he knows his lover, knows he’s rolling his bottom lip beneath his teeth, bitten and bruised, even if he can’t see it over the swell of his stomach.
He knows Izuku looks fucking ethereal like this.
Eijiro growls- his Izuku’s pregnant stomach, carrying the child that he put there by fucking him like no one else had. The growl that rolls through his chest rumbles between his lips, the vibrations settling against Izuku’s core.
“E-Eiji, God,” Izuku stutters, the whimper falls from his lips, spilling like a chorus of choir hymns. His hips jolt, grinding into the pleasure. “Feels, s-so good,” he hiccups, purposefully thrusting against Eijiro’s mouth and chasing the high. A whine coils through Izuku, meeting with his overwhelming purr in equal measure.
Eijiro’s heart soars, fire in his veins, and drinks down everything he’s offered. His fist is a blur, the heaviness of his scent flooding the room until every surface stinks of sex and satisfaction. Izuku wails, body curling in on itself as he braces against the headboard and Eijiro feels two sets of fingers thread themselves through his hair. They grip the red, unstyled locks and keep him there so Izuku can hump his face and slide over his open, willing mouth.
Eijiro is lightheaded from it all, from being a plaything, a sentient toy for Izuku to use. His scalp aches with the strength of Izuku’s grip, the scratch of his nails against the skin. If he looks then he can catch the tiny emerald sparks dancing across Izuku’s skin as the pleasure makes embers stoke into a roar. It’s not his Full Cowling, not One for All- but it’s a reminder of how strong Izuku is, how strong he’s always been.
Eijiro chokes his cock in his grasp, holding tight at the base and squeezing at his growing knot, ignoring the way he feels the walls of the dam of pleasure built up cracking under the weight of Izuku riding his tongue.
“Fuck, that’s it, Alpha,” Izuku whimpers, fucking Eijiro mouth, riding his face like the plaything he is. “So good to me, so good,” he slurs, the words rolling together, each syllable warping together closer and closer as he reaches the peak of Nirvana and falls over it like a creating wave.
Eijiro is drunk on all that Izuku is - his beauty, the long length of his legs that bracket his skull, the swell of his stomach, the way his voice cracks and peaks with his whimpers, how he lets Eijiro lead until he’s too worked up, too high in the throes of their lovemaking to let anything except pleasure matter.
Eijiro buries his tongue as deep as it will go, letting Izuku fuck himself on the wriggling thing, hot as a brand. Eijiro’s right hand, still dragging along the length of his own cock, adjusts until he’s rubbing at his slit with his calloused palm, coaxing himself into oversensitivity to match his Mate.
“C-come on, so close, let me cum- let me cum- let me cum!” Izuku begs, words spilling out of his mouth like a broken faucet.
Eijiro redoubles his efforts, his chin and throat drenched with slick, slurping Izuku down like he’s the only thing tethering him to this world. Izuku’s clit twitches, spasms of pleasure getting closer together with each swallow against his center. The pressure builds, reaching a crescendo, Izuku wails searing into the record of Eijiro brain as they climb higher and higher.
“Fuck, fuck, fu- uh ,” Izuku sings, voice hiccuping through the hymn when the pleasure snaps like a rubber band, his control shattering like glass. His clit twitches against Eijiro’s nose, his insides rhythmically pulsing on Eijiro’s tongue. The grinding into Eijiro’s mouth comes to a halt as he rides the pleasure instead of Eijiro’s face.
His hole contracts and relaxes, over and over, wetness pouring in waves over Eijiro’s chin and neck to drench the pillowcase beneath him, covering Eijiro in the scent of his Omega. Eijiro helps him through it, gently licking the expanse of soft flesh in flat, slow motions, swallowing down his prize as he goes.
Eijiro’s right-hand slides along the length of his own cock, milking himself, feeling the walls of the dam beginning to buckle. His mind is filled with Izuku, Izuku, Izuku- his every sense is drenched in the Omega’s scent. He is driven like a dog in heat, the sight of his lover overwhelmed with the pleasure that he gave, that he controlled, that only he can give, overwhelming him too. Eijiro feels the steady pressure in his nethers, feels the softness of his lover in his mouth, the tang of his essence, the way Izuku’s thighs shake against his ears, and he feels himself break under the weight of it all.
The rubber band holding him together snaps, lets loose, and Eijiro growls with it, the vibrations fed straight into Izuku’s center where he swallows him down. His cock spills, ropes of hot seed landing against his abdomen, messy and distorted by the way he tugs himself through the peak of his high. It alights every nerve in his body, leaving lightning in its wake, like a force of nature in his body that he’s helpless to fight against. His mouth turns slack against Izuku, too many nerves firing to focus on the movements of his tongue, broken grunts tumbling out, until he’s left panting hot breaths against Izuku’s thigh.
Izuku’s hips give an aborted jerk as the last of the tremors leave, the torrent slowing to a trickle, and he backs up just enough so that tear-filled green eyes meet with wide, dilated red.
Eijiro smiles toothily, blissed out beyond belief, and presses a kiss to Izuku’s thigh. Izuku rests back on his shins and against Eijiro’s chest, the wetness cools against the Alpha’s sternum. Eijiro’s left hand, still holding Izuku’s leg, slides down the length of his thigh instead, petting the skin and scar as it goes. His right comes to mirror the movement on the other thigh, uncaring about anything except how the action spreads his scent over Izuku.
Eijiro’s gaze falls over the swell of Izuku’s stomach and chest, up the long line of his throat, flushed with exertion and pleasure, to Izuku’s freckled face. A soft smile, content, rests on his features, his eyes heavy. Izuku mirrors the look, admiring his handiwork. Izuku’s hand comes to Eijiro’s jaw, cupping it in and thumbing over his stubble.
“You did so well, thank you,” he murmurs, corners of his lips curling at the edges as he breathes the words.
And, oh, doesn’t Eijiro feel it. His hair is wet with sweat and slick, sticking to his neck and forehead. His lungs burn from being drowned in his lover, unable to swallow enough oxygen while he swallowed Izuku down. His neck aches from tilting his chin up, his jaw aches from the movement, his tongue aches from its service. Inside and out, he is a record of having loved and been loved by Izuku.
“As much as I would love to cuddle, I really think we need to clean up first,” Izuku confesses, eyes darting across the mess of Eijiro’s throat, the pillow and sheets beneath him, across his abdomen and the ruined, dirtied blankets of their nest.
A bark of laughter leaves Eijiro, helping to move Izuku’s lax form up until Izuku swings his legs over the side of their bed. Eijiro follows suit, sitting up and rolling his shoulders to stretch out the kinks before warm red eyes meet soft green.
“Help me wash my hair?” Eijiro asks, looping his arm around Izuku’s shoulders, thumb massaging slow circles into the dense muscle he finds. Izuku leans towards him, pressing a slow, long kiss to his lips.
“Of course I will,” he promises, “but only if you massage my feet after.”
Eijiro smiles.
“Anything for you, Izuku.”