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The bubble tea’s still cold, wet condensation dripping down plastic and smearing over Katsuki’s fingertips. Water droplets bead on her hot pink nails; she prefers red, but Izuku loves pink on her and she doesn’t mind indulging him when it comes to nail polish, considering all the other things she refuses.
It was his idea to wake up at the crack of dawn to head to the mall at 9 fucking a.m. because it would be quieter at that time, despite her insistences that the shops didn’t open until 10. Thankfully, a few cafés had opened early, so he bought them bubble tea from her favorite shop, along with a macaron he insisted on feeding her as if she couldn’t eat it perfectly well herself.
At least Izuku dressed up today. She’d resigned herself to him wearing another one of his dorky ‘T-shirt’ shirts that were both adorable and pathetic, but he showed up at her door with a tight black shirt that revealed a hint of his defined abs and a blue hoodie that somehow dialed his hotness up even more, as if the nerd needed the extra help.
I want to look good for my girlfriend, he’d cheerily declared. She rolled her eyes and gave him a kiss for his efforts, so he still came out winning.
A warm hand nudges at her own, and she looks over to find that familiar proud yet shy expression on Izuku’s face. After more than a year together, the nerd still acts like he’s the luckiest guy in the world to be dating Katsuki—which he is. She scoffs, but entwines her fingers with his and squeezes lightly. His smile widens.
“I think the shops will be opening soon,” he comments, glancing around. “Where do you want to start? Maybe that makeup place you like?”
“Eh. I don’t care.”
He pouts. “I told you, I want to get you something nice.”
“And I told you that dropping my palette wasn’t that big a deal."
It was a big deal. He'd accidentally dropped one of her favorite eyeshadow palettes and she yelled at him for a solid twenty minutes until he looked like a kicked puppy, which made her feel like the worst person alive. She made him katsudon for dinner to make up for hurting his feelings, and afterwards, he'd carried her to bed and showed her that, yeah, a makeup palette really wasn't that big a deal.
"I still feel bad," he points out. “What's wrong with wanting to spoil my girlfriend?"
She huffs. "Maybe you should work harder on not leaving your clothes all over the place when you stay over instead of getting me gifts all the time."
"That's not fair! Last time, I was going to fold up my clothes, but you said you needed me right then, and then when I tried to make breakfast, you made me eat you out on the counter and the eggs got burnt, then when I tried to vacuum the place later, you said I looked hot when I was being responsible and you wanted to do it right there on the carpet, which I just cleaned–"
"Okay, I get it!" Her cheeks flare hot. "Moron. Don't talk about that here."
"Why not?" he asks, far too innocently. "No one's around."
The mall really is empty, metal shutters drawn over the shop entrances with narrow gaps at the bottom just wide enough to allow the fluorescent white lights to flood out. A few passersby are scattered around, a woman with a sleeping baby in her arms sitting on one of the sleek benches and a teen girl clutching what looks like a vaccination report, but no one's paying attention to each other.
"I guess," she allows. "You know, if we didn't come to the mall, we could have been fucking right now."
Izuku just gives her a warm smile, wrapping his arm around her waist. "I know, but I wanted to go on a proper date. I like going out with you."
Giddy happiness bubbles up in her chest, but she forces herself to sound nonchalant. "Tch. Whatever."
As they walk, his scarred fingers thread casually through her belt loops, splaying over the slender curve of her hip. Though she'd never admit it, she loves how protective he gets over her, how he's tall enough that she can rest her head against his shoulder and feel so safe.
The shops surrounding them are all furniture stores, so it takes a while before they wander to the alley containing Katsuki's favorite fashion boutiques. It’s a practiced routine; Katsuki flits around the aisles searching for new additions to her closet though she knows she will always choose the practical option in the end while Izuku takes his place on one of the sofas inevitably claimed by weary boyfriends and husbands.
He follows her from shop to shop with unfailing enthusiasm, perking up each time she calls him into the changing rooms to appraise her outfit. There are still a few shops she wants to check out, but all she can think about is taking Izuku home and showing him exactly how much she appreciates him. Either way, she’ll get what she wants.
He's sitting on yet another bench when she comes out of the changing room in the jeans and the orange blouse she wore to the mall. When he sees her, he immediately scrambles to his feet, eyes shining as if she's dressed up in a ballgown rather than casual clothes with her long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail.
"Let's go," she says, holding out a hand. He takes it and presses a light kiss to her wrist before intertwining their fingers. A flutter rushes along her skin and up her spine.
They continue down the aisle with the fashion boutiques, and she knows something caught Izuku's attention a moment before he stops walking. It's easy to tell in the way his breath catches, an excited spark livening his green eyes. She tracks his gaze to the lingerie shop just across the corridor, all blaring pink and provocative lingerie displayed unabashed in the windows.
"No," she says flatly.
"You look so gorgeous in lingerie," he protests, turning his pleading eyes to her. "Please? Let's just look around."
"Damn it. Fine."
She might as well not have said anything because Izuku's already herding her excitedly towards the store. It's playing a preppy beat that will probably be switched to obnoxious pop once the mall wakes up over a maze of unrealistically slim mannequins with massive tits showing off various lingerie. The shop looks like an explosion of red lace and white silk, topped off with bright hearts and lipstick stains all over the walls.
She can hardly imagine herself wearing any of this. She owns a few cute lingerie sets, most of which she bought after she started dating Izuku, but she never wears them unless she's in the mood to surprise him. However, she knows from the suspicious browsing history she noticed when Izuku lent her his phone last week that he would definitely be interested if she wore something more risqué.
There are more people around than there were when they arrived at the mall, but she refuses to be embarrassed, so she keeps her head high as they make their way through the store.
When Izuku stops, she's almost afraid to look at the lingerie that caught his attention, but she forces herself to raise her gaze to the mannequin set on a high shelf, adorned with the most extravagant lingerie set she’s seen yet. It's baby pink, all delicate lace and panels of sheer fabric and intricate straps that would cling to her body. Just looking at it makes her shiver.
Katsuki pushes down the feeling and shoots him a glare. "No way. I'm not wearing that stupid thing."
"Just try it on," he suggests. "I'm sure it would look amazing on you."
"Of course it fucking would! I still don't want it."
Izuku sighs. "Well, I guess you're too nervous. I understand."
She scowls at him. "The fuck's that supposed to mean?"
"I know it can be nerve-wracking to wear stuff like this," he points out. "I’d never want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable."
Her features twist into a glower. She knows he's appealing to her ego, and damn it, it's working. She yanks open the drawer beneath the display and rifles through the bundles until she finds one in her bra size, then storms off towards the changing rooms.
They're empty, so she chooses the largest one. The walls are dusty rose and a soft pink carpet lines the floor, a plush armchair situated in the corner of the room. Clearly, the shop isn't messing around with their ploys to satisfy customers.
The door slams shut behind her, followed by the telltale click of a lock, so Izuku makes himself comfortable on the ottoman. He knows his girlfriend well enough to know that she'll probably tear his head off like a praying mantis if he tries to enter the dressing room.
"Kacchan, I'm here," he calls. "If you need anything, let me know."
"Fuck off!"
Well, that was expected. He busies himself with imagining what she will look like in the lingerie; she prefers sports bras, and while he’s usually too occupied with what’s underneath to think about her underwear, he can’t deny that he likes the idea of seeing her dressed up for him.
Minutes trudge past at a glacial pace. Izuku wouldn’t consider himself an impatient person, but knowing his girlfriend is wearing skimpy lingerie just a door away is too much to bear. He abandons the shopping bags by the ottoman and marches toward the dressing room with just a little too much determination.
“Kacchan, open up. I want to see you.”
Her response is instantaneous. “Fuck, no. I’m taking this shit off and we’re going home.”
Dismay floods his chest. “No! At least let me see you. Open the door.”
A heavy sigh, then the lock clicks open. He instantly pushes the door open and barges inside before she can change her mind. As soon as his gaze lands on her, his mouth falls ajar.
The pale pink bralette cups the curve of her breasts, leaving her nipples visible beneath the sheer fabric. Delicate bands loop around her hips, accentuating her slim waist, before leading to the intricate patch of lace right between her legs. The soft color matches her skin perfectly, and the gorgeous blush across her defined cheekbones only makes her look even more like an angel.
Izuku steps closer, awed. “You’re… you look incredible.”
She scoffs, crossing one leg over the other and chancing a glance at herself in the mirror. “Yeah, I know.”
“You’re perfect, Kacchan.”
Before she can reply, he cups her face and tugs her into a slow, deep kiss. Katsuki lets out a small hum against his lips and loops her arms around his neck, lifting onto her tiptoes so he can wrap his arms around her waist, eagerly thumbing at the lace stretching tight over her body.
She tastes sweet, like the bubble tea they drank earlier, and he licks into her mouth until he can pick up the pure taste of her, nothing but the wet heat of her tongue and the sugary scent of her perfume diffusing thick into the air around them. Izuku lets his hand wander lower, mapping the swell of her ass, then dipping under the waistband of her panties to feel her bare skin.
Katsuki lets out a surprised grunt and pulls back. She’s glaring at him, but her lips are bruised pink and her face is flushed, so the effect is kind of lost. “Fuckin’ pervert. You can’t be normal for five fucking minutes.”
“I can’t help it,” he protests, unable to tear his eyes from the exquisite fabric over the perfect tits he aches to touch and take into his mouth. “I want you, Kacchan.”
Her eyes narrow into a death glare. “You’re not fucking me here.”
She attempts to retreat, but Izuku just pulls her back into the circle of his arms, squeezing her ass with one hand while he peppers kisses over her neck. She huffs and squirms, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but he sucks and laps at the sweet spot just under her jaw until she lets out a small whimper and melts.
“You’re a jerk,” she breathes, her hand sliding into his curls and tugging hard. He follows, kissing a path down the column of her throat, along the slender line of her shoulders. “I told you, you can’t fuck me.”
“I won’t,” he promises, “but I can still enjoy you, can’t I?”
“Pervert. Creep.”
He tilts his face to kiss the tip of her ear, then the sensitive place just behind it that makes her choke on a gasp, pressing closer to him. Her tits flatten between them, her nipples pebbling against Izuku’s chest, even through a shirt that feels like a tight second skin. “You’re beautiful.”
She lets out a breathy noise that almost sounds like a laugh. “You piss me off.”
Izuku hides his smile in the crook of her neck. Her pulse is hot against his lips, thrumming frantically with hot blood and desire and a faint salty taste that he licks up like a lake breeze, and her deft fingers sift through the hair at his nape with a kind of greed he knows intimately well.
His lips find the sweet spot behind her ear again, pressing a slow, lingering kiss there. “You look so good, Kacchan. You always do.”
She fists at the base of his hair and yanks him into another kiss, chin angled to deepen it. Her saliva pushes into his mouth, thick and intentional, and he swallows it down before surging forward to seek it again. Push, pull, his wide hand kneading up her hip while she fumbles with his shirt, shoving it up so it’s bunched around his underarms. A hot palm meets his abs, smoothing over hard, flexing muscle, and he pushes into her touch like it’s a drug seeping into his searing skin.
He can feel the gooseflesh across her skin at the press of his fingers against the crease between her thigh and ass, edging tantalizingly close to the wetness soaking through her panties. It’s heaven, holding her soft, warm body close, dragging his tongue along the droplets of sweat clinging to the fine blond hairs at her neck. It always makes her squirm, crackling live wire, skin hot and sensitive under his humming mouth.
Behind her, the mirror gives him a perfect view of her ass, the smooth slope to the curve of her back, tremors wracking her shoulder blades as the hand on her thigh shifts to press two fingers flat against her panties.
“Deku,” she pants, voice a warning. “Don’t.”
“You kissed me,” he reminds her.
“That’s—ah, different. We’re not fucking here.”
Izuku just hums in acknowledgement as he rubs her folds over the panties, mouthing at the spot where her earlobe meets her neck. Her reluctant hips rock back into him, tilting to give him better access as he hooks a finger under the band of her panties and lifts it up. Slick strings drip between her and the fabric, webbing as he slides it aside to ease two fingers straight into her, knuckle deep.
Katsuki lets out an undignified squeak, nails digging deep into Izuku’s shoulders. Her walls throb around him, tight, clenching as he shoves deeper into her, curling his fingers to press into the soft, spongy spot that tears the first moan from her throat. His thumb toys at her clit, shifting easily with the warm, wet slick drenching her core.
"I want you to see yourself," he tells her, pulling his fingers out with a wet squelch that shoots heat straight to his groin. "Face the mirror."
Her eyebrows knit together. "Weirdo. You're so gross."
Still, she turns around, the dusting of pink across her cheeks deepening as her eyes trail over the pale bruises patterned over her collarbones, the wet patch spreading between her legs. Izuku kisses the back of her neck, then moves around her and lowers himself to a kneel at her feet.
Deft fingers pull aside her panties once more, revealing her wet, pink lips, glistening with desire. He licks his lips and looks up at her, drunk on the sight of the flush creeping down her heaving chest and the hazy arousal in her sharp red eyes.
“You gonna get to it or what?” she says breathily.
He gives her an innocent look. “I thought you wanted to leave.”
Her knee hits his shoulder with so much force that it nearly knocks him over. “Smartass. Just get me off.”
Izuku doesn't hesitate, pressing his thumbs into her soft, wet folds and gently parting them so he can lick a thick stripe up her cunt, the sharp taste of her slick addicting on his lips. Her breath shudders, then cuts off into a moan when the tip of his tongue circles her clit, swirling around the hard bud until she's grinding against his face. He tucks his face into the crease of her thigh just as she thrusts forward again, smearing her pussy over his cheek, hot and wet.
Izuku groans, grabbing her creamy thighs and hiking one up onto his shoulder to spread her wider, her puffy, pale cunt delectable under the ruined panties that snapped back into place. He licks at her folds over the fabric, teasing her clit through the panties until she’s panting.
“Get them off,” she demands.
“But they look so good on you,” he counters, though he’s craving the pure feeling of her skin against his lips again. He presses a kiss to her upper thigh instead, then rises to kiss the dip of her hip. “It would be a shame.”
“I don’t fucking care.” She reaches down for her waistband, but he pushes her hand away, peppering soft kisses over the delicate string of lace as if to placate her. “Damn tease.”
“I love you,” he tells her, rubbing his thumb in smooth circles at her marked thigh as he places a kiss on her navel. “You’re the most gorgeous thing in the world.”
She preens, and he takes the opportunity to finally guide her panties down and off her legs, kissing her ankles for good measure. They fall to the floor, soaked, heady with the scent of her desperation that he drinks in from the source, nuzzling his nose against her cunt. Her swollen clit is begging to be sucked so he pointedly avoids it, swiping his tongue along her folds slow and languid, the way he knows will drive her mad.
Izuku likes getting her like that, riling her up until she’s abandoning her pride like a punctured tire at a roadside so she can plead for more. She rocks her hips against his face, squirms against his bruising grip on her hips, moans and gasps like something out of a perfect dream under the maddening feel of his lips and tongue against her.
Katsuki threads needy fingers into his hair and presses him close, guides his mouth to where she wants it, and Izuku obeys, nudging his nose against the underside of her clit as he finally spears his tongue into her opening. Her voice is a sweet cry in his ears, her slick dripping down over his face, smearing her thighs with the glistening fluid.
It’s hard to breathe, nose and mouth pressed tight against the insistent grind of her hips, her cunt hot against his face, but he’d be content to suffocate between her legs, lost in her taste and the heat of her body and her moans that send desire hurtling through him. His cock’s painfully hard, straining against his pants, so he reaches down to palm at himself, rutting against his hand as he thrusts his tongue deeper into her.
“Fuck, Deku, just like that,” she gasps out. “Fuck, your mouth—”
He can feel her legs shaking, the thigh slung over his shoulder quivering, so he shifts up to give her what she wants, wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking hard. Katsuki lets out a choked, strangled groan, fingers twisting tight in his hair, and when he adds quick flicks of his tongue to the suction, she almost screams.
Her leg clamps tight around his head, burying his face in her cunt and keeping him there as trembles wrack her body. She rides out her orgasm on his lips, her moan melting to a desperate whimper as he continues suckling at her clit, even when the clasp of her thigh eases and she tries to push him away.
Izuku enjoys her overstimulated cries, the shifting, writhing motion of her body, for a few more seconds before he takes mercy on her and pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He gazes up at her with adoring eyes, and she looks back at him with her chest still shuddering, face red and flushed.
“Holy shit,” she says, then she’s pulling at his shirt to force him to his feet so she can kiss him. His knees ache from kneeling for so long and his lips feel raw, but it’s utterly blissful.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he assures her, relishing in how her scarlet eyes narrow. "Squeeze your thighs together for me."
Katsuki throws him a half-hearted glower before she squeezes her thighs together and Izuku moves behind her so he can see their reflections in the mirror. Her tits are almost spilling out of the bralette hugging her lean body, the edge of her nipple poking around the lace detailing, and it's impossible for Izuku to resist cupping her breasts in his hands and squeezing them.
Katsuki gives a soft moan, tilting her head back onto his shoulder. "God, Deku."
He presses his lips to her neck as he tugs his pants down his thighs just enough to free his hard cock, slotting it into the hot, wet space between her thighs. An experimental thrust forward, and a groan catches low in his throat at the tight press of her around him, her skin so soft and smooth.
"Baby," Izuku mumbles, "you feel so good."
She reaches back to loop her arms around his neck. Her hair's a mess of damp tangles, clinging to her neck. "Move, Deku."
His hips draw back then snap forward, slow at first then faster, building a steady rhythm. Her face is bright scarlet, skin warm as Izuku hooks his chin onto her shoulder so he can feel more of her against him. It's perfect, the heat of her thighs around his sensitive cock, dragging sweet stimulation along his aching nerves with each sloppy thrust. It's almost like fucking her for real, the blissed expression she makes, the way his thrusts jostle her body and send tremors through her chest.
"Look at yourself, Kacchan," he orders. Her hazy eyelids flutter open, reluctant as she forces herself to meet her own gaze in the mirror. His cockhead stands flush against her thighs, fucking in and out, grinding against her wet opening as his shaft drags along her cunt. "You're perfect."
She moans, raspy and raw. "Deku, you–I'm sensitive–"
"You can take it." He slinks one hand around her waist and dips a finger into her, curling it just right to make her groan, trying to tilt her hips away from his touch. He just pushes another finger alongside the first, feeling her soft walls seize around him. “You always take me so well.”
His free hand slides to her tit, thumb circling around her nipple while his touch deep inside her applies hard, delicious pressure to her most sensitive spot. She cries out, back arching, so he massages that spot to see the way it makes her writhe in his arms, face contorted with pleasure, blond hairs plastered to her forehead with sweat.
Another thrust, and his cock drives between her thighs at just the right angle for the tip to slip inside. Her mouth falls open on a silent gasp, nails scrabbling at the nape of his neck, so he fucks his tip into her hole again, just enough to tease her.
"Ah, Deku–inside me, fuck, fuck me."
"You said I can't."
"Just do it!" Her hips wriggle backwards, pressing harder against his own, letting his cock slip a little further into her. "Come on, I need it."
"Not now.” He plants a soothing kiss on her nape. “It's my turn, Kacchan.”
She yanks on his hair in retaliation but it just forces a moan from him at the slight sting of pain. His hand doesn’t ease on her chest, circling around her nipple sweet and slow, exactly how she likes it, as he continues with slow, hot ruts, his cock against the searing skin of her thighs and her breast filling the scarred cradle of his palm.
The heat’s building inside him, sparking along his skin. As he chases it, he keeps massaging her sweet spot with enough pressure to make her moan and gasp as if it's his cock filling her, stimulating her so well that all her nerves are sparking and crackling with electricity.
Izuku's close, his thrusts turning erratic, sloppy. His eyes threaten to squeeze shut but he can't tear them from the scraps of lingerie still adorning Katsuki's frame, the way her body twists and moves against his. A thick grunt, and the rising torrent of heat splatters over her thighs, flooding his veins with the sweet sensation. He slows, milking the last dregs of his orgasm with her thighs before he stops, spent.
His lips meet her shoulder, mouthing at her skin. "That was incredible. You're incredible."
She sniffs. "I know. Now get the hell off me, you fuckin' loser."
Izuku peels himself off her back, sweat dripping down their burning skin, soaking through the shirt and pants he hadn't bothered to take off. He probably should have thought harder before he convinced her to do this in a dressing room, because they would leave this shop with the intimate traces of what they had done painted all over them.
She pulls off her bralette while Izuku occupies himself with picking up her clothes so the sight of her, debauched, won’t make him pounce on her again. Her clothes are rumpled, her hair a wild mess, but she looks so good that Izuku wants to tear off her clothes and fuck her again.
When Katsuki catches his guilty gaze, she raises an eyebrow. “Still horny, huh? You’re insatiable.”
“You’re one to talk,” he teases. “You always say you won’t beg, but you end up doing it anyway.”
“Wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so useless all the time.” A slow, lazy grin tugs at her lips. “I can’t believe you didn’t fuck me. You’d better make it up to me.”
Izuku has a feeling that he’s going to break multiple traffic laws trying to take her home as quickly as possible. He placates himself with stepping closer and tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear before giving her a tender kiss, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pressing him close with a content sigh.
”I love you,” he says when they part, raw and affectionate and intent.
“Dumbass,” she says with a huff, but she reaches up to brush his hair away from his eyes with a slight furrow in her eyebrows, pushing his dampened curls away from his green eyes. He turns his face to place a featherlight kiss on her wrist, and it still sparks tingles over her skin.
A sharp knock at the door makes them both jolt, shooting twin alarmed gazes at each other. A moment of hesitation, then she charges over and tugs it open, evidently deciding that it’s better to get it over with.
A blank-faced sales attendant is standing there. Red hair on one side, white on the other, and a scar that paints a dusky cloud around a shimmering blue eye. His expression barely changes at all, except for a slight twitch. “Are you done?”
Izuku wants to die. “Um. Yes.”
“Good.” He points at the used, discarded lingerie on the floor. “You have to pay for that.”
He leaves without another word. Izuku looks at Katsuki, whose mortified expression mirrors his own, eyes wide with horror that slowly eases the longer they stare at each other.
A tense pause, then they both start laughing.