cw: this is so goofy. selfship-coded. izuku has a subtle breeding kink (i wrote this what's new). pregnancy mention. condom use. suggestive, minors dni.
you sit warily on the toilet seat, your fiancé right outside the door, and your foot tap tap taps as you wait for the little piece of plastic in your hand to decide your future.
ironically, you don't have the energy for trepidation anymore because you feel like by now you're at this literally every couple of days.
but baby it doesn't feel good?
but don't you want me to feel all of me?
i promise i'll pull out better this time.
just the tip is fine, right?
izuku's outside the bathroom door, giving you privacy as though he wasn't nose deep between your legs just last night, slobbering all over you like a starving puppy presented with a wet meal. for a moment it occurs to you that if you really are pregnant, even if you can clearly handle it financially and emotionally, you'll shove that stick so far up his ass that-
your timer goes off and it's negative.
izuku bursts in at the sound of your voice, immediately uttering a supportive "is everything okay baby?" the shine to his emerald eyes makes you wonder if he actually, deep down, does want you pregnant.
he grins and kisses your forehead as you adjust your panties up and stand to wash your hands. squishing your cheeks as he has trouble getting his hands off of you, he promises that he'll actually invest in some condoms.
you don't believe him, but you consider making that appointment to your ob-gyn to get an intrauterine device you've been thinking about sooner rather than later.
another night comes and he's looked at you like that and he continues to be built like that and you have no choice but to let him do whatever he wants with you, even if it is to drag you not really kicking and not really screaming from your work, going from holding you around your midsection to lifting you up effortlessly so that your crotch is pressed against his face. he sniffs you like an entire dog and you're both terribly embarrassed and terribly aroused by his sheer want for you. izuku is already pressing kisses to your mound through your yoga pants as he carries you to the bed.
"izuku, i still have shit to do!" you argue, but you're holding on tight to his head to keep your balance, as if he would ever let you fall.
"you've worked hard enough," he says, muffled by your legs around his face. "i'm asking politely. may i please have some pussy?"
the fact that he's asking this, just as you land on the bed with a practical bounce is almost offensive. you sit up.
he leans in, grinning as he gets on all fours to descend upon you.
"i mean yeah, of course," he replies, knowing full well that you won't say no as he pulls off his shirt. you shake your head, but your shirt goes over your head as well. he catches your lips in a kiss first, and you sink into the bed under his weight as he practically smothers you in kisses. wet, sloppy, silly, you laugh against each other, groping each other with your hands, and then it occurs to you both at the same time.
you pull away, his teeth still grazing at your lower lip.
"izuku, do you have any?"
he blinks for a moment, sitting back on his heels. then his eyes widen.
izuku sounds a little too excited just for condoms, and your eyes narrow, but he practically leaps off the bed and is burrowing through his workbag for something, and you squint, expecting a box.
what he comes up with dries you up so fast you'll need iv fluids.
his grin is wide as he presents to you, proudly, a string of pristine looking condoms, all printed with all might's million watt smile right on the packaging.
a moment of silence passes as you beg the heavens above that your adonis of a partner is not fucking serious about fucking you sideways with his mentor's brand of contraceptive rubbers.
you walk out of the room, immediately, so irate you can't speak.
"WHAT?!" he asks, following you out immediately. "come on!"
there's no way you are coming or cumming anywhere in the next hour. not like this.
you find your seat back at your desk and crack open your hardback textbook as hard as you can, doing your best to ignore the whine his voice has taken. he can actually die of blue balls for all you care.
"come on, it's not that bad!"
you snap your head at him and give him a look, and he immediately recants.
"okay, i'll go out right now and get normal condoms, i promise."
you lick the tip of your index finger and turn the page of your book.
"please, my dick is literally so hard right now, don't you care if i die?"
"perish. let me see," you reply, without turning your head.
"wow!" you can't' help but stifle a laugh at his disbelief. you hear him shift upwards and turn, not even realizing he had been kneeling.
as he stands, you do get a look at his... impressive member. maybe he could die like this, the way that thing is rock hard and waiting desperately for you.
you blink, look at your book, then look back at him. he's looking at you with the puppy dog eyes, and he still looks the way he does and he's still built the way he is, and...
moments later, you're folded into a jackknife because your pro hero fiancé somehow always gets his way, but at least, mercifully, his mentor's condom isn't wrapped all over what's pumping in and out of you.
right before your eyes roll back in your head, you can still see all might's smile, and maybe you should have just stuck with the damn pregnancy tests after all.
