The next morning, sunlight filtered softly through the blinds, casting stripes of gold across the rumpled sheets. Inko lay nestled against Izuku's chest, her breathing slow and even, hair fanning out over him like a dark halo.
He watched her for a moment, tracing the curve of her jaw with his eyes, the soft rise and fall of her chest, memorizing the warmth and weight of her against him.
'Man, it'll be hard to hold myself back, but I can find other ways to make things fun,' he thought, a smirk tugging at his lips.
The memory of last night, every gasp, every shiver, every slick, trembling moan, ran through his mind like fire, igniting a need he had no intention of denying later.
He slipped quietly out of the bed, careful not to wake her yet, and padded to the bathroom. The shower's hot water washed over him, muscles tensing and relaxing under the steam, as he planned his next moves.
There was no rush to dominate; the thrill was in the tease, the careful control, and the anticipation of her reactions.
Meanwhile, Inko stirred, feeling the cool, damp sheets under her skin. Goosebumps rose as she slowly sat up, pulling the covers off and glancing down at the laundry basket she would have to deal with.
A flush colored her cheeks as the events of last night resurfaced in her mind.
'I can't believe I did that with him… with my son,' she thought, biting her lip. 'But it felt so good. I couldn't control myself, even though I've only been with one man before.'
Her mind's eye replayed his hands on her, the way he guided her, the expert balance of dominance and tenderness.
She shivered, recalling the slick heat of her arousal, the way her nipples had stiffened as she touched herself in the dark.
'I can't hold myself back,' she whispered to herself, heat pooling between her thighs.
The memory alone was enough to make her bite her wrist, trying to stem the rising wetness threatening to escape.
By the time breakfast was over, the tension between them was almost palpable—but surprisingly, the awkwardness never settled in.
They laughed, shared casual conversation, and fed each other bites of toast and fruit, glances lingering a moment too long. The chemistry from last night hovered just beneath the surface, unspoken but electric.
Once Izuku finished breakfast, he retreated upstairs, a mischievous glint in his eye. He began ordering items that would spice up the fun, imagining scenarios that would challenge and tease Inko while keeping her on the edge of control.
'This is going to be fun,' he thought, smirking as he packed away the packages.
After changing, he prepared to visit his friend Katsuki—and of course, to see his mom, Mitsuki.
The day was just beginning, and already, the air was thick with anticipation and tension, the promise of games and boundaries blurred into delicious temptation.
...
At the Bakugo household, Masaru sat slouched comfortably on the couch, his arm draped over the side as the glow of the TV lit up his face. A live game played on the screen, the commentary filling the otherwise quiet house. He took a long sip from his beer, letting out a satisfied sigh.
It had been a packed week for him—late shifts, barely a moment to breathe, and even less time to spend at home. Now, finally, he had a day to himself to relax and catch up on the little things he'd been missing.
'Well… almost all the little things.'
Last night had been less than ideal. He and Mitsuki had been in bed, her fingers grazing him, her voice low in his ear—her usual way of getting him in the mood. But no matter how much she coaxed, nothing happened. He'd brushed it off with a casual "Work's been rough. Just need to rest up," and she'd actually let it slide. No punishment, no teasing. That in itself was strange.
It wasn't the first time, though. Every now and then, something in him just wouldn't switch on—at least not without the kind of pain Mitsuki knew exactly how to give him.
Masaru smirked wryly to himself.
' If my son knew what his mother and I get up to at night, he'd abandon us both without a second thought.'
Meanwhile, upstairs, Mitsuki was soaking in the bath, steam curling around her, the scent of her shampoo filling the air. She wasn't thinking about Masaru—or even the chores that needed doing. She was thinking about Izuku. The promise he'd made to come over today sat in her mind like a secret thrill.
' I just hope he doesn't do anything stupid in front of Masaru,' she thought, submerging herself for a moment before resurfacing, droplets tracing down her neck.
After her bath, she dried off, slipped into a casual but flattering outfit, and ran a brush through her hair. The rest of the day needed to look normal—especially with Masaru home. She padded downstairs, bare feet quiet against the wood, and began washing the dishes. The irritation hit her mid-scrub when she remembered she'd told Katsuki to do them this morning, only for him to run off early to "train."
She was still muttering under her breath when the doorbell rang. Her heart skipped a beat. She quickly dried her hands, but before she could reach the door, Masaru's voice cut in.
"I got it," he said, walking past her toward the entryway.
She froze halfway to the door, forcing her face into a neutral expression as she turned back toward the kitchen.
Masaru swung it open to find a familiar green-haired teen standing there. "Well, if it isn't Midoriya-boy. How've you been, son?" he said warmly.
Izuku smiled politely. "I've been alright, Mr. Bakugo. Is Katsuki home?"
"No, but you can wait here for him. Come on in." Masaru stepped aside. "I'm watching a match right now. You wanna join me?"
"Sure," Izuku replied easily.
As he stepped into the living room, his eyes flicked to the pass-through window into the kitchen. Mitsuki was there, and when their eyes met, she gave him a small, quick smile before turning back to the sink. Izuku's lips curved in a smirk only she could understand.
He dropped onto the couch beside Masaru, and the game resumed in the background.
"So, how's U.A. treating you?" Masaru asked, keeping his eyes on the screen.
"It's fun. I'm learning a lot, meeting new people," Izuku said casually.
"You know, I should be asking Katsuki, but you know how he is. Is he doing well?"
"Yeah, he's top five in our class," Izuku replied.
Masaru glanced at him with a grin. "Let me guess—you're number one?"
Izuku chuckled. "Well, you're not wrong."
Just then, Mitsuki appeared from behind the couch. She leaned forward to set a chilled glass on the coffee table in front of him.
The faint scent of her perfume reached him before she straightened. Her eyes lingered on him for just a moment longer than necessary before she turned away.
Izuku watched her walk off, his smirk returning. ' Yep… this is going to be fun.'
TO BE CONTINUED