Archive of Our Own ^beta

You probably wouldn’t have seen him, not at first.

Not unless you knew how to look. Not unless you’d already seen enough quiet, strange things that your eyes didn’t skip over the impossible anymore. 

Because there he was—just a shape at first, curled into himself in the middle of a clearing, right where the snow fell heaviest. 

Pale and small, like the cold had shaped him out of ice and breath and feathers.

He wasn’t moving much. Not anymore.

His knees were pulled up to his chest, arms hugging them in, and the thin white gown he wore might as well have been paper. It clung to him, damp and torn, and gave him nothing in return. 

The only warmth he had came from the wings wrapped tightly around his body. Massive things, folded in awkward angles, hunched like a shield.

Even those were starting to droop with the weight of snow.

You could see him shaking if you got close enough. Not dainty little shivers, but the full-body kind. The kind that rattled your ribs. The kind that said he’d been out here longer than he should’ve been. Maybe too long.

And he wasn’t supposed to be here. Not really. Not in the mortal world.

Fallen, they’d call him, if they saw him. But not in the terrible way—not in the stories with burning halos and thunder-split skies.

No, he fell quietly.

Like a leaf. Or a tired sigh.

And now he was alone in the snow.

He wasn’t crying. His face was too cold for that. His eyes were half-lidded, green and heavy with sleep. 

You could tell he was trying to stay awake—the way his fingers twitched in the snow, how his lips parted just enough to pull in shaky breaths. He didn’t look afraid.

Just exhausted.

There was blood in his hair. Just a little. A scrape near his temple. His feet were bare. You could see the way his toes curled into the snow like they were trying to pretend it didn’t hurt. You could almost feel it yourself.

And then, something shifted.

A snap of branches. The crunch of snow under boots. Slow, heavy footsteps, approaching from the tree line.

Izuku didn’t lift his head. Maybe he didn’t have the strength. Or maybe he already knew that whoever it was, they were close enough to decide what happened next.

Another step. Closer.

Then a voice. Rough. A little too loud for a quiet forest. Not cruel. Just sharp.

“…What the hell are you supposed to be?”

That got a reaction.

One wing moved—not in a showy way, just enough to twitch the feathers, like a flinch.

The boy underneath didn’t speak. 

He curled in tighter, which seemed to annoy the man who’d found him.

“You alive or what?”

More crunching footsteps. The snow didn’t hide him. You could see the man clearly now: tall, broad-shouldered, wearing something that looked like it’d seen a lot of winters and didn’t mind a few more. Blond hair, messy like he hadn’t bothered with it. Sharp red eyes.

And ears. 

Wolf ears, right on top of his head. Twitching.

A tail, too, thick and gold and dusted with snow, swaying behind him as he moved forward like he wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or curious.

He crouched a few feet away.

You could tell he hadn’t expected what he saw.

A kid—maybe not quite a kid, not really—with wings bigger than his whole body, curled around him like a dying star.

There was something unearthly about it. 

But something heartbreakingly small, too. Izuku didn’t glow or radiate or float. He just… shivered. Quietly. Like anyone else might.

“You cold?” the wolf-man asked.

No answer.

He sighed. “Of course you are.”

He stood again. His tail flicked.

You could tell he was thinking, because he glanced back at the trees behind him. Probably toward wherever he’d come from.

Wherever he’d been going before he found a half-frozen angel in his path.

“…Alright,” he muttered. “Fine.”

He walked back toward Izuku—slower this time, like he was trying not to spook a wild animal.

Izuku’s fingers twitched again.

“Don’t pass out,” the man warned. “You’ll regret it if I gotta carry you.”

That might’ve been a joke.

But he crouched again, arms ready to scoop—and Izuku moved. Just barely. Enough to whisper something. His voice was small and rough, barely there.

“Don’t.”

The man paused.

Izuku finally looked up. Not all the way—just enough to show green eyes under a curtain of damp curls. There was snow in his lashes. His lips were pale.

“You don’t know what I am,” he said.

The man snorted. “I know what you’re not. And right now, you’re not safe.”

“I’ll melt your floors.”

“I live in a den.”

“…I’ll bleed on your furs.”

“Already have,” he muttered. “So shut up and get up, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder.”

Izuku blinked. His wings lowered just a little. Not all the way, but enough to show a sliver of bare arm, trembling.

“…What’s your name?” he asked quietly.

“Katsuki.”

Izuku closed his eyes for a moment. Like he was trying it on, tasting it without saying it back.

Then, finally, he nodded.

Katsuki moved closer again. And this time, Izuku didn’t stop him.

He was lifted carefully—like Katsuki had done this before, even if he grumbled the whole time.

Izuku was light. Scary light.

Katsuki didn’t comment.

He just adjusted his arms, grunted, and started walking.

Izuku’s head rested against his shoulder. You could see the way his wings drooped now—too tired to hold themselves up. A few feathers fell behind them, leaving a soft trail in the snow.

“…Thank you,” Izuku whispered, barely louder than the wind.

Katsuki didn’t reply.

But his arms held steady the whole walk home.

The cold didn’t stop the way Katsuki moved. He carried Izuku carefully, though the boy was so light it almost felt like carrying air wrapped in feathers. 

His wings sank, gold-tipped and dusted with snow, brushing against Katsuki’s arm, soft and fragile like the rest of him.

Inside the den, the air was thick with the scent of smoke and dry earth. Warmth hugged the small, rough room—rough-hewn logs, a low fire crackling in the hearth, and furs thrown over a wooden bench and piled on the floor. 

Katsuki didn’t say much.

He dropped Izuku gently onto the furs, careful not to jostle him too much.

Izuku blinked slowly, his long curls falling over his face, strands of green and blonde tangled and damp. 

His skin was pale, almost translucent, but the faintest blush stained his cheeks—a delicate bloom of pink that made him seem even more soft. 

His eyes opened, revealing those soft green irises ringed with gold, wide and uncertain, flickering around the room as if trying to make sense of everything.

His lips parted, a faint, breathy sound—maybe a word? But the words wouldn’t come clearly. He tried again, a small whisper that Katsuki caught only because he was listening.

“K-Ka...tsu…”

Katsuki’s throat tightened a little, though he didn’t let it show. “Yeah. It’s me.”

Izuku’s hands twitched, almost reaching out but pulling back again, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch, or afraid he’d break something.

Katsuki sat down on the bench nearby, his wolf tail flicking slowly, trying not to stare but failing a little.

“You’re freezing,” Katsuki said bluntly, pulling off his coat and folding it around Izuku’s shoulders.

His gown barely covered him, and Katsuki could see the soft curve of Izuku’s waist, the slenderness of his limbs—delicate like he was carved from porcelain.

Izuku shivered again, wrapping his wings tighter around himself, but Katsuki could tell he was too tired to keep fighting the cold.

“Eat,” Katsuki said, tossing a small piece of dried meat onto the furs near Izuku.

The boy stared at it for a long moment, head tilting slightly like he was trying to remember what food was. 

Finally, with slow, uncertain movements, he picked it up, his fingers trembling. He brought it to his lips and nibbled carefully, eyes flickering with quiet surprise at the taste.

Katsuki watched, waiting.

When Izuku swallowed, his cheeks flushed even deeper, and he looked down, embarrassed. “S-sorry…” he whispered, barely audible.

Katsuki only grunted. “Don’t be.”

A silence settled between them, broken only by the soft crackling of the fire. 

Katsuki’s wolf ears twitched as he listened to Izuku’s shallow breaths, watched the way his wings twitched involuntarily.

For a long time, neither spoke.

Then Izuku lifted his head, his voice weak, almost lost. “Why… why did you help me?”

Katsuki shrugged, trying not to meet those searching, golden-ringed eyes.

“Because no one should be out there like that.”

Izuku’s wings stretched a little, tired but easing, folding gently around him like a shield once more.

Izuku shifted on the furs, cheeks heating up in a way that was impossible to miss. His wet wings fluttered nervously, just the smallest movement, as if they were too delicate to fully settle. 

He tucked a stray curl behind his ear—the blonde strands catching the firelight—and glanced up, eyes wide and golden-ringed, shimmering with something like wonder and worry all at once.

Katsuki sat back against the log wall, arms crossed loosely over his chest, eyes never leaving Izuku. “Never seen an angel before,” he muttered, low, almost like he was talking to himself.

Izuku’s breath hitched at the words, his cheeks deepening to a soft rose. 

He lowered his gaze quickly, fingers brushing awkwardly over the edge of his gown.

His lips parted as if to say something, but the words tangled in his throat, disappearing into quiet, uncertain silence.

Katsuki’s wolf ears twitched again, picking up the faintest tremble in Izuku’s wings. He didn’t say more. Just watched. 

Because, in that soft glow of firelight, he was seeing something tender and beautiful that didn’t belong to this world and he didn’t want to scare it away.

Izuku’s eyes flickered back to him briefly, vulnerability clear, before dropping shyly to the floor again. His blush deepened as if the simple act of being seen was both terrifying and somehow comforting.

“...You’re not what I expected,” Katsuki said quietly, voice rough but softening. “Not some big, scary light show.”

Izuku gave the barest smile, wings twitching once more, settling slowly.

And for a moment, in the quiet between them, it felt like maybe this strange angel had finally found a place to rest.

Izuku’s soft shiver broke the quiet again, subtle but impossible to Katsuki to ignore. His sharp eyes caught it instantly. 

Without a word, he stood up and crossed the small space between them, the firelight flickering over the careful set of his jaw.

Izuku didn’t move, just hugged his wings closer, trembling like a small bird caught in a sudden gust. 

Katsuki knelt beside him, fingers rough but gentle as he reached out to touch the damp feathers.

The wings were cold and heavy with snowmelt, the gold-tipped feathers clinging together in sad little clumps.

Katsuki’s hands worked slowly, brushing the feathers with care—careful not to pull, careful not to startle. 

Izuku’s breath hitched; the closeness, the touch, everything felt too sharp and tender all at once. 

His green-and-gold eyes fluttered shut briefly, then opened again, searching Katsuki’s face for any sign of impatience or mockery. There was none.

Instead, Katsuki’s lips twitched in something almost like a smile. “You’re real, huh?” he muttered, voice low and rough. “…Not just some story?”

Izuku blinked, a flush spreading from his cheeks to his ears, and for the first time, a small, grateful smile curved his lips.

His wings twitched under Katsuki’s hands, not in fear, but as if they were slowly learning trust.

The tension hung thick in the air, but Izuku didn’t pull away. Instead he leaned in just a little.

Katsuki’s breath hitched, too, though he kept brushing the feathers steady, steady—because maybe, just maybe, this fallen angel wasn’t as untouchable as he’d thought.

His fingers paused for a moment, resting gently on Izuku’s golden feathers. He glanced up, eyes flickering with something between curiosity and disbelief.

“Angels haven’t come down here in, what... hundreds of years?” Katsuki said quietly, like he wasn’t sure if saying it aloud made it real.

Izuku’s eyes flickered up slowly, the golden rings catching the firelight as he nodded, voice barely more than a whisper, “One hundred… nineteen.”

Katsuki blinked, eyebrows rising. “No way. You look so—” He gestured at Izuku’s delicate frame, the soft curves of his body, the shy flush on his cheeks. “—young. I didn’t think someone that old would look like that.”

Izuku gave a small, shy smile, looking down at his folded wings. “Angels don’t age like humans.”

Katsuki shifted, his wolf tail flicking behind him with a slow, thoughtful motion.

Izuku’s gaze stayed on Katsuki for a long moment.

“You’re... not like anyone I’ve ever met,” Katsuki finally said.

Izuku’s blush deepened, but this time there was no shyness.

“Well… neither are you,” Izuku whispered.

Katsuki’s eyes flicked down to Izuku’s thin, soaked gown—the fabric clinging to him, torn in places and doing little to keep out the cold.

He grunted low, shifting on his feet.

“You probably wanna get out of those,” Katsuki said, voice rough but quieter than usual, like he was trying not to sound pushy. “They’re wet... and ripped up.”

Izuku’s cheeks flamed, his wings twitching nervously. He looked up at Katsuki with those golden-ringed eyes, small and unsure.

After a moment, he gave a shy nod.

“Y-yeah… I think I should,” Izuku whispered, voice soft and barely there.

Katsuki nodded once, then turned toward a small stack of clothes folded on a crate nearby. “I’ll get you something clean. You can change when you’re ready.” He hesitated for a second, then added, “Take your time. I’ll be right here.”

Izuku’s fingers nervously fiddled with the edge of his gown, wings curling around him a little tighter.

Katsuki kept his gaze steady but gentle, giving him the quiet space he needed—like an unspoken promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Izuku stepped out from behind the worn wooden screen with slow, careful movements.

His bare feet barely made a sound on the rough floorboards. 

The thin white gown that had barely covered him was nowhere to be seen, left in a soft, crumpled heap on the floor. 

Now, standing there in the dim light, his body was exposed. Slender, perfect, and so much softer than Katsuki had expected. 

His skin was pale, translucent in the warm glow, and the gentle curves of his figure caught the light in a way that made Katsuki’s eyes flicker with surprise.

His wings hung low, heavy with dampness, feathers clinging together in darkened clumps, their golden tips shimmering faintly. 

Despite it all, Izuku moved with a quiet grace, as if he was simply... existing, unbothered by the chill or by the eyes that were now on him.

Katsuki’s gaze sharpened, his jaw tightening just enough that Izuku might have noticed if he was paying attention. “You’re just... standing there… like that?”

Katsuki’s voice was rough, cutting through the silence, but there was something almost hesitant beneath the sharpness. “No shame at all?”

Izuku’s eyes flicked up, those golden rings around his green irises catching the firelight like little halos.

He blinked slowly, then gave a small, almost shy nod.

“Most angels… walk like this,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “The high class wear robes because they have bigger wings, but most of us don’t really bother.”

Katsuki let out a breath, slow and shaky, his arms folding tightly over his knees as he sank down onto the fur-covered bench. 

His wolf tail flicked behind him, restless but calm, as if it too was trying to settle the sudden awkwardness in the air.

“…So, um, why do you have a woman’s body if you’re a guy?” Katsuki asked after a moment, voice uncertain now, less like a challenge and more like an honest question.

There was a curious softness in his tone that wasn't easy for him to hide.

Izuku shrugged, a small movement that sent loose feathers fluttering gently to the floor like fragile snowflakes.

His wings twitched as he tried to shake off some of the dampness, careful not to tear the delicate feathers.  

The scent that rose with each movement was subtle and unexpected. Earthy, like fresh rain on moss, mixed with the clean musk of feathers warmed by sunlight.

“Angels don’t really follow what people expect,” he murmured, a faint smile playing at the edges of his lips. “Bodies… shapes… it doesn’t really matter.”

Katsuki’s lips twitched in a dry, humorless chuckle. He ran a rough hand over his face, the tension easing from his shoulders just a bit. 

“Figures,” he muttered, looking away for a moment before glancing back.

“I… I’m twenty-two,” he said after a pause. “Or at least, that’s what it would be in human years. Wolf years are different.”

Izuku’s gaze softened. “You’re young,” he said quietly, wings folding gently as he settled onto the furs.

Katsuki scoffed but didn’t argue.

Izuku settled down next to Katsuki.

His skin was still cool to the touch, the faintest pink blooming softly across his cheeks.

His long wings folded neatly behind him, golden feathers brushing lightly against the worn wood of the bench. 

Katsuki’s eyes lingered on those wings for a moment, then slowly drifted to Izuku’s curls. Soft and wild, tangled in places, streaked with pale blonde highlights that caught the firelight.

He looked so small, almost unreal, despite the massive span of his wings.

Katsuki’s wolf ears twitched, he didn’t say anything about Izuku being indecent. 

After a long silence, Katsuki finally spoke. “How’d you end up falling down here anyway?”

Izuku’s eyes dipped, a soft flush colouring his pink face.

He hesitated, then whispered, “I wanted to see the human world… I’ve been in the skies my entire life, I thought maybe I could understand it better if I came down.”

His words were quiet, almost shy. Katsuki watched him for a moment, then muttered, “And that got you stuck.”

Izuku nodded slowly, cheeks burning a little more. “Yes… I didn’t want to fall. But I couldn’t go back, either.”

He shifted slightly beside Katsuki, the soft shuffle of bare feet against the floor barely breaking the quiet. 

His wings twitched ever so faintly, the damp feathers catching the firelight as he settled more comfortably. He kept his gaze fixed on Katsuki, wide and curious, watching him with quiet intensity.

Then, almost without thinking, Izuku leaned in a little closer.

His nose brushed gently against Katsuki’s neck as he sniffed quietly, as if trying to understand the strange warmth and wildness there.

Katsuki stiffened, startled by the sudden closeness.

He barely had time to react before a stray feather from Izuku’s wing flicked forward and poked him sharply in the eye.

“Oi!” Katsuki blinked, rubbing his eye with a rough hand, leaning back just enough to keep some distance. 

His sharp gaze flicked to Izuku’s still-bare skin, and for a moment, the silence between them stretched thick and awkward.

Izuku’s cheeks flushed a soft pink again, and he quickly drew back, folding his wings tighter around himself as if to hide.

The faintest, shy smile tugged at his lips, but his eyes stayed on Katsuki, vulnerable and open.

Katsuki rubbed at his eye, still irritated from the feather’s unexpected poke.

He glanced over at Izuku’s bare skin again, his brow furrowing.

“You seriously need to get dressed,” he said harshly, but carrying an edge of concern. “There’s a blizzard out there, and you’re just sitting here like that? You’re gonna catch something nasty.”

Izuku’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, but he said nothing. Instead, his fingers picked at a loose curl of his hair, twirling it nervously.

Katsuki squinted, curiosity breaking through his usual gruffness. “Do angels even get sick?” he asked, crossing his arms.

Izuku’s eyes lifted to meet his, soft and thoughtful. “If we don’t get enough sunlight…” he said quietly, voice almost like a secret, “then yes. We can get sick. Like humans.”

Katsuki grunted, the concern lingering beneath the surface. “Well, here.” He pushed spare dry clothes toward Izuku. “Put these on before you freeze your wings off.”

Izuku’s fingers brushed the fabric, but he hesitated and shook his head lightly. “They feel… scratchy,” he said softly, a faint crease appearing between his brows.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow.

“It’s just normal clothes,” he said, annoyed but straightforward. “Nothing special.”

Izuku’s eyes lowered, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Angel robes… they’re different,” he mumbled. “Made to fit angel skin perfectly. Everything else feels like sandpaper.”

Katsuki let out a quiet snort, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “Figured angels gotta have fancy clothes,” he huffed, the teasing light in his voice gentle, not mean.

Katsuki peeled off his shirt with a grunt, careful not to tear it further.

Beneath, a thick coat of blondish-grey fur covered his chest and traced a faint happy trail down his abdomen, blending seamlessly into his skin. 

The warmth of the fur seemed to radiate even in the cold air, a wild contrast to Izuku’s pale, delicate frame sitting beside him.

Izuku frowned, his delicate features tightening just a little, and he lifted his golden eyes to meet Katsuki’s steady gaze. 

For a long moment, he just stared—quiet and unblinking, like he was trying to understand something deeper beneath Katsuki’s rough exterior.

Slowly, Katsuki’s wolf tail began to twitch, brushing against the floor with restless energy. 

He let out a low, almost amused huff before his form shifted, muscles bunching and stretching beneath thick fur.

In moments, the man Izuku had been sitting beside was replaced by a towering, fluffy wolf.

Izuku’s breath caught, surprise blooming in his eyes.

Then, without hesitation, a grin spread across his face. He reached out and wrapped his slender arms around the great wolf’s neck, burying his face in the soft fur.

The wolf responded with a gentle nuzzle, settling into the embrace.

Izuku unfurled his large, glowing wings, folding them protectively around them both. The soft feathers brushed Katsuki’s fur as they curled together, warm and safe in the quiet glow of the firelight.

Izuku watched quietly for a moment, then hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper. “...Can you talk with this form?”

Katsuki didn’t answer with words. Instead he leaned in close and licked the soft feathers along Izuku’s wing. 

The unexpected warmth and rough tongue against his wing made Izuku’s skin flush red.

He looked up, eyes wide, a shy smile tugging at his lips, caught off guard but not pulling away.

Katsuki shifted, his wolf fur bristling as he instinctively curled a little tighter, moving so that his warm side pressed gently against Izuku’s pale skin.

The heat radiating from him was a sharp, comforting contrast to the chill in the air.

Izuku leaned into the warmth without hesitation, his large wings folding softly around them both like a cloak.

The angel felt safe here, in the wild comfort of the wolf’s presence.

Suddenly, Katsuki’s tail flicked with a mischievous twitch. Without warning, he reached out with a soft paw and gently swatted at one of Izuku’s golden curls, teasing it like a playful cub with a toy.

Izuku let out a surprised sweet laugh, the sound light and honey like, and tried to pull the curl away.

But Katsuki just grinned in his own way—if wolves could grin—and nudged him again with a soft growl of amusement.

Katsuki huffed, his tail wagging slightly as the fire flickered, casting a golden glow over two

Slowly, his fur began to ripple and shimmer, muscles shifting beneath the thick coat as he slowly morphed back into his human-wolf form. 

His ears and tail remained, but his frame grew taller and leaner again, the wildness still clear in his sharp eyes.

Without hesitation, he reached out and carefully cradled Izuku in his arms, careful despite Izuku’s wide, fragile wings and bare skin.

Katsuki’s rough hands brushed over Izuku’s pale shoulders, and his brow furrowed as he noticed something.

“You’re still cold,” Katsuki whispered, voice low and concerned. “…Even with the den’s warmth.”

Izuku looked up at him, eyes soft but shadowed with weariness. “I haven’t had sunlight,” he said softly. “That’s why.”

Katsuki tightened his hold just a little, a sudden protectiveness settling over him as he held the angel close against his chest.

Katsuki’s gaze dropped to Izuku’s wings, where the feathers were ruffled and worn, some looking fragile from the storm’s bite.

His voice softened, rough with concern. “I could help with those,” he said quietly. “There are ways to fix them.”

Izuku shook his head slowly, a small, tired smile playing on his lips. “No,” he whispered. “They’ll heal in a bit.”

Katsuki hesitated, then leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the broken feathers.

Izuku’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, then opened wide again, catching the scent of Katsuki’s fur. Without thinking, he leaned in and sniffed him again, shy and trusting.

Katsuki’s fingers drifted lower, tracing the soft hollow at Izuku’s waist before slipping over the gentle curve of his hip.

His touch was deliberate, exploratory—rough fingertips against skin that felt impossibly smooth. 

He paused, brow furrowing in sudden uncertainty.

“I—” he began, throat tight. “Sorry.”

Izuku’s cheeks flamed even brighter as his wings fluttered around them. He set his small hand over Katsuki’s, guiding those rough digits in with unexpected confidence.

“I’ve never… I’ve never done anything like this,” he admitted, voice husky with desire and curiosity both. “...But I want to feel you—”

Katsuki swallowed, then leaned in, pressing a heated kiss to Izuku’s trembling shoulder.

His rough breath fanned over skin so pale it seemed to glow. “I-If that’s what you want,” he rasped.

He slid a hand beneath Izuku’s back, supporting him as he shifted closer. “I’m not exactly… gentle. You sure about this?”

Izuku’s other hand found Katsuki’s jaw, tilting his head up so their eyes met—green and gold staring into red with equal intensity. 

Their kiss was unhurried, exploratory—a taste of feather-soft lips and the rough scrape of stubble.

Katsuki’s hands roamed freely now: one cupping Izuku’s small breast, thumbs brushing over sensitive nubs; the other guiding shakily between Izuku’s thighs, fingertips brushing along the soft curls at his center.

Izuku gasped into the kiss, arching into Katsuki’s touch.

His own hands trailed down Katsuki’s chest—warm muscle beneath thick wolf fur—down to the front of his pants, then back up again, wanting to feel all of him.

They matched each other’s rhythm effortlessly.

Katsuki’s tongue parted Izuku’s lips, tasting, while Izuku’s fingers found purchase in Katsuki’s hair, pulling him closer.

Every touch sparked heat between them, every brush of skin against skin sending shivers across Izuku’s wings.

When Katsuki finally pressed forward, Izuku parted willingly, guiding him with soft insistence.

There was no rush—only steady progression, each movement measured, each gasp and whisper shared between them.

Katsuki’s rough voice broke through in a low growl. “You’re sure… you want this?”

Izuku’s answer was a breathy moan as Katsuki sank in, the warmth of their bodies melding. “Yes,” he whispered, “yes…”

They moved together in soft, synchronized strokes, angelic softness meeting wolf’s strength. Izuku’s wings unfurled slightly, brushing against Katsuki’s sides as he rode each gentle thrust, matching the steady pace Katsuki set.

Their shared heat made the den feel impossibly warm, the storm outside forgotten.

Every sigh, every soft cry, every whisper of each other’s names wove them tighter together—two wild souls finding solace in each other’s bodies, exploring every curve and every feather, every inch of warm skin until the world fell away, leaving only the slow, steady thrum of hearts in perfect unison.

Katsuki’s wolf ears trembled against the heat of their passion, tiny muscles fluttering as each soft moan wracked Izuku’s body beneath him.

He pressed a kiss to the nape of Izuku’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent of pine and rain that clung to those long, tangled curls.

As Katsuki’s hands slid up to cradle Izuku’s head, his fingers threaded through the dark green locks, catching on strands of pale blonde that drifted like ribbons through the midnight waves.

He paused, tracing a single golden highlight between thumb and forefinger.

“Your hair… it’s like sunlight caught in shadow,” he murmured, voice husky, pressing his forehead to Izuku’s. “Just like you.”

Izuku tilted his head back, wings fluttering in quiet delight, his lips parting in a soft, breathless smile as Katsuki’s touch sent another wave of warmth through them both.

Izuku’s wings curled slightly forward now, feather tips brushing over Katsuki’s arms as he rocked his hips in gentle, rhythmic movements.

The brush of those downy feathers sent sparks up Katsuki’s spine, making his fingers flex tighter on Izuku’s thighs.

He could smell everything. Izuku’s scent was like crushed clouds and sun-warmed rain, with something new now, something more primal threaded into it.

His nose twitched, picking it up naturally, and instinctively, his hands gripped harder.

A low, involuntary growl rumbled from his chest. Not threatening—never with Izuku. It was possessive. Protective. 

He tilted his head up, nuzzling into the hollow beneath Izuku’s jaw, scent-marking him without even thinking.

His tongue flicked out, dragging slowly along Izuku’s neck, tasting salt and something sweet and soft, uniquely his.

Izuku gasped, startled, his hands flying to Katsuki’s shoulders for balance. His thighs trembled where they pressed against furred skin.

“You’re…” Izuku whispered, but the words vanished into a breathy moan as Katsuki rolled his hips up in response, meeting him deeper.

“I’m a wolf,” Katsuki said, voice husky, words damp with heat against Izuku’s skin. “And you smell like something that’s mine.”

Izuku flushed, eyes wide and golden, but he didn’t pull away. He leaned in, burying his nose in the soft fur along Katsuki’s chest, sniffing deeply. A small, overwhelmed sound escaped him.

“I like it,” Izuku whispered, dazed. “Y-You’re warm.”

Katsuki’s ears twitched again.

He growled softly in his throat and leaned up, one hand finding the base of Izuku’s wings.

The moment his rough fingers stroked there, Izu­ku jerked and gasped, eyes flying wide, hips stuttering in their rhythm.

“That spot sensitive?” Katsuki muttered, voice dark and knowing now.

Izuku only whimpered in response, nodding, curls bouncing.

Katsuki grinned, sharp teeth flashing just a little, but his hand stayed gentle as it trailed up the base of the wing, smoothing over damaged feathers, giving a low huff of approval.

They moved together with more urgency now.

The den filled with the soft, wet sound of skin meeting skin, of feathers rustling, of breath catching and throats tightening with the promise of something raw and overwhelming. 

Katsuki’s tail thumped once against the floor, then curled tightly around Izuku’s ankle.

Izuku bent forward, kissing him again—messy now, panting against each other’s mouths as they rocked faster.

It was instinct now.

Breath and scent and rhythm.

Katsuki’s grip locked firm on Izuku’s hips as his own control slipped, groaning deeply into the crook of the angel’s neck. 

Izuku’s wings twitched, his hands gripping Katsuki’s shoulders so tight his nails left faint marks.

Then—like the last crack of lightning before the quiet—Izuku gasped, spine arching, wings spreading wide and trembling as release took him.

He pulsed around Katsuki, who growled low, gripping tight as he followed, warmth spilling deep with a rough, broken sound in his throat.

They clung to each other, gasping.

Izuku’s wings slowly drooped down, wrapping around them both like a trembling blanket.

His forehead rested against Katsuki’s. Their chests rose and fell, pressed close—heart to heart, heat to heat.

Katsuki nuzzled against Izuku’s cheek, breath heavy. Izuku’s lips curled into a soft smile. “You smell so good,” he murmured.

Katsuki huffed a laugh, tail twitching slightly again.

His grip on Izuku’s hips tightened as their bodies pulsed together, every rough scrape of fur against feather sending electric sparks through them both. 

Izuku’s wings fluttered erratically, feathers brushing against Katsuki’s chest, the soft brush stoking heat in both their veins.

He pressed forward again, chest arching, lips grazing the sensitive skin at Katsuki’s collarbone. 

He tasted salt and pine, fierce and wild, and for a moment Katsuki’s control snapped—he growled low, tilting Izuku’s face up to crush their mouths together again.

Tongues tangled, slick and urgent, drawing a choked moan from Izuku as sweat and warmth coated their joined forms.

Katsuki’s hands roamed up Izuku’s back, fingers splaying wide across the smooth ribs before trailing down to cup his small, firm ass. 

He guided Izuku’s movements, rolling his hips with deliberate force, each thrust dragging heat deep inside the angel. 

Izuku gasped into the kiss, one hand weaving into Katsuki’s light curls while the other pressed against the rough floorboards, grounding himself.

The scent in the den was intoxicating now: fur and feathers, sweat and sweet musk, mingling with the ever-present tang of smoke.

Izuku’s skin felt aflame under Katsuki’s touch. Each fingertip a burning promise as it traced the gentle hollow below his breast, teasing the soft flesh there.

“Oh…” Izuku’s soft cry echoed, wings fluttering in time with his heartbeat.

The angel’s flush deepened as Katsuki’s thumb brushed the swollen bundle of nerves between his thighs, slick with need. 

Izuku bucked instinctively, pressing himself against the friction, his own fingers trailing down Katsuki’s chest to curl around the base of his cock, stroking slowly.

Katsuki’s breath hitched. The sensation of Izuku’s delicate hand, wet and sure, guiding him, made his ears flatten in pleasure.

He throbbed inside the angel, every movement a charged echo of their sweet desire. 

He leaned up, kissing the curve of Izuku’s jaw, then nipped gently, a feral contrast to the softness of his mouth.

Katsuki’s tail thumped against the furs beneath them, a wild metronome to the soft slaps of skin meeting skin. 

Izuku’s moans grew more urgent, his wings now unfurled wide, brushing over Katsuki’s shoulders in frantic, feathered pulses.

When Izuku’s body began to tremble, hot tears of pleasure glistening at his lashes, Katsuki thrust upward one last time, meeting the angel’s release with his own guttural growl. 

They convulsed together, hearts hammering, breath ragged, until the world tilted into a haze of warmth and aftershocks.

As the afterglow settled, Izuku’s arms loosened around Katsuki’s neck, and Katsuki gently lowered himself back against the furs so Izuku could collapse against his chest. 

Izuku’s flushed cheek rested over Katsuki’s heartbeat, wings folding softly around them both like a trembling cocoon.

The room was silent except for their shared breaths. Katsuki pressed a tender kiss against Izuku’s temple, voice a rough whisper in the warm dark. “You okay?”

Izuku lifted his head just enough to meet his eyes. He managed a small, satisfied smile. “Yes,” he murmured. “More than okay.”

Katsuki’s tail curled around Izuku’s thigh protectively, and together they drifted into a gentle, contented stillness.

Katsuki’s fingers tightened against the furs beneath Izuku as he braced himself, then with a sudden, powerful shift he flipped them both, pinning the angel gently but firmly to the floor. 

Izuku’s wings fanned wide, catching the firelight and casting soft, dancing shadows against the logs.

His pale skin gleamed with sweat, flushed and trembling, every feather outlined like a halo.

Katsuki bent above him, red eyes dark with awe and something fiercer—desire and protectiveness blended into one. 

He just stared for a heartbeat, drinking in the sight of Izuku’s fragile curves framed by those vast, golden wings. 

The angel looked ethereal, as if any moment he might drift away on a wind of feathers.

Then, with deliberate slowness, Katsuki’s gaze dipped down to Izuku’s hollow throat, traced the gentle rise and fall of his chest, before settling at the trembling line where Izuku’s body was most vulnerable.

Izuku’s breath hitched, wings fluttering in a silent plea.

Katsuki’s rough hand reached for Izuku’s hip, pinning him perfectly in place. 

His other hand brushed Izuku’s flushed cheek once—an almost tender gesture—before sliding down in a charged caress, fingertips burning over the curve of his waist and along the arch of his hip.

Izuku’s lashes fluttered shut, lips parting in a soft gasp of anticipation.

Without breaking eye contact, Katsuki lowered his mouth to the sensitive skin just above Izuku’s clit. His breath was warm, whisking across delicate flesh. 

Then his tongue flicked out, tasting the angel—salt and sweet honey—and Izuku’s back arched, trembling against the floorboards.

A soft moan slipped from Izuku’s lips, echoing in the hush of the den.

Katsuki’s tongue moved slowly at first, mapping every slick fold, every quivering nerve. When his teeth grazed lightly, Izuku shivered, hands fisting the furs beneath him.

Katsuki’s ears flicked as he intensified, sliding one hand between Izuku’s thighs to part him wider.

His tongue followed his fingers, drawing a long, low sound of pleasure from the angel below him. 

Izuku’s wings quivered with every pulse of sensation, feathers brushing against Katsuki’s arms. 

His back bowed, pressing his hips up in time with Katsuki’s ministrations. His moans grew louder, breath quickening—raw, beautiful music in the room.

Katsuki paused only to shift pace, then dove back in, lips and tongue working together in a steady, rhythmic dance that had Izuku’s fingers tangling in his hair. 

The angel’s moans turned into cries of bliss, echoing off the wooden walls, and Katsuki just held him there, focused, unyielding, determined to give Izuku every fragment of pleasure he could.

With one final, heated flick of his tongue and a firm, grounding grip on Izuku’s hip, Katsuki drove the angel over the edge again. 

Izuku’s entire body trembled in release, wings fluttering wildly, tears of pleasure shining at the corners of his eyes. He cried out Katsuki’s name, voice wet and broken, as waves of sensation washed over him.

Katsuki rose slowly, leaning in to capture Izuku’s lips in a deep, breathless kiss as the angel’s pulse settled. He pressed Izuku close, wings folding protectively around them both, the firelight warming their spent bodies.

“You’re so perfect,” Katsuki whispered against Izuku’s mouth, voice gentle. “Perfect.”

Izuku’s arms tightened around Katsuki, pressing him close as their bodies glowed. 

One hand tangled gently in Katsuki’s curls, fingers brushing through the coarse strands while the other drifted up to cup those velvety wolf ears, caressing each soft curve.

Katsuki’s breath hitched at the gentle touch of Izuku’s fingertips against his ears, and he tipped his head into Izuku’s hand, eyes half-lidded in blissful surrender.

The angel’s wings folded in around them like a protective cocoon, feathers brushing over Katsuki’s shoulders and neck, soft as whispered promises.

“Izuku…” Katsuki murmured, soft and vulnerable.

He threaded his own fingers through Izuku’s soft hair, feeling the contrast between the angel’s fine curls—cool from the storm—and the gentle heat of his skin.

Izuku pressed a light kiss to the top of Katsuki’s head, the touch feather-light but filled with gratitude. “You…” he whispered, voice tender. “You make me feel safe.”

Katsuki’s heart stuttered at the confession.

He wrapped an arm tighter around Izuku’s waist, nuzzling his cheek against the angel’s temple. “Always,” he promised, his tail curling around Izuku’s leg in a possessive hug.

Katsuki’s grip tightened just a little, possessive and fierce as he pulled Izuku closer, hips pressing harder against the angel’s delicate frame. 

The softness of Izuku’s curls tangled wildly beneath his fingers, but Katsuki’s touch wasn’t gentle anymore. There was roughness now, like a wolf marking his territory, claiming what was his.

Izuku whined, breath hitching as Katsuki’s mouth trailed lower, lips hot against the sensitive skin of his neck.

His wings trembled, feathers ruffling wildly as the pressure built, and with a sudden, sharp intake of breath, Izuku cried out, “God…”

The word hung in the air, trembling and sacred, but Katsuki only chuckled low, dark amusement lighting his eyes. “God, huh?” he murmured against Izuku’s skin. “That’s pretty sinful talk from an angel.”

Izuku’s cheeks flushed deeper, eyes fluttering closed as Katsuki’s teeth grazed the hollow of his throat, sending shivers down his spine.

The rough contrast to Izuku’s beauty made something coil tighter in Katsuki’s chest.

“I’m yours,” Izuku whispered suddenly, voice trembling like a prayer and a promise all at once.

He nipped once more, then dipped lower, hands roaming boldly over the angel’s body, every touch claiming, every kiss marking. 

Izuku’s soft cries filled the space between them, wings fluttering like a wild, sacred banner—fragile and fierce, broken and whole, all tangled up in the rough, relentless love of a wolf who’d finally found his mate.

Katsuki’s rough hands slid over Izuku’s delicate skin, kneading softly at first, then with more strength, working out the tension he could feel coiled beneath the angel’s fragile frame. 

His fingers traced lazy circles along Izuku’s ribs, and the angel’s wings fluttered in response, a soft shiver running through him.

As Katsuki’s hands moved lower, Izuku let out a quiet, surprised laugh, the sound light and airy like wind through leaves.

Katsuki glanced down and noticed a slick, shimmering residue coating his fingers.

He blinked, then smirked.

“Well, look at that,” Katsuki muttered, flicking his fingers through the air like a cat shaking off water. “You’re so wet,”

Izuku’s cheeks flushed a delicate rose, but then his laughter bubbled up again, pure and free. “I… didn’t mean to,” he mumbled, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Katsuki chuckled, his voice sweet but warm. “Don’t worry, angel. I’m not complaining.”

His fingers traced back to Izuku’s ribs, tickling lightly, making the angel squirm and giggle. 

He leaned down again, his breath warm against Izuku’s skin as their lips met in a slow, gentle kiss.

Izuku’s wings fluttered lightly, his body trembling with the delicate heat of the moment.

When they parted, Katsuki’s gaze darkened with a fierce tenderness as his rough fingers trailed over Izuku’s ribs, tracing the smooth curve with surprising gentleness. 

His touch moved lower, brushing lightly over the soft swell of Izuku’s nipples, sensitive, and pink. Katsuki’s paw like fingers lingered there, teasing and worshipping with a careful, precious patience.

Izuku shivered, a quiet breath escaping him as Katsuki’s hands mapped every vulnerable inch, each touch a silent promise, rough yet reverent.

“Got you,” Katsuki murmured, voice low and steady, fingers continuing their gentle exploration.

Katsuki’s fingers traced delicate paths over Izuku’s ribs and the soft peaks of his nipples, the roughness of his touch a sharp contrast to the angel’s perfect, trembling skin.

Izuku’s breath hitched, wings fluttering nervously as Katsuki’s hands grew more confident, more sure, exploring, teasing, learning every sensitive spot.

With slow patience, Katsuki dipped his head, lips brushing along the curve of Izuku’s neck before trailing back down to the soft curve of his chest. 

His mouth finally found the peaks of Izuku’s nipples, sucking gently, the faintest flick of his tongue sending shivers through the angel’s body. 

Izuku’s soft gasps filled the quiet den, raw and heavenly.

Katsuki’s hands slid lower, fingers trailing along Izuku’s sides, kneading and teasing, igniting a warmth that blossomed beneath the pale skin.

Izuku’s wings fluttered wildly now, feathers brushing against Katsuki’s arms as he arched into the touch, eyes fluttering closed.

The wolf pressed closer, his breath hot against Izuku’s flushed skin, lips finding every vulnerable patch—nipping softly, licking slowly, worshipping the angel’s body with a fierce tenderness. 

Each movement was a deliberate careful balance of passion and care, building a steady, aching pleasure that made Izuku’s breath catch again and again.

Katsuki’s hands moved with increasing urgency, fingertips tracing the delicate curves of Izuku’s ribs, sending sparks through him with every touch. 

The angel’s soft moans grew louder, wings folding around them both as if to hold in the moment, the sacred bond deepening with every whispered gasp.

Katsuki stood silently for a moment, eyes flickering over Izuku’s perfect, shivering form. 

Despite the storm raging outside, inside the small den the only movement was the soft rustle of feathers and the beat of two hearts. 

Katsuki’s fingers twitched, then he pressed closer, the rough warmth of his wolfy chest nearly brushing against Izuku’s skin.

Without a word, Katsuki bent down, sliding his hands carefully beneath Izuku’s ribs. The angel’s body was light in a way that made Katsuki’s usual roughness falter again. 

Still, with steady strength, he lifted Izuku up, cradling him close to keep him warm.

He carried Izuku over to a large bathtub tucked away in the corner of the den. The flickering candlelight casting soft glows across the both of them.

Gently, Katsuki placed the angel into the tub and began to fill it, before reaching out to wash Izuku’s arms first, tracing slow, careful circles along the slender limbs. 

His touch was tentative but patient, reverent even, as if each stroke was a silent apology for the harsh world outside.

Katsuki then gently eased Izuku’s wings into the water, the warmth enveloping him like a gentle embrace.

His fingers moved slowly and reverently, washing away the grime and cold of the storm, tracing the contours of Izuku’s slick skin with a tenderness that made the angel’s cheeks flush again.

The scent of the candles mixed with the subtle, earthy smell of Katsuki’s own fur and sweat comforted the anxious flutter that had settled into him.

Izuku’s eyes softened, breath catching softly. “You know… I was told wolves aren’t nice,” he murmured, voice trembling just a little.

Katsuki smirked. “…Not all of us,” he said quietly. “Guess you caught me on a good day.”

He continued washing, fingers moving over Izuku’s ribs and the tender curve of his waist with gentle care. 

When he reached Izuku’s hair, Katsuki slid his fingers through the damp curls, massaging the roots slowly, careful not to pull. 

Izuku shivered at the unfamiliar but soothing sensation.

Then, with the same gentle attention, Katsuki’s hands moved lower, reaching between Izuku’s thighs, washing with care, making sure to be both respectful and thorough.

Izuku’s breath hitched slightly, legs trembling slightly, but he didn't pull away.

Once clean, Katsuki’s hands slid under Izuku again, lifting him up from the warm bath. Katsuki stayed close, brushing wet curls away from Izuku’s flushed face.

His voice dropped to a gentle murmur. “Can you fly?”

Izuku shook his head slowly, cheeks flushed. “…No. I haven’t flown since I fell.”

Katsuki’s fingers lingered on the wet curls at the nape of Izuku’s neck. “Then I’ll help you,” he promised quietly. “Until you can.”

Izuku’s lips curved into a shy, hopeful smile and let out a soft, contented sigh as Katsuki’s strong hands lifted him out gently from the warm water. 

The firelight flickered across his dripping, flushed skin, casting a delicate shine that made his eyes shimmer like tiny suns. 

Droplets of water clung to his long curls and the tips of his expansive wings were wet, too, feathers slightly ruffled from the water but glowing with an otherworldly softness.

Katsuki’s gaze lingered, unblinking and quietly awed.

His flushed cheeks, the gentle curve of his lips, and the way his lashes cast soft shadows over his skin—it all struck Katsuki in a way he hadn’t expected.

For a moment, words failed him. 

Katsuki held Izuku closer, fingers tracing the outline of his shoulder, careful not to disturb those shimmering wings. 

“You’re… beautiful,” Katsuki whispered, voice low and sincere, almost like a secret.

Izuku’s cheeks turned red, eyes flickering up to meet Katsuki’s with a shy, grateful smile.

His fingers moved slowly, almost hesitantly, as they brushed against Katsuki’s chest, tracing the rough texture of wolf fur. 

The contrast between his own smooth, pale skin and Katsuki’s warm, coarse fur made his breath catch in a soft gasp.

Then, as if drawn by instinct, his hand reached up to brush over the sharp curve of Katsuki’s wolf ears, his touch gentle and reverent. 

Katsuki’s ears twitched at the sensation, a faint flicker of surprise crossing his usual stoic expression.

Izuku’s voice, soft and curious, broke the quiet. “Where’s my robe?” he asked, eyes wide but no less soft, blinking up at Katsuki with innocent wonder.

Katsuki let out a low huff, the faintest blush flushing his cheeks, “I hung it up to dry earlier,” He shrugged, the casualness only half masking how much he wanted to protect Izuku from the cold.

Izuku nodded slowly, his gaze flickering between Katsuki’s bare chest and those attentive eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured, a slight shiver running through his slender frame.

Katsuki glanced down at himself and then back to Izuku, the wolf’s tail flicking softly behind him. His eyes never left Izuku’s face, still flushed and perfect, still so achingly beautiful in the candlelight.

Izuku’s fingers found the soft fabric of the robe hanging nearby, the warmth of it almost surprising after the chill it gave him before.

He slipped it on slowly, the gentle weight settling over his bare shoulders like a quiet comfort.

Relief bloomed inside him. The fabric was soft, perfect like a whisper against his skin, and it cradled his curves perfectly.

Katsuki watched, a slow grin spreading across his face. But then, just as quickly, the grin twisted into a pout. “You look too beautiful in that,” he muttered, half teasing, half begrudging.

Izuku tilted his head, eyes sparkling with shy amusement. “Are you cold?” he asked quietly, watching the subtle twitch of Katsuki’s ears.

Katsuki shrugged, his wolf tail flicking lazily behind him. “I’m a wolf,” he said simply. “Used to it.”

Izuku smiled—small, bright, a little mischievous—and with a quick shake, he ruffled his damp wing feathers, sending tiny droplets flicking into the air. Then he threw his curls back, letting the water drip down his neck as he looked at Katsuki with a newfound sparkle.

“Well, you might be used to it, but I’m not,” Izuku said softly, warmth curling in his chest. “So… you should keep me warm.”

Izuku let out a soft huff, fingers tangled in his wild curls as he tried to smooth them down. “—My hair’s such a mess…” he whined, strands sticking to his flushed skin.

Katsuki caught the little frustration and smirked, eyes flickering with a teasing warmth. “Want me to braid it for you, angel?” he asked softly.

Izuku’s cheeks flushed deeper, and he blinked, caught off guard by the nickname. “Angel…” he repeated quietly, almost shy.

He settled down next to Katsuki, curling slightly as he offered himself up, trusting.

Katsuki’s hands moved with surprising tenderness, weaving through Izuku’s curls, braiding carefully. 

Izuku shifted closer, the soft weight of his braided curls brushing against Katsuki’s forearm with a delicate whisper. 

His golden-ringed eyes met Katsuki’s softened gaze, filled with a quiet worry that tugged at the air between them. “If this blizzard doesn’t clear soon… I won’t be able to get back to the sky,” he says, soft and almost nervous.

Katsuki’s brow furrowed barely, his wolfish instincts sharpening into protective concern. “You really okay with being stuck here?”

Izuku offered a small, serene smile that barely lifted the corners of his lips.

Without answering, he turned and leaned in and pressed a gentle, tentative kiss against the soft curve of Katsuki’s wolf ear.

Katsuki’s body tensed, his ears twitching in surprise before his tail slowly wrapped around Izuku’s waist, pulling him closer in a possessive, warm embrace.

Izuku’s large, half-dry wings curled softly around them, feathers brushing against Katsuki’s skin like a living, protective blanket, adding a fragile warmth to the cold night.

Then Izuku’s expression darkened slightly, the glow in his eyes dimming with a flicker of fear. “If anyone found out you knew angels were still alive… they’d kill you,” he whispered, voice laced with urgency and quiet dread.

Katsuki scoffed, a low, defiant sound rumbling in his chest. “Let them try.” Without hesitation, he captured Izuku’s lips in a fierce kiss.

When they finally broke apart, Katsuki’s eyes softened, shining with awe and genuine admiration.

“You’re stronger than you look, angel,” he murmured, voice ragged but sincere, “stronger than anyone’s ready for.”

Izuku’s breath caught as Katsuki’s words settled between them, a warmth spreading through his chest despite the chill. 

Slowly, he reached up, his fingers trembling slightly as they traced the sharp line of Katsuki’s jaw before leaning in. 

Their lips met again, gentle, then deepened with a quiet, desperate need. Izuku’s wings fluttered softly behind him, keeping time with his racing heart.

Katsuki responded without hesitation, one hand weaving through Izuku’s damp curls while the other pressed firmly at his lower back. 

His wolf tail slid around Izuku’s waist, curling protectively over his stomach beneath the soft folds of the robe, anchoring them closer.

When they broke apart again, Izuku’s cheeks glowed with a soft blush, his eyes shimmering with love. Katsuki caught his gaze and offered a slow, sure smile.

“I’ll help you get back to the sky,” Katsuki promised quietly, low and sure, “no matter what it takes.”

The storm had quieted sometime during the night.

Not stopped—no, the snow still drifted outside in lazy flurries—but the wind had gone soft, like it had sighed and decided to rest.

Katsuki woke first.

His eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the golden morning light that trickled in through the cracks of the den’s wood-planked walls.

It touched everything in a hazy glow. Especially the curve of pale feathers and gentle rise and fall of a sleeping chest pressed against his.

Izuku.

Izuku’s eyelashes fluttered as he stirred, curled against Katsuki’s chest.

Almost immediately, Katsuki’s wolf ears twitched, picking up the faintest hum of Izuku’s waking breath.

His tail, thick and brushy, slid around Izuku’s waist and gave an experimental flick, brushing the angel’s ribs in gentle, tickling sweeps.

“Mmph…” he murmured, a sleepy smile tugging at his perfect lips as that tail brushed lower, tracing over his belly.

He wriggled just enough to catch Katsuki’s gaze, golden-ringed eyes half-lidded with contentment.

Katsuki gave a quiet huff of amusement, his tail wrapping a bit tighter, gentle claws flexing in the furs beneath them. He pressed a nuzzle into Izuku’s curls, breathing in the sweet, earthy scent.

The angel lay curled up in his arms, all tucked in and sleepy under Katsuki’s thick fur blanket.

His cheek was pressed to Katsuki’s collarbone, and his long curls spilled over both of them like moss and silk.

His wings were drooped around them—not perfectly folded, and one of them fluttered faintly as he breathed in.

Katsuki didn’t move.  

His tail, already tightly wrapped around Izuku’s waist beneath the robe, gave a small twitch against his nipples. He nuzzled his nose into Izuku’s curls, breathing in the soft, faintly sweet scent instead. 

Izuku stirred after a few moments, his lashes fluttering before golden eyes blinked open.

For a moment, he looked unsure—like he’d forgotten where he was. But then his gaze met Katsuki’s, and everything in his face softened.

“Hi,” Izuku whispered, drifting his hand to cup one of Katsuki’s nubby ears. It quivered under his touch, fur fluffing as Katsuki blinked open both eyes.

“Morning, angel,” Katsuki replied, voice rough and warm. He brushed his fingers along Izuku’s side again, tail brushing again in lazy strokes that made the angel giggle.

Izuku blinked, then smiled again though it was sleepy. He shifted just a little, enough to rest his head more comfortably on Katsuki’s chest.

One of his hands clutched weakly at the blanket, the other curled against Katsuki’s stomach.

“You’re warm,” Izuku mumbled.

Katsuki huffed a quiet breath, rubbing gentle circles into the angel’s back with his fingertips. “You’re not,” he said, frowning slightly. “Still cold?”

“Mhm.” Izuku rubbed his cheek against him like a sleepy cat. “My wings still feel heavy.”

Katsuki pressed his lips to the top of Izuku’s head. His hand slid under the robe to touch his waist—warm, but not enough. Not what Izuku needed.

“I’ll take you out later, when the sky’s clearer. Sit with you till you're full again,” Katsuki murmured. “You don’t have to move much. I’ll hold you there.”

Izuku’s cheeks flushed, and he looked up at him slowly. “You always want to hold me,” he said softly.

Katsuki smiled again, softer this time. “Can’t help it.”

His tail tightened slightly around Izuku’s middle, while his palm cupped the back of Izuku’s head, petting through his hair like he was the wolf.

“Do you…” Izuku started, then paused. “Do you still want to be with me? Even though I don’t know when I’ll fly again…?”

Katsuki pulled him closer.

“Of course, angel. I promised you, didn’t I?”

Izuku looked like he might cry for a second, but instead, he buried his face in Katsuki’s chest again and clung to him tighter.

They lay there like that a while longer, until a soft flicker of sunlight finally broke through the clouds and lit the far wall.

Katsuki noticed first.

“Angel,” he whispered, nuzzling Izuku’s temple. “…The light’s here.”

Izuku blinked at the glow, then smiled—a little weak, a little dreamy. “Will you take me?”

Katsuki sat up carefully, arms still around him, tail never leaving his waist.

“Always.”

He lifted Izuku like he weighed nothing and cradled him to his chest.

The robe slipped slightly at the shoulder, but Katsuki tugged it back up, brushing his lips against the flushed skin as he set him down.

Sunlight spilled into the den in soft beams, warming the floor and lighting dust motes in the air like tiny floating stars.

Katsuki watched from the edge of the fur bedding as Izuku wandered, bare feet quiet against the floorboards, wings trailing like soft sails behind him.

The robe he’d slipped into hung loose on his frame, the collar sagging from one shoulder again, fluttering just slightly as he moved.

Thin, silky fabric clung to the damp of his skin in places, still drying from their bath, and Katsuki’s gaze followed him with a soft warmth.

Izuku padded over to the shelves first—low, rough-hewn, and cluttered with trinkets. He leaned in, tilting his head as a few of his curls slipped forward.

The robe shifted, and the curve of his back was briefly visible before his wings lifted, twitching slightly, covered it.

He sniffed at a jar curiously.

Katsuki let out a quiet huff of a laugh from where he sat. “You look so… fascinated,”

Izuku turned, golden eyes blinking at him. “I’ve never seen… homes like this.”

He scratched the back of his head, half-dressed still, one ear twitching as Izuku came closer to inspect a low table stacked with folded pelts and dried herbs.

Izuku crouched down, poking one gently. His nose scrunched.

“Smells spicy,” he mumbled.

“That’s winterroot,” Katsuki replied, leaning back on his hands. “Keeps the frostbite off.”

Izuku nodded solemnly, poking it again, then wandering to the hearth.

The stone there was blackened with soot, the iron kettle empty but warm. He ran his fingers over the edge, wings brushing the floor behind him.

When he turned again, Katsuki was already looking at him—staring, really—with a weird softness to his face.

“What?” Izuku asked, tilting his head.

Katsuki blinked. His ears flicked once. “Nothin’. You just… you look weird here. In a good way.”

Izuku smiled, his bare feet padding across the floor again until he was in front of Katsuki. He stopped, swaying slightly in place, robe fluttering around his knees. “Do I not fit?”

“You fit too well,” he muttered, sitting up straighter. His tail lifted behind him, curling lazily. “That’s the weird part.”

Izuku's face flushed, and his wings twitched shyly.

The wolf-boy reached out, caught the edge of the robe before it slipped any lower, and tugged it gently back over Izuku’s bare shoulder again.

“You’re still damp,” he muttered.

“I’m drying,” Izuku replied, smiling again. 

Katsuki’s hand lingered on his arm for a moment. “You can explore more later. I’ll show you the burrow under the trapdoor, too. It’s warmer. Safe.”

“Trapdoor?” Izuku repeated, curious.

But instead of answering, Katsuki gave his wrist a light tug and pulled him down into his lap.

His tail instinctively looped back around Izuku’s waist, fluff brushing against his ribs, and Izuku giggled softly, settling into him like he belonged there.

“Later,” Katsuki murmured, resting his chin on the angel’s shoulder. “You still smell like snow. I’ll take you outside when it gets a bit warmer, too.”

Izuku’s wings fluttered, then curled around them again like a cocoon. He shifted a little where he sat on Katsuki’s lap, one leg tucked between them and the other curled under.

His wings rustled softly behind him, their tips brushing the floor as he leaned back just enough to see Katsuki’s face.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

Instead of answering right away, Izuku reached up with both hands, gentle, a little clumsy, and started ruffling Katsuki’s messy blond hair.

His fingers worked their way through the thick tufts, pushing up the stubborn cowlicks until it was all sticking in different directions.

Katsuki blinked, clearly surprised, but didn’t stop him.

Then Izuku’s hands moved higher—toward the soft wolf ears perched at the top of Katsuki’s head.

He cupped one gently, brushing his fingers down its curve. The ear twitched in his palm.

“They’re so warm,” Izuku murmured, eyes wide with interest.

Katsuki let out a soft growl—rumbling in his chest and his tail gave a lazy thump against the floor. “What are you doin’, angel?”

Izuku just smiled, now running his fingers behind the base of the other ear, right where fur met scalp. Katsuki made a small, involuntary noise in his throat, his eyelids fluttering.

“You like it,” Izuku whispered.

Katsuki grumbled something too low to understand and leaned into the touch anyway, his ears flicking as if they didn’t know whether to relax or stand at attention.

Izuku giggled, cheeks flushed and hair falling into his eyes. He smoothed some of the fur flat, then leaned back again, wings shifting with the motion.

“I want to go outside.”

Katsuki opened one eye, giving him a skeptical look. “It’s still freezing out. You barely warmed up.”

“But the sun’s out.” Izuku’s fingers curled around a lock of his own damp hair. “And I need sunlight. Remember?”

Katsuki sighed through his nose, looking at him for a long second. Then he looked at the robe, which was still loose and thin and barely clinging to Izuku’s narrow frame.

His tail gave one flick of irritation.

“You’ll freeze those pretty feathers off,” he muttered, but he was already moving—lifting Izuku up with both arms and standing without letting him go.

Izuku let out a small surprised sound and grabbed onto his shoulders. “You’re so strong,” he said, a little breathless.

Katsuki’s ears twitched.

“You’re so light,” he muttered back.

He carried him toward the front of the den, where the wooden door was cracked slightly open, letting a little light and cold in. Snow glittered outside, but the sun was full and gold and low in the sky.

It bathed the frozen world in soft warmth, even if the air itself bit at the skin.

Katsuki set Izuku down gently right by the threshold. “Just a few minutes,” he warned, stepping back to grab a heavier pelt. “If you start shivering, I’m draggin’ you back in.”

Izuku looked up at him, smiling like the sun had already started working. “Okay,” he said sweetly. “Just a few minutes.”

Then he stepped barefoot into the snow, wings stretching wide, catching the light like glass.

It was subtle at first. A hush in the wind, the snowflakes drifting slower, almost like the world itself held its breath.

Then came the glow.

It started at his skin, that flushed porcelain tone brightening ever so slightly, and then his wings—

They unfurled.

Katsuki stood in the doorway, silent, his arms crossed loosely with the pelt still draped over one.

Izuku’s wings stretched wide, the full span catching the light like snow crystals, every feather catching on gold. They looked weightless, impossible—far too large for someone so small.

A few loose feathers fluttered free and drifted down onto the snow, pale and iridescent like slivers of moonlight.

Izuku tipped his head back, curls tumbling down his back, long and curling and a little tangled from sleep.

His lips parted on a quiet breath.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He just stood there, barefoot, arms loose at his sides as the sun bathed his skin and feathers and hair.

Katsuki felt something thrum in his chest—low and strange and unexplainable. Like instinct, like reverence.

He’d seen a lot of things in the wilds, had fought beasts with horns like mountains and faced down snowstorms that clawed skin from bone. But this…

This was something else.

His ears twitched, tail flicking slowly behind him as he stared.

Izuku’s hair looked like spun gold now, with streaks of pale blonde covering the green.

His greenish eyes glowed faintly beneath his lashes, and the air around him shimmered, like heat rising from fire but gentler. 

He looked holy.

Katsuki’s voice was shaky when he finally managed to use it. “...Izuku,”

Izuku blinked slowly, then turned just enough to look back at him.

The glow softened, became something more intimate, like a candle lit only for Katsuki’s eyes. He didn’t smile, but there was something in his gaze that softened the air between them.

“I needed that,” he whispered, breath clouding faintly in the winter air. “Thank you.”

Katsuki swallowed. His throat was tight, for some reason.

“You—” He cleared his throat and stepped closer, footsteps crunching lightly in the snow. “…You look like a sunrise.”

Izuku looked down at himself like he wasn’t sure if that was a compliment, then laughed very softly. His laugh was breathy, like he didn’t get to do it often. His wings slowly folded back in, still shimmering faintly.

Katsuki reached him, holding out the heavy pelt. “You warm enough now?”

Izuku nodded, but didn’t reach for the fur. Instead, he stepped closer, just enough that his wings brushed Katsuki’s arms, and tipped his head against the taller boy’s shoulder.

Katsuki grunted but didn’t move away.

“I like the sun,” Izuku murmured.

“Yeah,” Katsuki said, quiet, “I can tell.”

They stood there for a moment longer, wrapped in the light, staring at each other before Izuku pulled back slightly, just enough to glance backwards, his golden eyes squinting at the pale blue sky stretching over the snow-draped trees.

He stepped away from Katsuki slowly, his bare feet silent in the snow despite the chill. His wings twitched behind him—eager, maybe. Restless.

Katsuki watched him, the pelt still draped in his arms. “What’re you doing?”

Izuku tilted his head, curls falling into his face, then glanced over his shoulder. “Trying,” he said quietly, voice soft with embarrassment, “to fly.”

Katsuki’s ears twitched. “…Fly? Already?”

“I’m not hurt,” Izuku said, a little defensive, a faint pout pulling at his pink lips. “Just tired.”

His wings unfurled again, big and sweeping and beautiful. They caught the light better this way, though some feathers still looked slightly ragged, their ends frayed or bent. He bent his knees slightly, like a dancer about to leap, arms lifted loosely for balance.

Katsuki took a step forward, eyes narrowing. “Hey—don’t push it.”

But Izuku was already trying.

His wings beat downward once, twice, stirring up a swirl of snow around his ankles.

For a split second, his body lifted, floating—just a few feet off the ground. His toes left the snow, feathers scattering light in all directions. His expression turned bright with wonder, eyes wide, lips parted.

Then he dropped.

Not hard—his feet met the snow with a soft thud, but his wings flared out in reflex to catch the fall. He stumbled a little, arms swinging slightly to steady himself.

Katsuki was there in an instant.

“Hey,” he muttered, grabbing Izuku’s waist with one arm and steadying him. “You just got your light back. You can’t expect to shoot up to the clouds like nothing happened.”

Izuku didn’t answer right away, just blinked down at the snow. His cheeks reddened again, either from exertion or embarrassment, maybe both. Then he looked up, his eyes shining even though he clearly felt defeated.

“It’s not that I thought I’d get far,” he murmured. “I just… wanted to feel the sky.”

Katsuki sighed, his grip tightening slightly around Izuku’s waist. “You will,” he said. “Just give it time. Your wings are still busted.”

Izuku looked over his shoulder at them, giving a small sniff. “They feel heavy.”

“They look heavy.”

That earned a soft laugh, breath puffing in the winter air. Izuku leaned into Katsuki’s side just a little, letting himself be held, one wing wrapping gently around them both again.

He was still glowing faintly from the sunlight, but now it was warm and sleepy.

Katsuki stared down at him, at the long curls tangled in golden streaks, at his too-pale skin and bare ankles, at the softness of him despite those wings built for flight.

“You’ll fly again,” Katsuki said, quieter now. “And when you do, I wanna be there.”

Izuku blinked up at him, surprised. “Why?”

Katsuki’s ears flicked, a bit of pink coloring his cheeks. “So I can watch,” he muttered. “So I can say I knew you before you went back up.”

Izuku smiled, slow and a little shy. “You make it sound like I’m leaving forever.”

Katsuki glanced away, ears flattening. “Aren’t you?”

The angel was quiet for a long time. Then he leaned in close, resting his forehead against Katsuki’s chest.

“No,” he whispered.

And Katsuki, startled into stillness, didn’t answer right away. Just wrapped his tail around Izuku’s legs, shielding him from the snow.

Izuku giggled—a light, breathy sound that shimmered in the air. It startled Katsuki a little, made his ears twitch before he turned to scowl (not really scowl) down at him.

“...I saw a village nearby,” Izuku said suddenly, the laughter still curling in his voice, “I want to see it.”

His cheeks were flushed, the tips of his ears pink from the cold and maybe from the closeness between them.

The way the light caught on his damp curls made the strands glint honey-blonde in places, and the faint glow of sunlight still clung to his skin like the remnants of a dream.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “You shouldn’t go anywhere,” he said gruffly, stepping in front of him slightly like he could block out the idea. “You’re still cold. You can barely fly, let alone walk around showing those wings off to every damn person down the mountain.”

Izuku’s pout formed instantly—small and soft and ridiculous. “But I want to,” he murmured. “I want to see what the world is like. I haven’t… really seen it.”

Katsuki stared at him. His tail twitched once, curling low behind him like a whip of thought.

There was something about that voice—hopeful but unsure, like Izuku didn’t think he’d be allowed.

Like someone had always told him no before.

Katsuki grumbled under his breath and ran a hand through his thick hair.

Then, with a long-suffering sigh, he snatched a huge fur-lined coat from a hanger beside the threshold of his door and gruffly held it out.

Izuku blinked.

Katsuki didn’t meet his eyes. “If you’re gonna wander around, then at least cover yourself up.”

The coat was huge, heavy, and far too long for Izuku’s small frame.

He took it anyway, smiling a little, and slipped it on. His arms vanished in the sleeves, and the hem brushed against his ankles, hiding most of the delicate shimmer of his robe.

Izuku smiled again, wrapping the coat tightly around himself, burying his nose in the thick collar that smelled like fur and woodsmoke.

Katsuki looked at him then—really looked—and this time he couldn't hide the blush on his cheeks.

He looked… adorable. Small. Soft, warm now. His long curls peeked out from the top of the coat’s collar, and his wings were tucked neatly behind him, soft and snowy and still a little bent from the fall.

“Thank you,” Izuku said, peeking up at him.

Katsuki grunted. “Just don’t wander too far from me, angel.”

Izuku’s smile widened, and he tugged the coat tighter, letting it swallow him whole as he stepped closer to Katsuki, brushing against his side like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The wind picked up a little, but with the coat wrapped around him and the wolf-boy at his side, Izuku didn’t shiver once.

The snow outside was powdery and untouched, a quiet white world stretching just beyond the mouth of the den.

Izuku stood near the edge, Katsuki’s heavy coat swallowing his frame, sleeves past his hands and hem dragging behind.

His bare feet pressed into the snow—small, pale, flushed pink from the cold.

Katsuki noticed.

He was padding just behind him, part-wolf still—ears sharp atop his head, his tail flicking lazily as it trailed behind him. He watched the way Izuku shifted from foot to foot, the chill clearly biting at his skin even though the boy tried not to complain.

“You okay to walk like this?” Katsuki asked, low and gruff. His golden eyes dropped to the small feet making faint prints in the snow.

Izuku nodded quickly. “Mhm. It’s fine.”

Katsuki frowned. “Your feet are turning pink.”

“They do that,” Izuku mumbled, clearly trying to be brave, curls falling into his flushed face. “It’s okay.”

But Katsuki just rolled his eyes and turned halfway.

Without a word, he shifted his weight and let his thick tail sweep out and curl into a low arc in the snow—placing it carefully right in Izuku’s path like a cushion.

“Step on it,” he muttered, not meeting his eyes. “So you’re not on the snow.”

Izuku blinked. His mouth opened like he was about to protest, then closed again. His lashes lowered slightly as he looked down at the plush sweep of golden fur.

“Won’t it hurt?” he asked quietly. “I thought tails were sensitive…”

Katsuki just shrugged one shoulder, like it didn’t matter. His ears flicked, once—then flattened a little against his hair.

“Just step on it.”

Izuku hesitated, then very gently lifted one foot—and placed it on Katsuki’s thick tail.

The fur was soft. Warmer than the snow, but not hot, just cozy. His other foot followed, barely pressing his weight down, and his whole body tensed as he blushed.

Katsuki didn’t flinch or growl. He just stood there, tail slightly flexing beneath the angel’s careful steps, letting Izuku balance.

“I-Is this okay…?” Izuku mumbled, his voice small now.

Katsuki still wouldn’t look at him. “You’re fine.”

And somehow, that made Izuku’s cheeks go even redder.

The snowflakes caught in his curls as he stood there, his feet warming up again, watching Katsuki with something like awe.

Even his breath seemed to catch when Katsuki’s tail shifted just enough to steady him.

“Thank you,” Izuku whispered.

Katsuki didn’t reply. But his tail stayed right where it was, firm beneath the angel’s pink feet, even as his ears twitched and his cheeks flushed just a little darker.

He shifted his weight just slightly on Katsuki’s tail, trying to adjust without putting too much pressure. But the moment he moved, Katsuki’s ears twitched sharply—flicking in that animal way that always caught Izuku off guard.

He froze. “Oh—!”

Without thinking, Izuku stepped off, curls bouncing and wings giving a soft rustle behind him. “I’m sorry!” he blurted, eyes wide with guilt. “I—I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

Katsuki turned, his brows lifting slightly. His breath came out in a visible puff, warm against the cold.

“You didn’t hurt me,” he said simply. “It just… tickled.”

Izuku blinked. “It tickled?”

“You’re too light,” Katsuki muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. His ears flicked again, this time slower, and his tail gave a lazy sweep across the snow. “It’s strange.”

Izuku looked down again, a flustered warmth rising in his face. “Oh… I thought maybe I was too heavy.”

Katsuki looked at him for a long moment, eyes narrowing—not in irritation, but as if he were sizing something up.

Then, wordlessly, he rolled his shoulders and shifted.

Fur spread fast across his arms, chest, and legs. His body crouched lower as his limbs reshaped, his form growing bulkier and more grounded.

In seconds, he‘d transformed, golden and strong, a massive wolf standing in the snow with steam rising faintly from his back.

He looked over his shoulder, ears alert. “Hop on,” he said, voice lower now, rougher from the shift but still unmistakably his.

Izuku’s lips parted. “W-What? Really?—Wait, you can talk?”

“You’re cold,” Katsuki said. “Your feet are already red again. Just get on. It'll be warmer.”

Izuku hesitated. He pressed his hands to his cheeks to calm the heat gathering there, though it barely helped.

Still, he took a step forward. Then another.

His hands touched Katsuki’s fur—thick and warm and  perfectly soft. He paused again, then climbed up carefully, heart fluttering.

The coat slipped open slightly as he moved, and the tips of his wings curled inward as he straddled the wolf’s broad back.

Katsuki stood steady beneath him.

Izuku curled his arms gently around Katsuki’s neck, his face brushing the fur just behind one twitching ear. “You’re so fluffy,” he whispered, his voice barely audible if it weren't for the fact that he wasn't so close.

Katsuki huffed, starting into the woods, snow crunching beneath his heavy paws.

Izuku felt his chest press softly to Katsuki’s back with every step, the steady rhythm of the wolf’s breathing calming him.

Izuku settled more securely on Katsuki’s broad back, but as the wolf moved through the soft snow, the robe beneath him began to shift and slide against the thick fur.

He let out a small startled gasp as his weight caused the fabric to slide, and for a moment he felt unbalanced.

Katsuki’s ears flicked back anxiously. “Are you alright up there?” he asked, voice gentle but concerned, footsteps slowing to a halt.

Izuku nodded, cheeks still flushed from the cold and the closeness. “I… I’m slipping,” he admitted, hands gripping lightly at the base of Katsuki’s neck. “The robe’s too smooth.”

Katsuki dipped his head, allowing Izuku to dismount without straining himself too much, then shifted his tail so it curled into a soft, furry cushion at his haunches. “Sit there,” he instructed, voice soft. “That’ll help.”

Izuku climbed on carefully, draping the edge of the robe over the coil of tail and smoothing it flat until it formed a little seat.

He tested his weight, the fabric staying put against the fur. Satisfied, he sat back up, robe now tucked beneath him like a makeshift saddle.

Katsuki gave a small, approving nod, ears perking forward.

He offered his back once more, and Izuku leaned forward, settling comfortably with a soft sigh.

“There,” Katsuki murmured. “Better?”

Izuku glanced back over his shoulder, goldish-green eyes bright with gratitude. “Much better,” he whispered, nestling into the folds of the robe.

His wings tucked closer, and he wrapped his arms gently around Katsuki’s neck.

The edge of the forest finally gave way to the soft glow of lanterns and the low murmur of life—the village.

Izuku’s eyes widened as he looked around, taking in the cozy cottages with their snow-dusted roofs, smoke curling from chimneys like gentle whispers into the pale sky.

Warm light spilled from windows, flickering like tiny stars against the cold night.

He leaned forward slightly, the robe-padded cushion shifting as Katsuki slowed his pace, allowing Izuku to drink in the scene with quiet awe.

The air smelled of smoke and baked bread, mingling with the crisp scent fresh snow.

“Never seen a place like this,” Izuku murmured softly, voice almost lost in the gentle bustle around them.

Katsuki’s wolf ears twitched. “You’ve been up in the clouds too long,” he said with a teasing grin, voice low but warm. “This is home for me—and maybe for you too, for a little while.”

Izuku shifted, wings fluttering slightly beneath the coat. He smiled shyly and reached out to ruffle Katsuki’s wolf ears.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered. “Like magic.”

Katsuki let out a quiet chuckle, tail flicking against the snow. “It is,” he said. 

Izuku’s gaze lingered on the villagers passing by, their laughter and chatter weaving into the night like a comforting song. 

Izuku shifted carefully, the soft fabric of the robe giving way beneath him as he eased himself off Katsuki’s broad back.

His bare feet touched the cold snow, sending a slight shiver through him, but he didn’t mind.

The village air was crisp and alive, full of scents and sounds he’d never known before.

Katsuki’s wolf ears flicked as he watched Izuku descend, a slow smile tugging at his lips. Without a word, his form began to change again. The sharp lines of his jaw softened, his posture lowered, and thick silver fur blossomed across his skin.

Izuku smiled shyly, his wings folding slightly as he reached up to stroke Katsuki’s cheek.

The sensation was rougher than he expected, but comforting in its earthiness.

Katsuki let out a low, rumbling sound and nuzzled Izuku gently, his warm breath brushing against Izuku’s flushed cheeks.

Izuku watched Katsuki fully shift back into his half-wolf form with quiet fascination, still brushing a hand gently over the soft fur on his cheek. 

The village around them hummed softly with life. The glow from lanterns casting warm pools of light on snow-covered paths, and the faint sounds of chatter drifted from nearby burrows and cozy nests.

The villagers themselves were a lively mix of gentle creatures: small rabbits with twitching noses and soft, fluffy tails; foxes with keen eyes and quick movements; and deer with graceful, watchful glances.

Their fur and feathers brushed softly against their winter cloaks as they moved about, wrapped in warm scarves and hats, their voices low and friendly.

Katsuki glanced toward one of the warmly lit burrows, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Hungry?” he asked, his wolf ears twitching.

Izuku nodded, wings folding neatly behind him. “I’ve never eaten like mortals do,” he admitted softly, voice barely above the whispering wind.

“Well, you’re about to,” Katsuki said with a wide grin, his tail flicking excitedly. “Come on.”

He led Izuku down the village path toward a cozy-looking inn carved into a large tree trunk, its windows glowing invitingly.

Inside, the smell of roasted roots and fresh bread wrapped around them like a warm blanket.

The villagers chatted quietly over steaming bowls and plates piled high with hearty food.

Katsuki pulled out a chair for Izuku in the far end of the room, who sat delicately, curious as ever.

Katsuki ordered for them both, choosing simple dishes—roasted vegetables, warm bread, and a bowl of stew rich with herbs and tender meat.

As the food arrived, Izuku hesitated for a moment, eyes wide with wonder.

Katsuki nudged a piece of warm bread toward him gently. “Try it,” he encouraged softly.

Izuku took the bread with a shy smile, breaking it apart slowly. The taste was warm and comforting, and unlike anything he’d imagined.

He glanced up at Katsuki, cheeks flushing deeper. “It’s… nice,” he whispered.

Katsuki’s tail wagged a little, pleased.

Katsuki leaned back slightly, watching Izuku nibble on the bread with wide, curious eyes.

But beneath that beauty, Izuku’s delicate fingers twitched nervously at the edges of the thick coat Katsuki had draped over his shoulders.

Katsuki noticed the slight tension, the way Izuku shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His brow furrowed, and he asked softly, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Izuku glanced down, cheeks faintly blushed as his fingers tried to adjust beneath the heavy fabric. “My wings…” he murmured, voice barely above the noise around them. “They’re… cramping a little under the coat.”

Katsuki’s expression softened instantly, his wolf ears flicking back with concern. “You want to take it off?” he asked, voice careful.

Izuku shook his head gently, hesitating. “Yeah—I mean, I know I can’t… But… it feels tight, like they can’t breathe.”

Katsuki reached out, fingers brushing lightly along the edge of Izuku’s wings where they poked out just a little.

The feathers were soft but delicate, and Katsuki could feel the slight tension in them. “I get it,” he said quietly. 

He gently tugged the coat a bit looser around Izuku’s shoulders, careful not to crush the large wings beneath.

Izuku relaxed a little, leaning closer as the two settled into a quieter comfort between them.

Izuku’s eyes flickered up to Katsuki’s, shimmering gold rings, hesitating for a moment before whispering, “I want to see more… of your world.”

His voice was quiet but filled with genuine wonder, the flush on his pale cheeks deepening just a little.

Katsuki’s ears twitched at the earnestness in Izuku’s words, and a slow, warm smile spread across his face.

“Well,” Katsuki said softly, brushing a stray curl back from Izuku’s forehead, “there’s plenty to see out there. What would you like to see?”

Izuku’s wings fluttered gently under the loose coat, the hint of excitement mingling with his fragile calm. “I-I don’t know…”

Katsuki’s lips curled into a slow, confident grin. “Alright, angel,” he said, “Then I’ll take you somewhere. Somewhere you’ve never seen before.”

His tail flicked gently, eyes gleaming with a quiet excitement. “You’re gonna like it. But you eat up, first.”

Izuku’s cheeks flushed a little more, a shy smile tugging at his lips as he met Katsuki’s gaze, already feeling a spark of anticipation for whatever waited beyond the village.

Izuku’s slender frame cozily bundled in Katsuki’s oversized coat, the thick fabric swallowing him in the best way.

Katsuki just watched him with a soft grin, ears twitching as Izuku carefully sipped the broth, fingers warming on the rim of the bowl.

Between the last few bites, Izuku’s eyes wandered over the room. The warmth from the food and Katsuki’s presence seeped into his pertect skin, chasing away any lingering chill.

Katsuki leaned closer, voice low and gentle. “Ready?”

Izuku nodded, a shy smile curving his lips. “Yes,”

Katsuki stood, wrapping an arm around Izuku’s shoulders as they left the tavern behind.

The snow crunched beneath their feet as they left, and the world grew quieter as they headed toward the forest’s edge again.

Izuku’s coat billowed softly in the breeze, his wings stretching just enough to catch some air.

They moved through the forest, the crunch of snow underfoot slowly fading as the trees grew denser, their thick branches weaving overhead like a protective roof.

With every step, the cold seemed to loosen its grip, replaced by a soft, comforting warmth that wrapped around them like a gentle hug.

Izuku shivered once, then relaxed, his wide eyes taking in the changing world around them.

Ahead, the trees parted, revealing a hidden glade untouched by winter’s reach.

Here, no snow blanketed the ground. Instead, a thick carpet of long, soft grass stretched beneath their feet, so lush and inviting it seemed to cradle them with every step.

The tall blades whispered as they brushed past Izuku’s thighs, cool and silky like a thousand gentle touches.

Delicate flowers glowed faintly in shades of blue, purple, and silver, scattered like stars across the meadow.

A crystal-clear stream curved lazily through the clearing, its water singing softly over smooth stones.

Around them, quiet creatures watched with curious eyes. A small deer-like animal with glowing orbs, hid in the grass.

The air was alive with the sweet scent of moss and blossoms, carrying a peaceful buzz that filled the space between them.

Izuku’s breath caught as he knelt to touch the grass, fingers sinking into the softness. “It’s… beautiful,” he murmured, eyes shining with awe.

Katsuki settled beside him, his tail curling around Izuku’s waist beneath the heavy coat. “This is my secret place,” he said quietly. “A little magic hidden where no one else can find it.”

Izuku leaned into him, his wings folding gently around them, the faint golden glow pulsing softly in the twilight.

Izuku slowly slipped out of Katsuki’s heavy coat, letting it fall silently to the soft grass below.

The cool air kissed his bare skin, causing a faint shiver to ripple through him—but there was something freeing about it too.

With deliberate grace, he lifted his arms, and his magnificent wings unfurled wide, stretching out in a breathtaking arc that caught the soft light.

The feathers shimmered softly, white tipped with gold, delicate yet powerful, casting a gentle glow over the clearing. Izuku’s flushed cheeks and the slight tremble in his curls only made the sight more ethereal, fragile beauty wrapped in otherworldly strength.

Katsuki sat frozen for a moment, eyes wide as he drank in the vision before him.

The way the wings seemed to embrace the whole glade, the quiet radiance that pulsed from Izuku’s pale skin, the soft catch of breath Katsuki couldn’t hold back.

Izuku’s eyes fluttered closed as Katsuki’s fingers brushed against his cheek, warmth blossoming beneath the touch.

Without hesitation, he leaned in, pressing his soft lips gently against Katsuki’s—an unspoken promise, a quiet thank you wrapped in the purity of that simple kiss.

Katsuki’s breath hitched, surprise melting into something tender and intense all at once.

He hesitated only for a heartbeat before closing the small distance between them, his own lips moving against Izuku’s with careful reverence, as if afraid to break the magic surrounding them.

The wings behind Izuku stirred softly, wrapping protectively around them both, the golden glow deepening as if the very air around them recognized the moment’s quiet grace.

Their lips slowly parted, breath mingling in the cool air, and without thinking, Izuku’s hands found Katsuki’s shoulders, gently pulling him closer.

Katsuki’s knees gave way beneath him, and together they tumbled backward into the thick, soft grass.

The blades bent and cushioned their fall, cool and whispering against their skin.

Izuku’s wings spread wide, cradling them both in a shimmering embrace as Katsuki’s arms wrapped securely around Izuku’s slender frame.

Their bodies pressed close, heartbeats syncing in the quiet warmth of the hidden glade.

Katsuki’s fingers traced gentle patterns along Izuku’s back, while Izuku rested his head against Katsuki’s chest, feeling the steady thrum beneath.

Time seemed to slow, the world narrowing to the softness beneath them, the flutter of wings above.

Katsuki’s hand slowly drifted down from Izuku’s back, fingers tracing delicate, feather-light paths over the smooth, soft flesh of his stomach.

Each gentle stroke sent a faint shiver through Izuku’s body, making his cheeks flush even prettier.

Izuku’s breath hitched as Katsuki’s touch lingered, warm and grounding against the coolness. His wings twitched softly, wrapping a little tighter around them both, as if shielding this quiet, tender moment from the world.

Katsuki’s gaze stayed locked on Izuku’s face—vulnerable and radiant—and a wide smile curved his lips.

The connection between them deepened in the silence, spoken through the gentle glide of fingertips and the steady pulse beneath.

Katsuki eased back until his shoulders rested against a soft, moss-covered log, the rough bark pressing gently against his skin. His breath hitched slightly, eyes flickering up to meet Izuku’s.

Slowly, Izuku shifted, sliding down so he straddled Katsuki’s lap. The warmth of their bodies pressed together felt both grounding and electric against the forest air.

Katsuki’s hands instinctively moved to rest on Izuku’s hips, steadying him, while Izuku’s wings fluttered softly behind them, casting a shimmering glow over the quiet clearing.

Izuku’s fingers tangled gently in Katsuki’s hair, tracing the soft curls with a fondness that made the wolfs breath hitch.

The warmth of Izuku’s touch spread through him, grounding yet thrilling in its quiet intimacy. Katsuki’s ears twitched, flicking forward as a low, contented rumble escaped him, a sound half-growl, half-laugh, before his hand slid up, resting just beneath Izuku’s nipples.

The sensation made Izuku’s breath catch, folds throbbing pooling slick between his thighs.

He leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to Katsuki’s, wings fluttering lightly, wrapping around them both like a shield. Katsuki’s tail twitched beneath them, brushing softly against Izuku’s side, adding to the delicate web of sensations.

“Angel,” Katsuki murmured. 

Izuku only smiled, eyes shining gold with quiet as he nuzzled against Katsuki, their connection deepening in the soft glow of the sunlit clearing.

Izuku’s fingers gripped Katsuki’s hair with a gentle urgency, pulling him closer until their breaths tangled and the warmth of their bodies pressed together.

Katsuki’s ears flattened back in a mix of surprise and want, his low growl rumbling deep in his throat, vibrating through Izuku’s ribs where his large hands now lingered, tracing bold, possessive lines along the fragile skin beneath the feathers.

Izuku gasped softly, the flush in his cheeks deepening to a burn as Katsuki’s tail wrapped tightly around his waist, tugging him closer still.

His wings fluttered wildly, feathers brushing against Katsuki’s skin like whispers of fire, protective yet yearning.

His lips crashed against Izuku’s with fierce desperation, swallowing every soft whimper and sigh, marking him silently as his own. 

Izuku melted into him, the fragile beauty of his form pressed against Katsuki’s rough strength, their hearts pounding in sync as the world outside disappeared entirely.

Katsuki’s tail slowly curled around Izuku’s waist, but then, almost instinctively, it drifted lower, brushing delicately against the sensitive wet skin between Izuku’s thighs.

The soft, warm fur sent an unexpected shiver racing through Izuku’s body, making his breath hitch and cunt drip even more.

Caught off guard by the intimate touch, Izuku’s wings fluttered nervously, but he didn’t pull away. Instead his fingers tightened slightly in Katsuki’s hair, silently urging him closer.

Katsuki’s gaze darkened with need and something more primal as he leaned in, lips barely brushing Izuku’s ear.

“You’re mine, angel,” he murmured, voice trembling, his tail still tracing teasing circles along that sensitive line.

Izuku’s pulse quickened, heart pounding loud in the quiet woods, as the delicate balance between vulnerability and desire wrapped around them like the softest, most dangerous kind of fire.

His tail pressed more firmly against Izuku’s throbbing pussy, sliding slowly, tangling with Izuku’s own hair, tracing a heated path that made the angel's breath catch in his throat.

The contrast of the rough, warm fur against his sensitive center sent a tremor through his body, igniting a deep, aching warmth that spread with every soft brush.

Izuku’s wings fluttered wildly, feathers ruffling as his hands gripped Katsuki’s shoulders, holding on tightly.

His flushed cheeks burned hotter, eyes half-lidded with a mix of surprise.

Katsuki’s eyes darkened, filled with fierce intent and a possessive hunger as his tail curled protectively but demanding, holding Izuku close in a way that was both perfect and utterly consuming. 

His tail coiled tighter around Izuku’s hips, the thick fur brushing insistently against his soaked cunt.

Izuku’s breath caught and his back arched, wings fluttering wildly as the heady rush of sensation blossomed through him.

His fingers gripped Katsuki’s shoulders, nails grazing the skin at the base of his neck, pulling him closer until every inch of them was flush together.

Katsuki leaned in, lips finding the hollow of Izuku’s throat, teeth grazing lightly before soothing the sting with his tongue. His tail pressed harder, dragging along the wet heat between Izuku’s thighs, each slow, filthy stroke drawing a soft moan from the angel’s lips.

The sound echoed through the glade, mingling with the hush of swaying grass and the gentle murmur of the stream.

Izuku’s wings trembled, unfurling just enough that their feathered edges brushed over Katsuki’s shoulders. His cheeks were stained with tears of pleasure, eyes fluttering closed as he gave himself over to the wolf’s tender marking.

Every touch, every growl-laced whisper against his ear, drove him higher, until Izuku’s soft cries rang out clear and pure in the moonlit clearing.

Katsuki’s rough hands gripped Izuku’s hips with heated urgency, tilting him upward until their bodies met in one searing line.

Izuku’s wings quivered behind him, feathers splaying wide as he braced against the sudden intensity.

Their eyes locked—golden irises aflame with need, red eyes shimmering with fierce protectiveness—and neither hesitated.

Katsuki’s mouth crashed down on Izuku’s, swallowing his cry in a storm of sharp teeth and sloppy kisses. Izuku’s fingers dug into the wolf’s fur, pulling him impossibly closer, breath and heat mixing in harsh gasps.

Katsuki’s sticky tail wove around Izuku’s trembling thighs, anchoring him as he drove forward, each thrust jagged and demanding.

Izuku’s wings beat wildly, brushing over Katsuki’s shoulders in frantic flutters that only fueled the wolf’s hunger.

“Hold me,” Izuku gasped, voice cracking on the word.

Katsuki answered with a low growl, one arm wrapping around Izuku’s back to pin him against the earth as he thrust harder.

Every thrust sent a flood of heat coursing through Izuku’s veins, his back arching in desperate response.

His moans broke free, sharp and urgent, echoing in the moonlit clearing. Katsuki’s free hand twisted into Izuku’s curls, tilting his head back to expose the fragile hollow of his throat.

He pressed a searing kiss there, teeth grazing the skin before soothing with a tongue that left Izuku gasping in raw, frantic delight.

With a guttural roar, Katsuki’s next thrust sent them both teetering on the edge.

Izuku’s body trembled, wings flaring wide as a final wave of pleasure crashed through him.

He cried out, voice breaking free in a shuddering release that shook them both. Katsuki followed, muscles tensing and tail lashing once across them as his own release ripped through him. He pounded into Izuku one last time, claiming him in a final surge of need.

They collapsed together, chests heaving, wings fluttering to enfold them in a quivering cocoon. Katsuki’s arms drew Izuku tight, his heartbeat thunderous against the angel’s ear.

“I’ve got you,” he rasped, voice thick with fervour.

Izuku clung to him, lips brushing a trembling kiss against Katsuki’s collarbone. “Always,” he whispered back, eyes shining with affection and shared exhilaration.

In the charged silence that followed, the hidden glade held their heat like a living thing, the memory of their fire echoing in every blade of grass and petal of glowing flower.

The world around them seemed to soften, the night folding gently over their tangled forms. Katsuki’s fingers traced slow, soothing patterns down Izuku’s back, every touch a quiet promise.

Izuku’s wings, still splayed wide, trembled with the aftershocks, the faint rustle of feathers the only sound aside from their steadying breaths.

He leaned into Katsuki’s touch, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed with lingering warmth. His curls tickled Katsuki’s skin as they fell over his fingers, damp and tangled from their shared intensity.

Katsuki pressed a tender kiss to Izuku’s temple, his wolf ears twitching in the night breeze.

Izuku smiled, fingers curling around Katsuki’s wrist, holding him close like an anchor. His semi-wet tail curled protectively around Izuku’s waist, a gentle weight grounding them both.

They stayed like that for a long while, wrapped in each other’s warmth beneath the endless stars, the forest around them alive with quiet magic.

Finally, Katsuki pulled back just enough to catch Izuku’s green eyes in his own. “Tomorrow,” he said softly, “I’ll help you find your way back to the sky. But tonight… just stay with me.”

Izuku nodded, a gentle glow blossoming in his chest, wings folding carefully around them like a shield. “I want to stay,” he said simply, voice so beautifully sure.

Katsuki’s breath hitched as he looked down at Izuku’s flushed face. For a moment, he felt like the wildest part of himself—the wolf, the heat, his raw instincts—were nothing compared to this perfect, glowing being beneath him.

His tail flicked nervously, brushing against Izuku’s waist, a gentle but possessive hold.

The rough pads of his hands trembled slightly as they slid from Izuku’s ribs to cradle his face, thumbs brushing over the pale, flushed skin.

“I—” Izuku started, voice thick with something new and unfamiliar. “I’m not good at this… stuff.” He swallowed hard, heart pounding in his chest like thunder. “But… I want to be. For you.”

Katsuki’s ears twitched, flicking toward Izuku’s curls as he leaned down. Izuku’s lips curved into a shy, mischievous smile as he felt Katsuki’s breath hitch beneath him.

Slowly, reverently, he traced his fingers along the muscles of Katsuki’s chest, feeling the warmth and steady thrum of his heartbeat under his touch.

The pads of Katsuki’s wolf-like hands trembled in his hair, tugging gently as if anchoring himself to the moment.

Izuku’s touch grew bolder, fingers trailing lower—across Katsuki’s ribs, over the sharp lines of his abdomen.

Each caress was featherlight, teasing, a dance of sensation that made Katsuki’s ears twitch and his tail flick anxiously.

Then, with a delicate confidence that surprised even himself, Izuku’s fingers found the sensitive spots along Katsuki’s sides and ribs, pressing softly, coaxing out low, breathy sounds that sent a flush rising to the angel’s pale cheeks.

Katsuki’s breath hitched again, tail curling tighter around Izuku’s waist like a protective coil.

Izuku looked up, eyes shimmering with a mixture of innocence and fierce desire. “I want to… Can I?” he whispered, voice trembling slightly but full of determination.

Katsuki nodded.

His hand moved with gentle precision, fingers dancing lightly over the places that made Katsuki shiver—warming, soothing, igniting a slow, spreading fire beneath his skin.

Katsuki’s lips parted, a low growl vibrating in his throat as Izuku’s touch deepened, the angel’s fingers moving with growing boldness, exploring with a softness that was both tender and thrilling.

Izuku’s lips trailed slowly down from Katsuki’s ribs, each kiss soft and deliberate.

His warm breath brushed over the skin just above Katsuki’s hipbone, making the wolf shiver slightly. Katsuki’s eyes fluttered closed for a brief second, caught off guard by how tender Izuku’s touch was.

With a shy glance upward, Izuku’s fingers gently slid lower, tracing along Katsuki’s side as his pink lips followed, pressing light, teasing kisses.

Katsuki’s breath hitched quietly, a mix of surprise and something softer blooming inside him.

Izuku’s voice was barely more than a whisper, “Is this still okay?”

Katsuki’s grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, warmth spreading through his chest. “Yeah,” he breathed out, voice low and steady. “Keep going.”

Izuku smiled softly, encouraged, and continued his slow descent.

His hands moved gently along Katsuki’s sides as his lips traced slow, feather-light kisses down to his hipbone. The softness of his touch made Katsuki’s breath hitch—part surprise, part something warm and unfamiliar blooming inside him.

Katsuki’s wolf ears twitched furiously, his tail flicking restlessly against Izuku’s side.

Izuku looked up with those perfect, pretty eyes again, wide and curious. “Still okay?” he whispered, hesitant, like he was learning the language of touch for the first time.

Katsuki’s grin softened into something more genuine as he nodded. “Mhm,” he said, voice quiet. “I’m okay. You don’t have to ask.”

With that, Izuku’s hands traced gentle patterns along Katsuki’s thighs, fingers brushing over the taut muscles beneath his skin.

His lips followed, pressing kisses that felt like whispered secrets against warm flesh. Katsuki’s tail flicked again, brushing lightly over Izuku’s bare stomach.

He caught his breath, eyes flickering open to meet Izuku’s gaze. “You’re something else,” he  whispered, his voice thick with admiration and something softer, more vulnerable.

Izuku’s cheeks flushed a pale rose as he leaned in, fingers tangling in Katsuki’s hair, pulling him closer.

Izuku’s eyes flickered down with a mix of curiosity and gentle boldness.

Slowly, he leaned closer, lips brushing tenderly against Katsuki’s skin, exploring the warmth beneath it.

Then, with sweet intent, Izuku parted his lips and softly sucked on the sensitive head of his cock.

The sensation was new. Soft, warm, and strangely electrifying. Katsuki’s breath caught, a quiet sound slipping from his lips as a faint flush bloomed across his cheeks.

His wolf ears twitched, tail flicking slightly, betraying the flutter of surprise and pleasure.

He let out a low, amused chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re kind of ridiculous,” he murmured.

Despite the teasing tone, there was a softness in his eyes as he leaned closer, welcoming Izuku’s careful touch.

Izuku pulled back just enough to meet Katsuki’s gaze, cheeks flushed with bashful warmth. “I want to… pleasure you,” he whispered, voice barely more than a breath.

Katsuki’s grin softened, the wildness in his eyes melting into something tender. “Then I’ll teach you, angel.”

Katsuki’s fingers gently cradled Izuku’s jaw, his touch firm and patient. “Slow down,” he murmured softly, voice low and steady.

“Here, like this.”

He guided Izuku’s lips with careful pressure, showing him how to move, how to listen to the smallest reactions.

Izuku blinked, absorbing every detail, his cheeks flushed but his eyes shining with determination.

At first, his movements were hesitant—timid and unsure—but Katsuki’s calm encouragement settled the fluttering nerves.

With every gentle motion, Izuku grew bolder, lips moving with more confidence, exploring and learning.

His delicate hands found balance against Katsuki’s sides, grounding himself as he tuned in to every subtle sigh and shiver.

Katsuki’s tail flicked in quiet approval, ears twitching as he watched the angel transform from unsure to assured. “That’s it, angel,” he whispered, voice thick with warmth. “You’re doing so good.”

Izuku smiled shyly, cheeks red and full, eyes sparkling with a new, fierce pride.

Katsuki’s breath hitched as Izuku’s growing conviction wrapped around him like a warm tide. Every careful movement, every shy exploration, pulled something raw and vicious from deep inside.

His hands tightened just slightly in Izuku’s hair, anchoring himself to the moment.

The wolf in him stirred, senses sharpening. The soft warmth of Izuku’s skin, the delicate flutter of his breath, the way those golden eyes looked up at him with trust and longing.

It was intoxicating.

Katsuki’s tail flicked faster, ears lowering just a bit as the tension coiled tighter inside.

He found himself leaning into the feeling, losing the usual rough edge, letting himself be vulnerable in a way only Izuku could coax out.

“F-Fuck,” Katsuki muttered under his breath, voice rough and low. “You’re driving me c-crazy,”

Izuku’s cheeks flushed deeper, but he held Katsuki’s gaze without fear, his hands clutching at Katsuki’s sides, urging him closer.

And Katsuki didn’t resist.

He sank fully into the moment, losing himself to the softness and fire Izuku offered, every touch, every gasp, every whispered sound pulling him further under.

Katsuki’s heart hammered in his chest as Izuku’s bold, confident ministrations pulled him deeper into that haze of sensation.

His tail thumped against the grass in rapid pulses, ruffling the blades beneath them. Every feather of Izuku’s wings trembled against his back now, the faint golden glow pulsing in time with their joined desire.

With a ragged groan, Katsuki rolled his hips.

Heat pooled low in his belly as he stared down at the angel’s flushed face—cheeks stained rose, lashes damp, lips parted around his cock flawlessly.

Izuku’s hands reached his base without hesitation, guiding the slick length of Katsuki’s arousal deeper into his waiting mouth.

Katsuki’s breath caught, hand curling possessively around Izuku’s throat as the angel’s lips closed deeper around him, tongue dancing lightly over his sensitive flesh.

A shudder tore through Katsuki, his hands tangling in Izuku’s curls as he lifted his hips in an instinctive thrust.

Izuku hummed around him, the sound muffled but clear in its pleasure, and he deepened the kiss against Katsuki’s base, muffling the wolf’s low growl.

The grass whispered beneath their weight as Katsuki rocked his hips, humping Izuku’s eager mouth with careful, trembling control.

His hands roamed over Izuku’s body—across his ribs, along the curve of his thighs—seeking every inch of warmth he could claim.

Each slick glide of Izuku’s lips sent sparks up Katsuki’s spine. When the angel’s teeth grazed the tip, he nearly lost it, head falling back in a guttural cry of need.

Izuku paused, concern flashing in his eyes, then leaned in and kissed the spot, soothing him with featherlight kisses before resuming.

Katsuki’s release built fast, the tension coiling tight until with a final, shuddering thrust, he spilled into Izuku’s mouth. The angel swallowed each pulse, blinking up through damp lashes as relief washed through both of them.

For a breathless moment, they stayed locked together—skin to skin, breath to breath—before Katsuki gently withdrew.

Izuku sat back on his heels, offering him a tender smile, licking his trembling lips.

Katsuki collapsed beside him, pulling Izuku into a soft, grateful hug. His voice was shaky with emotion. “...You’re incredible,”

Izuku grinned softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. Their foreheads pressed together as the hidden glade settled around them, the long grass swaying in the whispering breeze. 

Izuku’s wings spread wide beside them, catching the soft light that dappled through the canopy above. 

The long grass swayed gently around them, brushing against his pale legs, thick and soft like the clouds he longed for.

His flushed cheeks glowed with a quiet hope as he looked up at Katsuki, his eyes rimmed in gold shimmering in the fading light.

“Do you, maybe… Want to come with me? …To the sky?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, tender and hopeful, like a fragile breeze.

Katsuki’s wolf ears flicked, twitching with uncertainty, and his sharp eyes softened as he met Izuku’s gaze.

He shook his head slowly, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small, reluctant smile.

“We don’t belong in the same world,” the wolf said gently, his tail sweeping softly over the grass, brushing against Izuku’s bare stomach.

“You’re made for the sky, angel. Light and air. Me? I’m earthbound. A wolf. We don’t mix up there.”

Izuku’s lip quivered, and he leaned forward, letting one of his soft wings flutter to gently smack Katsuki’s shoulder.

“…Maybe not. But maybe some things are meant to meet somewhere in between.”

Katsuki chuckled, a low sound that rumbled through calm air, and his tail wrapped carefully around Izuku’s waist again, warmth and comfort in its embrace. The gentle tickle of fur against skin made Izuku’s heart flutter.

Katsuki’s hand rested on Izuku’s cheek softly, and he smiled.

“Then I’ll stay right here. With you. Where the earth holds us close, and the sky’s just a whisper above.”