The rustling of the surrounding leaves seemed to mock Izuku's agony in his final moments. As he opened his eyes, searing pain lanced through his abdomen, like shards of glass piercing his insides. Each shallow, shuddering breath felt like it was ripping him apart from within.

What his bleary eyes saw surprised him. Two glowing azure orbs gazed directly at him through the shadows.

"You look like you've had the crap kicked out of you, Izuku," Midnight's familiar voice cut through the haze of torment.

"...Nemuri?" he groaned, his voice a ragged whisper.

"Of course. Who else do you think The Voices would have dragged out here on a hunch," she said, surveying their sinister surroundings warily. "What the hell happened?"

"Eindridi. Thor...he broke my magic. I...it hurts. Like I'm being consumed by hellfire from the inside out." Izuku's body convulsed as another wave of crippling agony washed over him.

Midnight clicked her tongue in frustration. "Fuck. I knew I should have added orc piss to that asshole's drink. So your magic is eating you alive? Hang on..."

She rummaged through her pockets, finally pulling out an orb that Izuku vaguely recognized as similar to what Overhaul once had, but much larger. "Found it. Hold this," she instructed, pressing the cool sphere into his trembling hands.

Instantly, the searing torment receded, offering him a fleeting reprieve from the ravaging anguish. Midnight then methodically gathered his guts, strewn haphazardly across the area, and produced another object - a sun-bright gemstone. Holding it aloft over Izuku's torn abdomen, the wound knitted itself closed in an instant, though the gemstone's luster faded to a dull, lifeless grey. Despite the miraculous healing, Izuku could still feel his internal organs throbbing from grievous unseen injuries.

His gaze returned to the glowing orb cradled in his palms. "What is it? The pain...it's subsiding."

"It's a mana extraction gem. It stores magic, so I can use it when I need to. Useful for those of us without an innate Spark." Midnight explained, eyeing the sphere glowing intensely in Izuku's shaking hands, its azure light pulsing like a living heartbeat. "Though I've never seen one fill at such an alarming rate before."

"I take it will explode when it's full?" Izuku's words came out in a pained rasp, his throat feeling razored by the effort.

"When it's full, no. But if it overflows with too much magic, and it naturtally will. I'll have to take it away before you detonate like a mana bomb, incinerating us both and leaving a smoldering crater that will make the asteroid impact that killed the dinosaurs seem pathetic, in comparison." Her tone was clipped, pragmatic, masking her rising apprehension.

"How do we fix this?" Izuku gestured weakly toward his torso with the hand not cradling the humming gem, indicating his severed connection to magic that still left him flayed raw.

Midnight's expression clouded as she gnawed her lower lip in consternation. "I have no idea. I hate it when The Voices are this obscure. But I know where we have to go next." She scrutinized him carefully. "Can you walk?"

Izuku grimaced, feeling as though his insides had been scoured by white-hot chains. "I don't know. I think Eindridi shattered something vital. Apart from my staff. And I'm not healing properly."

"He didn't just break your magic, he severed your very link to it at the source, leaving you with a Spark burning your Soul from the inside out. Of course, your healing won't work." Her words were clinical, but inflected with unmistakable worry.

'That explains the pain, I suppose,' Izuku's mind supplied, his thoughts drifting as shock began to set in.

She then extended a slender arm, calloused fingers beckoning him urgently. "Come. We'll have to go. We're running out of time."

"I'll...try," Izuku gritted out, his voice a ragged whisper. He willed his leaden limbs to move, but his body staunchly refused to cooperate, every minuscule motion lancing fresh agony through his shattered form. Midnight could only sigh, plumes of vapor wreathing her face as she stooped to hook his quivering arm around her neck, hauling him upright with a grunt of effort. She cursed under her breath, lips twisting in a scowl of frustration. The Voices hadn't deigned to advise her to procure a wheelchair or something.

"Try...harder. We've got ways to go," she urged, taking halting steps forward into the unknown, Izuku's weight bearing down on her like an anchor.

"Did you know? About Eindridi?" The question tore from his bloodied lips in a pained rasp.

"That he was Thor? Of course I did. I've met the bastard before." Her tone was clipped, devoid of any surprise.

"Why...hnng...didn't you tell me?" Each word was a struggle against the blazing inferno searing his insides.

"Izuku, I have more secrets than you can possibly imagine. Part of being a Sorceress is keeping your mouth shut, or all kinds of trouble come visiting." Midnight's eyes flicked about their surroundings warily as they spoke.

"So your Voices didn't warn you?"

"You keep misunderstanding this. The Voices do their own thing for their own reasons."

"What do you mean?"

"They're like having a senile but well-meaning aunt living in your head, occasionally giving you treats or telling you secrets. You can never rely on them. But you can also never ignore them." As if to punctuate her words, a faint ethereal whisper seemed to drift across Izuku's consciousness before dissipating like a wisp of smoke.

"And about Eindridi?"

"If Thor wanted you to know who he was, he'd have told you. I'm certainly not going to go around blabbering the secrets of a god, otherwise I'm all too likely to be shut up permanently," she said, mouth set in a grim line.

"Wouldn't your Sorcery keep you safe?"

Midnight's azure eyes clouded with uncertainty. "Maybe? Or it might, until one time it doesn't. The day you trust absolutely in The Voices keeping you safe is the day you're likely to accidentally step in front of a bus," she said, her tone hardening with grim pragmatism.

"'Beware Sorcerers, their power is too fickle, and far too often their gifts come with sharp edges.' I remember Ochaco telling me that," Izuku rasped, each word feeling like shards of glass in his ravaged throat.

They had emerged from the sinister bowels of Elsewhere, the oppressive gloom gradually giving way to verdant greenery as they trudged onward, though Izuku hadn't the faintest idea of their destination. The fresh, earthy scents did little to soothe the searing anguish clawing at his core.

"Excellent advice. I wish I could follow it," Midnight murmured, her gaze falling upon the mana gem cradled in Izuku's shaking hands. Its pulsating azure radiance had intensified to an almost blinding degree, as if it could detonate at any moment. "Give me that gem before it blows. I've got another, but once that's gone, we're shit out of options." She pressed a fresh amber sphere into his palm, its surface marbling with cerulean tendrils as it absorbed the excess mana.

"Where are you taking me?" The question emerged as little more than a croak.

"To the Lake," Midnight answered simply, her lips pressed into a grim line.

"Nimue's not there," Izuku wheezed, feeling reality fraying at the edges.

"I know. But something is."

"What?"

"Absolutely no idea." She shrugged, Izuku's dead weight leaning heavily against her lithe frame as she bore him forward.

"That sucks."

"Tell me about it. How are you holding up?"

Izuku's eyes drifted to the gemstone, its lambent glow pulsing in time with the throbbing of his skull. "Your gem is holding back the Spark, for now," he rasped, "But my inside's still on fire from the hammer. I'm not healing."

Midnight's tone was clipped, broaching no argument. "One thing at a time. We need to fix your link to magic, or you're fucked in the short term anyway."

"How?" Even that single word felt like a monumental effort.

"No idea. As far as I know it's literally impossible. Your link is part of your own Soul."

"You're ever a source of cheer and encouragement," Izuku managed through gritted teeth, the words dripping with sardonic bite.

"The Voices seem to think there's a solution, otherwise I can't fathom why I'd be out here hauling your carcass to The Glade," Midnight said with a sardonic twist of her lips. "Though I wish they'd told me to bring a wheelbarrow. You're a heavy bastard."

As they approached the verdant expanse of the Glade, their boots crunched over the thick carpet of loam and fallen leaves, the heady aromas of damp earth and decaying vegetation thick in the air. Only a few steps separated them from the towering edifice of the Gate.

"Here we are. Let's hope the Gate still recognizes you."

"Open, Gate," Izuku croaked, every syllable a struggle against the searing agony gnawing at his core.

A resonant rumbling shook the very earth beneath their feet as the Gate's disembodied voice boomed across the area. "As you wish, O Promised One. But the sorceress shall not pass. What lies within is not for her eyes."

"Huh. It's never done that before," Izuku rasped, brow furrowing in alarm. "Open the damned door, I need her help."

"She shall not pass. I will not open while she is present," the Gate intoned with finality.

"What the hell?" Izuku spluttered, utterly flabbergasted by this unexpected development.

Midnight merely sighed, "Give it up, Izuku. It's a magical construct. You can't argue with it, and you're certainly not able to blow it up right now." Her gaze swept over his broken form.

"So what do we do?" The question was little more than a pained rasp torn from Izuku's ravaged throat.

"I go back to The Crowley. And you go find your destiny." She said as she pulled away from him.

"I...thank you, Nemuri. For everything. You didn't need to do this." Izuku managed a weak smile, flecks of blood staining his cracked lips.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I did," she replied with an inscrutable look. "Before I go, let's check and make sure you're not actually bleeding to death right now. Take off your shirt."

Groaning with the effort, Izuku peeled off the tattered, blood-soaked remnants of his once-crisp camouflage shirt, exposing the full extent of his grievous wounds. Shredded flesh and ruptured organs lay in stark contrast to his pallid torso.

Her azure gaze fell upon the mana gem cradled in Izuku's trembling hands, its pulsating radiance now rivaling the brilliance of the noonday sun. "Also, give me that gem. Right the fuck now," Midnight urged. "It's about to overload. I know it's going to hurt, but it beats the alternative."

The instant the incandescent sphere left his grasp, Izuku was assaulted by a fresh onslaught of devastating anguish, as if molten lead seared through his veins. "Fuck, that hurts," he groaned through gritted teeth, sweat beading his ashen brow as he fought the urge to scream bloody murder. "You don't have any more magical tricks?"

"No." Midnight's reply was curt, tinged with regret as she met his agonized gaze. "And you really should remember Ochaco's advice about Sorcery. The Voices do what they need to, not what you want them to, and rarely without exacting a price." She swept a critical eye over his battered form. "You're not leaking externally, at least. But I think most of your insides are still crushed and shattered. That's one hell of a punch."

"Yeah. It hit like The Hammer of God," Izuku rasped, attempting a pained chuckle that emerged as little more than a strangled wheeze.

"Very funny. I'm glad you can still crack a joke. Or at least try to. Even if it's a bad one," Midnight replied, her voice taking on a solemn timbre as she stared into the middle distance. "Goodbye, Izuku. And good luck."

"Goodbye, Nemuri." The words tasted of finality on his bloodied lips.

As she retreated into the verdant expanse, the Gate rumbled to life once more, its grinding drone resonating in Izuku's very bones as it swung open with ponderous inevitability. "The gate is opened, Chosen One. What you seek is by the lakeside."

"Let's hope it's what I need," Izuku murmured, steeling himself as he staggered through the gaping maw.

No sooner had he crossed the threshold than his pain returned a thousandfold, a white-hot inferno clawing at his soul as his unchecked Spark raged within. He knew his wounds would not soon heal, but he also knew he needed to endure this agony to survive and regain his decimated magic.

'Endure it. Until you've found your way back,' he repeated like a mantra, though the words did little to abate the searing torment. In the end, he found himself on his knees, heaving and retching up gouts of crimson life. "Fuck...this is not fun."

Pressing onward into the verdant heart of the Glade, Izuku noticed the an unfamiliar stone loomed ahead, as if a veil had been lifted to reveal its presence. "Wait...that rock wasn't there before," he rasped, his gaze falling upon the ornate sword impaling the weathered boulder. "And a sword is sticking out of it. Of course there's a sword in a stone here."

With halting steps, he approached the enigmatic blade and grasped its hilt with both hands. "I have no interest in being the king of England, but let's hope it can at least fix my magic link," he muttered, a dark thought flickering through his addled mind – 'Either that, or this is all just an elaborate joke at my expense.'

He tugged with every ounce of his waning strength, muscles straining and tendons creaking, but the blade refused to budge even a hairsbreadth. Gritting his teeth, he attempted to summon the full might of One For All, only to be met with fresh waves of blinding torment as his Spark flared in seeming rebuke.

Suddenly, a disembodied voice reverberated within the confines of his skull. "That's not going to work, Izuku. Only the rightful King or Queen of England can pull me from the stone."

"Well, there hasn't been one of those in a long time," Izuku panted, sweat streaming down his pallid features. "Maybe if there's time-travel magic?"

"You can stop pulling, I'm telling you it's not going to work," the sword answered with a sardonic lilt. "Also, I've seen six-year-old girls with stronger grip strength...are all Evokers that weak?"

"Only ones that just took a beatdown from a god," he rasped, grimacing as fresh lances of agony knifed through his ravaged form. "Shit. So you're the sword?"

"Excalibur, at your service!" it proclaimed with a melodious ring. "Though the only wielder I've ever had that insisted on using that name was Arthur. Humorless prick."

"How about I call you 'X'?" Izuku suggested as he sank to the loamy earth, leaning his back against the unyielding stone as if seeking its strength.

"'X' works," the blade replied with an almost perceptible shrug. "Though I was kinda hoping for something more along the lines of 'Oh magnificent One.'"

"Not happening," Izuku rasped with the barest hint of a wan smile. "But it's nice of you to keep me company here, at the end."

"So, you're dying?" The query held a strange, ethereal resonance that seemed to reverberate through Izuku's very bones.

"Pretty sure I am, yeah," he admitted with a weary nod. "Thor broke my staff, severed my link to magic, and left my magic eating my Soul alive."

The sword let out a rich chuckle that rang like a bell through the clearing. "Well, I guess the quality of a man is known by his enemies. If you are going to die, having a god of war come for you is a nice touch."

"I was kinda hoping not to die yet," Izuku groaned, his voice edged with bitter irony as fresh spasms of torment seized him. "Fuck! This hurts so much I'm starting to hallucinate."

"Oh, I assure you that I'm quite real," Excalibur replied with a hint of smugness.

"Not you, Sword. I thought I heard my girlfriend."

"That girl over there?" the blade asked, its ethereal tones now laced with incredulity. "Wearing some very well put together Schwartalf armor, actually." A pregnant pause, then – "Wait, ain't that Gwen's armor?!"

'Oh, right. Guinevere's...Wait!' The disjointed thought flickered through Izuku's addled mind as realization slowly dawned.

"Ochaco?" he called out in a tremulous rasp. "Ochaco's here? But...how?"

Sure enough, Ochaco came dashing toward him, resplendent in gleaming plate with sword drawn, only to skid to a halt at his side. "My Love? What happened? Mina found me, she was hysterical. Insisted I needed to come here, alone."

Emotions warred within Izuku's heart – elation, relief, disbelief – but he managed to force the words past his parched lips. "I love you, Ochaco. It's nice to see you, one last time."

Sinking to her knees beside him, Ochaco set her blade aside as worry creased her delicate features. "You are scaring me, My Heart. What is wrong with you? You are burning up, and I cannot sense your Spark at all."

"Eindridi betrayed me," Izuku confessed, the words like ashes on his tongue. "Broke my staff and severed my magic. I'm dying, Ochaco."

Her eyes widened in panic, glistening with unshed tears. "No, no! I will not let it happen. There must be something...anything we can do. How about Midnight-sensei?"

"She dragged me here, but the Gate won't let her in," he explained, nodding toward the stone with a pained grimace. "I think the sword behind me was supposed to be the solution." He attempted to gesture over his shoulder with his cheek, the only part of his body still capable of movement without fresh waves of torment washing over him. Ochaco's gaze followed the motion to settle upon the blade protruding from the stone.

"That sword, in the stone?" Ochaco's question emerged hushed, tinged with incredulity.

"Yupp. Say hello, X."

The blade's disembodied voice rang out with melodious clarity. "She can't hear me. The link is to you alone. Sadly, the bloodline is not. I guess once you die I'll be able to find a new wielder?"

"Thanks for nothing, sword," Izuku rasped, the words edged with sardonic bite.

"My Love? Who are you talking to?" Ochaco's delicate brow furrowed as she gazed at him, bewildered. "Are you saying the sword is Excalibur?"

Izuku managed a weary nod. "Yeah. It's talking to me, so I guess I'm its wielder for now." He grimaced as fresh lances of agony knifed through his ravaged form. "But it's also stuck fast in the stone, and I can't pull it out. Only the rightful King of England could do that."

"Get up, Izuku," Ochaco urged, her eyes shining with desperate determination. "We need to try something."

Every fiber of his being screamed in protest at the mere thought of moving. "I...I don't think I can, Ochaco. It hurts too much."

"You need to stand up, My Love. Please," she implored, hands fluttering over him as if afraid to make contact. "For me?"

Gritting his teeth, Izuku mustered his rapidly waning strength. "I'll try. No guarantees I'll remain standing." With a grunt of sheer force of will, he hauled himself upright, swaying perilously as the world tilted around him in a nauseating spiral.

"What do we do?" he panted, clinging to her steadying embrace.

"You can always lean on me, My Heart," Ochaco murmured, brushing her lips against his sweat-beaded brow. "Take the sword."

Izuku shook his head in weary resignation. "It won't budge. I tried this already."

"I know," she replied, meeting his gaze with eyes that burned with quiet conviction. "But I am the Heir to the Throne in Exile, and we never relinquished our claims. We are the rightful rulers of England. Let's do this, Izuku. Together."

With her slender hands guiding his calloused palms, they grasped the ancient blade in unison and pulled. To Izuku's shock, the sword slid smoothly free of its stony sheath with nary a whisper of resistance. It was lighter than air, humming with latent power as it sliced through the hushed stillness, and almost immediately, the searing torment ravaging his body dulled to a distant throb.

"Jeez! You weren't kidding about being a mess," the sword's lilting voice rang out with a hint of chastisement. "Most of it is fixable, though. The big one is your Magic."

"What happened?" Izuku rasped in wonder, flexing his fingers in a newfound absence of pain. "My pain...it disappeared."

"You're not patched up yet, if that's what you think. I'm just numbing your body and soul," the blade explained with an almost perceptible shrug. "Useful trick to have, when most of your wielders end up dying on the battlefield."

"So Arthur's not your only wielder?" Izuku asked the sword, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"I've been a Spatha and a Kopis, a Katana and a Khopesh, a Talwar and a Scimitar. Lots of different names too. Masamune. Dáinsleif. Durandal. Amongst others, but I am always Excalibur, The Sword of Mankind," the blade hummed, its metallic voice resonating with pride.

Ignoring the sword's bragging, Izuku's brow furrowed, "Not that I'm not happy the pain's gone away, but I'm still dying, right?"

"Yeah. I've never tried this before. First time my wielder's an Evoker, actually. You guys usually don't need a divine crutch," the sword replied, its tone almost apologetic.

"I'm sorry you're stuck with the runt of the litter, then. But as much as I enjoy chatting with you, I'd much rather spend my final moments with Ochaco," Izuku said, his gaze drifting towards the armored woman.

"No time is passing. Not in a meaningful sense, at least. I once had a philosophical discussion with Rao that took place between an arrow launching from his bow and the moment it impacted the eye of an enemy. Time is not our problem. Your Spark is."

"Yeah, I know. I can't channel anything, and the magic is just kinda leaking into my body, burning it," Izuku grimaced, the memory of the searing pain still fresh.

"So what you need is a Focus, right? The link that connects your magic to your will."

"I think so. The staff was what I attached the gems to within the Spark, I think."

"Let's see if I can link to it," the sword said. Then suddenly, it glowed with a blinding light, piercing the heavens. The humming in the air sang with joy, and Izuku felt as if the entire Glade sighed in relief and reverence as he holds the sword.

"Bloody hell, boss. This is a lot of raw power. I've seen gods with less brute strength. Hell, I've killed gods with less strength, now that I think about it. It's like holding back a tsunami with a matchstick," the sword's voice trembled with awe.

"Can you use it?"

"Hmmm? Oh. Yeah, totally. I've drawn magic from a wielder before. It's just a difference between a candle and a star."

"It feels different, somehow."

"Because you're no longer dying? Some people have said that makes them feel different," the sword joked, its tone lighthearted.

"No. I mean my connection to the magic. Like it's more alive now."

"It's like the difference between a Divine Blade and a stick of wood."

"No need to get pissy about it. Can we do anything new?"

"I've got some regeneration for you. In addition to pain blocking. And I slice through pretty much anything, which can be useful for people that don't throw fireballs that can boil a city."

"Sounds good. How're my injuries? It's a little weird to know my body's a broken mess, and not feel anything. Though I guess it beats the alternative."

"I patched up the broken bones and internal organs that blew up. There was some more internal bruising, but that was easy to deal with. Don't worry if you piss blood tomorrow, let's just say your kidney was a mess. You'll also be weak as a kitten as I'm using up your energy to do this. You might want to stay here until you recover. Doctor's orders," the sword explained, its tone almost clinical.

"Anything else critical?"

"Nothing that won't keep. Go sort out your lady friend with the fancy armor."

"Indeed."

Izuku then turned to Ochaco, looking at her as if she were the most beautiful person in the world. Well, to Izuku, she definitely is. "Izuku? Can you hear me?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

"I'm here, My Love. Relax, everything is going to be fine," he reassured her, though it was also to reassure himself. He had thought he'd never see her again.

She looked at him, her eyes searching, before saying, "Your Spark. It is back. But it feels different. It glows with a golden light. I have never seen anything like it before."

"It's Excalibur. He's become my new link to magic."

"Where is it?" she asked, her gaze scanning the area.

"Same place I stored my staff, I imagine. Though I guess it now doubles as an actual sword."

Worry etched her features as if she feared touching him would make him crumble to dust, "So...you're okay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes. See, even my ribs are healed," he said, poking at his torso. "If anything, I'm better than new."

She couldn't hold back anymore; tears flowed from her eyes, the first time she had cried in ten years. She then went catapulting towards Izuku, her hardened steel plate smashing against his naked torso as she enveloped him in a fierce hug. "You...bastard! I was certain you were going to die. That you were going to go away, leaving me to face each day alone. To know that I will never see your face again. Feel your lips on mine. Hear your voice saying my name. Ever again." She wrapped her arms around him as if afraid he would disappear if she let go, her tears soaking into his skin.

"I'm glad you are safe, My Heart. I could not bear to live without you...I became complacent, certain that each morning would give us another day together. Even though I know how Evokers live," she said with a determined face. "Never again. Sit down."

Izuku sat to the ground, laying beside the stone. "What are you doing, Ochaco?"

LEMON START

"What I should have done a long time ago. Live my life with you to the fullest. Share everything with you. Starting now," she said with a determined look as she took off her armor, exposing her naked skin. She is not wearing anything under them, including her bra and panties.

"Are you certain, Ochaco? What about the Court, or your father?"

"My Father can go to hell, and take the nobles with him for all I care. Nothing else matters. Only us,"

"I..I love you, Ochaco."

"I bet you say that to all the pretty girls planning to have sex with you," she said.

"No. Only you."

"Let us get rid of those constricting pants," she said as she unzips Izuku's pants, pulling his boxers down at the same time. "There. That's better. We wouldn't want you getting chafed before we can play," she said as she passed her hands around Izuku's fully erect and throbbing manhood.

He then said the words he never imagined he would his entire life, "I'm weak as a kitten, Ochaco. Healing up took all of my strength."

"Then it is a good thing I am an excellent rider, is it not? And your thing seems to have enough energy to stand up," she said as she stroke Izuku's cock up and down.

"Well, I said I was weak, not de..." catching himself, Izuku instead said, "asleep."

With a chuckle, she said, "You had better not be. If you fall asleep the first time we have sex, I shall be most cross with you."

Izuku let out a smirk and said, "Trust me, Ochaco, there is no danger of that happening."

"That's what I like to hear," she said as she gave him a small peck on his cheek, before she positioned herself above his throbbing manhood. She pressed his cock on her vulva before slowly grinding it, eliciting a small moan from her and a grunt from him. Her pace is slow and steady, as if she's testing the waters before diving into the ocean.

"If you're not ready, My Love..." Izuku started but was interrupted as Ochaco grabbed his head and pushed their lips together as she drove herself on his shaft with a grunt of effort. Blood started trickling from her opening. Though Izuku can clearly see she doesn't care about the blood and that her vulva is only trying to accommodate his girth and length.

"Oh, gods. You're tight."

"As long as it is with you, My Heart, I am always ready."

"Does it hurt?" he asks her.

"Just a little," she replied as she stopped when she reached the base of his shaft. "Though I thought it would hurt more, somehow. Or feel more final."

"We have only begun."

"I know. But there is something irrevocable about our actions here. For some reason I had expected the physical act to mirror that significance. But it was no more painful than a sharp whack with a training blade."

For an endless breath, the couple remained in that position, their lips pressed together. Izuku can feel the mix of blood and juices trickling down his thigh and every shifting motion stimulating his cock. Finally, Ochaco pulled back an inch and spoke into his open mouth, "Perhaps I should move?"

He nods as they look at each other's eyes in ecstasy as she began to raise herself off his rod before slamming it back in with a wet thwack.

"Uuuggh," Ochaco moaned as the pain subsided bit by bit with each thrust. "It seems like my body was made to hold you inside me."

"Yeah," he replied as he placed his hands on her hips before helping her moving up and down his shaft. "That feels amazing, Ochaco."

"I want...to remember this moment forever. To feel you inside of me, your skin against mine. Nothing will take this from me," she declared.

"I love you, Ochaco."

"I love you too, My Heart. Just rest, and let me do this for you," she said as she rides Izuku's cock up and down, bringing him closer to the edge with each motion despite the gentle pace. Then she slows down, kissing him.

"Mina did say that the trick was to this was to set the pace myself. That a man, much like a thoroughbred horse, can get the excitement get ahead of him," she said.

"Are you comparing me to a horse, now?" He asked.

"A wild stallion. Proud and strong. Responding only to a maiden's sweet touch and gentle words," she said as she thoroughly enjoys his lips on her own. They finally break the kiss and she speeds up again, allowing herself to get lost in the sensation of being filled so completely by his warm flesh, until it is almost a struggle to stop. Then she slows down and kisses him.

"I always considered myself hung like a horse."

This made Ochaco let out a chuckle. "Thankfully not, or there is no way you would fit inside. You are already almost too big."

"The horse is ready, lazy rider."

"Poor neglected horse. Then I shall ride you hard, and you get a chance to burn off that excitement."

She increased the speed and pressure slightly once more, reveling in the exquisite stretching sensations of his cock plunging deep inside of her, and the sense of him sliding over her sensitive clit as they rocked together. Then she slowed down again before picking the pace back up.

Izuku looked up at her perfect body, her large breasts swaying back and forth above him with each movement, nipples rock-hard and jutting out from the pale skin of her chest.

"It's alright," she whispered after breaking their kiss, her soft lips inches from his mouth, "Just rest, and let me do this for you."

She changed her angle so that his cock would slide over her sensitive clit with each stroke, moaning as she enjoyed the wonderful stimulation of his hot, hard shaft rubbing against that nerve-rich bundle of flesh.

"Are you close?" she asked as she picked up the pace again, their bodies slamming together with audible smacks as they moved faster and harder than ever before.

"Oh fuck!" he groaned, and she realized that he was on the verge of orgasm.

"I love you, Izuku. Cum inside me. I want to feel you deep inside me," she said as she quickens her pace once more. The motions more desperate, until with a final moan she collapses on Izuku's chest, her orgasm sent Izuku over the edge as well and resulted in him emptying inside of her. She lay there on top of him for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of his cock throbbing and twitching inside of her as the last spurts of his cum splashed against her cervix.

LEMON END

"Wow," she finally managed to say, her voice filled with awe. "That was amazing."

"Would you say it was sinful, though not very terrible?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Not very terrible at all," she replied, showering him with kisses, her lips trailing fire across his skin. "I can't wait to try that again."

"One quick fuck, and you're already a nympho," he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Hardly. You have already corrupted me. This was merely the next step on the journey. But it was an amazing step," she breathed, her body still humming with pleasure.

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Suddenly, the world around him spun as he lost all strength in his body, his muscles going limp.

With a worried look, Ochaco gazed at him, "What is it, My Heart?"

"Just...a little woozy," he mumbled, his eyelids heavy.

Suddenly, X's voice echoed in his head, the metallic tone familiar, "Yeah, I did tell you to take it easy. I drained your body more or less to the dregs to heal you."

"So you...saw all that?" Izuku asked, a tinge of embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

With a chuckle, X replied, "Nah, I'm pretty good at not noticing. You're hardly the first wielder with a taste for sex. Alexander, for example, would fuck anything on two legs, and quite a few things on four. In this case, I was busy chatting with your girlfriend's armor. Not the brightest bulb in the box, but she looks smoking."

"So you're saying that the armor's sentient? Like you?"

"Ain't nothing like me, boss. But yeah, she's got some rudimentary brains, and a whole lot of beauty. The Schwartalf do good work. Now stop screwing around and get some sleep."

"Sounds like a plan," Izuku agreed, his eyelids growing heavier by the second.

"Izuku? Are you okay?" Ochaco asked, her voice laced with concern as she continued to pepper him with gentle kisses.

"Just...tired. I'm healed up, but it took a lot. And then you took the rest," he said, the last part meant as a joke to lighten the mood, though Ochaco didn't take it that way.

"I am sorry, My Love. I was being selfish, thinking only of my own need," she said, her eyes downcast with guilt.

"Hey, I'm not complaining. It was amazing," he reassured her, reaching out to stroke her cheek.

She then helped Izuku lay down on the soft grass, joining him. "Just lay down, My Love. I'll keep watch over you."

"...guard my back with naked steel," Izuku muttered, remembering Mina's, or The Voice's, words, his voice heavy with fatigue.

"Always. Sleep, My Heart. Tomorrow, we will face the world. Together," she whispered, her fingers combing through his hair.

"Together. Always," he agreed, the world fading away as sleep finally claimed him, her soothing touch lulling him into peaceful oblivion.

Thanks for reading!

We finally got to meet X, Izuku's Divine Weapon. And with it, the first big jump in his power level. Like Izuku said, the connection to magic is totally different this time.

Also, Mina's the MVP for the save here. Without her barging at Ochaco's meeting with Backdraft the way she did, Izuku's dead.

I've started working through some of the chapters to convert to Third person, which I started with the Intermission I along with fixing their dialog. I'll go through each one of them at a steady pace.

Next up: The Look of a King