Work Text:
Katsuki was becoming truthfully concerned that if he rolled his eyes another time in this session, they’d get stuck that way. If there was one thing Izuku did that grinded his gears like nothing else, it was denial. Denial of what was plain, obvious, and known to damn near anybody who knew him.
“You think I have a sex addiction?” Utterly incredulous, Izuku interrogated their therapist, now having asked the question four different times, with the inflection and emphasis landing in various places each time he processed the notion. “Me?”
He pushed his glasses up and shifted in his seat at Izuku’s change in volume. “Well, considering the story of the weeks past you just shared with me–”
Katsuki’s fiancé laughed indignantly. “I just wanted intimacy! Intimacy is important.”
“Can’t you just fuckin’ tell him he’s just as degenerate as me already, doc?” Exasperated and slumping backwards in his chair, Katsuki threw his hands up in playful irritation.
Shakily, their therapist tried (just once!) to stop them from stoking that signature Wonder Duo flame, despite being thoroughly outclassed by the clash of the two strong personalities in the room. “As you both know, I object to the use of the word degen–”
“I am not a degenerate, Katsuki! I still remember when you needed to jack off between patrols so you didn’t lose focus on the job. I absolutely do not compare to–”
“Deku, you groped my dick in a family-friendly establishment!” Katsuki couldn't help the baffled way he chuckled through saying it, turning his gaze to their counselor and gesturing at Izuku with can-you-believe-this-fucking-dork charm. After the amorous end to their dry spell, he was much less subdued than the last time they saw him.
“Hardly!” Insulted at the notion, Izuku softly hit his palm on the armrest and sucked in a sharp breath, whipping his head to stare the opposite way, lip jutting out petulantly.
“Both of you,” their therapist finally properly interrupted. “Izuku, if you really think you and Katsuki aren't… afflicted, we’ll call it, in the same way as each other-”
Katsuki could practically read Izuku’s mind. The ‘nervous’ laugh that was actually condescending as shit. I wouldn't say it's an ‘affliction' to be attracted to each other!, he’d insist. But Izuku bit his tongue, choosing something safer to do than continuing to beg the question.
“Then you should similarly pull back from sex the way Katsuki has been practicing. That should be easy for you, if you mean what you say.”
Woah. Katsuki raised a hand in disagreement (he was still a man with some needs, at the end of the day). Hold on. “What’s the point of that shit?” He asked.
“I’m not saying it to challenge either of you! I’m just offering a solution to encourage you, Katsuki, and prove useful to you, Izuku. You both might be using sex as…” the rest of his explanation fell on deaf ears.
Did he know who the hell he was talking to? Giving the Katsuki and Izuku even the mere implication of competition was like letting drug dogs loose in a coca flower field. Their session ended, and nothing of significance was proven or solved. Instead, Katsuki had the fire of what could be a solid, undeniable victory lit under his ass.
As soon as he buckled his seatbelt, Izuku waved Katsuki off, anticipating the start of a conversation. “Don’t try to tell me off, Kacchan.”
Katsuki smirked like a prick, one hand on the steering wheel to present a relaxed posture, rolling his neck without a care. “I was just going to say good luck.” I can't remember a day you haven’t soaked your underwear since we started dating, a thought he smartly kept to himself.
“Good luck?” He spat like the phrase was poison.
“Hell yeah. You’ll fuckin’ need it this week, Deku. Believe me,” A little payback was beyond due.
“I don’t need luck, Kacchan. I don’t prefer sex to water and air,” he huffed, crossing his arms and blowing air out of the side of his mouth. “You damn pervert,” he muttered.
“What was that?” Katsuki leaned to the side as he turned the steering wheel. “Speak up, ‘Zuku!”
“Grr— augh! Kacchan, don’t be a child!”
Katsuki’s timeline was greatly exaggerated in comparison to Izuku’s, which was, of course, his modus operandi. Maybe you could call him overconfident, but Izuku’s willpower was sorely lacking, and he knew that Izuku knew he knew. He’d be begging to be bent over until he was out of breath, like he’d loved to for years. Like he was fuckin’ born to do, for his Kacchan. That being said, he gave Izuku a day of reprieve the following day. No tricks, no tests, just a standard and sacred post-therapy Sunday. He made breakfast, gave him a little shoulder massage and forehead kiss, did a bit of the chores they’d been neglecting while Izuku caught up on grading, had a conversation about wedding planning to make sure they stayed on schedule for the date they set, then ended the day snuggling up for a show they’d gotten into over the last few months. By the time Izuku drifted off, Katsuki was certain he wasn't half as engendered to prove himself right as Katsuki was to prove Izuku plenty wrong.
Monday morning, bright and early, Katsuki began to lay his trap. He opened his computer, his separate computer, on the nightstand, and picked something Izuku would prefer. Rougher sex. Slapping, degradation, BDSM, clear dom/sub dynamics, toys, everything under that umbrella that pushed the envelope for some, but intrigued Izuku endlessly. Barely thirty seconds into the video, he was half-chub, seeing one of the actors drop to his knees, dick bobbing in front of his face as his pretty cheeks grew redder, making Katsuki think of all the times he forced Izuku to the floor and slapped his mouth with his cock until his fiancé opened wide to take him as deep as he could. He teased himself, just for a moment, cupping his crotch and palming his growing erection, rocking his hand in a smooth, ovular motion, occasionally bucking his hips up to grind against the contact. But once he glanced back at Izuku’s sleeping form, all falsely innocent and lightly snoring, that got him to full mast. He pushed down his pajama pants and his cock popped out accordingly, twitching as soon as he raised his own hand. Katsuki was more eager about his own evil plan than touching himself could ever make him. Quietly, he fumbled through the top drawer for lube, wanting to make sure Izuku woke up to something extra wet.
Y’know, in case he fell to his basest instincts and climbed on top. Katsuki knew those instincts like they were his own, and he might’ve put money on it that they would win out when Izuku laid eyes on this scene he set beside him.
He uncapped the lube and poured it over the palm of his right hand, warming it up before he began long strokes to coat his dick, wrist turned the opposite direction as he pulled the skin up to his head and let out a light groan. For Katsuki, porn was only an auxiliary enhancement to his imagination — not exactly background noise, but not the main attraction either. The bottom in the video moaned loud and long, all squeaky and breathless in a way that reminded Katsuki of how Izuku looked whenever they were rushing to fuck. He recalled a time where they — both a little drunk — had snuck behind a bar on a night out with their friends, and after they tugged at each other’s clothes and fumbled to grind against each other, Izuku came just from Katsuki choking him to keep him quiet, the other hand smushing his face to the brick while he arched deep to take all of his partner, cumming on Katsuki’s cock when he squeezed his neck a bit harder than anticipated. The threat of Katsuki swiping his hand wrong or accidentally sparking Izuku’s throat in their drunken flight of fancy was enough to make him circle his hips, enough to make his eyes roll back, enough to make him bite down on his lip and let out a strangled scream of ecstasy.
Katsuki’s dick throbbed wildly against his palm. There was something devilishly delightful about indulging these memories that would usually leave him hard and leaking at the worst of times, all for the benefit of Izuku’s brief torment.
The men in the video switched positions. Izuku turned on his back, showing telltale signs he was starting to wake up. Katsuki groaned outright, breathing heavy, low and slow, as he focused his attention on his tip, only occasionally pulling down and letting out grunts, splicing in a wayward Deku here and there as if he were taunting the other man to wake up.
Katsuki’s wish was his incidental command.
“Kacchan?” He stretched a bit, starting to sit up just enough to rub his eyes. “What time is it? What’s with all the noi–”
Met with a teasing smirk as sweat dripped down from Katsuki’s forehead, Izuku’s mouth fell agape, mind demonstrably swirling with rapidfire assessments.
“I…” Now fully awake, he swallowed (pretending he wasn't fuckin’ drooling, the slut), breath hitched, taking it in as his eyes darted between Katsuki’s precumming cock, his fiancé’s pistoning fist, the loud, sloppy porn, and finally, the master bathroom door. “I’m gonna shower, Kacchan. Okay? Okay.”
That was all the acknowledgement he got before Izuku practically leapt up and skittered off like a scared deer, slamming the door behind him.
Katsuki weighed whether or not he’d make himself cum, or save it for Izuku’s wanting, empty pussy, when he finally cracked from the lack of sexual satisfaction. As steam began to leak out from under the door, a vivid vision of Izuku, naked, slipping a hand between trembling thighs and sinking a trepid finger into his cunt, fucking himself with shower water as lube, leaning shoulder-first against the tile for support and gasping Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan under his breath, eyes rolling back, clasping a hand over his mouth as he came on the digits to stay sane; all the while praying the shower drowned it all out, or that his fiancé was too caught up bucking into his own fist to notice he was mutually masturbating just a doorframe away.
That almost tipped Katsuki over the edge. Almost. Curse his active —and very literal— imagination. Saving his cum it was. He’d give Izuku everything he had, whether a terrifying reward or gratifying punishment.
After that embarrassing rejection, Katsuki acted like it was a fluke for the rest of the day into the next, counting on Izuku’s irritatingly forgiving nature to trust Katsuki was just particularly horny that morning and lower his guard. By start-of-day Wednesday, Katsuki was pent up enough to have an all new plan, and a picturesque opportunity fell right in his lap. A manager let him know upon his arrival to their agency that he and Izuku had an interview with representatives of a few newspapers for comment on a recent situation between multiple hero agencies (that Katsuki had barely paid attention to in the midst of he and Izuku’s feud). First, they’d have a short, early evening patrol to give the appearance of the harding working Wonder Duo (Katsuki rolled his eyes, they did work hard, unbelievably so, and everybody knew it — but whatever the brand asked for). They’d have guaranteed alone time, because Katsuki kept their press hero suits in his office, and they always changed in there together.
Patrol went without incident, and Katsuki privately schemed his way through plenty of possibilities for when they were alone, anything short of bending Izuku over his desk. The perfect idea dawned on him, though, as he watched Izuku slip out of his suit to change, revealing his tense freckled shoulders and back little by little. Katsuki’s eyes traced the length of Izuku’s spine as it appeared, then moved to his side of the office to change as well, idea now fully formed.
With Izuku’s guard down once again (when would the nerd learn?), Katsuki acted it perfectly, staring and looking Izuku up and down, feigning concern.
“Hey, baby? Come here,” He spoke softly as he pulled on his gloves. “You’ve got something on your suit.”
Eyes adorably wide and trusting, Izuku obediently moved in front of his lover, only to be met with him running his hands from his midsection to his chest. He gripped the space under his arms and pushed him swiftly back against the far wall, thumbs resting squarely on Izuku’s nipples, hands beginning to grope his sensitive chest. The press junket could wait for-fucking-ever. As far as Katsuki was concerned, the whole world had had enough of the Hero Deku until he was back to plugging his loads and pretending his ass and pussy weren't painted white while he signed autographs. He tried not to let the possessiveness speak too much, because Izuku needed to give in. Not him.
The other hero gasped out in surprise, a broken, keening sound slipping from his lips before he caught himself and scolded his partner.
“Katsuki– what are you do–ing?! We have to go!” he whispered, or whined. It was a sound in between that made Katsuki grin.
“Gettin’ the stain out,” He murmured, tilting his head and breathing onto Izuku’s neck.
The lightly ribbed texture on the underside of Katsuki’s gloves was working Izuku up in all the right places, even with the thin, sleek material of the suit still covering most of his chest. In fact, that might’ve been adding to it. Without thinking, Izuku arched his chest forward towards the touch. He was always fairly tender, but he was reacting to even the lightest swipe of Katsuki’s fingers, and that only egged him on. Izuku had yet to fully zip up his suit, so, naturally, Katsuki tore the spandex back apart with a solid yank, getting a little yelp in response. Nimbly, Katsuki pressed his palms over Izuku’s chest and cupped either side, groping him with a self-satisfied look on his face, all before squaring in on his brown, hard, and newly defenseless nipples.
“Kaah– Kacchan– please, you have to stop, o-okay? You have to stop and just– haah– and just let me have this one!” Izuku’s eyes squeezed closed and he covered his mouth with the back of his hand as Katsuki circled his nipples faster, applying pressure or tugging intermittently now that he’d unzipped his hero suit.
“Have what?” He asked condescendingly, leaning back down to kiss, lick, and suck at the crook of Izuku’s neck, where it met his upper trap.
Biting his lip to muffle anything else, Izuku squirmed like his life depended on it, like he was a small, weak thing caught in a trap, only to worsen his own predicament by moving against Katsuki's assault instead of away from it.
“Have what, Izuku?” Katsuki lowered himself to be level with his left pec, wrapping his lips around the nub, alternating between tonguing underneath and suckling.
“Ple– pleah– jus’ let go!” He moaned with a light pah as he unfurled his bottom lip, reeling at the height of his pleasure, the absolute worst time for Katsuki to actually obey his request.
Teasingly, he sucked a kiss into Izuku's chest, tongue flitting over his nipple when he moved, and he left a deep hickey just above his areola before pulling off entirely. “You’re right, baby,” Katsuki agreed, as if the encounter —barely a second old— had never happened. “Let’s get going. Here, I’ll zip you up.”
At first, the other’s man’s face was stuck in a confused, worked-over little scowl, but as it softened, realizing Katsuki truly was pulling away, Katsuki recognized Izuku was hazy and undoubtedly needing —the most important effect of them all—, and Katsuki’s cock ego swelled with pride. He was squirming throughout the interview, fidgeting with his hands behind his back as if he was holding things together with a taut thread that was rapidly fraying and unravelling.
Izuku hurried out of the house the next day, leaving Katsuki with nothing but a kiss on the temple and a rushed Haveaniceday! as he grabbed his briefcase and ran out. Katsuki was on call out-of-office for the day, leaving him with hours between when Izuku left for work and his lunch break, so he made a trip to the grocery store. Once he returned, hauling hefty bags from his wrists to the crook of his elbow on both arms, Katsuki laid out everything he’d be making lunch with in the kitchen. Pork belly, firm tofu, eggs, rice, various filling toppings like kelp seaweed, fishcake, green onions, etc, then tomatoes, mirin, soy sauce, and other odds and ends from out of the pantry and fridge.
Usually, when Katsuki cooked, he was a well-oiled machine with a one track mind, even as everything else around him spun out into disaster after disaster. But now, in his sexual excitement, there was relative peace in letting his mind wander.
He began to prep the meal, starting by tying twine tight around the rolled cut of pork belly, leaving it to simmer in aromatics as he started on the dashi stock, expertly and efficiently muddling and combining kombu and katsuobushi into the bubbling water.
It was on this very counter Katsuki had fingerfucked Izuku into a blabbering mess a few weeks ago. He’d never admit it to Izuku, but having restrained himself for a month, he nearly came just from putting it in. Really, they often stumbled into trysts in the kitchen all together, if not because Katsuki couldn't stop himself and get further in the house, then because Izuku had easy access to Katsuki in his favorite part of the house. He remembered the greedy handjob he got a few months ago during a late night working on agency paperwork, Izuku working both his hands double time to stroke Katsuki’s shaft and grope his balls, edging him over and over until Katsuki lost focus and jaggedly fucked his hand.
He eyeballed the soy sauce and mirin in each pot before he began finely dicing the green onions, slicing the pickled onions and seaweed, scoring the tomatoes before boiling them as soon as the stock was resting. Katsuki washed the rice by hand through a fine-mesh sieve, with a sprinkle of baking powder and a dash of vinegar before rinsing and cutting on the rice cooker.
Katsuki rolled his shoulders back, recalling a time he was cutting veggies with Izuku underneath the counter, deepthroating his cock with a vice grip on his thighs after chewing pens all day at work. Fuck, he should’ve brought that up in therapy. Izuku’s fucking oral fixation could be unbelievably insatiable. He had swirled his tongue again and again over Katsuki’s cockhead, parting his lips slightly to suckle before gaping his mouth to suck, take Katsuki all the way to the back of his throat, barely gagging now —by the time they got engaged, he was a seasoned pro. That was one of the only times Katsuki could remember cooking without a steady hand, and he felt his dick harden against his thigh.
Now working with the quickest parts of the meal, he beat the eggs and poured, rolling the thin layers on high heat, multitasking to make sure the peppery tomato sauce was coming along. The remainder of eggs, onions, fishcake, and the diced chashu went in the pan with the rice to stir fry.
He plated the bentos, chahan garnished with pickled onions, poured the tofu and seaweed dashi soup in one compartment and laid the rolled eggs with tomato sauce in the other. As a little bonus, he packed each of them a bag of shrimp chips, knowing how much both of them could eat (even if he didn’t want them to do much eating). By the time he finished and strapped on two disposable pairs of chopsticks, Katsuki was hot, bothered, and right on schedule. When he reached UA, he sent a quick text to Izuku, who was wrapping up class none the wiser.
“look down, out of your classroom window before one of your brats does”
As he waited, Katsuki held his hand over his eyes like a visor to block out the sun’s glare, holding up a bento pouch for his fiancé to see when his familiar green hair peeked out from the window frame, getting an excited wave in response.
“I didn’t know you were making lunch, Kacchan!” Izuku greeted Katsuki at the door of his classroom, a hand resting on his bicep as Katsuki used his foot to close the sliding door. He pecked a kiss on his cheek and took the bag to his desk.
Katsuki shrugged and pulled a chair up opposite Izuku. “I didn’t feel like just laying around all day.”
Izuku oohed and aahed over the food once he sat down, hands clasped together in thanks before he started eating.
“What’s that grin for, huh?” Katsuki asked, raising his chopsticks to his mouth.
Izuku hummed, smile up in his eyes. “Nothing! I’m just so happy. It’s been a while since we had lunch together here. I miss it.”
“Yeah? Well, your students don’t, that’s for sure. Got some side eyes from the little shits when I showed up.”
Izuku giggled brightly in reply. “No way, they love you! At least they do now, since you nixed the whole crashing-in-the-middle-of-their-classes thing.”
As their midday meal continued, they talked wedding (mostly floral arrangements and set pieces), funny stories from their day so far, a brief temperature check on each other’s moods. When they were done with the bentos Katsuki had so dutifully prepared, Izuku stood up to take their trash — only, Katsuki followed quietly, closely. He slinked behind his fiancé, gently placing his hands on his hips, playfully startling him.
“And how can I help you, Hero Dynamight?” Izuku asked, rolling his eyes as he looked to the side. “I’m not in any trouble, am I?”
Katsuki tried not to give away his ulterior motives, or how perfect that reaction was, instead shaking his head, sucking a breath through his teeth as he replied in a falsely concerned tone. “You were hit by a quirk, Sensei,” his hands danced up to Izuku’s sides. “A bad one, too. But I know how to break it.”
“Oh, do you?”
“You’ll just have to give me a kiss and it all goes away. Sound fair?”
Izuku, all too trusting and none the wiser, turned around to face Katsuki chest to chest, placing light hands onto his torso before leaning in for a chaste peck. He lulled Izuku well, keeping the kisses short and sweet as he ran his hands from Izuku’s shoulders to his elbows, pulling him to wrap them around his upper back. Muscle memory in action, Izuku loosely held the flex of his shoulder blades, Katsuki’s cue to deepen the kiss. It wasn’t long before Izuku was gleefully taking Katsuki’s tongue into his mouth, wrapping it with his own, pressing their open mouths together and letting his Kacchan suck on his tongue in earnest. Izuku’s arms moved up to hang off the taller man’s shoulders as they made out, before he brought them in at his sides to hold either side of Katsuki’s face. Perfectly in routine, Izuku only broke away to tilt his head and let Katsuki lovingly latch to his neck as one of Katsuki’s hands held the small of his back, and the other rested at his side, occasionally caressing his stomach with his thumb.
He could tell Izuku was lost in it now, exactly like he wanted —and Katsuki was sick of playing just above his waistband. In fluid motion, he unbuckled his belt and tugged at the slacks, sinking his hand in to feel Izuku’s cunt through his boxers.
Wet.
For a fleeting moment, Izuku relaxed, leaving his weight to depress Katsuki’s hand, pressing probing fingers up against his pussy. But before Katsuki could rub, coax a pretty little moan out of his lover, curl his fingers against Izuku’s swollen clit, or anything else, Izuku’s eyes went wide and he shot his hand down to grip Katsuki’s wrist and pull him out. Katsuki had to grit his teeth through a chuckle at the way he jumped back, frantically trying to fix his clothes and flatten out any wayward wrinkles.
“Bad Kacchan!” he whisper-shouted.
“Oh, come on, ‘Zu… You can’t tell me you weren’t–”
“Very bad! My students will be back any minute now!” His face was flushed, and his forehead was every so slightly sticky with a bit of sweat.
“I could’ve handled that in eight,” Katsuki punctuated his flirting with a long glance down Izuku’s frame.
“Go home!”
God fucking damn it! Alright. Even Katsuki, proud as he was, could admit attempting to finger Izuku at UA where he had no control of who could come in or out of his partner’s classroom, less than fifteen minutes before students were due to return, was audacious of him. He overplayed his hand. Quite literally. But, despite how completely anticlimactic and underwhelming things ended up, it was fine. Totally fine. Each fumble left Izuku a little antsier at night; Katsuki had noticed his restless tossing and turning, and he was going to assume it was from sexual frustration addled wet dreams. So, he pivoted, as any flexible lover should, even if it took patience, realizing that Izuku’s overactive imagination was doing the rest of the work for him.
On Friday, Katsuki was out of the house before Izuku woke up, having a longer day at the agency ahead of him, in addition to his usual post-work training session, meaning he’d be back home an hour after Izuku left UA. Curiously, Katsuki didn’t get a single call or text from his fiance. He didn’t think too hard about it until it was radio silent during his free period, and he started thinking of possible explanations here and there. He knew Izuku’s limits well enough to know he hadn’t gone too far, but he also knew Izuku well enough to know that he didn’t take kindly to too much teasing. Katsuki wondered what kind of state he’d find him in when he got home the whole drive there, entering the front door around 7 PM to eerie quiet.
“I’m home, baby,” Katsuki called out as he took his shoes off.
Izuku shuffled into his view while Katsuki set down his duffle bag in its usual spot, still in his work clothes, which made him raise an eyebrow.
“Welcome home,” he said softly. Izuku’s eyes seemed heavy, staring at Katsuki as he fiddled with his jutted bottom lip. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting impatiently for Katsuki to acknowledge him, mouthing like his tongue was dry and he desperately wanted that feeling to disappear. It dawned on Katsuki quickly what this was.
Izuku was so, so horny.
Katsuki tried not to look too pleased with himself, imagining the fit Izuku was in alone, if he tried to masturbate and it only made it worse, the way he must’ve waited like an anxious pet for Katsuki to get home, and more. Instead, he kept things light.
“How was your day?”
His eyes went wide, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he brought Katsuki into a hug, hands gripping and stretching the back of his shirt.
“I’m sorry, Kacchan, I’m sorry. But I just can’t handle you teasing me like this for another day, and I know you know what you’re doing to me, so please,” Katsuki’s fiancé dropped to his knees, arms outstretched so he could grip at the fabric around Katsuki’s thighs. With his head leaned back, Katsuki could see the shine of tears misting his green eyes. “I won’t ignore it anymore. Please, I give up, okay? Please, please, please touch me, Kacchan. Please.”
From a placid, mildly amused expression, a cruel smirk curled across Katsuki’s lips.
“You could barely make it a week, huh, Deku? About time.”
Katsuki took Izuku’s face into his hands, helping him to stand, and glancing between his lips and his eyes —telltale signs of what was sure to be a makeout session that set both of their bodies on fire. And desperate for all of his Kacchan’s affection, Izuku leaned in, guided by Katsuki’s strong hand cradling the back of his neck, only to be rebuffed the moment before their lips locked. Their lips brushed through a ghost of a kiss before Katsuki scooped the other man up like he weighed nothing, bringing them into the living room where Izuku expected to straddle his lap, instead being forcefully turned over the blonde’s knees.
“No,” he whimpered. “Kacchan, please!”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t gonna touch you. But shouldn’t I get to have a little fun, since you spent all that time pretending?”
Izuku tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down with a splayed hand in the middle of his back.
“Admit you’re a fuckin’ sex addict, Izuku,” Katsuki demanded smoothly, groping Izuku’s ass and upper thigh through his clothes.
“I am not!” Izuku refuted strenuously. “Kacchan was just messing with me over and over and-”
“Admit it,” Katsuki ordered, mockingly pinching Izuku’s cheeks together over and over with his cupped hand, forcing his mouth to stay open in a little o. “Say you’re a sex addict.”
Disobediently, Izuku stayed silent, mumbling barely audible disagreements, until Katsuki’s hand slipped between his thighs. He twisted his wrist to rub along Izuku’s clothed slit, with just enough pressure that it’s almost a bridge too far. With Katsuki squeezing his face, Izuku couldn’t muffle any of his sounds, rocking his hips back and forth to encourage Katsuki to keep playing with his cunt, only for him to pull his hand away right as Izuku was worked up, hiccuping through his moans and pleas for Katsuki to keep going.
“Say it, Izuku.”
“ ‘M a s’x addict!” Izuku cried out through his pouted lips as the blonde harshly grinded his fingerpads in figure-8’s into Izuku’s clit, heel of his palm feeling exactly how wet he was getting his boxers. “ ‘M a sex addict,” he gasped for breath as soon as he got the chance. “ ‘M addicted to sex— sex with Kaah–chn– aah!”
Damn right, you are. “Oh?” Katsuki continued to play with Izuku’s cunt over his clothes.
“Yes!” Izuku whined, humping as best as he could, but still missing Katsuki’s thigh by a fraction of an inch. “Need it– need y’r fingers— Kacchan’s fingers, please.”
“No.”
Izuku let out a miserable whimper as he started to rock his hips in a circle, as if the next word he was going to moan would be Why?
Generously, Katsuki answered him. “I think you have a little more to admit.”
He pulled his hand back, and came down swiftly on Izuku’s ass, jolting him forward as Katsuki bit his bottom lip at the firm recoil; the other man tensed so quickly, Katsuki thought he’d cum from the contact alone (which would've been a delightful thing to ruin him with). Part of him, maybe more than he realized, was feral too, having inadvertently edged himself for days.
“Tell me what you’ve spent all this time thinking about, I-zu-ku.”
“N-Nothing! Nothing, I– hhnn!”
Another harsh smack. Izuku squirmed on Katsuki’s legs and shook his head, which earned him another spank. By the sixth or seventh one (Izuku couldn’t keep track, mind deluded with horniness), he cried out the answer his partner was looking for.
“I th- haah– mmn– I though’ ab’t Kacch’n eating my pussy!” Izuku moaned pathetically. “And I- I thought about Kacchan m-m- aah– I can’t! ‘S so, so dirty I ca-aan’t.”
Without needing to speak, they both knew what was coming next. Another spank, just as hard (if not harder) than the others. At this point, Izuku might get rug burns on his ass from the friction his clothes made. By twelve or thirteen, he was spilling his guts.
“Thought about K’cchan making me squirt on his face, a-and not stopping! Using my- nghh- using my pussy til I c-couldn’t see or think!” Izuku’s head fell. “Thought about h-how Kacchan fucked me after I– after I teased him; made me cum so much…”
“Good boy, Deku,” Katsuki rubbed his palm into Izuku’s ass over where he spanked him. “You’ve got a really slutty mind, huh?”
Shamefully, Izuku nodded, turning his hips over and over, now tearfully praying that Katsuki would hurry to pull his pants off and touch his pussy properly.
“Let me– hhah– make it up to Kacchan,” Izuku said, arching his back so it was easier, not caring if Katsuki tore through them. He mumbled again about wanting Kacchan’s fingers, and Katsuki gave him what he was begging for, yanking his slacks and boxers to rest around his knees.
Katsuki caressed a testing finger along his cunt, and spoke out to Izuku in a low, smooth tone. “Fuck, Deku. Always so fuckin’ soaked for me.” Not-so-light slap on his ass one more time. “Might not even need any spit, do you, baby?”
“N-no, si–ir! Auh!” As Katsuki’s middle finger sunk deep in one swift motion, Izuku’s words broke up into pretty noises, hands flexing with pleasure as Katsuki’s fingers pumped in and out, starting fast out the gate.
“Fuckin’ perfect, Deku. Open up so easy for me,” He cooed.
With all of the positive response he was getting, it wasn’t long before Katsuki added his ring finger. Izuku was sopping wet, the slick clinging to his inner thigh and soaking Katsuki’s brisk digits, practically dripping into his palm as he opened his hole. He was whining indiscriminately (faster, harder, Kacchan, more, more, more, please, please, please!), and Katsuki mumbled sadistically, just loud enough, watching Izuku rock back into his hand. By the time he was scissoring him apart with three fingers, Izuku was gnawing on his bottom lip and twitching, mind swirling with each change in speed to pull him closer and closer to orgasm. Izuku’s legs slid further apart, mewling weakly and clenching around Katsuki’s fingers. They curled inside, the other man turned his wrist, and finally, he pulled out to play with Izuku’s clit.
“I think you’re good and ready now, ‘Zuku,” Katsuki said, telling him to kick off his pants completely before pulling Izuku up to straddle his lap —Katsuki’s chest to his back—, fingers still encircling his clit and flicking down against the nub, making Izuku jolt with each touch.
Izuku’s hand moved between his thighs, grinding the heel of his palm against Katsuki’s crotch, telling his partner without words to hurry (if he knew what was good for him). Figuring he’d suffered enough, Katsuki reached to push his sweatpants off.
“You want your reward for waiting, baby? For being a good boy?” He asked, thumbing the waistband of his briefs until Izuku nodded eagerly, pulling down for his erection to bob out. Izuku’s eyes stayed fixed down at his prize, frozen with anticipation until Katsuki wrapped both hands around his middle to lift him.
There was a beat before Izuku lowered himself down, one hand lazily playing with his nipple while he and Katsuki realized just how satisfying this moment of content was going to be.
Izuku enveloped Katsuki with a bit of resistance, the stretch obviously turning Izuku on. “Kacchan so– s’ thick– ouh, sssoo full!” He groaned out, rolling his neck to the side. About halfway down, Katsuki reached his hand to clutch Izuku’s shoulder, forcing him to arch his back and sink deeper.
They found rhythm instantaneously, partially made up of Izuku riding what he could handle, fawning over Katsuki’s size like a virgin, and the rest being Katsuki’s strokes, handling Izuku like an agile fleshlight, speeding up and slowing down his pace however he pleased.
“Fuck,” Katsuki moaned, watching Izuku’s asscheeks clap on his dick, a kind of metric trance accentuated by the bend of his spine. It wasn’t long before Katsuki couldn’t take much more and brought Izuku into a tighter position.
Izuku gagged when Katsuki squeezed his arm around his throat, thick bicep pressing up against his airways. He pressed his right hand up, letting Katsuki take his left arm to yank him back down onto his lap, bouncing the green haired man on his cock by thrusting his hips up to meet his ass, red from all the perfect abuse he’d gotten thus far. Katsuki growled with each buck, a possessive, primal noise coming up deep from his chest. Even though Izuku could barely breathe —mouth hung open with quivering lower lip for whimpers that couldn’t escape—, his hips couldn’t stop moving, tensing his calves to bounce up and down quicker as he made shapes with his lower body on Katsuki’s shaft. The muscles in his thighs flexed, stomach turned, telltale signs of a rapidly building orgasm that he’d been on the edge of for all too long. He couldn’t warn him, eyes shooting open wide before falling unevenly lidded; Izuku threw his head back and gripped Katsuki’s forearm with white-knuckling strength as he came, grinding on his lap and whining through the orgasm, jerking with the strength of it before he tilted forward, lips parting again and again, slick with spit. His distinct, fat tears pooled on Katsuki’s skin. Katsuki’s only jealousy was that, in this position, he couldn’t see the state of his perfect boy. Tucking a hand behind his knee, Katsuki lifted Izuku’s leg so he could turn him to face him —without much resistance now that Izuku was wobbly and woozy from creaming on Katsuki’s dick.
“Oh, look at you, Deku,” Katsuki muttered, another rumble from the back of his throat. Izuku reached out to wrap his arms lazily over the other man’s shoulder, pouting expectantly for a kiss, only for Katsuki to smile slyly at him. “I haven’t cum yet, baby.”
Before he could react, Katsuki hoisted Izuku up, walking him towards the edge of the living room and pinning Izuku in place, putting his back against the cool wall. When Katsuki told him to put his hands above his head, Izuku wrapped his legs around his sides, and Katsuki gripped his wrists with the press of his palm and three fingers curled around. They stared, just for a moment, before Izuku chased for Katsuki’s mouth while Katsuki brushed against his upper lip, allowing them to easily crash their lips together —the final, intense meeting of two waves of compounding tension, the mingling, wet heat of their sexes between and underneath Izuku.
Katsuki lifted his hips. The tip flicked against Izuku’s wanton entrance, his trembling thighs barely able to handle the circling taunt, the humping against his twitching clit, more empty than when they started. Katsuki moaned softly as he lightly stroked himself, trying to incorporate the long-since-leaking, thick string of precum as lube. Izuku’s eyelashes fluttered, giving Katsuki a tempting, guileless look that was impossibly seductive.
“Are you g’nna give it to me, sir?”
That was all it took.
Unable to quiet himself as his partner took his cock back in, Katsuki was groaning against Izuku’s ear, bottom lip brushing his ear lobe or his cheek intermittently. With every new inch, Izuku found himself briefly cross-eyed, mouth pursed before falling open to a little circle like a virgin. He lifted his left hip to change the angle, making Katsuki push his hips up and drag his dick back out to the head, stirring up Izuku’s walls further. His pace shifted based on what felt natural, how their bodies moved together, and whenever Izuku worked him up enough for him to need to remind him who was in charge.
“Oh, f-fuh– hah– nhh, Kacchan,” Izuku’s tongue fell out of his mouth to meet Katsuki’s, hands flexing in and out of fists. They continued making out like teenagers, often missing the other’s lips all together, catching the sides of their mouths, tongues licking anywhere they could explore, Katsuki sucking on Izuku's and bobbing down to kiss him again. Through the messy spit sharing, Izuku moaned a muddled I love you to his Kacchan over and over like a spell. A spell that eventually devolved into that oh, so sweet, oh, so familiar begging for deeper, faster, dick, dick, Kacchan’s dick. Katsuki had never been so grateful he was gonna marry a whore. The way Izuku rolled his hips at an angle and clenched down just how he liked it on his future husband's cock —Katsuki could've prematurely thrusted to the hilt and shot his thick spunk right where it belonged. But that’d be much too easy on Izuku, who would take what he got as it was given, even if it brought him to tears. Which, it did, as Katsuki would soon find out, as he unlatched his hand from Izuku’s wrists to hoist him by his ass and fuck up into him with renewed vigor. Practically held up by Katsuki’s fat length, Izuku wrapped his arms around his fiance’s back and squeezed, letting him thrust into him nice and rough, regardless of how much it would leave his hips and legs aching.
Strangled whimpers, moans, and screams all against Katsuki’s chest, much to his chagrin. Katsuki spread his ass cheeks wide, hooking his fingers on either side to anchor him while he pulled out, before slamming in to the base, slow, deep, growling at the feeling of each stretch to envelop his dick in that familiar warm and wet hole.
“Let me hear you, Izu, let me fuckin’, ghh, let me fuckin’ hear you,” he ordered, and Izuku’s head fell back against the wall obediently, drool dribbling down his chin and eyes crossed in ecstasy.
“Kacchan– Kacchan’s b-biiig dick– m’ssed it s’ much– Kacchan f-fucki’h m’ –nnh, aah! Ahhn- yesyesyes–”
The skin slapping, Izuku’s wet cunt gripping and gushing around Katsuki’s throbbing cock, the occasional soft slam back against the wall. Katsuki dug his fingerpads into Izuku’s ass and thighs, pulling at the plump flesh, yanking his hips every which way to chase their joint orgasm. Izuku was completely fucked out, Katsuki’s dick now at the perfect angle to hit his g-spot again and again; he thought, for a moment —just before his mind went blank completely, that his throat would go hoarse from the way he was crying out for his fiance and his impossibly thick talented manhood.
He was pounding away at him (w)recklessly, and Izuku was too far gone. “Kaa– ch— ‘m cumming! ‘M cumm’ng, cummih–!” He cried out, body overtaken by a second raucous orgasm, only encouraging Katsiki to continue after his own pleasure.
“Cum in me, Kacchan– Kaah– Katsuki— cum in m’ pussy, please!”
“God, you’re such– shit– such a slut for a fuckin’ creampie, Izuku.”
“Just use me ‘n cum. Please, please —jus’ use me ‘n cum.”
Katsuki’s hips stuttered, and before he could regain control, Izuku locked his ankles and forced Katsuki as deep as his cock could go, balls tightening before he came, groaning Izuku’s name as he emptied a full load well-kept just for his fiance’s womb, all with Izuku in his ear, whining yes like a rallying prayer. Neither wanted Katsuki to pull out. When Katsuki was finally spent, he pressed their foreheads together —closeness for closeness’s sake—, but he couldn’t stop himself from licking into Izuku’s open mouth for a messy little kiss. Panting and wrapped up in each other, they both took a deep breath in exquisite unison and locked lips, slowly descending to the floor —exhausted enough to lay down but not exhausted enough to stop swapping spit and exploring each other’s mouths. Without breaking the kiss (aside from the wayward I love you’s, or Izuku’s adorable gasps for air because even after all this time, shitty nerd couldn’t remember to breathe through his nose), Katsuki’s hand hovered over Izuku’s, and his fingers slipped in the spaces between his partner’s own, letting them hold hands nice and tight in the post-bliss afterglow. The shorter man only held him tighter. Something like holy matrimony.
Izuku and Katsuki’s therapist rubbed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, doubtlessly calculating the kindest, most professional way to say he didn’t appreciate being an unwitting participant in their foreplay.
“I guess, if you guys no longer feel like it is interrupting either of your lives,” He said carefully. “Then, I’d say you both have an impossibly strong bond, you’re both in a great place in your careers, and you have…” Their therapist cleared his throat before finishing, “...an active and dynamic personal life. It only makes sense to push forward with the rest of your wedding planning, choosing a date, the works.”
Izuku and Katsuki nodded thoughtfully as he spoke, then passed between each other knowing glances, excited to celebrate the verdict as soon as they got home.