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Morning comes in slowly, warmth before light, the room still dim and quiet, the curtains barely letting in the early haze of the city. Katsuki drifts in that half-place between sleep and waking where his body registers sensation before his mind catches up, where the world exists only as heat and pressure and the soft pull of want that never quite left him even after he passed out.
Something moves between his thighs.
His breath hitches before he opens his eyes, his hips giving a faint, unconscious roll as awareness settles into his muscles. His cunt feels swollen and sensitive, tender from the night before, still loose and aching in a way that makes his stomach tighten when he shifts. Slick clings between his thighs, fresh and warm, soaking into the sheets beneath him, coating skin that never fully cooled.
A thumb brushes his clit.
His lashes flutter, his brow knitting as a sound slips out of him before he can stop it, something low and unguarded that he would deny later if asked. His legs tense, then relax, thighs falling open without him meaning to, giving in to the touch that keeps circling, pressing just enough to make the nerves flare bright.
Inside him, fingers move.
Thick fingers. Calloused fingers. The kind that know weight and grip and strain, the pads rough in a way that should be too much and somehow isn’t. They slide in shallow, pull back, ease in again, grazing his inner walls instead of thrusting, tracing along the places that still remember being stretched and filled. Katsuki’s toes curl as the drag sends a shiver up his spine, his breath turning uneven, his body responding before his mouth does.
He shifts, slow and heavy with sleep, one hand sliding across the mattress until it finds Izuku’s forearm where it braces beside him. The skin there is warm, solid, dusted with fine hair, and Katsuki’s fingers curl around it weakly, anchoring himself to the reality of it.
“Fuck,” he mutters, voice rough and low, still thick with sleep.
Izuku stills for a second, fingers pausing inside him without pulling away, his thumb resting against Katsuki’s clit. Katsuki hears his breath then, close and steady, feels the weight of his body behind him, chest pressed to Katsuki’s back, one thigh hooked over his leg to keep him open.
“Morning,” Izuku murmurs, voice soft and warm against the back of Katsuki’s neck, lips brushing skin as he speaks. “I didn’t mean to wake you yet.”
Katsuki snorts weakly, his head tipping back just enough to bump against Izuku’s shoulder. “Yeah, well. You did.”
The thumb starts moving again, slow circles that make Katsuki’s breath catch despite himself, the pressure careful around the tender swell, easing instead of pushing. Inside him, Izuku’s fingers curl slightly, just enough to graze that spot that makes Katsuki’s hips twitch and his hand tighten on Izuku’s arm.
“You were already soaking,” Izuku says quietly, observant, like he is stating a fact that matters. “I thought you were dreaming.”
Katsuki exhales sharply, his jaw clenching as another sound slips out of him when the fingers slide deeper, the rough pads dragging against his insides in a way that makes his whole body hum. He presses back without thinking, ass nudging into Izuku’s hips, asking without words for more even as his pride bristles at being read so easily.
“Shut up,” he mutters, though there is no heat behind it, just breath and want and the faint edge of embarrassment that always follows him when he is caught like this.
Izuku smiles against his neck. Katsuki can hear it in his voice before he feels the kiss there, soft and unhurried, lips pressing warm against skin still marked from the night before. His thumb slows, then presses a little firmer, enough to draw a sharper reaction.
“Easy,” Izuku murmurs, his arm tightening around Katsuki’s waist to keep him steady when his hips start to rock. “You’re still sore.”
Katsuki scoffs, breathless, his fingers digging into Izuku’s forearm. “Didn’t stop you last night.”
“That was different,” Izuku says, fingers easing back a fraction before sliding in again, slower this time, careful to keep the stretch gentle. “You were wound up then. Right now you’re half asleep.”
Katsuki opens his eyes finally, the room swimming into focus as he stares at the wall ahead of him, sunlight just starting to creep along the edge of the window frame. His breathing is already uneven, chest rising and falling against the sheets, his body caught between wanting to melt back into sleep and wanting to chase the pleasure building low in his belly.
He lets his head fall back against Izuku’s shoulder, eyes closing again as Izuku’s thumb keeps its steady rhythm, circling and pressing in a way that makes heat coil tighter inside him. The fingers shift, one pulling back while another slides in, the stretch familiar but enough to make his toes curl and his breath stutter.
The calluses scrape just right, rough against soft, and Katsuki shivers, a quiet whine slipping out before he can swallow it down.
Izuku exhales, the sound deep and controlled, his hips pressing forward just slightly, enough that Katsuki feels the solid weight of him behind him, hard and warm against the small of his back. Izuku is just as affected by this as he is, even if he is better at hiding it.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” Izuku says, his voice low, his thumb slowing again as if to give Katsuki room to answer honestly.
Katsuki huffs a breath that turns into a shaky laugh, his grip tightening on Izuku’s arm. “If it was too much, I’d be yelling.”
Izuku chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through Katsuki’s back. “That’s true.”
The thumb presses again, a little firmer now, the circles tightening, and Katsuki’s breath breaks, his hips rolling back into Izuku’s hand as pleasure sparks through him. Inside him, Izuku’s fingers curl deliberately, grazing and pressing in a way that makes his cunt flutter and clench, slick soaking Izuku’s knuckles.
“Oh,” Katsuki breathes, the sound torn out of him, his body tensing as the heat in his belly builds faster now.
Izuku’s arm tightens around him, holding him close, his mouth finding the curve of Katsuki’s shoulder, kissing slow and warm, grounding him even as his hand keeps working him open.
“Good,” Izuku murmurs. “Just like that.”
Katsuki’s fingers curl into the sheets, his other hand slipping back to grip at Izuku’s hip, needing something solid as his body starts to tip toward that edge. His thighs tremble, muscles tightening as the thumb keeps its pace and the fingers inside him press just right, rough and warm.
He bites down on his lip, a groan vibrating in his chest as his hips start to move in earnest, grinding back against Izuku’s hand, chasing the pressure even as his pride flares weakly at how desperate it makes him feel.
“Don’t you dare slow down,” he mutters, breathless, his voice cracking despite himself.
Izuku hums, a low sound of agreement, his thumb pressing harder now, the circles faster, the fingers inside him curling with more intent. Katsuki’s back arches, his thighs shaking as pleasure surges through him in waves that make his breath stutter and his vision go white behind his closed eyes.
The release hits him in a full-body clench, his cunt gripping Izuku’s fingers, slick spilling over them as his hips jerk and a broken sound tears from his throat, his whole body pulling tight and then shaking loose, pulse after pulse rolling through him as he rides it out in Izuku’s arms.
Izuku stays with him through it, his hand steady, his arm holding him close, murmuring soft nonsense against his shoulder as Katsuki comes apart slowly, the aftershocks rippling through him until he slumps back, spent and oversensitive and faintly trembling.
When Izuku finally stills his hand, easing his fingers out gently, Katsuki lets out a long, shaky breath, his grip loosening as his body settles.
“Morning,” he mutters again, eyes closed.
Izuku smiles against his skin and kisses his shoulder once more, slow and fond.
Katsuki exhales, letting himself go slack against Izuku’s chest. His limbs feel loose, heavy with the kind of slow-burning pleasure that seeps into bone. His thighs are still parted, trembling slightly where the last pulses of release roll through him, slick cooling on the inside of his legs and over Izuku’s fingers. The quiet sits thick with breath and the distant hum of morning traffic behind the closed window. He lets himself drift, every muscle softening one by one.
The thick, flushed tip of Izuku’s cock drags along the seam of his cunt.
A glide, slow and deliberate, grazing wet heat over oversensitive skin.
Katsuki jerks like he’s been shocked, body tensing so violently he almost slips from Izuku’s hold. His arm flails back instinctively, palm thudding weakly against Izuku’s thigh with more frustration than force.
“The fuck did I just say?” he snaps, breath catching on the tail end of the words. “I told you I’m sore—”
Izuku hushes him, barely above a whisper, lips brushing against the edge of Katsuki’s ear. “I know. I know. You did. But you came already,” he murmurs, cock nudging forward again, slower this time. “I want to too. Just a little. Like you helped me last night.”
Katsuki makes a sound, half-growl and half-gasp, as the head pushes down between swollen folds again, dragging without entering. It’s hot, so hot, and wide, and Katsuki knows what it felt like inside him, how deep it went, how much it burned even when he was ready.
“You’re so fucking—” His words cut off with a sharp inhale when Izuku’s hands slide up his chest, large palms cupping both sides and squeezing. Katsuki’s back arches in reflex, nipples stiffening against Izuku’s warm skin, his throat catching a sound he tries and fails to bite down.
Izuku groans at the reaction, hips rolling behind him, his cock smearing slick along the mess already dripping from Katsuki’s cunt. The pressure is constant now, the weight of him pressing down in careful circles, catching at the rim on every pass without pushing in, and Katsuki twitches with every movement.
“Stop that,” Katsuki hisses, shoulders tightening as Izuku’s thumbs sweep over his nipples, rough calluses dragging over oversensitive skin. His head tips forward, jaw clenching. “I told you I’m— shit, I’m not ready for that again.”
Izuku hums, low and warm against his neck. “You don’t sound like you want me to stop,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the curve of Katsuki’s shoulder as he squeezes his chest again, firmer this time. “And you’re not pushing me off.”
Katsuki growls, but it’s hollow. His arms feel like they’ve been replaced with warm sand, slow and barely responsive. His legs are still spread, his cunt twitching every time Izuku’s cockhead rubs past the opening, catching on the rim before sliding back. The teasing is lazy, deliberate, and Katsuki can’t match his strength right now, can’t find the will to fight in a way that would actually make Izuku stop.
He grits his teeth as Izuku presses forward again, just slightly, just until the swollen head pushes at the entrance with real pressure.
Katsuki stiffens. His whole body flinches hard.
Izuku stills immediately.
“Sorry,” he breathes, voice low with restraint, lips dragging over the curve of Katsuki’s neck. His hips hold motionless, his cock pressed tight against the entrance, twitching with every heartbeat. “Shit. You’re tight.”
“You’re sorry?” Katsuki snaps, chest rising with each shallow breath. “Then stop being such a fucking pervert about it—”
Izuku chuckles against his skin, breathless. “I said I’m sorry. I didn’t say I’d stop. Not that sorry.”
Katsuki’s mouth drops open, disbelief catching behind his tongue before another sharp gasp punches out of him. Izuku pushes again, just enough to press the head in slow, until the stretch starts to open him up around the tip. The depth is nothing, barely there, but the width of it makes Katsuki’s body react before he can think, his hips shifting back slightly, just enough to take more, and the moment it happens Izuku groans, guttural, and presses his palms firmer over Katsuki’s chest.
Katsuki curses again, breath hissing between clenched teeth as his thighs tremble around Izuku’s hips. The soreness blooms dull and raw, like skin worn down by too much heat. His cunt flutters and tightens around the intrusion, and every movement registers twice on nerves already stripped bare.
“Fuck,” Katsuki breathes, eyes squeezed shut, one hand slapping the mattress weakly. “You’re gonna split me open again.”
Izuku keeps his mouth at Katsuki’s shoulder, pressing kisses there between shallow breaths, hands stroking down the soft curve of Katsuki’s stomach before sliding up again to squeeze his chest, slower this time, less like groping and more like trying to feel the weight of him.
Katsuki’s body keeps trembling. Every part of him feels too full and too empty at once, and he hasn’t told him to stop yet.
“You’re warm,” Izuku murmurs, tongue brushing the edge of his ear. “And wet. I could slide in so easy.”
“No,” Katsuki snaps, hips jerking away without force. He’s grinding more than resisting now, the motion confused and aimless, and Katsuki can hear the slick sounds building where their bodies press together. “I didn’t fucking say you could—”
“You didn’t say I couldn’t,” Izuku says, low and strained, voice cracking at the end. He shifts forward again, just an inch, just until the thick ridge pushes deeper, and Katsuki makes a strangled noise, his fingers curling into the sheets.
“Fuck— Izuku—”
Izuku grinds his hips in tiny, controlled motions, never sinking deeper than that first inch but staying there, holding. Katsuki feels the ache spread open and drag fire through his belly, feels how much his body pulses around it even as it protests.
Katsuki’s nails dig into Izuku’s arm. His jaw is tight, flush spreading across his cheeks, and there is no push to shove him off. Just breathless muttering under his breath, curses and groans that lose shape every time Izuku shifts against him.
Izuku presses a kiss to his temple. “Just a little. Just need to feel it. Let me, Kacchan.”
“You’re insatiable,” Katsuki growls.
“You’re irresistible,” Izuku replies, and rocks forward just slightly, until the tip presses deeper again, where it gets tight, where Katsuki flinches and bites his lip and lets out a soft, shaking sound that carries nothing of refusal in it.
Katsuki doesn’t say stop, and Izuku doesn’t move any faster, and neither of them pulls away.
Katsuki groans low in his throat, the sound more frustration than pain, more pressure than pleasure. His hips are twitching where they rest against Izuku’s thighs, cunt clenching from the last drag of Izuku’s cock pushing in too slow, too deliberate. That thick tip is lodged just inside, the weight of it pressing heat against stretched walls, and Katsuki can’t take this pace, not right now, not with how sore he is, how raw and overworked everything feels.
Izuku breathes hard against Katsuki’s neck, one hand firm at his waist, the other cupping his chest, palm broad and warm, thumb flicking over a nipple that refuses to calm down.
Katsuki swears under his breath and plants both feet flat against the mattress.
“Nope,” he mutters, voice rough, jaw tight. “Too fucking slow. Get off—”
He pushes with his thighs, hard as he can manage in this position, trying to lift himself off Izuku’s cock before it can sink any deeper. His hands grab at Izuku’s forearm, nails digging into thick muscle as he wriggles upward, gasping at the stretch when the cockhead pulls against the hold of his cunt.
Izuku doesn’t budge.
The arm around his waist tightens, enough to hold him there, enough to remind Katsuki who has more strength between them. Izuku shifts behind him, chest rising against Katsuki’s back as he lets out a sound, half-groan and half-laugh.
“Where’re you going?” he murmurs, voice low and sleep-warm, dragging his palm up from Katsuki’s waist to the center of his chest. “You’re still dripping around me.”
Katsuki growls and squirms again, trying to shimmy up on his knees and get his cunt off that thick stretch, but all it does is make him roll along the head, the swollen tip dragging along sensitive flesh as slick pools again, warm and conspicuous against his thighs.
“Off of you, jackass,” Katsuki snaps, voice catching when Izuku’s hand shifts and presses his chest together, squeezing slow. “I told you I’m sore, and you’re still just sitting there, like— fuck—”
“I’m not doing anything,” Izuku says, and it’s the truth and a lie at once. His fingers splay across Katsuki’s sternum, thumb brushing the curve of one nipple in soft circles that send sparks down Katsuki’s spine.
“You’re doing this,” Katsuki bites out, gasping when he tries to rise again and the tip grinds in deeper instead, catching on that sore, tender ridge just inside. His eyes slam shut, his thighs shuddering under the strain of trying to lift himself off.
Izuku shushes him again, gentle, calm. He bends down, kisses the nape of Katsuki’s neck, murmurs against sweat-slick skin. “If you keep moving like that, you’re just going to make it worse.”
Katsuki snarls under his breath, but his muscles are trembling now, body caught between retreat and desire, nerves lighting up with every shift of pressure. His cunt pulses stubbornly, too sore to take more but too full to let go, still aching in that slow, rhythmic way that has everything to do with Izuku’s cock pressing heat inside him.
His hands scrabble uselessly against Izuku’s arm, the one wrapped around his waist, solid and immovable.
“You don’t need to hold me down,” he mutters, trying to ignore how high and breathless his voice sounds. “You think I can’t move on my own?”
“You can,” Izuku says, pressing his lips just behind Katsuki’s ear, his breath slow and steady. “You’re just bad at it when you’re shaking this much.”
“Asshole,” Katsuki grits, but the words fall flat when Izuku’s fingers tighten again, cupping his chest like he can feel his heartbeat stuttering through his ribs.
Katsuki tries once more, one last attempt, thighs flexing, hips rocking up with a hard twist, but Izuku groans behind him as his cock drags slowly along slick walls, the tip catching, pressing just enough to make Katsuki flinch.
“You keep doing that,” Izuku breathes, voice wrecked, “and I’m gonna slide all the way in.”
Katsuki goes rigid, breath caught halfway in his throat.
“Don’t,” he warns, fierce, but even he can hear the shake in it. “I swear—”
Izuku’s hand smooths over his chest again, soothing and heavy. “Then stay still.”
Katsuki exhales slowly through his teeth, chest heaving as he gives up the fight, his own body turning traitor again, muscles softening against Izuku’s hold. His hips settle, but the weight of Izuku’s cock stays right where it is, warm and thick, nestled in just enough to make Katsuki feel full and restless and held.
Izuku presses another kiss to his neck, his hand still firm on Katsuki’s chest, thumb brushing over soft, sweat-damp skin.
“I like when you try to fight me,” he murmurs, voice low and smiling. “But I like this more.”
Katsuki groans again, half into the pillow, eyes shut tight.
“Shut the fuck up,” he mutters, and he doesn’t try to pull away again, trembling, stretched, full of the heat he can’t seem to shake.
Katsuki trembles where Izuku has him pinned, half on his side, half across Izuku’s lap, thighs parted, cunt stretched open just enough to hold the thick tip. The depth is nothing yet, but the weight of it presses steady against his insides, coaxing. He’s too sensitive, his cunt still fluttering around the intrusion, muscles twitching without his permission, and he can’t tell if his body wants to take more or push it all out.
Izuku breathes slow behind him. One hand cups under Katsuki’s soft chest, squeezing absent-mindedly, thumb moving in idle circles, and the calm of it is maddening when Katsuki is the one struggling to keep himself together.
The stretch of him still pulses between Katsuki’s legs, thick and heavy, and Katsuki swallows hard, breath catching as he whispers, “Don’t go deeper— fuck— don’t go all the way in.”
His voice cracks around the words. He doesn’t have the strength left to mask the way his legs tremble or how raw his body feels.
Behind him, Izuku’s breath brushes his shoulder. He doesn’t pull out. His arm holds firm at Katsuki’s waist while his hips nudge just slightly forward, and Katsuki flinches hard.
“You’re gonna be okay,” Izuku murmurs, soft against the curve of his ear. “You’re already so slippery inside, Kacchan. You’re letting me in easy.”
Katsuki lets out a sharp sound and turns his face toward the mattress.
“Don’t say shit like that,” he mutters, voice low and shaking. “I don’t like it when you go all the way in. I told you.”
“I know,” Izuku says, kissing the back of his neck, voice warm and even. “I’m being careful.”
“You say that—” Katsuki’s voice pitches, breath snagging as the head of Izuku’s cock presses down, a thick drag against his walls that makes him jolt— “but you’re fucking huge, and careful doesn’t mean what you think it means when you’re this— this—”
His cunt squeezes around the tip before he finishes the sentence, a slow, involuntary clench that pulls a groan out of Izuku and makes Katsuki’s ears go hot.
“See?” Izuku breathes against his shoulder, and Katsuki can hear the grin in it. “You’re pulling me in.”
“I am not pulling you in, my body is just—”
“Your body likes me.”
“My body is a traitor and so are you.”
Izuku laughs, low and warm, and presses a kiss to the hinge of Katsuki’s jaw. “That’s sweet, Kacchan.”
“It wasn’t sweet, it was an insult—”
“You called your body a traitor because it wants me inside. That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”
Katsuki makes a sound that starts as a snarl and ends somewhere closer to a whimper when Izuku’s hips shift, the head dragging down half an inch and pressing against something that makes his toes curl. His cunt clenches again, tighter this time, and he feels slick pulse out around the shaft, warm and damning.
“Stop— stop making me—”
“I’m not making you do anything.” Izuku’s thumb traces a slow circle over Katsuki’s nipple, and Katsuki arches into it before he can catch himself. “That’s all you.”
“I hate you.”
“You’re squeezing me so hard right now.”
“Because you won’t get out.”
“Because you won’t let me.” Izuku rocks his hips, barely a movement, just enough to shift the angle, and Katsuki’s breath dissolves into a shaky exhale, his thighs pressing together around Izuku’s. “Every time I try to hold still, you clench down. You know that, right? You know what you’re doing to me?”
Katsuki shoves his face deeper into the pillow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You came a little just now,” Izuku says, quiet, almost conversational, his fingers sliding down to press lightly against Katsuki’s clit where it’s swollen and slick. “Right when I pressed there. I felt it.”
The flush that crawls up Katsuki’s neck reaches his hairline. “I did not.”
“You did. You’re still twitching.” Izuku’s fingers rest there without moving, just holding the contact, and Katsuki’s hips jerk once, sharply, against his will. “There. Like that.”
“That’s— that’s a reflex—”
“Mm.” Izuku kisses his shoulder, slow, and his cock pulses where it rests inside, heavy and patient. “A reflex.”
“Don’t say it like that, don’t say it like you’re— like you know—”
“Know what?”
Katsuki’s jaw works. His hands grip the sheets so hard his knuckles ache. “Nothing. Shut up.”
“You get so wet when you’re embarrassed,” Izuku says, and his voice has dropped into something lower, something that vibrates against Katsuki’s spine. “I can feel it. Every time I say something that makes you blush, you get wetter.”
“I’m not blushing.”
“Your ears are red.”
“Because it’s hot in here.”
“It is hot in here.” Izuku’s hand slides back up to cup his chest, squeezing gently, and his thumb drags over the nipple with a roughness that makes Katsuki’s breath catch. “You’re so warm inside. It’s hard to hold still.”
Katsuki’s cunt clenches again, a ripple that starts deep and works outward, and he feels the slick leak out around the shaft, feels it drip down the inside of his thigh, and he wants to die, he wants to kill Izuku, he wants him to shut up and never stop talking in equal measure.
“I don’t want it that deep,” he manages, the words arriving thin and stripped. “Don’t want it in my— in—”
He stops. His mouth closes, teeth clicking together. The word sits right behind them, and he swallows it back down, but Izuku goes very still behind him.
“In your what?” Izuku asks, and his voice is different now.
“Nothing.”
“Kacchan.”
“I said nothing, are you deaf—”
“You were going to say something.” Izuku’s hand tightens on his chest, his breath coming faster against Katsuki’s neck. “What were you going to say?”
“Drop it.”
“Were you going to say womb?”
The silence that follows has its own heartbeat. Katsuki’s cunt clenches so hard around Izuku’s cock that both of them groan, and Katsuki feels something pulse out of him, warm and slick and unmistakable, a small, involuntary release that coats Izuku’s shaft and makes the wet sound between them louder.
“You did,” Izuku breathes, and his voice is shaking. “You came again.”
“I didn’t— that wasn’t—”
“Kacchan.” Izuku’s forehead drops against the back of his shoulder, and his hips rock forward, just barely, just enough to press the thick head against that deep, tender place. “Do you think about it?”
“Think about what,” Katsuki grits, though his voice has gone high and reedy and fools absolutely no one.
“About me. In there.” Izuku’s hand slides down from his chest, slow, fingers spreading over his lower belly, pressing just above where his cock rests inside. “About what would happen if I went all the way in and stayed.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“You’re shaking.”
“Because you’re still inside me, you freak—”
“You’re shaking because you like it.” Izuku presses his palm flat against Katsuki’s belly, and the pressure from outside meets the pressure from inside, and Katsuki makes a sound he will spend the rest of the week pretending he didn’t make. “You like thinking about it.”
“I don’t—”
“You’d be so good at it,” Izuku murmurs, and his voice has gone somewhere Katsuki can’t follow him, somewhere low and wrecked and reverent. “The way you hold me, how tight you get, how warm you are inside— you’d carry so well, Kacchan.”
“Izuku,” Katsuki snarls, and the name comes out broken, cracked right down the middle by a moan he can’t swallow. “Stop talking—”
“Would you let me?” Izuku doesn’t stop. His hips keep their small, patient rhythm, rocking the tip against that spot, and his hand stays pressed to Katsuki’s belly, warm and heavy. “If I went all the way in right now, just pushed past it, just filled you up— would you let me?”
Katsuki’s whole body tightens, a full clench that grips Izuku from root to tip, and he feels himself come again, harder this time, a wet, pulsing release that soaks Izuku’s cock and drips down between his thighs, and his mouth opens against the pillow and nothing comes out, just breath, just heat, just the sound of someone whose body has answered a question his mouth refuses to.
Izuku shudders behind him, hips stuttering, and presses his face into the back of Katsuki’s neck. “Fuck. Fuck, you just— you came so hard—”
“Shut up,” Katsuki manages, wrecked, face buried, trembling from his thighs to his shoulders. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
Izuku’s hand stays on his belly. His cock stays inside, thick and pulsing, and he doesn’t push deeper, and he doesn’t pull out. He just holds there, mouth pressed to Katsuki’s skin, breathing hard, and Katsuki can feel him smiling against his neck.
“I didn’t even move,” Izuku whispers.
“I will kill you,” Katsuki says, into the pillow, with no conviction whatsoever.
Izuku kisses his shoulder and squeezes his chest and stays exactly where he is, warm and thick and patient, and lets the silence fill with the sound of both of them breathing and the slow, slick evidence of everything Katsuki won’t say out loud.
Izuku holds still for a long moment, cock pulsing inside him, and then rocks his hips forward by a fraction.
Katsuki feels it everywhere. The head shifts maybe half an inch deeper, pressing against the swollen front wall, and his cunt grips down around it in a slow, rolling clench that starts at the rim and travels inward, squeezing along the thick shaft in a wave he has no say in. His ass pushes back into Izuku’s hips before he registers the movement, the soft give of it pressing flush against Izuku’s pelvis, and Izuku exhales hard through his nose.
“There you go,” Izuku murmurs, and his hand slides down to Katsuki’s hip, thumb settling into the groove above the bone, holding him in place.
Katsuki’s mouth opens against the pillow. Nothing comes out. His inner walls flutter around the width of him, twitching in quick, uneven contractions that he can feel Izuku feeling, because Izuku’s breath changes every time it happens, going shorter, tighter.
“You keep doing that,” Izuku says, voice strained, “and I’m going to lose it.”
“Doing what,” Katsuki grits, though he knows exactly what, can feel his own body working around Izuku’s cock in small, greedy pulses he can’t stop.
“Squeezing.” Izuku’s thumb presses harder into his hip. “Right at the tip. Every time I move even a little, you clench down like you’re trying to keep me there.”
“I’m not trying to— it’s involuntary—”
Izuku pulls back. Just the smallest withdrawal, the ridge of his cockhead dragging against Katsuki’s inner walls on the way out, catching on the rim where the muscle grips tightest, and Katsuki shudders, a full-body tremor that starts in his thighs and rolls up through his spine and out through his shoulders, his ass clenching around the shaft, the soft flesh of it bouncing once against Izuku’s hips when the drag reverses and Izuku pushes back in.
The push is abrupt. Deeper than before, sinking past the first inch and into the second, and Katsuki’s whole body jolts forward, his ass rippling with the impact, the sound of it wet and soft in the quiet room. His cunt stretches wide around the thicker part of the shaft and clamps down hard, the walls gripping in a spasm that makes both of them groan.
“Fuck—” Katsuki gasps, his hand flying back to grab Izuku’s thigh, fingers digging into muscle. “Warn me—”
“You took it,” Izuku says, breathless, his hand smoothing over Katsuki’s hip to his ass, palm pressing against the curve of it, feeling the tremor running through the muscle. “You took all of that.”
“Because you shoved it in—”
“I barely moved.” Izuku squeezes his ass, thumb dragging along the crease where it meets his thigh, and Katsuki feels his cunt flutter at the touch, a sympathetic clench that tightens him around the shaft. “Your body did the rest. You pulled me in.”
Katsuki buries his face in the pillow, breathing hard, his inner walls rippling in slow contractions around the girth stretching him open. He can feel every inch that’s inside him, the heat of it, the weight, the way the head presses up against the spot that makes his thighs shake, and every time Izuku so much as breathes, the shift in pressure sends another tremor through him.
Izuku waits. Holds there, buried to the second inch, one hand on Katsuki’s hip, the other resting warm against his lower back. Katsuki can feel his restraint in the tension of his thighs against the backs of his own, the rigid stillness of his hips, the way his cock twitches inside him without his permission.
Then Izuku rolls his hips. Slow, controlled, grinding the head in a tight circle against the front wall, and Katsuki’s insides melt around it. The clench loosens into something softer, wetter, his walls easing apart to accommodate the movement and then squeezing back down when it stops, like his body is trying to memorize the shape of him.
“Oh,” Katsuki says, very quietly, into the pillow.
“Yeah?” Izuku’s voice is low and careful.
“Don’t— don’t make it a thing—”
“I’m not making it a thing.” Izuku circles again, the same slow grind, and Katsuki’s hips push back to meet it, his ass pressing into Izuku’s lap, the soft weight of it settling against him. “You just sounded like you liked that.”
“I didn’t sound like anything.”
“You sounded like you wanted more.”
Katsuki’s cunt squeezes so hard around him that Izuku’s breath punches out, a low, guttural sound against the back of Katsuki’s neck. Slick leaks out around the shaft, warm and thick, running down to where their bodies meet and pooling in the crease of Katsuki’s thigh.
“That,” Izuku manages, “was not involuntary.”
“It was absolutely involuntary.”
“You squeezed me like a fist.”
“My body doesn’t consult me on these things.”
Izuku laughs, a shaky sound that vibrates through Katsuki’s back, and then pulls out an inch and pushes back in with a snap of his hips, sharp and sudden. Katsuki’s whole body lurches forward, his ass bouncing against Izuku’s pelvis with a wet slap, and the sound that tears out of him is high and startled and entirely beyond his control. His walls clamp down around the shaft on impact, a reflex so tight it borders on painful, and Izuku holds there, buried deep, grinding through the clench.
“Warn— me—” Katsuki chokes, his thighs shaking, his hands fisting the sheets. His cunt pulses around Izuku in rapid, fluttering spasms, each one squeezing the shaft and then releasing, squeezing and releasing, and he can feel himself getting wetter with each one, slick coating Izuku’s cock, dripping down.
“You’re coming,” Izuku says, wonder in his voice.
“I’m not— that’s not— it’s just—”
“Kacchan, you’re coming right now. I can feel it.” Izuku’s hand slides around to press flat against his lower belly, and the pressure from outside pushes the cock tighter against his front wall, and Katsuki’s back arches hard, a broken moan spilling out of him as his cunt clenches in one long, sustained squeeze that milks along Izuku’s length.
“I barely even thrust,” Izuku whispers, awed, pressing his mouth to the knob of Katsuki’s spine. “One thrust and you’re—”
“Shut up,” Katsuki says, voice destroyed, trembling through the aftershocks, his walls still fluttering weakly around the cock inside him. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
Izuku holds perfectly still, letting him ride it out, and presses kisses down the back of his neck, one after another, slow and warm, while Katsuki shakes apart around him and tries very hard to pretend he isn’t.
Katsuki buries his face deeper into the mattress, red all the way down to his chest, and shoves at Izuku’s thigh with the side of his fist. The motion is more insult than threat, but his whole body is flushed with a feverish heat that won’t quit, Izuku’s cock still nestled just inside him like it belongs there.
His cunt flutters again, involuntary, slick dripping down his thigh where it spills around the fat head still stretching him open. Izuku hasn’t pushed in any further, and the weight of that pressure is infuriating, how full Katsuki feels with just the tip inside, how it aches in a way that swallows everything else.
“Get your horny ass away from me,” Katsuki hisses, pushing at him again, both hands against the hard meat of Izuku’s thigh. “I swear to fucking god, I’ll break your nose.”
Izuku doesn’t budge. He lets out a shaky exhale against the back of Katsuki’s neck, lips brushing sweat-slick skin, and Katsuki feels it land on every nerve he has left.
“I’m trying,” Izuku mumbles, voice too warm, too breathless. “But you keep squeezing me like that, Kacchan. I can’t think.”
Katsuki snarls through his teeth and shoves again, his palms slipping against Izuku’s skin from the sweat clinging between them. “You’re not thinking, you’re fantasizing about knocking me up—”
Izuku groans, deep in his chest. “You said it first.”
“That was not an invitation, dumbass—!”
“You said womb.”
Katsuki bites down hard on his bottom lip to stop the noise that wants to claw its way out of his throat. Izuku’s hands are still on him, one braced firm at his waist, the other trailing over his stomach like it’s second nature, like it’s his. The weight of it sits just above the pressure inside, grounding, claiming, coaxing more heat from the place Katsuki is trying not to focus on.
Izuku presses his palm more firmly against Katsuki’s lower belly.
“You’d feel it here, wouldn’t you,” he says, soft, thumb tracing a circle against the skin. “If I went deeper.”
“You won’t,” Katsuki snaps, even as his thighs tremble harder. “I told you—”
“I won’t,” Izuku agrees, and there is real restraint in his voice, but it’s shaking now. “I won’t. I just— God, I can’t stop thinking about it. You, soft, round, all warm for me—”
Katsuki’s cunt clenches around the tip so hard that Izuku’s sentence dissolves into a groan, and Katsuki feels slick pulse out of him, warm and thick, soaking the shaft.
“See,” Izuku breathes, “you keep— you keep doing that when I talk about it—”
“I’m not doing anything, my body is broken and it’s your fault—”
“Your body likes the idea.”
“My body doesn’t have ideas, it has reflexes, and you need to shut up before I—”
Izuku rocks his hips forward, just enough to grind the head against that swollen spot, and Katsuki’s threat disintegrates into a sharp, bitten-off moan. His ass pushes back into Izuku’s lap, the soft weight of it pressing flush, and Izuku’s hand tightens on his belly.
“Kacchan,” Izuku whispers, awed. “You just got wetter.”
“I will end you.”
“You got wetter from me talking about it. I can feel it running down my—”
“Izuku, I am begging you to shut your mouth—”
“You’re begging?” Izuku’s voice cracks with something between laughter and desperation. “That’s new.”
Katsuki turns his head and slams his fist into the mattress. “Get. Off.”
“No,” Izuku says, low and thick, voice barely more than a growl. “Not until you stop feeling this good.”
“Fucking pervert,” Katsuki mutters, but his voice is falling apart now, half buried under breath. He squirms, and it’s the kind of shift that pushes him back just a little more, pulls Izuku’s cock against him just right, and he curses and drops his head in defeat.
Izuku kisses the side of his neck, soft and patient, even as his cock throbs inside.
Katsuki doesn’t push him again. His hands are still there, on Izuku’s thighs, fingers curled into muscle like he needs something to hold onto, even if it’s the same thing he said he wanted to shove away.
He breathes out, ragged.
“Kacchan, I’ll go faster, okay?”
Izuku says it in a rush, breathless and too eager, the words tumbling out without thought, without warning. He’s already moving before they land.
Katsuki’s whole body jerks.
He’s still trying to process what was said when Izuku pulls his hips back just enough to slip out a fraction, the head of his cock dragging against swollen, overstimulated walls, and then pushes back in.
The pressure ramps from dull ache to blinding stretch in a heartbeat, his cock pushing deeper than before, dragging over every too-sensitive spot inside Katsuki, and Katsuki cries out, sharp and hoarse, the sound caught somewhere between fury and shock.
“What the fuck— Izuku—!”
His voice splinters, cut off by the way his cunt clamps down, the ache flaring up as his thighs kick beneath the hold of Izuku’s hips. Izuku’s body stays wrapped around him, broad and heavy, one arm banded across his waist, the other sliding beneath to grab his chest again, palming it like it might keep Katsuki grounded.
“Wait— wait, fuck, slow down—”
Izuku’s hips are already rolling. Slow, steady thrusts that press a little deeper every time, his breath ragged against Katsuki’s shoulder, mouth open, muttering something that doesn’t sound like words anymore.
Katsuki’s arms tremble where they’re braced against the mattress. Every time Izuku slides out, Katsuki thinks he’ll stop, and every time he pushes back in, deeper, slower, grinding against the soreness, Katsuki chokes on a sound that isn’t refusal but should be.
“You— fucking— said—” Katsuki grits out, teeth bared, his voice torn apart by a moan as Izuku shifts the angle just slightly, pressing the head of his cock flush against that soft, aching place inside him. His back arches, breath punched out of his chest. “Fuck— you said you’d be careful—”
“I am,” Izuku pants. “I just— God, you feel so good— I had to move—”
“You didn’t have to—”
Izuku groans behind him, voice cracked and low. “I’m going slow— I swear I am— I’m just deeper now, you’re letting me—”
“I’m not letting you—!”
“You’re not stopping me either.”
Katsuki screams into the pillow, fists curling into the sheets as his body clenches hard again, cunt pulsing around the slow, thick drag. His thighs twitch, and still Izuku doesn’t break rhythm. The tension builds slow and steady, pressure growing behind Katsuki’s ribs, down through his belly, heat spiraling out from where they’re joined.
His voice is nearly gone now, panting so hard his chest stutters with every breath.
“Too much,” he gasps, eyes squeezed shut. “I told you it was too much—”
Izuku’s hand slides down, palm flattening over Katsuki’s lower belly, just above where his cock sits deep inside. “But you’re taking it,” he murmurs, lost in it. “So warm. So tight. So deep. You’re holding me.”
“Get out,” Katsuki growls, breathless, even as his hips push back, barely, his body betraying him with the tiniest roll that earns another groan from Izuku.
“Can’t,” Izuku whispers. “You’re mine, Kacchan. I’m not going anywhere.”
He thrusts in again, slow, full, deep enough to make Katsuki’s eyes roll back as the drag pushes against the spot that makes his thighs lock and his cunt gush around him. A choked sob breaks free from Katsuki’s mouth as he crumples forward onto the mattress, trembling hard, every part of him on fire and wrung out.
“Fuck— fuck— Izuku—”
Izuku groans, thrusting shallow now, his pace finally slowing, dragging out the last motion like it hurts to stop. His cock twitches deep inside, and Katsuki can feel every pulse of it buried against that place he hates to love, can feel the sweat and slick between them, can feel the weight of Izuku’s body pinning him in place.
Katsuki can’t speak, can barely breathe, but his hips haven’t moved, and Izuku hasn’t pulled out.
Izuku groans against the back of Katsuki’s neck, his breath hot and ragged, chest heaving. Every muscle in his body is tight, arms braced, jaw clenched, hips trembling from the sheer restraint of staying shallow. The slow grind of his cock inside Katsuki is steady, and slick spills out around the thick base with every stroke, soaking Katsuki’s thighs and sticking to Izuku’s lower belly, the sound wet in the quiet room.
Katsuki trembles beneath him, soaked and stretched, his face buried deep in the mattress, voice muffled, fists clenched around twisted sheets that offer no relief, no leverage. His body keeps opening around the slow push of Izuku’s cock, even though his breath catches with every inch, even though he keeps shaking his head, because the pressure is overwhelming.
Izuku slows again, cockhead dragging against the swollen ridge that makes Katsuki’s thighs jump. He lets out a guttural sound and dips his face into the curve of Katsuki’s shoulder, lips brushing skin that’s hot and slick with sweat.
“I want—” he pants, voice hoarse, “I want to feel all of you.”
Katsuki flinches. “You already are,” he bites out, but there’s no force behind the words.
“Not all,” Izuku whispers, and the tip nudges deeper again, barely a centimeter, enough to make Katsuki gasp and clutch at the sheets harder. “I haven’t— Kacchan, I haven’t gone all the way in.”
Katsuki makes a sound, half sob and half growl. “Don’t. I swear to god, Izuku, I can’t—”
“But you are,” Izuku breathes. “You’re taking me.”
His hips roll again, slower now, dragging out the motion with aching control. Katsuki doesn’t push him away. His body stutters beneath him, tense and trembling, but he doesn’t twist, doesn’t shove, and Izuku exhales and presses forward.
A slow, full push. Unbroken.
Katsuki’s breath catches hard in his throat and his entire body locks down, spine arching, thighs trembling, arms shaking where they’re braced against the mattress. The burn is immediate, deep, and the thick length of him drags over every inch of tight, sensitive flesh, wider and heavier the deeper he goes. Katsuki’s cunt clenches hard around it, trying to adjust, and there is nowhere to go. He’s already full, already stretched past what feels manageable, and Izuku keeps pushing until his hips slot flush against Katsuki’s ass, cock buried to the base.
A deep pressure settles low in Katsuki’s gut. His walls clench again, spasming around the girth locked inside, and his breath shudders out in a broken moan he doesn’t try to muffle.
“Fuck,” he gasps. “Fuck— you said you wouldn’t—”
“I’m sorry,” Izuku whispers, kissing the sweat at his nape. “I had to.”
Katsuki tries to speak again and all that comes out is a strangled noise, high and sharp, as his cunt clenches around the full length seated inside him. He can feel the shape of Izuku’s cock through the wall of his belly, a solid weight that sits deep, pressing against the softest parts of him.
Izuku’s hand slides down, slow, until his palm rests over Katsuki’s lower stomach. He presses, firm, and Katsuki nearly screams, the pressure from outside pushing down where the cock is seated so deep that every nerve fires at once.
“There,” Izuku breathes. “Right there. I can feel myself. You’re holding me so deep, Kacchan.”
“Get out,” Katsuki gasps, voice splintering, but his hips twitch back against Izuku’s all the same, his cunt pulsing around him, flushed and still fluttering, and the fullness is worse with Izuku sheathed all the way in, worse and better and unbearable, his body wound tight around the feeling of being filled.
Izuku groans and grips Katsuki’s waist with both hands, holding him close, not moving, breathing hard against his skin.
“I’m not moving,” he says, voice low. “Just let me feel this.”
Katsuki can’t answer. His head drops forward into the pillow, cheek pressed to damp cotton, lips parted, moaning through clenched teeth. He’s flushed and stretched and too full to think, and Izuku stays buried inside him, heavy and hot, and Katsuki keeps trembling around the place where they’re locked together.
“I just want to stay inside, Kacchan.”
Izuku’s voice is soft, too soft for what he’s asking, too tender for how deep he is, for the way his cock pulses in the deepest part of Katsuki’s cunt, pressing against walls that shouldn’t be touched, nudging that sore, trembling space just behind them.
His hands are steady. One wrapped around Katsuki’s waist, the other splayed low on his belly, right over where the head of his cock sits inside. Not moving. Not pulling out.
Katsuki’s stomach tightens under that hand.
“No,” he yells, voice tearing out of him before he can stop it, and his body jerks, hips trying to rise and scramble away, legs twitching with the effort. Izuku’s weight holds him, and Katsuki’s body is too slow, trembling and oversensitive and soaked, and he bucks again and goes nowhere, the stretch still anchored deep inside his cunt.
“No, get out— get out, I said—”
Izuku groans behind him, the sound low and wrecked, and he doesn’t thrust, doesn’t push. He stays there, seated inside.
“You’re warm,” he whispers, breath thick against the back of Katsuki’s neck. “You’re holding me so good.”
“I don’t care— get out of me—”
Katsuki slams a fist into the mattress, eyes stinging, and the sting is from the fullness of it, the intimacy, the way Izuku speaks like he’s grateful to be buried this deep while Katsuki squirms beneath him flushed and panting into the sheets.
Izuku’s hands soothe instead of release. One rubs circles over his belly, just above the swell where his cock fills every inch. The other slides up to Katsuki’s chest, palm warm, cupping him like he’s something meant to be held.
“You keep squeezing me,” he murmurs, almost shy. “Like your body doesn’t want me to leave.”
Katsuki groans, furious and humiliated and lit from the inside with the truth of it. His cunt is clenching around the cock inside him, tight and rhythmic, holding onto it, and his hips twitch again, grinding back before he can stop himself.
“Don’t say shit like that,” he gasps, face red, voice cracking. “I don’t want— fuck— I didn’t say—”
“I know,” Izuku says, softer, pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything.”
Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut, chest heaving. He’s still full, still twitching, still pulsing around Izuku, the heat of him steady, buried so deep Katsuki can feel it in his spine. A moan slips from his throat, unwilling.
“I just wanna stay inside you a little longer,” Izuku says, and the quiet of it, the honesty, makes Katsuki’s resistance stutter in his chest.
His fists unclench slowly against the sheets. His back settles under Izuku’s weight.
Then the panic arrives.
It climbs up through his belly and into his throat, fast, bypassing everything rational, and his hands claw at Izuku’s arm, fingers slipping because his palms are damp and shaking.
“Izuku, get out.” His voice cracks hard enough that it barely sounds like him. “What if it doesn’t— what if you fucked it up because you’re so big. What if it stays like this.”
The thought spirals, ugly and loud. His cunt clenches around Izuku without his permission, every muscle tightening with the panic, and that only makes it worse, the fullness intensifying, and he shakes his head against the mattress, eyes squeezed shut.
Izuku goes still behind him. The hunger drains out of his breathing in one long exhale, replaced by something careful.
“Kacchan,” he says, and his voice is different now, the want pulled back, concern flooding in underneath. He presses his mouth to Katsuki’s shoulder, then the side of his neck, slow and deliberate. “Hey. Look at me. You’re okay.”
“I’m not looking at you.” Katsuki’s breath comes in fast, rough bursts. His fingers twist in the sheets, elbows digging into the mattress. “Just get out. Please.”
Izuku shifts behind him, body rigid, cock still buried deep. He breathes like he’s trying to hold himself steady, shoulders tense, chest rising in uneven waves.
“Kacchan,” he says slowly, hand splayed over Katsuki’s hip. “You’re so tight right now. I can’t just pull out when you’re gripping me this hard. I need you to relax.”
Katsuki stiffens further, shoulders bunching, and his cunt clenches tighter on reflex, the fullness pulsing, and Izuku groans behind him, strained.
“Don’t— just try,” Katsuki growls, trying to lift his hips despite the tremble in his thighs. The smallest movement has him gasping, cunt squeezing down again, trapping Izuku right where he is.
“I am trying,” Izuku breathes. “You have to loosen up. I can’t move until you do.”
Katsuki presses his forehead into the pillow, a sound leaving him that splits between a sob and a snarl. “I can’t,” he says, and his hips shake, breath hitching hard. “Just get out.”
Izuku’s hand finds his, the one fisted in the sheets, and covers it. His fingers press between Katsuki’s, slow, easing the grip open, and he breathes against the back of Katsuki’s neck, long and steady, the kind of breath meant to be followed.
“Breathe with me,” Izuku says, quiet. “Just breathe. Your body knows how to do this. You just have to let it.”
Katsuki’s jaw clenches. His eyes sting. His whole body is wound so tight around Izuku that he can feel his own pulse in the walls of his cunt, can feel Izuku’s pulse answering it, the two of them locked together by nothing more than the panic he can’t unclench.
He breathes in, ragged, and Izuku breathes with him, chest expanding against Katsuki’s back, and on the exhale Katsuki feels the first thread of tension loosen, deep inside, a single fiber of muscle letting go.
“There you go,” Izuku murmurs, and presses his lips to the knob of Katsuki’s spine. “There. Just like that. I’m right here.”