Work Text:
Truth be told, Katsuki barely remembers anything of the day he died.
He remembers flashes of his own explosions, the brief moments of calm he felt before his heart gave out, Izuku’s voice and pain. So much of it. He remembers feeling afraid, more afraid than he’s ever felt. But that’s about it.
He barely remembers defeating All For One, which to be put plainly, sucks ass because despite the fear and pain he’d felt while fighting the pseudo-Shigaraki, that had been a good time. That much is obvious from the video footage he watched when he was still hospitalized all those years ago, watching his own manic grin as he hunted the bastard down like it was just a game to him.
The funny thing about dying is that your memories become fractured and scattered into deep parts of your soul, and sometimes, those pieces return with time. Most commonly with new trauma. That’s exactly what happens to Katsuki in his mid-twenties when what should have been a routine night patrol turns into a fucking catastrophe, all too fast.
In one moment, he’s blasting off a powerful attack into what looks to be a humongous tentacle-like quirk user and in the next, one of the tentacles is gripping him around the neck, squeezing. Katsuki’s hands fly to his own neck before he even registers it and he fires off a large explosion to the tendrils squeezing the life out of him but for some reason, it just doesn’t work. Must be the slime the thing has totally coated itself in, or maybe it’s the fact that Katsuki is now covered in it. Whatever it is, the fact is that the tendril isn’t moving from where it’s still wrapped all too tightly around Katsuki’s neck. And as he fires out another set of explosions that don’t seem to matter to the thing at all, when his fingernails dig so deep into the muscle that’s squeezing around his airways, when his feet kick in the air uselessly from where he’s being held in the air by the neck, Katsuki remembers.
He remembers how it felt to be held up in the air by Shigaraki, how it felt to know that at any second, his neck could be snapped underneath the overwhelming strength of Shigaraki’s hold. He remembers how it felt to dig his fingers bloody with one hand only as his other one lay uselessly by the side, barely twitching. He remembers how it felt to hear Shigaraki tell him that he’s nothing, that no matter how hard he works, he will never amount to anything, speaking out Katsuki’s biggest deep-rooted insecurities he was barely even able to be aware about himself at the time, since he was only seventeen. He remembers how it felt to hear those words being said as he gasped for air, uselessly, how it felt to try to intake desperate breaths his lungs couldn’t make space for anyway.
Even more, he remembers the sludge villain and how it started to crawl inside of him, trying to use his body as a meat puppet to possess. How it tried to suffocate him from the inside, take away his soul and replace it with its own. That time too, Katsuki couldn’t do anything but struggle uselessly as his breath was slowly stolen away, the world losing focus in the corners of his eyelids, the light slowly dimming.
This time, it’s no different. Katsuki struggles against the grip around his throat that keeps tightening by the second. His explosions slowly start to lose their velocity, reduced to nothing but sparks. His fingers slowly loosen their death grip on the flesh holding him up, his muscles spasming until they give way completely. The same is with his legs; he kicks in the air until he can’t anymore, until his muscles merely tremble and then go lax. One minute he’s fighting and burning bright and true and in the next he’s flickering out. It happens so fast that Katsuki barely has any time to process the situation besides feeling utter fear and desperation. But then, those feelings flicker out too as his body shuts down completely, not even registering Izuku screaming his name.
When Katsuki wakes again, he’s very obviously at the hospital. If the fact that he’s utterly confused, groggy and in pain are anything to go by, it’s him that’s hospitalized this time, not Izuku. That’s strange, because while Katsuki definitely isn’t any stranger to a hospital, he has grown more used to being the one waiting in the chair by the hospital bed than to be the one in it. That was usually Izuku’s job, something that Katsuki swore was doomed to give him grey hair before he even turns thirty, something the two of them always came back to fighting about and then fucking it out, never really solving the problem that was Izuku’s recklessness when it came to his life.
Katsuki wasn’t like that. Especially not since he had met death face to face all those years ago, and sank into its embrace that was neither warm nor cold and allowed no pain, no regret, no resolution, not anything but itself as a substance, nothing but itself in its self-defining and self-sustaining finality before he managed to crawl out of his own grave despite all that.
There’s something about knowing how it feels for your heart to stop beating, something about remembering that last few moments of liquid gold when everything you ever were and ever hoped to be crystallises into one final performance, that makes you a different person. Katsuki knows it’s hard to notice. After all, he has never been as reckless as Izuku. He took calculated risks but never dove headfirst into danger if it wasn’t necessary. And now? Now even more so. Because Katsuki will never get to forget the way his mom looked at him when he first woke up after his second open heart surgery. He will never forget the way the entire class hovered around him and watched him with eyes wide when they thought he wasn’t looking in the months after. And most of all, Katsuki will always live with the reminder of what his almost-complete-point-of-no-return, total-final-destination-for-real-this-time did to Izuku.
It gave Izuku panic attacks so severe Katsuki genuinely thought he was having a heart attack the first time it happened. He fell into dissociative episodes so profound, Katsuki once had to drive him to the hospital because Izuku just couldn’t snap out of it and was effectively catatonic for almost a day. Izuku woke up screaming from nightmares so bad he had to start taking antipsychotics that made him feel like there were maggots crawling underneath his skin in hopes he’d get some sleep.
And that’s why Katsuki tries to be careful. Really careful. He is a hero but being a good hero also meant coming home safe so you can save more people the day after. If you die saving one person, how many people are going to be left out hurt and abandoned while you’re gone? And most of all, Katsuki has someone to come home to. He has a person he cares about so utterly and so pathetically that if he were to lose him, his already patchworked heart would be impossible to put together again, no matter how well you’d angle the shreds.
And it’s because of that carefully built and maintained carefulness Katsuki has put so much effort into that when his gaze finds the green bloodshot eyes almost bulging out of the head of the love of his life that something too close to Katsuki’s heart squeezes tight.
Izuku is sitting by his bed and when he realizes Katsuki’s looking at him and awake, tears immediately make it past his eyes. Katsuki had grown used to Izuku crying in the many years of knowing him. He remembers how Izuku had cried when his plant died when he was four and Izuku crying while they watched that dumb romcom just last week. Katsuki remembers Izuku crying when they graduated, and when they got drunk on the roof of their dorm building that one time, and when they first had sex, when Izuku really wanted to be proper or whatever in the hell and kept the push and pull of his hip slow until Katsuki outright had to kick him to make it faster and harder like he needed it. He remembers how much Izuku cried when Katsuki gave him the reins and let Izuku do whatever he wanted to him, because it was exactly what Izuku needed all too desperately despite never knowing it.
That’s exactly why this is bad: because Katsuki is used to seeing Izuku break down because his heart is too big for his chest and he has made sure not to give him any reason to make him upset. And he failed this time.
Katsuki opens his mouth to try and speak but it’s no use. All that comes out of his throat is something between a broken whine and a groan of pain, which really isn’t ideal.
“Don’t talk Kacchan,” Izuku whispers then. “Your neck is swollen. You’ll only hurt yourself more. Just rest, okay?”
Oh. Of course. Katsuki almost forgot that he almost got choked to death. Oops.
“… how bad?” Katsuki manages to rasp out.
Izuku squeezes his eyes shut like it physically hurts him to remember. It probably does.
“When I took the villain down you were already unconscious,” Izuku mutters. “Your airway was really swollen – God – you couldn’t breathe right even when it already let you go. A healer was on standby and managed to lift it enough so that you could breathe but... I was almost too late, Kacchan. Again.” Izuku takes a breath. It shudders. “I - “
“Izuku,” Katsuki murmurs. “Shuddup.”
Izuku shakes his head. “You don’t get it Kacchan. You were so pale and your lips were turning blue – “
“Izuku,” Katsuki repeats. His voice is sterner now. “Stop. Look at me.”
To that, Izuku lifts his head from where he’s been looking at the ground as Katsuki’s fingers wrap around his wrist, anchoring him.
“I’m good. Betcha I’ll be released soon, right?” Katsuki insists, voice still raspy.
Izuku hesitates before replying. “They said they’ll keep you here overnight, at least. For your oxygen levels to fully normalize. But that’s not the point Kacchan. You almost – “
“Don’t,” Katsuki grumbles. “Finish that sentence. ‘m fine, yeah?”
Katsuki is bad at reassurances. Or at least, he used to be bad at them until he learned that explaining to Izuku exactly how things were, rationally and calmly, was something desperately needed to help pull Izuku from that goddamned hole of anxiety. And so, Katsuki tried. And he learned.
“You were there; you did everything right,” Katsuki murmurs, throat still sore. “And you saved me. ‘s all good. Okay?”
The last part used to be hard for Katsuki to say. His gruff, rough-around-the-edges nature coupled with what used to be a deeply hidden insecurity of never needing anyone but himself made it hard for him to lean into the fact that sometimes, he needed to be saved too. And the funny thing is that over the years he’s spent with Izuku right by his side, leaning on him has begun to become automatic, more and more. Slowly and piece by piece, but it did. Turns out that even someone like Katsuki who has always thought himself to be too locked into himself to open himself to someone like that, could accept gentleness and belonging.
As night slowly bleeds to day, Izuku calms down. His hand relaxes against Katsuki’s fingers, gently entangling them instead. And as Katsuki slowly drifts off to sleep under the haze of pain medication, Izuku’s rough, scarred fingers running though his hair, he ignores something brewing deep down.
On the first day after his release from the hospital, Katsuki wakes up to an empty bed. His arm automatically extends over the other side of it as he slowly wakes up, subconsciously searching for Izuku. Instead, what greets him are empty, yet still warm sheets. There’s a note on the bedside table, written in unmistakably Izuku’s handwriting.
Good morning Kacchan! I’m already off to patrol and you were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t want to wake you. You need all the rest you can get after all. There’s tea for you in the kitchen and breakfast in the fridge. Please rest! And don’t forget to take your meds! I love you <3 xxx
A smile tugs on the corners of Katsuki’s lips upon reading the note. Sure, being on mandatory one week leave after being almost fucking killed is annoying. Still, there is something in the way in which Izuku cares for him that makes his heart flip, no matter how long they’ve been together.
Slowly, Katsuki untangles himself from the sheets, makes the bed and heads for their shared kitchen. As promised, Katsuki’s favourite tea is waiting for him on the table, still warm. Izuku must have left not long ago then. There’s a bracket of his pain medication by the cup of tea, another note beside it.
‘Don’t take them on an empty stomach! Love you!’ it reads.
Katsuki rolls his eyes in affection, not annoyance. Because yeah, his throat and neck are almost healed, but they still do hurt. And in the end, Katsuki wants to return to work as soon as possible and if that includes following the doctor’s orders then so be it.
Katsuki eats breakfast Izuku has prepared for him, once again noticing how much his cooking has improved in the last few years. Izuku used to be a danger to the kitchen in high school, but now he has pretty much perfected all the food that Katsuki likes. After drinking his tea and taking the medication, Katsuki heads back to bed. He knows the meds are going to knock him out whether he wants it or not.
When Katsuki wakes up an uncounted time later, still in the haze of the medication, there are remains of a dream playing on repeat in his mind.
In the dream, there are hands wrapping around his neck, slowly, fingers laying over the skin of his throat one by one. Then, they squeeze. Softly at first and then harder. Then, they tighten to the point where Katsuki can feel his breathing obstruct, can feel a tingling sensation in his limbs and sees stars dancing across his vision as it slowly darkens until he can feel nothing but strong hands around his throat, squeezing.
And maybe it should have been one of those PTSD dreams he gets occasionally, as does Izuku. By all logic it should have been that, it should have had Katsuki in his mercy as he wakes up panting, panicked, cold shivers running across his entire body.
But this time, that doesn’t happen. Instead, Katsuki wakes up to find his cock painfully hard.
His first reaction to it is confusion. Because why the fuck is he waking up from what is supposed to be a trauma induced nightmare with his cock not only hard but fucking leaking?
Almost instinctively, Katsuki reaches down into his sweatpants, pulling out his painfully hard cock. Izuku is only coming home in the late evening today and Katsuki is bored, plus he hasn’t properly gotten off or had sex since before he landed himself in the hospital. So, Katsuki spreads the precum over his cock and starts stroking himself, slowly at first and then faster.
The dream-induced images of hands wrapping around his neck creep back into his mind as he strokes his cock faster in desperation, knowing that there seems to be something missing. There’s an itch in the depths of Katsuki’s mind and soul that needs to be scratched, but he tries to ignore it, suppress it.
After all, he has never needed a hand around his throat to cum before.
But for some reason, it feels like he does need it now. Katsuki’s brow furrows as he quickens the pace of his hand, his teeth digging into his lower lip in exertion. Why can’t he cum? The images of hands around his throat are there and impossible to be put away, but why isn’t it enough? Why does he feel the need to reach up and wrap his hand around his throat and squeeze?
‘Fuck it, it’s only going to be this one time anyway.’
Katsuki follows his instinct and reaches up, putting his own fingers over his throat. Almost instantly, his breathing hitches and a desperate moan escapes him. And when he presses down, just tightly curling his fingers around the sides of his neck, not even pressing down hard enough to actually restrict blood flow, his vision instantly whites out. An intense orgasm rocks Katsuki’s body as he paints his stomach with cum, his back arching slightly off the bed and toes curling against the sheets, a desperate moan leaving his lips even if he tries to suppress it, his own hand still resting against his throat.
As Katsuki comes back to himself, breathing heavily, he slowly withdraws his hand from his neck, feeling as if possessed by something otherworldly.
“Fucking weird,” Katsuki mutters to himself, still panting.
Because it is weird. Katsuki has never craved to be choked in bed, not really, and definitely hasn’t needed it to cum. Still, it’s probably just a coincidence. The recent injury and the fact that he’s kind of high on the pain meds must have something to do with it, surely. It’s nothing that will repeat, so Katsuki concludes that it’s whatever.
It turns out not to be whatever.
In the following days, Katsuki finds himself unable to cum while jerking off, if he doesn’t wrap his hands around his neck. More and more, Katsuki feels the need to be choked even while having sex with Izuku but because he’s so goddamn confused abut what the fuck is actually going on with him, he’s too nervous to bring it up. Izuku is still more than able to make him come, that’s for sure – not cumming when Izuku’s bigass fucking dick repeatedly nails his prostate head-on is damn near biologically impossible – but the sex does feel less fulfilling than it usually does. That alone makes Katsuki feel guilty, because he loved having sex with Izuku and the fact that he isn’t capable of enjoying it as much as he usually does is fucking annoying to say the least.
The worst thing about it is that the fucking nerd notices it as well and gets worried that he’s doing something wrong. Instead of telling him the truth, Katsuki just says that it’s because of the pain meds which Izuku reluctantly accepts. But it hurts, because Katsuki knows it has nothing to do with pain meds.
He even checks. Decreased libido is not written down as one of the side effects of the medication.Neither is an unusual craving for being choked while getting off. So, it’s not the meds then, meaning it must be something else.
Katsuki goes as far as having all the files on the villain that tried to strangle him to death sent over to the apartment while he’s still on leave. He just has to check that the villain’s stupid tentacle quirk doesn’t posses a side effect like inducing a fucking fetish for being choked out in his victims. Of course, that’s not on the files, making Katsuki hurl the papers across his and Izuku’s living room in anger. Somehow, his own investigation has ruled out all suspects except one, leaving him with only one explanation for The Issue: it’s Katsuki himself.
The worst thing about it is that as well as being frustrated, he seems to lose most of the self-control he usually possesses. He can’t stop thinking about those hands wrapping around his throat, squeezing softly and then harder. When he and Izuku are eating dinner together Katsuki finds himself lost in thought, staring at his boyfriend’s hands as Izuku mutters on and on about his day. And it’s not that Katsuki doesn’t like listening to Izuku talk – he unfortunately absolutely adores it – but more often than not, he finds himself staring into those big hands. Izuku’s hands really are massive. While Katsuki has long fingers but not particularly big palms, Izuku has both. More than that, his fingers are thick (Katsuki would know, trust him), scarred-up, rough and more than anything, so fucking strong. Despite the fact that Katsuki isn’t a small man himself, he can’t help but wonder if Izuku could wrap a single hand around Katsuki’s entire throat –
“Kacchan? Are you okay?” Izuku says, worried, snapping Katsuki out of his thoughts.
Katsuki shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry. Spaced out for some reason,” he mumbles, feeling a blush spreading to his ears, making them red.
Izuku’s eyebrows furrow in concern. “Are you sure? You look – “
“I’m fine nerd,” Katsuki grumbles, praying to God that the blush from his ears doesn’t spread to his cheeks. “What were you saying?”
Katsuki needs to turn the conversation away from how flustered he is, fast. Because really, there is no reason for him to be blushing like a teenager about to ask someone out on a date for the first time. He’s twenty-five years old for god’s sake and he’s been with Izuku for goddamn years. Moreover, neither one of them is anything close to sexually inexperienced, not in the slightest. The thing is that they aren’t exactly vanilla. Katsuki doesn’t want to know what his friends got up to in their bedrooms – he really, really doesn’t wanna know – so he doesn’t really have the scale to compare what he and Izuku get up to. But still, they definitely aren’t vanilla.
Izuku? Definitely a freak in bed. Katsuki is still somewhat disappointed in himself that he ever expected anything different, after all Izuku does tend to wear his heart on his sleeve. Time after time Katsuki’s seen him lose control of blackwhip, the literal physical manifestation of Izuku’s love for him. Katsuki should have taken it for what it was back then, because to feel Izuku’s love is to be consumed. To have Izuku love you is to be deconstructed and slowly rebuilt together, piece by piece. Izuku is a pleaser through and through, but when he realized Katsuki liked it rough too? He took what he wanted.
Because yeah, Katsuki likes to be held down and roughed up. He loves getting pounded hard from behind, Izuku keeping him quiet with the palm of his hand, rough fingers digging into Katsuki’s skin, almost to the point of squishing his cheeks together. He likes it when Izuku pushes his face into the pillow to muffle his moans. He likes it when Izuku has him stick out his tongue so he can spit on it and have Katsuki swallow his spit along with his cum. He loves it when Izuku ties his wrists to the headboard and makes Katsuki orgasm with his cock alone.
Katsuki loves it when Izuku ties his hands behind his back and just uses him, no matter how sensitive and overstimulated Katsuki’s hole already is. Izuku likes to spank him till he’s sobbing into the pillow and the skin turns red. Whenever Katsuki intentionally provokes him enough, Izuku strips him naked, ties him up, takes the leather belt off his waist and spanks Katsuki with it until he forms bruises that make Katsuki sore for days after. Izuku loves marking him too – he’s possessive like that – and Katsuki relishes in it. He revels in the fast thrusts of Izuku’s hips and the way his big hands dig into the meat of Katsuki’s hips to the point of bruising. He loves the way Izuku marks his neck in blues and purples to the point where Katsuki has to wear his winter uniform even on hotter days and he adores the way Izuku fucks him fast and rough while he tells him Katsuki belongs to him and to him only.
So, yeah. Katsuki is definitely a freak, but Izuku is probably even more so. That’s exactly why Katsuki can’t fully comprehend why he feels nervous about this. They’ve been together since high school, Izuku has probably eaten him out more times than he has watched that goddamned All Might video and Katsuki’s sucked that dick more times than he’d wanted to beat the shit out of Monoma, so you could say they know each other well. Introducing a kink into their sex life isn’t exactly something scandalous. So why does Katsuki feel this way?
He knows. He knows but admitting it is too hard. Katsuki puts the thought in his ‘do not even fucking think about thinking about it’ box in his mind and tries to forget about it.
As the days pass and Katsuki nears the end of his mandatory leave, The Issue doesn’t resolve itself. It actually somehow manages to get worse.
Katsuki should have known that hiding things from Izuku is a stupid idea.
Mostly because it’s borderline impossible to hide things from someone who’s spent their entire life with their eyes fixed onto you, memorizing every trace you leave in the world, crowning you their sole object of desire and want.
Unfortunately, the realization only hits Katsuki when Izuku stands frozen in the doorway to their bedroom, mouth hanging comically agape as he watches Katsuki cum all over himself with his own hand wrapped tight around his throat.
It doesn’t help that the orgasm - for no particular reason whatsoever - decides to overcome Katsuki right as Izuku comes in, presumably having left work early for some goddamn reason that totally isn’t fate-like.
And as Katsuki comes down from the intensity of the orgasm, absolutely fucking horrified, Izuku’s eyes suddenly glitter in something like awe, his mouth pulling over his teeth in a grin.
Really, Katsuki should have known.
Izuku sits on his heels, holding Katsuki’s face between his hands. He’s studying his features with unbearable concentration, noting the way Katsuki’s cheeks are already flushed. Slowly Izuku drags his thumb over Katsuki’s throat, encircling his Adam’s apple and pressing down only slightly on his jugular vein just underneath his chin. Katsuki mewls at the minimal contact, making Izuku smile as he traces his fingers upwards over his chin before settling his thumb on Katsuki’s lower lip, pulling it down. As if on call, Katsuki kneels in between Izuku’s thighs, completely still, waiting to take whatever Izuku decides to give him.
Izuku slides the pad of his thumb over Katsuki’s bottom lip once, then twice – and then his middle finger is slipping in, prying his mouth open. Katsuki moans and like clockwork, instantly and instinctively – hollows his cheeks around the thick, long fingers in his mouth, making Izuku’s grin stretch wider across his face. In no time Izuku is fucking his throat on his fingers, and all Katsuki can do is take it as Izuku prepares his mouth for his cock, relaxing his throat around the intrusion as he looks at Izuku with what he knows are full blown heart eyes.
As sudden as the intrusion was, as sudden is also its removal. Izuku withdraws his fingers from Katsuki’s throat, making the blonde moan at the loss. In reply, Izuku coos at him.
“Oh Kacchan,” he murmurs. “You want more, don’t you?”
Katsuki doesn’t reply in words; all he can do is nod, spit connecting his lips to Izuku’s fingers, a translucent line, weak and breakable, that holds Katsuki by the throat nonetheless.
“You’re so nice today,” Izuku smirks against his lips. “So good and pliant. You want it that bad, huh baby?”
Instinctively, Katsuki tries to reach for some of his signature attitude. Normally he is a brat – he knows it, everybody knows it. But Izuku is one of the rare, if not the only, person who actually adores Katsuki for his brattiness.
But today, he just can’t. And maybe Izuku is right. Maybe he wants what he wants so, so unbearably badly that he can't even act like himself. Katsuki’s confusion at his own behaviour doesn’t go unnoticed however because like with everything in life, Izuku is a researcher. And he happens to be specialized in everything about Katsuki, so of course he notices the small pout forming on Katsuki’s face before Katsuki even feels it himself.
“Don’t worry Kacchan,” Izuku whispers, placing a peck against his lips. “I love it. I love you.”
“Daddy likes it?” Katsuki asks before he is able to stop himself.
Izuku stills against him, but then quickly recovers. Katsuki can almost feel the blush of his cheeks burning on his face and when he manages to get his eyes to focus and zoom in on Izuku's green irises, he finds them almost completely swallowed up by black.
“Yeah baby,” Izuku murmurs against his lips. “Daddy loves it.”
Katsuki’s brain is already too mushy for him to fully register the way in which Izuku maneuvers him off the bed. Before Katsuki knows it, he finds himself on his knees in between Izuku’s strong thighs. He’s completely naked as Izuku is still dressed in his suit, pulling down the knot of his tie. He wore a black tie today, Katsuki notices. That’s unusual for Izuku, as he usually goes for green or red, or for any colour really; so, it’s strange to see him wearing a black tie. Maybe there’s a reason for it, Katsuki realizes. Maybe Izuku chose this colour because –
Between one moment and the next Izuku is putting the tie around Katsuki’s neck, tightening the knot around his throat. And yeah, now it makes sense. Izuku chose this colour specifically because this was the one he wanted to paint Katsuki in.
Without preamble, Izuku rolls the end of the tie around his fingers once, twice and then pulls. A startled breathy moan escapes Katsuki’s throat as he’s forcibly pulled forwards by the tie, his chin landing on the top of Izuku’s thigh, right above the obviously hard cock still behind his pants.
“You’re so beautiful Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs, running his fingers over Katsuki’s cheeks, pulling on his bottom lip. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” Katsuki nods, ignoring how it comes out less as a voice and more as a needy whimper. “Izuku, please – “
“Fuck,” Izuku curses, standing up to undo his belt and pulling down his pants and boxers in one go. “You drive me crazy, Kacchan.”
And then, Izuku is grabbing Katsuki by the forearms, pulling his mouth on his cock in one go. Katsuki’s eyes widen and he chokes. He’s still on his knees while Izuku is standing, fully hard and pulsing cock halfway down his throat and fuck Katsuki can already feel tears gathering in the corners of his eyelids.
Above him, Izuku bites into his lower lip in restraint.
“Thought we should make sure baby,” he moans, tightening his strong grip on Katsuki’s forearms. “I know you said you wanted me to choke you but… I should gag you too, right? You always love crying on my cock after all.”
As Izuku feels Katsuki’s throat relax around his length, he’s once again pulling on Katsuki’s forearms, making him swallow the entirety of his cock.
Katsuki can’t help it; the tears make their way past his eyelids, sliding down his cheeks, his eyes rolling in pleasure at Izuku fucking himself down his throat. They’ve never done it like that before; not with Izuku standing, pulling Katsuki onto his cock like a fuck-toy and Katsuki has no idea how the fuck they’ve never considered to do that before but fuck is he glad they’re doing it now because it scratches something inside his brain just right, setting every nerve in his body aflame.
He drifts away, somewhere safe and soft, keeping his throat relaxed and relishing in the way Izuku ravishes it. When Izuku pulls out of his mouth quickly and all at once, air rushes back into Katsuki’s brain with such intensity it makes him dizzy. And again, before he really knows what’s happening, Izuku is pulling him into a needy kiss, before throwing him onto the bed, front first.
“C’mon, knees up baby,” Izuku says, gentle voice enhanced by a sharp smack against Katsuki’s lower thigh.
Katsuki moans at the sharp sting, relishing in the way it hurts. He obeys instantly even when he would once ignore Izuku or try to piss him off. But it’s okay today. Katsuki knows that tonight, Izuku will give him everything he has ever unknowingly desired.
As Katsuki folds his knees underneath himself, Izuku kicks his thighs wider apart, making sure to present Katsuki’s hole. Lube is squeezed on it, if the sudden cold Katsuki feels is anything to go by, and then Izuku is pulling on the black tie still resting around Katsuki’s neck, pulling him into an arch, simultaneously bullying the first finger inside him.
Katsuki’s eyes roll back in pleasure. The sudden stimulation is almost too much to handle; between the stretch of Izuku’s fingers inside him, the way in which his throat feels rubbed raw in the best way, the slight pull from the obscene arch he’s been forced into by the pressure of the tie on the front of his neck, he feels so much it all melts into one thing, one eternity. And like that Katsuki can’t do anything but gasp for air and feel the pressure behind his eyelids.
“How many fingers was that Kacchan?”
“Mmh, two?”
“Wrong,” Izuku states, emphasising his words with a sharp slap against Katsuki’s left asscheek. “It was three,” he smirks against the nape of his neck.
Katsuki almost cries.
“Izuku please,” he whispers out, voice broken. “Please –“
“What do you want, baby?” Izuku says, playing pretend in confusion.
“You know – “
“Of course I know,” Izuku says, smiling. “I do wanna hear Kacchan say it though.”
As much as he can, Katsuki throws his head back in frustration.
“Fuck Izuku, just fucking do it – “
Another smack, much sharper this time, lands against Katsuki’s ass. Katsuki whimpers, his moan of pain instantly melting as Izuku runs his rough fingers gently over the reddening flesh, letting go of the tie and manhandling Katsuki onto his back.
“You were so nice earlier Kacchan,” Izuku coos at him, nibbling on Katsuki’s bottom lip, only pulling away when the blonde is already aching for the taste of iron in his mouth. “What happened to my good boy? Am I being too nice?”
Izuku delivers another sharp smack against Katsuki’s thigh, Izuku's gripping in one of his hands to the point of bruising. Then his hands drift, giving the same treatment to his right thigh and it burns so good tears make their way down Katsuki’s face once again.
“Ask nicely baby,” Izuku whispers. “I know you can do it – “
“Please, Izuku, I want you to fuck me, I want your hands, I need them, please, please – “
Katsuki feels Izuku grin victoriously against his lips and then he’s throwing Katsuki’s legs apart, guiding his cock to Katsuki’s hole, slowly pushing inside. As the head of Izuku’s cock breaches him, Katsuki’s back involuntarily arches off the bedsheets, the only thing keeping him in place being Izuku’s strong hand, pinning him to the sheets by the hip.
Izuku pulls almost completely out just as slowly as he pushed in, hitting Katsuki’s prostate head on. He continues with deep and filling thrusts, but he’s still too slow for Katsuki’s greed and desperation.
“C’mon Izuku,” Katsuki whines as another thrust hits him all too slow and sweet. Even worse than the fact that Izuku is going slow, is the fact that Izuku’s hand remains on Katsuki’s thighs and hips instead of where they both know he really wants and needs them.
Izuku chuckles.
“Kacchan knows what I wanna hear,” he mutters against Katduki’s lips.
And if Katsuki wasn’t actively losing his fucking mind, maybe he would have spat in his face. Perhaps he would reach out for Izuku’s hand himself, placing him where to hold, where to choke, wordless.
Tonight though, he possesses no such power.
“Please, Izuku,” Katsuki cries out, tears slipping down his face as he finally gives in. “Please choke me, please, put your hands on me, choke me, please, please, please – “
Katsuki doesn’t get to finish his begging; before he can, one of Izuku’s hands wraps around his throat. Katsuki realizes that he had been correct. Izuku’s hand is big enough to wrap around his neck completely. And as Izuku’s grip finally, finally, tightens around his throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure, Katsuki’s eyes roll back.
It doesn’t help that simultaneously, Izuku finally starts fucking him for real. Unlike before, when Izuku was focused on teasing him by barely grazing his prostate, his thrusts now are aimed at it head-on, in a hard pace, the dirty sounds of skin meeting skin echoing around the bedroom. It takes mere seconds for Katsuki to come completely undone, cumming hard. Izuku fucks him through it, not stopping the snapping of his hips nor loosening the grip on his neck.
“You wanted it that bad, baby?” Izuku mocks from above him. “Cumming as soon as I put my hands on you? Unbelievable. And you thought you could – ah – keep it a secret from me.”
Katsuki knows he is meant to respond, wants to respond, but for some reason he can’t. Every hair on his body is standing up in pleasure, every nerve lit on fire, his back still arching from the bed as much as it can under Izuku’s weight over his, body still reeling from the aftershocks of the possible best orgasm of his life.
The hold on his throat loosens and Katsuki instinctively mewls at the loss, only for to be met with a sharp slap on his cheek from Izuku’s other hand.
“Really?” Izuku murmurs from above him. “You’re going to ignore me when I’m talking to you and then immediately complain?”
“S-sorry,” Katsuki mumbles out, hiccupping. “Didn’t wanna hide it from you… just didn’t – didn’t know how – “
This time, Izuku gently strokes his thumb over Katsuki’s cheek.
“Shh, it’s okay love,” he whispers, placing a gentle peck against Katsuki’s slightly open mouth. “It’s okay. You’ve been so good.” Izuku emphasizes his words by placing another gentle peck on Katsuki’s sweaty forehead, fingers brushing gently across his neck.
“Are you okay Kacchan? Is it too much?”
Katsuki frowns, shaking his head. “Want more,” he whispers instead. He feels something inside him flutter as he feels Izuku grow even harder inside of him and smiles softly against his lips as Izuku lets out a low moan. He really is into this just as much as Katsuki is.
“Fuck,” Izuku murmurs, digging his forehead into Katsuki’s shoulder. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”
Before Katsuki can respond – if he even is capable of it right now – Izuku pulls his cock out of him. The emptiness hits Katsuki all at once, making him whine. Izuku delivers a sharp smack against his lower thigh that is still raised from the bed in his hold.
“Don’t whine,” Izuku orders softly. “Hands and knees.”
The command makes Katsuki’s blood rush south again as he instinctively rolls over, effectively presenting himself. He feels Izuku’s big, strong hands trace against his thighs and backside and moans at the knowledge that soon, they’ll be wrapped around his throat again. Izuku pushes his shoulders down, making Katsuki fold his arms and press his cheek into the already soiled sheets. His other hand grips into the meat of his hip hard, making Katsuki hope it will leave finger-shaped bruises. Without preamble, Izuku pushes his still fully hard cock back into Katsuki’s hole in a one fast thrust of his hips. Then, he reaches both of his hands forward, wrapping them around the nape of Katsuki’s neck and pressing his thick fingers to the sides of his throat. And then, just as Izuku starts a new steady rhythm of fucking him, he starts to tighten his fingers around his neck too.
“I was so angry,” Izuku rasps out between thrusts. “That villain got to hold you like that. But you’re mine. You’re mine to hold. Mine to fuck, mine to choke. Only mine. Only I get to hold Kacchan like this,” he whispers, leaning in closer, putting more of his weight onto Katsuki’s neck, making his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“That’s it love,” Izuku whispers as he keeps fucking him. “That’s it. Don’t resist it, okay? Let me take you under.”
There’s something like stars lingering just out of reach, in the corners of his vision. It’s gold and it's bright and it’s blinding and just like that, Katsuki gives in.
When Katsuki comes to, something warm is filing him up from the outside in. There are almost rabid, needy thrusts connecting with his skin, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing across the room, a warm breath ghosting the nape of his neck and he feels needy and dizzy and high, high, high -
Oh.
Izuku is still fucking him. Izuku is fucking his cum inside of him. His hands are everywhere and Katsuki is floating inside his own body, time and place suspended. His limbs and insides are cotton and clouds engulfed in heated gold that burns him from the inside out in the best way.
Katsuki doesn’t know how long he floats like that, but eventually he can feel Izuku filling him up again, his rabid body slowly coming to a still in shivers. Then, there are lips on his forehead, on his cheeks, on his ears and on his eyelids, making him blink open his eyes he didn’t realize were still closed.
“I love you,” Izuku whispers into his ear as if it were needed - as if Katsuki could ever come apart in anyone else’s arms like this.
Izuku kisses his neck where the pads of so many and now finally his fingers have squeezed, and Katsuki feels more whole than he ever has.
Izuku is away on a mission. He’s been gone for three days, set to return in a day and Katsuki is bored and horny and needy.
And so, he opens up his phone, unlocking the secreted album in his gallery, clicking on the video of that evening.
This way, Katsuki can see the exact moment he passes out underneath Izuku’s hands. He sees the way his hands limply fall away from Izuku’s shoulders and how something in his body simply gives.
Izuku stills, moaning and Katsuki knows exactly why. It’s not out of concern but because of how turned on he is. Katsuki can tell it exactly by the way Izuku squeezes his eyes shut, biting his bottom lip. He watches as he pulls out, squeezing his dick by the base to stop himself from cumming. After a beat passes and Izuku seems to calm himself down enough, he redirects his gaze back to Katsuki, and fuck. The way Izuku looks at him gets Katsuki’s half hard cock fully filled with blood almost instantly. Because Izuku looks like he wants to eat him alive. Izuku looks at him like an apex predator and Katsuki is his prey that finally gave in and stumbled after running for all too long. They look like –
Izuku on the video gently kisses Katsuki on the forehead. That same gentleness then vanishes completely as Izuku turns his limp body around, makes the unconscious Katsuki lay on his stomach, spreads his asscheeks and pushes back in without preamble. The first thrust is already so fast and hard it makes Katsuki’s unconscious body shift forward in the bed and there’s something about how limp his body looks and how much power Izuku possesses over him in that moment that makes Katsuki moan while watching, almost at the same time that Izuku does so in the video. Because that thing, whatever that thing is, seems to spur Izuku on as much as it spurs on Katsuki. In no time, Izuku is pounding into Katsuki again. And yeah, Izuku is always loud during sex, something Katsuki absolutely fucking adores, but this? This is something else.
Izuku sounds downright pathetic as he pounds away at Katsuki’s limp form on the bed, loud guttural moans mixing in with occasional whines and unintelligible mutters of praise. Izuku is kneeling behind him, fucking forwards and pushing Katsuki’s body back onto his cock at the same time. The way Katsuki’s body lays completely limp as Izuku pounds into his ass and his cheek and haywire hair drag along the bedsheets every time Izuku moves his body, makes Katsuki look like he’s nothing but a sex toy, nothing but a cocksleeve for Izuku to use and get off with however he pleases.
Katsuki throws his head back against the wall, barely able to keep his eyes on the video as he strokes his cock faster and feels his release nearing.
It must be barely over ten seconds later, when Izuku in the video leans down over Katsuki’s still limp body, pressing him further into the sheets with his chest, the rhythm of his hips growing rapidly. Katsuki gives everything he has to concentrate on the scene on the screen, not to miss the way Izuku pounds away at Katsuki’s unconscious body, holding him with one hand by the hip and pushing his head down into the bed with the other as he comes with an outright pathetic moan. Katsuki watches the way Izuku’s hips grind into him as he empties himself, humping him from behind like a rabid animal as he moans and whines. Katsuki can’t hold on anymore either; before he’s able to hold his gaze on his screen for a moment longer he’s instinctively throwing his head back, stroking himself through the intense orgasm that overtakes him.
Katsuki lies on his back in bed for a time that’s difficult to put to count. Despite his absence, the bed still smells like Izuku. His hand digs into the sheets less in desperation and more in anticipation of Izuku coming back home the next day. That night, Katsuki falls asleep easily, knowing that soon, they’ll do it all over again.