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Izuku clicks open the half-empty bottle of lube. On his knees, he settles between Katsuki’s bare, spread thighs on the floor, his little smile anything but disarming. From above on the bed, Katsuki pretends like he’s indifferent.

Both of them know better than that.

“You’ve been such an ass, lately,” Izuku states the facts, playing with the cap. Opening and closing it. Click. Snap. He doesn’t break eye contact with the slitted stare struggling to intimidate him. Oh, no. Not tonight. “Rude to me in public. At work. In our home.” Izuku leaves the white, flip top open this time and traces his fingertip along the inner lip. “It’s so frustrating.”

Katsuki just grunts.

“That’s not an apology or an explanation,” Izuku shakes his head in disappointment. “It’s almost like you want to be punished.”

That’s when Katsuki’s facade disintegrates. Between his legs, in the confines of his black boxer briefs, his dick twitches. The lump is nowhere near hard, but Izuku’s discerning eyes know Katsuki’s cock as well as, if not better, than his own. He can see the firm swell, the aura of heat radiating from the fabric. It’s cute, Katsuki thinking he can hide the obvious behind that typical sneer.

“Punishment? Really? That get your attention?” Izuku laughs as he taps his fingernails along the short, ice-colored bottle, the polypropylene label. The quiet sounds are thunderclaps in their silent bedroom. “And you call me the slut.”

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

There he is. His firecracker isn’t mute. Not yet.

“You should watch yours.”

The reaction is instantaneous. A big palm digs into Izuku’s curls and yanks him forward, dipping close to his crotch. That smug expression incinerates as smokiness permeates the air. It’s nothing but a warning shot; no spark just scare. Izuku’s been under this fire for years, decades even. This right here, what Katsuki’s showing, is child’s play.

“Katsuki, sweetie,” Izuku frowns up at him. “You’re just making things worse for yourself.”

That earns him a scoff. “Since when did you grow balls, Deku?”

Izuku smiles, as he upturns the lube and squirts a big dollop onto the fabric of Katsuki bulge. “Since I started owning yours.”
Harmless embers stoke into something angry, borderline violent. Izuku refuses to let the hiss out of himself when Katsuki rips at his hair. A few strands break. He drops the bottle to the floor. He’s nervous for a millisecond because he thinks he’s broken his nose from the force it knocks into Katsuki’s right thigh. Katsuki holds him there, flesh flush together, his freckles sticky with lube.

“Cocky bitch,” Katsuki snarls. “Learn your place.”

Izuku knows it well enough already. He sinks his teeth into Katsuki’s muscles until he screams.

The teeth marks look good on him. Those are gonna purple-up nicely and scab. Katsuki releases him and spits lava. An onslaught of curses, of threats. Izuku takes his time ignoring him and picks up the lube, going right back to where he started.

The bed creaks under Katsuki’s shifting weight. Izuku wipes his face with the back of his hand as he sighs. “You earned yourself ten more minutes.”

Katsuki grits his teeth. “Fuck. You.”

“Twenty,” Izuku has no guilt. “It’s gonna hurt rubbing you raw.”

There’s no reply to that. Izuku takes that opportunity, the reprieve, to trace the growing outline of Katsuki’s prick. It’s so firm, so deliciously needy. It’s already grown so much in the past few moments, filling out and standing up in sheer betrayal to Katsuki’s fighting spirit. Deku wants to choke on it. But, there’s a time and place for that.

And Katsuki doesn’t deserve to have his come slide down Izuku’s throat tonight.

Izuku grabs the waistband of Katsuki’s underwear and rips the fabric, exposing him wholly. Another growl and belligerent words pierce through the air as Izuku tosses away the shredded garment. Pleased, Izuku smiles to himself and drinks in the sight he’s been desperate for all day.

Fuck, Katsuki has such a pretty cock. It’s so long and thick and swells in all the right places. Each vein is a highlight along the shaft, the color so vulnerable, everything so proportioned. Izuku drags his knuckle below the crown, along the meaty, swollen tissue. Katsuki holds his breath.

“Desperate, huh?” Izuku hums, holding the lube up high and letting it free-fall, slick honey all over the tip and down the entirety of his prick. It’s cool and Katsuki’s eyes flutter, jaw wincing. Izuku spreads his fingers and lets the lubricant pool in his palm. It overflows and cascades to the floor, dotting his grey sweatpants, but that’s a concern for later. He makes a fist and the liquid flows down his forearm, devilishly grinning as he slowly takes a firm hold of Katsuki’s pride.

“Oh, shit,” Katsuki murmurs. Arousal twists in Izuku’s guts at the soft moan.

God, they both want this so bad.

For a moment, Izuku pretends to not be selfish. He coats Katsuki up from the base of his balls to the slit. He strokes him, silky and slick, up and down and slow. His grip must be so comfortable, so satisfyingly firm. He tickles the pads of his fingers down the circumference of Katsuki’s head, dripping sensation along fragile nerves. He plays with his foreskin, pulling it along in ways that has Katsuki’s chin dipping back. Izuku wants to rub himself out while he turns Katsuki into a mess. But no, he’s gotta make it last.

Katsuki last.

He decides to be nice first. Izuku cinches his grip and pumps him. Katsuki likes that, if his hips bumping up and his reverent exhales are anything to go by. The noises from it are squeaky, slippery, lewd. He’s never felt so sexy.

“Your heartbeat is fast,” Izuku says, his voice no better than gravel. Katsuki rolls his eyes and grips the sheets, trying to ground himself. A losing battle. Izuku swivels his grip around and Katsuki has the audacity to part his lips in a stifled groan deep in the rumble of his chest. That ass.

Izuku is so goddamn parched. So thirsty.

“I barely did anything yet.” That is a half-lie. The context and anticipation are the best parts of this. Izuku’s vice-grip drags up to the ever-reddening tip of Katsuki’s head and feels his guts twitch when he watches a pearl of precum pull forth. It takes every ounce of strength to not lap it up. “You can’t come yet.”

“Not gonna,” Bakugou breathes.

“Better not,” Izuku smirks, words melodious. His free hand cups Katsuki’s neglected balls. He kneads them, gentle palpitations against the skin that has Katsuki’s toes curling. Oh, he really likes that. The friction on top, the love on the bottom. “You didn’t get permission. Can’t do anything without it.”

Katsuki’s face gets hot. Izuku loves that spiteful, humiliation worming into his expression.

With that, Izuku picks up his pace. His rhythm grows ruthless and gratifying and there’s nothing quite like watching Katsuki build up. Watching his abdomen tense, his knuckles go white on the bed, his brow furrowing in barely concealed pleasure. His grip digs a line up the underside of his prick, over that sensitive ridge beneath the crown. Katsuki hardens, grows even bigger in his hand, ready to burst.

And Izuku pulls off with a little uh-uh. Katsuki hisses through his teeth as his orgasm falls away before it can crest.

It’s only going to get better. For Izuku, anyway.

“If you were a nice boy, you’d get a reward. But, instead, you called me a ‘useless bitch’ in front of everyone at the agency.” Izuku snickers. “Let’s see what that gets you.”

Katsuki doesn’t dignify that with a response. Izuku isn’t naive enough to expect Katsuki to play his game so early on.

In another ten minutes, however, is a different story.

Izuku gives him a wink before spitting on his cock. He drags the saliva around his foreskin with the back of his hand, pulling it along with the skin. Katsuki’s nose wrinkles. “Repulsive.”

A lie. Katsuki is such a prideful piece of shit. Masking how much he loves this. Needs this.

This brat craves to be destroyed. He’ll fight to stay on his pedestal but there’s nothing more he desires than to be thrown off it. He wants Izuku to goad him, spit on him, treat him like dirt. It’s strange how Izuku can’t decide if Katsuki gets off more on being worshipped or belittled.

Izuku is the only person who knows that. That is power in itself.

His strokes are so fluid. So easy. Katsuki’s cock is so shiny it’s ridiculous. It’s a challenge for Izuku to keep his pumps controlled, but that’s the fun of it. It’s even more fun that Katsuki will never get the edge of friction he loves from less fluid attention. On his pelvic floor, there’s excess lube starting to pool, dripping down his skin, crawl down his thighs and taint. Almost to the mattress. It’s exactly what Katsuki’s cock should look like: pristine, glistening, so perfect that its wrapped in cellophane to preserve its magnificence forever.

The silly thoughts make him laugh. Katsuki isn’t fond of that. “Oi, fucker. Think you’re so tough?”

Izuku sticks his tongue out. “Mhm.”

Color creeps along angry skin and cotton wrinkles beneath Katsuki’s tense hold. “I could throw you off.”

“You won’t.”

Oh, that pisses him off. Katsuki’s painful grip is back on Izuku’s scalp, pulling his head back. His words are a feral snarl. “When you’re done with your power trip, I’m pinning you to the floor and fucking that nasty cunt of yours raw.”

Izuku’s eyes go lidded. There is enough experiential history behind that threat for Izuku to know exactly how good that’d feel. It’s happened before. Fuck, that’s just another weeknight for them. God, his mouth fills with drool just thinking about it.

But he has a job to do. And Izuku would never half-ass something so important to chase his own desires.

“Sweetheart,” Izuku thumbs Katsuki’s wet slit coyly. Too delicately. “You’re gonna be in no shape to do anything after I’m done with you.”

Izuku almost moans when he feels Katsuki’s cock pulse in his palm.

More insults die on Katsuki’s tongue when Izuku brings his second hand up to the base of his cock and starts to knead him like dough. It’s instantaneous. Katsuki releases Izuku and supports himself behind with his arms, turning his face into his hunched, left shoulder to let loose a shaky, open-mouthed exhale. Oh. Izuku plays a little rougher, getting caught up in the sheer high of watching his boyfriend, his partner, his most important friend in the entire world do his goddamn best to hide his pleasure and fail. Izuku almost groans himself when Katsuki sucks his bottom lip into his mouth stubbornly.

Yeah, this is a power trip. Maybe Izuku’s no better than him.

But he already knows that.

His two-handed technique turns into shallow thrusts. Tugging up and down in opposite motions, squeezing in the places that have Katsuki’s face softening. He keeps it repetitive and consistent until he notices that Katsuki’s grown too comfortable. Izuku nudges his cock down until it almost touches his belly, holds him in place, and with a firm forefinger and thumb, uses tight, targeted movements up and down along his head and the top of his shaft.

The sensitive tissue and the particularly-prominent vein are a weakness. Katsuki curses and stops himself from shifting his weight. He refuses to lift his hips into it. What a jackass.

“I love you,” Izuku grins, keeping up the torture.

“Fuck off.”

Izuku giggles.

This is a dangerous move. Katsuki’s breath is quickening too fast, and the tension in his arms and shoulders increases. An orgasm builds rapidly in his boyfriend’s gut, and Izuku has a choice to make. He keeps touching him, weighing his own desires.

Katsuki makes it for him. “Izuku, f-fuck.” He throws his head back and his hips lift up. “I’m―”

Like that, he releases his cock and holds his gross palms up in defeat. Katsuki sucks in a deep breath and curses. Panting, he fixes his glare down on Izuku as if to say be careful, aight?

Izuku will.

He decides to be kind and allow Katsuki five seconds to catch his breath before going back in. When he does, it’s all business. Izuku returns to one-handed, secure strokes. Up and down. Slick noises punctuating every motion with a filthy ensemble.

The rhythm he builds brings Katsuki near the edge before he’s kicked away from it when Izuku just stops.

“Tease,” Katsuki seethes, beginning to look frustrated.

Izuku leans down, never breaking eye contact and plants a sweet kiss to the tip.

He creates a tight circle with his fingers and drags it up and down his length. That kind of focused pressure feels fantastic. Izuku’s tried it on himself when he was alone one night. The moves have Katsuki outright moaning. Izuku doesn’t let him enjoy too much of that before switching to shallow pumping motions once more. With his hand back down on his balls, Izuku takes his time pulling at his cock. Watching the flesh darken as blood fills new tissue.

“You’re gorgeous, y’know that?” Izuku preens.

It’s a few minutes before he decides to gives Katsuki a small break. He jerks him fast, pretending to show him mercy. Katsuki’s teeth clench and his eyes shut and awww, it’s cute he thinks he’s allowed to bust. Izuku stops before it gets really good and gives a few pulsing squeezes to the base of his shaft.

Katsuki just about loses his mind.

“What’s wrong?” Izuku feigns hurt. His sticky lower lip pouts as he massages the shaft. “Something the matter, Kacchan?”


“That’s not nice,” Izuku huffs. He trails the blunt edge of his nail from his balls to the slit and sighs. “If you need something, you can ask. Insults aren’t necessary.”

The only sound in the bedroom is Katsuki’s struggling breath and the schlick-sounds of Izuku’s work.

“Well?” Izuku presses. Maybe, just maybe, if Katsuki shows an ounce of humility, he’ll give him a break. Maybe.

Katsuki’s stays quiet. Stubborn. Apparently, someone’s a masochist.

Izuku lowers his eyelashes and pouts. Katsuki once told him he’s so goddamn pretty when he does that. “I only want to make you feel good, Kacchan. If I’m doing a bad job, I’ll stop.”

Still nothing.

Clicking his tongue, Izuku pulls his hand away. Fine. He pulls himself up and stretches his asleep legs. With a perfect performance, he dejectedly tells Katsuki he’s going to go wash up. He apologizes. And he starts to leave.

It’s always a chase with them. Izuku’s angling to get caught.

“Wait, Deku.”

Izuku pauses. Facing towards their door and away from his boyfriend, he lets himself grin.


“Kacchan, it’s fine.”

He barely takes three steps before the sound of the bed creaking and a hand on his shoulder traps him in place.


Izuku did not anticipate a mouth to attack his or burning touches up and down his body. His chest. His hips. His neck. Oh. A surprised gasp leaves him as a tongue pokes against his and something insistent starts groping his ignored cock beneath his sweatpants.

“I’ll be good,” Katsuki murmurs against his lips, trailing his fingertips along his hip. “Don’t go.”

Izuku chases Katsuki’s mouth when he eventually pulls away. He’s dazed as Katsuki smirks at him, beckoning him back to bed. Izuku nods dumbly, his sticky hands definitely not shaking as he follows him.

They return to their spots. Izuku tucks his legs beneath his bottom, but this time, he isn’t so composed. It’s embarrassing just how easily Katsuki turned the tables on him, how he took Izuku’s stupid plan and made it work for himself. Izuku feels like an amateur. Only an inexperienced slut would be sucking hickeys into their boyfriend’s inner thigh after that, fingertips smudging along the tip of his needy cock.

Izuku isn’t an amateur but he plays the part well.

Katsuki groans and calls him perfect. Threads his fingers in dark curls like he’s drunk, coaxing Izuku along. In turn, he presses satisfying circles into Katsuki’s soft head. Fuck, everything is falling apart. Izuku wants to swallow that disgusting prick and gag on it until Katsuki bucks down his throat and shoots spunk down to his stomach. But he can’t. Stop with that! This isn’t what this is.

Shit, what even is this?

Izuku realizes then that he’s lost control of his mouth.

“God, I love your cock. It’s so good,” Izuku whimpers hot against his hip flexor. “Feels so good in my hands.” His fist pumps faster, teeth dragging over the bite marks and bruises he made. Continues to.

“You’re nasty,” Katsuki gulps, pulling Izuku’s hair. His words are so thick, tenser than the tautness in his belly, his stolen orgasms.

Izuku giggles breathlessly as he sucks one last splotch near his balls before sitting up tall on his knees. He braces his elbows on the mattress between Katsuki’s open thighs and goes back to what he wants.

Focused massages to his tip, over the veins and stretched skin and the pulsating tissue begging for release. Katsuki grits his teeth and hangs his head, scratching along Izuku’s scalp.

“Fuck, Deku, right there. Right―oh shit, I’m gonna come.”

Izuku tightens up the movements and Katsuki’s voice breaks. He’s so close, his prick such a beautiful, bloody color. Izuku sticks his tongue out, ready for it, telling Katsuki he can come, can finally let himself go and―

―Izuku stops.

Izuku doesn’t forgive and forget. This is a punishment, after all.

Katsuki whines, eyes dilated and wide and betrayed.

“Deku, you shit!”

“Can’t give it to you yet. You’ve been bad.” Izuku pulls his fist down the swollen length and twists it playfully a few times around the base. “You gotta suffer a bit more.”

The forgotten lube on the floor is back in-hand, and Izuku squirts a drop into his palms. It’s so unnecessary. But, pissing off an edged-out Bakugou Katsuki is enough of an excuse. Rubbing them together, he takes the renewed slickness and with both palms on either side of Katsuki’s cock and slowly rubs up and down the length.

Katsuki does not sob, but he’s so fucking close.

Izuku keeps it up, breaking pace to go faster when he wants, agonizingly slow when Katsuki gets too worked up. When he grows bored, one slick hand trails down his cock and balls until it’s knuckling softly against his taint.

Izuku’s being so mean. Katsuki’s never been more rigid, so big and full and begging. Izuku’s never encountered flesh begging before, but the way he keeps stretching over and over Katsuki’s foreskin and cock shows him something new. A few hopeful pulses echo against Izuku’s palm.

Poor thing.

“Is this even pleasurable, anymore?” Izuku taunts, biting his lip when a wave of his own satisfaction twinges through his body like a whisper. “Me working you until you’re about to burst and then starting from scratch? Again and again and again?” Izuku squeezes him to prove a point. “Hm?”

Through clenched teeth, Katsuki mumbles something.

“Didn’t catch that, sweetie.”

“―wanna come...”


“Deku, you piece of shit!” Izuku’s stomach drops. Glowering down at him, he can’t believe it. Katsuki’s eyes are just as wet as his dick. He swallows, trying reign in his lungs enough to speak. “Please.

Izuku swirls his fingertips around his head, pulling off every so often, floating back down. Like a jellyfish. A very horny, bitchy jellyfish. “Please what?

Katsuki’s grip in his hair is beyond painful, but for Izuku’s own pride, he keeps a straight face. Around him, worn thighs quiver and shamelessly hump up into the stimulation Izuku’s barely giving him.

It’s amazing to watch someone so haughty reduced to grovelling like a common slut. “Let me come. I c-can’t,” Katsuki sucks in a breath and looks away. “I can’t take it.”


Izuku’s hand stops. He licks his bottom lip, drinking in his wreckage. The sticky mess, the dark-colored flesh, the tight veins, Katsuki’s definitely-not-crying face.

Izuku is not a demon. He’s gonna give him everything he wants.

Katsuki shudders when Izuku rakes his nails from his inner thighs to his knees. Izuku huffs a nice, warm breath over his messy prick. He doesn’t say a word as he draws his knuckle back to his taint, gripping him by the base or his length.

Then, Izuku wraps hot suction around his head with his mouth.

The lube tastes bad but Katsuki’s yelp of relief makes it all worth it. Izuku creates the snuggest, firmest suction as he strokes the bottom half of his cock, touching all the parts his lips refuses to reach. Katsuki’s legs immediately close around Izuku’s shoulders, his body hunching over and the most pathetic sounds pull from his mouth as he chants out broken slews of yes.

The lube tastes bad and Katsuki’s desperate orgasm tastes worse.

It’s like Katsuki forgets how to breathe. He holds Izuku steady as he comes, the warmth trickling down his throat. Izuku is nice and bobs down, swallowing around him once, and then pulling back up to the head. His fingers milk every last weak spurt out of him. Katsuki grunts, scratching nails through Izuku’s frizzy hair, tiny gasps sounding hollow in the silent room. Izuku shudders at the attention, the satisfaction, the sheer storm of it all.

He broke Katsuki and Katsuki let him.

Neither of them speaks for a bit. Izuku pulls off when Katsuki tugs at him to do so and Izuku wipes his mouth with his clean forearm. Still panting, Katsuki doesn’t move. Izuku caresses the thigh he fucked-up and gives his boyfriend space to recover.

Izuku breaks the tension after some time. “I love you.”

Whatever Izuku anticipates, it’s not croaked laughter. “You’re awful. Fuck.”

Izuku delivers a playful smack to his thigh. “You like it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure,” Unceremoniously, Katsuki flops back onto the bed. He sighs, groaning in exhaustion as he rubs his face. “Now, clean me up.”

Izuku gets the wet towelettes from their bathroom and a hand towel and does just that. Katsuki is already floating through unconsciousness as Izuku finishes up. He washes his hands and brushes his teeth and when he returns, Katsuki has the blanket over him and he taps the space beside him.

“You wanna cuddle?” Izuku jokes, getting under the covers and nestling his cheek right into the warmth of Katsuki’s chest. Arms wrap around him and scratch the nape of his neck. Izuku hums.

Now this, this feels like an apology.

“Power nap,” Katsuki clarifies with a sleepy-slur. “Then I’m gonna kick your ass.”

He takes the opportunity to press his still-hard cock into his boyfriend’s lower belly. “I thought you were going to fuck me?”

“Same deal,” Katsuki yawns. “Now shut your dick up and sleep.”