Work Text:
Katsuki is mindlessly flipping through TV channels, silently wondering when the fuck every show on air got so goddamn boring, when she hears the front door open. She’s far past the point of hiding the way she perks up at knowing Izuku is home, muting the TV on some commercial for running shoes and getting up to peek around the corner of the genkan to see him.
Izuku’s got his back to her, head tucked between his shoulders as he struggles out of his bulky iron-soled boots. She always tells him to just change at the agency before coming home like literally everyone else, but he insists that he’d rather be home sooner than take a detour for the agency on his way back. Stupid sappy nerd.
Katsuki leans against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest as she admires the way Izuku’s muscles twist and shift beneath the fabric of his muscle tee and binder, the dusty pink of crisscrossing scars decorating his skin. If she squints, she can see faded scratch marks across his upper back, a sight that makes a dull warmth begin to stir in her gut.
Izuku stands up finally, and turns around before jumping with a cry of, “Wahcchan! You scared me!” He lays a hand over his heart, blinking rapidly. “I didn’t hear you come over.”
But Katsuki doesn’t concern herself with the scaredy-cat nature of her boyfriend because… he got a haircut.
Now, Izuku has always kept his hair short. Katsuki thinks (knows) it was around middle school when he chopped off all his hair and insisted on wearing the boys’ uniform, despite how many times it landed him in trouble with their teachers. But his hair has never quite looked like this.
It’s short in the front, with layers cut into his curls to make them really stand out, but still long enough in the back to brush against the nape of his neck. A shaggy, artfully messy, almost mullet like haircut. Clearly done by someone who knows how to handle a pair of scissors.
Katsuki finds herself mesmerized by it, walking over until she can slip her hands into it, reveling in how soft Izuku’s hair feels against her fingertips.
“You got a haircut.” She says breathily, stepping even closer when Izuku’s arms find her hips and pull her into him.
“Oh, yeah,” Izuku chuckles, his cheeks turning slightly pink beneath his freckles, “I fought a villain with a slime quirk today and it got all in my hair. I needed a haircut anyway so… good timing, I guess.”
“Mh,” Katsuki hums in response, unable to take her eyes off the way this new style makes Izuku look so damn good. “You look handsome.”
Izuku’s face is in a full blush now, red all the way down to his neck. Katsuki feels his fingers twitch against her waist, goosebumps making her shiver when they slip beneath the hem of her thin t-shirt to press against her skin.
“Kacchan likes it?”
Izuku’s mouth is warm against her own, and he tastes the ginger tea she knows he likes. Izuku’s hands make their way up her back until he can hold her still with a firm grip to the back of her neck, and Katsuki can’t help the quiet whine that leaks from her lips when Izuku’s tongue meets her own.
They’re both breathing heavily when they manage to separate with an obscene wet sound. Katsuki bites her lip to hide a smile, notching her fingers into the hair at the nape of Izuku’s neck to force his gaze up to meet hers again.
“Get the harness.”
⇍⇍⇍⇏⇏⇏
This has always been Katsuki’s favorite part. More than the bone deep satisfaction after the fact, more than the sex, even. She loves watching Izuku’s hands, fixing clasps and tightening straps. She loves the way the black leather of the harness bunches up the material of his sweatpants, loves shamelessly ogling the way it frames his ass when he bends over her, the mirror across their room giving her a heavenly view. Loves how sweaty and hot and eager he gets, his skin boiling where it makes contact with hers. Grabbing, groping, squeezing, pulling. Like he could meld them together if he tried hard enough, warm them up like playdough before attaching himself to her, two becoming one, bodies morphing to accept the other into them.
His breath is hot against her neck, stinging against the hickeys and bite marks he’d imprinted into her skin. He slides into her easily, slow but wet and loud. He moans like he can feel her around him. Katsuki knows he wishes he could. He mutters as much into her skin.
One day he will, maybe. Izuku hasn’t really made up his mind about that yet.
“Kacchan,” Izuku gasps, hips grinding against hers. They’ve already soaked their sheets, Katsuki lying in the middle of a mess of her own making. Well, technically Izuku’s making. Semantics, really. “Love you so much, my pretty girl, you’re perfect.” He’s rocking against her, not thrusting yet, just slowly rolling his hips into her. Pushing in more than he’s pulling out, mimicking her cries when he hits somewhere that sends fire racing along her nerves, eyes tracking every microexpression that flits across her face. He’s so good at this, so so good.
“I’m gonna cum.” Katsuki says miserably. Izuku hasn’t even started fucking her yet, not really. But he’s watching her so closely, he’s pushing her into the mattress with his entire bodyweight and forcing her to just lay there and take, he’s warm and attentive and Katsuki just can’t help it.
“That’s okay. I’ll get more out of you.” Izuku gives her a smile, almost shy, as if he isn’t so deep inside her that he can poke himself through her flesh.
Katsuki can feel his stare when she throws her head back and shakes beneath him. She doesn’t have enough strength in her arms to do more than uselessly push at his shoulders, her heels digging into the bed as if to push herself up and away from him. But her body is jelly, her skin is paper thin and hot like molten rock, and Izuku doesn’t stop moving for even a moment. He follows her with every twitch and shake, pushing and pushing and pushing until Katsuki goes limp with a ragged gasp. Her throat is dry, her body is damp, her pussy is swollen.
And Izuku isn’t done with her yet. The insatiable fuck.
Izuku doesn’t stop the twitching of his hips, that same languid and steady pace, but he does give her a moment to breathe. Katsuki feels like she’s underwater, eyelids heavy and brain full of static, but she never loses the feeling in her body. In fact, she’s too sensitive. Every draft of air is too much, she wants to curl away from it. The sheets dragging against her sweaty skin make her want to squirm, but her brain and body don’t exist on the same plane anymore. She doesn’t have control. She gave it all to Izuku.
“Kacchan,” Izuku sniffs against her neck before dragging his tongue along her sweat-soaked skin, “Mh, a bit more, okay? I just want one more. Please? Okay?”
He’s asking but Katsuki knows it’s not a real question. She will cum again, because Izuku said she would. There’s a nice simplicity in that. She doesn’t have to think about her body, or how it will happen, or what she will have to do to get there. Izuku can think for her, and he’s never been wrong about what she can do before. Katsuki has no reason to believe he would be now.
There’s a rush of cold, and Katsuki has enough brain power to realize it’s because Izuku’s pulled away from her, propped himself up on his haunches above her. The position has the cock inside her shifting too, until a small bump presses up towards the ceiling, right beneath her belly button. Katsuki stares at it, watching as her trembling fingers manage to find enough coordination to caress it.
Izuku watches as she does, his hands tight around her hips. He’s panting, pupils blown wide and sweat matting his sexy new haircut to his forehead and the base of his neck. He moans like he can feel it too, when she presses down on that little curve.
“Kacchan,” He gasps. Katsuki’s throat clicks uselessly. She can’t make herself form words, but that’s alright. Izuku’s never needed them to know what she wants.
Hands slide down Katsuki’s hips, along the outsides of her thighs, before cradling the back of her knees. Izuku pushes them up to her chest, her hard nipples pressing into her own knees.
“Hold for me, baby.” Izuku murmurs. Katsuki’s body follows the order without question while her eyes track a droplet of sweat as it collects on the end of a strand of his hair, gathering for a moment before it becomes too heavy, falling away and landing noiselessly on her cheek before sliding into the curve of her ear. Only a little further to the other side, and it could’ve landed on her lip. Somewhere she could taste it, taste Izuku’s strength and how hard he works to make her feel good. Izuku laughs at her then, husky and breathless.
“Needy little thing, huh?”
Katsuki can only blink her damp eyes at him. He lifts a hand, catching her wandering tongue between two fingers. She hadn’t even realized she opened her mouth. Or maybe she never even closed it.
Izuku squeezes her tongue for a second longer before releasing it, shifting his hand to swipe his thumb across her cheek instead, gathering a mixture of both his sweat and her own.
He pushes his thumb into her mouth, and Katsuki closes her lips around it immediately, curling her tongue and hollowing her cheeks in the way she knows he loves watching her do. The taste is salty and musky, slightly bitter from a long day of work. Izuku mutters a curse under his breath, watching her with dark eyes. His free hand lands next to her head as he presses down against her tongue with the other, prying her jaw open and keeping her mouth wide as he rears up and really, really fucks her.
Like this, Katsuki couldn’t muffle her cries even if she tried. She knows she’s loud, deafening even, but there’s no room to feel embarrassed when she knows she’s being so good.
Izuku loves this, hearing her, watching her. And Katsuki loves more than anything to please him, so she lets herself melt into the mattress, nails biting into the backs of her knees as she holds herself open for him.
The sounds of sex around them are so overwhelming– the rhythmic thumping of their headboard meeting the wall, Izuku’s legs slapping against the back of Katsuki’s thighs, his constant flowing praise and her squealed moans.
Katsuki is going to cum again, she realizes as tears blur the sight of Izuku above her. She’s going to cum just like he asked her to, like he told her she would. It’s already building hot inside her, making her insides feel tight and achy. There’s slick drenching Izuku’s sweatpants and Katsuki knows she will only make them wetter.
There’s no words for when Katsuki climaxes again. It makes her shake and shiver and cry until she’s hoarse. There’s slick spraying between their bodies on a long arc, stuttered and interrupted by Izuku’s continuing to fuck into her, intent on dragging out Katsuki’s pleasure for as long as her body will allow it.
It feels like time has been frozen to a stop before Katsuki can take a real breath again. Izuku’s thumb has left her mouth, dragging wet lines across one cheek as he presses soft kisses into the other.
“Perfect, my pretty girl. You did amazing, you’re so good to me Kacchan, always, always, always,” He’s muttering into her skin between presses of lips, holding her close and keeping her tethered.
“Mmh,” Katsuki hums after a moment, wincing at the dryness in her throat. Izuku reads her mind, as he often does, carefully pulling out of her swollen body so he can lean over to their bedside table for a water bottle.
Katsuki’s legs fall limp against the bed as Izuku watches her drink. He follows the bob of her throat with attentive eyes, downing the rest of the water when Katsuki has had her fill.
He looks so good like this, Katsuki thinks. Sweaty and disheveled, pants drenched and the harness shiny with slick.
Once they’re both sufficiently hydrated for the moment, Izuku takes a moment to remove the leather from around his hips, letting it lay in a heap on their floor, before crawling back over Katsuki’s sweaty limp form.
He kisses her, long and slow, his tongue exploring every dip and crevice in her mouth, places he’s surely already memorized by now. Izuku kisses his way across her cheek, down her neck and chest, until he can fit his lips around one of her still pert nipples.
He swirls his tongue around it, biting it softly before releasing it when Katsuki whimpers. All the while Katsuki is aware that his own hand has made its way beneath his ruined sweatpants, starting up a steady rhythm underneath the fabric.
Katsuki cradles Izuku’s head in her hands, gently carding through his damp hair as he huffs and moans quietly against her tits.
Izuku isn’t like Katsuki. Where she’s all screams and squeals, he’s quiet. Focused. His brows are pinched in pleasure while he touches himself, only the occasional huff of a moan leaving his lips when they come away from Katsuki’s nipple.
His climax comes with the subtle canting of his hips into his hand and a Kacchan quietly breathed against skin. Katsuki peppers kisses against his hairline as he twitches through it, tracing the shell of his ear with a thumb.
He pulls his hand free from his pants with a sigh, collapsing his weight onto Katsuki.
They’re both content to bask in this for a moment, breathe in the scent or sex and sweat that hangs thick in the air around them.
After some time though, Izuku shifts up a bit, propping his chin on Katsuki’s sternum between her tits.
“I think I’m going to send my hairdresser flowers.” He says, not a hint of humor in his eyes.
Katsuki though? She feels so fond, so stupidly, helplessly in love, that she laughs until her lungs ache.