The door didn’t open. It exploded inward, the knob cracking into the drywall. Izuku’s heart seized, a violent flutter in his throat. The hallway light framed a massive, shirtless silhouette, grey sweats hanging low on sharp hips.

Katsuki stepped inside. The room filled with him—the sharp, expensive cologne, the deeper, sour whiskey, the heat coming off his skin. His cock was a thick, obscene tent in the fabric, the head visibly damp at the tip.

“Thought I fell asleep, Izu?” His voice was a low, graveled thing, slurred at the edges.

Izuku’s body went rigid, then a fine tremble started in his hands. He pulled his thin blanket higher. “Daddy.”

“Look at you.” Katsuki kicked the door shut, plunging them into near-dark. “Hiding. Always hiding from me.” He crossed the room in two strides. The mattress dipped violently under his weight. His callused hand found Izuku’s jaw, forcing his face up. “You know I can’t sleep.”

Izuku’s eyes stung. “I know.”

“I’m sorry.” Katsuki’s thumb brushed his cheek, a gesture almost tender. Then his grip tightened. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby boy. But I need it. You gotta service Daddy’s cock.”

He shoved the blanket away. The cold air hit Izuku’s bare thighs. Katsuki’s other hand went to his own waistband, shoving the sweats down. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, uncut and already leaking. His low-hanging balls followed, full and heavy.

Izuku whimpered, turning his face. Katsuki’s fingers tangled in his green curls, yanking his head back.

“Look at it.” Katsuki brought the broad, wet head to Izuku’s lips, dragging it across his mouth. It tasted of salt and musk. “Your daddy’s dick. All for you.” He slapped the heavy length against Izuku’s cheek, once, twice—a stinging, humid impact. A tear tracked down to Izuku’s chin. “Open that pretty mouth, cunny boy. Do it.”

“Please, Daddy, I—”

The plea was crushed as Katsuki pushed the head past his lips. Izuku gagged immediately, his throat seizing. It was too big, too much, the thick vein on the underside pressing against his tongue.

“There you go.” Katsuki’s voice was a dark croon. He didn’t wait, didn’t let him adjust. He pushed forward, the crown hitting the back of Izuku’s throat. Izuku choked, tears blurring his vision, his hands coming up to push uselessly at Katsuki’s rock-hard stomach.

Katsuki pulled back, letting him gasp a wet, ragged breath. “You can take it. You always take it.” He shoved back in, deeper this time. Izuku’s nose pressed into the coarse hair at the base. Each brutal thrust forward made Katsuki’s heavy balls slap against Izuku’s chin. The sound was wet, obscene, punctuated by Izuku’s choked gags.

His own body betrayed him. A hot, slick ache pulsed between his legs, his tiny cunt clenching around nothing. The shame flooded him, hotter than the tears. He hated it. He loved it. He loved his daddy’s huge dick raping his throat, claiming him, needing him so badly it made Katsuki cruel.

“That’s it,” Katsuki groaned, his hips pistoning faster. He leaned over, his free hand pinning Izuku’s wrist to the mattress. “Take it all, you little slut. Daddy’s good boy.”

Katsuki pulled his hips back, his slick cock sliding from Izuku’s abused throat with a wet pop. Izuku gasped, a string of saliva and pre-cum connecting his swollen lips to the tip. “Look at you.” Katsuki’s voice was thick with whiskey and want. He slapped his heavy dick against Izuku’s cheek again, the impact stinging, the heat of it branding. “Made for this. My pretty little face-fuck toy.”

“Daddy, stop,” Izuku whimpered, the protest automatic, hollow. His body trembled, a fresh tear cutting through the mess on his face.

“Stop?” Katsuki dragged the head through the tear track, mixing salt with musk. “You don’t mean that. Your cunny’s dripping. I can smell it.” He slapped him again, lower this time, the thick shaft hitting Izuku’s mouth. “Open. Let Daddy clean his dick on your tongue.”

Izuku’s lips parted on a choked sob. Katsuki fed him the crown, not thrusting, just resting the weight on his tongue. “Taste that? That’s you. That’s my good boy taking his daddy like a whore.”

Izuku moaned around the intrusion, the vibration making Katsuki curse. His small hands, which had been pushing weakly, now clutched at the sheets. The slick ache between his legs was a throbbing, undeniable pulse. He was so wet it was leaking down his inner thighs, cooling in the night air.

Katsuki’s red eyes watched him, predatory and sharp even through the drunk haze. “You love it. I know you do.” He pulled out slowly, then tapped the leaking tip against Izuku’s fluttering eyelids. “My cunny boy. My desperate, hungry little slut.”

“I’m not,” Izuku cried, turning his face away, only for Katsuki to grab his chin and force him back.

“You are.” Katsuki’s thumb pressed into the soft flesh of Izuku’s bottom lip. “You’re daddy’s. Every fucking part of you. This mouth.” He pushed his thumb in, mimicking a thrust. “This tight little boy-cunt.” His other hand slid down, rough fingers skating over Izuku’s trembling stomach, heading lower. “Made for my dick. Only mine.”

Izuku’s breath hitched, his hips giving a tiny, involuntary jerk upwards as those callused fingers grazed his inner thigh. The shame was a fire in his chest, but lower, it was a different kind of heat, pooling and urgent.

“See?” Katsuki’s grin was a dark, triumphant thing. He withdrew his thumb, replacing it with the broad head of his cock, pressing it against Izuku’s parted lips. “No more talking. Just taking. Daddy needs to finish in that pretty throat.”

He didn’t wait for compliance. He shoved forward, deep, burying himself to the root in one brutal motion. Izuku’s body arched off the bed, a silent scream trapped around the invasion. Katsuki held there, his heavy balls pressed to Izuku’s chin, letting him feel the full, impossible stretch. “That’s it,” he groaned, the words vibrating through Izuku’s skull. “Swallow. Take it all for me.”

He set a ruthless, punishing rhythm, using Izuku’s throat like a flesh toy. Each forward slam buried his cock to the root, his balls slapping a wet, heavy beat against Izuku’s chin. The sounds were obscene—gagged chokes, slick thrusts, Katsuki’s low grunts.

“That’s it, cunny boy,” Katsuki growled, his fingers tightening in green curls. “Take your daddy’s whole dick. Feel it.”

Izuku’s vision swam, tears and drool mixing on his cheeks. His throat burned, stretched impossibly wide. Yet between his legs, a violent pulse of heat answered every thrust. He was sopping, a slick trail cooling on his thigh. The betrayal was an acid in his gut.

Katsuki leaned over, his whiskey-breath hot against Izuku’s ear. “You’re clenching. Down there. I can feel your little cunt begging for me through the mattress.” He pulled his hips back until just the tip rested on Izuku’s tongue. “Admit it. You want Daddy to fuck you proper.”

“No,” Izuku sobbed, the word garbled around the intrusion.

“Liar.” Katsuki shoved back in, deep, and held. Izuku’s body jerked, struggling for air. “Your body doesn’t lie, Izu. It’s dripping for me. Always for me.” He pulled out completely, his cock glistening with spit. “Look at you. A mess.”

Izuku gasped, coughing, drawing in ragged lungfuls of air that tasted of sex and cologne. His lips felt bruised, swollen. Katsuki stood, looming over the bed, and fisted his own thick length, stroking slowly as he looked down at his son.

“You love being my little whore,” Katsuki stated, his voice dark and certain. He wasn’t asking.

“I don’t,” Izuku whimpered, but he couldn’t look away from the heavy cock in Katsuki’s hand, the pre-cum beading at the slit.

“You do.” Katsuki stepped closer, the head of his dick tapping against Izuku’s parted, swollen lips. “Open. Clean it. Show Daddy what a good boy you are.”

A fresh tremor wracked Izuku’s frame. Shame scalded his cheeks. But his tongue darted out, licking a stripe up the salty underside before he could stop himself.

Katsuki’s groan was raw, approving. “Yeah. That’s my boy.” He fed his cock back into Izuku’s mouth, not thrusting, just letting the weight rest there. “Such a pretty mouth. Made for this.” His thumb brushed a tear from Izuku’s cheek. “My good, good boy.”

Then his hand slid down, callused fingers tracing the line of Izuku’s throat, over his collarbone, skimming lower to brush a puffy, brown nipple. Izuku cried out around the cock in his mouth, the sound a muffled vibration that made Katsuki curse.

“Sensitive,” Katsuki murmured, rolling the nipple between rough fingers. He leaned in, his face inches from Izuku’s. “Your little tits get hard for me, too. Everything does.” His other hand left Izuku’s hair, trailing down his trembling stomach, past his navel, toward the heat between his thighs. “This is what you really want, isn’t it?”

Izuku shook his head, a frantic, weak denial, even as his hips lifted off the bed, seeking the touch.

Katsuki’s fingers found him—soaked, swollen, desperately hot. He pressed two fingers against Izuku’s tight entrance, not pushing in, just applying pressure. “So wet,” he breathed, awe and lust thickening his voice. “Soaked for Daddy’s dick. You’re fucking dripping, Izu.”

He removed his cock from Izuku’s mouth, ignoring the broken sob of protest. “Gonna finish here,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He positioned himself over Izuku’s face again, his heavy balls brushing Izuku’s nose. “In that pretty throat. You’re gonna swallow every drop. My good boy takes what I give him.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He pushed back in, setting a final, brutal pace. His thrusts lost all rhythm, becoming pure, drunken need. His grip on Izuku’s hair was vicious, holding him still for the assault. “Take it,” he chanted, a ragged mantra. “Take your daddy’s cum. Need it. Need you.”

Izuku’s body went rigid, then limp, a surrender that wasn’t consent but something deeper, more terrible. He stopped fighting. He let the thick cock piston into his throat, each thrust sparking a dark, unwanted pleasure in his core. His own hands fisted in the sheets, his back arching. He was close, so close to his own shameful peak, just from this.

Katsuki’s movements grew erratic, his grunts louder. “Gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strangled. He slammed in one last time, hilting himself, and held. Izuku felt the hot, pulsing release flood his throat, bitter and thick. Katsuki groaned, a long, low sound of release, as he emptied himself deep.

He stayed there, buried, for several long seconds, his body shuddering. Slowly, he pulled out. Izuku coughed, semen and spit leaking from the corners of his mouth. His eyes were glazed, unfocused.

Katsuki looked down at him, his own breathing heavy. For a moment, his harsh expression softened, something like regret flickering in his crimson eyes. He brushed the messy green hair from Izuku’s damp forehead.

“My good boy,” he whispered, the words almost tender. Then he stood, pulling his sweats back up over his spent cock. He didn’t look back as he walked to the door. “Go to sleep, Izu.”

The door clicked shut. Izuku was alone in the dark, the taste of his father coating his tongue, his own needy cunt throbbing, empty and unsatisfied. A fresh, hot tear traced a path through the mess on his face. He hated him. He loved him. He wanted him to come back.