Izuku woke to the gray light of dawn filtering through the curtains, Katsuki's arm heavy across his waist, his cock still half-hard and pressed against Izuku's thigh from where they'd fallen asleep. For a long moment he just lay there, breathing in the smell of his grandfather—sweat and sex and the faint hay that clung to everything. The reality of it sat in his chest like a stone: no new heart was coming. This man, this body tangled with his, had maybe weeks. Months if they were lucky.
Izuku turned carefully, pressing his face into Katsuki's neck, and felt the slow pulse against his lips. He didn't want to waste a single second. Not one.
He slid his hand down, finding Katsuki's cock already thickening under his touch, and whispered, "Papa. Wake up."
Katsuki's eyes opened, crimson and hazy, then sharpened as he felt Izuku's fingers wrapped around him. "Again?" His voice was gravel, rough from sleep.
"Every time," Izuku said, and it came out desperate, raw. "Every single time until we can't." He swung a leg over Katsuki's hips, straddling him, and guided the head of his cock to his wet cunt—he was always wet for him now, like his body knew what it needed before his mind caught up. He sank down, both of them gasping, and began to ride him slowly, savouring the stretch, the fullness, the way Katsuki's hands found his hips and held him like he was something precious.
"That's it," Katsuki growled, thrusting up to meet him. "Take what you need, baby boy."
Izuku's rhythm quickened, his thoughts dissolving into sensation—the slap of skin, the wet sound of his cunt gripping Katsuki's cock, the heat building low in his belly. He leaned forward, mouth finding Katsuki's, tasting the morning on his tongue. "I want to do this forever," he breathed against his lips. "Every day. Every hour."
Katsuki's hands slid up his back, pulling him closer, fucking up into him with increasing urgency. "Then we will," he said, his voice cracking. "We will."
Izuku came first, a sharp cry swallowed by Katsuki's mouth, his cunt clenching and flooding around the cock inside him. He felt Katsuki's orgasm follow, hot and deep, and stayed impaled, both of them trembling, slick with sweat and cum.
Later, when they finally untangled and stumbled into the kitchen for coffee, Eijiro was already there, wiping down the counter with a knowing smile. "Morning," he said. "I'll get the mop ready for the barn later."
Izuku felt his face heat, but Katsuki just grunted, pulling him onto his lap at the table. "Good. You and your brother can handle the chores today. We've got things to do."
"Already figured," Eijiro said, and his eyes were kind. "You two enjoy your time together."
The afternoon sun slanted through the gap in the hayloft's plank walls, dust motes dancing in the golden beam, and Izuku was on his hands and knees in the straw, his cheek pressed against a brittle bale, his back arched and open. Katsuki was behind him, one calloused hand gripping his hip hard enough to bruise, the other fisted in his sweaty curls, fucking him with a rhythm that was equal parts desperate and punishing. Every thrust drove Izuku forward into the hay, the scratch of it against his sensitive nipples, the smell of dust and animal and sex thick in his lungs.
"Harder," Izuku gasped, and it came out broken, almost a sob. "Please, Papa, harder—I need to feel you—"
Katsuki's answer was a guttural growl as he slammed deeper, his balls slapping wet against Izuku's clit with every stroke. "And you fuckin’ have me, baby boy. Gonna be walking bowlegged and leaking my cum and every time you sit, you're gonna remember who filled you up."
Izuku's cunt clenched around him, slick and eager, and he heard it—the wet, hungry sound of his own body taking what it craved. Below, in the barn proper, he could hear the scrape of a shovel and the low murmur of the twins' voices, too indistinct to make out words but close enough that they had to be hearing this. The thought made him hotter, a fresh gush of wetness coating Katsuki's cock. He pushed back to meet the next thrust, a desperate, shameless motion.
Katsuki leaned over his back, chest pressed to Izuku's spine, his breath hot and ragged against Izuku's ear. "You like that they can hear, don't you? Like knowing they're down there, listening to my cock splitting you open."
"Yes," Izuku whimpered. "Yes, Papa, yes—"
A voice floated up from below, unmistakably Eijiro's, warm and amused: "You two need more hay up there, or you good?"
Katsuki paused just long enough to shout back, "Mind your own fucking business, Shitty hair!" then resumed his brutal pace, faster now, as if the interruption had only wound him tighter. Izuku muffled a cry against the hay bale, his fingers digging into the packed straw. The orgasm was building, a coil tightening low in his belly, and he felt Katsuki's rhythm falter too, his grandfather's hips stuttering as he chased his own release.
"I'm gonna cum," Izuku breathed, his voice thin, a confession. "I'm gonna cum, Papa—"
"Good," Katsuki gritted out. "Cum on my cock. Let me feel you squeeze my dick dry."
Izuku's body obeyed before his mind caught up, a sharp cry tearing from his throat as his cunt clamped down, a gush of fluid spraying around Katsuki's cock, soaking both their thighs. He trembled through it, boneless, his forehead resting against the hay, and felt Katsuki drive into him once, twice, three more times before groaning low and long, his hips pressed flush, his cum flooding hot and deep into Izuku's already-spent cunt.
They stayed like that for a moment, panting, sweaty, connected. Below, the shoveling had resumed, and Izuku heard Tetsutetsu's voice, gruff but not unkind: "Gotta say, I've never minded barn work this much." Eijiro's laugh echoed up through the wooden beams. Izuku smiled against the hay, tears pricking at his eyes—not from sadness, but from the sheer overwhelming weight of how much he wanted this to never end, how every single second that was left.
Weeks bled into a blur of sweat and skin and the smell of hay clinging to everything. Izuku lost count of the times they'd fucked—morning, noon, night, in between, in the garden while the tomatoes ripened, in the barn while the cows lowed, against the fence posts while the sun set crimson and gold. His body had become a vessel for his grandfather’s cum, always full, always leaking, always ready for the next round.
It was late afternoon, the heat thick and wet, and Izuku was in the chicken coop, gathering eggs into his basket. The hens clucked around his feet, and he hummed under his breath, a tuneless melody, his thighs still sore from that morning when Katsuki had bent him over the kitchen table and fucked him while Eijiro made breakfast. He smiled at the memory, a flush creeping up his neck.
The door to the coop creaked open. He didn't need to turn around. The weight of those crimson eyes was a physical thing, pressing against his spine, and he felt his cunt clench in anticipation before Katsuki even spoke.
"Baby boy." Katsuki's voice was gravel, low and rough. "Leave the eggs."
Izuku's breath hitched. He set the basket down slowly, the eggs rattling, and turned to face his grandfather. Katsuki stood in the doorway, shirtless, the setting sun painting his sweat-sheened chest in gold, his robe hanging loose from his waist. His cock was already hard, straining against the fabric, the tip dark and glistening.
"We just did it this morning," Izuku said, but his voice was weak, and he was already walking toward him, his hands reaching out to touch, to claim.
"Don't care." Katsuki stepped into the coop, kicking the door shut behind him, plunging them into dim, dusty light. "Saw you out here, bent over, the way your shorts ride up your ass—" He grabbed Izuku by the hips, pulling him flush against his body, and Izuku felt the heat of him, the hard length pressing into his belly. "Couldn't think about nothin' else."
Izuku's hands found Katsuki's waist, then slid down, pushing the robe aside, freeing his cock. It bobbed against his own belly, thick and heavy, and Izuku's mouth watered. "Then don't think," he whispered, sinking to his knees in the straw and chicken shit, not caring, not even a little. "Just fuck me."
Katsuki's hand fisted in his curls, tilting his head back, and Izuku opened his mouth, tongue out, waiting. "Gonna fill your throat first," Katsuki growled, guiding the head of his cock past Izuku's lips. "Then I'm gonna bend you over and breed you full. And you're gonna take it, every drop, like the good little grandson you are."
Izuku moaned around the cock in his mouth, his eyes fluttering closed, his hands gripping Katsuki's thighs for balance. The taste of him—salt and musk and the faint bitterness of pre-cum—flooded his senses, and he sucked hard, desperate, hungry. The chickens clucked around them, oblivious, and somewhere outside, he heard the distant sound of Tetsutetsu laughing at something Eijiro said. His world narrowed to the cock in his throat, the hand in his hair, the voice above him telling him he was perfect.
Izuku's throat convulsed around the thick intrusion, his body's instinct to gag and reject what his mind craved, and he fought it down with a desperate moan that vibrated through Katsuki's shaft. His eyes were watering, tears tracking through the dust on his cheeks, but he kept his gaze locked upward, watching his grandfather's face twist with pleasure above him. The cock in his throat was a living thing, pulsing against his tongue, and he felt the familiar stretch of his jaw, the ache that meant he was full, that he was being used exactly as he'd begged to be.
He held it for as long as his lungs allowed. Ten seconds. Twenty. The world started to swim at the edges, the dim light of the coop bleeding together, the clucking of the hens fading into a distant hum. He pulled off with a wet gasp, his lips sliding up the length of Katsuki's cock until the head popped free, leaving a thick string of saliva connecting them. He sucked in air, chest heaving.
"I couldn't breathe," Izuku rasped, his voice wrecked, raw. His throat felt bruised, abused, and he loved it. He looked up at Katsuki, his eyes wide and pleading. "I want it again. I want you to hold me down and take my breath away until I can't see anything but you."
Katsuki's hand found the back of his head, fingers threading through his sweaty curls. "You like that, baby boy? Like when your old man's cock blocks your airway?" He slapped the slick head of his cock against Izuku's tongue, a wet, obscene sound that echoed in the small space. "Never imagined my own grandson would get so fuckin' addicted to my dick."
"I am," Izuku breathed, his tongue darting out to taste the drop of pre-cum beading at the tip. "I'm so addicted, Papa. I can't think about anything else. I wake up wanting you in my throat. I go to sleep dreaming of it." He opened his mouth wide, showing Katsuki the pink, wet cavern, a silent demand. "Please. Suffocate me with it."
Katsuki's eyes went dark, pupils blown wide, and he guided his cock back between Izuku's waiting lips. "Fuck, you're perfect. You're too good to me." His grip tightened in Izuku's hair, and then he thrust forward, not giving Izuku time to adjust, driving his entire length down that willing throat in one brutal, fluid motion.
Izuku's world went white.
His nose was pressed into the coarse hair at the base of Katsuki's belly, the scent of sweat and musk filling his senses, and he couldn't breathe. There was no air, no thought, only the thick, hot pressure stretching his throat, the pulse of his grandfather's cock against his tongue, the hand holding him in place, and the distant, roaring pleasure of complete surrender. His hands clawed at Katsuki's thighs, not to push away, but to hold on, to keep him there, to beg for more of this suffocating bliss. His vision began to spot, the edges of the coop dissolving into gray.
Katsuki pulled back just as Izuku's eyes started to droop, his cock sliding out with a wet, gasping pop that released a torrent of air and saliva. Izuku coughed, sputtering, his chest heaving, but he was already grinning, looking up at Katsuki with tear-streaked cheeks and a worshipful gaze.
"Again," Izuku whispered, his throat raw and burning. Then, louder, desperate: "Again, Papa. Please."
Katsuki's hand found his chin, tilting his face up, those crimson eyes burning down at him. "Christ, you're fucking incredible," he rasped, and there was something in his voice—awe, maybe, or the sharp edge of love so deep it hurt. He leaned down and kissed Izuku's forehead, reverent, before pulling back and lining up his cock again. "Alright, baby boy. Open up." And Izuku did, like a prayer, like a promise, like the only truth that mattered. "Let's see how deep we can go before your eyes roll back."
Katsuki thrust forward again, burying his cock to the hilt in Izuku's willing throat. He held there, his hips flush against Izuku's face, his balls pressed to Izuku's chin, and Izuku's hands found his thighs, gripping tight, holding him in place. The world dissolved into sensation—the thick, pulsing weight on his tongue, the stretch of his jaw, the burn in his lungs that grew hotter with each passing second. He counted in his head, a desperate, instinctive rhythm. Five seconds. Ten. Fifteen. His vision started to narrow, the dim light of the coop contracting to a tunnel, and he thought, *please, please, don't stop, I want this, I want to die like this, with him inside me.*
Twenty seconds. His lungs screamed. His throat convulsed around the intrusion, a reflexive gag that only made Katsuki groan above him, the sound vibrating through the cock in his mouth. Izuku's eyes fluttered, the tunnel shrinking, his grip on Katsuki's thighs weakening. He was floating, somewhere between pain and pleasure, the edges of his consciousness going soft and gray, and he clung to the sensation, wanting it to last forever, wanting to live and die in this single perfect moment of being completely, utterly full.
Katsuki pulled back slowly, his cock dragging against Izuku's tongue, and when the head popped free, Izuku gasped, a wet, ragged sound, his chest heaving as air flooded back into his lungs. He coughed, sputtered, tears streaming down his face, but he was grinning, looking up at Katsuki with worshipful, dazed eyes. "That was—" he started, his voice wrecked, barely a whisper. "That was forever. It felt like forever."
Katsuki's hand found his cheek, thumb brushing away a tear, and his voice was rough, cracked, tender in a way that made Izuku's heart clench. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, baby boy. You know that? You take my cock like you were made for it. Like your throat was built just to choke on me." He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Izuku's forehead, then his temple, then the corner of his mouth. "I don't deserve you. I don't deserve how good you are to me."
Izuku shook his head, reaching up to cup Katsuki's jaw, his thumb tracing the line of his stubble. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that. I'm yours. Every part of me is yours." He pulled himself up on shaky legs, his knees wobbling, and Katsuki caught him, steadying him, pulling him into a firm embrace. They stood there for a moment, breathing together, the chickens clucking at their feet, before Katsuki scooped him up, one arm under his knees, the other around his back, and carried him out of the coop.
The evening air hit Izuku's sweat-slicked skin, cool and welcome, and he buried his face in Katsuki's neck, breathing in the familiar musk of him. Katsuki carried him to the barn, to a pile of clean hay stacked against the far wall, and laid him down gently, like something precious, something fragile. He loomed over him, his body blocking out the dim light filtering through the barn's high windows, and his eyes were dark, hungry, full of love.
"I need to fuck your pussy," Katsuki said, and it wasn't a question, it was a confession, a prayer. "I need to be inside you. I need to feel you around me, baby boy. I need to hear you say my name while I fill you up." He was already pushing Izuku's shorts down, exposing his slick, swollen cunt, and Izuku spread his legs without hesitation, inviting him in.
"Then do it, Papa," Izuku breathed, reaching up to pull Katsuki down on top of him. "Fuck me. Use me. I'm yours."
Katsuki lined up his cock, the head pressing against Izuku's entrance, and pushed in with one long, smooth thrust that made them both gasp. He started fucking him immediately, hard and fast, uncontrollable, his hips slamming into Izuku's with a rhythm that was pure desperation, pure need. Izuku wrapped his legs around Katsuki's waist, pulling him deeper, his hands fisting in Katsuki's ash-blond hair.
"You feel so good," Izuku moaned, his voice rising with each thrust. "You always feel so good, Papa. So big. So perfect. I love your cock. I love the way you fill me. I love—" His words cut off as Katsuki drove into him particularly deep, hitting that spot that made his vision go white, and he cried out, his back arching off the hay. "Yes, yes, right there, don't stop, please don't stop—"
"Fuck, baby boy," Katsuki growled, his rhythm faltering, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You're gonna make me cum. You're gonna—"
"Then cum," Izuku begged, his own orgasm building, coiling tight in his belly. "Cum inside me, Papa. Fill me up. I want to feel you—" He didn't finish the sentence. His climax hit him like a wave, his cunt clenching around Katsuki's cock, a gush of fluid spraying against Katsuki's thighs, and he heard Katsuki groan, felt him drive in one last time, felt the hot flood of his grandfather's cum filling him, deep and endless and perfect.
Another night, after Eijiro and Tetsu had retreated to their own rooms and the farm had settled into its quiet nocturnal rhythm, Izuku found himself sprawled across Katsuki's bed, naked and waiting. The lamp on the nightstand cast a warm amber glow across his skin, and he watched Katsuki's cock throb and twitch as his grandfather climbed onto the mattress, his weight dipping the springs.
"You keep starin' at it like that," Katsuki said, his voice low and rough, "and I'm gonna think you want somethin' specific." He crawled over Izuku, his body blotting out the light, his cock brushing against Izuku's belly. "What do you want, baby boy? Tell me."
Izuku's hands found Katsuki's chest, tracing the lines of his pecs, the coarse hair between them. His gaze drifted down, over the ridges of Katsuki's abdomen, to the thick, heavy length of his cock, half-hard and already leaking pre-cum against his thigh. "I want you to fuck my tits," Izuku whispered, his cheeks flushing. He'd never asked for that before, had never even thought about it, but the image bloomed in his mind—Katsuki's massive cock sliding between his small, soft chest, the head brushing his chin, the sight of it—and he felt his cunt clench, aching and empty. "I want to feel your cock between them. I want to see it."
Katsuki's eyes went dark, a slow, hungry smile spreading across his face. "Yeah?" He shifted his weight, repositioning himself so he was straddling Izuku's chest, his knees planted on either side of Izuku's ribcage. His cock hung heavy between them, the tip glowing wet in the lamp light, and Izuku's mouth watered. "You want your old man to use those tiny tits of yours? Wanna see what my cock looks like buried between 'em?"
Izuku nodded, his breath quickening, his hands coming up to cup his own chest, pressing the soft mounds together. They weren't much—HRT had left him with just enough to fill his palms, small and sensitive, with puffy pink nipples that were already hard and aching for attention—but they were his, and he wanted Katsuki to claim them. "Please, Papa. Use them. Use me."
Katsuki's calloused hand closed around the base of his cock, guiding it down, pressing the head into the soft valley between Izuku's tits. The sensation was unlike anything Izuku had ever felt—the slick, warm pressure of his grandfather's cock sliding against his skin, the weight of it resting on his chest, the way Katsuki's breath hitched as he nestled deeper. "Look at that," Katsuki breathed, his voice reverent. "Look how pretty you are, baby boy. Your little tits wrapped around my cock like they were made for it."
He began to move, a slow, shallow thrust, his hips rocking forward as his cock slid through Izuku's cleavage. Each motion brought the head closer to Izuku's mouth, and on the next forward stroke, Izuku tilted his chin, catching the tip with his tongue, tasting the salt of pre-cum. Katsuki groaned, his rhythm faltering for a second before he picked it up again, faster, more desperate. "Fuck, baby. You're gonna make me cum like this. Gonna paint your face with it."
"Do it," Izuku gasped, his hands pressing his tits together tighter, creating more friction, more heat. "Spray it on me, Papa. Cover me in it." He opened his mouth, waiting, his eyes locked on Katsuki's face, watching the way his jaw went slack, the way his crimson eyes glazed with pleasure. The sight of him, this powerful, weathered man reduced to pure need by the feel of Izuku's body—it made Izuku's cunt throb, made him want more, made him want to be consumed.
Katsuki's hand moved from his cock to Izuku's hair, fisting in the green curls as he drove forward, his cock sliding faster, slicker, the pre-cum mixing with the sweat on Izuku's chest to create a wet, obscene rhythm. "Close," he growled, his hips snapping forward with each word. "So—fuckin'—close—" On the next thrust, Izuku caught the head in his mouth, sucking hard, and he felt the pulse, the twitch, the first hot spurt of cum hitting his tongue as Katsuki cried out, his whole body shuddering.
Izuku held him there, swallowing around the head, letting the cum flood his mouth—thick, warm, salty—some of it spilling down his chin, dripping onto his tits and chest. Katsuki's hips kept pumping, smaller thrusts now, riding out the orgasm, and Izuku took it all, every drop, until Katsuki went slack above him, his hand loosening its grip on Izuku's hair, his forehead pressing against the mattress beside Izuku's head.
"Jesus Christ," Katsuki rasped, his voice wrecked, his breath hot against Izuku's shoulder. "You're gonna kill me, baby boy. And I'm gonna die happy."
Izuku's tongue swept across his lips, collecting the last traces of cum, and he smiled up at his grandfather, his eyes bright with love, with pride, with the desperate joy of being claimed. "Good," he whispered, reaching up to stroke Katsuki's sweat-damp hair, his throat still thick with cum and arousal. "Because I'm not done with you yet."
A few nights later, under the same amber glow of the nightstand lamp, Izuku lay with his head on Katsuki's chest, listening to the steady, too-slow rhythm of his grandfather's failing heart. His fingers traced idle patterns through the coarse hair on Katsuki's belly, and a thought surfaced, glittering and electric—there was still one place his grandfather hadn't claimed him. One hole untouched. His ass, tight and virginal, a secret he'd kept even from himself until this moment. He felt his cunt clench at the thought, a sympathetic pulse of heat, and he lifted his head, meeting Katsuki's tired but watchful crimson eyes.
"Papa," Izuku started, his voice small and tentative, the word hanging in the warm air between them. "There's something I want. Something I haven't asked for yet." He shifted, propping himself up on an elbow, his green curls falling forward, and he watched Katsuki's expression shift from drowsy contentment to sharp, curious attention. "I want you to fuck my ass."
Katsuki's breath caught, a sharp inhale that made his chest rise beneath Izuku's hand. His cock, half-hard against his thigh, stirred fully awake, thickening and lifting. "Your ass?" His voice came out rough, almost disbelieving, and then a slow, wolfish grin spread across his weathered face. "Fuck, baby boy. You want your old man to take that tight little hole too?" He reached down, his calloused hand finding Izuku's ass, squeezing the soft flesh. "I've never done that before. Never even thought about it. But with you?" His thumb traced the cleft, pressing just slightly, and Izuku shivered. "I want to. Fuck, I want to so bad it hurts."
Something warm and possessive coiled in Izuku's chest. His grandfather, all sixty-five years of him, was a virgin to this act—and he got to be the one to take it, to give it, to share this first with him. He leaned in, kissing Katsuki's jaw, his stubble scratchy against Izuku's lips. "I've got lube somewhere," Katsuki muttered, already reaching for the nightstand drawer. "Used to use it when I jerked off. Before you came. When I was lonely and horny with no one to share it with." He pulled out a half-empty bottle of clear gel, and Izuku's mind snagged on the image—his grandfather, alone in this bed, hand wrapped around that massive cock, stroking himself to completion with nothing but his own palm and a bottle of lube. The thought made Izuku's mouth water, made his cunt ache with a strange, possessive jealousy. That was him now. He was the one who got to touch that cock, to suck it, to take it inside him. No more loneliness for Katsuki. Not while Izuku was breathing.
"How often did you jerk off, Papa?" Izuku asked, his voice a whisper, his hand drifting down to wrap around Katsuki's now fully hard cock. It jumped in his grip, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. "Before I came. When you were all alone out here." He stroked slowly, watching Katsuki's jaw go slack, his eyes flutter half-closed. "Did you think about someone? Anyone?"
Katsuki let out a shaky breath, his hips twitching into Izuku's hand. "Every damn night," he admitted, his voice cracked and raw. "Sometimes twice. Three times on the bad days. I'd lie here and think about nothing—just the feeling, just the release. But fuck, baby boy, it was hollow. Just me and my hand and this stupid bottle. I'd cum and feel emptier than before." He opened his eyes, fixing Izuku with a look so full of love it hurt. "Then you showed up, and I haven't touched the lube once. 'Cause I've got you. I've got your mouth, your cunt, your hands. I don't need anything else."
Izuku's heart swelled, a tight ache behind his ribs. He squeezed Katsuki's cock, feeling the pulse beneath his fingers, and then he rolled over, presenting himself on his hands and knees, his ass raised, his cunt slick and visible from behind. He looked over his shoulder, his green eyes dark with want. "Then use it on me, Papa. Make me yours everywhere. I want to feel you in my ass. I want to be so full of you that I can't walk straight tomorrow." He pushed back, a teasing wiggle, and heard Katsuki growl low in his throat.
Katsuki was on him in an instant, the bottle of lube clicking open, and then a cool, slick finger was pressing against Izuku's tight hole, circling, teasing. "Relax for me, baby boy," Katsuki murmured, his voice a low rumble against Izuku's ear. "I'm gonna take it slow. I'm gonna make you feel so good." The finger pressed inward, just the tip, and Izuku gasped, his body tensing for a moment before he forced himself to breathe, to yield, to open. The sensation was strange—full, invading, nothing like his cunt—but the heat in his belly, the knowledge that it was Katsuki's finger inside his ass, made it the most exquisite invasion he'd ever felt.
Katsuki's finger withdrew slowly, the slick loss making Izuku whimper, and then he heard the wet sound of more lube being squeezed into his grandfather's palm. The next press came with two fingers this time, pressing together at his entrance, circling, and Izuku's breath caught—the stretch was more intense, more present, the sensation of being opened spreading through him like heat through cold water. "Breathe, baby boy," Katsuki murmured, his free hand stroking Izuku's hip, his thumb tracing the jut of bone. "You're doin' so good. So fuckin' tight. You're gonna take me so well."
Izuku forced himself to exhale, to relax, to surrender to the invasion, and the fingers slid deeper, past the first knuckle, then the second, until they were buried to the palm inside him. The fullness was strange and exquisite—nothing like the stretch of his cunt, deeper, more intense, pressing against something that made his whole body shudder. "Oh," he breathed, the sound surprised, almost reverent. "Oh, that's—that's different." His clit, hard and throbbing, and he felt his cunt clench in sympathy, a pulse of wet heat that dripped down his thigh.
Katsuki's fingers began to move, a slow, deliberate scissoring motion, stretching him open one careful increment at a time. "Good different?" he asked, his voice rough, strained with the effort of restraint. "Or bad different?" His thumb pressed against Izuku's perineum, rubbing in slow circles, and Izuku's hips bucked, a moan spilling from his lips.
"Good," Izuku gasped, pushing back against the fingers, wanting them deeper, wanting more. "So fucking good, Papa. Please. I need—I need more. I need your cock." He heard Katsuki's sharp inhale, felt the fingers still for a moment before resuming their patient, torturous stretch.
"Not yet, baby boy." The words were tender but firm, a promise and a command. "I'm gonna open you up slow. Gonna make sure you're ready for me. I don't wanna hurt you." A third finger pressed at his entrance, and Izuku cried out—the stretch was intense now, a burning pressure that made his vision blur, his hands fisting in the sheets. "Shh, I've got you. Just breathe. You're takin' it so pretty. Look at you, openin' up for me like a good boy."
Izuku's breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling as the third finger slid deeper, the fullness overwhelming, pushing against limits he'd never tested. But beneath the burn was something else—a sharp, electric pleasure that built with each slow thrust, each careful twist of Katsuki's wrist. "I want it," he begged, his voice cracked and desperate. "I want your cock, Papa. Please. I'm ready. I'm so ready. Fuck me." He pushed back, taking the fingers deeper, and heard Katsuki groan, felt the vibration of it through the fingers buried in his ass.
"Fuck, baby boy. You're too fucking sexy." The fingers withdrew, slowly, and Izuku whimpered at the loss, the empty ache where they'd been. He heard the wet sound of lube being squeezed again, more generous this time, and then the blunt pressure of something larger pressing against his entrance—the head of Katsuki's cock, thick and slick and impossibly hot. "Tell me if it's too much. Tell me and I'll stop."
Izuku shook his head, looking over his shoulder, his green eyes meeting Katsuki's crimson ones. "Don't stop. Please don't stop. I need this. I need you." He pushed back, just a fraction, and felt the head breach him, the stretch sudden and sharp and perfect. The sound that tore from his throat was raw, animal, nothing like a word—just pure, helpless pleasure as Katsuki's cock pushed deeper, inch by agonizing inch, filling him in a way that made everything else disappear.
Katsuki bottomed out sooner than either of them expected, his hips pressed flush against Izuku's ass, his massive cock buried to the hilt in that tight, virginal hole. He was breathing hard, his hands gripping Izuku's hips hard enough to bruise, and his voice came out wrecked, reverent. "Fuck. Fuck, baby boy. You're so tight. You feel so—" He broke off, a shudder running through him. "You took all of me. Every goddamn inch."
Izuku sat there, impaled, feeling the weight and heat of his grandfather's cock inside his ass, a fullness so complete it made him dizzy. He ground back, a slow, experimental roll of his hips, and the pleasure that shot through him made his eyes roll back. "I love it," he breathed, his voice a broken whisper. "I love it so much, Papa. Fuck me. Fuck my ass. Fuck it hard. Please. I need you to—"
Katsuki didn't make him finish the sentence. He pulled back, almost all the way out, and then drove forward with a force that knocked the breath from Izuku's lungs, a sharp, perfect thrust that made him see stars. "Yeah," Katsuki growled, his rhythm already building, fast and brutal, his hips slamming into Izuku's. "Yeah, baby boy. I'm gonna fuck this tight little virgin ass 'til you forget everything. 'Til the only thing you know is my cock inside you."
Katsuki didn't slow down. He wasn't gentle. He fucked Izuku's ass the same way he fucked his cunt—brutal and wild and relentless, each thrust driving deep enough to make Izuku's vision white out at the edges. The bedframe slammed against the wall, the headboard cracking against plaster, and Izuku's voice had dissolved into nothing but broken cries, his fingers twisted in the sheets, his whole body nothing but a vessel for the pleasure tearing through him.
"That's it," Katsuki growled, his hands gripping Izuku's hips, pulling him back onto each thrust. "That's it, baby boy. Take it. Fucking take it." The room was wet with the sound of their bodies meeting—the slap of skin, the obscene squelch of lube and sweat, Izuku's desperate, keening moans. He'd never felt anything like this. The fullness was deeper than his cunt, the stretch sharper, the angle making Katsuki's cock press against something inside him that made stars burst behind his eyes.
And then he felt it building—that familiar tight coil in his belly, the electric heat spreading through his thighs, his clit throbbing untouched against the mattress. "Papa," he gasped, the word punched out of him with each thrust. "Papa, I'm—I'm gonna—I can't—" He didn't even need to be touched. His cunt was clenching on nothing, dripping slick down his thighs, and he felt the orgasm cresting, inevitable and overwhelming.
"Cum for me," Katsuki commanded, his voice a guttural rasp. "Cum on my cock, baby boy. Let me feel that tight ass clamp down on me." He drove deeper, harder, and Izuku shattered. The orgasm ripped through him like a thunderclap, his whole body convulsing as his cunt squirted against the sheets beneath him, hot and wet and uncontrollable, his ass clenching rhythmically around Katsuki's cock, pulling him deeper.
The sensation of Izuku's body tightening around him was too much. Katsuki cried out, a raw, broken sound, and Izuku felt the first hot pulse of cum flooding his guts—thick and warm, spurt after spurt, Katsuki's hips grinding against his ass as he emptied himself deep inside. "Fuck," Katsuki gasped, his voice wrecked, his forehead pressing against the sweat-slick curve of Izuku's spine. "Fuck, baby boy. You took all of it. Every fucking drop."
They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing ragged and tangled, Katsuki's cock still buried in Izuku's ass, softening inside him. Izuku's legs gave out first, his arms buckling, and he collapsed onto his stomach, Katsuki following him down, his weight a warm, grounding presence. The cum was already leaking out around Katsuki's cock, a wet trickle down Izuku's inner thigh, and the sensation made him shiver.
"Holy shit," Izuku whispered, his voice hoarse, his throat raw from crying out. He felt hollowed out, claimed, like every part of him had been remade in the shape of his grandfather's cock. He laughed, a breathless, broken sound. "Holy shit, Papa."
Katsuki pulled out slowly, carefully, and Izuku whimpered at the loss, the empty ache where he'd been so full. Katsuki collapsed beside him, dragging Izuku into his arms, pressing a kiss to his sweat-damp temple. "You okay?" he asked, his voice rough with concern, his hand stroking down Izuku's back.
Izuku nodded, tucking his face into the crook of Katsuki's neck, breathing in the scent of him—sweat and sex and something warm and familiar. "More than okay," he murmured, his fingers tracing idle patterns on Katsuki's chest. "I feel perfect." He felt the cum still leaking from his ass, the slick evidence of what they'd done, and a satisfied shiver ran through him. "I never want to go a day without you inside me."
Katsuki huffed a laugh, his arms tightening around Izuku. "You're gonna kill me, baby boy." But there was no fear in his voice—only love, only wonder, only the quiet joy of a man who'd been given more time than he deserved. "But what a way to go."