The shower water was scalding, a punishing heat that turned Izuku’s skin pink. He stood under the spray, head bowed, trembling as Katsuki’s hands moved over him with a clinical thoroughness. The teacher’s fingers, slick with soap, scrubbed the sticky evidence from the inside of Izuku’s thighs, washing his own spend down the drain. The act was methodical, possessive, and startlingly tender—a contrast that made something in Izuku’s chest splinter.

“You’re shaking,” Katsuki’s voice was low, almost lost in the steam. His hands stilled, one resting on Izuku’s hip.

“I know.” Izuku’s voice cracked. He couldn’t stop it. The tears came then, hot and silent, mixing with the shower spray. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Katsuki’s thumb stroked a slow arc over the freckled skin of Izuku’s hipbone. “For doing exactly what I told you to do? For taking my cock perfectly?”

“No.” Izuku swallowed a sob. “For wanting it. For… for wanting you to do it again. Right now.” The confession tore out of him, raw and wet. “My body feels empty. It aches. And I keep thinking… I’m the only one you’re teaching like this.”

Katsuki was silent for a long moment. His hands resumed their washing, sliding over Izuku’s stomach, his chest, cleaning the sweat and salt from his skin. “Look at me.”

Izuku turned, water streaming down his face. Katsuki’s crimson eyes were dark, unreadable in the mist. He cupped Izuku’s jaw, his thumb wiping away a tear that wasn’t water.

“Say it again.”

“I want you,” Izuku whispered, the words a shiver. “Kacchan.”

The name hung in the steam between them. Katsuki’s gaze sharpened, his grip tightening almost imperceptibly. He leaned in, his mouth a breath from Izuku’s. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

“I do,” Izuku breathed, his hands coming up to rest tentatively on Katsuki’s wet chest. The muscle was hard under his palms, hot. “I want to be yours. Completely. I’m… I’m proud that you chose me.”

Katsuki made a rough sound in his throat. He backed Izuku against the cool tile, the shock of it making Izuku gasp. His massive cock, already half-hard, pressed against Izuku’s thigh. “Prove it.”

He lifted Izuku easily, hands under his thighs, pinning him to the wall. The water beat down on them both. Izuku wrapped his legs around Katsuki’s waist, a moan escaping him as he felt the thick, blunt head of Katsuki’s cock nudge against his soaked entrance. It was still tender, stretched from earlier, and the contact sent a bolt of pure need through him.

“Now,” Katsuki growled, and he pushed inside.

The stretch was breathtaking, a deep, burning fullness that stole the air from Izuku’s lungs. He cried out, nails digging into Katsuki’s shoulders. Katsuki didn’t move, letting him feel every inch, the hot slide as he sheathed himself completely. “You feel that? That’s where you belong.”

He began to move, a slow, grinding roll of his hips that rubbed directly against something inside Izuku that sparked white behind his eyelids. The water made the slide obscenely wet, a slick, rhythmic sound filling the stall. Izuku could only cling to him, each thrust punching a broken sound from his throat.

“Tell me,” Katsuki demanded, his breath hot against Izuku’s ear. His pace increased, driving deeper.

“Yours,” Izuku sobbed, the word a mantra. “I’m yours, Kacchan, please—”

The orgasm built like a tsunami, a pressure so intense it felt like drowning. Katsuki fucked him through it, his rhythm relentless, his own release building. When Izuku came, it wasn’t a quiet pulse. His body clenched violently around the thick cock inside him, and a gush of fluid, hotter than the shower spray, rushed out between them, mingling with the water cascading down their legs.

Katsuki didn’t stop. He didn’t slow. The gush of Izuku’s climax only seemed to fuel him, his hips pistoning harder, the wet slap of skin echoing off the shower tiles. “That’s it,” he snarled, his voice raw and stripped of its usual control. “Squirt all over my cock, you greedy little cunt. Make a fucking mess.”

Izuku could only sob, his body convulsing around the relentless intrusion. The overstimulation was a bright, screaming wire inside him, pleasure and pain fused into something he couldn’t escape. He didn’t want to.

Katsuki wrenched him off the wall, turning them so the water pounded his own back. He dropped to his knees on the shower floor, dragging Izuku down with him, never slipping out. He manhandled Izuku onto his hands and knees, the tile cold and unforgiving under his palms. “You wanted it again? You got it. We’re not leaving this shower until you’re so fucked out you can’t remember your own name.”

He drove back into him from behind, one hand fisted in Izuku’s wet curls, the other gripping his hip hard enough to bruise. The angle was deeper, brutal. Izuku cried out, a broken sound lost in the spray.

“Whose filthy hole is this?” Katsuki grunted, each word punctuated by a thrust that shoved Izuku forward.

“Yours! Kacchan, it’s yours—”

“Damn right it is. My personal fucktoy. My perfect, dripping little slut.” His pace was animal, unrestrained. “You feel how deep I am? I’m in your guts. You’re gonna feel me for days.”

Izuku’s arms gave out. He collapsed onto his elbows, his face pressed to the wet floor, his ass in the air, completely open and taken. The position made him feel owned in a way that burned through his shame. He pushed back against each thrust, meeting him, a wordless plea for more.

Katsuki laughed, a dark, breathless sound. “You love it. You love being used like this. Tell me you love it.”

“I love it,” Izuku wailed, the confession torn from him. “I love it, I love your cock, please, please—”

Another orgasm ripped through him, unexpected and violent. Another gush of fluid splashed against Katsuki’s thighs, mixing with the streaming water. His vision whited out.

Katsuki didn’t pause. He fucked him through the tremors, his own breathing ragged. “Again. Come again. You don’t stop until I say you stop.” He leaned over, his mouth at Izuku’s ear. “You’re just a hole for me to fill. A warm, wet sleeve for my dick. Nothing else.”

The degradation should have shattered him. Instead, it lit a fuse. Izuku nodded frantically, tears and shower water and spit on his face. “Yes. Yes. Just a hole.”

Katsuki pulled out abruptly. The sudden emptiness was a physical ache. Before Izuku could protest, strong hands flipped him onto his back. Katsuki loomed over him, water sluicing down the hard planes of his chest, his cock glistening and huge. He hooked Izuku’s legs over his shoulders, spreading him obscenely wide. “Look at me. Watch me ruin you.”

He sank back in, slow this time, a torturous re-sheathing that made Izuku whimper. He held there, buried to the hilt, his crimson eyes burning into Izuku’s. “You’re mine. Every fucking freckle. Every gasp. This cunt?” He rolled his hips, a shallow, grinding circle. “Mine. It belongs to me. It exists for me.”

Izuku reached for him, hands fluttering against his chest. “Kacchan…”

“Say it.”

“I exist for you.” The truth of it was absolute, a cornerstone in the wreckage of his old self. He said it again, louder. “I exist for you.”

Katsuki’s composure cracked. A raw, hungry noise escaped him, and he began to move again, a deep, pounding rhythm that stole the breath from Izuku’s lungs. The water beat down on them, steam thickening the air. Izuku clung to him, his body tightening, coiling, another release building with terrifying speed. He was so full, so perfectly wrecked, so completely his.

“You’re a fucking fountain,” Katsuki snarled, his hips a brutal, unrelenting piston as he drove into Izuku’s sprawled body on the shower floor. Water streamed over them, diluting nothing. “Look at it. Squirting like a bitch in heat every time I bottom out.”

Izuku could only writhe beneath him, another gush of fluid pulsing out around the thick invasion, his body seizing. “K-Kacchan—!”

“Shut up and take it.” Katsuki’s hands were everywhere, gripping his hips, his thighs, his throat—not choking, just holding, a brand of possession. “This cunt’s so ruined it’s just a leaking socket. My personal cumdump. You hear me? You’re just a warm, wet hole I own.”

“Yes,” Izuku sobbed, the word a prayer. He was shattered, oversensitive, every nerve screaming, and he wanted it to never end. He arched his back, pushing up into the punishing rhythm. “Yours, all yours—”

Katsuki pulled out again, the sudden emptiness a cold shock. Before Izuku could whine, he was being hauled to his feet, turned, and shoved face-first against the wet tile. “Hands on the wall. Now.”

Izuku scrambled to obey, palms slapping against the slick surface. Katsuki’s body molded against his back, his cock nudging against his soaked entrance. “Beg for it.”

“Please,” Izuku gasped, pushing his hips back in a desperate, clumsy arc. “Please, Kacchan, I need it, I need you inside—”

“You need?” Katsuki laughed, a dark, breathless sound. He didn’t push in. He rubbed the broad head against him, teasing the swollen, sensitive flesh. “You don’t get to need. You get to take what I give you. You’re my greedy, dripping little slut, and you’ll come when I say, and you’ll squirt when I want you to.” He leaned in, his teeth grazing Izuku’s shoulder. “Now come.”

It was a command, not a request. Izuku’s body obeyed before his mind could process it, a sharp, shocking climax tearing through him. Fluid splashed against the tile and Katsuki’s thighs. He cried out, his knees buckling.

Katsuki held him up, one arm banded around his waist, and finally, finally, sheathed himself inside in one brutal thrust. Izuku screamed, the overstimulation a white-hot wire. “Good boy,” Katsuki grunted in his ear, his voice ragged with his own unraveling control. “That’s it. Milk my cock with that wrecked pussy. Make me come.”

He set a pace that was all force, each drive knocking the air from Izuku’s lungs. The sound was obscene—wet slaps, choked gasps, the relentless spray of water. Izuku felt another orgasm building, a terrifying tidal wave he couldn’t stop. “I can’t—I can’t again—”

“You can.” Katsuki’s hand slid around his hip, his fingers finding his swollen clit. A rough, circling pressure. “You will. You’ll come on my dick until you’re empty. Prove you’re mine.”

The touch was the final spark. Izuku shattered, his vision whiting out, a broken scream ripped from his throat as another torrent gushed out. His body clamped down in rhythmic, desperate pulses around the massive cock fucking him through it.

That finally broke Katsuki. A raw, guttural groan tore from his chest. His rhythm faltered, turned erratic, and he drove in deep, holding Izuku impossibly tight as he emptied himself inside with a final, shuddering thrust. Heat flooded Izuku, a claiming so visceral it drew a weak, overwhelmed sob from him.

They stayed like that for long moments, pinned together by gravity and spent desire, the water slowly cooling around them. Katsuki’s forehead rested against Izuku’s shoulder, his breathing harsh in the steam. His hand, still splayed on Izuku’s belly, pressed gently, as if feeling his own release inside.

He pulled out slowly. Izuku whimpered at the loss, the sudden, aching emptiness. Katsuki turned him, his movements less frantic now, almost careful. He studied Izuku’s face—the tear tracks, the dazed, wrecked expression. His thumb brushed over Izuku’s bitten, swollen bottom lip.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low, satiated rasp. “Completely ruined.” There was no disgust in it. Only a dark, profound satisfaction.

Izuku leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “Yours,” he whispered, the word the only truth he had left.