The moving van looked absurdly small parked in the crescent driveway of the Bakugou mansion. Izuku stood beside his last duffel bag, the late summer sun warming the freckles on his shoulders. He wore simple jeans and a tight black tee, his green curls pushed back with a bandana. His heart was a frantic bird against his ribs.
The front door opened and Katsuki stepped out, followed by a uniformed housekeeper. He was in weekend clothes—dark jeans, a slate-gray muscle shirt that stretched across his chest. His crimson eyes found Izuku immediately, held for a beat too long to be professional, then swept to the van.
"That's all of it?" Katsuki's voice was its usual low growl, but there was an undercurrent there, a warmth only Izuku would recognize.
"Yeah. I, um, travel light."
"Good. Mina will show the movers to the east wing staff quarters. Your room's there. Third floor."
The housekeeper, Mina, a perky woman in her late twenties, gave Izuku a small, genuine smile. "We've aired it out thoroughly, Midoriya. And we've installed the child monitor system as Mr. Bakugou requested. We're all very glad to have you staying full-time."
"Thank you," Izuku said, flushing. The staff's approval was a tangible thing, a layer of safety over the secret.
"Where is he?" A bright, sharp voice cut through the courtyard. Ochako appeared in the doorway, Natsuki balanced on her hip. The baby’s face lit up the moment he saw Izuku, his little hands reaching out with a happy squeal.
"Right on time," Katsuki said, his tone flattening into neutral.
Ochako’s brown eyes swept over Izuku, the duffel bag, the van. Her smile was a perfect, polished curve. "Izuku! Welcome. We're so… pleased you could make this work." She shifted Natsuki, who was now straining toward Izuku with a frustrated gurgle. "Someone missed you."
"Can I?" Izuku asked, stepping forward instinctively.
Ochako hesitated for a fraction of a second before passing the baby over. Natsuki immediately buried his face in Izuku's neck, his tiny fingers gripping a fistful of green curls. The smell of him—powder, milk, pure infant warmth—flooded Izuku’s senses. "Hey, little man," he whispered, his throat tight. "I'm here now."
"He certainly seems to think this is a permanent solution," Ochako said, her gaze sliding to Katsuki. "I still think a trial period would have been more prudent. For everyone."
"The trial period was the last six months," Katsuki replied, not looking at her. He was watching Izuku with the baby, his expression unreadable. "He’s graduated. He’s enrolled in certification courses. This is the arrangement."
"Of course. The arrangement." Ochako smoothed her blouse. "Well. I’ll let you get settled. The west wing family rooms are off-limits for staff, Izuku. You understand. Privacy."
"Yes, ma'am."
She gave a final, tight nod and turned back inside, the door closing with a soft, definitive click.
Katsuki waited until the movers had followed Mina around the side of the house. He took a step closer to Izuku, his hand coming up to briefly, almost casually, brush a curl from Natsuki's grip. His knuckles grazed Izuku's jaw.
"Third floor," he repeated, his voice dropping. "Room at the end of the hall is yours. Has a lock."
Izuku shivered. "What time does Natsuki usually go down?"
"Seven." Katsuki’s thumb stroked once, secretly, over the shell of Izuku's ear before he pulled away. "Welcome home, baby boy."
The third-floor room was larger than his entire apartment. Sunlight streamed through a tall window overlooking the manicured back gardens. Izuku set Natsuki in the center of the plush rug, surrounded by a fortress of stuffed animals, and began to unpack.
"See this?" he said, holding up an All Might figurine still in its box. "Limited edition. Your mom would probably call it clutter."
Natsuki gurgled, slapping a palm on the floor.
Izuku grinned. "Exactly. She wouldn't get it." He lined his manga volumes on the built-in shelves, arranged his hero posters, and finally opened the larger suitcase. Here, the fabric was different—silks, lace, leather. The slutty outfits Katsuki had bought him. He hung them in the walk-in closet, his fingers lingering on the green silk dress from the restaurant.
"These are our secret," he whispered to the baby, who was now chewing intently on a plush rabbit's ear. Natsuki babbled a stream of nonsensical, happy sounds.
The day melted into routine. He prepared a bottle, changed a diaper, sang silly songs. He learned the layout of the staff kitchen, accepted a cup of tea from a smiling Mina, and felt, for the first time, like he belonged somewhere. The ghost of Ochako's disapproval was a faint chill in a sun-warmed house.
That evening, after Natsuki's bath, Izuku rocked him in the nursery rocking chair. The room was dark, lit only by a constellation nightlight. The baby's weight was a perfect, warm heaviness against his chest, his breathing slowing into sleepy sighs.
"You're my good boy," Izuku murmured, his cheek resting on the soft blond hair. "My perfect little man."
Natsuki nuzzled deeper, his tiny hand fisting Izuku's shirt. He made a soft, contented noise, then a clearer sound, muffled by fabric and sleep. "Mama."
Izuku froze. The word rang in the quiet room, simple and absolute. A hot wave surged behind his eyes, tightening his throat. He looked down at the sleeping face, the trust there, and felt something crack open inside his ribs.
He kissed the baby's forehead, his lips lingering. "I've got you," he breathed, the words thick. "Always."
He laid Natsuki in the crib, adjusted the blanket, and stood watching the steady rise and fall of his chest for a long time. Then he slipped out, closing the door until it clicked.
His own room felt charged, waiting. He showered, the water scalding his skin. He didn't dress. He just wrapped a towel around his body and sat on the edge of the bed in the dark, listening to the silent mansion. The digital clock glowed 7:47 PM. Katsuki would come. He’d promised.
The knock, when it came, was a single, solid tap. The door opened before Izuku could speak. Katsuki stepped inside and closed it, the lock engaging with a soft, final click. He was wearing soft grey sweatpants, low on his hips, and nothing else. His crimson eyes found Izuku in the dim light.
He crossed the room in two strides, his hand already tangling in Izuku’s damp curls, pulling his head back. The kiss wasn’t a question. It was a claiming. Hard. Desperate. Teeth and tongue and a low growl that vibrated against Izuku’s lips.
Izuku moaned into his mouth, hands flying up to clutch at Katsuki’s bare shoulders. The towel around his body loosened, then slipped, pooling on the bedspread between his thighs.
“Fuck,” Katsuki breathed against his mouth, his other hand sliding down the curve of Izuku’s spine, palm hot and possessive on the small of his back. “You’re really mine now, baby boy.”
Katsuki's mouth left his, trailing wet, biting kisses down his jaw, his throat. "Feels like months," he growled against Izuku's collarbone. "Living in this house, watching you with my son, smelling you on the fucking stairs. Couldn't touch you. Not like this."
"You touched me yesterday," Izuku gasped, arching as Katsuki's teeth scraped the swell of his pec.
"Not in your room." Katsuki's broad palm slid up Izuku's ribs, his thumb brushing a puffy, pebbled nipple. "Not in the bed I bought for you. This is different." He lowered his head and took the tight bud into his mouth, sucking hard.
Izuku cried out, his hands flying to Katsuki's hair. "Daddy—"
"So fucking perfect," Katsuki muttered, switching to the other nipple, laving it with his tongue before biting down gently. "These tiny tits. Been dreaming about them. Want to fuck them so bad, baby boy."
"Then do it." Izuku pushed at his shoulders, scrambling backward on the mattress until he was laid out in the center of the queen-sized bed. The sheets were cool against his feverish skin. He brought his hands to his chest, pressing his small breasts together, creating a soft, freckled valley. "Fuck them. Cum all over them. Please."
Katsuki stared, his chest heaving. The bulge in his grey sweatpants was obscene, the thick outline of his uncut cock visibly throbbing. A dark spot of pre-cum already stained the fabric. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and shoved them down in one rough motion, freeing himself.
His cock sprang up, heavy and flushed, the foreskin pulled taut over the broad head. He fisted it, giving it two rough strokes, his eyes locked on Izuku's pressed-together tits. "Look at you. Offering yourself up in your own bed. My greedy little live-in slut."
He climbed onto the bed, kneeling over Izuku's chest. He spat into his palm, slicking his length, then guided the head to the warm cleft Izuku made for him. The broad tip, slick and hot, rubbed against Izuku's nipples.
"Yeah," Izuku whispered, his green eyes wide. "Just like that."
Katsuki thrust forward, his cock sliding between the soft flesh. The friction was tight, wet with spit and the sweat from his stomach. He set a slow, deep rhythm, each thrust smearing pre-cum over Izuku's skin, the thick shaft nudging his chin. "That's it. Take it. This is what you moved in for, isn't it?"
"Yes," Izuku moaned, turning his head to catch the head of Katsuki's cock with his mouth on the next forward slide. He swirled his tongue over the slit, tasting salt. "For this. For you."
Katsuki's control snapped. His thrusts turned faster, rougher. The slap of his balls against Izuku's sternum filled the dark room. His breathing became ragged grunts. "Gonna mark you. Gonna paint these pretty tits. Show you who you belong to now. Every night."
Izuku could only nod, overwhelmed by the sensation, the view, the possessive filth pouring from Katsuki's mouth. He felt the familiar coiling tension in his own gut, his pussy clenching empty and wet against the cool sheets.
Katsuki stilled, buried deep in the hot channel of Izuku's chest. A guttural groan tore from his throat. The first pulse was a hot flood over Izuku's collarbone. The second shot streaked across his throat, his chin. Thick, white ropes painted his skin, marking him with possessive, shuddering bursts until Katsuki was spent, his cock still twitching between Izuku's breasts.
Katsuki looked down at his work, at Izuku lying beneath him, face and chest glazed with his cum. His expression was one of raw, reverent hunger. "Fuck," he breathed.
Katsuki’s spent cock twitched against Izuku’s sternum, a thick drop of cum beading at the slit. The foreskin was still drawn only halfway back over the flushed, broad head.
Izuku’s green eyes tracked the movement, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He turned his head and took the sensitive tip into his mouth without hesitation.
“Fuck,” Katsuki hissed, his hips jolting forward reflexively.
Izuku hummed, the vibration making Katsuki groan. He licked the slit clean, savoring the salty, bitter taste, then curled his tongue beneath the loose sheath, working it back gently to expose more tender skin.
“Holy fucking shit,” Katsuki cried out, his hand fisting in Izuku’s hair. “You greedy little—”
He didn’t finish. He pulled Izuku’s head forward, fucking up into the wet heat of his mouth. Izuku opened his throat, a choked gag rattling his frame as Katsuki’s cock hit the back of his tongue, then deeper.
“That’s it,” Katsuki growled, his thrusts turning punishing. “Take it. You moved in for this, didn’t you? To be my live-in cocksleeve.”
Izuku’s answer was a wet, desperate moan around the thick intrusion. He brought his hand down between his own spread thighs, two fingers plunging into his soaked, clenching cunt. The slick sound of his own fingers fucking himself mixed with the obscene, gagging rhythm of Katsuki using his throat.
Katsuki’s heavy balls slapped against Izuku’s chin with every rough thrust. “Look at you. Choking on my dick while you finger that slutty pussy. You’re fucking perfect.”
Izuku’s eyes streamed tears, his nose pressed into the coarse blonde hair at Katsuki’s base. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only take and want more. His other hand scrambled to grip Katsuki’s muscular thigh, nails digging in.
“Gonna fuck this throat until I’m ready to split that cunt open again,” Katsuki promised, his voice ragged, his cock already a throbbing, unforgiving weight against Izuku’s tongue. He’d never gotten soft. “Gonna fill you so deep my wife smells me on you tomorrow.”
He pulled Izuku all the way down, holding him there, feeling the convulsive swallows around his shaft. Izuku’s body trembled, his fingers working furiously between his legs, his hips bucking off the bed.
Katsuki finally yanked him free. Izuku collapsed back, coughing, spit and precum stringing from his swollen lips to Katsuki’s still-hard cock. He gasped for air, his chest heaving, his fingers still buried inside himself.
“Please,” Izuku begged, his voice wrecked. “Daddy, please, I need it. Need you in my pussy. Fuck my pussy, Daddy.”
Katsuki’s eyes darkened, his hand coming down to grip Izuku’s wrist, stilling the frantic motion of his fingers inside himself. “Such a good boy,” he growled, his voice rough. “Been so patient. Moving all your little things in. Playing house with my son.” He pulled Izuku’s wet fingers free, bringing them to his own mouth to suck them clean, his crimson gaze locked on Izuku’s wrecked face. “Yeah. You deserve it.”
He positioned himself at Izuku’s soaked entrance, the broad, slick head of his cock pressing against the swollen folds. “Can’t get enough of this tight teen pussy,” he breathed, and pushed inside.
The stretch was immediate, perfect, a burning fullness that stole the air from Izuku’s lungs. He arched off the bed with a shattered cry, his hands scrambling for purchase on Katsuki’s sweat-slick back. “Daddy—yes—oh god—”
“Mine,” Katsuki snarled, sinking deeper, his hips flush against Izuku’s thighs. “All mine. In your room. In my house.” He pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back in, setting a brutal, claiming rhythm. The wet sound of his thrusts filled the room, skin slapping against skin.
Izuku could only take it, his legs wrapping around Katsuki’s waist, pulling him closer, deeper. Every drive of Katsuki’s hips rubbed his swollen clit, the coiling heat in his gut winding tighter. “Please,” he sobbed, nails digging into Katsuki’s shoulders. “Don’t stop, don’t ever stop—”
“You think I could?” Katsuki grunted, his pace relentless. He leaned down, capturing Izuku’s mouth in a biting, possessive kiss. “You’re here now. Every night. This cunt is mine to use whenever I want it.”
“Yes,” Izuku gasped against his lips. “Use it, breed it, please—”
“Does my baby boy really want that?” Katsuki growled, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder, each one a punctuation to his words. “You want Daddy to breed this teen pussy? You want to have my baby?”
“Yes!” Izuku sobbed, his back arching, his hands scrambling against the headboard. “Please, Daddy, please—rail my cervix, fuck deep, I want it, I want your baby—”
“Want to give Natsuki a little brother?” Katsuki’s voice was pure gravel, his hips pistoning. “Want to walk around my house with my seed growing in your belly?”
“Yes, yes, fuck, breed me, breed me—” Izuku chanted, the words dissolving into a shattered cry as Katsuki’s next thrust hit a deep, blinding spot inside him.
“Fuck it.” Katsuki’s hands slid from Izuku’s hips to the backs of his thighs. In one brutal, efficient motion, he folded Izuku in half, knees pressed to his shoulders, ass lifted off the bed. The mating press.
Izuku gasped, the new angle impossibly deep, his vision swimming. Katsuki loomed over him, a sweat-slick god of possession, and sank into him completely.
“There,” Katsuki snarled, his cockhead grinding past the tight ring of Izuku’s cervix, burying itself in the yielding, hot chamber beyond. “That’s my womb. You feel that? That’s where I’m putting my kid.”
Izuku couldn’t speak. He could only gasp, his mouth open in a silent scream, his body stretched and impaled and owned. Katsuki held there, buried to the hilt, letting Izuku feel every thick, throbbing inch.
“Whatever you want, baby,” Katsuki breathed, his crimson eyes black with hunger. He pulled back slowly, until just the tip stretched Izuku’s entrance, then slammed home again. “Gonna get you fucking pregnant. Gonna fuck you every day while your sexy belly grows. Gonna watch my son suckle on your tits.”
Katsuki fucked into a brutal, punishing rhythm, each thrust a deep, claiming invasion that punched the air from Izuku’s lungs. The obscene, wet slap of skin and the guttural sound of his cock spearing into that deepest, hottest part of Izuku filled the room, a raw soundtrack to their joining.
Izuku’s cunt wept a steady stream, clenching around the brutal, pistoning invasion of Katsuki’s cock and aching, his entire body trembling with relentless, shallow peaks that bordered on agony.
“Daddy—Daddy, I’m gonna—it’s too much—” Izuku babbled, tears streaming into his hairline.
“You’ll take it,” Katsuki grunted, his pace never faltering. “You’ll take every drop. This cunt was made for this.” His hands tightened on Izuku’s thighs, holding him open, vulnerable, completely penetrated. “Come for me. Come on Daddy’s cock while I fill your womb.”
The command snapped the last thread. Izuku’s body seized, a raw, screaming orgasm tearing through him. His cunt clenched in frantic, milking pulses around Katsuki’s cock, and then he was squirting—a hot, gushing flood that soaked Katsuki’s balls, his own thighs, the sheets beneath them in a shameless rush. He shook, sobbing Katsuki’s name, his hole still spasming and dripping around the brutal, pistoning invasion.
Katsuki’s rhythm fractured into frantic, deep drives. “Take it—take my fucking seed—” A guttural roar ripped from his chest as he came, his cock pulsing deep inside Izuku’s womb, flooding him with heat. He ground his hips in tight circles, pumping every last drop into the clenching, fertile dark.
He collapsed forward, his weight pinning Izuku to the mattress, his cock still twitching inside him. They lay like that, a tangled, breathless mess, Katsuki’s cum leaking out around where they were joined.
Katsuki’s cock gave a thick, heavy throb inside him, still hard, still impossibly full. Izuku gasped into the damp skin of Katsuki’s shoulder, his own body trembling with the aftershocks.
Then Katsuki’s mouth found his. Not a claiming bite, but something slower, deeper—a kiss that tasted of sweat and salt and something dangerously close to tenderness. Izuku moaned, his arms coming up to wrap around Katsuki’s neck, fingers tangling in the spiky blonde hair.
“Daddy,” Izuku breathed against his lips, the word a soft, shattered thing.
Katsuki answered by kissing him again, swallowing the sound, his tongue sweeping into Izuku’s mouth with the same possessive rhythm his hips began to make—a slow, deep grind that pressed his still-hard cock against Izuku’s sensitive, battered cervix.
Izuku whimpered, a fresh tear tracking through the sweat on his temple. “S’too much,” he gasped, but he arched into it, his cunt clenching weakly around the intrusion. “Feels so deep.”
“Good,” Katsuki rumbled, the word a vibration against Izuku’s lips. He kept grinding, a lazy, relentless pressure that sparked sharp, bright licks of sensation deep in Izuku’s belly. “Gonna keep you full all night. Gonna feel me in your sleep.”
“You’re not… you’re not going soft.”
“Told you.” Katsuki nipped his lower lip. “Can’t get enough of this cunt. Now it’s in my house. Under my roof.” He shifted his weight, just enough to drive another inch deeper, and Izuku cried out, his nails biting into Katsuki’s back. “You feel that? That’s where my seed’s sitting. Deep in your womb.”
“It is,” Izuku sobbed, overwhelmed. He was so sensitized every tiny movement was a lightning strike. “I feel it. I feel you.”
Katsuki kissed him again, slower this time, his hand coming up to cup Izuku’s jaw. “My good boy,” he murmured, his crimson eyes dark and unreadable in the dim room. “Moved all your shit in. Tucked my son in. Let me ruin you in your new bed.”
“I love it,” Izuku whispered, the confession raw and unfiltered. “I love being yours here.”
A low sound rattled in Katsuki’s chest. He began to move again, not the brutal pistoning from before, but a series of slow, rolling thrusts that made Izuku’s toes curl. The wet sound of their joining was obscenely loud in the quiet room.
“Gonna be like this every night,” Katsuki promised, his breath hot against Izuku’s ear. “You, waiting for me. This sweet pussy, wet and ready. Me, fucking my load into you until you can’t walk straight.”
Katsuki kept up that slow, devastating rhythm, his cock dragging against every oversensitive inch of Izuku's cunt with each deliberate roll of his hips. "Gonna make you come again," he murmured against Izuku's throat, his breath hot. "Just like this. Slow and deep. Feel me, baby boy."
"I feel you," Izuku whimpered, his fingers tightening in Katsuki's hair. The climax built not as a crashing wave, but as a deep, spreading heat, coiling tighter and tighter in his belly with every grinding thrust. "Daddy, I'm—it's happening—"
"Let it happen." Katsuki's hand slid down to cradle the base of his cock where they were joined, pressing against Izuku's swollen clit with the heel of his palm. "Cum on my cock. Soak me."
Izuku's back arched off the mattress, a silent scream on his lips as the orgasm shattered through him, a deep, full-body convulsion that milked Katsuki's cock in relentless pulses. He squirted again, a hot, gushing rush that spilled over Katsuki's hand and thighs, the wet sound obscenely loud in the quiet room.
The sensation tipped Katsuki over the edge. He drove in one last, deep time, burying himself to the hilt with a guttural groan, his own release pumping into Izuku's womb in thick, hot spurts that mixed with the slick mess between them. He collapsed, his weight a solid, anchoring presence, his softening cock still nestled inside as they both gasped for air.
He didn't pull out. Instead, he shifted them carefully onto their sides, wrapping an arm around Izuku's waist to keep him close, his front pressed to Izuku's back. He nuzzled into the sweaty green curls. "Not leaving," he promised, his voice a rough whisper. "Not until you're out."
Izuku nodded, boneless and spent. Katsuki's lips found his shoulder, then his neck—soft, closed-mouth kisses that held no hunger, just a steady, reassuring pressure. "Sleep," Katsuki murmured against his skin.
Izuku's breathing slowly evened out, his body going lax in Katsuki's hold. Katsuki kept kissing him, gentle touches to his temple, his jaw, until the last of the tension bled from Izuku's frame and he drifted off, safe and claimed in his new bed.
Katsuki stayed. He listened to Izuku's soft breaths, felt the slow, steady beat of his heart against his arm. The room smelled of sex and sweat and them. He stared at the moonlit outline of the dresser, at the cardboard box still half-unpacked in the corner. This complicated, dangerous, perfect boy was now living under his roof. In his employ. In his bed. The fantasy had metastasized into a reality that could burn his whole life down. And the terrifying part, the part that settled in his chest like a stone, was that he didn't want to put it out.
Katsuki was, against all logic and self-preservation, falling in love with the babysitter.