The door between the suites clicked open. Katsuki stepped through, his wedding suit jacket gone, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He froze.

Izuku was waiting. Propped against the headboard on his hotel bed, bathed in the low amber light of a single lamp. He wore white lace. A bridal set. The bralette was sheer, his pink nipples hard and visible through the web of it. The matching panties were a scrap of lace and silk, cut high on his hips, leaving his smooth thighs completely bare. He didn’t move. Just watched Katsuki’s face break.

Katsuki’s hand found the door behind him. He pushed it shut. The deadbolt slid home with a final, heavy sound. He didn’t turn around.

“She’s asleep,” Izuku said, his voice a soft, knowing thing in the quiet room. “Took her medication. Out before her head hit the pillow.”

“You checked.”

“Of course I did, Daddy.”

The name landed. It always did. Katsuki finally turned from the door. His red eyes were dark, stripped. He took in the room—the discarded jeans on a chair, the bottle of lube on the nightstand, the boy in white lace on the matrimonial bed. His throat worked.

“Why the getup?” Katsuki’s voice was gravel.

“It’s a wedding night.” Izuku shifted, the lace pulling tight across his crotch. “Someone should be wearing it.”

“You’re not my bride.”

“Aren’t I?” Izuku’s green eyes glinted. He lifted a hand, curled a finger. “Come here. Let me show you what you really married.”

Katsuki didn’t move. His chest rose and fell. The fight was gone. It had bled out of him in the gym, in the strip club bathroom, in front of the mirror this afternoon. All that was left was this terrible, quiet wanting. He crossed the room. The carpet muffled his steps. He stopped at the edge of the bed.

Izuku looked up at him. “You locked the door. You never lock it first.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Katsuki’s hand came up. It wasn’t a strike. It was a claim. His broad palm cradled Izuku’s jaw, his thumb brushing over a freckled cheek. He felt the shudder that went through the boy. He felt the answering throb in his own cock, thick and urgent against his fly.

“This is what you wanted,” Katsuki breathed, not a question.

“From the first second I saw you in our living room,” Izuku whispered, leaning into the touch. His lips parted. “You were so perfect for her. So handsome. So *good*. I wanted to ruin it. I wanted you to look at me like you’re looking at me right now.”

Katsuki’s other hand came up, framing Izuku’s face. He tilted it up. “And how am I looking at you?”

“Like you’re hungry,” Izuku gasped. “Like you’re finally done lying.”

Katsuki bent. He didn’t kiss him. He pressed his forehead to Izuku’s, their breath mingling. His eyes closed. “I can’t have this.”

“You already do.” Izuku’s hands came up, sliding over Katsuki’s wrists, feeling the rapid pulse there. “It’s done. You’re here. In my bed. On your wedding night.” He said the last words like a curse, like a sacrament. “Take what you want, Kacchan. I’m yours.”

A broken sound left Katsuki’s chest. He surrendered to it. He kissed him.

The kiss broke with a sharp gasp—Izuku’s. Katsuki had bitten his bottom lip, hard enough to taste copper. He pulled back, his thumb swiping over the bead of blood welling there. Izuku’s green eyes were wide, his pupils blown. “Kacchan—”

“Shut up,” Katsuki growled, and kissed him again. This was nothing like before. This was teeth and tongue and possession, a hand fisting in green curls to tilt his head back, exposing his throat. Katsuki’s other hand slid down, palming the lace-covered curve of Izuku’s ass, grinding their hips together. He could feel Izuku’s hot pussy through the silk, and beneath it, the wet heat of him.

“You like that,” Katsuki breathed against his mouth. It wasn’t a question. “You like it rough. You’ve been begging for it.”

Izuku moaned, arching into the touch. His hands scrabbled at Katsuki’s shirt, pulling it from his trousers. “Yes. God, yes. Show me.”

Katsuki ripped the white lace bralette. The sound of tearing fabric was obscene in the quiet room. Izuku cried out, not in protest, but in pure, shocked delight. His small chest was bare, nipples peaked and flushed. Katsuki ducked his head, taking one into his mouth, sucking hard. Izuku’s back bowed off the bed, a choked sob escaping him.

“Daddy—please—”

“What do you want?” Katsuki bit the junction of his neck and shoulder, marking him. His hands were everywhere, tearing the remnants of the panties away, exposing the shaved, glistening cunt beneath. Izuku was soaked. The scent of him—musky, sweet, utterly male—filled Katsuki’s lungs. It was the smell of his own ruin. He loved it.

“You,” Izuku panted, his thighs falling open in blatant invitation. His fingers dug into Katsuki’s shoulders. “Inside. I want you inside me. On your wedding night. In her son’s bed.”

Katsuki reared back, kneeling between Izuku’s spread legs. He unbuckled his belt, the leather sliding free with a hiss. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, the head already wet. Izuku’s gaze locked on it, hungry. “Look at you,” Izuku whispered, reverent. “All for me.”

“All for you,” Katsuki echoed, the admission tearing out of him. He leaned forward, not entering yet, just rubbing the broad head of his cock through Izuku’s slick folds. The boy whimpered, his hips bucking. “You’re dripping.”

“For you,” Izuku gasped. “Always for you. I get so wet thinking about you. About this.”

Katsuki positioned himself. The head of his cock nudged at Izuku’s entrance. He watched the fluttering muscle, the way Izuku held his breath. He didn’t push. Not yet. “Tell me,” he commanded, his voice ragged. “Tell me who I’m fucking.”

Izuku’s eyes, hazy with want, focused on his. A tear tracked through his freckles. He smiled, a broken, beautifu thing. “Your stepson,” he breathed. “Your bride.”

“My son,” Katsuki growled, and he slammed his entire length into him in one brutal, shearing thrust.

Izuku screamed. It wasn’t pain. It was pure, shattered ecstasy. His back arched off the mattress, his nails raking down Katsuki’s forearms. “Fuck—Kacchan—!”

Katsuki buried himself to the hilt, his heavy balls slapping against Izuku’s ass. The heat was obscene. The tight, clenching wetness was everything he’d tried not to dream about. He stayed there, trembling, buried inside his stepson, letting them both feel the full, impossible reality of it. “This,” he panted, his voice raw. “This is what you are now. Mine.”

“Yours,” Izuku sobbed, his green eyes wild. “Daddy, please, move—fuck me, fuck your son—”

Katsuki pulled out until just the tip remained, then drove back in with a punishing snap of his hips. The wet slap of skin filled the room. He set a ruthless, driving pace from the first, no gentle buildup, just the raw claim of it. Each thrust punched a choked sound from Izuku’s throat.

“You feel that?” Katsuki grunted, his hands gripping Izuku’s hips hard enough to bruise. “That’s my cock in your cunt. This is what you begged for.”

“Yes—!” Izuku cried, his head thrashing on the pillow. His legs wrapped around Katsuki’s waist, heels digging into the small of his back, pulling him deeper. “Harder—give it to me harder, Daddy, I can take it—”

Katsuki obliged. He fucked him like he was trying to break something, each thrust jarring the bedframe against the wall. The slick, wet sounds of their joining were filthy, rhythmic. Sweat beaded on his chest, dripped onto Izuku’s trembling stomach. “Look at you,” Katsuki snarled. “Soaking my dick. Dripping for your stepfather on his wedding night.”

“You love it,” Izuku gasped, his own hands fisting in the sheets. “You love how fucking wet I get for you. Admit it.”

“I do.” The confession was ripped from him. Katsuki leaned down, capturing Izuku’s mouth in a biting kiss. “I love this dirty little cunt,” he breathed against his lips, pounding into him. “I love that it’s mine.”

Izuku’s moans turned into a continuous, broken stream. “Yours—only yours, Kacchan, I’ve never—God, right there, please, right there—!”

Katsuki shifted his angle, driving up, and Izuku shattered. A sharp, ragged cry tore from him as his pussy clenched in a vicious, fluttering rhythm around Katsuki’s cock. Heat gushed between them, soaking the sheets—Izuku’s release, squirting out around the relentless thrusts. The scent of it, musky and sweet, flooded the air.

“That’s it,” Katsuki rasped, fucking him through it, his own control fraying. “Cum my all over your daddy’s cock. Show me how much you needed it.”

Izuku went boneless beneath him, whimpering through the aftershocks, his body still involuntarily clenching. His eyes were glazed, tears cutting tracks through his freckles. “Don’t stop,” he begged, voice wrecked. “Please, don’t stop, I need you to come in me—”

Katsuki’s rhythm faltered. The pressure was coiling, unbearable, at the base of his spine. He was close. He drove in deep and stayed, grinding against him, his forehead dropping to Izuku’s shoulder. “You want that?” he gasped. “You want me to fill up my son?”

Izuku’s hand came up, tangled in his sweaty hair. He pulled until Katsuki looked him in the eye. “Yes,” he whispered, fierce and ruined. “Mark me. On her wedding night. Let me feel it for days.”

A final, guttural groan was torn from Katsuki’s chest. He thrust once, twice more, then buried himself to the root as his orgasm ripped through him. Heat pulsed from him in thick, relentless waves, spilling deep inside Izuku’s clutching body. He shook with it, his vision whiting out at the edges, every muscle locked in a vice of impossible pleasure and utter damnation.

Katsuki didn't stop. Even as his own climax still pulsed through him, he kept moving, his hips rolling in a brutal, grinding rhythm, his cock still hard and buried deep inside Izuku’s fluttering heat. “You take it,” he growled, his voice shredded. “You take every fucking drop.”

Izuku sobbed, oversensitive and shaking. “Daddy—”

“I said take it.” Katsuki fucked into him again, a hard, shallow thrust that made Izuku cry out. His own release was a warm, slick mess between them, mixing with Izuku’s. The smell was primal, possessive. “My cock’s still in your cunt. You don’t get to come down yet.”

“I can’t—it’s too much—” Izuku gasped, but his legs tightened around Katsuki’s waist, holding him in.

“You can.” Katsuki leaned down, catching Izuku’s lower lip between his teeth. “You wanted this. You wanted me to ruin you. So fucking take it.” He began to move again, a slower, deeper pace now, each thrust a deliberate, grinding punishment. His heavy balls slapped against Izuku’s ass, the sound obscenely wet.

Izuku’s head fell back, a broken moan tearing from his throat. His hands slid down Katsuki’s sweat-slick back, nails digging in. “You feel… so big. God, you’re still so hard.”

“I’m not done with you.” Katsuki’s rhythm built again, turning ruthless. The bedframe slammed against the wall with each drive of his hips. “Look at you. My son. Dripping with my cum.”

“Yours,” Izuku chanted, his eyes glazed. “All yours, Daddy, only yours—”

Katsuki shifted, hooking Izuku’s legs over his shoulders, bending him almost in half. The new angle was devastating. Izuku screamed, his back arching off the mattress as Katsuki pistoned into him, each thrust hitting a spot that made his vision whiten. “There—right there—!”

“You gonna squirt again for me?” Katsuki grunted, his own breath coming in ragged gasps. “You gonna make another mess on your daddy’s cock?”

“Yes—yes, please, I’m gonna—!” Izuku’s words dissolved into a high, shattered wail as his body convulsed. A fresh gush of heat soaked Katsuki’s thrusting length, Izuku’s release squirting out around him in a hot, silken flood. The sheets beneath them were drenched.

Katsuki fucked him through it, his own orgasm building again, a tight, angry coil in his gut. He was lost in it now—the heat, the wet, the forbidden rightness of his cock in this boy’s body. “That’s it,” he snarled. “Good boy. So fucking good for me.”

Izuku was sobbing openly now, tears and sweat and spit smearing his freckled cheeks. He was utterly wrecked, beautifully broken. “Don’t stop, don’t ever stop, Daddy, I need it—”

“You need it?” Katsuki hauled him up, turning him onto his stomach without slipping out. He draped himself over Izuku’s back, his mouth at his ear. “You need your stepfather’s cock in your cunt on his wedding night?”

“Yes,” Izuku whimpered, pushing his ass back, taking him deeper. “I need it. I’ve always needed it.”

Katsuki’s hand fisted in green curls, pulling Izuku’s head back. He set a punishing, animal pace, his hips a relentless machine. The slap of skin was loud, rhythmic, a brutal music. “Then you’ve got it,” he breathed, his voice a dark promise. “You’ve got me. You broke me. This is what you get.”

Katsuki’s hand came down on the pale curve of Izuku’s ass with a sharp, stinging crack. The flesh jiggled with the impact, a red handprint blooming instantly against the freckled skin. He watched it, mesmerized, as he fucked into him with a brutal, piston-like rhythm. Izuku’s pussy was a sopping, clenching heat around his cock, and with every driving thrust, a little jet of clear fluid spurted out, painting the backs of his own thighs and the ruined sheets.

The room was a chorus of wet, slapping filth: skin on skin, the squelch of his penetration, their ragged breaths. “Look at that,” Katsuki growled, his voice gravel. “Your cunt’s making a fucking mess. Can’t even hold it in.”

“It’s—it’s yours,” Izuku choked, his face mashed into the pillow. “You’re making me… God, Kacchan, don’t stop—”

Katsuki spanked him again, harder. “Daddy.”

Izuku sobbed. “Daddy. You’re making me cum, Daddy!”

He set a pace that was pure punishment, his hips a relentless machine. He watched the obscene union, his thick cock glistening, vanishing into the slick, hairless fold, then pulling back shiny with both their releases. Each withdrawal was followed by another gush from Izuku’s overstimulated body. The scent was overpowering—sex, sweat, salt, and the sweet musk of him.

“You see it?” Katsuki demanded, his hand gripping the nape of Izuku’s neck, holding him down. “See what you do? You ruin everything you touch.”

“Only for you,” Izuku gasped, pushing back against him, taking him deeper. “I only ruin things for you.”

The admission punched the air from Katsuki’s lungs. His rhythm faltered for a single, devastating second. Then he drove in deeper, leaning over Izuku’s back, his mouth at his ear. “You ruined me. You know that?”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I ruined you,” Izuku whispered, the words a broken chant. “I broke you. You’re mine now.”

Katsuki fucked him through the confession, his own climax a distant, gathering storm. He was spent, but his cock was still hard, a traitorous part of him that refused to quit. He was fucking his stepson’s dripping cunt on the bed where his bride should be, and it felt more like a consummation than any ring or vow ever could.

The brutal pace finally began to slow, not from lack of want, but from sheer physical exhaustion. Katsuki’s thrusts became heavier, deeper, a grinding possession. He collapsed forward, his sweat-slick chest plastered to Izuku’s back, his forehead pressed between the boy’s shoulder blades. The room was silent except for their labored breathing and the wet sound of his cock still moving inside him.

“I can feel you,” Izuku murmured, his voice hazy with spent pleasure. “Pulsing. Still so hard. You’re not done, are you?”

Katsuki didn’t answer. He just rolled his hips, a slow, deep circle that made Izuku shiver.

“You could stay,” Izuku said, so softly it was almost lost in the sheets. “All night. She won’t wake up.”

That was the final threshold. Not another orgasm. The offer. The open door to the rest of his damned life.

Katsuki went utterly still, buried inside him. The clock’s blue glow cut across their tangled limbs. He could feel Izuku’s heartbeat through his back, frantic against his own. He closed his eyes. In the dark behind his lids, he didn’t see his wife. He saw the gym floor. The bathroom mirror. The white rose. This bed.

He didn’t pull out.

Katsuki’s climax tore through him with a final, brutal force. He slammed deep, grinding his hips against Izuku’s ass, and emptied himself. His cock pulsed thickly, again and again, painting Izuku’s insides with a scalding flood. A ragged, animal sound ripped from his throat, muffled against the sweat-slick skin of Izuku’s back.

Izuku shuddered beneath him, a fresh, weak jet of fluid leaking out around Katsuki’s still-throbbing length. “Daddy,” he whimpered, the word a broken exhale. “I feel it… so hot…”

They collapsed together into the soaked ruin of the sheets, a tangled heap of trembling limbs. The only sounds were their ragged, gulping breaths. Katsuki’s entire body felt hollowed out, weightless and heavy all at once.

He didn’t move away. His arm was slung possessively over Izuku’s waist, his face still buried between the boy’s shoulder blades. The smell of them was everywhere—sex, salt, and the distinct, musky scent of his own release leaking from Izuku’s body.

Izuku shifted weakly, pressing his ass back against Katsuki’s hips. A pathetic, needy noise escaped him. “Still… hard,” he mumbled, his voice slurred with exhaustion. “You’re still… Kacchan, you’re still there.”

He was right. Despite the mind-numbing orgasm, a low, persistent thrum of arousal still hummed in Katsuki’s blood. His cock, spent and sensitive, lay heavy against Izuku’s thigh, already twitching back to life. It was a traitorous, hungry thing.

“Shut up,” Katsuki muttered, but his hips gave a shallow, involuntary grind against the curve of Izuku’s ass.

Izuku let out a trembling sigh. “Can’t. You’re still in me. I can feel you… getting hard again.” He reached a shaky hand behind him, fingers brushing Katsuki’s hip. “Do it. Just… move. Please.”

Katsuki’s jaw tightened. He was disgusted with himself. With the way his body responded to the pathetic plea. He rolled his hips again, a slow, deliberate drag that made Izuku arch and whine. His cock, half-hard and slick with their mixed fluids, nudged against Izuku’s swollen, dripping entrance.

“Look at you,” Katsuki breathed, his voice raw. “Begging for it after all that. Your cunt’s still greedy for me.”

“It’s yours,” Izuku whispered, pushing back. “It’s always been yours. From the first day you walked into our house.”

The admission hung in the blue-lit dark. Katsuki didn’t answer. He just thrusted, a slow, aching slide into the incredible, familiar heat. Izuku cried out, a sound of pure relief, and clenched around him tightly.

“Fuck,” Katsuki gasped, sinking to the hilt. He was fully hard again, impossibly, rooted deep in the ruin they’d made together. He didn’t move. He just stayed there, buried, his hand splayed over Izuku’s stomach. “This is what you wanted. This is what you broke.”

Izuku turned his head, his green eyes glassy in the dim light. “Stay,” he repeated, his voice clearer now. “Stay in me. All night. Let her wake up alone.”

Katsuki completely empties his balls into that begging for it throbbing pussy. Both shake uncontrollably and both collapse into the wet messy bed, gasping for breath. Katsuki’s cock still throbs in his greedy pussy, grinding against him making Izuku whimper pathetically. closed his eyes. The command was the final lock clicking into place. He gave one slow, grinding roll of his hips, a silent answer. He was staying.

Their mouths found each other in the dark, a slow, wet collision that was nothing like the violence before. Katsuki kissed him, deep and thorough, his hand cradling the back of Izuku’s head. Izuku melted into it with a soft, broken sound, his lips parting eagerly.

“Kacchan,” he breathed against Katsuki’s mouth.

“Shut up,” Katsuki murmured, but it lacked heat. He kissed him again, swallowing the word, his tongue sweeping in to claim the taste of him—salt, sweat, something uniquely Izuku. It was slow. It was tender. It felt like a vow.

Izuku’s hands came up, trembling, to frame Katsuki’s face. His thumbs brushed over the sharp cheekbones, the stubble. “You’re kissing me,” he whispered, awe and triumph mixing in his wrecked voice.

“I’m kissing you,” Katsuki confirmed, his voice a raw scrape. He didn’t stop. He kept kissing him, a long, drugging series of presses and sucks and shared breath, his hips still making tiny, unconscious rolls where they were joined. His softened cock was stirring again, thickening slowly inside the incredible, clinging heat.

“It should have been us,” Izuku said, the words a secret against Katsuki’s lips. “Downstairs. In the white. It should have been you and me.”

Katsuki went still. The words should have enraged him. They just felt true. He closed his eyes, his forehead resting against Izuku’s. “Don’t.”

“Why?” Izuku’s fingers tangled in his sweaty hair. “You’re here. You’re in me. You’re hard for me again. Tell me I’m wrong.”

He couldn’t. Katsuki’s answer was another kiss, deeper, desperate. He shifted, rolling them without breaking the connection, until Izuku was beneath him, his green curls fanning out on the ruined pillow. Katsuki settled between his thighs, his weight braced on his elbows, and looked down at him. The blue light cut across Izuku’s freckles, his swollen mouth, his glassy, victorious eyes.

“See?” Izuku whispered, his hips arching up, taking Katsuki impossibly deeper. “You see me.”

“I see you,” Katsuki admitted, the truth a stone in his throat. He began to move again, a slow, devastating rhythm that was about connection, not punishment. Each drag of his cock drew a soft, punched-out gasp from Izuku’s lips.

“Like this,” Izuku begged, his legs wrapping around Katsuki’s waist, locking him in. “Just like this. All night. Give me the wedding night she thinks she’s having.”

Katsuki obeyed. He fucked him with a relentless, worshipping slowness, his eyes locked on Izuku’s face. He watched every flutter of his lashes, every hitch in his breath. He learned the map of his pleasure all over again, as if this were the first time, as if they had a lifetime of this ahead.

“I hate you,” Katsuki breathed, thrusting deep.

Izuku’s smile was blinding, broken. “I know.” He reached between them, his fingers finding where they were joined, slick and stretched. “You feel it? How full I am? It’s all you. Only you.”

Katsuki’s control snapped. He drove into him, his rhythm fracturing into something needy and primal. The bed rocked against the wall with a steady, muffled thump. He was close again, a tight, coiling heat in his gut. “Come for me,” he commanded, his voice guttural. “Come on my cock like a good bride.”

The words undid Izuku completely. His back arched off the bed, a silent scream on his lips as his body clenched in a violent, pulsing rhythm. Warmth gushed between them, soaking Katsuki’s thighs, the sheets, a fresh flood of surrender.

Katsuki followed him over, his own release a deep, groaning rush that left him blind and shaking. He collapsed, his face buried in Izuku’s neck, his spent cock still spilling weakly inside him. They lay there, fused, drowning in the smell of sex and completion.

Long minutes later, Izuku stirred. His hand came up, stroking through Katsuki’s damp hair with a tenderness that was worse than any mockery. “You stayed,” he whispered.

Katsuki didn’t lift his head. He just turned it, his lips brushing the frantic pulse in Izuku’s throat. A kiss. An answer. A consummation.