Rivalry in the Sheets

What starts as a hostage situation spirals into something far more dangerous. Desire. Lines blur, morals shatter, and Katsuki finds himself tangled in the very thing he swore to destroy. Hero and villain. Enemies and something else entirely. In the darkness, the only thing burning brighter than their hatred, is the heat they can't escape.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

The comm buzzed in his ear, a faint crackle over the static.

“Dynamight, report. Any sign of the target?”

Katsuki pressed two fingers against his earpiece, eyes narrowing as he leaned against the cool brick wall. The alley smelled of smoke and city grime, faint neon light bleeding in from the street behind him. His pulse thudded with restless impatience, every nerve on edge.

He hadn’t been supposed to take this patrol, not originally. But the moment the agency caught wind of the green-haired man surfacing in the area, they’d called him in. Dynamight. Twenty-one years old, already one of the fastest-rising names in the hero charts. He didn’t ignore calls like this, not when the reports said the villain had left more than a handful of pro heroes laid out and in recovery. Katsuki wasn’t the type to let someone else handle it. Not when he could be the one to finish it.

“I’m in position,” he muttered low, keeping his voice steady, “but no sight of the villain.”

The villain. That’s all the agency had called him. Male, black suit, no jacket. Green hair. Dangerous. No other details, just a string of broken reports, property damage, and a few unlucky pros left injured enough to be pulled from active duty. Whoever this bastard was, he had the city on alert

Katsuki’s gloved hands flexed, itching for a fight. He hated the quiet. The stillness. It only ever meant one thing, someone was already watching him.

He shifted, inching toward the corner to scan the next stretch of alley. Nothing but shadows stacked on shadows.

Then, heat. A touch at his waist, firm and sudden. His body jolted, instincts firing, but before he could spin, a voice brushed the shell of his ear. Smooth. Mocking.

“What are you doing here, gorgeous? Were you looking for me?”

Katsuki whipped his head around, eyes wide, teeth bared. His breath caught at the sight, sharp green eyes gleaming in the dark, freckles carved in moonlight, a smile curved too dangerously close. Black suit clinging to him like sin, tie undone but deliberate, and hair wild and green as poison ivy.

The villain.

And he wasn’t running. He wasn’t fighting. He was holding Katsuki against him like they weren’t enemies, like they weren’t about to tear this alley apart.

“You—!” Katsuki’s palm was already sparking when the villain’s hand shot up, impossibly fast, and clamped down over his mouth.

“Mmph—!” Katsuki thrashed, teeth sinking against the gloved palm, but the grip only tightened. His vision swam, a sickly-sweet scent flooding his nose and burning through his lungs. His knees buckled, his strength bleeding out faster than he could fight it.

Through the haze, he caught a glimpse of those green eyes, mocking, glinting with victory.

The comm in his ear crackled wildly.
“Dynamight!! Respond! Dynamight!! Are you there?!”

He tried to force his body upright, to blast free, but his limbs wouldn’t obey. The world tilted, heavy and slow, before everything went black.

When his lashes fluttered closed, he was already in the villain’s arms. Cradled, as if he were something fragile. Something precious.

Deku smirked down at him, the shadows painting sharp lines across his face. “Cute…” he muttered to himself, voice a low hum of amusement.

Then, without looking away from his prize, he spoke into the silence.
“Kurogiri. Open a portal, please. I’m done here.”

The air tore open, a swirl of violet mist spilling out, casting eerie light on the alley walls. Deku stepped forward, adjusting Katsuki’s weight easily in his arms.

“I have something much more interesting to take with me.” His tone was light, but his grip was possessive, iron-clad.

As the mist swallowed them both, Katsuki’s comm continued to scream into the void,
“Dynamight!! Dynamight, are you there?!”

And then he was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The swirl of violet mist spit them out into dim light, the air thick with dust and smoke. The League’s hideout stretched before him, an abandoned bar twisted into a den for monsters.

Deku stepped calmly through the portal, adjusting the limp weight in his arms. Katsuki’s head lolled against his shoulder, sleeping mask still in place, blonde hair brushing against the black fabric of Deku's suit. He was unconscious, breath shallow but steady, sparks of stubborn energy still faintly buzzing under his skin.

Shigaraki was already waiting at the warped counter, pale fingers scratching at his neck. His lips stretched into a crooked grin the moment he laid eyes on the scene.

“Well, well…” His voice dripped with amusement. “Dynamight. The uncatchable little firecracker.” He chuckled, dry and mocking, tapping clawed fingers against the wood. “And you managed to snatch him up in one swipe.”

Deku smirked, stepping further inside and letting the portal close behind him. The room grew darker without its glow, shadows curling along the cracked walls.

“It wasn’t hard,” Deku replied casually, though his hold on Katsuki never wavered. His arms were steady, protective even, as if the pro hero wasn’t his enemy but something far more valuable. “He walked right into me.”

Shigaraki’s laugh scraped against the silence, harsher now. “Tch. The heroes won’t know what hit them.” His red eyes glinted with sick satisfaction. “We’ve been waiting to clip his wings for years. And you…” His smirk widened, sharp and cruel. “You just delivered him to us.”

Deku tilted his head, green curls falling over his forehead. His gaze dropped to Katsuki, studying the rise and fall of his chest. For a heartbeat too long, he said nothing.

Then, Deku speaks up.

“He’s mine. Been mine.”

The words carried a weight that didn’t belong in the chaos of the bar, soft, almost reverent, but threaded with something sharp that made Shigaraki gag. Deku's gaze never wavered, his green eyes glinting with a feverish kind of light, one that spoke of sleepless nights and too many hours spent in the dark, watching, waiting.

“I’ve followed him,” Deku murmured, tone low but cutting through the silence like a blade. “Not just here. Not just tonight. For years. Every fight he’s had, every headline, every little victory, mine to keep. Mine to savor. You all don’t even know how many times I’ve been there, watching from the shadows, close enough to touch but never close enough to spoil the moment.”

Shigaraki’s sneer twitched, but he said nothing. Deku went on, voice taking on a sickly sweetness, almost tender.

“Hs shines too bright for this world. Too bright for this city. They’ll burn him out, use him up, cheer his name until he collapses under the weight of it. But me?” He rests his forehead on Katsuki’s, curls falling into his eyes, and for a heartbeat, he looked almost gentle. “I’ll never let that happen. I’ll tear the world apart before I let them take him from me.”

The words dripped with devotion and threat in equal measure, a vow dressed up as a confession. Deku's smile curved slow and soft, at odds with the violence humming in the air.

“Kacchan doesn't see it yet,” he whispered, “but he’s already mine. Every scar, every breath, every piece of him, I’ve been keeping them safe. For me. For us.”

Shigaraki tilted his head, his grin twisting across his face like cracked glass.

“You’re a freak you know that?” he rasped, voice gravel scraping against stone. Then he shrugged, nonchalant, like it meant nothing at all. “Perfect for our league.” Shigaraki goes on, “Hand him over. I’ll tie him up.”

Deku's smirk immediately soured into a scowl. He shifted Katsuki higher in his arms, holding him tighter, the stubborn streak in his eyes flashing.
“No way.”

Shigaraki blinked, then barked a laugh. “What are you, five? He’s not a toy, Deku. He’s leverage. Pass him here.” He stretched out a hand expectantly, fingers twitching.

Deku scoffed outright, stepping back. “I said no. You’d probably scratch him up before we even get to question him.” His tone dripped with irritation, but there was something else buried there too, something protective, possessive.

That made Shigaraki’s smile twitch, narrowing at the edges. “Tch. You’re too attached.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Deku shot back, turning his body so Katsuki’s limp form was shielded. “I caught him. That means I get first say.”

Within seconds, they were circling each other like kids in a schoolyard spat, voices rising.
“I’m the leader here—”
“And I’m the one who got him—”
“You don’t even know how to attach these chains—”
“Oh, like you do?”

On and on it went, two dangerous men arguing over who got the honor of restraining Dynamight, who hung limply between them like some kind of prize doll.

From her perch on the counter, Toga groaned dramatically and dropped her head into her hands.
“Ughhh. You two sound like children fighting over a crush.”

Neither Deku nor Shigaraki paid her any mind. Their bickering continued.

The arguing hit its peak when Shigaraki’s patience finally snapped. With a sharp lunge, his hand shot forward, not the crumbling touch of decay, but a forceful grab, and he yanked Katsuki right out of Deku's arms.

“Hey—!” Deku's voice cracked into a growl, fists curling at his sides. Shigaraki was rough, Katsuki’s head jerking back as his limp body was dragged across the room like a ragdoll.

For just a second, something dark surged in Deku's chest. His eyes narrowed, burning with that sharp green glow, his quirk sparking faintly across his skin. The air around him grew heavy, suffocating, every inch of him screaming to lash out.

That was when a hand slid into his path, calm, steady, but firm. Dabi, leaning lazily against the wall, didn’t even look at him as he raised one arm like a barricade. His voice came low, unbothered.
“Knock it off, kid. Don’t start a pissing contest you can’t finish.”

Deku's jaw clenched, the glow dimming reluctantly. His glare never left Shigaraki.

The leader didn’t notice, or even cared. He hauled Katsuki toward the far wall, with a gleeful chuckle, Shigaraki shoved him into the chair, metal rattling as cold cuffs clamped down around his wrists and ankles, with a big chain around his waist. And most importantly, big metal blocks around his hands. Quirk blockers.

“There we go,” Shigaraki said, brushing dust off his hands as though he’d accomplished something delicate. “Hero Dynamight, all wrapped up nice and neat.”

Katsuki’s head lolled forward, hair shadowing his eyes, still lost in unconsciousness. The chains groaned as if mocking him, a reminder of how thoroughly trapped he was.

Deku's fists were still trembling at his sides, his villain stare was sharp enough to cut glass, but he stayed quiet, if only barely.

He walked and crouched in front of the chair, fingers brushing against the heavy restraints digging into Katsuki’s wrists. His eyes dilated at the sight, Katsuki slumped forward, chained like an animal on display.

With a soft click, he tugged the edge of Katsuki’s mask loose and peeled it away, letting cool air wash over his pale face. “Wake up sooner pretty,” Deku muttered under his breath, low enough only Katsuki could hear, though he knew it was pointless, he was still out cold. Deku's thumb lingered a moment too long against his cheek before he forced himself to stand.

He turned sharply toward Shigaraki, eyes narrowed. “So what’s the plan? What do you want with him?”

Shigaraki’s fingers drummed lazily against the arm of the couch, dust flaking beneath his nails as he smirked. “What do you think? He’s bait. A shiny little symbol of victory for the world to panic over. They can’t ignore us if we dangle their golden boy over a fire.”

Deku's stare hardened, green eyes glowing faintly as if the question had awakened something dangerous in him. His fists curled, nails biting into his palms, but he didn’t say anything. Not yet.

Behind them, Toga let out a dreamy sigh, twirling a knife between her fingers. “I think he looks even cuter tied up, honestly. Don’t you, Izu~?”

Deku couldn’t help it. He hated the chains, hated the way Katsuki was on display for the league, but God, he couldn’t lie to himself. Toga was right. Katsuki did look cute like this.

Slouched in the chair, hands bound, head tilted forward just enough for messy blonde hair to curtain his face. The defiance was still there, simmering even in unconsciousness, but stripped down, restrained, it made him look fragile in a way Deku had never seen.

Deku crouched down slowly, his gloved hands rising to cradle Katsuki’s face. His thumbs brushed over sharp cheekbones, the rough rub of calloused fingers against skin still warm from battle. He tilted Katsuki’s head back just enough to see the faint flicker of his lashes, the stubborn line of his mouth.

“You are cuter like this,” Deku whispered, too soft for anyone but Katsuki to hear, if he could even hear at all. His touch lingered, rubbing slow circles into pale cheeks like Katsuki might wake just from the gentleness of it.

A low groan cut through the moment.
“Ugh. Keep it in your pants, Deku.”

Deku didn’t move, though the corner of his mouth twitched. Shigaraki was sprawled against the couch, his red eyes gleaming with annoyance as he scratched at his neck.

“You’re acting like we dragged Dynamight in here for a date, not a damn hostage,” he muttered. “Cut it out before I puke.”

Deku finally let go, straightening with a scoff but not before giving Katsuki’s cheek one last brush with his thumb. His eyes stayed fixed on the bound hero, burning with a quiet obsession.

Because no matter what Shigaraki said, this wasn’t just a hostage. Not to him. He was finally able to have the man he stalked for ages in his arms. He will not be giving this up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A groan tore its way out of Katsuki’s throat before his eyes even opened. His head throbbed like it had been split in two, a dull pounding behind his skull that made the edges of his vision swim. Every muscle felt heavy, like lead, like his body wasn’t his own.

He forced his eyes open anyway, blinking hard against the dim, hazy light. The first thing he saw was green.

A mess of wild curls. Bright, sharp eyes watching him with unnerving intensity. Too close. Hovering.

Katsuki’s chest seized. His breath caught, and when he tried to lurch forward, metal rattled, sharp and cold against his wrists. He froze, realization sinking in with ice in his veins.

Chains. Heavy, bolted. His hands pinned together, ankles cuffed to the chair legs.

“What the—” His voice cracked, rough and hoarse. “What the hell happened—?!”

A chuckle rippled through the room. Katsuki’s gaze snapped sideways, and his stomach dropped.

The League. All of them.

Shigaraki slouched across a couch, scratching lazily at his neck, red eyes glittering. Toga leaned on the counter, dreamy grin plastered across her face as she twirled a knife. Dabi loomed in the corner, cigarette glow lighting half his face in lazy orange.

And front and center, his kidnapper. The green-haired bastard in the black suit. Watching him like he was some rare animal on display.

Katsuki’s pulse roared in his ears.
“What the fuck.”

“Finally awake,” Deku said softly, voice smooth as silk, almost gentle. His head tilted just slightly, curls falling over one eye as he leaned forward, still crouched too close for comfort. “You were out for a while, Kacchan. I was starting to get worried.”

The nickname made Katsuki’s blood spike hotter than his headache. His teeth bared instantly, a snarl ripping from his throat.
“Don’t you dare call me that, you damn freak!”

The chains groaned as he jerked against them, explosions sparking faintly in his palms before fizzling, the cuffs blocked his quirk. He yanked harder, metal clanging, muscles straining.
“Let me out of this chair right now or I’ll—”

Deku only smiled, calm in the face of the storm, as if Katsuki’s fury were nothing more than wind brushing past him. His hands reached out, steady, bold, cupping Katsuki’s face again like he had before.

“Shh. You’ll hurt yourself,” he murmured, thumbs brushing over sharp cheekbones, soothing when he had no right to be. “You’re not going anywhere yet.”

Katsuki recoiled as much as the chains would allow, a flush of anger burning across his face. “The hell I won’t! I’ll kill you the second I’m free!”

Shigaraki groaned from the couch, dragging his nails along his jawline.
“God, you two are loud. Can’t even have a proper hostage without it sounding like a lover’s quarrel.”

Toga giggled, twirling her knife. “It kinda is, though. Don’t they look cute like that?”

Deku ignored them both, his gaze locked solely on Katsuki’s wild, furious glare. And though Katsuki fought, snarled, threatened, Deku’s grip on his face didn’t falter, if anything, it tightened, like he wanted to keep him right there forever.

“You’re mine now,” Deku whispered, so quiet only Katsuki could hear.

Katsuki’s heart lurched despite himself.

His growls rattled in his chest, the chains clinking with every furious jerk. Deku didn’t flinch. Instead, he shifted smoothly, stepping around the chair until he was behind Katsuki, gloved palms never once leaving his skin. His hands slid along his jaw, thumbs tracing idle lines against the sharp curve of his cheeks. Even when Katsuki tried to twist away, Deku’s grip lingered, touching, holding, claiming.

“Get your damn hands off me!” Katsuki barked, thrashing hard enough that the iron bolts squealed in the concrete.

But Deku only leaned closer, curls brushing against his temple as if they were alone in the room. “No,” he said simply, voice low, final.

Shigaraki cleared his throat, dragging long nails across his neck until flakes of skin dusted his hoodie. His red eyes glinted as he leaned forward on the couch, grin spreading.

“You’re probably wondering why you’re here, Dynamight.” His tone was almost mocking, drawn-out and cruel. “Why I told Deku to bring you to us.”

“Deku?” Katsuki spat, whipping his head toward the voice as far as Deku’s hands would let him. “That’s your stupid villain name?”

Deku’s grip tightened, not painful but firm, forcing Katsuki to look forward again.

Shigaraki chuckled, raspy and sharp. “We won't kill you. Not yet, anyway. You’re leverage. A bargaining chip. A top hero like you, a symbol of victory, you just make the perfect bait. We’ll watch the world scramble, desperate to save their precious Dynamight.”

Katsuki’s chest heaved, fury burning so hot it nearly drowned out the ache in his head. “You think I’m just some pawn?!” His explosions sparked uselessly in his palms, cuffed and smothered. “I’ll blow this whole damn place to ash the second I’m free!”

Shigaraki tilted his head, amused. “That’s exactly what we’re counting on.”

Behind him, Deku's hands stroked gently over Katsuki’s cheekbones, anchoring him in place, eyes half-lidded with something far more dangerous than Shigaraki’s glee.

Deku wasn’t listening to the plan. He was listening to Katsuki’s heartbeat hammering beneath his skin.

Katsuki kept yanking at the chains, but his strength was running in circles, every tug only rattled the chair, every spark fizzled out before it could burn. He hated feeling weak. Hated feeling trapped.

But what he hated most was how his body reacted to him.

Deku’s hands lingered on his face, thumbs brushing slow arcs across his cheekbones, steady as if they belonged there. It should have made Katsuki’s skin crawl. Should’ve had him spitting curses until his throat was raw.

And yet…

Damn it.

It had been years since anyone touched him like this. Katsuki Bakugou, 21 years old, Pro Hero Dynamight, too busy, too stubborn, too explosive to ever let someone close. He’d never dated, never even had a fling. His whole life was training, fighting, winning. He was still a virgin, for God’s sake. Relationships had always been something he shoved to the sidelines, convinced he didn’t need them.

But now, even though he's chained to a chair in a villain’s den, his kidnapper’s hands cradling his face like he was something precious,

It felt… kind of nice.

His chest burned with shame the moment the thought crossed his mind.
What the hell is wrong with me? He’s a villain. Someone I should hate. Someone I should lock up and throw away the key.

The warmth of Deku’s gloved palms pressed against his skin mocked him, made his pulse trip faster despite his fury. He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth until they ached, trying to bury the treacherous spark of comfort curling in his chest.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud. Ever. But for the first time in years, Katsuki felt the cracks of touch-starvation bleeding through. Hell that scared him worse than the chains.

He snapped, his voice rough and biting, even with Deku’s fingers still ghosting over his jaw.

“Get your filthy hands off me, Deku. You’re disgusting, pathetic! You think this is gonna make me forget you’re just some villain’s dog? You should’ve rotted on the streets instead of wasting everyone’s time!”

Deku didn’t flinch. If anything, his grin widened, dark and adoring, like Katsuki had just whispered a confession instead of a threat.

“You always say the sweetest things, Kacchan,” Deku murmured, thumbs stroking his cheekbones, ignoring the way Katsuki tried to jerk back. “It’s okay… I know you don’t mean it. Not really.” His voice dipped, affectionate but twisted. “You don’t have to admit it yet. I’ll wait.”

Katsuki bared his teeth. “Like hell you will! I’ll never—”

Shigaraki’s dry chuckle cut through the room. “Tch. Noisy little hero. Maybe I should gag him. Save us all from the barking.”

Katsuki shot him a death glare, chest heaving, but Deku only leaned closer, like he was shielding him. “No,” he said softly, his eyes still locked on Katsuki. “I want to hear everything he has to say. Every insult. Every scream.” He tilted his head, smiling. “Even if he hates me, at least he’s talking to me.”

Spinner groaned from where he leaned against the wall, rolling his eyes like he was bored to death. “What the hell are we even doing here? Villain slumber party? Just let Deku drag him to the back and fuck him already. At least then we’d all get some peace and quiet.” His grin was sharp, voice dripping with mockery, but there was a dangerous undertone that made Katsuki’s stomach drop.

Deku’s head snapped up immediately, eyes sparking with something unhinged, lips parting like the thought had genuinely just occurred to him. He turned back to Katsuki, fingers tightening against his skin, pupils blown wide. “That wouldn’t be so bad, right, Kacchan?” His voice was low, eager, hopeful. Too hopeful.

Katsuki froze, fury and dread twisting in his chest. His pulse thundered in his ears.

“No.” Shigaraki’s rasp cut through the air like a blade, sharp and final. He didn’t even look at Spinner, though his hand twitched like he’d enjoy dusting him for the comment. “We wait. The news should be reporting any minute now that Dynamight has gone missing. That’s when the real fun begins.”

Deku’s lips pulled into a pout, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he turned his attention back to Katsuki, smiling too sweetly, too intensely, as though he was promising him that Spinner’s suggestion wasn’t off the table.

A little later, the TV in the corner was blaring with urgency, news anchors going on about Pro Hero Dynamight missing in action, last seen on patrol. Speculation, panic, maps flashing red.

Deku didn’t care. Not one bit.

He sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Katsuki, green eyes locked on him with unnerving devotion. His thumb lazily stroked over the chains biting into Katsuki’s wrist. Then, suddenly, he leaned forward, voice dropping.

“So, Kacchan…” his grin was crooked, too casual. “You ever let anyone tie you up before?”

Katsuki’s face twisted with disgust. He rolled his eyes so hard it almost hurt and let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Go to hell.”

Undeterred, Deku tilted his head, eyes glittering. “What about… kissing? You ever been kissed? Bet you taste—”

“Shut up, freak.” Katsuki snarled, lip curling, his voice hoarse from yelling earlier.

Deku pouted, the childish dip of his mouth looking heartbreakingly genuine. He sighed, shifting where he sat, and then, without warning, rested his cheek against Katsuki’s thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world. His arms draped lazily over Katsuki’s knees, eyes staring up with open adoration.

“…Fine. Don’t answer that.” His voice softened. “Tell me about you instead. Your apartment. What you eat for breakfast. If you sleep with the window open. Anything.” Even though Deku already knew, he obviously couldn't let Katsuki know he’d been stalking him.

Katsuki’s whole body went rigid, heart hammering, his mind screaming at him that this was wrong, villains weren’t supposed to ask about your life like they cared. But Deku looked so content just leaning there, like they were more.

Katsuki clenched his jaw, lips pressed in a tight line. Silence. He wasn’t going to give this freak anything. Not a scrap of information, not even the satisfaction of a snort.

Deku’s cheek stayed against his thigh, his arms curling tighter around Katsuki’s legs as if holding him there. His voice came quieter now, almost trembling with sincerity.

“…Please, Kacchan. Just something. I want to know you.”

That tone made Katsuki’s chest ache in a way he hated. It didn’t sound like a villain fishing for bait, it sounded like a lonely boy asking for a piece of him. And maybe Katsuki did want someone to want his stories, his life, his ordinary stupid details.

But he wasn’t about to break.

His head tipped back against the chains with a dull thud, jaw locked. “Go. To. Hell.”

Deku lifted his face then, staring at him with a creepy glare. His eyes glimmered, searching Katsuki’s expression. He leaned in closer, both hands sliding down Katsuki’s thighs until his fingers curled just above the hero’s knees.

“I’m not your enemy,” he whispered like it was a plea, even though it was the biggest lie of all. “Not really. If you’d just talk to me, I’d prove it.”

Katsuki yanked at the chains hard enough to make them rattle, rage fueling every muscle. “You kidnapped me, you psycho. That’s all I need to know.”

“…Then I’ll wait. You’ll tell me eventually.” Deku hummed, pushing up from Katsuki’s legs, turning so his back rested against them instead. His green curls brushed Katsuki’s knees, and instead of staring at him with that suffocating devotion, his attention slid to the others.

“See?” Deku muttered, addressing Shigaraki, Toga, Dabi, anyone but Katsuki. “They’re already panicking. Dynamight disappears for one night and the whole city loses it.”

The TV rattled on about heroes mobilizing, search efforts underway, the public demanding answers. Katsuki barely heard any of it. His eyes stayed glued to the crown of Izuku’s head, the dark-green strands that tickled his pants leg whenever Deku shifted.

Why wasn’t he looking at him? Why wasn’t he touching him?

It shouldn’t matter. He should be relieved. The villain’s focus was off him for once. He could breathe without someone’s hands on his skin, without those psycho eyes boring into him.

So why did his chest feel hollow, tight, like something had been yanked out the second Deku leaned away?

Katsuki swallowed hard, eyes burning holes into the curve of Deku’s neck. What the hell is wrong with me?

When Deku laughed at something Shigaraki said, Katsuki’s teeth ground together, sharp and bitter. He hated that the sound wasn’t directed at him. Hated that the villain who had stolen his freedom so easily was now withholding the only warmth Katsuki had felt in years.

And even worse, he hated that he cared.

The League kept talking, laughing, bickering over plans. The TV blared. Deku leaned comfortably against Katsuki’s legs, watching the others with a lazy smirk, as if the chained-up pro hero behind him had already stopped mattering.

Katsuki’s throat worked as he glared down at him. His chest ached. He hated this silence, hated how his stupid brain kept circling back to the questions Deku had asked earlier.

He didn’t even realize the words were slipping out until his voice broke the air, low, gruff, almost shy.

“…I don’t eat breakfast.”

Deku smirked, eyes shifting towards Katsuki. Slowly, carefully, he turned to look at Katsuki, immediately making eye contact.

“What was that?”

Katsuki’s face flushed hot, and he immediately yanked against the chains as if that could take the words back. He looked away, jaw clenched, muttering through his teeth.

“I get… morning sickness. So I don’t eat. Not in the morning.”

Deku stared at him like he’d just been handed the most precious gift in the world. His lips parted, trembling with a smile that was too soft for a villain’s face. He rose up onto his knees, leaning closer again, his hands hovering before daring to cup Katsuki’s jaw.

“Kacchan,..” he praised, cheekiness in his voice. “Youre warming up!!”

Katsuki whipped his face away, cheeks burning. “Shut up. It doesn’t mean anything.”

But Deku was glowing. Absolutely glowing. It was like a switch had flipped, he was right back where he belonged, leaning into Katsuki’s space, hands warm against his face, eyes glittering with shameless adoration. It's obvious he's very bipolar.

“Aw Kacchan, tell me more,” Deku begged, voice soft but relentless. “Anything. Your favorite food. What time you go to sleep. What songs you like. I’ll take anything.”

Katsuki growled, jerking his head away, the chains rattling hard against the chair. “Get off me and shut the hell up.”

From the couch, Toga groaned loudly, flopping back dramatically. “Ughhh, he’s so annoying when he’s in love. Can’t you two just kiss already so I don’t have to hear this?”

“Gross,” Dabi muttered, sighing.

Even Shigaraki sighed, muttering something about “children” under his breath.

But Deku didn’t care. He leaned even closer, practically climbing into Katsuki’s lap despite the hero’s growls, rubbing his thumb against Katsuki’s cheek like it was impossible to stop touching him. “Please, Kacchan. Just one more thing. I’ll be good if you tell me. I swear.”

Katsuki’s teeth ground together, fury blazing in his eyes as he snapped, “I said shut it!”

The words came sharp and cutting, but underneath all the rage was something he didn’t dare admit.

Deep down, buried under layers of denial and disgust, he liked it. The attention. The way Deku’s entire world seemed to orbit around him. He liked being wanted.

And that was the most dangerous thought of all.

Why the hell did he crave it from a villain who had chained him here just to spark chaos?

Why did it feel so good to be seen, when he should only feel hatred?

The news anchor’s voice cut off mid-sentence with a sharp click. The TV screen went black.

Shigaraki stood, cracking his neck, satisfied. “That’s enough. The whole damn city’s panicking, heroes scrambling like ants. Perfect.” His crimson eyes flicked toward Katsuki, then narrowed at the sight of Deku practically draped over him.

With a scoff, he strode over and shoved Izuku back hard, peeling him away from Katsuki’s chair. “And you—keep it in. your. pants. You’re acting pathetic. I shouldn't have to tell you again.”

Katsuki swallowed softly at the sudden space between them, heat cooling on his skin where Izuku’s hands had been.

Deku stumbled, catching himself, his eyes going wide for a moment before narrowing to dangerous slits. His entire demeanor shifted in a heartbeat, the sweet, begging boy from seconds ago gone.

A villain stood in his place.

His jaw tightened, his fists curling at his sides, and his stare turned cold. He hated being ordered around. Hated being told to let go of what was his.

“Don’t touch me again,” Deku muttered darkly, his voice low enough that only Shigaraki caught the edge in it.

Shigaraki grinned, unconcerned, brushing past to admire his prize, Dynamight, chained and glaring, still radiating anger even in defeat. “Remember, Deku,” he said lightly, “this isn’t about love. He’s bait.”

Deku’s teeth clicked together hard. He didn’t answer. But behind his eyes, the storm was building.

Katsuki tugged at the chains again, chest heaving, fury boiling over. His head pounded, his body ached, but his tongue was as sharp as ever.

“You’re all pathetic,” he spat, glaring at each of them in turn. “League of Villains, huh? More like a bunch of whiny rejects playing house. You think the city actually gives a shit about you? You’re nothing. Nobodies.”

Spinner bristled, teeth gritting. Toga growled, “Shut up, you dumb Dynamight, before I—”

But Katsuki wasn’t finished. He leaned forward as far as the chains would allow, a cruel grin spreading across his face despite the bruises. “And you—burnt-toast bastard.” His eyes locked on Dabi. “Must be a pain waking up to that mess on your face every morning.”

Dabi’s smile was slow, dangerous, his hand already sparking blue flames. “Say that again, brat. I’ll make sure you don’t wake up next time.”

Katsuki bared his teeth in a savage grin. “Do it. Let’s see how fast I can blow your ass apart even chained to this damn chair.”

The fire flared hotter, flooding the hideout with blistering heat, until Shigaraki’s voice cut through, sharp and final.

“Enough.”

Dabi’s eyes snapped toward him, flames licking dangerously close to the walls. Shigaraki raised one finger, calm but edged with warning. “He’s valuable. He’s not to be touched. If you kill him, you kill our entire plan.”

Dabi let out a frustrated laugh, flames extinguishing with a snap. “Tch. Fine. But one more word out of him—”

Katsuki smirked, refusing to look away. His heart hammered, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of silence.

His laugh was sharp, bitter, and meant to sting. “What’s wrong, staples? Can’t handle the truth? Guess all that patchwork skin is as thin as your ego—”

“That’s it.”

Shigaraki’s voice sliced the air. His hand dipped into a bag at his side, pulling out a strip of thick black cloth. A gag.

The room shifted instantly, Toga giggling, Dabi smirking like he’d just won something, Spinner muttering about how it was about time.

Katsuki’s eyes widened, then narrowed to a blazing glare. “You’ve gotta be—”

The gag was shoved between his teeth before he could finish. He jerked against the chains, muffled curses spilling out, but Shigaraki only tied it tight behind his head, satisfied.

“There,” Shigaraki said, stepping back with a cruel smile. “Much better. Quiet Dynamight.”

The others chuckled, enjoying his muffled fury.

Deku’s expression darkened. He hated it. Hated the way Katsuki’s voice was silenced. Hated that his Kacchan couldn’t spit fire back anymore.

His fingers twitched, and he took a step forward, barely restraining the impulse to rip the gag away.

Shigaraki caught the movement, his eyes glinting. “Don’t. He stays like this. If you want him to talk so badly, then you’d better make him worth keeping alive.”

Deku’s jaw locked, rage flickering behind his eyes. But he said nothing, his eyes only kept straying back to Katsuki.

Kacchan, Dynamight, pro hero.

Chained tight. Mouth gagged. Eyes burning holes through everyone in sight.

He looked so damn good like that. Deku could admit it, his Kacchan was breathtaking when he was restrained and helpless but still fighting with every inch of his body. The chains only made him look more vulnerable. More his.

But the gag… Deku’s chest squeezed. He didn’t like it. Not because it wasn’t hot, oh, it was very hot, but because it stole the thing he wanted most. Katsuki’s voice. His answers. His sharp, angry words, even if they were insults. He wanted their conversations. Needed them.

He finally pushed off the wall, ignoring Shigaraki’s sharp glance as he crossed the room. He knelt beside the chair, his hands gentle as he cupped Katsuki’s face. His thumbs brushed over his cheeks, then slid down to knead lightly at the tight line of his jaw.

“Poor Kacchan,” Deku murmured, his voice a low hum though loud enough for everyone to hear. “That can’t be comfortable, can it?”

Katsuki growled through the cloth, jerking away, but Deku only followed, rubbing soothing circles along the hinge of his jaw.

“I hate it too,” Deku whispered, leaning close, his cheek nearly brushing Katsuki’s. “How am I supposed to hear you when you’re all tied up like this? I want to hear every sound you make, every word you say. Don’t they get it? You’re mine to talk to.”

Katsuki’s muffled shout was sharp, furious, but his cheeks were burning.

Deku only smiled, pressing his forehead briefly against Katsuki’s temple like it was the most natural thing in the world. He smiled sweetly, but there was something hungry in his eyes.

“Mmm… you look so perfect like this,” he whispered, tilting Katsuki’s face from side to side as if admiring him. “All chained up, gagged, glaring at me like you want to kill me. I love it.”

Katsuki thrashed against the chair with a muffled roar, his words lost behind the cloth. Deku only chuckled, leaning closer until their noses nearly brushed.

“Ah, don’t pout, Kacchan. I know you want to talk to me. You probably want to call me a freak again, huh?” His grin widened, boyish and wicked. “Go ahead. Say it. I’ll just pretend I can hear you.”

He dragged his thumb over Katsuki’s lower lip where it pressed against the gag, slow and deliberate, before pinching his cheek lightly like he was a child. “So cute.”

Toga groaned from the couch, throwing her head back. “Ugh he can’t even answer you right now, Deku. Why are you still talking to him like you’re on a date?”

Deku didn’t even look at her. His gaze stayed glued to Katsuki’s face, fascinated, devout. “Because he’s listening,” he said simply, like it was obvious. His voice dropped softer, just for Katsuki. “Aren’t you, Kacchan? You’re listening to me?”

Katsuki jerked against the chair again, eyes blazing. His muffled yell came sharp, furious, though his cheeks were flushed, his pulse visible at his throat.

Deku’s grin softened into something far more dangerous. He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Katsuki’s ear.

“God, you’re beautiful like this.”

Deku’s thumbs pressed deeper, kneading slow circles into Katsuki’s tense cheeks, working down to the sore hinge of his jaw. His touch was steady, deliberate, almost tender.

Katsuki wanted to jerk away, wanted to spit in his face, but goddamn it, it felt good. The ache in his jaw eased under Deku’s careful hands, and his whole body sagged against the chair before he could stop himself.

His eyelids drooped, lashes fluttering heavy. He hated it. Hated that his body betrayed him. But it was too easy to lean into the warmth, too easy to let the exhaustion pull at him.

And when his eyes lifted again, they landed on Deku’s face, so close, so intent, green eyes wide with something far too dangerous to name.

Katsuki’s gaze softened against his will, eyes glimmering with a quiet plea he didn’t even understand. They looked almost doe-like, vulnerable, as if begging without words.

Deku’s breath hitched. His hands froze for just a second before tightening on Katsuki’s face like he was holding something fragile.

“Kacchan…” he whispered, voice breaking into something raw and reverent.

His face twists into that obsessive, hungry grin again, his fingers pressing just a little deeper into Katsuki’s jawline like he’s savoring the excuse to touch him. He leans in close, practically vibrating with excitement, whispering in a voice that’s both tender and unhinged.

“You have no idea how bad I want to—fuck Kacchan—I could just kiss you right now. Bite you, leave marks all over you. Make sure you remember me.”

Toga giggles, her legs kicking in delight from where she’s sitting. “Do it! No one’s stopping you, Deku~. Don’t be shy now.”

Katsuki stiffens, eyes darting between the two of them, gag muffling what’s definitely a growl. He’s glaring, trying to look dangerous, but those tired, drooping eyes and the flush on his cheeks only make Deku grin wider.

Deku tilts his head, inches from Katsuki’s face, like he’s weighing the dare. His breath fans over Katsuki’s skin. He mutters softly, “You look too perfect like this…”

Shigaraki finally groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Knock it off, Deku. You’re acting pathetic.” His tone is sharp, but Deku doesn’t even flinch. He doesn’t like taking orders, least of all from someone he doesn’t respect. Only working with Shigaraki because he heard Dynamight was in the area.

He stays leaned in close, brushing his thumb across Katsuki’s cheek like Shigaraki hadn’t even spoken. “Don’t listen to him, Kacchan, you’re the only one I care about right now.” His voice drips with affection, far too sweet for the situation.

Katsuki raises a single brow, gag muffling the scoff he wants to let out. Praises? Baby talk? From a villain who chained him up? The irony is almost funny.

Katsuki’s mind ticks over fast. Maybe if I give in a little, act like I’m softening, he’ll slip. Get cocky. Then I can take advantage and get the hell out of here.

So instead of snapping his head away this time, Katsuki just watches him. Gaze steady, cheeks pink, eyes sharp but not entirely rejecting the attention. If Deku notices, he’ll think Katsuki’s giving in.

Exactly what Katsuki wants him to think.

He lets out the tiniest whine, muffled behind the gag, and leans into Deku’s hands. It’s subtle, controlled, but effective. Deku’s whole body jerks like he’d just been shocked. His pupils blow wide, breath hitching as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“Kacchan…” he whispers, voice low and trembling with a mix of obsession and lust. His thumbs sweep harder along Katsuki’s jaw, desperate to coax more out of him. “Yes—yes, continue… God, don’t stop that.”

Katsuki does it again, rubs just a little harder into Deku’s palms, lets out a sound that could almost pass for a needy whine. Inside, he’s smirking. Hook, line, sinker.

Deku can’t contain himself anymore. He half-turns toward Shigaraki, though his eyes never leave Katsuki. “Take it off,” he says quickly, gesturing to the gag. Then louder, with a sudden bite “Boss. I need it off.”

Shigaraki groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Deku—”

Deku snaps. “I don’t care what you say. I’m doing it.” His hand is already tugging at the knot, movements shaky with excitement.

Katsuki hides his satisfaction behind a droop of his lashes. Perfect. Keep falling, Deku. The deeper you go, the easier this’ll be.

Deku fumbles the gag free, hands trembling as he tosses it aside. The cloth falls uselessly against the floor. Katsuki’s mouth is finally freed, and the first thing he does is cough, harsh, raspy, the sound scraping at his throat.

He blinks, lets his head fall against Deku’s chest, and then pouts. His lips pull downward, eyes glassy from irritation, voice husky as he croaks, “That thing hurt, you know.”

“Been digging into my mouth,” Katsuki adds, quieter, leaning into Deku’s touch again. His tone softens, trembling on the edges of something that sounds suspiciously like gratitude. “...Thanks for taking it off.”

Deku’s breath catches hard, pupils quivering as if the weight of Katsuki’s pout alone crushed him flat. “K-Kacchan…” His hands hover and then grip Katsuki’s face again, desperate, reverent. “You’re—God, you’re amazing. Even when you’re hurting. I’ll never let them do that to you again, I promise.”

Across the room, Spiner groans into his hand. “Oh my god. He’s whipped.”

Toga kicks her feet happily. “It’s cute! Like a fairytale! Zuku’s never acted this in love!!”

She practically sings as she skips across the room, skirts swishing, eyes sparkling like a kid on her birthday. She leans right into Deku’s space, chin propped on his shoulder so she can ogle Katsuki up close.

“Ooooh, Deku~,” she coos, voice syrupy and sharp. “You finally got Dynamight to submit!” Her giggle bubbles out, high-pitched and delighted. “He’s sooo cute when he’s docile like this. You should’ve done it sooner!”

Katsuki immediately rolls his eyes so hard it hurts. His whole expression twists into one of pure disgust, lips curling, nose wrinkling like he’s smelling something foul.

“Submit?!” he snaps, voice rasping but still full of venom. “The hell are you smoking, freak?!”

But the snarl only makes Toga giggle louder. She clasps her hands together dreamily. “He even sounds cuter when he’s tied up and angry. Zu, you’re spoiled!”

Deku doesn’t blink. His hands slide firmer along Katsuki’s jaw as if claiming him, his eyes glassy with obsession. “He’s not just cute. He’s mine,” he murmurs, almost like he’s answering Toga, but his gaze is locked entirely on Katsuki.

Katsuki suddenly jerked his head away, tearing out of Deku’s hands as far as the chains allowed. His face burned with irritation, jaw set tight, glaring daggers at Toga. She’d ruined it, ruined that fragile, messed-up little rhythm he had Deku trapped in.

Toga pouted, muttering about how he was “no fun,” but Katsuki didn’t care. He wanted space, wanted control. Anything but being paraded like some toy.

Though Deku didn’t take it well. His eyes narrowed, that glow of green along his veins sparking like static. The softness vanished in an instant, replaced by something sharp, dangerous, commanding.

“Kacchan,” Deku growled, low and tight, “knock it off.”

The way his voice dropped, half-threat, half-order, made Katsuki’s stomach flip. It was so damn strange how this villain could switch, from fawning, lovesick puppy to a predator staking his claim, like Katsuki was his territory.

And stranger still? Katsuki felt the corner of his mouth twitch, not in defiance but in some sick, buried thrill. Why the hell did he like it? Why was his body reacting as if this was exactly what he wanted?

Deku scoffed, clearly irritated by Katsuki’s little outburst, but instead of snapping further he pushed himself up to his feet. “Fine,” he muttered, stalking toward the counter where the League kept their stash. “You’re cranky. I’ll get you something to drink.”

Katsuki glared after him, lip curling. “The hell—” he started, but his throat was still dry, raw from the gag. He hated how the thought of water almost made him grateful.

Before he could spit another insult, Dabi wandered over, lazy and smirking. He draped an arm around Deku’s shoulders as the younger villain rummaged through the fridge.

“Y’know,” Dabi drawled, smoke curling at his lips, “you’re awfully soft on that one.” His chin jerked toward Katsuki, chained and scowling in the chair. “Never seen you this whipped before.”

Deku stiffened, but only slightly. His jaw clenched, eyes flicking from the bottle in his hand to Katsuki’s glare.

“Maybe,” Dabi went on, grin widening. “Maybe you like him a little too much.”

Deku yanked out the drink, shutting the fridge. “Shut up, Dabi,” he muttered, voice low and dangerous.

Deku and Dabi’s voices carried across the room, their conversation sharp, low, laced with that villain edge. Dabi kept pushing, teasing, and Deku snapped back with his usual venom.

Over in the chair, chained and silent, Katsuki felt his chest tighten.

He hated it. Hated how his lips pulled down into a faint pout before he could stop himself, hated how his foot tapped against the floor like an impatient kid. Why the hell did it bother him so much when Deku wasn’t hovering over him? When the Deku’s eyes weren’t on him?

It shouldn’t matter.
Deku was a villain. A twisted freak who’d chained him up, mocked him, touched him like he was some prize. Katsuki should be plotting how to escape, how to blast a hole through the wall, how to burn that lovesick look right out of Deku’s eyes.

And yet there it was. That ugly, gnawing little feeling in his chest.

Why the hell am I upset he’s not paying attention to me?

His teeth ground together as his glare flicked from Deku’s back to Dabi’s smirk. Anger rose hot in his throat, not just at them, but at himself.

Katsuki Bakugou, Pro Hero Dynamight, sitting here like some needy brat because a villain stopped fawning over him for five seconds.

He was losing his mind. A groan slipped past his throat before he could catch it, low and frustrated, heavy with everything boiling inside him.

The sound cut straight through Dabi’s taunts. Deku’s head snapped up instantly, pupils narrowing, focus torn back to where Katsuki sat chained.

“Aw, Kacchan…” Deku’s voice softened into that syrupy tone again, all baby-talk and obsession. He abandoned the conversation with Dabi in an instant, crossing the room with the bottle in hand. “You don’t gotta get all worked up like that. Calm down, I’ve got you.”

Katsuki stiffened as Deku crouched in front of him again, green eyes bright and shining with that sick mix of affection and possession. The cap twisted off with a sharp click, and Deku tilted the water toward his lips like he was handling something precious.

“Here,” he murmured, coaxing. “Drink. Nice and slow.”

Katsuki wanted to spit in his face. He wanted to headbutt him hard enough to break his nose. But his throat ached, raw and dry, and the cool smell of water was too tempting.

He parted his lips just enough, glaring through half-lidded eyes as Deku tipped the bottle carefully.

“There you go,” Deku whispered, smiling like he was doing Katsuki some great service. “See? Feels better already, doesn’t it?”

Not as dominant as before. Softer. Closer to the lovesick fool again.

The last of the water slid down his throat, Katsuki pulled back with a sharp exhale. Deku set the bottle aside with deliberate care, his hands immediately returning to Katsuki, palms rubbing slow circles against his knees as though the touch was second nature.

Before Katsuki could snap at him, a shadow fell over them.

Toga was back again, crouching low at Deku’s side, chin in her hands, eyes wide and gleaming. She tilted her head, grinning at Katsuki like a cat toying with a cornered mouse.

“So, Dynamight,” she sing-songed, voice teasing, “what do you wanna do to us villains, huh? Kill us? Arrest us? Or…” Her grin widened, sharp and hungry. “Maybe something else?”

Katsuki’s nostrils flared, his chains clinking as he jerked against them. “What the fuck kind of question is that?!” he spat, disgust dripping from every syllable.

Deku only hummed softly, like he didn’t hear Toga at all. His thumbs pressed a little firmer into Katsuki’s knees, rubbing absentmindedly as though Katsuki belonged to him.

“You’re tense again,” Deku muttered, his gaze flicking up to Katsuki’s face with that unnerving gentleness. “Don’t let her bother you, Kacchan. Just breathe.”

Katsuki’s blood boiled. He wanted to tell them both to go to hell. But his body betrayed him, his legs twitched faintly under Deku’s touch, warmth flooding his chest in a way he couldn’t stand.

Toga’s smile faltered, her head jerking toward Deku with an exaggerated pout.

“Heyyy, don’t ignore me like that!” she whined, tugging at his sleeve. “I was asking him a serious question.”

Deku’s hands stilled on Katsuki’s knees, his jaw tightening as he turned to look at her. “Don’t bother him,” he said flatly, tone clipped.

“Bother him?!” Toga gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. “I’m just trying to have some fun! You can’t hog him all to yourself, Deku.”

“He’s mine.” The words left Deku’s mouth sharp and immediate, no hesitation, no shame.

Toga groaned, slumping forward like she’d heard this a hundred times before. “Ugh, you’re so obsessed. You don’t even share your toys.”

“He’s not a toy.” Deku’s voice dipped low, dangerous, but there was also a flush creeping up his neck, like he hated how easy she could fluster him.

“Oh my god,” Toga laughed, rolling her eyes. “You sound like some jealous boyfriend. What are you gonna do next, hold his hand in front of everyone?”

The two of them fell into bickering, voices snapping back and forth like siblings fighting over the last snack. Deku’s cheeks heated with irritation, Toga pouting and teasing, neither of them backing down.

And in the middle of it all sat Katsuki, chained and staring, his brain caught between what the fuck is happening and why does it feel like I’m the center of their messed-up family drama?

The back-and-forth between Deku and Toga dragged on, their voices rising like bratty siblings fighting over a favorite toy. Katsuki’s jaw ached from clenching, his temples throbbing with every word. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Shut the hell up!” he barked, the sound ripping from his chest before he could stop it.

The room went quiet for a split second.

Deku’s head whipped toward him, eyes flashing, his expression darkening in that terrifying way he could switch between lovesick and villainous. Katsuki realized too late that snapping at him was different from snapping at Toga. He’d struck a nerve.

Izuku rose to his feet in one smooth motion, Toga’s whining fading into the background like it didn’t exist. His boots clicked against the floor as he closed the space between them. Without hesitation, he seized Katsuki’s jaw in his hand, fingers digging just enough to remind him who held the power here.

“Kacchan,” Deku said, low and dangerous, the sweetness gone, “don’t you yell at me like that again.”

The room went silent. Even Toga stopped mid-pout, blinking wide at the sudden shift.

Katsuki’s glare was ready, the insult sitting on the tip of his tongue, until his body betrayed him. His breath hitched, throat dry, and his lips clamped shut before the words could escape.

He hadn’t even realized it happened until the silence stretched, he’d shut up, obeyed, listened without thinking.

Deku’s thumb brushed against the corner of his mouth almost mockingly, green eyes boring into his like they could read every crack in his defenses.

“That’s better,” he murmured, tone softening again, though the grip on his jaw didn’t loosen.

Katsuki’s stomach churned. He should’ve shouted. He should’ve fought back. But instead he sat there, bound and still, his chest tight with a feeling he didn’t want to name.

Deku finally tore his eyes from Katsuki, twisting back toward Toga to pick up their argument right where it had left off. His tone was sharp, annoyed, but his hand never left Katsuki’s face, his thumb stroking along his cheekbone like Katsuki was a possession, a prize he could argue with one hand and hold onto with the other.

Katsuki’s nostrils flared. The longer that touch lingered, the hotter his blood boiled. A low grunt tore from his chest, followed by a sharp scoff.

“Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?” he snapped, glaring up at Deku with fire in his eyes.

Deku’s head tilted slowly, his hand tightening just enough for Katsuki to feel the pressure along his jaw. His green eyes gleamed with something sharp, dangerous.

“Who’s the one chained up,” Deku murmured, voice low and cutting, “and who isn’t?”

The words hit harder than Katsuki wanted to admit. He jerked against his restraints, chains rattling loud in the quiet, but they didn’t budge. His glare stayed fixed on Deku, though there was a flicker of something else beneath it, something he hated himself for.

Deku just smiled, thumb pressing one last time into his skin before he turned back to Toga, resuming their bickering like nothing had happened.

Katsuki smirked, sharp and defiant even with iron weighing down his wrists and ankles. Every time Deku turned back to argue with Toga, Katsuki tossed in another jab, low, cutting, and loud enough to hit its mark.

“You’re real scary, huh? Yelling at a girl like her.”
“Bet you only feel big ‘cause I’m stuck here.”
“Some villain king you are—acting like a boss.”

Each word sank under Deku’s skin, his jaw twitching harder, his hand flexing where it still rested on Katsuki’s face. Finally, with a dangerous snap in his voice, Deku hissed, “Enough.”

Before anyone could blink, he grabbed the back of Katsuki’s chair and dragged it across the floor with a screech of metal, straight down the hall. Toga’s protests and laughter echoed faintly behind them, but Deku didn’t turn around. His grip was iron. His steps heavy.

He shoved Katsuki into his room, slamming the door shut. The chains clattered as Katsuki shifted in his seat, smirking despite the sharpness in Deku’s eyes.

Deku didn’t say a word, just stood there, chest rising and falling, then turned on his heel and left him in silence. The door clicked locked.

For the first time, Katsuki was truly alone in the League’s den.

The chains clinked as he shifted in the chair, glaring at the door Deku had just slammed behind him. He let out a scoff, the sound rough in the quiet.

“Tch. What the hell was that? Dragging me off like some pissed-off babysitter…”

He turned his head, scanning the room. It wasn’t what he expected at all. For an abandoned bar repurposed into a villain hideout, Deku’s space was… decent. Clean. Almost comfortable. A battered old couch shoved against one wall, books stacked in messy but deliberate piles, and a desk covered in notes and sketches, strategies, plans, maybe even doodles if Katsuki squinted.

There was even a blanket tossed carelessly across the bed, not moldy or torn, but something that looked… chosen. Something he’d bothered to keep.

Katsuki scoffed again, but softer this time. “What a nerd. Even as a villain he can’t half-ass anything.”

His chest felt tight, though he’d rather choke than admit it. Deku was supposed to be the enemy, the lunatic chained to Shigaraki’s leash. But here Katsuki was, stuck in his room, surrounded by pieces of the same obsessive, meticulous Deku villain.

“Shit…” Katsuki muttered, eyes narrowing as he forced himself to look away. “This place is too damn… calm.”

A little bit later, Katsuki shifted for what felt like the hundredth time, chains rattling uselessly against the chair. His jaw clenched. He’d been left alone in here way too damn long. The silence was starting to crawl under his skin.

“Hey!” he barked, voice cutting through the stillness. “What the hell are you bastards doing out there?”

Nothing.

His scowl deepened. He yanked at the restraints again, metal biting into his wrists, the chair legs screeching across the floor as he fought to pull free. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, his muscles straining against bonds that refused to budge.

“Damn it—! Get in here already!” His voice cracked sharper than he wanted, rough and edged with frustration. He growled under his breath and tried again, louder this time. “I’m not just sittin’ here like some—some pet you forgot about!”

He twisted and shoved, trying every angle he could, shoulders burning from the effort. The chair creaked but held.

Katsuki let his head fall back with a loud, guttural groan. “You lock me up in his room and then just—what? Forget about me?!”

The silence pressed in again. No footsteps. No laughter. No smug Deku voice calling him out. Nothing.

That was somehow worse.

Out in the main room, the League was loud and careless. A bottle of whiskey slammed on the counter, Dabi snorting at some crude joke, Toga twirling a knife between her fingers. Twice was sharpening his blades with a steady shhhk-shhhk, sparks flying now and then. Shigaraki sat slouched, scratching at his neck, the glow of the TV flickering across his pale face.

No one paid attention to the faint echoes drifting from the closed-off hall.

At first Katsuki’s voice had carried sharp and demanding, rough like sandpaper: “Idiots! I said let me out, damn it!” But the longer no one came, the weaker it got.

Now, muffled through the walls, his tone had shifted.

“Hey… c’mon… you can’t just…” His voice cracked, words swallowed as if admitting them too loud would kill him. “I don’t—just let me out of here already fuck..”

His chair scraped faintly against the floor. Another tug of chain. Another useless groan.

“…please.” The word was low, nearly drowned under the clink of glasses and the shrill laugh from Toga.

Deku swirled the amber liquid in his glass, downing the last sip before reaching lazily for the bottle. The sound of whiskey splashing against the sides of crystal cut through the background noise, but his ears stayed locked on something else, those faint, cracked pleas.

His lips curled. A smug, almost dreamy smirk tugged at his face. He sounds so pretty when he breaks.

Shigaraki let out a long, irritated groan, dragging his nails against his own neck until skin reddened. “Deku. Shut him up before I lose my patience.”

Deku didn’t look at him right away. He lifted the fresh glass, inhaling the burn of whiskey, savoring the taste on his tongue as if nothing else mattered. Then, with a lazy chuckle, he set it back down and rose to his feet.

“All right, all right,” he drawled, stretching his shoulders. His eyes gleamed, sharp and alive in a way that didn’t match his calm tone. “Wouldn’t want him tiring himself out before I’ve had my fill, anyway.”

With that, he strolled toward the hallway, every step deliberate, the sound of Katsuki’s weakening voice pulling him in like a siren call.

The door creaked as Deku pushed it open, stepping back into the dimly lit room. His posture was loose, casual, the smug tilt of his mouth making it obvious he’d taken his time on purpose.

But the moment his eyes landed on Katsuki, his composure cracked. His pupils blew wide, swallowing up the green until they were almost black.

Katsuki sat there, chin tilted stubbornly but trembling, wrists raw against the chains. His cheeks were blotchy, his lips pressed tight like he was fighting himself, and his eyes, red-rimmed, wet, furious but undeniably tearful, fixed on Deku with a mixture of defiance and desperation.

Deku sucked in a breath, chest heaving like he’d just run a mile. His smirk twitched wider, unsteady, almost manic. He stepped inside and shut the door softly behind him.

“Oh, Kacchan,” he whispered, voice dripping with adoration and hunger. “You look… perfect. Just for me.”

He strolled closer, crouching low so their eyes were level. One gloved finger brushed under Katsuki’s damp lashes, catching the trace of a tear. Deku’s grin deepened, pupils still blown.

“Do you know what you do to me when you pout like that?”

Katsuki sniffled, the sound humiliating in the heavy silence, and gave the smallest shake of his head. He didn’t trust his voice, not with the way his throat felt tight, raw.

Deku’s grin softened into something far more dangerous. His hands rose, cupping Katsuki’s face like it was something fragile, precious. His thumbs brushed slow, lazy strokes across tear-warmed skin.

“No?” Deku murmured, tilting his head, studying him like Katsuki was a puzzle only he could solve. “You don’t know? …Then let me tell you.”

He leaned closer, breath hot against Katsuki’s lips, his smile splitting wider.

“You make me want to keep you all to myself. To hold you, break you, build you back up again—over and over. Every tear, every pout—” his thumbs pressed in firmer against Katsuki’s cheeks, forcing his eyes up to meet his, “—just proves you need me.”

Katsuki’s chest heaved, a conflicted sound escaping between his teeth.

Deku chuckled low, his forehead resting against Katsuki’s. “Don’t worry, Kacchan. I’ll take such good care of you.”

His thumbs never left Katsuki’s cheeks, his voice dipping into something desperate, needy.
“Please, Kacchan… just once. Let me kiss those beautiful pouty lips. You don’t know what you do to me.”

Katsuki’s eyes flickered, his throat working as if he almost swallowed the words. The way Deku leaned in, gaze drowning him in green, made his chest tighten with something dangerously close to surrender.

For a split second, he tilted, just enough that Deku’s breath ghosted against his mouth. His heart stumbled.

Then he turned sharply, jaw set, looking away.
“Tch… no. You’re a damn villain.”

Deku froze, then laughed under his breath, low, broken, almost feral. His grip didn’t loosen, but his smile twisted, darker.
“Villain, hero… labels don’t matter when your lips already want me.”

Katsuki scoffed, cheeks hot, refusing to look at him.

Deku leaned closer anyway, brushing the corner of Katsuki’s mouth with his words.
“You’ll give in. I can wait.”

For a while, silence hung thick between them. Deku didn’t push, just hovered there, thumb brushing idly over Katsuki’s jaw as though he could soothe the refusal away. Katsuki refused to meet his eyes, his chest rising and falling with stubborn control.

Finally, his voice broke through the quiet, low and rough.
“…Why me?”

Deku blinked, tilting his head.
“What?”

Katsuki turned his glare on him, though it lacked its usual fire.
“You heard me. Out of all the heroes you could’ve dragged here, why’d you pick me?”

Deku’s smirk softened, his fingers stilling on Katsuki’s face. His pupils widened like he’d been waiting for that question.

“You really wanna know why, Kacchan?” His grin stretched wide, eyes gleaming with that unhinged kind of honesty. “It’s because I’ve been watching you. For years.”

Katsuki’s stomach clenched.

Deku didn’t even flinch at admitting it. He leaned closer, practically whispering, “Your patrol routes. The cafés you stop at. The way you rub your temples when you’re stressed. I know when you get up, when you eat—if you even eat. I know you, Kacchan. Better than anyone else ever will.”

He chuckled quietly, not a trace of shame in him.
“And I’m not afraid to admit it. Not to you.”

Katsuki’s breath hitched, his body going tense in the chains. He should’ve spat in Deku face. He should’ve cursed him out, threatened him, told him to rot. But instead, something worse churned in his chest, an ugly, hot mix of frustration and self-loathing.

Because he wasn’t even mad at Deku.
He was mad at himself.

Mad that he hadn’t noticed. That someone could’ve been shadowing him this closely, this long, and he never picked up on it.
He was Dynamight. He was supposed to be sharp, aware, untouchable. And yet here he was, trapped, chained, staring into the obsessive grin of a villain who knew him better than he knew himself.

Katsuki’s jaw tightened, his throat dry.

“…Damn it,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

He slumped back against the chair, a long sigh slipping from his chest. Fighting it, fighting him, was only making his head pound harder. So he just… stopped.

Didn’t fight. Didn’t argue. Just let the crazy green-haired villain touch his face and ramble on with that soft, obsessive tone that made Katsuki’s skin crawl and warm all at once.

Deku’s voice dipped, breathless, needy. “Kacchan, do you even know what you’re doing to me right now? You’re so perfect like this… I can’t take it anymore.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, but Deku didn’t stop. His hands slid down to cradle Katsuki’s jaw again, thumbs brushing his lips.
“Please… just one kiss. That’s all I want. I’ll be gentle—I swear I’ll be so gentle. Just once.”

He leaned closer, his forehead almost pressing against Katsuki’s. His pupils were blown wide, desperation practically dripping from him. “I’ve wanted this forever. You don’t understand, Kacchan… I need it.”

Katsuki’s throat tightened, his heart pounding loud enough he was afraid Deku could hear it. He forced a scowl, but Deku’s pleading eyes made it hard to keep the mask up.

“Pathetic…” Katsuki muttered weakly, though it didn’t have the bite he wanted it to.

Deku only smiled like he’d just won something.

Their lips hovered a breath apart, Deku’s hands warm on Katsuki’s jaw, his eyes wild and pleading. Katsuki’s breath hitched, his own lips parting before he caught himself.

Then, in a soft pouty voice he didn’t even recognize as his own, Katsuki muttered,
“…Let me out first.”

Deku froze, blinking in surprise.

Katsuki leaned into the touch just a little, his lashes lowering as though he were giving in. “If you want it so bad… take these chains off. I’m not kissing you tied up like this.”

For a heartbeat, Deku looked like he might actually consider it. His mouth twitched, pupils trembling with the force of his obsession. But then, he broke out in a laugh. A sharp, broken laugh that cracked the tension in the air.

“You think I’m an idiot, Kacchan?” Deku smirked, leaning back, pulling his hands away from Katsuki’s face like a punishment. “The second I unchain you, you’ll blast me through the wall. Don’t think I don’t know you.”

Katsuki’s pout deepened.

Deku paced a little, running a hand through his messy green hair, still laughing softly to himself.
“Nice try. You almost had me. Almost.” He turned back, eyes glinting with dangerous affection. “But no. You stay mine, right here, just like this.”

Katsuki’s heart dropped into a frustrated pit in his chest. He almost had him.

Deku crouched again, tilting his head, his grin returning. “Pouting suits you, though… maybe I’ll let you try again later.”

Though Deku wasn’t right. Not even close.

Because Katsuki did want to kiss him.
So bad it made his chest ache.

His lips tingled just from the nearness, from the way Deku’s breath had ghosted over them seconds ago. He’d never kissed anyone in his life, not once. He was still a virgin who had never let anyone close enough to touch him like that.

And now… here he was burning with the pathetic truth that he wanted it. That if Deku really unchained him, if Deku leaned in and kissed him, he wouldn’t run. He wouldn’t blast him across the room.

He’d let him.

Katsuki clenched his jaw, glaring at the floor, refusing to let those thoughts show. Refusing to let the villain see that small, shameful crack in his armor.

Deku leaned closer again, eyes wide, pupils blown, that lovesick grin back on his lips.
“What are you thinking about, Kacchan? You look like you’re hiding something from me.”

Katsuki turned his head, scowling, biting the inside of his cheek to keep the truth down.
“Nothing,” he muttered.

Deku tilted his head, grin softening into something hungrier, needier. He slid his hands down, palms resting on Katsuki’s thighs, thumbs rubbing slow circles over the fabric of his hero suit.

“Come on, Kacchan…” He coaxed, his voice dipping into that sweet, broken whisper. “Tell me what’s on your mind. Don’t hide from me. I can see it in your eyes—there’s something you want to say.”

Katsuki swallowed hard, his muscles twitching under the villain’s touch. The circles burned through him, electric and maddening, as if Deku could smooth past his walls with the gentlest pressure.

Deku leaned closer, forehead brushing against Katsuki’s, his pupils wide and shaking with desperation.
“Please, Kacchan… I need to know, you're so interesting. You can tell me anything. You know you can.”

Katsuki bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, forcing himself not to make a sound. He couldn’t give this bastard the satisfaction. He couldn’t admit what he was actually thinking, that he wanted the kiss, that he was starving for it, starving for the touch that made him feel wanted for the first time in his life.

The warmth of Deku’s hands on his thighs, the way he was being begged for instead of ordered around, it made his throat tighten, his resolve slipping.

“…Tch,” Katsuki finally muttered, turning his head away, “quit beggin’, idiot.”

Deku only smiled brighter, sliding his hands a little higher up his thighs.

His hands slid higher and higher, dangerously close now, fingertips brushing the edge of Katsuki’s zipper. The hero’s breath caught in his throat, cheeks flushing hot against his will.

“W-Wait—” Katsuki muttered, but the protest was weak, shaky, nothing like his usual bark.

Deku only tilted his head, grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as though he’d found the softest spot to press. “What’s wrong, Kacchan? You were just glaring at me a second ago… and now you’re pouting again.”

Katsuki’s lips trembled, his pride clashing with the ache twisting in his chest. Finally, he let out a low, frustrated whine and dropped his head back against the chair.

“…Just—just let me out,” he whispered. “Release the chains.”

Deku blinked, his pupils dilating even further, like the request itself was some forbidden treasure.

“I promise I won’t do anything,” Katsuki added quickly, voice hushed, almost shy. His crimson eyes flicked up to meet Deku’s, softer than he’d ever let them be. “I won’t run. I won’t fight. I just… not like this. Please.”

For a moment, Deku was silent, his hands still resting heavy and warm on Katsuki’s thighs. Then he laughed, though it sounded more shaken than mocking.

“I'm not dumb Kacchan.” he whispered. “The great Dynamight would blow me to pieces the second I let you go”

But Katsuki didn’t look away this time. His pout deepened, his eyes wet with something between shame and longing.
“…I mean it.”

Those two quiet words were enough to make Deku’s heart pound dangerously fast.

He then slowly moved towards the chains at Katsuki’s ankles. His sharp green eyes tracked every movement, muscles coiled like springs, his quirk buzzing faintly at his fingertips. But Katsuki didn’t lunge, didn’t fight.

Instead, he groaned at the simple release, stretching his legs long with a relief that made Deku’s throat tighten. When his eyes lifted, they weren’t hard or defiant, they were heavy, molten, filled with something that Deku had only dreamed of seeing directed at him.

Slowly, carefully, Katsuki spread his legs wider. Not a challenge. Not defiance. An invitation.

“See? I’m not running…” he mumbled, cheeks tinted pink, gaze flicking down toward Deku’s lips and then away. His voice went quieter, almost fragile. “Just… take these off too. Please.”

Deku’s laugh came out shaky, disbelieving, but his body moved closer on instinct anyway.

He put his hands back on Katsuki’s thighs, his thumbs stroking thoughtlessly over muscle. His head tilted, curls falling over his forehead, and his voice dipped low in a tone that was more whine than demand.

“Kacchan… before I take them all off—just one thing. Please let me kiss you first.”

Katsuki wanted it. God, he wanted it so badly his chest hurt. But he wasn’t going to give it to him like this. Not chained. Not cornered.

“You’re not getting a damn thing,” Katsuki muttered, biting his lip, “not until I’m free.”

Deku blinked, caught off guard, his lips parting like he’d just been told the cruelest thing imaginable. Then, with a frustrated groan, he let his forehead thunk against Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Why are you so difficult?” he whined, muffled against his shirt. “You’re right here. You’re finally soft with me and—Kacchan, do you know how long I’ve waited for this? For you?” His fingers squeezed possessively around Katsuki’s legs. “I can’t—I can’t just stop now.”

Katsuki huffed, staring at the ceiling like he could blow the blush away. “Then you’re an idiot. Because I’m not kissing you like some prisoner. You want me to kiss you, Deku? You unchain me. Simple.”

Deku sat back just enough to glare at him, green eyes blazing, torn between anger and desperation. His quirk still hummed at his fingertips, but his control wavered, because Katsuki wasn’t doing what he expected. He wasn’t clawing to escape. He wasn’t spitting venom or thrashing. He was just… sitting there, lips soft, voice husky, pouting with that stubborn tilt of his chin.

“Do you even realize what you’re asking me to risk?” Deku hissed, pressing closer again, his nose brushing Katsuki’s cheek like he couldn’t help himself. “If I take those off and you run—if you leave me—I’ll—” His voice cracked, and he pressed his mouth shut, trembling.

Katsuki turned his head just enough to see him out of the corner of his eye, a strange mix of pity and frustration twisting in his chest. “Then you’ll what? Cry about it? Hunt me down again? You know I’m not gonna fight you.”

Deku’s throat bobbed, his chest rising and falling too fast. “Then why won’t you just let me kiss you?”

Finally, Katsuki met his gaze fully. His voice was quiet, deadly serious. “Because I want it too. And I’m not letting my first kiss happen while I’m shackled to a chair like a damn pet.”

The confession knocked the air out of Deku. His whole body went still, his mouth falling open, eyes widening with stunned disbelief. For a moment, the room was silent except for their breathing.

Then he let out the most dramatic groan yet, dragging his hands down his own face. “Kaaacchaaaan! You’re killing me!” he whined, flopping forward until he was practically sprawled over Katsuki’s lap, refusing to let go of him. “You can’t just say something like that and then make me wait!”

Katsuki felt the weight of him, warm and solid, and tried not to shiver at the closeness. His fists curled against the quirk blocking metal blocks around his hands, grounding himself. He wanted to say something sharp, something that would shut Deku up, but instead what came out was softer, shakier.

“Then hurry up and decide, dumbass. Because I’m not kissing you unless I’m free. You want it bad enough? Prove you trust me.”

Deku froze against him, breathing ragged, green eyes darting from the cuffs around Katsuki’s hands to his face.

He lingered there, forehead still pressed to Katsuki’s shoulder, fighting an internal war. His breathing was shaky, uneven, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to cling tighter or leave the room entirely. Finally, with a deep exhale, he pushed himself upright and stepped back.

Katsuki blinked up at him, momentarily thrown off by the sudden absence of weight. Deku ran both hands through his messy curls, groaning under his breath like he was already regretting the decision he hadn’t even made yet.

“Fine,” He muttered, his tone clipped but laced with something raw underneath. “But don’t think for a second I’m not watching you.”

Katsuki tilted his chin, smirking faintly despite the heat lingering in his cheeks. “You’ve been watching me for years already. What’s new?”

Deku’s pupils flared, and he had to bite down on his lip to stop the shiver that wanted to run through him. That smugness, the way Katsuki could still look cocky in chains, it made him feel feral. He wanted to ruin it, wanted to kiss it away, wanted to drown in it. But he forced himself to move instead, circling around Katsuki’s chair with slow, deliberate steps.

Katsuki’s eyes tracked him the whole way, sharp and cautious, but there was no fight behind them. Just wariness.

If he wanted to kick, to lunge, to try something, this was the chance.

But he didn’t. He shifted forward slightly, testing his weight, and then sighed. “If I wanted to bolt, I’d have done it already.”

Behind him, Deku froze. That single admission washed over him like a drug, dizzying and heavy. His hand pressed to the back of Katsuki’s chair as he leaned closer, green eyes burning.

“I know,” he whispered, almost reverent. “That’s why I’m doing this.”

And with careful, deliberate motions, he reached around, unclasping the chain wrapped around Katsuki’s waist. The metal slipped away, leaving Katsuki free to stand.

The silence that followed was deafening. Katsuki rose to his feet slowly, stretching, muscles pulling taut under his suit. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, then looked down at Deku with something unreadable in his crimson eyes.

All that remained between them and true freedom were the blocks on Katsuki’s hands.

He shifted his wrists against the cuffs, the metal biting at reddened skin. The sound of rattling chains filled the room, low and grating, cutting through the silence between them. His crimson eyes locked on Deku’s wide, expectant green ones, and he tilted his head just slightly, a pout pulling at his mouth.

“You really want that kiss, don’t you?” Katsuki’s voice was steady, though his throat burned.

Deku swallowed hard, his breath hitching as he leaned in closer, fingers hovering over the locks. “More than anything.”

Katsuki scoffed, a dry laugh slipping out. “Then release me. All of me. No more halfway crap.”

“Kacchan—”

“I’m not stupid,” Katsuki cut him off, yanking his wrists against the chains for emphasis. “If I wanted to fight, I’d have already fought. If I wanted to run, I’d be gone. But..” His eyes softened, just barely, and he looked up through his lashes with a quiet pout. “…I want it too. Let me go. You’ll get your kiss.”

Deku’s pupils dilated, trembling hands brushing over the cuffs like they burned. His quirk pulsed at his palms, ready to strike if Katsuki even twitched the wrong way. But the hero didn’t move, didn’t lunge. He only stood there, chained and steady, waiting.

Deku’s breath shook as he leaned closer, their faces barely an inch apart, his green eyes glassy with obsession. The metal blocks glowed faintly green as Deku’s quirk brushed over the locking mechanisms. He was deliberate, too deliberate, dragging out the moment like it was some kind of ritual. His gaze never left Katsuki’s face, drinking in every flicker of expression as though it were the sweetest nectar he’d ever tasted.

The heavy quirk blockers clamped around Katsuki’s wrists gave a final hiss before loosening with a sharp clank. The weight fell away, leaving raw, red bands where the metal had dug into his skin.

For a moment, Katsuki just sat there. His arms lowered slowly, like they didn’t quite belong to him yet. Then he flexed his fingers, one by one, knuckles cracking in the quiet room. The sound was sharp, grounding.

Deku watched with unblinking eyes, chest heaving with anticipation. “Well?”

Katsuki scowled but raised one palm, focusing. A spark snapped across his skin, faint at first, then a small controlled burst, flaring just enough to light the space between them. The familiar warmth burned against his palm, comforting and dangerous all at once.

Katsuki chuckled, staring at the light dancing across his hand. His heart gave a painful twist. He had his quirk again. His freedom. All he had to do was blast this psycho villain through the wall and he’d be gone. But…

But instead of fighting, his eyes flicked up. Straight to Deku.

Deku’s pupils were blown wide, lips trembling with a smile that was far too unhinged to be gentle. He took a shaky step closer, whispering like he couldn’t help himself, “Kacchan… you’re so sexy like this.”

Katsuki’s jaw tightened, and he curled his sparking fist, smoke curling lazily from his palm. He should lunge. He should fight. His body screamed for it. But his chest ached with something heavier. He stepped closer to Deku.

And then Katsuki wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Pulled him in tight.

Deku froze, utterly still. His breath caught against Katsuki’s neck, pupils blown wide.

“…Thanks,” Katsuki muttered low, his voice raw, surprising even himself. He squeezed tighter, burying his face against Deku’s shoulder. “For trusting me. For… letting me out.” He huffed, lips curling in something between a sneer and a smile. “You’re quite nice for a freak villain.”

Deku trembled. His arms hovered uncertainly for a moment before finally curling around Katsuki’s waist, pulling him closer like he’d been starving for this exact moment.

His heart hammered, his mind scrambled. Nice? That wasn’t what he was. That wasn’t what he was supposed to be. He wasn’t nice, he was a villain, dangerous and cruel. He’d planned to chain Katsuki and use him.

But here he was, holding him. Being called nice. Who would’ve thought?

Deku’s nails dug lightly into Katsuki’s back, his voice low when he spoke, “Kacchan don’t call me that. I’m not nice. I’m—”

Katsuki cut him off, leaning back just enough to smirk faintly into his freckled face. “Shut up, Deku. Just take the compliment.”

Deku smirked and clutched at Katsuki like he’d won some impossible prize, pulling him close as they stumbled back toward the couch in his room. He couldn’t keep still, his fingers dragged across Katsuki’s shoulders, his back, his arms, mapping every inch like he had to memorize it before it slipped away.

“Kacchan you promised me,” Deku breathed, voice breaking between a whine and a groan. “The kiss—you said I’d get it if I freed you. You cant take it back.” His words spilled faster the closer they got to the couch, obsession dripping from every syllable.

Katsuki let himself be guided, legs moving stiffly until the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. Deku all but pushed him down, then crowded over him, green eyes burning bright with need.

Katsuki’s throat bobbed. He wanted it, hell, he wanted it bad. His heart pounded so hard he swore Izuku could hear it. But his chest felt tight, almost painful. His palms clenched against his thighs, shaking faintly.

“…Tch.” He clicked his tongue, turning his face away just enough to keep Deku guessing. “I didn’t say when, damn nerd.”

Deku laughed, a sound too high, too eager, brushing their foreheads together anyway. “But I want it now, Kacchan. I’ve wanted it forever.”

His voice dropped into a low rasp, the kind that slithered under Katsuki’s skin and refused to leave. “I want to kiss you until you can’t breathe. Bite you. Mark you up until every damn hero knows you're taken.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened, breath catching hard in his throat. He tried to scoff, tried to snap back something sharp and cruel, but nothing came out. His chest heaved instead, the pressure in his lungs unbearable. His eyes burned hot, blurring slightly.

Deku froze when he noticed. “Kacchan?”

Katsuki shook his head, jaw tight. He hated this, hated that his body betrayed him like this. He wasn’t supposed to be trembling, wasn’t supposed to be crying. But his first kiss? With a villain? With his kidnapper? His stomach twisted, a storm of nerves and shame and want tearing him apart from the inside.

His fists dug into the couch cushions, nails biting through the fabric. “Shut up,” he rasped, eyes shining wet. “Just—just shut the hell up for a second. I… I’m not—”

Deku’s grin returned, softer this time, almost tender in its freakishness. He brushed his thumb across the corner of Katsuki’s eye, catching the wetness there.

“You’re scared.” He said it like it was the most precious secret in the world. “And I love it. I love that I get to be your first. That I get to be the one you shake for.”

Katsuki’s breath stuttered, his glare sharp, but his body betrayed him again, leaning into Deku’s touch instead of away.

Deku’s patience snapped. Enough with the hovering, the begging, the half-measures. His arms wrapped firmly around Katsuki’s waist, twisting them until his own back hit the couch cushions with a dull thud. Katsuki yelped at the sudden movement, his palms bracing against Deku’s chest on instinct, wide red eyes staring down at him.

Deku grinned up at him, breath ragged, pupils blown wide with hunger. “No more small talk, Kacchan… I’m done waiting.”

And before Katsuki could spit out some nervous insult, Deku surged up, closing the last inches between them, and kissed him.

Katsuki froze. His lips were trembling, stiff at first, but Deku didn’t give him space to think. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, swallowing every shaky exhale Katsuki let slip. One of Deku’s hands slid down his back, fingers stopping wide over the hero’s waist, while the other drifted lower, gripping Katsuki’s ass, tugging him closer until their bodies fit together perfectly.

Katsuki’s heart hammered in his chest so loud he swore the whole damn building could hear it. His fingers twitched against Deku’s shirt, threatening to push him away, but instead, they curled, clutching tight at the fabric like he’d fall apart if he let go.

Deku moaned against his mouth, utterly lost in it, and pressed his palm over Katsuki’s back, urging him forward. “Kacchan,” he whispered between kisses, voice wrecked, “you feel so good, you don’t even know—”

Katsuki’s breath hitched, eyes squeezing shut. He wanted to tell himself this was wrong, that he shouldn’t give in, shouldn’t enjoy it… but Izuku’s lips were warm, his hands greedy, his whole body desperate. And Katsuki, trembling on top of him, couldn’t stop the faint whimper that slipped out as he leaned in harder, kissing back at last.

Deku broke into a smile mid-kiss, dizzy with victory, with love, with everything he’d ever wanted finally in his arms. His hands roamed lower still, gripping Katsuki’s lower ass, “That’s it, Kacchan. Don’t hold back on me.”

Katsuki’s face burned scarlet, but his lips moved against Deku’s with shaky determination, letting the villain swallow up every bit of his resistance.

And oh Deku wasn’t about to give Katsuki even a second of control. The moment he felt those hesitant lips begin to move against his, he pounced on the opening, surging forward with a hunger that had been bottled up for years.

His hand slid up into Katsuki’s hair, fingers tangling tight at the nape of his neck, holding him right where he wanted him. The other hand clamped over his lower back, pulling, demanding, forcing Katsuki’s spine into a deeper arch until their chests pressed flush, no air left between them.

Katsuki gasped into the kiss, hands trembling uselessly against Deku’s shoulders. He wasn’t allowed to set the pace, wasn’t allowed to think, Deku devoured him, teeth nipping, tongue teasing, dragging every shaky sound out of him. Katsuki whimpered low in his throat, hating how it made Deku groan with satisfaction.

“Good boy,” Deku panted against his lips, voice wrecked with need. He arched him harder, locking Katsuki tighter against him. “Just kiss me back, that’s all I want. Don’t fight it, Kacchan. Don’t you dare fight me.”

Katsuki’s mouth clung desperately to Deku, his knees sinking deeper into the couch on either side of Izuku’s hips. His heart was hammering so fast it almost hurt, and yet he couldn’t stop.

Deku’s grip shifted, sliding down to cup Katsuki’s thigh, squeezing hard enough to make him gasp again. “That’s it… that’s what I want. You’re so perfect like this.”

Katsuki’s face burned, his throat bobbing with a swallow as he tried to steady his breath. He hated how much he liked being touched like this, pinned, handled, kissed until his head spun. He hated it. He should hate it.

With Deku’s hand pressed into the curve of his back, forcing him to stay arched and trembling, with their mouths moving together in frantic heat, Katsuki couldn’t lie to himself anymore.

He wanted it.

And Deku, grinning into the kiss, knew it.

He broke from the kiss only when he absolutely had to, dragging in a shaky breath before his mouth crashed down again, but this time lower. His lips trailed along Katsuki’s jaw, then dipped, open-mouthed and hungry, to his throat.

Katsuki jolted, a raw sound catching in his chest. “Deku—”

“Shhh,” Deku whispered hotly against his skin, already dragging his tongue over the racing pulse at Katsuki’s neck. He bit down gently, then soothed the sting with another wet kiss. “You taste so good, Kacchan. Fucking hell..”

Katsuki’s head tipped back without his permission, throat exposed, lips parted as Deku devoured him. Every drag of teeth, every press of lips sent a shiver skittering down his spine. Katsuki's hips began twitching downward against Deku’s.

That tiny movement set Deku alight. With a deep, desperate groan, he slid his hands down Katsuki’s sides and locked them over his hips, yanking him flush. Their bodies collided in a grinding, fevered rhythm that made Katsuki gasp against Deku’s ear.

“Ah—! S-stop— T-too much—” Katsuki tried to snarl, but it came out broken, a stuttered whine. The friction was unlike anything he’d ever felt, hot, rough, his stomach clenching with every drag of his body over Deku’s.

Deku swallowed his protests with another bite to his neck, licking the mark afterward like he owned it. “Don’t lie, Kacchan… I can feel it. You like this. Have you ever felt this before? I don't think so.” His words were gravel and silk all at once, curling into Katsuki’s head like poison he couldn’t resist.

Katsuki’s nails dug into Deku’s shoulders as if holding on would keep him steady, but his hips betrayed him, grinding back without thinking. A moan spilled out of him before he could catch it, humiliatingly needy.

Deku’s pupils blew wide, hips snapping up to meet every drag. “God—look at you. My Kacchan, my perfect boy, finally letting me have you like this.”

Katsuki’s face burned crimson, his chest heaving, his body moving against Deku’s in frantic rhythm. It was a brand new feeling, overwhelming and terrifying. Yet it felt so good.

Katsuki clings even tighter to Deku, his nails curling against Deku’s shoulders as their bodies rock together, the rhythm quickening with Deku’s insistent thrusts. Katsuki’s head tips down, breath hitching, lips brushing against Deku’s ear.

Through ragged breaths, he whispers, “I’ll let you fuck me… but only if you promise me something.” His voice cracks, a mix of longing and desperation.

Deku slows just a fraction, chest heaving, lips trembling against Katsuki’s skin. “Anything,” he breathes, almost without hesitation.

Katsuki swallows hard, forcing out the words that hurt even as he says them. “You have to let me go, Deku. When this is over—you let me walk away. You let me have my life back. Forever.”

The room feels like it stops breathing. Deku’s thrusts falter, his entire body seizing with the weight of Katsuki’s condition. His lips hover against Katsuki’s ear, shuddering with something between refusal and heartbreak.

But Katsuki presses on, tears catching in his lashes, whispering again, more broken this time, “Promise me.”

Deku’s breath shudders against Katsuki’s temple, his hands trembling as they slip lower, fumbling with the button of Katsuki’s pants. His answer comes out hoarse, almost a growl.

“No.”

Katsuki’s whole body jerks, his eyes snapping open as he grips Izuku’s shoulders. “Deku—” his voice cracks, half sob, half warning. “That’s the deal. We cant—”

“I don’t care,” Deku cuts him off, the words sharp but breaking at the edges. His lips brush over the shell of Katsuki’s ear, desperate, feverish. “I can’t let you go. Not now. Not ever.”

The zipper comes down under Deku’s shaking fingers, his breath hot and uneven against Katsuki’s neck. Katsuki’s chest heaves, torn between the ache of wanting and the devastation of knowing Deku probably won’t grant him the freedom he begged for.

“Please, Deku,” Katsuki whispers, his throat raw, his tears slipping hot and silent down his face. “If you love me… you’ll let me go.”

Deku freezes only a moment, his forehead pressing hard to Katsuki’s as if the closeness might drown out the words. His whisper comes out ragged, final, almost a sob itself.

“I do love you. That’s why I can’t.”

Katsuki’s chest heaved, every breath shaky, every tear that slipped past his lashes burning his skin. His throat ached from holding back sobs, but he couldn’t stop them.

His hands moved on their own. Clumsy, trembling fingers found their way to Deku’s shirt, gripping the fabric in tight fists before he moved his fingers under. His tears stained the cotton as his face pressed into Izuku’s shoulder, muffling the raw sound that broke out of him.

“Damn it, Deku…” Katsuki’s voice was barely audible, hoarse and shaking. He shoved harder at the fabric, baring more of Deku’s skin. “We’ll talk about it after, okay? Just—just after…”

Deku stilled, wide-eyed, pupils blown so dark they almost swallowed the green. His chest rose and fell against Katsuki’s palms, each shaky tug on his shirt pulling him closer to the edge of something he couldn’t come back from.

“After?” Deku whispered, desperate, as if clinging to the single word.

Katsuki didn’t answer, not directly. His hands were unsteady, fumbling with the hem until the shirt finally came off, baring Deku’s chest and abs.

Deku cupped Katsuki’s face instantly, kissing his cheeks, his jaw, anywhere the tears ran. His voice cracked with reverence. “You’re so beautiful like this. Even when you’re crying, especially when you're crying, Kacchan—you’re mine.”

Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut, another sob wracking through him, but his hands didn’t stop. They trailed down Deku’s sides, shaky but determined, tugging at the waistband of his pants. His voice cracked open as he breathed against Deku’s mouth, “After, Deku. We’ll talk after…”

Deku nodded too fast, too eagerly, lifting his hips up to help Katsuki take his pants off. “After,” he promised, though the way he dragged Katsuki down into another hungry kiss said he had no intention of letting go.

Deku’s hands shook, not from hesitation, but from hunger, as he gripped Katsuki’s hero suit and yanked it off in one ruthless motion. The fabric tore at the seams with the force, buttons scattering across the floor, and Katsuki gasped as cool air kissed his damp skin. Leaving nothing but his boxers on. Deku didn’t pause. He didn’t want to pause. Every layer between them felt like an insult, a wall he needed to tear down with his teeth if he had to.

Katsuki’s trembling fingers had just barely started to curl into Deku’s waistband when Deku slapped his hands aside, pinning his wrists into the couch with a strength that made Katsuki’s stomach drop. “No,” Deku hissed against his lips, pupils wide, breath hot. “You don’t get to take charge. Not now. Not ever.”

Katsuki whimpered before he could bite it back, arching despite himself. Deku devoured the sound, teeth sinking into the crook of his neck, biting hard enough to make Katsuki’s eyes roll back.

“I’ll do everything,” Deku panted, already tugging Katsuki’s pants down, already stripping himself bare in ragged, desperate movements. And then Deku’s voice changed. It softened, twisted into something sick with devotion. His forehead pressed against Katsuki’s temple, lips trembling against his ear. “Call me Izuku.”

Katsuki blinked, disoriented through tears and heat. “…What?”

“Not Deku. Not villain. Not freak.” Izuku pulled back just enough to lock their gazes, his own eyes wide and glassy, green consumed by black. “My name is Izuku. Your Izuku. Say it, Kacchan. Say it like you mean it.”

Katsuki’s throat worked, his lips parting on a shaky exhale. He wanted to scoff, wanted to fight, but his chest clenched at the way Izuku looked at him, raw and pleading and terrifying all at once. His voice cracked when he finally whispered, “…Izuku.”

The sound nearly undid Izuku. He grinded hard against Katsuki, a broken laugh tearing out of him as he clutched Katsuki tighter. “Yes—fuck, yes. Again.”

“…Izuku.” This time stronger, teeth grit, eyes wet.

Izuku’s grin curved too wide, too sharp. “Perfect,” he breathed, before dragging Katsuki down into another kiss, feral and wet, every movement screaming mine.

Katsuki shivered, his body pressing closer against Izuku's. He could feel the hardness of his cock, could feel the way it rubbed against his own. He let out a soft moan, his hands reaching up to grasp Izuku's shoulders.

Izuku quickly moved his hands to Katsuki's ass, gripping it tightly as he somehow pushed him farther into the couch cushions. Katsuki gasped, his body immediately arching against Izuku's.

Izuku's mouth moved to Katsuki's neck again, swallowing all his moans, teeth grazing against skin. Practically swallowing him whole. Katsuki let out a soft cry, his body shuddering.

Izuku then slowly started taking off Katsuki's boxers.

He had imagined this a thousand different ways, let his mind wander in stolen moments where he wasn’t being watched, where he could breathe without the League’s eyes on him. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared him for the reality of Katsuki’s body revealed. Skin pale but dusted with faint warmth, the stretch of hard-earned muscle and sharp edges carved from fire and rage. His beautiful waist. It was everything Izuku had ever wanted to touch.

His breath hitched, the villainy in his blood warring with something purer, softer. Katsuki wasn’t just beautiful, he was ruinous. Every scar mapped a story Izuku wanted to know with his tongue, every line of muscle begged to be claimed. It wasn’t just lust, it was reverence wrapped in hunger, a hunger that burned through Izuku’s chest until it hurt.

Katsuki laid there, defiant even stripped of everything, and Izuku’s mouth went dry. His eyes dragged lower, unashamed, drinking in every forbidden inch. “God,” he rasped, half to himself, half to the man before him, “you’re—” The word stuck, because “perfect” felt too clean, too simple. Katsuki was not perfection. He was chaos, temptation, filth and fire dressed in golden skin. And Izuku wanted every part of it, wanted to taint it, worship it, tear it apart and piece it back together until there was no difference between sinner and saint.

Izuku quickly moved his hands to Katsuki's cock, stroking it slowly as he carried on, continuing to kiss and bite his neck. Katsuki’s body stole every ounce of composure he had. Fingers brushed the jut of Izuku’s collarbone, trailing down over the hard plane of his chest.

Izuku’s lips followed, grazing along the same path, slow and reverent, like he was worshipping something holy while his thoughts dripped filth. He licked across the scars, lingered at the tight muscle of Katsuki’s stomach, teeth scraping lightly as if he couldn’t decide between devotion and destruction. Katsuki’s body was a canvas of survival, and Izuku wanted to paint it with his own story, tongue, teeth, fingerprints pressed too deep to fade.

When Izuku’s hand finally drifted lower and off his cock, curling around Katsuki’s thighs with a grip that was far too steady for how frantic his pulse felt, he let out a broken laugh against his skin. “You don’t even know, Kacchan,” he whispered, voice husky, rough, “how long I’ve wanted to ruin you like this. How long I’ve wanted to see you, writhing, begging, undone beneath me.” The villain’s eyes gleamed, green gone dark with obsession.

Katsuki then froze when Izuku’s hand came up, two fingers hovering just in front of his lips. The command wasn’t a request, wasn’t gentle or hesitant, it was raw, sharp, a blade wrapped in silk. “Suck them,” Izuku said, his voice low, the kind of voice that carried no room for disobedience. “Get them wet for me.”

Heat flushed Katsuki’s face instantly, a mix of fury and something darker twisting in his gut. He wanted to snap, to bare his teeth, to spit out a refusal just to prove he couldn’t be controlled. But Izuku’s gaze, burning, unyielding, reverent in its own twisted way, pinned him in place. Katsuki’s chest rose and fell too fast, anger tangled with arousal until he couldn’t separate them anymore.

“Y—you think I’m just gonna—” His words choked off when Izuku pressed the tips against his lower lip, slow, deliberate. Katsuki’s body betrayed him, lips parting on instinct before his mind could catch up. His breath caught, shaky, and his pride shrieked at the humiliation of it.

Reluctantly, Katsuki’s tongue darted out, slicking the digits, a muffled growl vibrating in his throat. His glare never left Izuku’s, even as his lips closed around the fingers, sucking them down deeper than he meant to. The villain groaned low, possessive, and Katsuki hated the shiver that ran down his spine at the sound.

Eventually after a bit, Izuku's fingers, slick with Katsuki's wetness, drifted lower, tracing circles around his tight entrance, a gentle yet insistent rhythm that had Katsuki's breath coming in soft gasps. The hero’s body was a study in contrast. His muscles tensed and ready, yet his eyes closed, lips slightly parted, a soft whimper escaping as Izuku's touch teased and probed.

The villain’s fingers, skilled and patient, worked their magic, rubbing against the sensitive flesh, pushing just enough to make Katsuki's hole stretch and accommodate. With each slow, deliberate thrust, Katsuki responded, the muscles relaxing, inviting more. Izuku's touch was a dance, a delicate balance of pressure and precision as he slowly opened Katsuki up, his fingers sliding in and out, scissoring and stretching.

Katsuki's whimpers grew louder, his body trembling as the pleasure built. He could feel the heat building between his legs, the sensation of being filled, even if it was just by Izuku's fingers. The gentle invasion was a tease, a promise of more. Katsuki's breath hitched as he fought to maintain control, not wanting to cum too soon.

But Izuku, dominant and knowing, had other plans. His mouth, hot and insistent, captured Katsuki's, tongues tangling, a deep, wet kiss that mirrored the action below. His fingers pumped faster now, a relentless rhythm, and with a sudden, expert twist, he found that perfect spot, that sweet, sensitive bundle of nerves.

Katsuki's back arched, legs tightening, a strangled cry escaping as the pleasure overwhelmed him. “Fuck right there Izuku—” His virgin ass clenched tight around Izuku's fingers, the muscles spasming, and with a final, relentless thrust, Izuku pushed him over the edge. Katsuki's cum shot out, a hot, wet release, as his body shook with the force of his orgasm. “Ah—Yes!!”

His fingers slowly came to a stop, his kiss softening as he let Katsuki ride out the waves of pleasure. The blond's body, once tense and ready, now relaxed, limp in the aftermath. Izuku's gentle touch soothed, his fingers stroking Katsuki's hair, a silent comfort as they lay nearly entangled.

But the heat between them was far from extinguished. Izuku's gaze, intense and hungry, promised more, and Katsuki, his ass now well-stretched, knew that the best was yet to come.

Katsuki’s back fell, chest heaving, skin still slick with sweat. His muscles twitched from the intensity of it, from the way Izuku had wrung him out with nothing but his hand and those goddamn fingers. It burned Katsuki alive inside to know he’d come like that.

Izuku was now laying beside him, fingers glistening faintly in the dim light, watching every rise and fall of Katsuki’s chest like it was sacred. He didn’t look triumphant. He looked… ravenous. Possessive. “You came so beautifully for me,” he murmured, almost reverent, his voice low and rough. “I knew you would. What a good Kacchan. Such a good boy”

Katsuki’s glare was weak, breath still ragged. “Shut the fuck up,” he growled, though his voice cracked in the middle, betraying him. His face was hot, his pride shredded to ribbons. “You think this means you—”

Izuku leaned down, silencing him with a kiss slow enough to feel like a claim rather than a comfort. When he pulled back, their mouths still brushing, he whispered, “It means you’re mine. It means I can make you fall apart without even taking you yet.” His smile was crooked, dangerous, but his eyes were too soft, too in love for someone who called himself a villain. “And you’ll let me do it again.”

Katsuki swallowed hard, looking away, shame and lingering pleasure tangled so tight he couldn’t separate them. His body was still humming, traitorous in how badly it already missed Izuku’s touch. He wanted to deny it, to spit venom, to keep some distance between them. But all he managed was a shaky exhale and a rasped, “Fuck you, De-Izuku.”

Izuku chuckled, the sound dark but tender. “Soon love.”

Katsuki slightly pouted when Izuku started to move away from him, the cushions dipping as the nerd slid lower, lips dragging across sweat-slick skin. Each kiss was unhurried, deliberate, as if Izuku was carving the moment into memory. Down Katsuki’s chest, over the sharp cut of his stomach, tongue tracing the ridges of muscle like they were holy scripture.

Katsuki stiffened when Izuku reached lower, when his lips hovered just above the mess across his skin. “I-Izuku—” he started, voice rough with warning, but it caught in his throat the second Izuku’s tongue pressed flat and hot against his abdomen, licking up his cum slow and purposeful. Izuku moaned at the taste, and the sound sent a shiver tearing through Katsuki’s body.

There was nothing shy about it. Izuku licked up everything Katsuki had spilled, savoring every drop, chasing it down his stomach and over the sharp lines of his hips, worshipping him in the dirtiest way possible. His hands gripped Katsuki’s thighs, thumbs pressing hard enough to bruise, holding him still when Katsuki shifted restlessly beneath the assault.

By the time Izuku lifted his head again, his mouth was wet, lips glistening with evidence of what he’d taken. He looked dazed, drunk on Katsuki, green eyes locked on him like he was something precious and profane all at once. “You taste like candy,” he whispered hoarsely, licking his lips. “I’ll never get over this.”

Katsuki’s whole body was humming, every nerve ending raw and sparking from the way Izuku’s mouth had devoured him. He lay there rigid, chest heaving, his thoughts a tangled snarl of what the fuck am I doing and don’t stop. For a moment he tried to hold on to the last shreds of his pride, to tell himself he could still shove Izuku off, still spit venom until the bastard left him alone.

But Izuku lifted his head, lips slick and shining, eyes glazed with obsession, Katsuki’s mind snapped. The words caught in his throat, sharp, desperate, humiliating. He turned his face away, but the sound broke free anyway, rough and almost pleading.

“Fuck,” he hissed, fists knotting in the coushin. “Izuku—just… just fuck me already.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Katsuki’s pulse hammered in his ears, his chest tightening like he’d just handed Izuku his soul on a silver platter. His voice shook when he added, “I can’t— I can’t take you doing this shit to me and not. You hear me? I need—” His breath hitched, the word burned his throat, but he forced it out. “I need you inside me.”

It was the first time he’d ever begged, the first time he’d ever admitted aloud what his body had been screaming for. And the worst part, the part that made his face burn and his stomach twist, was that he meant it. Izuku’s relentless worship had stripped him down, cracked him open until all that was left was raw, aching want.

Izuku’s smile was slow, dangerous, almost disbelieving. He reached out, cupping Katsuki’s flushed face, thumb swiping tenderly across his cheek even as his eyes darkened with hunger. “Say it again,” he murmured. “Beg me again, Kacchan.”

Katsuki's breath caught in his throat. That command, delivered with such quiet confidence, sent a jolt of desire coursing through his veins. He felt exposed, vulnerable, yet a part of him thrilled at the thought of giving in, of surrendering to Izuku's will.

"Please," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I need you, Izuku. I can't take it anymore. Fuck me. Take me, please." His eyes, usually sharp and fierce, now held a pleading look, a raw need that he couldn't hide.

Izuku's smile widened, a victorious curve, as if he'd expected nothing less. He leaned in, his breath warm on Katsuki's ear, and whispered, "You know I will, Kacchan. But first, let me savor this. Let me worship you, my beautiful submissive."

Katsuki's body trembled at the words, the term 'submissive' a sweet poison, a label he'd never thought to embrace. He’ll embrace the role Izuku offered. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of Izuku's hands on his body, the gentle yet firm touch that promised so much more.

Izuku's fingers trailed down Katsuki's chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, teasing, caressing, and then, with a sudden boldness, he grabbed Katsuki's sensitive cock, a firm grip that made him shiver and gasp. Izuku's touch was electric, a current that shot straight to Katsuki's core, making him arch into the touch, his hips pushing forward, seeking more.

"So hard for me," Izuku murmured, his voice a seductive purr. “Even after cumming, you want this kacchan?”

Katsuki nodded, unable to form words, his throat tight with emotion. He felt Izuku's gaze on him, intense and hungry, as if Izuku was memorizing every inch of his body, every reaction, every moan and gasp. It was a worshipful gaze, one that made Katsuki feel cherished and desired, and yet, there was an edge of dominance that sent a thrill through his veins.

"Please," he begged again, his voice breaking. "Take me, Izuku. Show me what it means to be yours."

Izuku's smile turned predatory, a dangerous beauty that sent more shivers down Katsuki's spine.

It was like a flip switched. Izuku quickly switches their positions on the couch, doggy style now. Manhandling Katsuki to be on his hands and knees, face down into a pillow.

The room was quickly filled with the sound of their ragged breaths and the sound of their bodies meeting, the wet smack of flesh against flesh, filled the room.

Izuku's thrusts were brutal, each one driving Katsuki forward. He dug his fingers into the couch cushions for support. His moans growing louder and louder.

Izuku's hands found Katsuki’s hip, fingers digging deeply into them, his grip unyielding as he thrusts into him with a fierce, unrelenting rhythm.

Katsuki's body arched wildly, his breath coming in gasps and moans. His moans were unlike anything Izuku had ever heard. Raw, desperate, and filled with a primal hunger that matched his own. His chest tightened, a rush of heat spreading from his stomach straight to his throat.

Katsuki’s voice had always been sharp, commanding, filled with fire. But oh his moans.. they were loud yet soft, trembling, vulnerable. It made Izuku’s heart ache and his body thrum with want all at once.

His fingers curled harder against Katsuki’s hips, possessive. Those sounds were for him. Only him. The thought hit with dizzying force. He leaned closer, lips brushing Katsuki’s ear, whispering like he couldn’t stop himself, voice breaking with awe.

“Kacchan… y-you sound… so—God, you’re beautiful.” Izuku couldn’t look away from his flushed face, couldn’t stop chasing more. Every moan felt like a gift, and he was so addicted.

He leaned forward, his teeth sinking into his neck, marking him as his. Katsuki cried out, his body trembling beneath Izuku's touch.

Izuku's voice was a low growl, a command that echoed in the room. "Fuck.. Beg louder, Kacchan." Katsuki's hands fisted in the cushions, his body pushing back against Izuku's thrusts. "Harder," he gasped. "Izu.. I need more."

Izuku chuckled, a dark, seductive sound. "Kacchan you need to be good and beg. You can do that for me right?” He says, still pounding into him. Katsuki's body tensed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Yes. Please." he begged. "Please, Izuku. I need you."

Izuku's thrusts became more brutal, more relentless. He could feel Katsuki's body responding, his muscles tightening around his cock. He leaned closer, his teeth grazing Katsuki's ear. "You're mine, Kacchan. Say it."

Katsuki's response was a guttural moan, his body arching as Izuku's fingers dug deeper into his flesh. "Yours," he gasped, his voice barely audible. "I'm yours, Izuku."

He could feel the heat of Katsuki's skin, could smell the musky scent of their arousal. He wanted more. He wanted everything. He pulled back, his body trembling with the effort of restraint. "Again," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Say it again."

Katsuki's body shuddered, his head falling forward as he repeated the words. "I'm yours, Izuku."

Izuku moaned as his hands moved to Katsuki's chest, his fingers tracing the hard planes of his muscles. He could feel the rapid beat of Katsuki's heart. His face grazing Katsuki's shoulder, his hands moving lower, tracing the lines of his body.

"You're beautiful, Kacchan," Izuku murmured, his voice filled with awe. "So strong, so powerful. I want to see you come undone, baby. I want to see you lose control."

Katsuki's body shuddered at the pet name, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Izuku," he moaned, his voice filled with desperation. "Please, Izuku."

Izuku's hands moved all around Katsuki’s body, groping him. Fingers tracing the line of his spine, his hips, his thighs. He could feel the heat radiating off of Katsuki's body, could see the way his muscles tensed and released with each touch. " Please what? Beg for it. Beg for me to make you cum."

“O-oh fuck–” Katsuki's body shuddered, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Barely being able to keep his body up. "I-Izuku," he moaned, his voice filled with desperation. "Please, God. Make me cum."

"Yeah Kacchan. Cum for me, Kacchan. Let me feel you."

Katsuki's body quickly tensed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Izuku—" he cried out. "Izuku, I'm cumming!!"

Izuku's body shuddered, his own orgasm ripping through him. He thrusts into Katsuki one last time, his body shuddering as he cums. Filling Katsuki up as deeply as he can.

Katsuki's body was limp beneath him, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He leaned forward, lips grazing his ear. "You're mine, Kacchan. Remember that." He said, oddly soft for what they just did.

Katsuki's body shuddered, his voice a soft, contented sigh. "I’ll always remember, Izuku. I'll never forget."

Izuku pulls out eventually, Katsuki whining softly. His body quickly goes limp, collapsing right beside Katsuki. He shoved his face in his neck, kissing it slowly while murmuring. "Again," he whispered. "I want you again."

Katsuki's body shuddered, his voice a soft, "Izuku.. We can't…”

Izuku froze. The sound of his name, spoken so raw and unguarded, carved right through the armor he’d built around himself. He moved up and pressed his lips gently to Katsuki’s temple, holding him closer, as though he could mold their bodies together and never have to let go.

Before, it had been easy to say no to Kacchan. Easy to say he would never let him go. Kacchan had just been another prize, a treasure he stole from the world because no one else deserved him. Letting him go was never a part of the plan.

But now… now he had felt him, breathed him in, learned the way his voice cracked and his body shuddered when he moaned out Izuku’s name. Now Izuku knew what it meant to have Katsuki in a way no one else ever would.

And suddenly, the thought of release felt like ripping open his own chest. A new chapter. He came to terms with himself earlier that this would mean Katsuki would still be his in memory no matter what.

“You don’t know how much I want to keep you,” Izuku whispered, his voice breaking against Katsuki’s skin. “Over and over again, forever. But if I did… I’d ruin you. And I can’t do that to you, Kacchan.”

Katsuki’s eyes fluttered open, heavy with exhaustion but sharp enough to catch the grief in Izuku’s. His hand found Izuku’s wrist, squeezing weakly, as though to anchor him. “You already ruined me, dumbass,” he murmured, but there was no bite in it, only a trembling affection.

Izuku let out a strangled laugh, burying his face deeper into Katsuki’s neck. He kissed him there, soft and lingering, memorizing every detail. “Then promise me,” he said against his pulse. “Promise you’ll live. Promise you’ll go back out there and keep shining, even if I can’t be by your side.”

Katsuki swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll live. But I’ll never forget this… never forget you.”

Izuku lingered, one last moment of warmth, before slowly pulling away. His hands trembled as he cleaned and dressed him, careful, almost reverent. Every brush of fabric against Katsuki’s skin felt like a countdown, each zipper zipped, another nail in the coffin of his resolve.

When Katsuki was finally ready, Izuku drew in a shaky breath and stood. The room was quiet except for their uneven breathing. For a moment, he almost wished someone from the league would come crashing through the door, discipline him and chain Katsuki up again. But no one came. It was only the two of them, as it should have been, if the world wasn't set up like this.

He reached for Katsuki’s hand and tugged gently, leading him toward the window. The night air spilled through the cracked frame, cool and sharp, a reminder of the freedom waiting just outside. Izuku hated it. He wanted the world shut out, wanted the walls to stay high and unbroken so no one could take Katsuki from him.

Katsuki hesitated at the sill, glancing back at him. His eyes were tired but clear, softer than Izuku had ever seen them in the short time they spent together. “This is it, huh?” he asked, his voice low.

Izuku’s throat worked, but words didn’t come. Instead, he lifted a hand to Katsuki’s cheek, thumb brushing over skin he knew he’d ache for the moment it was gone. “I don’t want it to be,” he admitted, raw and quiet. “But you deserve more than these four walls. More than me keeping you here.”

Katsuki leaned into the touch, just for a heartbeat, then covered Izuku’s hand with his own. “You can't keep me Izuku. Not really. I’ll make sure to carry your memory with me.” He smiled, crooked and soft.

That undid him. Izuku leaned forward and kissed him, not the hungry, desperate kisses from before, but slow and aching, a seal pressed into memory. When he pulled back, his voice broke. “Go, before I change my mind.”

Katsuki lingered, eyes searching his face, as though committing him to memory in return. His lips parted, but for once no sharp words came out. Instead, his eyes brimmed with tears, and his shoulders shook as he tried to hold them back.

“I hate this,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I hate that you dragged me into this, that it started like… like this. But somewhere tonight—” he broke off, a sob catching in his throat. “Somewhere tonight, I fucking fell for you. I love you Izuku.”

Izuku’s chest caved inward, breath shuddering as the confession landed heavy and sweet and devastating all at once. This is what he wished for for years. Katsuki loving him back. His Kacchan. He wanted to clutch him tighter, chain him to the moment, never let him slip away. But instead, he leaned in one last time, brushing Katsuki’s tears away with trembling fingers, kissing them from his cheeks like vows he couldn’t keep.

“Then love me enough to leave, save yourself before it's too late Kacchan.” Izuku whispered.

More tears streaked down Katsuki’s face, and he bit down hard, shaking his head. “I hate you, Izuku. I hate you for doing this to me… for making me feel like this.”

Izuku’s chest twisted, but instead of flinching, a soft chuckle slipped past his lips. He shook his head, brushing his thumb over Katsuki’s cheek, catching another tear. “No, you don’t,” he murmured. His smile was fragile, cracked at the edges. “If you really hated me, you wouldn’t be crying like this.”

Katsuki’s breath hitched, and before he could argue, Izuku pulled him in tight, crushing him against his chest. Katsuki’s fists quickly bunched in his shirt, knuckles white, as if letting go would kill him. He buried his face in Izuku’s neck, the warmth of his tears sinking into his skin.

“I don’t want to go,” Katsuki whispered, muffled and broken. “I don’t want this to be the end.”

Izuku’s arms tightened around him, desperate, trembling. “I don’t want it either,” he confessed into blond hair. “But if I keep you, Kacchan, I’ll destroy everything you are. And I love you too much to let that happen.”

They clung to each other like the world was falling apart around them, the silence of the room filled only with ragged breaths and the sound of two hearts breaking in unison. Izuku kissed the side of Katsuki’s head again and again, memorizing, branding the moment into himself as if it could make it last.

When he finally eased back just enough to look at him, Izuku pressed their foreheads together, eyes squeezed shut. “I’ll visit you soon, you know,” he whispered, voice soft but edged with that familiar mischievousness. “I promise we’ll meet again.”

It was half a vow, half a joke, the kind only a stalker could make.

Katsuki let out a broken laugh, smiling through his tears. “Tch… fucking creep,” he muttered, his voice shaking. But his hand lingered against Izuku’s chest, splayed over the frantic beat of his heart. “Guess I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

Izuku’s breath caught, and he almost pulled him back, almost begged him to stay. But instead, he just tucked a stray lock of blond hair behind Katsuki’s ear and kissed him one last time, slow, trembling, sealing everything they couldn’t say.

Katsuki’s tears spilled fresh as he turned toward the window. His body hesitated, shoulders tense, like every part of him was waiting for Izuku to call him back. To give him a reason not to leave.

But Izuku stayed silent, his hands hanging useless at his sides, nails biting into his palms.

Katsuki placed one hand on the sill, glancing back over his shoulder. His voice cracked, low and raw. “Don’t you forget me, Deku.”

Izuku’s lips quirked in the faintest, saddest smile. “As if I ever could.”

For a heartbeat, it felt like time stopped , two broken boys suspended between what they wanted and what they couldn’t have.

And then Katsuki lifted his leg over the frame, the night air washing over him like a final goodbye.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The streets were quiet when Katsuki finally made it home, the kind of silence that only came in the dead hours between night and morning. His key rattled in the lock, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he stepped back into his own apartment. The air was stale, untouched, but familiar. Safe.

His body felt heavy as he dropped his bag by the door and toed off his shoes. For a long moment he just stood there, back pressed against the door, head tipped back as he breathed out slow. He was home. He was free.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he squinted at the screen. Dozens of missed calls, unread messages, frantic alerts from his agency. With a grimace, he opened a new text and typed quickly.

‘I’m alive. I’m okay. Don’t send anyone.’

His thumb hovered over send, then pressed down. The message slipped off into the night, and Katsuki exhaled shakily, tossing the phone onto the couch.

He wandered into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water, then leaned against the counter, staring at nothing. His mind was a storm , Izuku’s hands on him, Izuku’s voice in his ear, the feel of being wanted and destroyed all at once. He pressed his palms over his face and growled low, but the memory clung like smoke. He never thought he would fall in love with a villain.

Eventually, exhaustion pulled him toward the bedroom. He stripped off his clothes, climbed into bed, and pulled the covers up to his chin. The sheets felt cold, empty, and he curled into them as though they might fill the hollow ache gnawing at his chest.

His eyes fluttered shut. For the first time in a day, he let himself believe it was over.

But then,

A buzz.

Katsuki’s phone lit up on the nightstand, vibrating softly against the wood. One new message. His stomach lurched, not really wanting to deal with the wrath of his team just yet.

But when the screen glared in the dark. A single text, unsigned.

‘Told you I’d visit soon.’

Katsuki’s blood ran cold, his breath caught in his throat. He sat up slowly, eyes darting to the shadowed corners of his room. The silence felt heavier now, suffocating, as though someone was there, watching.

And then, from somewhere in the apartment, a faint creak of the floorboards.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes:

hey so i didn't expect this to be this long haha. im sorry. but yeah i was working on it for quite some time i hope you all like it (its all so random i know) xx leave your feedback i love you alll

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