MHA smut

make the call (to give it to you all)

Written by: Anonymous

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

Contains:

~ Autofellatio

Summary:

"Can you put your ankles behind your head, baby?"

Katsuki knows he can. He's seen Izuku do yoga, twisting himself up like a balloon animal. That shit makes Katsuki hard as fuck.

Izuku can't decide how he wants to be fucked. Katsuki always gives him everything.

_______________________________

In the Bakugou household, it's a typical Saturday night, Izuku and Katsuki's shared day off from work. Katsuki's technically on call tonight, and he's got his prosthetic in so he can be ready to go at the drop of a hat, but thankfully, his beeper remains seen but not heard.

Various articles of clothing lay strewn around them. They've been making out on the couch for what feels like hours as Izuku takes his sweet time deciding whether he wants to be fucked in the mouth or the ass.

It's apparently an excruciating decision, a real Solomon's Choice of sexual dilemmas, partly because Izuku doesn't usually have to make the calls. Katsuki is the one who likes to plan, thinking up what flavor he wants to dish out today, and Izuku's job is to be good and take it.

But sometimes, when Katsuki's feeling a little mean, he likes to put Izuku on the spot. Presents him with options when he knows Izuku's preference is all of above. He likes to watch him wrestle with a decision that is, in essence, inconsequential. Katsuki will bend over forwards and back to give him what he truly wants.

"So what's it gonna be, baby?"

"I don't know!" Izuku whines, pinned under Katsuki's hips and hand. He tries to grind against Katsuki's thigh, and Katsuki yanks back, pulling a frustrated groan from his lips. "Just—either! Both!"

"That's not an answer."

Izuku's eyes shine green and glassy as he stares up at him. "I want you. Please, Kacchan."

His words snatch Katsuki's heart in a fist, and Katsuki has no choice but to kiss the overflow of emotion into Izuku's open mouth. He's got such a pretty fucking mouth, smart and spit-slick and kiss-bruised. Katsuki would be stupid not to fuck that mouth.

On the other hand: Katsuki flexes his other hand, the robotic one that whirs quietly with the motion. He squeezes the flesh of Izuku's plump ass over his boxers. He thinks about how good it'd feel to fuck into him, to feel Izuku push back on his cock, how pretty Izuku cries for him when he keeps fucking him after he's come.

When they break apart for air, Izuku looks at him, dazed and needier than ever. His gaze slides to the side for a moment toward their low glass coffee table.

Toward a very specific spot on the glass table.

It's not the first time Izuku has faced this dilemma. And it's not the first time that they've problem-solved their way through it.

Katsuki smirks, nosing into Izuku's neck. "You thinkin' about two weeks ago?"

"M-Maybe." Izuku's skin is burning under the collar of his hoodie, the heat spreading up into his cheeks. Katsuki helps him out of the sweater; it makes his dark green curls wild and staticky. "That was really good. I liked that."

Katsuki did too. There's still a slight ring left over on the glass from the suction cup of the Dynamight dildo they'd stuck down for Izuku to ride while he sucked Katsuki's cock. Izuku had been extra mouthy that night, distracted by the toy, and Katsuki had taken forever to come, but damn if it wasn't viagra for his ego hearing Izuku babble about how much he wanted to gather all the versions of Kacchan and be filled by them all like something out of the filthy doujinshi that Mina and Denki whispered about together.