Imagine overstimulating Katsuki
Imagine Katsuki who starts out fine, it’s just a normal cold September night that was about to get a whole lot hotter.
Imagine Katsuki who pants quietly in the afterglow of your first round as he thinks you’ve tired yourself out, before confusion sinks in when you don’t stop.
Imagine Katsuki who gasps and then begins to beg for you to give him a second as you grind down on him, not even inside you yet. You just rubbed your soft folds over the sensitive skin of his length.
“W-wait Y/N- Fuck- j-just- what are- what’re you doing?..- I-“
Imagine Katsuki who lets out a soft whine and burns the sheet a little with his quirk because it hurt. It hurt in such a good and confusing way.
Imagine Katsuki whose face contorts in pleasure as you straddle his hips with your thighs, your chest against his abdomen while your tongue swirls around one of his sensitive buds.
Imagine Katsuki whose voice climb a pitch when your other hand slid up and down his side, drawing small shapes in the dip of his waist while nipping a bit at his nipple.
Imagine Katsuki who had long since given up of begging for a breath, now focused only on chasing his next orgasm.
Imagine Katsuki who watches in anticipation as you finally line yourself up to sink down on him.
Imagine Katsuki who yelps in pleasure, biting his lip to attempt at covering the effeminate sound, only to be riddled disappointment when you don’t even move.
Imagine Katsuki whose eyes begin to water in frustration. Why not just move? The feeling of you just warming him is worse than nothing at all.
Imagine Katsuki who just barely stays hanging on from the sharp cool pleasure of your tongue over his chest.
Imagine Katsuki who gasps when you finally move, eyes beginning to water while he was practically tearing his own hair out with his hands trying to hold his dignity.
Imagine Katsuki who’s too bombarded with sensations to even hear his own voice getting louder and louder with every passing moment.
Imagine Katsuki who finally cries when he cums, only to sob in overstimulation when you still don’t stop.
“P-please- Y-Y/N- d-on’t!- s’too much!”
Imagine Katsuki who whimpers and looks away when you sit up and balance yourself on your arm, using the other hand to make him look at you, telling him how pretty he looks with a bit a drool dribbling over his lips.
Imagine Katsuki who’d lie awake later that night with his ears so red he could’ve rivaled the dot on his countries flag, wondering why he now knew all it took to tear a man’s dignity from him, was to drive him so far he couldn’t think about it.
