Bunny 💗

"look at you." eijiro murmured, lifting his head to look down at you with heavy eyes. "did you miss us this much, y/n?" of course you did.

you tried to answer, but katsuki's tongue swiped hard over your clit, turning your response into a loud moan. "don't ask her stupid shit when my mouth is full." katsuki grumbled against your wetness, his heavy hands locking onto your thighs. "just hold her down. she's about to break."

eijiro didn't hesitate, pinning your wrists above your head and locking his fingers with yours. "got her." he captured your loud whimpers with his lips onto yours while katsuki increased his pace until your hips buckled and you finally broke—thighs shaking as you came.

eijiro cooed softly against your lips, kissing away your breathless whimpers as your thighs continued to tremble. "that's it, good girl.." his thumb rubbed the back of your pinned hands.

the intense heat between you didn't fade for a second, and the sight of eijiro hovering over you—completely flushed and breathing heavily, made a desperate ache bloom deep in your chest. your mouth watered just thinking about tasting him after watching him hold his composure just to hold you down for katsuki.

he hovered over you, positioning himself right above your face. his hard, leaking cock nudged gently against your bottom lip. right on cue, you parted your lips eagerly, tilting your head back to take him all the way into your mouth.

letting out a guttural groan, eijiro’s hands tangled into your hair as he gently rolled his hips, letting you rest on your back while listening to your soft gags. "damn, your mouth feels good.." he whispered, more to himself, as he began to slide slowly against your tongue. "suck it, sweet girl. you really wanted this, huh?"

while you focused on eijiro, katsuki settled between your legs, hands smoothing over your thighs before gripping your hips possessively. "gonna fuck you so good. you'll feel me for a week.." he rasped, aligning his thick tip perfectly at the entrance of your soaked pussy.

the slow stretch of katsuki filling you completely made you moan against eijiro's dick.

they both groaned at the tight feel of you. "stretchin' around me like you were made for me." katsuki grumbled, smirking before he immediately broke into a fast pace. "absolute slut for both of us."

"she's so perfect." eijiro choked out, tightening his grip in your hair as katsuki's brutal pace made your throat clamp down. "look at how much she missed us."

"fuckin' better have." katsuki growled, pounding deep into you. "thought about this the whole time you were gone, didn't you? couldn't wait to get filled by both of us." he wasn't wrong—you were starved for their touch. you practically rolled your hips against katsuki's heavy thrusts while swallowing eijiro as deep as you could.

your breathless whimpers and the grip around katsuki's cock showed exactly how much you missed—needed them.

eijiro stared down at your flushed face, his eyes heavy with devotion. "you're doing so good for us.. almost there.."

katsuki gripped your waist, lifting you higher to angle you perfectly for his deep thrusts. "she's breaking again." he exhaled, his voice sounding raspy and needy. "fuck—gonna fill you up."

it was completely overwhelming. as katsuki hammered into you and eijiro filled your mouth, a huge wave of pleasure hit you. your walls clamped down around katsuki in a tight orgasm, pulsing so hard it pushed him right over the edge. he buried himself deep inside you, pumping thick ropes of semen deep against your cervix.

"f-fuck, i can't—" a split second later, eijiro let out a ragged, trembling sigh, his hips twitching forward as he came heavily down your throat, filling your mouth with his sweet, thick warmth.

every desperate touch made it clear just how starved they'd been for you, and by the greedy way you clung yourself to them, it was obvious the feeling was entirely mutual.

suckmyclituchiha

dude, no. NTA as long as you keep it in your pants.

notthatkentakakura

Mmm a little? I feel like you shouldn’t have a crush on your best friends girlfriend…

gogogokudolls

NTA. I fear we’ve all been there, my guy

6ixeyes

How gay are you for your bro????

Eijirō’s moving out. That’s the only logical course of events.

“Katsuki—! Oh my God—”

Eijirō groans, sinking a head into his hands. He threads fingers through his bright red hair and tugs. He’s going insane—he’s going to be in a straight jacket in two years if he doesn’t leave right now, this isn’t even fair, this is—

“Oh fuck, right there, right there, right there—”

What is the fucking point of walls. What is the fucking point, when it sounds like you’re right here.

Maybe, you guys don’t realize he’s home. Which is fair—by the time he got back, you two were already hidden away in Katsuki’s room. He should send a text, or knock on the door to be like hey, shut up please, or at least, put headphones in. But, no—instead, he chooses to torture himself, listening to you whine on his best friend’s cock.

“Yeah, Baby? You like that?”

The headboard slams hard enough to rattle the wall, and Eijirō debates on crying. He wants to see. He wants to see so bad that it hurts.

He suffers that night, just like he does all the others. Reddit doesn’t help, and neither does the throbbing between his thighs.

Eijirō likes to make breakfast. It’s the only meal he can make, really, other than chicken and rice. And broccoli—he can make broccoli. But, since you moved in, he likes making breakfast for a different reason.

“G’mornin’, Eiji.”

You come in yawning, bleary eyed and bra-less, just the way he likes. He doesn’t let his eyes drift the expanse of your thighs for too long—just enough to remember until tomorrow morning. Until he sees you in those shorts, again.

“Hey! How’d you sleep?”

Because, he slept horribly. He fell asleep halfway through the sex marathon, and doesn’t know if he had a wet dream, or heard you past the fuzz of slumber. Either way, he fell asleep at two and woke up at six, wholly unrested.

“Mm…good…” You stumble over to the fancy coffee machine he bought for Katsuki’s birthday last year. You maneuver around the kitchen with half a mind, and Eijirō tries to avoid burning breakfast. God forbid Katsuki wakes up to the smoke alarm in a panic, worried the world is on fire. You open the fridge to get water, nearly hitting yourself upside the head with the door, and Eijirō snorts, catching your forehead from his spot by the island.

You sniff, blearily blinking up with a nod as a thank you. “What’cha making?”

“Pancakes,” he grins, gesturing to the freshly poured griddle. “Try not to concuss yourself before then?”

“No promises,” you mumble past a sleepy smile, and its cute enough to make his heart hurt. He returns it, hoping it comes across less endearing than he feels. You shuffle closer to watch pancake batter bubble under the heat. “Ugh, pancakes are gonna hit. Thank you.”

You let out a moan, one that sounds a little too similar to what he heard through the walls last night. He focuses on flipping the pancakes with an unsteady hand, refusing to feel the edges of your molecules when you get too close.

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” he preaches with a laugh, and you nod vehemently in agreement. The coffee machine starts to whirr.

“Yeah, ‘n if not for you, I’d be having straight coffee for breakfast.”

“That’s…horrible,” he realizes aloud, and you snort in response, collapsing your face into his arm. His arm, which is, now, nearly pinned between your breasts—and Eijirō wants to cry for the twentieth time this week. “You should definitely not do that.”

“But, I don’t even like breakfast,” you whine, jutting out a bottom lip. Eijirō takes a very deep breath, before flipping the last pancake. He fucks it up, and the battered side folds in half.

Then, he remembers what you just said, and frowns. “You eat it, though—I’ve seen you.”

“I eat your breakfast,” you argue sleepily, and the coffee machine beeps for attention. You leave to grab the full cup, leaving his right side much colder than you found it. “You cook good breakfast.”

Eijirō isn’t fully sure what you mean by that, but beams nonetheless. “Thank y—”

Katsuki stretches in the kitchen doorway. Languid like a cat, with arms above his head, and groaning loud enough to startle. He’s shirtless, and Eijirō does not see the purpling hickey on his neck. Does not.

Katsuki waltzes over to you and drapes himself across your shoulders, eyes swollen and voice rugged from sleep. He steals a kiss from your cheek before asking, “Coffee.”

You hum, lifting the mug closer to his collapsed self. “Want some?”

Katsuki scrunches a nose and shakes his head, only for his face to end up in your neck. “Not from you.”

That earns him a gasp and a flick in the forehead, both of which Katsuki takes in stride. He snickers into your skin, biting behind your ear until you yelp, with a hand tight around your hip to ensure you don’t squirm to far.

And, it’s sickening.

It’s sickening, because these are the moments when Eijirō doesn’t quite know who he wishes to be—you, or his best friend. Katsuki mutes a smile in your skin, and Eijirō wants to feel it, but he also wants his hand on your hip, and he wants, he wants—

“Oi, Shitty Hair—the pancakes are on fire.”

Eijirō looks down at charred circles he once called pancakes. He wants to cry.

With a snort, Katsuki moves past you to grab a plate. Then, he’s nudging Eijirō in the shoulder, and the redhead starts plating the useless ones with a pout.

“I can’t believe I messed up the first batch,” he whines, because now they’ll have half the amount they normally would for leftovers. And, he was sort of hoping to not cook breakfast tomorrow. (Though, he’s not as sad about it as he’d like to be—which makes him even more annoyed with himself, in turn.)

Katsuki just rolls his eyes, setting the burnt plate aside, probably to let it cool before throwing it away. “What the fuck was so fascinating outside?”

Eijirō’s eyes flicker to the window he was allegedly looking out of—he doesn’t really remember, to be honest—and irritation floods his being tenfold as he huffs, “Dude, literally nothing. Literally zoned out.”

Which is a half-lie—he did zone out—and luckily, Katsuki’s back is turned to grab the bowl of batter, so he doesn’t have to look him in the eyes. Eijirō can lie, as long as he isn’t looking Katsuki in the eyes.

But, Katsuki turns around with a knowing smirk, like he does know it’s a lie. That makes Eijirō doubt his lying capabilities.

“Uh-huh,” he hums, and starts pouring pancakes in perfect circles while barely looking. Which, Eijirō thinks is wholly unfair—he has to really lock in, and even then, they come out vaguely dinosaur shaped. Don’t ask him why. He doesn’t know.

“Ooh! I want a heart pancake!”

Katsuki eyes finally leave Eijirō—thank God, he can breathe now—to narrow at you. “…Baby. I just poured the last one.”

But, Katsuki knows you’re not going to let up, as does Eijirō. You have that look in your eyes when you want something, and want it now.

Before you can even open your mouth, Katsuki’s warning, “Wait for the next batch.”

You whine and melt, propping your chin onto the island counter with the biggest pout known to man. The most effective pout, because Eijirō would fold for it time and time again, if he had the chance.

“But, I want it now,” you whimper, and while Katsuki sighs out of his nose, Eijirō has an idea.

He walks over to a small cupboard, the one with the straws and syrup cups, and dips a hand between both for a container of toothpicks. Thanks to Katsuki, they always have some on deck—because, every time they go out to eat, Katsuki is convinced he has something in his teeth, and simultaneously convinced that everyone is lying to him, including his phone camera. So, Eijirō sacrifices one of Katsuki’s holy toothpicks to bend a bubbling pancake into a heart. It only kind of works.

“Fuckin—no, Shitty Hair, y’gotta start from the middle an’ go down—”

“No! Start with the edges first! If he takes too long, my heart is gonna have a round bottom!”

“…Y’know who else has a round bottom—”

“Finish that statement and you’re fired, Katsuki. This is serious business.”

Eijirō Kirishima cannot function under this conditions.

“Guys,” he chokes, looking down at what is now a squiggly mess of pancake. It looks nothing like a heart, but definitely an accurate depiction of how Eijirō’s heart feels—squishy and out of shape and useless. Like an amoeba. Or a blobfish.

Yeah. His heart feels like a blobfish.

“I give up.”

He releases the cake-covered toothpick, and it sticks to the counter in a quietly depressing splat. Katsuki huffs, shoving him out of the way to snatch the toothpick and try himself. And, try he does.

But, the issue is that the pancakes are cooking quick—the others have already been flipped and now, they’re almost ready. Meanwhile, the flailing heart shaped pancake is burnt around the edges and gooey in the middle, but they’re still committed.

Eventually, the three of you look at the burnt ball of dough with a sigh.

“We tried. On that front, we get an A, right?”

“If you look at it from the side and squint your eyes…it, like…kind of looks like an actual heart, so I say yeah.”

“…It looks like shit.”

You all prepare to eat the successful pancakes in a dejected silence. You end up cutting a heart out of your pancake instead. Eijirō eats the corners.

6ixeyes

How gay are you for your bro????

redredriot

um. probably gayer than i should b.

6ixeyes

Wait, srsly

Beach is bad. Beach is horrible—Eijirō will never beach again.

‘Guys, I wanna go to the beach,’ you said. ‘It’s so hot today, it’ll be fun,’ you said. ‘Eijirō’s going to be so miserable, and have to fight a hard-on the entire time,’ you didn’t say. He should’ve seen it coming.

Because, if he can barely handle you in pajamas, how the hell is he supposed to be chill while you practically prance around the sand in a bra and panties. He’s going to cry.

And, Katsuki—Katsuki isn’t helping one bit.

“God, fuckin’ look at her,” he groans, adjusting the sunglasses on his nose. You’re in the water alone, because Katsuki refuses to (’I’m not gettin’ fuckin’ wet just to have fuck-ass sand stick to me—no.’) and honestly, Eijirō would join you if he wasn’t suffering. “Ain’t she a pretty li’l thing.”

And like, what is Eijirō supposed to say to that? What is the socially correct thing to say when your bro is frothing over his girl. Do you agree, and possibly look like you want to fuck her, or do you not agree, and by proxy, call his girlfriend ugly?

Eijirō decides not responding is the safest option. He focuses on the self-help book in his lap, but he’s can’t read right now. The words rearrange into something accusatory, and it’s undeniable:

YOU ARE THE ASSHOLE.

Fuck.

“Don’t know how I bagged that,” Katsuki mutters to himself, before reclining underneath the umbrella. Because he burns too easy, and the sun makes him sleepy, and—why does Eijirō know this? He doesn’t need to know this.

“Awh, c’mon dude,” he shoves Katsuki in the shoulder from his seated spot in the sun. His words come out stilted and awkward, because how do you let your bro know he’s a catch without letting him know you’d probably be down to suck his dick. “You’re, like…hot. You guys are the same level of hotness.”

Katsuki snorts, and rolls his head until it’s facing Eijirō. He cracks an eye open. “D’you think I’m hot?”

Eijirō chokes on air. What kind of question is that.

“I mean,” he blows a raspberry and shrugs, and suddenly, can’t look at his roommate. He watches the horizon until you shift into frame, and then, he switches to the sky. “Yeah, of course, Dude. You’re, like, an objectively hot guy.”

“Objectively,” Katsuki repeats, and Eijirō’s eyes dart to the side just in time to see that quiet smirk from earlier return, from breakfast when Eijirō lied before, and he’s starting to worry Katsuki might be onto him. Which is not good. Not good at all.

“Yep, mhm.” His eyes squint into the sun, in hopes it’ll burn his retinas and give him some form of brain-fried amnesia. That would be great. When it doesn’t work, Eijirō finds himself rummaging through the snack bag instead, hoping that stuffing his mouth shut might keep him from saying anything stupid.

“Oi,” Katsuki perks up. “I want fuckin’ grapes.”

Eijirō laughs, nearly collapsing his face into the snack bag when the arm he rests weight on starts to wobble. “Lucky for you, we brought ‘fuckin’ grapes.’”

“I know, that’s why I said it, Dumbass,” Katsuki faux-bristles. “Feed ‘em to me.”

Eijirō swallows.

“Uh, no Dude, feed them to yourself,” he snorts (and very proud of how he played it off, thank you) and grabs a protein bar out of the bag, along with a Ziploc bag of grapes with a melting ice pack in it. He drops them at Katsuki’s side, but Katsuki knocks them over like a petulant cat.

“My hands are sandy,” he says like it’s obvious, and lifts them up. Respectfully, they are not sandy—but ‘sandy’ to Katsuki means that his hands can feel the ‘sand dust,’ or whatever he said, and Katsuki is stubborn. Eijirō knows he won’t have his grapes untainted.

“Then get Y/N to do it,” he grunts, teeth preoccupied with tearing the label away from his protein bar. “She’ll be out soon, I think.”

“No,” Katsuki groans, loud and useless, and grabs the bag of grapes at his side to chuck them at Eijirō’s head. And, chuck them he does—it gets Eijirō in the side of his face, and the flaxen blond snorts at the sound. “Her hands‘re gonna be all sandy and salty. You do it.”

Eijirō scratches his scalp and sighs.

Eijirō Kirishima, at twenty-six years old, is being forced to feed his Bro grapes on the beach like Katsuki is Cleopatra, while you frolic in the water, half-naked and mouth-watering. What series of events led him here, exactly?

“Then just, like…eat it out the bag, or something.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrow beneath his aviators. “If you don’t, I’m telling Y/N that you think she’s hot.”

Eijirō stiffens.

“Fine. Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine—fine,” Eijirō huffs, and feels his face go hot as he scoots closer. Katsuki gives him a self-satisfied smirk, like he enjoys watching his best friend fumble like an oaf. Over him—over you.

This is so not fair.

Katsuki crosses arms behind his head while Eijirō pops the Ziploc open. Eijirō’s not exactly sure how to go about this, but once he picks a firm grape with no strange squishy spots (Katsuki will have a fit), Katsuki’s lips part, and Eijirō just…drops the grape right in there. Katsuki’s jaw pops as he chews with a nod, like the redhead did good in finding a grape he deems decent enough. It makes him feel all warm and gooey, like a chocolate cookie fresh out the oven, and because Eijirō can blame that feeling on the sun, he lets himself bask in it a bit.

It gets quiet, save for the crashing of waves, music from teenagers seated not too far from them, and the occasional pop of a grape. It’s kind of nice—he finds a rhythm, and space in between Katsuki’s chomps and grabbing grapes to nibble on his protein bar, which is gone quick. He must be hungrier than he thought…We should get actual food soon.

Eijirō zones out, thinking about possible food options and how, honestly, he could go for any of them. Then, he feels something round in his hands, and turns to Katsuki, who’s staring at him with a scrutiny that makes Eijirō think he’s got something on his face. He purses his lips, trying to figure out what Katsuki wants for based off expressions—and finds nothing. He finds nothing that he wants to see, and everything he doesn’t—from the sweat forming in Katsuki’s cupids bow, to freckle in his hairline that darkens with the sun, to the curve of his brows and color in his cheeks.

“…What?”

Katsuki blinks himself out of whatever that was, and the lax expression on his face turns into a scowl as he points.

“Grape.”

redredriot

why does that even matter tho

6ixeyes

Ngl, bc I’m going thru somn similar and tryna figure it out LMAO

redredriot

oh damn my condolences bro

For the third time today, Eijirō would like to know how the fuck he got into this predicament.

You come out the water like a…a fucking beach goddess, water clinging to your form like a sheer dress with sand as an jewelry. The sun seems to agree, as it douses you in something ethereal, something just for you.

Eijirō wants to tear his hair out. He’s already suffering because of one set of sweaty tits, he doesn’t need another—

“What are you guys doing?” You snort after getting enough to see Eijirō hover another grape over your boyfriend’s mouth. The redhead pouts.

“I’m being forced into servitude!”

“I see that,” you laugh, and instead of sitting next to Katsuki, you sit next to Eijirō. He tells himself it’s because you need to dry off, and he’s sat in the sun—not that Katsuki minds, seemingly content on consuming grapes from Eijirō’s hand for the foreseeable future. You squish your wet side into Eijirō’s to get a look in the snack bag, and he shivers for all the wrong reasons.

“Ah! You’re cold!”

Plays it off well, though.

“Sorry,” you giggle, but don’t move until you pull out a fruit roll-up, snatching a grape on the way back. “Damn Kat, you ate all the grapes—fat ass bitch.”

Eijirō didn’t even notice, and looks into his lap—where you just had your hand, mind you—to a severely empty bag, now mainly left with undesirables.

“Oh, right, it’s fat ass bitch now, but later it’s ‘oh my god, Kat, your muscles—oh my god, Kat, you’re so big—oh my god—”

Eijirō is going to die.

Katsuki mocks your voice with an unsteady and nasally falsetto, causing you to reach behind Eijirō, balancing a hand on his shoulder while you try to wack your boyfriend in the head. You miss due to range, and because Katsuki sways his head right with a cackle.

“That is not how I sound,” you hiss, resigning yourself to the other side of Eijirō, even though you could easily walk over to give Katsuki a piece of your mind. He shrugs, eyes flitting to Eijirō, and, uh oh, why is he—

“Oh, that’s totally how you sound,” but he’s looking at Eijirō, like he could confirm, and he doesn’t think the blond talking about how you sound outside the bedroom. Fuck. “Right?”

He’s not asking you—he’s asking Eijirō.

And Eijirō, poor Eijirō, quickly looks out to sea like it’ll put a partition between him and this conversation. Maybe, he should try to burn his retinas again. Maybe, he didn’t try hard enough.

He plays dumb.

“Don’t include me in your couple’s quarrel, Dude!” He says, but its more to the sky. “I’m not even here. I’m a ghost. I’m invisible.”

“Well. In that case,” Katsuki grunts. You squeal as your arm gets yanked in Eijirō’s peripheral, falling behind him and into the sand with a thump. “C’mere.”

“Kat—mmph!”

Who knew kissing could be so loud?

If Eijirō lets out a tear, it’s because his fucking dick hurts.

AITA FOR HAVING WANTING TO FUCK MY BEST FRIENDS’ GIRLFRIEND?

u/redredriot

edit: kay my bro is kinda hot but that just makes things SO MUCH WORSE WHAT DO I DO???????

bigdaddytamaki

petition to be a third!

sasakilovesmiyano

Plot-MF-Twist, I’m so invested.

kusuo_saiki

Get a therapist.

redredriot

THATS WHAT YALL ARE FOR

komicommunicatesverywell

Or get a girlfriend!

That night, Eijirō commits a sin.

It’s not his fault—he’s pent up, because you guys are pent up. He had to drive that fucking car, dammit, and had to ignore the fact that he enjoyed watching you and Katsuki makeout in the rearview mirror more than he should.

And, it’s not his fault again, because you and Katsuki decide to fuck in the living room—the living room that his door faces. It’s like you’re trying to kill him, at this point.

So. Maybe, he leaves his door cracked. It’s not like it matters—moonlight spills through the window above his bed, and barely illuminates te edges. While you engage in foreplay, Eijirō gets ready for bed (skips brushing his teeth, because he’s impatient, and so, so horny) and by the time he’s sliding under the covers, you’re sat comfortably between Katsuki’s legs with a full mouth.

“Fuck yeah, Baby—just like that.”

Tucked under his duvet, Eijirō shucks his boxers down to his hips and grabs himself. His eyes flutter at the feeling, underwear and cock soaked enough that anyone lacking context would assume he already came. Meaning, the slide is easy, and he peeks through the doorway and into the lovingly lit living room.

Eijirō shouldn’t be doing this. He also shouldn’t be obsessed with the way his best friend’s cock fits in your mouth. Not all the way, but enough to make you tear and choke and gag. All Eijirō can really see is the back of your head and Katsuki’s blissed out face, both of which he thinks is wildly unfair.

Katsuki shivers, and it’s a full body affair. Eijirō’s hand wraps tight around the base of his dick because, jeez. Give a guy a warning before you do something really hot next time?

Katsuki lets out something akin to a whimper, which was not a sound he thought his bro could make. But now, he wants to hear it again and again, and possibly occasionally be the reason, every once in a while.

You’re not any better—you’re humming around his cock like you’re the one getting a blowjob, and it’s messy, Eijirō can fucking hear it, and it’s driving him insane. Katsuki grabs ahold of your hair and tugs, causing you to mewl, fall further down his cock, then choke. Katsuki groans and Eijirō stifles his own, praying to every God out there that he remains sane after tonight.

It’s a losing battle.

“Yeah? Y’like imagining that this is his cock, huh?” Katsuki takes control, moving your head at his will, and Eijirō’s arm flexes to match the pace. You whine, and Katsuki chuckles. “Dirty fuckin’ girl.”

You huff, irritated, and pinching Katsuki in his inner thigh, which earns you a jolt and a groan. Wow, Eijirō’s learning so many new things today. Like how you get cock drunk easy, and that Katsuki’s a pain slut. And Eijirō, who will never have any use for this information, stores it anyways.

Katsuki tips his head back and moans at something, and for a moment, Eijirō worries he’s been seen. Only for a moment—the ice in his blood is gone as quick as it came as Katsuki’s eyes flit back to you, and melts straight into his dick. No, despite what his dick says, he does not want to be caught—because that would be very, very bad.

As time goes on, he seems to care less about getting caught, too preoccupied with getting his fix. Which, makes him sound like an addict, but it’s not his fault, you guys are fucking right outside his door.

Eijirō nearly cums when Katsuki pulls you off his dick. Debates on it, for a good while.

Your mouth is swollen, with teary eyes to match the gloss of spit and pre-cum on your lips. Eijirō knows, because Katsuki pulls you up and sits you right on his dick, with your back pressed flush to his chest. And, like, Eijirō’s imagined this moment—the moment where he finally sees you naked—but figured it’d be some panicked walk in, a time when he wouldn’t be able to take in all of you and regret it, and most definitely not this.

Your bathing suit is still on, but barely. It’s misshapen and askew and doesn’t cover what it’s supposed to, covers the exact opposite of what it’s supposed to, actually. Eijirō bites back a groan.

“F-Fuck, Kat—’s too big,” you huff, wiping at the corners of your lips like you might be drooling. Are you drooling? Or is it leftover from the fucking amazing head he just watched you give his best friend?

Katsuki coos, clutching you tight to his body like you might scramble. His other hand holds your thigh open, enough that Eijirō can see your entrance stretch around Katsuki’s cock, and he wants to scream.

“You can take it,” he insists, low and heavy, but still loud enough for Eijirō to hear. You whimper and collapse into his chest, and the hand that holds you upright drifts, tweaking and pinching where it deems fit. “Y’wanna put on a show, don’t you?”

That’s the first time Eijirō catches it. A show for who?

You nod, but push at the couch cushions like you regret letting Katsuki in to begin with. Is this how you look every night? If so, Eijirō’s going to need you two to start fucking on the couch more often, ASAP.

“K-Kat, I can’t—”

Katsuki’s free hand finds your clit then, and whatever you were going to say is left to the wind, molded into something choked and garbled and completely unintelligible.

“What’s got you all worked up?” He snorts, like he’s any better, like he isn’t flushed to his chest and fluttering his eyes every time you shift just right. Eijirō squeezes the base of his dick.

You clumsily shove your boyfriend in the side of the head, who’s thrusts never falter. “Fuck you, you know why—Oh my god, Kat, slow the fuck down—”

“No,” he huffs with petulance, before, if anything, speeding up. “You’re greedy—you can take it.”

“It’s—” your leg kicks, seemingly involuntary, and Katsuki laughs at it. “That’s different.”

God, you whine is the same during sex and in the kitchen. How the fuck is he supposed to hear that the same again.

“How,” Katsuki chuckles, and pinches your clit. You squirm and tuck your head in his neck. “How the fuck are you supposed to take both of us when you can barely take me, huh? It’d be worse with Eijirō’s fat ass on top of you—shit—”

Now.

Eijirō has three thoughts, all of which he thinks at the exact same time:

hey! he’s not fat! he’s well-muscled with the right amount of squish!

damn kat…you think his ass is fat, though?

wait. why are we saying his name, why are we saying his name, why are saying his name—

The third thought is the loudest and lasts much longer than the rest, lasts perpetually, actually, and Eijirō almost cums at hearing Katsuki say his name. His actual name—not Shitty Hair, not Fuck-Face or Dumbass, but Eijirō—and while having sex, no less! With his girlfriend! What the fuck is this?!

You moan even louder, like you like that idea, like that’s something you could be into, and Eijirō doesn’t know what to make of that. Katsuki doesn’t seem to care, and Eijirō doesn’t know what to make of that, either. All he knows is that he’s cumming regardless, despite his best efforts, biting tight into the fat of his hand with a strained groan that he really, really hopes no one heard.

He’s so confused.

He still watches, though—watches you cum on Katsuki’s cock twice before he’s stuffing you full with a groan of his own, eyes trained on the gap between Eijirō’s door. Like he knows Eijirō is still watching, even if you two have been fucking for over an hour.

Eijirō waits until you both peel away from the couch and pad into the bathroom before moving a muscle. He finally gets up to close the door, and scrapes at the dried cum on his stomach with an old t-shirt until his skin turns red, and frowns as he watches it flake. What the fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—

He needs to update Reddit. He needs to know what to do.

AITA FOR HAVING WANTING TO FUCK MY BEST FRIENDS’ GIRLFRIEND?

u/redredriot

edit: THEY MIGHT WANNA FUCK ME TOO???????

© mamashima/pumaya. do not edit, translate or copy my work without my permission. do not use for ai. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI.

you dug your fingers into the sheets to stay quiet, gasping at how thick and full he felt from behind.

"fuck, you're so tight.." a rough growl left his lips against your neck, completely laced. moving in a slow, deep rhythm, he buried himself to the hilt every time his hips rolled forward.

"katsuki, please." you whimpered, burying your face into the pillow to muffle the desperate noises wanting to escape your throat. you couldn't tell if the pleasure was amplified because you had to be quiet, or because kirishima was in the very next bed. "he's right there.."

"don't worry about him. just take it." he grunted, his lips brushing your jawline as he picked up the pace. he gripped your hip tighter, holding you against his heavy, relentless thrusts. "yeah.. you like that? feel how wet you are for me?"

you could only nod frantically against the pillow, tears pricking your eyes from how good he felt.

"not too loud, baby.." his commanding whisper made you squeeze around him, and he hid his face in your hair, groaning softly as he hit your sweet spot over and over again. "good girl. shit—just like that." his voice dropped, low and strained.

meanwhile, on the other side of the hotel room, kirishima was fighting a losing battle with his own mind.

he wasn't asleep. he hadn't been asleep for the last ten minutes—sleep was a lost cause, leaving him wide awake with a stubborn hard-on.

he stared at the dark wallpaper just an inch from his face. he had woken up to the subtle shift in the room's atmosphere, and by the time he realized what was happening, it was way too late to fake a cough or sit up without making things incredibly awkward.

the wet slide of skin, your muffled gasps, and bakugo's deep, dirty talk cut through the quiet room like a chainsaw. it wasn't loud at all, but it was engraving itself deeply into his mind.

his own body was reacting to it. he was starting to wish he could see—every time he was a third wheel, he couldn't help but imagine you and katsuki having sex together. he even let himself fantasize about actually joining in.

just go to sleep, think about training, think about rocks.. he pleaded in his mind. but all he could think about was how you'd sound without holding back if it was just the two of you alone—the face you'd be making, how you'd be clawing at the bed or katsuki's hair.. dammit.

your shaky moans started to grow louder, cut off when katsuki covered your mouth with his hand right before the distinct, heavy thud of his hips moved faster.

you and katsuki were getting closer to the edge, and as kirishima slowly slid his hand underneath the waistband of his pants, he knew he'd be right there along with you two.

© katsukiib ʚ♡ɞ do not steal, edit, or copy my work! ♡ — MASTERLIST! ♡♡

"I'm just tryna see the screen..." You playfully remarked. You both know deep down that's not the real reason you're doing this. You start to slowly move around in his lap, intentionally grinding your clothed core against his hard member. This was his breaking point.

A slight grunt emerged from Katsuki's mouth— and his fingers that were controlling his controller, twitched — causing him to miss a target in the game. "Yo Bakugo, you good man?" Kirishima asked. It was unusual for Bakugo to be messing up and even more unusual for him not to be screaming about it.

"You got a fuckin' death wish or are you just desperate for my attention?" Your boyfriend quietly says to you. He grabs your wrist, pulling you to face him in his lap. Your legs are on either side of his waist and your arms on his shoulders — God this couldn't get any better for him. You try your best to hide your smirk as this was exactly what you wanted.

"I'm tryna be fucking nice, but you keep rubbing up on me like a little bitch in heat." Your hands travel to behind his neck as you lightly grasp at his baby hairs, looking deep into his eyes. "Maybe that's what i wanted."

Katsuki abruptly stands up with you in his arms and your legs around his waist. You yelp as you didn't expect the sudden movement, but is paired with giggles. "Extras, im loggin off." He says quickly as an effort to get to ravaging you as quick as possible.

He carried you to his bedroom and drops you onto his bed — your hair is all over the place and your tank top is drooping down to slightly expose your breasts.

He goes over to the side of his room, rummaging through his hero gear. "What are you getting, babe?" You ask slightly confused. What sort of hero gear would help you in your shared sex fantasies — but then again, he's one kinky guy.

"Getting this" The tone in his voice had a hint of confidence and almost smugness as he pulled out a long black strip of fabric.

Katsuki approaches the bed with that familiar swagger, but when his fingers brush your wrist to position it, you feel the tremor there — just barely, just enough to betray how badly he's been wanting this. He clears his throat, rough and low.

"Arms up," he commands.

You obey, stretching your arms toward the headboard. He wraps the thick black fabric around your wrists — once, twice, tight enough to hold but not hurt — and secures the ends to his bedframe with practiced efficiency.

"Too fucking pretty," he mutters, almost to himself. His eyes track from your bound wrists down to your exposed collarbone, the swell of your breasts, the way your breathing has gone shallow. He stands there for a moment, just staring, his jaw working like he's trying to keep himself in check. "No idea what you do to me. Drives me fucking insane."

He turns abruptly, moving to his bedside drawer. You hear rummaging, then the heavy sound of something being set on the nightstand. When he turns back, he's holding a sleek black wand, cord trailing behind it, and a bottle of lube. "Where'd you find that?" You laughed.

"Saw this online," he says, not meeting your eyes as he plugs it into the wall. "Thought it was excessive." He finally looks at you, and his expression makes your stomach flip — hungry, desperate, barely restrained. "Guess we're finding out."

He climbs onto the bed, prowling up your body until he's kneeling between your spread legs. He doesn't touch you yet. Just holds the wand where you can see it, clicks it on. The low buzz fills the room.

"Beg for it," he says, voice dropping to something dangerous. "Show me how desperate you actually are."

"Please," you whisper — perfectly happy to oblige as your pussy is throbbing for him.

"Please what?" He drags the vibrator down your stomach, hovering it over your tank top, not quite touching. "Use your words."

"Touch me. Please, Katsuki."

He smirks, and he finally presses the toy against you — over your clothes at first, the fabric damp already from how worked up you are. The sensation hits like electricity, and you cry out, back bowing off the bed against the restraints.

"Fuck," he breathes, watching you writhe. "Look at you. All that bravado and now you're—" he cuts himself off, grinding his jaw, his free hand coming to grip your hip hard enough to bruise. "Been thinking about this. About you like this. Can't focus for shit when you're around."

He keeps the pressure steady, not moving, letting the vibration build. You're getting close fast — too fast — your hips chasing the friction helplessly. He knows. He can feel it in the way you're trembling.

Right before you tip over, he pulls it away.

A whine tears out of your throat — pathetic, broken. He laughs, low and cruel, but his eyes are blown wide, his own hips grinding down against the mattress like he can't help himself.

"Nuh-uh. Not yet." He adjusts himself in his sweatpants, obvious and unashamed. "You don't get to cum until I say. And I'm not fucking saying."

He does it again. Brings you to the edge with the wand pressed hard against your clothed core, his mouth finding your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point — then stops. Lets you hang there, shaking, tears pricking your eyes.

"Katsuki, please—" you're babbling now, lost to it, "I'm sorry, I'll be good, please—"

"Sorry isn't gonna cut it." But his voice is hoarse, wrecked. He wants to give in. He yanks your tank top up, shoves it above your breasts, and you feel the air on your skin before his mouth closes over your nipple — hot, wet, sucking hard. The wand presses directly against your underwear now, no barrier, and you scream into the pillow.

"Fuck, look at you," he's muttering against your skin, more to himself than you, "so fucking pretty like this, all mine, taking it so good—" He's grinding against your leg now, rutting against you while he works you over with the toy, his sweatpants still on but you can feel how hard he is, how much he needs this.

You're crying now — actual tears, overwhelmed, the pleasure bordering on pain. He sees it, tracks a tear down your cheek with his thumb, and something in his expression shifts. Softens. Goes almost tender, desperate.

"There it is," he whispers, wrecked. "That's my girl. Cum for me. Right now."

He presses harder, angles the vibe just right, and you detonate — back arching, vision whiting out, his name tearing out of your throat in a ragged scream. He watches you the whole time, unblinking, drinking in every spasm, every shudder.

"That was one," he says, and keeps the vibe on your oversensitive clit.

"Katsuki—no—" you're trying to squirm away, wrists pulling against the fabric, but he's got you pinned with his thighs, his hand on your hip holding you down.

"Three more," he commands, voice rough. "Count them."

The second orgasm hits fast — too fast, almost painful, your body jerking against the restraints. "Two," you gasp out, and he makes this sound — low, guttural, like you're killing him.

"Again."

He draws out the third one, cruel now, edging you again just to watch you beg. You're delirious, barely coherent, just making sounds — whimpers and moans and broken versions of his name. When you finally cum, it's wet, messy, your thighs shaking so hard the bedframe rattles.

"Three," you sob.

"One more," he breathes, and he sounds broken now too, control hanging by a thread. "Give me one more, baby. Be my good girl."

The fourth one breaks you. You cum so hard you see stars, your voice giving out, just silent tears and open-mouthed gasps. He finally tosses the vibe aside, shoves his sweatpants down in one rough motion, and slams into you in one thrust — no warning, no hesitation, filling you completely.

You feel him shake — actually shake — as he bottoms out, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. "Fuck, fuck, you're so tight, so perfect, been thinking about this—" He's rutting into you now, hard and deep and uncontrolled, the bed slamming against the wall. "Can't—fucking—hold it—"

He grabs a fistful of your hair at the base of your skull, yanks your head back to expose your throat, and bites down hard — claiming, marking — as he spills inside you with a groan that sounds torn out of him, hips stuttering, his whole body going rigid.

He collapses on top of you for a second, breathing hard, then immediately pushes himself up — unties your wrists with trembling fingers, massages the marks, presses gentle kisses to the red lines the fabric left behind.

"Okay?" he asks, voice soft now, stripped of all the dominance.

You can't answer. Just nod, weakly, still twitching.

He smirks, but it's fond, satisfied. He draws you into his chest, wraps his arms around you, tangles his legs with yours. "Yeah. That's what I thought." A pause. His hand traces lazy patterns on your hip. "Do it again tomorrow. I fucking dare you."

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“Oh thank fuck—c’mere, Baby.”

Katsuki—a Katsuki, you suppose—starts moving independent of the other. He all but collapses into very confused arms, dropping his chin on your head and squeezing you tight. The other one glowers, messily shoving two pairs of boots under the bench with complete disregard for his strict organizational pattern.

“Um…”

You blink at the Katsuki that cradles you. He gives a soft smile in return, one that usually requires blood, sweat, and tears to crack (even if it takes you a significant less amount of blood, sweat, and tears than the average human—they’re blood, sweat, and tears nonetheless) and you don’t know what to do with it. Where to put it.

“Got hit with a fucker’s quirk,” the other Katsuki explains after giving up on making the boots fit. Typically, there aren’t two pairs, but one—and the shoe rack is feeling the added pressure.

“So…it’s the quirk that split you in two,” you ask, even though you know. The answer is staring you right in the face, but, like. Just in case.

The Katsuki still holding onto you grunts in agreement, and you finally manage to peel away. He steps back as the other Katsuki steps forward, and you finally get a good look at how identical they are. Which, obviously, but it’s still slightly alarming, nonetheless. Like…the shining twins, if they were blond and angry. And covered in grime.

“Holy shit…” your eyes dart between the two of them, trying to find discrepancies in anything other than mismatched dirt. You find none, save for the way they hold themselves. You need better names—you can’t keep calling them Katsuki and other Katsuki.

“Do…you know when it’s going to wear off?”

A self-indulgent question. Perhaps.

“Fuckin’—no.” Angry Katsuki digs a knuckle into his ear, and the other one yawns. “They gotta track the fucker down, first. Apparently, I can’t do my goddamn job like this.”

He gestures between the two of them, and you teeter your head in semi-agreement. The other Katsuki pipes up, and god, you need better names.

“’M not pissed about it, though,” He steps out of line to grab the hand limp by your side, kissing your knuckles with the lightest touch you’ve ever felt. “Means I get to see you.”

Oh?

“I am,” angry Katsuki growls, slapping his counterpart’s hand away from yours. “I should be out there, hunting that mitosis motherfucker.”

“If you go out there, you’re killing him,” other Katsuki defends. Angry Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“Fuckin’ exactly.”

Other Katsuki just sighs, turning back to you. Immediately his features soften along with his voice. “How’ve you been today, Baby? I left early.”

“Um…good? This is just…” you peer around Katsuki’s body to view the other one, who rolls his eyes again, almost completely ignoring your presence. That is, until:

“Ima fuckin’ shower,” he grumbles, and walks down the hall.

“A lot?” Other Katsuki finishes for you, watching his parallel until he disappears into the bedroom, and you nod.

Something like that.

“Okay. Kat.” You point to Angry Katsuki, who’s now glowering on the couch, much like he did at the front door, and much cleaner than before. Your finger shifts to Other Katsuki, until his head becomes a small point at the top of your fingernail. “Suki. That way, if I call, you both don’t come running. Cool?”

While Suki nods his head with diligence, Kat finally smiles. Not the soft smile that’s reserved for you, but the self-satisfied smile reserved for villains, the one that barely hides his hunger for blood.

“Hear that, Nerd? I’m Kat, not your bitch-ass.”

Suki blinks, relatively confused, and tips his head to the side. “Why the fuck does that matter?”

“’Cuz I’m the original!” Kat says loud and proud, digging a thumb into his chest. “Not you.”

“…Again, why the fuck does that matter,” Suki grumbles, less a question and more an observation. A statement. “We got split in two. We’re two halves of the same person, not a copy-paste.”

“I fuckin’ know that, shit stick.” Kat’s hands crackle at the prospect of being challenged, and while Suki tries to hide the way he shrinks in on himself, you throw a spare pillow at Kat’s head.

“Ow, what the fuck!”

“No explosions in the house!”

Kat grumbles, but his hands fizzle out. He shakes them out at his sides. “’M not doin’ this shit—’m goin’ to bed.”

“Ah-Ah! No,” you say, and Kat freezes like you grabbed him physically, like there’s an invisible wall that separates the living room from the rest of the house. “You said we’d watch that move tonight, remember?”

“We said,” he amends, looking unimpressed before jerking his head to Suki. “Make him watch it.”

“No! It’s exactly like you said—you both promised. Technically,” you smile and look at Suki, who, honestly, looks like there’s no other place he’d rather be—he just watches you talk with his chin propped on a hand and love in his eyes. “So. We’re both watching it.”

“Fuckin’—fine,” Kat groans, loud and obnoxious, and to the ceiling. He sits back down with a huff. “But I swear to God, if it’s some fuckin’ Twilight shit again—”

“It’s not.” You get up only to shove Kat over with a hip, quitting his manspreading, and make yourself enough room between them. He lets you. Suki wraps both arms around your middle, and cuddles you close and tight, like you might up and disappear tomorrow. “That was one time—”

“One horrible time, when I was forced to watch five fuckin’ movies of absolute bullshit—”

“It wasn’t that fuckin’ bad,” Suki defends with a quiet grumble, and you want to scoop him up and run away with him. “’S…campy.”

“Thank you,” you nod, before redirecting your attention to Kat, patting him on the leg. “See? Suki understands quality content when he sees it.”

“Get the fuck out my face.”

You don’t put on Twilight—but you do put on Argylle, and that’s not much better.

“So, you’re tellin’ me,” Kat trails off, and you watch the movie flicker in carmine eyes. “That the whole damn time, this chick was writing a book that predicts the future—”

“Specifically a spy-future, yes—”

“And, that’s why…y’know what? Fuck this shit, my head hurts.”

“You have no sense of whimsy,” you sigh, unimpressed. Kat rolls his eyes.

“Listen, Sweetheart,” He fills his voice with faux saccharine, artificial flavoring, and you scowl at the mockery. “I got a job—a real serious job. Don’t got fuckin’ time for ‘whimsy.’”

Kat hangs air quotes with a hand, and that just pushes your frown deeper.

“Oh, and I don’t?” you smile, but it’s just as artificial as his words. Kat glowers, and behind you, Suki goes:

“Uh oh…”

“Somethin’ like that.”

With a huff, you snatch him by blond spikes—and, if Kat is even a little tenderheaded as Katsuki is…

You yank and pull upward, and Kat rises with your grip. Yep. “Ow, what the fuck?! Ah—okay, fuck, I’m sorry—”

He hisses, face twisting in agony—and finally, you relent the torture. You let him go with a satisfied smile, and Kat snarls at you, rubbing the soft points of his head.

“What did we learn?”

Suki snickers under his breath. “Fuckin’ nothing.”

Kat scrambles at that, getting to his feet in preparation to attack. Fear flashes across Suki’s face, making you wonder if his statement was supposed to come out quieter, perhaps unheard. He scrambles over the arm of the couch, and you get thrown around in his rush.

“You’re fuckin’ dead meat!” Kat hollers. Suki takes off in a mad dash.

It isn’t before long that they’re chasing each other in circles around the couch, like a pack of wild dogs, snarling and huffing and puffing. (With the occasional spark—which you’re quick to put out.) You watch your movie, and occasionally, them, and eat the majority of the popcorn in the process.

Eventually, they collapse back onto the couch and into their respective sides, twin chests heaving and glistening in sweat until their breath makes the mile long trek to catch up.

“You two done?” You ask, but never take your eyes off the screen. It’s getting to the good part.

Suki nods. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Kat snaps, and you double check to make sure he isn’t talking to you (because, if he is—you’re locking him in the basement), but he’s still glaring at Suki like he murdered his family. “You piss me the fuck off.”

“Clearly,” Suki snorts, this time quiet enough for Kat to not hear. Still vaguely out of breath, he squeezes your thigh to get attention, and slings his other arm behind you. “I wan’a kiss. Can I get a kiss, Baby?”

You giggle, because as stated, soft Katsuki is a Katsuki you’re used to having to work for, and then some. His hand lifts to your chin as you say, “Sure, Suki.”

And then, you’re getting snatched back by your pajama shirt, nearly choking in the process with an embarrassing and garbled noise.

“Abso-fuckin-lutely not,” Kat grunts, and you nearly fall backwards into his lap. “My girlfriend.”

“Your—” Suki cuts himself off with a scoff, grabbing your hand and pulling you up again—up and away. “One, we’re the same damn person, she’s both our girlfriend. And two, I want my fuckin’ kiss.”

Back.

“Well, that’s too damn bad,” Kat huffs, and you’re yanked again. This is starting to get dizzying. “I don’ want your bitch lips all over her.”

Forth.

“Okay,” Suki chuckles, and you’re tipped forward. Seriously? “And, I don’t want your ugly ass mug anywhere near my girl, so—”

Back.

“Oh, now it’s ‘your girl’—I thought we—”

Forth.

“Yeah. My girl, ‘cuz you don’ even know how to treat her.”

Back—Forth.

“You’re loud, and rude, and angry—”

Back and Forth and Back and Forth.

“Y’don’t appreciate shit that she does for us, and it fuckin’ shows—”

Back and Forth and Back and Forth. Back and Forth and Back.

“Yeah, and she loves me for it anyway, Dipshit—”

Back and Forth and Back and Forth an—

“Can you two quit it!”

When they still, you go tumbling forward and into Suki’s lap—which, Kat doesn’t like very much, and grumbles under his breath about it.

“Sorry, Baby.”

“Fuckin’ what.”

“You guys realize I can kiss both of you, right?” Your words border on exasperated. Kat rolls his eyes.

“Fine—I get first.”

“No, I do!”

“I will blast you to goddamn smithereens.”

“Fine! At least I get my fuckin’ kiss—”

“Oh my god,” you groan aloud, running hands over your face and sinking deeper into the couch. It’s endless. “Y’know what? No. Stand up.”

You pat both of their backs to urge them upwards, and they follow. Standing side by side and watching you—and if you thought that one set of Katsuki’s eyes were intimidating enough, try two.

“Okay, Suki—you asked first, so you go first.”

Kat grumbles under his breath, something about ‘well if I fuckin’ knew that, woulda asked ages ago,’ but relents relatively quiet. Suki bends over with a smile, cradling the side of your face to lift it higher.

“Thank you, Baby.”

Katsuki’s lips always feel warm, and Suki’s are no different—they move slow and soft and patient, like he knows what’s coming, when it’s coming, so might as well take his time until he can see the finish line. He inhales like he could breathe you in, and the hand cupping your face tightens with want and satisfaction.

When Suki pulls away, you’re both breathless, and he rests his forehead against yours. “Missed you.”

But, before you can respond—

Suki is shoved out of the way, out of frame, and in comes Kat, who would be on fire if he could. “Y’call that a fuckin’ kiss? Watch and learn, Loser.”

Kat grabs you by the chin and kisses you with weight. He presses into you with his upper body, using a free hand to rest on the back of the couch, and placing a knee between your legs. Kat kisses you into the cushions and out of any breath you have left, leaving you scrambling for air.

“How was that,” Kat asks once pulling away, dragging his thumb across your kiss-swollen lips. You swoon, before remembering that this Katsuki is downright evil.

“It was…um…” you try to say fine, try to say okay, I’ve had better, but the weight of two intense stares fill your veins and cloud your judgement. And, just overall ability to speak as a whole.

“See Dumbass, what’d I say?” Kat hollers over his shoulder, standing up to glare at his doppelgänger. “Kiss her right and she fuckin’ melts.”

Suki bristles at that, but doesn’t bite back with words. Instead, he quietly assumes Kat’s place with a hum, thumbing the highest point of your cheek as he looks down. He studies you.

“Mmm…looks pretty solid to me,” Suki mutters, tilting your head every which way, like he’s trying to find something that’s not there. Kat yells from the back, ‘shitty ass joke!’ “Wha’d’ya think, Baby? Who’s better?”

“Um,” you swallow, and try to stifle your inner goblin. “I don’t…I think I’ll need more than that to…y’know…know?”

And, yet. The goblin comes out, anyway. (At least she’s respectful, this time.)

Suki teeters his head in consideration, and Kat snorts from behind him. “Fuckin’ pervert.”

You gawk. Because, like, yes, but also, “how am I supposed to know based off a three second kiss?”

“Valid question.”

“Listen—I don’t know about Mr. Chastity over here, but mine was definitely longer than three seconds.”

Suki gives him a look over his shoulder, and though you can’t see it, you can guess based off the way he goes, “Seriously?”

“I said what I said.”

You see the tail end of Suki rolling his eyes as he turns back to you, and the look of pure annoyance on his face shifts to one of affection. His thumb brushes your cheek again, as he leans forward, close enough for you to feel his breath across your lips.

“Well, Baby? Should we prove that fucker wrong?”

But, you’re not paying attention to much else other than the way Suki’s lips round and soften to form words that you barely hear. So, you just nod, let out a quiet ‘uh huh,’ and let him close the distance.

Suki kisses you with more passion this time around, but less vigor and aggression than Kat. You feel comfortable and grounded, and gasp, hands finding the middle of his shirt as he tilts his head to the side. You don’t get kissed stupid like you do with Kat—like the earth got flipped upside down and you just have to deal with it—but held and loved, and that’s stupefying enough.

Suki moans into your mouth, making your body run both hot and cold. It takes ages and alcohol to convince Katsuki to make a sound, to stop holding himself back, but this one might not. This one might not, and God, if that doesn’t make your head spin.

A tongue licks the seam of your lips but never pushes further than that, just enough for you to be aware of the threat and the want, but never enough to give. You whine, pushing deeper—and Suki smiles against your lips like that was exactly what he wanted, before his hand encompasses the front of your neck to squeeze, restricting your airflow just enough.

When he pulls away, the hand around your neck slides to your collarbones, and your eyes flutter shut. It continues to snake lower, past the waistband of your sweats and even lower than that, until two fingers run along your folds. They’re gone as quick as they came, and Suki pulls them out to reveal—

“See? She’s soaked.”

Kat growls, but before he can say anything, Suki tucks both fingers into his mouth and sucks. It’s obscene, and you think you see his tongue poke through at some point.

But then, he’s getting shoved in the shoulder, falling into the couch and more importantly, away from you, as Kat takes his place between your legs. Before you have time to protest (which—you won’t, but you might’ve for a second, for like, posterity) Kat is shoving your sweats down to your ankles, clearly tired of playing fair.

“I’m sick of his shit,” he grumbles, shifting your hips forward until you’re nearly laying flat. “Aren’t you sick of his shit, Princess?”

You don’t really know what to say to that. Luckily, you’re not given much time to—Kat sticks his tongue out and licks a fat stripe up your pussy, swirling his tongue around your clit, and dragging it back down.

“Fuckin’—take your goddamn time,” Suki growls, and Kat just rolls his eyes and continues his ministrations. “I worked hard to get her that fuckin’ wet, y’know—”

Kat only pulls his mouth away to give his double an incredulous look, pointing at your pussy like you’re not even there. “Oh, you think you did this.”

“I know I did,” Suki snarls at the slight, and when Kat chuckles around your clit, it makes your thigh seize. “But, fine—fuck her dry like an animal. See if I care when she comes runnin’ to me ‘cuz y’don’t know what the fuck you’re doin’.”

Kat doesn’t grace his words with more words, just flips a middle finger in his direction before that hand finds your thigh. Only to spread your legs wider, broaden his plate, and you nearly keel over when he sucks too hard.

“He bein’ too rough?” Suki coos, grabbing you by the jaw and running a thumb along it’s sharpest point. “’S okay if you can’t cum, Baby—he has absolutely no finesse.”

Suki rips Kat away from you by the hair, his lips flushed and glossed from you, and yanks him out of the way. Kat snarls and lets his palms pop, but one halfhearted glare from you, and they fizzle right out.

“He’s being a dick!” Kat defends, gesturing at the perpetrator with open hands—said perpetrator simply settles between your legs, licking his lips. Kat is ignored.

Suki moves a lot slower than Kat does—still hot and heavy, but languid, like he knows you’re not going anywhere any time soon. He licks you up and down, avoiding places that would do anything more than simmer. But, even low heat will eventually come to a boil, and your breath hitches when a finger brushes your entrance.

Kat yawns. “I’m fuckin’ bored.”

Suki rolls his eyes and can’t help but pull away, get another word in—but his finger finally quits (some of) the teasing and plunges right in. You shiver, then melt. “Well, that’s too damn bad.”

“Yeah, it is—make her scream or somethin’ before I fuckin’ fall asleep.”

“Oh, please fall asleep,” Suki insists, but never takes his eyes away from you—your pussy—as he berates his double, too fascinated by the way you squeeze and relax around him. “I’d love if you fell asleep—I could be both of us, and she wouldn’t even notice.”

Kat barks out a laugh, loud and sarcastic. “You get mad at me for bein’ rude, then you call her stupid? Some white knight.”

“No,” Suki says, and adds another finger and curls them upward—it makes your leg kick involuntarily, and it probably would’ve done some damage if he didn’t catch it in time. “I’m callin’ you basic. Bitch.”

“Oh, you fuckin—”

“Guys! Please!” You scream at the ceiling. You’re exhausted and annoyed, semi-horny and so far away from the finish line. “Stop arguing—do you want me to cum or not?” 

And, well. That shuts them up quicker than you expected.

“Absolutely, Baby.”

“Ugh—fuckin’ whatever.”

Suki focuses on you, after that. Kat tries to distract him with playground insults, tugging at his hair like a childhood bully, but the most he gets in response is a middle finger. Suki hoists your thigh onto his shoulder, and, when you wiggle too much, uses a free hand to pin your waist in place.

It’s an embarrassingly short amount of time until you feel the fire in your belly turn dangerous, like wind carrying bonfire embers into trees to ignite them. It’s not your fault—there’s two pair of eyes when there should be one, equally eager, equally fascinated. Kat catches your chin and pulls you in for a rough kiss, and Suki’s eyes flutter when you squeeze around him, like he’s fingering himself and feeling every curve of his fingertips.

You squirm, understanding the specifics of the feeling that builds and hating them. “Ah fuck—think I’m gonna…?”

“Squirt?” Suki finishes with a knowing smile, like that’s what he’s been aiming for this whole time, and you bristle.

“Fuck you,” you pant, but it get infinitely harder to argue as your vision starts to blur with your breathing. “Yes, Asshole.”

“Hot,” Kat nods in agreement, and if you had the wherewithal to, you’d chuck a pillow in his face. Again.

“You know I hate this.” You give Suki an half-hearted glare, and he fights the smile growing on his face. “Why do you do this to me.”

“Because it’s hot,” Suki hums, and honestly, he deserves a pillow to the face as well. “C’mon, Baby—relax, let it happen.”

He starts stroking your thigh like that’s going to help any. It doesn’t, and the stick you use is no longer good enough to defend your impending orgasm, which is horrible, horrible news for the couch cushion. You’ll need to flip it over. Again.

(So—maybe you should just buy a new cushion, at this point. And avoid sitting in your usual spot on the couch.)

While the orgasm doesn’t catch you by surprise, the strength of it does. Your thighs squeeze around Suki’s head as much as they’re able—as much as he allows—and a hand finds Kat’s to hold on tight and squeeze. You feel Kat fall into your shoulder, or maybe you fall into his. Your body burns, buzzes, anything that starts with a b that sounds hot. You’re hot. On fire, actually.

You don’t open your eyes until the feeling subsides—in time to watch Suki pull away, face soaked, and the couch cushion even more so. Kat takes two fingers and runs them along your folds, only to dip them into his mouth and hum with contentment.

“Sweet, right?”

“Fuck yeah.”

And you, feeling the wet cushion under your back, haven’t decided whether you’re going to smother both (?) your boyfriends in their sleep.

(You make both of them sleep on the couch that night—the wet couch that’s their fault. Kat doesn’t get it, he didn’t even do anything. Suki accepts his fate with a knowing grin.)

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"I'm trying to get some rest." Y/N coldly spoke, leaning against the doorframe with a look of pure indifference. "Can you and your friend keep it down, please?"

Katsuki’s jaw tightened until it ached. She knew his damn name. She knew it better than anyone else, considering it was the only thing she’d been moaning for the last few months behind locked doors.

Watching her stand there, acting like he was just some nameless extra her brother brought home, struck a nerve he had to practically weld shut to keep from snapping at her right then and there.

Once the act was able to drop..

"You're real quiet now." He had his cock buried deep inside of her in a perfect mating press, as she looked completely fucked-out. The sight of her like this—flushed and shaking under his weight—was the only thing keeping his own restraint from snapping. "What happened to that mouth? Say my fuckin' name, Y/N."

With her ankles hooked over his shoulders, Y/N kept her hands pressed against her mouth, desperately trying to keep quiet.

The further he pushed, the more it grew difficult, the sounds of her undoing slipping through her fingers as he continued to wreck her.

Stubborn.. He pulled back slowly, only to suddenly slam back into the hilt, watching as Y/N's eyes clamped shut. A muffled moan slipped past her fingers, trailing off into a desperate whimper. "C'mon, I know you can say it, baby.." He cooed, smirking at how easily he could break her silence.

"Don't wanna wake him.." She whispered into her hands, but the lie fell flat. It was a weak excuse and they both knew it—her brother was a deep sleeper, currently passed out cold on the living room sofa after a marathon of video games and movies.

Then she felt him slowly pull out again, dragging it out even further than before until he was barely catching the edge.

The sudden lack of fullness left her feeling more needy than ever, her hips instinctively stuttering upward to try and chase the sensation he was intentionally holding back.

"K-Katsuki.. Please." His name finally slipped past her lips as her hands fell away from her face and onto his biceps. She couldn't hold it back anymore; the feeling was too much, and the way he looked at her made her want to give him exactly what he was demanding.

The emptiness was too much. As he slowly began to push back in, the first real moan broke through—loud enough to make her heart race in fear of getting caught, but too sweet for her to stop.

"Yeah, keep making those sounds. I bet you were thinking about this all day while you were keeping to yourself.." He could feel her pulse around him, her body telling him she was right on the edge, and he was more than ready to push her over.

He leaned down to press rough kisses against her neck, sucking at the soft skin to leave a dark, unmistakable mark that would remind her of this long after he was gone.

Y/N tilted her head back, giving him better access to her neck as she let out a long, shaky moan. "I was.." She whispered, finally answering his taunt. "I was thinking about you all day—Katsuki, I'm.." The words died in her throat as a wave of heat crashed over her.

He felt how her cunt tightened in that desperate, beautiful way that told him she was on cloud nine. "Fuckin' knew it.." He grunted, his thumb sweeping over her jaw to keep her head back.

He didn't care about the noise anymore; he just wanted more of her, his own thrusts becoming sloppy until he was right there on the edge with her.

"Oh, there you are. I was just about to look for you.." Her brother yawned, blinking at Katsuki in the dim light of the hallway.

They were now just a few feet from Y/N's door, and he was too dazed from his sleep to notice the way Katsuki was breathing hard or how his hair was completely trashed.

He knew he smelled like her—smelled like sex—and if the idiot stepped even an inch closer, the game would be up.

"Bathroom break, huh? Me too, man.." Her brother muttered, giving a sluggish pat to Katsuki’s shoulder as he shuffled past. He was completely oblivious, his eyes half-closed as he navigated the hallway and walked right past Y/N’s bedroom door.

He didn't even glance towards her room, totally unaware of how close he’d come to walking in on them. 

Katsuki stood frozen in the hallway, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding once the door shut, the scent of the encounter still heavy in the air around him.

His eyes glanced once more at Y/N’s bedroom door, the image of her wrecked and breathless still burned into his mind. He lingered for only a second before making his way downstairs.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and threw himself back onto the other end of the couch, his chest still tight. Every time he closed his eyes, he could still feel the way she’d pulsed around him.

The way her juices overflowed around him, and the way she was practically sucking him in, never wanting to let him go..

Katsuki knew it was too risky, but as he stared at the flickering TV screen, he knew he didn't regret a single second of it.

He was a dead man if his friend ever found out, but the way Y/N had looked at him—broken and begging for his name—made the risk feel like a damn reward.

All he could think about was how soon he could get her alone again.

green orbs find yours through the glass of the mirror, a knowing gaze etched on his face that only meant trouble. the tubes stripped from your grasp, quickly confiscated and wound tight in izuku's hand.

"waterproof, huh?" he mutters, staring at the product like a shiny new toy. his fingers brush past your shoulder as he points to another, "just like this one is? and this one?"

his mockery only sets you off, plucking the tube from his hand to tuck it away in your vanity.

"none of them work, izu. they just get all streaky and it ruins my face when i'm out with the girls ... i'm just checking for false advertising!" you huff, arms circled over his shoulders as you peer at him through decorated lashes. "don't you want me to look pretty?"

and izuku knows he shouldn't give in, shouldn't be a pushover just as he has been in times like these. but if his girl needs help, who is he to deny you?

"of course i do."

scarred hands trail the curvature of your body, tugging the hem of your shirt just enough to catch a glimpse of your bra. "but can't you look pretty without funding the entire company with my debit card?"

the smile on your face is answer enough, triumphant and cocky, like you knew just as well as he did that his complaints would fall on deaf ears.

even as you move him towards the soft sheets and press your body into his, he knows its only your feeble attempt to distract — a facade you both know he'll give in to the second your hand palms him through his sweats.

well, if he was buying the mascara, he deserved to test it just as much as you, no?

"i-izu .. izu, please—" you choke out a whine, face smushed against the pillows as you try to keep up. his pace is relentless — every slap of skin a punishing rhythm that brings tears of pleasure to your eyes.

the sheen on his face matches yours, green curls stuck to his forehead as he pants against your lips. warm breath mixing as he looks at you with a dazed stare.

“only the best for you, right? so we gotta — mmm — test it”

your eyes shut in pure bliss, lips caught between your teeth as you lose yourself on the way his hips slam into your wet cunt. a broken gasp slips free when he trails a hand down your front — squeezing over the valley of your breasts until it reaches your swollen nub.

the dam breaks.

"there it is" he coos, smile plastered on his face as a scarred hand swipes at your cheeks, flecks of black mixing with your tears. "think you can—fuck— you can count this one out too, princess"

the roll of his hips mixed with the circles on your swollen nub sends you into a haze, a feverish heat burrowing it's way into your chest as you writhe underneath him.

your fingers trench harder into the pillow, blackened tears forming a pool underneath you.

“izu-izuku, please. please.‘m gonna cum—“

the familiar coil building in your tummy as he moves against you in short, sloppy thrusts —each one forcing you deeper into the sheets. you splutter as he blanks a hand against your head, fingers entangled with the soft tendrils as he grunts against the shell of your ear.

the feeling only makes your cunt flutter, squeezing his length like a vice as tears spill down your cheeks.

“gonna have t’find one that can handle me, hm?” he starts, lips ghosting over yours as he speaks. “its okay, princess. i’m here to help now”

and if it meant you’d get to test them all like this - with the sheets stained black and your face smushed into the pillow…

you might need to add some more to your list.

© — tokkushin : all rights reserved. all works belong to me .ᐟ pls do not repost/copy, or feed into ai.