hex

yet, the blond scoffs. “bullshit. sounds like you just need a dd.”

“maybe,” ejirou shrugs, not denying the accusation. “but seriously— all you do is work out, school, your internship — there’s more to life than that, man.”

“and the ‘more,’ is pussy?”

“what else?”

katuski grunts. “i’ll think about it.”

“after you finish cranking your shit?”

“fucker— you want me to come or what?”

“oh you’ll be coming, alright.”

with the clench of his jaw, katsuki promptly slams the door on eijirou, whose cackles go unappreciated. he settles back on his bed, picking up his phone as he does so. thanks to his wonderful roommate, he was soft now, and he wasn’t getting back into the mood any time soon, even as he looked over the picture of you that izuku had sent him.

in the first place, he wasn’t really one to masteurbate. it was just that, one wandering thought led to another and before he knew it, he found himself with his hand down his pants and the photo pulled up. in his defense, it was a pretty good one. in it, your body was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, your hair was messy, makeup smeared, all with a creampie spilling out you— it was a sight that he was familiar with. yet, you were in a room that wasn’t his. instead, you were in izuku’s apartment bedroom, a place katsuki knew better than he’d ever like to admit. being left to only imagine how things had unfolded in there made katsuki’s mind spiral into a mix of jealousy and desire. it didn’t help that you’d been avoiding him these past few days.

you flaked on sunday. knowing you, you probably got embarrassed over the idea of a hook up. he recalls a rant you had where you described the silent drive to a man’s house for sex as one of the most dreadful things ever. furthermore, it wouldn’t have just been any man, but two, with one of them being midoriya izuku, who you’ve hated for years. but maybe it was more than that.

maybe you were pissed off at katsuki. you hadn’t been answering his calls. your texts back to him were the same three recycled excuses: “on patrol” “studying :(” “tired” — but it’s not like he didn’t get it. if your best friend fucked your shared rival and didn’t tell you, you’d be pissed to say the least. well, you did do that but he did it first.

after a contemplative shower, scarred knuckles rasp against the doorframe of eijiriou’s bedroom, a sound the redhead immediately perked up at.

“we going or what?” katsuki asks, expectantly. eijiriou lets out a whoop, his hands gripping onto katsuki’s shoulders in camaraderie as they make their way out of their house.

throughout the drive to the frat house, katsuki was unusually stiff behind the wheel. eijirou, hanta, and mina, the latter two who were picked up along the way, chatted amongst themselves, creating background noise for his thoughts. it wasn't until mina mentioned your name that he actually tuned into the conversation.

“she’s going?” he questions, one eyebrow raised.

“yeah, with momo and some other girls. they’re gonna meet us at the door so you guys don’t have to pay full price. you didn’t know?” asks mina.

hanta, with that lazy smile of his, snickers. “katsuki and his girl haven’t been talking.”

“she’s not ‘my girl,” katsuki deflects, gruff and sharp. “she’s been busy.”

“too busy to text you that’s she coming out tonight? man, these girls ain’t shit,” hanta laughs, already preparing for the smack against his arm from mina.

katsuki attempted to act unbothered by hanta's teasing, yet one could easily tell by his grip on the steering wheel that he was peeved, to say the least. in an effort to console his friend, eijirou patted katsuki’s shoulder, only for it to be promptly shrugged off.

by the time the four of them had finally pulled up to the party, katsuki more or less had mentally prepared himself to see you. hands in his pockets, he trailed a few steps behind mina, eijirou, and hanta as they made their way to denki's frat house. eventually, they caught up with you and momo amongst the group of girls she had organized in order to take advantage of the frat’s gender ratio discount.

with a brush of his arm against your shoulder, katsuki caught your attention. “hey,” he spoke softly, as he always did with you.

“hi,” you murmured.

“didn’t think you like coming to these things.”

you shrug, the gesture a little sheepish, your gaze avoiding his. “momo begged me.”

“hm,” was all he replied, the simplicity of it making you bite the inside of your cheek. as you reached for your wallet to pay the $5 entry fee, he quickly waved you off, already pulling out his own money.

“i got it,” he assures, eyes briefly meeting yours.

once inside, the people the two of you came with separately, began to disperse. you tried to slip away with momo, but his hand shot out to yours, gentle in its grasp.

“hey, wait— can we talk?”

the question hung in the air. “now?” you asked back, a hint of avoidance in your voice that he didn't sit well with him.

“yes, now. you’ve been avoiding me all week.” unlike you, who tended to shy away from confrontation, katsuki had no trouble with facing it head-on. you were like puzzle pieces in that way, sometimes making up for what the other lacked.

upon seeing your (hesitant) nod, katsuki swiftly dragged you through the crowd of partygoers, making his way to the patio in the backyard. the two of you settled on an outdoor sofa, but not without keeping a rather awkward distance — one that was much too far apart for two people who had seen the other naked multiple times throughout their life; from shared childhood baths to more intimate moments as adults, there was a comfortability your relationship demanded, yet it was nowhere to be seen tonight.

and despite his initial urgency to speak to you, once the moment was here, it was actually pretty quiet. at least for a while. your eyes drifted towards the shoes you picked out for tonight, finding them the most interesting thing ever as you waited for him to break the silence.

“are you mad?” he finally asks, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it before, yet the sound of it slices through the air.

mad? is that the right word for it? mad about what, exactly? mad that katsuki has liked izuku all this time? being mad about that would mean you’d have to face your own feelings for him, wouldn’t it? or were you mad that izuku went to katsuki first? that seemed a bit closer to the truth— you’ve always hated being second choice. so, maybe that was it: you were mad about being left out. but then, what did either of these men owe you? you and katsuki have always been close, sure, but it’s not like you were ever together. and with izuku, you hadn’t even spoken to him for years, not after everything that you did to him.

you sigh, eyes distant, and lost in thought. “i don’t know what i am.”

another moment of silence passes. you speak up this time, breaking it with a question that tumbles out of you.

“when were you gonna tell me?”

“never,” katsuki answers honestly, head turning to the side away from you.

“seriously?”

“would you have?” he shoots back, your following lack of a response speaking for itself.

while his honesty should make it hard to be angry, for some reason, it cuts you deep instead. he really wouldn't have told you? he was fine keeping a secret like that? from you? didn't... whatever it was between you two mean anything? didn't you mean anything? you push yourself up from your seat, the weight in the air pressing down too heavily to remain sitting. a bitterness settles in your jaw as you realize you can’t face any possible truths waiting for you tonight.

“where are you going?” he asks, trying to understand the look on your face.

“i don’t know.” you lie, simply making an excuse. “i heard todoroki senpai was going to be here. i was thinking of talking to him.”

“senpai?” he repeats, confused as he assumes you’re talking about shoto for a second. then, he realizes you’re talking about touya, who you had a little crush on for years. “what? no, hey, we’re talking here.”

“we can talk another time,” you say dismissively.

“but we’re talking right now— hey!” he calls after you, exasperated as you march across the backyard towards the door.

“what’s there to talk about?” you scoff, throwing up your hands. although you try to feign indifference, your hurt wouldn’t go unmissed by him. "you said you weren’t ever gonna tell me — because it doesn't matter — so, that’s that. you fucked him, i fucked him. we're good.”

katsuki says nothing for a moment, taken aback by your words. as he watches you walk away, he make sure to blurt out that, “the only todoroki you should be talking to is that split-dye motherfucker, by the way!”

when you don’t respond to him, his leg bounces impatiently before he lets out a groan of frustration and follows you back inside.

weaving hrough the crowd, to any onlookers, the sight of katsuki close behind made it seem like the two of you were having a lover’s quarrel, an irony that was not lost upon you. you bump into people without meaning to, murmuring apologies, while katsuki keeps pressing the subject.

“how do you even expect me to bring something up like that?”

“kacchan, just quit it, it’s okay— ”

“no, seriously,” he cuts you off, “why exactly do i owe you that information?”

“why do you owe me?” you ask, almost caught off guard by how fast your own head whips around to glare up at him. “you have some— ! ugh…!” the words die on your tongue as your heart can’t yet bring yourself to address the nature of your relationship. you turn back and keep walking, now in the kitchen, intending to get a drink.

“no, say it— you’ve been ignoring me all week so it must be fucking important to you — why does it matter who i fuck when you go around doing whatever?”

“it matters because it was him,” you spit out like venom.

with your head turned around again to look back at katsuki, you weren't paying attention to where you’re going— and your face slams into the, admittedly, broad muscular back of a man.

“oh my gosh, i'm so sorry—” you begin, the splash of his spilled cold drink startling you both.

“haha, it's okay—"

“ugh, katsuki, see what you made me do?”

“me? you don't know how to use your own fucking legs anymore?”

on autopilot, you grab a handful of paper towels from the counter, moving quickly to stop the spill from soaking into both your clothes and the stranger’s. as you dab away at his shirt, the sound of his initial good-natured laugh during the collision slowly registers in your mind, and before you even look up, you already know who you bumped into. for izuku, the realization comes at the mention of katsuki’s name — which also gave a good idea of who’d not be too far behind. katsuki, of course, had been too focused on you to notice at first, but he reaches the same conclusion soon enough.

upon seeing the scene of you and katsuki bickering, izuku lets out a small chuckle. “funny seeing you two here…”

“oh, jesus fucking christ,” katsuki mutters, already over it, taking soggy paper towels from your hands to help toss them out.

“he’s not in a good mood, is he?” izuku asks, laughing some more.

“he’s never in a good mood,” you scoff, taking a jab at the blond through alluding to public misconceptions.

misconceptions from his youth — mind you — that only serve to piss the hell out of him till this very day. still, he can’t help but bite. “yeah?" he questions your audacity, “who’s fault is that?”

you roll your eyes. denki, overhearing the commotion, and ever the responsible fraternity president, quickly guides the three of you into the spare bedroom that acted as storage (and definitely was not for frat hookups…). inside, there was a drawer filled with frat memorabilia — shirts, shorts, sweatpants, and even socks — all in many different sizes. when you found a shirt your size, you attempt to go change, but not without telling katsuki to close the door “if he was going to follow you around,” effectively trapping you all in the room with each other. he plops himself down on the bed, fully intending to continue your prior conversation.

“can you turn around?” you boss him further, your hands thumbing the hem of your shirt.

“nothing i haven’t seen before,” he rolls his eyes, but obliges, raising his hands to cover his vision out of respect.

“well, i don’t want you to see,” you huff, pulling your damp top over your head.

unappreciated laughter slips from the corner of the room. “guess you do pull an attitude with him…” izuku muses quietly, still rummaging for his shirt size.

you glare at him over your shoulder. “can you shut... up... ” your words trailing off as your eyes catch the faded scratch marks running up and down his back— your handiwork. heat rushes to your face, and though he can't see your reaction, upon hearing the sudden silence, katsuki laughs under his breath, already guessing what you’ve seen.

“damn. he really got you whipped," katsuki comments.

“oh," you scowl, "like he didn’t have you first. took you, like what, like a minute to respond to his text?”

the bitterness in your tone does not go unnoticed by him, but as the texted photo flashes through his mind, katsuki stops his retort, going quiet as a blush crept onto his face. “he doesn’t,” he mutters.

izuku simply raises an eyebrow at that, yet he chooses not to say anything. you however, catch his expression out of the corner of your eye, quick to bring him into the argument. “midoriya, what do you think?”

after finally finding a shirt that he liked and would fit well, izuku offers you a shrug before putting it on. “could've fooled me,” he says.

maybe it was just the week he had, but izuku’s words rub katsuki the wrong way. he shoots up to his feet, palms threatening to crackle with heat as frustration and embarrassment flared up inside him. “don't try to make it sound like i'm obsessed with you, you asshole.”

you swiftly try to stand in between them, feeling the obligation to stop things from escalating. all it really ends up doing is getting you caged between the two men.

“well, i didn't say that,” izuku counters, tone calm yet snarky, “i'm just saying... you sort of kept me to yourself for while, while keeping her” — he motions downwards to you — “away from me.”

if it was izuku’s intention to make you jealous, he was doing a good job— his words were prying open the wounds you’d been carefully trying to ignore all week.

“i was protecting her from you,” katsuki snaps, keeping eye level with the other man.

“protecting her? she’s a grown woman; you were just scared that she'd like me more than you,” izuku replies, his gaze steady.

“you are so full of shit—”

"guys," you attempt to chime in.

"do you know how she was in my bed? how desperate she was for me to touch her? be inside her?" izuku asks, leaning just slightly forward, his words deliberate.

katsuki's jaw tenses, fingers twitching like the gathering nitroglycerin in his palms were ready to spark at any moment. “you shut your god damn mout—”

“guys!” you shout, much louder this time, your exhaustion from this lifetime of tangled feelings and emotions finally spilling out. katsuki is first to soften at the sight of your expression, instinctively moving to console you, while izuku stands there hesitantly, feeling like an outsider to you and katsuki's dynamic once more.

before you can even stop them, the tears spill down your cheeks. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry— i’m just so sick of… all of this! i hate this feeling in my chest that i get when i think about you guys without me, or, or when i think about myself only being with kacchan— but then i’m thinking about izu too, and i treat,” — sniffle — “treated you so bad and…”

the words unravel, dissolving into hiccups. shame, jealousy, embarrassment, guilt, and regret all crash down at once, heavy and choking in its grip around your throat. katsuki’s eyes meets izuku’s over your trembling form; a silent exchange passes between them before the former nods towards the bed and they move to sit on the edge with you to help calm you down.

a silence settles over the room. katsuki's rough, calloused hand slides gently through your hair, an unspoken attempt to soothe you. the two of them wait, gathering their thoughts, while giving you the space to breathe and recollect yourself.

after a while has passed, izuku speaks. he exhales, long and weary, carefully considering his words. “i spent a lot of time resenting you guys," he admits, voice low, eyes cast at his fidgeting hands, “it hurt a lot. seeing you two with each other…. being treated like shit for no reason. i wanted to hurt you guys like the way i was hurt. hurting. but… um, ah...”

he pauses, the air trembling with what he can't quite say. “that's not really what i wanted...i...”

as his words falter, your gaze lifts to izuku’s face. the silence hums with the words he’s been too afraid to speak aloud. i just wanted you both. you feel it, though, his unspoken confession, pulsing in the air between all three of you. the realization leaves you dizzy, breath caught somewhere in your throat.

“me too,” you whisper.

you and izuku both turn towards katsuki, waiting — hoping — for him to say the same.

“what?” he asks, blinking, caught off guard by your expectant eyes. “i’m… not good with words.”

if his honesty wasn’t so palpable, it would’ve seemed like an excuse. it was true though— katsuki was always one to show with actions, his presence, his hands. you take a small breath, deciding to bridge the silence. “do you… feel the same…?”

he looks at you, his gaze lingering on your tear-streaked cheeks, before turning away, voice dropping to a rough but quiet murmur. “…yeah.”

the tension that once pressed against your chest eases, and the silence that follows feels different— brimming not with uncertainty, but with something gentler. hopeful.

“what do we do now?” you ask, wondering about your three’s relationship.

“…why don’t we go out for boba tomorrow?” izuku suggests after a pause, a half-smile tugging at his lips.

“are you paying?”

katsuki's question gets him a look. “that’s what you care about?”

“you’re the number one collegiate hero,” katsuki grumbles. “you telling me you don’t have money?”

you smack the back of your hand against katsuki’s chest. “you’re number two— you should have your own money!”

the three of you break into laughter, the sound light and easy, washing away the heaviness that had lingered in the room. for the first time in a long while, things just felt... right.

“we should get out of here,” izuku says at last, standing and stretching.

with a cough, katsuki replies, “give me a minute. i’ll be out.”

as you and izuku start heading towards the door, you pause in your movements, turning back to katsuki with curiosity. izuku, seemingly quicker to put the pieces together, lets out a low and knowing laugh.

confused, you glance at katsuki and notice him trying to hide the obvious tent forming in his jeans. “wh… how?” you ask, eyes squinting in disbelief.

“you were crying,” he mutters bluntly, face becoming pink with embarrassment.

“…what?”

izuku rests his hand lightly on the small of your back, leaning in close as he whispers loudly, all to tease katsuki. “he likes seeing pretty girls cry.”

“fuck off,” katsuki scoffs. “are you guys gonna leave or what?”

“we can’t stay to watch?”

the blond shifts in his seat, already not liking izuku’s scheming. “no.”

“why not?” izuku tilts his head, a sly smile spreading across his face. “we’ve already seen it before.”

“i don’t need a fucking peanut gallery while i’m doing my shit.”

“i’d like to think of us as more of a cheer section. plus she wants to.” izuku's hand subtly motions toward the clench of your thighs. katsuki’s eyes follow without hesitation.

“what? n-no i— ” you start, face flushing, but your protest is cut off as izuku continues speaking.

“you also didn’t even say sorry for how you treated us all these years,” he reminds katsuki with a pout. “don’t you think you could at least show it?”

a quiet, scoffing exhale escapes katsuki, before he fixes his gaze on you, speaking directly. “do you want that?”

the words get stuck in your throat, your head spinning at the suggestion. after a moment of hesitation, you eventually nod.

“tch. fine. just sit over there,” he gestures to the floor in front of him, “and don’t talk. or touch.”

izuku snickers, whispering to you as the two of you sit on the carpeted floor. “see? bossy...”

“the fuck did i say about talking?”

izuku simply hums in response. the two of you watch as katsuki fumbles with his pants, before he eventually takes out his dick. it was long and pretty, with a slight downward curve due to its considerable weight, and a tuft of blond hair framing its base, all with a red angry tip adorning the top of his shaft.

katsuki extends his hand towards you, palm up. “spit,” he instructs you, his voice almost like a sigh. you comply, letting a glob of saliva fall into his waiting palm. with that, he wraps his now slick fingers around his length, beginning to stroke himself.

your breath hitches as you watch each slow pump of katsuki’s hand. in your focus, you nearly jump when you feel izuku’s warm palm come to rest on your thigh, slowly creeping up your skirt. his lips ghost over the shell of your ear as you keep watching katsuki’s movements.

“he’s pretty, huh?” izuku murmurs softly, tracing circles into your skin with his fingers.

“yeah,” you manage to croak out.

a shiver runs up your spine as you feel izuku’s teeth graze against your earlobe, smiling at your response. “y’know, you’re pretty too, when you have that look on your face...”

“the hell you saying to her?” katsuki asks, his curiosity piqued as he can’t quite catch what izuku was whispering to you. his breathing had become a bit more noticeable — unsteady — as he found a rhythm.

izuku’s gaze lazily drifts over to katsuki’s flushed and sweat-dappled form, offering only a nonchalant shrug that would serve to get the other man more worked up. “you said don’t talk to you. you didn’t say we couldn’t talk to each other.”

“you’re doing a lot more than just talking,” katsuki tsks.

“you didn’t say we couldn’t do that either. she seems like she wants to do a lot more than just talking,” izuku instigates, knowing exactly what he’s doing, his other hand now resting on your hip.

katsuki takes the bait, sucking in his teeth at izuku’s provocation. his eyes shift to you, mumbling your name to get your attention. “lift up your shirt,” he tells you, trying to act like it was his own idea.

your breath flutters as your thumbs hook into the hem of your shirt, flipping it up to reveal your lacy bra underneath.

“fuck,” katsuki groans at the sight, continuing to move his hand up and down his shaft. “were you really planning on talking to that todoroki scumbag?”

“no,” you lie, shaking your head.

it doesn’t fool katsuki at all, able to see right through you. his movements slow, frustration clouding his mind. “bullshit. man— get on this damn bed,” he commands.

you found yourself trembling as you rose from the floor, moving to sit on the bed beside katsuki. izuku stood as well, getting up with you, and sitting to left of you— therefore positioning you between the two of them.

“take off your clothes— damn, do i have to spell everything out for you guys?” katsuki asks, exasperated and impatient. you fumble with your clothes, hearing a sound of amusement leave izuku’s lips, as he does the same with his own.

once you were all stripped of your clothes, katsuki drank in the sight of the two of you, eyes roaming hungrily over every curve and contour. he swallowed hard, thinking of how to proceed.

“need help?” izuku speaks up, noticing the other man’s hesitation.

“no, fuck— do i look like a virgin?” katsuki retorts, annoyed. he turns his focus to you, pulling you into his lap, his bare chest against your back.

a laugh escapes izuku. “all i’m saying is that, for the past five minutes, she’s been looking like she wants a kiss and you haven’t even delivered.”

you shiver as katsuki’s hand trails down your stomach, before dipping into the heat between your thighs. “you kiss her then. can kiss her all the damn much you want,” he scoffs, deeming the sight of your pussy fluttering around his teasing fingers as more important.

izuku places a finger under your chin, which directs your attention to his face, distracting you from the plunge of katsuki’s fingers into your entrance. “i just didn’t want to make you mad,” izuku explains to him, tone infuriatingly teasing, not yet talking to you.

“only way you’re gonna make me mad is if you keep doing more talking and less fucking.”

“is that right?”

“yeah. you can do whatever the fuck you want as long as you shut up.”

the smile on izuku's face seems almost carved into it at this point. at last, his gaze locks onto you as his hands come up to cradle your face, and he presses his plush lips against yours. between gentle kisses, he snickers again, whispering against your lips. “you were right— he is mean.”

“kacchan doesn’t kiss,” you explain on his behalf, eyes beginning to gloss over as the kisses become more open-mouthed.

“yeah— he only likes doing that when he’s about to cum, huh?”

“tch."

it's not until your lips begin to bruise that izuku decides to pull away, giving you a chance to breathe. “i notice that you’re a lot nicer though, now that he’s here,” he comments, before trailing kisses down your neck.

“she’s a bitch to me too,” katsuki cuts in, “if that’s what you’re talking about. she’s only playing nice cause she’s getting dick.”

your brow furrow at katuski's words, deciding to be mouthy. “n-not getting much of it…”

“yeah? i was being nice and stretching you out. didn’t know you were an impatient whore," katsuki grumbles, before looking at izuku to boss him around. “go lay down.”

with a soft chuckle, izuku does as katsuki commands, dick flopping against izuku’s abs as he lounged there in wait. katsuki slips his fingers out from you, before leaning off the bed to fish out a condom from his discarded pants on the floor. he throws the wrapper on to izuku's chest, expecting the other man to promptly put it on. after all, katsuki didn’t like cleaning cum out of his own ass.

with raised eyebrow (that goes unappreciated by katsuki), izuku asks, “you cleaned?”

katsuki doesn’t repond to him right away, occupied with motioning for you to move to the side. “yeah.”

once the latex is rolled down izuku's length, you watch as katsuki sinks himself onto izuku, a low groan ripped from his throat as he takes izuku to the hilt.

“sh-shit!— ” izuku bucks involuntarily, biting his lower lip as he is caught off guard by the sudden tight heat engulfing him. “—you did more than just clean…”

katsuki ignores him, turning his head towards you, panting as he wordlessly directs you to position yourself atop izuku. as you straddle the man’s broad chest, izuku’s rough hands instinctively grip your hips to steady you. you then look over your shoulder, watching as katsuki shifts to press himself against your entrance, letting out a gasp — oh — as you feel that familiar stretch within your core.

“jesus ch-christ,” katsuki grunts through clenched teeth, giving himself a moment to adjust to the dual pleasure of being stretched out all the while feeling the velvetiness of your walls. slowly, he begins to rock, taking it upon himself to do the movement for the three of you. with every thrust from katsuki into you, you can feel your clit rub against izuku’s abs, which tears moan after moan from you.

dark green eyes meet yours as izuku has to tilt his head upwards to look at you, a breathless smile playing across his lips as he drinks in the sight of your flushed face contorted in ecstasy.

“damn, that good?” he asks, before taking one of your hanging breasts into his mouth, lapping and sucking at the flesh.

you can’t help but let out an embarrassing sounding squeal at the sensation, one that makes both men chuckle. izuku’s eyes flick up to your face, still expecting an answer to his question. “it’s good…” you struggle to respond. at that, izuku manages to snake his hand around the globes of your ass, in between the space where you and katuski’s bodies meet, in order for his index finger to prod at your asshole. instinctively your pussy clenches, forcing out a hiss from katsuki into your ear.

“you ever put anything in here?” izuku asks, tentatively tracing the rim of your tight ring of muscle.

you shake your head, face flushing at the idea, to which he clicks his tongue, almost disappointed by that information. “that’s too bad,” he mumbles. “think you would like the feeling of both of us at the same time, but we’ll just save that for another day.”

to your surprise, izuku’s hands then guide your hips to push back against katsuki, taking the blond even deeper, and the new angle creates a chain of pleasure: you gasp as katsuki bullies that spongy spot inside you, your walls fluttering and squeezing around him, which makes him grind harder against izuku below, who then bucks sharply upwards, the cycle then repeating. each movement triggers a response that intensifies the pleasure for all three of you, the sounds in the room eventually becoming a cacophony of hedonism.

somehow through your haze, you can hear katsuki whimper against the nape of your neck, muttering, “f-fuck— shit! gonna, fuck… i’m close, baby…” on cue, you turn your head to kiss him, his mouth on yours like he was planning on devouring you whole. it’s sloppy, teeth clashing as he desperately sucks on your tongue— you don’t register izuku’s groan underneath you as he cums at the sight of you two. katsuki, on the other hand, laughs breathlessly against your lips, feeling a sudden warmth inside his walls. he picks up the pace, knowing that izuku will be too sensitive to carry on for much longer. his hand reaches down to your clit, rubbing furious circles, and providing you with the much needed stimulation to finally cum, your release triggering his own.

you slide katsuki out of you and off of izuku, collapsing beside the latter, your thighs twitching from your climax. kastuki mirrors your actions, getting off izuku, thus revealing the bulging used condom sheathing izuku's dick. kastuki does the other man a favor, sliding off the filled rubber, and knotting it securely, before he tosses it onto izuku's heaving chest.

“gross,” katsuki mumbles, as he goes to lay face down in between your breasts. izuku simply lets the balloon stay there, too tired to clean up at the moment. the three of you cling onto each other in a cuddle, sweaty skin sticking to sweaty skin, listening to the party music die down.

but then, the sound of katsuki’s phone ringing cuts through the moment, to which he picks it up with a gruff, “what?”

“katsukiii…” eijirou’s voice slurs on the other end of the phone. “dude… should i get cross faded with this vampire looking chick...?”

in a flurry, you watch as katuski almost trips over himself to find his clothes from the floor and put them back on. “shit, fuck, i told kirishima i’d dd for him— ” once fully clothed, before leaving, he lingers at the door, taking in the sight of the two of you lying tangled on the bed and a softness blooms in his chest as he realizes that he loves you guys. he doesn’t say it out loud. not right now. not yet. instead, he offers an awkward, “bye.”

you and izuku simply roll your eyes at him, knowing how he is. “gross,’ he says,” izuku quotes katsuki’s words as he picks up the filled condom from his chest with a pinch of his fingers and places it on the nearby nightstand. “it's 'gross,’ and he’s swallowed my cum before.” you laugh softly against izuku’s chest at that, a glowy light feeling spreading throughout your body. his hand settles itself on your hip, rubbing it gently as his gaze searches yours. “do you need a ride back to your place tonight?”

“a ride would be nice,” you reply, leaning up to give him a peck on the lips.

he returns it with a smile. “perfect. i can even give you a nice ride when we get there.”

ꉂ ᵎᵎ original a/n: yea i think i will do a small little hc/explanation of how i characterize these guys, both in these fics and in my Mind Palace. also i realize reader doesn’t talk too much during the smut scene and that’s because. i based it off how i’d react #selfindulgent #ishutupduringsex (but also, she just cried and she’s emotionally tired entering the sex)