z. rosier

“Stupid goddamn—!” and another explosion, this one completely missing the bullseye. It grazes the dummy and singes the side of their apartment building instead, leaving sooty scars in its wake. It was a joke before, but Eijirō’s actually starting to worry about the conditions of their lease.

“Okay, Dude, you’re done,” he pushes himself away from the fence, rattling as it pops back into place, and crosses the expanse of the court. His friend seemingly doesn’t hear him, as he aims again, and again, and again, and Eijirō’s subjected to the sight of Katsuki’s shoulder blade seizing under the pressure of every blow. With his twelfth steady exhale of the evening, he grabs the Katsuki’s wrist and hardens, expecting the small explosion to his knuckles when it arrives.

“I said, you’re done.”

Katsuki glares with eyes wet and wild and burning with little orange flecks. Pretty.

“Fuckin—let go, Shitty Hair—”

There’s a certain desperation Katsuki has to release—to let go of something that he insists on taking to his grave—when he’s like this. It’s all scrambling hands and heavy breaths and spasming shoulders. It’s a panic attack with a Katsuki Bakugō flavored cherry on top, and a feeling Eijirō can only describe as disturbance settles behind his bones every time. He doesn’t like it one bit.

And yet, Katsuki still has the nerve to look pretty as hell, with lips bitten to cracks and a flushed face. Eijirō doesn’t like that either.

He never asks what’s wrong because Katsuki will never tell him—believe him, he’s tried. So, his only choice is to let the blond get it out, tear himself apart at the seams until it borders on self-destruction. And, Eijirō guility—selfishly—hates that he has to watch his friend morph into something that is not his friend, but a feral animal with rabies and razors for teeth. He hates that he has to wait until it collapses and returns to form, and Katsuki’s finally tired enough to be taken care of for the night. Then, Eijirō’s allowed to coerce him upstairs with a warm bath and bad takeout and an action movie with no plot that has Katsuki nodding halfway through. But, today…

Today’s really bad.

That thought solidifies when Katsuki pivots to shove a fistful of explosions against his friends’ chest. Eijirō hardens in time—Katsuki wouldn’t be moving like this if he couldn’t, hell, half their high school career was spent in the training rooms, seeing how good of a punching bag Eijirō really is—but, he doesn’t do it often, barely ever, and seems surprised when Eijirō’s white tee comes back singed. The redhead just sighs, again, and tries to hide that look in his eyes that Katsuki always mistakes for pity. He lets go of the blond’s hand, who takes it back with a huff.

They stand there for a minute, chests heaving and hands crackling. Katsuki‘s eyes widen and narrow, like he wants to say something, but can’t. Eijirō tries to ignore the tight feeling in his chest and guilt surges through his being again.

“Kat—”

“No, fuck you!” Katsuki howls to the setting sun, dousing half of his face in it, before swerving on his foot to put his back to his friend and his fuck ass pity. The redhead blubbers.

“I—But, I didn’t even say anything!”

“Didn’t fuckin’ have to,” Katsuki grunts, storming over to the bench with his bag and water, and farther away from his biggest problem. And then, a little quieter, because Eijirō’s made him fucking soft: “Jus’ go the hell upstairs, already. ‘M comin’ in a minute.”

“I’ll go if you come with me,” Eijirō beams, almost blinding, and holds out a hand but doesn’t move to close the distance. Katsuki’s heart flutters, and he promptly wants to ram his head into a wall.

“What part of a fuckin’ minute,” Katsuki swallows and glares over his shoulder, “Don’t you fuckin’ get? Go away, Shitty Hair.”

Katsuki chooses to ignore his plethora of uninspired ‘fucks’ today, but it’s well deserved, and his brain is fried. Extremely well deserved, and brain extremely fried. Eijirō has the audacity to fucking laugh, eyes sparkling like the midday sun or some shit, and Katsuki starts to regret regretting that he sent a fat one into his best friends’ chest.

That dream felt too real.

“C‘mon, Kat,” he insists, stepping closer and checking his watch, “I already ordered P.F. Chang’s and they’re gonna be here in like—ten minutes.”

Katsuki takes a step back. Because, yes, he doesn’t like when his food gets cold and he’s going to want to shower before eating, but he hates being so painfully predictable that this dumbass clocks it.

“Why P.F. Chang’s?”

Because Katsuki loves P.F. Chang’s.

“I dunno,” Eijirō shrugs, but perks up when he sees Katsuki sling his duffle bag over a sore shoulder. “Was in the mood.”

Katsuki snorts at the shitty excuse, and lets them lie to themselves.

When they get back to the apartment, despite the fact that Katsuki is clamoring for a shower, Eijirō makes him take a bath. Some shit about warm water and epsom salt being good for sore muscles, and while Katsuki knows he’s right, fucking fuck him.

Eijirō gets the bath ready while Katsuki gives himself a quick rinse in the shower. By the time he gets out and pads into their guest bathroom with a towel around his waist, Eijirō’s doubled over the tub to feel the temperature. He jumps at Katsuki’s presence, but not a bad jump—an ‘I was waiting for you’ jump.

“Oh! Perfect timing—does this feel too hot?”

Katsuki tries to ignore how weird this is, Eijirō hovering over him like he’s his fucking child, that grown men should not be running their best friends a bath, but maybe, that’s subjective. Maybe, this is just Katsuki’s dream making him feel all sorts of strange.

So, he kneels next to Eijirō by the bath, and sticks a hand in. The water is warm, bordering on hot, but that’s the way he likes it.

(And, he’ll repeat it again—fucking fuck you Eijirō Kirishima.)

“‘S fine,” he grunts, quickly turning to drop his change of clothes on the edge of the sink. He can’t see, hear, or smell Eijirō without getting war flashbacks to last nights subconscious. His unnecessarily, aggressively, vivid subconscious.

Eijirō smiles with a thumbs up, but continues to hover until Katsuki’s palms crackle in warning.

“Get out, Shitty Hair.”

“Right!” Eijirō scrambles to his feet, brushing himself off. “You—I’ll text you when the food gets here, cool?”

Katsuki keeps his eyes trained on the sink as he grumbles out a ‘whatever’, ignoring the scent of petrichor and spice as Eijirō brushes past him with the fleeting hand on the small of his back. And, thank God he closed the door after that, because Katsuki’s forced to watch his cheeks and ears turn pink in the mirror as his face heats.

With a grumble and a huff, Katsuki is quick to tear the towel off his waist and step into the bath, hissing as his skin tingles under warm water. Slowly, methodically, he presses flat hands on both sides of the tub and lowers himself in, cringing once he gets halfway and his shoulders start to burn. He tries to focus, but his arm gives out, and his bare ass cheek lands on porcelain with a splash and thump. He hopes no one heard that.

Quickly, the warmth melts into something of a numb lightness. Katsuki’s eyes flutter shut as he sinks in to his chin, exhaling as a tension he didn’t notice releases from his shoulders.

Eijirō doesn’t ever not know what he’s talking about, and that pisses him off.

With a sigh, Katsuki takes wet hands and runs them through his hair. There’s a part of him that wants to go to bed faster than a narcoleptic, see if he can kickstart that dream again—but there’s another part, a louder part, that knows he’ll wake up pissy and sweaty and emotionally confused, and he can’t do shit about two out of the three of those things, except kick and scream and avoid Eijirō’s eyes. So.

Katsuki’s a tad sexually frustrated.

It’s not his fault, technically—or, it’s very much his fault—his quirk makes it impossible to touch anything delicate, especially in the throes of pleasure. Katsuki only had to nearly Howitzer Impact his dick twice to realize, yeah, that’s not going to work.

He can hump a pillow, but can’t hold the pillow—and will singe his sheets, and occasionally the mattress in the process. It’s…fine, it’s not satisfying, like that itch in the middle of your back you can’t scratch, or a sneeze that wont budge from behind the eyes. And, he sweats a lot, a borderline obscene amount, until he’s an old and forgotten landmine—one wrong move and the whole building goes to shit. That fire during their third year at UA? Yeah, that’s was him just trying to get a fucking nut in.

He’s learned that he can succeed if he’s in the bath with both hands under water—thanks to Eijirō and his bath insistence. But, the movement is weird and friction non-existent, and he sweats more from the heat of the bath than he would outside of it, and then, the landmine dilemma again. Today would be the day that he says fuck it, we ball, but he can’t. Not with Eijirō being the subject of last night’s fucking nightmare.

His subconscious is active. Aggressively so—to the point that Katsuki wonders if he’s being punished for something he probably definitely did. Wet dreams are a regular for him, at least once an every other month. But, that means once a every other month, he’s tearing his shoulders’ labrum as he fires something, anything, to make him forget about his dick and the fact that he can’t do shit about it. And now, since they’ve moved in together, once every other month, Eijirō’s taking care of him, feeding him, cuddling him on the couch like it’s fucking normal.

That cannot happen today.

With a huff, Katsuki eyes a set towels on the rack: one red, one grey. It was a horrible idea to move in with Eijirō. The worst. Because, for the past week, any time he sees something related to that idiot—fuck, any time he sees the color red—it sends a zing down his spine and he’s reminded the way his vindictive mind concocted something so vivid, so horrifying, that Katsuki thought it was real. Then, had to wrestle with the beyond horrifying disappointment once he woke. Eijirō’s hands, the weight of his body, the sound of his voice, those fucking hands—

He got hard from seeing a Red Riot plushie on patrol today. Get a fucking grip.

Katsuki hears the front door to their apartment open and close. There’s a pause, and then the walls rattle again. Knowing that was probably Eijirō getting the food, he peels his back away from the sticky bathtub walls and ignores the way water sloshes over the top as he gets out. Glaring at his flushed face in the mirror, he slaps it twice in an attempt to will his hard dick away. It only kind of works.

Eijirō is setting up by the time Katsuki comes stomping out of the bathroom with billowing steam. His skin shines like porcelain, freshly hydrated and probably smooth to the touch—but Eijirō thinks none of that, actually, and drops his eyes to load food and beer onto TV trays.

Katsuki doesn’t say a word until he’s sat on the couch cushions with a huff, television remote in hand.

“What are we watchin’.”

Eijirō’s mouth creases to hide a grin, and does a very poor job.

“What about…The Meg—”

“No,” Katsuki groans with cutting eyes, and Eijirō takes a seat beside him with a sigh. It was worth a shot. “We’re not watching that shitty ass movie for the fiftieth time.”

Eijirō giggles, and wants to correct him with the right number, but he knows the response: and that’s sixteen to many. So instead, he gives a more amenable option—something simple, something light, something they’ve seen before, so Katsuki can eat and knock the fuck out and not think too much. With pleading eyes, he pouts, “Transformers?”

Katsuki pauses, mouth twisting. Then, he shrugs.

“Fine.”

Paramount is actually one of the few streaming services they have (courtesy of Eijirō: he doesn’t know what he’d do without his TMNT and Sonic and RuPaul’s Drag Race) and its one of the first on the TV‘s pull up menu, so Katsuki finds it quick. Eijirō passes out plastic utensils, cracks open beers, and it’s not until they both hear the traditionally mechanical whirr of Transformers while Paramount stars fall into place, that they finally dig in.

The first thirty minutes are heaven. It’s just him, Katsuki, P.F. Changs, Shia Leboeuf, and Megan Fox against the world. Occasionally (read: often) Katsuki’s shoving a fork at the TV, grunting about how Megan Fox is the real main character and Shia Leboeuf is just her ‘little bitch boyfriend,’ and Eijirō cackles with a mouthful of poorly americanized chow mein. He tries to ignore how pretty his best friend looks in artificial lighting, and focus on their bad habit of talking through movies instead.

Then, they reach Eijirō’s favorite part, the part he repeatedly harasses with until it was his favorite too. They know every line, every hitch—and Eijirō watches in rapt attention (at the TV, definitely at the TV) as Shia’s parents barge into his room, and he has to hide both Megan Fox and the autobots.

‘—this is repression, what you’re doing here, you’re-you’re ruining my youth—’

‘Oh, for Pete’s sakes, you are so defensive…were you…masturbating?’

They should be cackling by this point. Instead, Katsuki’s right shoulder tenses against his. Eijirō frowns.

“You okay?”

‘Was I mastur—no mom!’

Katsuki huffs, reaching over his food to grab at his beer. Usually, he’d be laid out right now—awake, but relaxed. Instead, he’s white knuckling the brown bottleneck like he wants to wring it. Blue fluorescence flickers against his face, and he’s pale, ethereal, almost ghostly—and if that’s what a ghost looks like, Hollywood needs to lock in.

‘No, I don’t masturbate!’

He’s not sure if Katsuki heard him the first time (or, he’s being ignored), so Eijirō tries again, nudging his shoulder. He can’t help but wonder if there’s something wrong with the movie. If maybe, he should’ve picked a different one—but no, Katsuki came out of the bathroom with shoulders at his ears, didn’t he?

“Kat?”

“What,” Katsuki spits quick, like his thoughts were anywhere but present, and snaps head to look at him. Eijirō tries to ignore the literal plethora adjectives that come to mind.

“What’s wrong,” he asks softer, with a nod of his head, leaning over folded legs to get a better look at his friend’s face. The blond looks away. His mouth opens, and closes. And opens again.

“Nothi—”

“Bullshit,” Eijirō says, probably a little too loud, and thinks he sees Katsuki flinch. “Sorry, I…I don’t want to make you tell me. If you don’t want to. But clearly, what usually works isn’t helping…”

He points at Katsuki’s flexed shoulder, which relaxes under his scrutiny. And, maybe part of his insistence stems from his own feelings of inadequacy—that he used to be enough to relax Katsuki, but for some reason, tonight he’s not. That only kindles the fire in his belly labeled as ‘determination.’ He will make this boy relax if it’s the death of him, dammit.

‘I mean, you don’t have to call it that word, if that makes you uncomfortable, you can call it…’sam’s happy time,’ or—’

Katsuki grits his teeth and looks away, like he’s actually debating on telling him. He takes another swig.

“‘M fine. ‘S jus’…been a long day.”

And, Eijirō knows that’s bullshit too, or at least a surface level truth, and finds himself very unsatisfied. None of this is helping. He’s making it worse. The fire in his belly blazes a little louder.

Eijirō sighs in resignation, because what he said earlier still stands, I don’t want to make you tell me. But, the rest of the sentence, he feels, is a little selfish: I want you to want to tell me. To trust me. Katsuki places the empty bottle back on its tray, and the low pitched clink is louder than the TV.

“…I can’t jack off.”

Eijirō looks up from floor.

“What?”

‘I’m sorry, it’s just been a weird night, I’ve had a little bit to drink.’

Eijirō doesn’t think he heard him correctly—or it’s some freudian slip from the TV—but Eijirō swears that he can see him blushing in the low light. He narrows his eyes like it’ll help him find the answers, like it’ll help him see more, but Katsuki just crosses his arms with a huff and leans against the arm of the couch.

“‘M not fuckin’ repeating that, Shithead,” He grunts, and well. Fair.

“Wait, deadass?”

Because, Eijirō doesn’t quite believe the implications—Katsuki Bakugō, Murder God Dynamight, the manliest guy Eijirō knows, hasn’t—can’t—

Guiltily, the fire in his stomach burns hot, but with a completely different label.

Katsuki’s silence is his response.

“But…why…?” Eijirō is stupid and tipsy and his synapses aren’t firing quite right. So, he wants—no, needs—Katsuki to start connecting the dots for him. Like now.

Katsuki doesn’t say a word, just lifts a hand and lets his fingertips sparkle, and—oh.

“Oh,” he repeats, trying to collect his senses and his wits and his jaw. Because, what else is he supposed to say to that? ‘I’m sorry, Dude, that sounds like it sucks? Couldn’t be me?’

“Yeah, oh,” Katsuki adjusts until he’s facing the television better, “scene always pisses me off.”

But, he always laughs at it. Eijirō’s not crazy, Katsuki likes it. He knows he does—the corners of his eyes crinkle and he hides a laugh behind his hand because he’s genuinely smiling. Oh. Unless.

“Was that why you crashed out today?”

Katsuki scoffs, dropping his head back until he’s watching the ceiling. “I don’t fuckin’ crash out.”

Which is the biggest lie he’s ever told, but Eijirō reads between the lines. Yes.

And then, Eijirō gets an idea. A really, really bad idea. A Katsuki-Might-Blow-Him-Up idea.

A He’s-Tipsy-Enough-To-Actually-Let-It-Slip, idea.

(Read: not very tipsy at all.)

“Let me.”

There’s a beat, a squeal of tires on the TV, and then Katsuki bursts out in a guttural laugh. Not a real one—his eyes don’t do the crinkle thing, and his hands are still tucked firm under opposing forearms.

“Good one, Shitty Hair.”

“I…I’m not kidding,” Eijirō swallows and straightens his spine, “If you…y’know…and you gotta…”

Katsuki raises his head, only to glare at him.

“I’ma bite your head off.”

“What?” He whines, leaning his side into the back cushion. “I’m deadass! I always help you relax and shit, how is this any different?”

Excuses, is all Eijirō can think. Excuses, excuses, excuses.

“‘Cause it’s your fuckin’ hand on my dick?!” Katsuki says, acting like it’s the most obvious thing in the world (it is). His arms finally uncross just so he can open his palms in disbelief.

“Yeah, but like…you can keep your socks on and stuff, so it’s like—”

“Not gay?” Katsuki blurts with a bitter laugh, running a hand over his face. “God Eijirō, you fuckin’ suck.”

Eijirō tries to avoid swooning when Katsuki actually says his name. He’s got a job to do. So instead, he grins, drumming against his own knee.

“It’ll be good, I promise,” he sing-songs, and, this is a little embarrassing. Is he begging? He’s begging. “It’s fine. Tomorrow we’ll still be best buds and everything. Swear.”

A weird look flashes against Katsuki’s face, one Eijirō doesn’t recognize—and then, it’s gone.

He sighs.

“…Promise?”

“Pinky promise,” Eijirō says, a little too quickly, leaning forward to lend a pinky. Katsuki rolls his eyes, but meets him in the middle.

Fuck it.

“Fine,” Katsuki groans out a wide mouth. “Fine. But don’t expect me to return the favor, Asshole.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Eijirō stands with a laugh, fucking beaming like he won, or some shit. Katsuki feels like, for some reason, this classifies as preying on the weak, and somehow, this will all blow up in his face. Eijirō offers his hand up and pulls to his feet.

Except, the Idiot pulls a little too hard, and Katsuki nearly stumbles into his shoulder.

“So,” the redhead licks his lips, still with that fuck-ass grin, “where to?”

“My room,” he huffs, snatches his hand back, thank you, and stomps away. Eijirō snickers but follows, and Katsuki’s palm burns the whole ten second walk to his bedroom. By the time Eijirō passes through the threshold, he’s sat on the edge of the bed with his arms crossed. Again.

“Hey.”

“What.”

“Nothing,” Eijirō says with his hands up in surrender. He settles in front of Katsuki’s knees. “Just saying hey.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki hisses, and his muscles tighten like they’re trying get him to ball him up and disappear. His face is hot—too hot—Katsuki’s sure it’s glowing, and can only hope the dark covers it enough. Eijirō’s pushes at his knees.

“Kat, I need you to open your legs.”

Katsuki resists the urge to grumble another ‘whatever’ in fear of giving himself away more than he already has, and obliges.

(Giving away what?)

“Good Boy,” Eijirō says with a pat to the knee. It’s something he says, which Katsuki already hates, but, with new context comes new meaning—one that’s much worse than before.

“Shut the—‘kay, no. Ground rules,” Katsuki growls with a threatening finger, shifting when his knees press into Eijirō’s sides. “You shut the fuck up. No talkin’, no laughin’, no fuckin’ breathin’—got it?”

Eijirō snorts, but salutes him anyways. “Yessir.”

“‘Kay, then,” Katsuki falters, sitting up so he’s no longer screaming in his friend’s (best friend, Katsuki’s mind helpfully supplies, and shut the fuck up—) face. “Fuckin’—get active, I guess.”

Eijirō giggles. “Get a—”

“Shut!”

Still with a smile, Eijirō shrugs as if to say ‘my bad.’ Then, he’s staring at Katsuki’s crotch, and Katsuki can feel himself going red again. How the fuck is he supposed to get hard in these conditions? He tries to relax but can’t, not when Eijirō’s eyes are boring hot ass holes into his chest, and not when Katsuki wants to bury himself alive for the third time tonight.

“Stop fuckin’ starin’!”

“I’m not,” he says—even though he’s not supposed to—but it’s prompted, so Katsuki lets him slide, “I’m…strategizing.”

“Strategizing what, Dipshit?”

But, Eijirō doesn’t respond, and runs an open palm against Katsuki’s clothed crotch. Katsuki hisses, shoulders tensing when he feels something hot run down his spine. Eijirō’s bites his lip and does it again, pressing harder, and Katsuki’s arms unfold in favor of resting on his hands. Though, there’s a voice in the back of his head reminding to move them soon, unless he wants to disintegrate his sheets. Again.

He’s never noticed how big Eijirō’s hands are in comparison to Katsuki’s thighs—which, he supposes is a very normal friend thing to not notice, but he digresses. Eijirō’s always been one redhead taller than him, one brick shit house wider—not by much, but enough for Katsuki to feel it when his friend passes behind him in the kitchen. It’s sort of hot to see all that man bunched between his legs.

“Okay, I’m hard, Dipshit,” Katsuki huffs with pinked cheeks, kicking Eijirō in the side—he’s tired of writhing under Eijirō’s simple-hearted focus and needs to get on with it before he’s bolting out of this room, out of this city—out of this country—and inevitably, making things wildly more awkward than if he just stuck to the plan. “Hurry the fuck up.”

Eijirō snorts but doesn’t say a word, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Katsuki’s sweats. When he’s given a pleading eyebrow, Katsuki lifts his hips with a scoff. Gotta do all the work around here, but he doesn’t say that, because then it’s just him, the tent in his boxers, and Eijirō. Suddenly, his throat is swelling.

Before he can work up the courage to say this is insane, and there’s no fucking point, I’m over this shit, Eijirō starts palming him through his boxers, and Katsuki brain short circuits, just slightly. It’s not his fault—he’s been hard since fucking Tuesday.

Stifling a groan, Katsuki yanks his nightstand drawer open and blindly fumbles for a bottle of lube. He chucks it at Eijirō’s chest, but it lands on the bed between bare thighs. The redhead snorts, but stays true to Katsuki’s quiet rule.

But, it doesn’t matter if Shitty Hair shuts the fuck up—it’s actually impossible to ignore his presence. Not because of the hand on his dick—while that is distracting—but because he’s flooded with the senses and awareness his dreams refused to provide. Like the heaviness of Eijirō’s hand, the smell of petrichor and spice, that grin that hasn’t left since Katsuki agreed to his fuck-ass proposition. It’s overwhelming, yes, but not enough. At all.

“Boxers,” Katsuki finds himself panting before his mind can agree. “Boxers, off.”

Eijirō complies, giving him a false sense of dominance, and though Katsuki knows it’s a lie, he leans into his safety blanket with ease. Then, Eijirō’s staring again, and it makes Katsuki want to implode. The state he’s in is actually embarrassing—his dick is leaking, like actually crying, for Eijirō to touch it, and Katsuki can’t help but second that opinion.

He’s fucked.

He doesn’t have much time to tear at the inside of his cheek as a hand quickly wraps around him, softer than he was expecting and cold with lube. Katsuki gasps and rushes to hide it behind a cough—the corners of Eijirō’s lips twitch anyway, the bastard.

Katsuki narrows his eyes, but doesn’t have time to bite back before Eijirō starts flicking his wrist, knuckles brushing the underside of his head. Katsuki chokes on a moan, then his right shoulder pops, and he blows a hole straight to the mattress. A sharp and distinctive pain runs up his shoulder and down his back. He adjusts, tries to find a good place to—his hands, he needs—

“Just lay down, Dude.”

No. That is a very vulnerable position, and he’s already vulnerable enough. Beyond.

But, Eijirō’s placing the palm that was resting on Katsuki’s thigh to his chest—why are his hands so soft?—until Katsuki’s back kisses the burnt bed. Against his better judgement, he lets him.

Then, Eijirō gets back to work with an uncanny precision—waiting until he finds what makes Katsuki’s thighs jump, and does it again. Katsuki lets his crackling palms face the ceiling and he takes advantage of the fact that Eijirō can’t see him, and bites the fuck out of his lip once realizing he’s too vocal for his own good.

The hand on his chest slides to the right, slowly, and pinches a nipple through his shirt. Katsuki’s body seizes, then melts, and he‘s covering up another moan. Despite a flickering hand, he uses it to prop himself up and swat at the redhead.

“What the fuck, Shitty Hair!”

He sounds a little too breathless for comfort.

“I—Sorry!” Eijirō’s eyes go wide like he actually didn’t mean it, and he needs to wipe that look off his face, quick, before Katsuki starts to feel bad. But, Eijirō’s hands don’t stop, and the familiar smell of burning fabric wafts through the air.

“I h-hate you,” Katsuki’s panting now, and he should probably lay back down, but Eijirō’s eyes have him in their fucking clutches. They reflect nothing but fascination, the same unadulterated awe Katsuki gets when he takes down a building, and he hates the way it makes his stomach tighten.

Eijirō’s hand drifts from his chest to his stomach, with the same light touch that got him hit in the first place, and Katsuki shivers when fingers ghost his ribs.

“Fuckin’—stop that.”

“What,” Eijirō whines like he does when they talk about anything else. Well. Katsuki won’t be able to hear that the same again. Then, with a cheesy wiggle of his eyebrows, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Yeah, that’s the fucking problem.

“No-o,” Katsuki tries and fails, as Eijirō lightly drags blunt nails down his side. The arm he’s leaning on crackles and pops again. Ouch.

Eijirō snorts, and Katsuki flops back onto the mattress with huff. “Uh-huh.”

“Wasn’t there a rule about you shuttin’ the fuck up?”

“Yeah, but you keep letting me yap, so…” the redhead snorts as his fingers swirl in Katsuki’s happy trail, and his stomach seizes under the touch. “Figured I’d get away with it while you feel too good to remember.”

“Fuck you,” Katsuki spits, though, he’s honestly thankful for Eijirō’s fat mouth—it keeps him out of his head, and yelling at his bitch ass friend. “I don’t feel shit.”

“Oh, well that’s my bad, lemme just—”

The hand on Katsuki’s stomach is gone, but he barely has any time to miss it before Eijirō palms his balls and tugs.

“Motherfucker—”

There’s a loud kaboom, and Katsuki’s back goes stiff straight as a ball of hot fire goes barreling towards the bed frame, leaving black tracks and cracked wood in its wake. The grip on his balls loosens while Eijirō goes slack-jawed, staring at the damage, but the hand on his cock continues, rhythm already set.

“Dude…” Eijirō chuckles in amazement. “Your bed…”

“See why I said ‘my room’ now, Shitty Hair?” Katsuki intends to grunt, but the voice that leaves his lips is completely foreign—light, soft, breathless. Eijirō shakes his head in disbelief.

“I mean…yeah, but holy shit.”

The memory of everyone filing out of their third year dorms flashes behind Katsuki’s eyelids. Yeah, holy shit.

Katsuki goes quiet after that, with the occasionally filtered grunt and pop of the palms, but he tries to concentrate on keeping his quirk under control. Because, he didn’t realize he needed to—yeah, he figured someone else’s hand would feel better than his own (not that he’d know either of those things) but he didn’t expect Eijirō to actually be good at this, thumbing and flicking and twisting his hand like he’s done this to someone else before. Has he?

Katsuki tries to not think about that too much, focusing on his palms instead.

Unfortunately, that also means his orgasm sneaks up on him out of fucking nowhere.

One moment, he’s imagining a weight in his hands and trying to shut the fuck up, and then suddenly, a heat rushes over him that has Katsuki gasping for air.

“Shit-Shitty Hair,” he pants, focusing on the cracks of the ceiling instead of the man between his legs. Or the embarassment that the pleasure just barely overrides. “I…I need t’a…’M gonna…”

“Cum?”

He says it so easy, but Katsuki doesn’t have much time to reel from the shame, instead just nodding, pathetically, “Uh-huh.”

There’s a million questions in his head, none of which come out his mouth right. He’s able to pick out the loudest one, figuring it’s important or something, he doesn’t fucking know.

“Whe-Where—”

“You’re good, Dude,” Eijirō says, and Katsuki can see a dismissive hand wave before his eyes slam shut again. Said hand finds his bare thigh and tugs him closer. “I got’cha.”

And, that’s not fucking fair.

Katsuki’s orgasm hits him like a freight train, back arching and letting out the loudest, highest sound he’s ever heard himself make. He thinks—because all he really hears is the blood in his ears and his current mantra of oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, as he comes undone under Eijirō’s palm. The smell of burnt fabric fills his nose, but he doesn’t have the wherewithal to care. The redhead works him through his first proper orgasm diligently, like it’s a fucking job, until Katsuki’s vision comes back and he’s weakly kicking him away.

“Holy shit.”

Katsuki lifts his head to see Eijirō staring at his hand with a look that borders on shock, and Katsuki’s ears start burning again when he remembers where he is. He just came, all over his fr—Eijirō just jacked him off, and no—

“You cum a lot.”

Katsuki growls and kicks Eijirō square in the chest.

“Literally shut the fuck up, you—“ Katsuki inhales sharp when he watches his cum drip between Eijirō’s spreading fingers and onto the floor. There’s splatters of it on his chest and chin and—did Katsuki get any on himself at all? “Fuckin—clean up, Shitty Hair. That’s nasty as hell.”

“Right, right,” Eijirō chuckles like nothing happened, like he didn’t just give himself a fucking facial. He pushes himself from the floor on his clean hand with a grunt, standing over Katsuki with a look of genuine concern. “Feel better?”

“Fuckin’ obviously,” he huffs, and would cross his arms if he could—if his bones didn’t feel like jelly. “Now, get outta here before your face looks like my fuckin’ sheets.”

Eijirō snorts, but listens with a nod and smile.

“‘Kay. G’night Dude, sweet dreams.”

Katsuki scoffs. Eijirō says that every night, but with new context comes new meaning. He hopes that he has horrible dreams—and that Eijirō is in none of them.

“Fuck off.”

Katsuki hears him chuckle down the hall. Fuckhead.

It’s not until the bathroom door shuts that Katsuki surveys his own body to realize that, yes, he’s clean, save for a little wetness on his dick. A shiver, and then Katsuki’s blood runs hot again. He collapses back into the destroyed mattress to ground himself, shoving hands into his face.

What. The fuck.

The socks did, in fact, stay on.

They sort through the crowd—avoiding the plethora of circular tables taking space where a dance-floor should probably be—to find some empty stools by a bar. Hanta orders a Jameson on the rocks, Denki goes for something insanely sweet, and Katsuki sticks to his recent regular.

“Water.” He orders, and the bartender responds with a curt nod.

Lifting a disappointed hand at his friend, Denki groans dramatically. “Dude. What the fuck.”

“What?” Hanta snickers, peering over his friend’s head for an answer.

“Fuck off, Denki,” Katsuki warns. Denki does not listen.

“I—you do not tell me to fuck off,” he feigns shock, like this is the first time Katsuki’s told him this, placing a hand over his heart. Katsuki’s water comes sliding across the counter, and he swipes it up with ease. “I am helping you, Sir, like the gracious buddy I am— Now. Quit being a buzzkill, and drink something that’s not naturally found in the human body.”

Denki offers up his mudslide, to which Katsuki pretends to gag at, taking a sip of his water to wash out the concept of its taste. Pikachu isn’t…wrong, per se—he has been unnecessarily irritable lately, like high school irritable, but this place is packed, the music is loud, it’s late, and he’s no longer in his twenties. Katsuki’s not built for this shit anymore.

(He never was.)

“Dude,” Hanta leans behind the dirty blond to place a hand on Katsuki’s bicep. “We can go back if you’re not up for this tonight.”

Katsuki sighs. He’s never up for it.

“‘S fine, ’m tired.”

He runs a hand over his face, ignoring the way anxious lurch in his chest. It’s the truth, technically. He is tired. Tired from work, tired from the same routine every day, tired of looking at the same streets, tired of coming home to a dark and empty house and tired of a silence that never greets him back.

And, it’s past his bed time. Put physical exhaustion on the list.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,”

The music comes to an abrupt stop as an unfamiliar voice echoes through a ribbon microphone. At first, Katsuki tenses with the thought that he stupidly left his gauntlets at home—until he sees a man under a spotlight, dressed in a cheesy bow tie, tuxedo and top hat combo take a stage he never noticed on the opposite side of the room. People immediately mill about like ants on a hill in search of their appropriate seating.

“Thank you for joining us on this lovely evening. Hopefully the Paparrazzi weren’t too aggressive.”

The crowd laughs. Katsuki barely finds it funny, but he’s too busy trying to understand what the hell is going on. Tables in a club bewilder him. Is this a strip club? Why would they take him to a strip club? He eyes Denki, who grins with a thumbs up, ultimately giving him fucking nothing.

“Tonight, we open with a crowd favorite,” the emcee says, pausing as a few returning customers whoop in the audience. The man says something else, but Katsuki can’t hear much over the rolling sounds of the crowd—some of whom edge to the ends of their seats like it’ll give them a better view.

Katsuki remembers seeing the slogan on Instagram: ‘A club built by Pro Heroes for Pro Heroes!’ Then he scoffed, rolled his eyes, and carried on with his life. Sounded like a shit show then—sounds like a shit show now. He expected the sea of paparazzi at the entrance, expected the packed interior, expected the shitty bar and tacky napkins.

Didn’t expect you, though.

Red velvet curtains open, blooming like a flower, to a crescendo of brass and drums. In center stage sits a large scallop shell, which blooms just like the curtains to reveal you, dressed in pearls and curls and scantily clad in something hidden beneath a sheer robe with roses for shoulders. A soft piano begins, and your movements are equally gentle, in time with the beat, and suggestive. Over-lined lips trace the words into a bedazzled iteration of the hosts’microphone.

Your hips move in slow circles, like you’re dancing for yourself, like you’re alone at home in a mirror—like Katsuki’s the complete pervert here, like he’s watching you through a window or peeking under your skirt. Your hands find your shoulders to strip that ruffly pink coat like the useless thing it is, revealing a corset lined with pearls and starfish and colored tights. The song evolves into something theatrically jazzy, and two less dramatic versions of you scurry on stage to help you out the mollusk. You never break eye contact with the audience on your descent, fluttering dramatic eyelashes and staying on beat.

“Eh? Eh?” Denki gives him an excited nudge to the ribs. Katsuki swats his elbow away, but keeps his eyes on you.

Truly, he doesn’t know if he wants to kiss or kill Denki Kaminari.

You start to perform with movements vaguely reminiscent of something that belongs in the fifties, matching the other dancers with a little variation.

Feathers, pearls, and heels blend into a sensual kerfuffle and the audience loses their minds, whistling and waving shitty bar napkins in the air like handkerchiefs. But, it’s not like Katsuki doesn’t understand the idiocy. He quickly finds himself as immersed in you as you are in the music. His body sways as you strut left, and he takes a sip of water, suddenly parched. It doesn’t do the trick, though.

“Y’all got beer?” He asks over his shoulder. It’s a stupid question, obviously they have beer, but the bartender nods in his peripheral, handing him a menu. Katsuki doesn’t have to review it for long. Passing the laminated paper back over his shoulder, he grumbles, “Gimme a Sapporo.”

Unfortunately, despite the distraction, he has the wherewithal to see Denki whispering something into Hanta’s ear. Getting defensive, Katsuki flips his friends off, earning a snicker in response. His focus quickly returns to said distraction, and you currently have your arms open, lipsyncing something about the big and messy spectacle of life before losing yourself in the jazz break. You step back from the mic while lifting a netted pearl and seashell skirt—where it came from is beyond him—to get a better use of your legs. Then, you start doing a little jig, hair bouncing and face frowning as you shake your head from side to side. A clap in time with the song fills the room, and though Katsuki doesn’t join in, he might’ve tapped his foot few times, before noticing a sweaty beer with a precariously dangling cap had been delivered. He grabs it.

The singing begins again and you return to the mic. At some point, Katsuki swears your eyes fall on him, but you consistently peer at members of the audience, you know, like a good performer. You might’ve seen him for an instant, sure, but he easily fades into the background in a crowd of Pro Heroes. (That, and he’s literally in the back, so.)

Not that it matters.

Katsuki descides to not pay you too much attention after that. Instead, he plays with the rings on his fingers, toys with the torn fabric of his jeans, drinks. It feels like your performance is over before it began, and he misses it the moment that last note hits, but refuses to let the feeling linger.

There’s a round of applause, and as the next performance commences, he begins to wonder how many of these there are, and how bad it would look if he tried to dip out early. His high school self did irreparable damage to his reputation—damage that he’s stuck fixing to this day. (It doesn’t help that he’s still, technically, kind of, a dick. Much less though, and Eijirō says that’s progress, so Katsuki’s sticking with it. Fuck you.)

Thankfully, his friends seem to read his mind.

“C’mon,” Hanta whispers with a tilt of his head. Katsuki makes sure to grab his beer, because he just got this shit, before following them deeper into the building. After a turn, they pass a set of bathrooms, and trail down a hallway with a blaring red EXIT sign at its end. Denki pushes it open with a bit of struggle, and suddenly, Katsuki’s overwhelmed by the cool midnight air and a dark alley.

“Well, what’cha think?” Denki says with a knowing grin. Katsuki’s too busy trying to figure out why it feels like his friend is up to something. They perch on a wall—well, Denki and Hanta lean their backs against it while Katsuki hovers, because he’s not touching that crusty-dusty dirty ass shit—and after a swig, Katsuki narrows his eyes.

“Whad’dya want.”

Hanta barks out a laugh as Denki short circuits, proving his suspicions correct. Yep. Definitely up to something.

“I—wha, you—I don’t want anything,” he reasons with a not-so-casual laugh and roll of his neck. Katsuki’s eyes grow tighter. “I don’t! If anything, you should b—“

“Denki?”

The sound is soft. Quiet. Much too quiet to belong in this dingy ass alley.

Katsuki turns around. Your makeup is gone, save for the places it’s stained your skin, and you’re dressed in far more oversized and comfortable clothing (for you and him), but he still recognizes you. Your hair is still the same, and silver glitter dusts your collarbones, twinkling like stars despite the lack of lighting between buildings.

It takes everything that he’s learned in his thirty two years of living to not sock the fuck out of Denki Kaminari.

“Katsuki Bakugō, meet Y/N,” Denki says with a smooth switch of sides, grabbing you by your shoulders with a shit eating grin that Katsuki would love to see with missing teeth. “Y/N, meet Katsuki Bakugō. Also known as the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite, who—“

“I’m going to punch you in the fuckin’ face.”

Hanta laughs again, and honestly, he might catch one too. Denki beams because he knows what he’s doing, the little shit just lucked out that this his shitty fucking plan worked this time.

“What! No!” You plead with eyes bulging out of your head.

“Not you, Dumbass,” Katsuki lets out an exausperated sigh, running a hand over his face before gesturing to the perpetrator with a fuck ass lightning bolt in his hair. “Him.”

“No, what did he do?” You whine, relaxing when you understand the threat isn’t a promise and Katsuki lunge at the blond. Though he wants to. Very, very badly.

Denki’s been trying to set him up for months.

Not with you, specifically, but with people—all of whom Katsuki refuses to meet or regrets once he does. But this time…

This time will be the exact fucking same.

“Oh, don’t worry—he’s just like that,” Denki says with a dismissive flick of the wrist, before leaning into you and whispering loud enough for Katsuki to hear. “Between me and you, I think he liked your s—“

“Cut it, Pikachu,” Katsuki’s voice is low with warning as he feels his palms start to heat. Because now, Katsuki feels like a cornered animal—if he tells the truth, he embarrasses himself. If he covers it up with a lie, he risks making you feel like shit. So, crossing his arms, he settles on, “It was fine.”

You giggle, sweet and melodic, and Katsuki wants to hear it again. “Well, if you liked it, I’m glad. And, if you didn’t, then…I’m sorry?”

Katsuki grumbles a ‘s fine’ under his breath and refuses to look you in the eyes. There’s a set of hands on his shoulders, and he would’ve lit some shit up if Hanta’s voice didn’t immediately follow. “We might’ve forced him here against his will. Hey Babe, how ya doing?”

Babe? Since when the fuck did Sero Hanta start calling people Babe?

(All the time, he got it from Eijirō. Katsuki’s being a dick.)

“Hi, Hanta,” you sing-song with a sway that has Katsuki confused. He tries to not think too much of it—before realizing, why does he care.

“So,” he starts, looking at his watch. 1 am. Definitely past his bedtime. “We about to just hang out in a fuck-ass alley or…?”

“No, I just wanted to say hi,” Denki gives you a final hug. “And, say that you did great, oh ma goodnesh!”

Denki’s face squishes into yours when he tugs you too close, and you laugh again, pushing at his waist. “Okay, I gotta get ready for the closer.”

The dirty blond lets go, reluctantly. “Fine. Just know that you were hot.”

“Yes, you tell me that every week,” you say half-heartedly while adjusting your hair. Katsuki frowns, and his mouth moves before he can remember to shut the fuck up.

“If you gotta perform again, why’d you take the makeup off?”

“‘Cause it’s easier to just start from scratch then work around it,” you say in a much kinder tone and somewhat sheepishly, making Katsuki wonder if that isn’t protocol. You give them all a wave goodbye before heading deeper into the darkness. There’s something about watching a pretty girl disappear into an alley that doesn’t feel right, but Katsuki lets it go.

“Got a ride home, Babe?”

There’s that Babe shit again.

“Yep!” You call from a door not too far from the one they came out of. “No more hiccups like last time!”

They wait until the door closes firmly behind you before ordering an Uber. During the few minute wait, Katsuki finishes his beer…and is almost subjected to another one of Denki’s propositions.

“So, Ka—“

“No,” Katsuki shakes his head with his jaw set, lifting a finger. “What the fuck was that?”

“I was going to explain, before you cut me off,” Denki huffs, snatching the beer out of Katsuki’s hand to steal a sip. It earns him a heavy slap upside the head. “I’ve known her for a few years, but when Hanta tried calling dibs, I started thinking…you’re painfully—depressingly—single…and Hanta’s a fucking dog, so—“

“That’s not how this shit works, Dumbass,” and he thought Denki knew this, but with the way he’s moving, clearly not.Beyond that, you’re clearly interested in Hanta, so why waste his fucking time? Plus, he doesn’t give a shit just Eijirō says—having a partner with his publicity sounds like a fucking nightmare.

Denki whines, stomping his feet when Katsuki doesn’t let him finish, again. “I’m not done! She wants you, dude!”

“Um,” Katsuki blinks, swallows, tries to play it off as condescension. “And how do we know this?”

“The short version? Slipped during a drunk DnD game. The long version? Basically, I—“

“Short version’s fine,” Katsuki groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t know if Denki’s statement has any merit, or if you’re even tolerable. He doesn’t really care to find out. All of this sounds like a disaster.

“Yeah, ‘m good,” he grunts with a shake of his head. The Uber Black pulls up with impeccable timing, allowing Katsuki’s to stuff hands in his pockets and exit this conversation as swift as it began.

(Only, that wasn’t true, because he was pestered with ‘but why are you ‘good’ though’ the entire car ride home.)

The next time Katsuki sees you, you punch him in the face.

Late night walks home are never fun. And yes, you know Denki and Hanta have offered to wait or return to pick you up a multitude of times, and though this is the one time you might’ve actually taken them up on the offer, it’s three am, and your ride fell through until thirty minutes ago. There’s no way you’re calling a Pro Hero out of their sleep to come get some scared little girl when they have to get up tomorrow to save the world again, or some shit. You could probably book it home and be fine, right? Right.

You felt a lot more comfortable with that decision before you stepped into the evening.

With a huff, you tug the fur coat closer to your person like it’ll make you feel better. It doesn’t. Your ears ring like they’re searching for an abrasive and overwhelming environment that’s no longer there. There’s no sound save for the click-clack of your heels, the roads are vacant and dark, with every other street lamp working. You debate on using your phone as a light, but you’d rather not call attention to yourself.

Sometimes, being a woman sucks ass.

You think that thought again, and again, and again, as you hear another set of footsteps join yours in the silence, heavy with the occasional clink of something light and metal against something light and metal, coming closer with each step. You stupidly left your keys in your bag, which have your mace and taser attached to the ring. For a moment, you debate how quickly and inconspicuously you can get it out. That is, until you look down at the abundance of chunky golden rings littering your fingers, and you shrug—you at least had the forethought to learn how to throw a fist for your late night profession. The hefty hand on your shoulder ruptures your thoughts.

You stick to the plan, pivot, and swing. All you see is flaxen blond hair as the culprit doubles over with a hand rushing to his face.

“Good fuckin’ shot.”

Oh. You know that voice.

Oh no, you know that voice.

“Oh!”

You jump back and yelp like you’ve been hit when Katsuki removes his domino mask to show split skin over the bridge of his nose. When you rush forward to get a closer look, it begins to bleed. “Oh no, no—I am, like, beyond sorry—”

“‘S fine,” he gruffs, shrugging you off. A gloved—gauntleted?—finger runs across his nose bridge, and comes back wet. “Probably should’ve announced myself or some shit.”

“U-Uh, yeah probably, but still,” you brush yourself down, suddenly hyperaware of how you look right now. A mess. At least last time, you had the luxury of seeing him between sets. Now, your face is freshly washed, hair haphazard, and he’s in a fitted hero outfit with a body from the Gods on display. “Let me—I can cover a hospital bill, o-or—“

“Won’t need no damn hospital, Dumbass,” he sneers with a sniff. “Now, c’mon. Which way?”

“I—w-what?”

“Right, left, straight.” Katsuki points out the obvious, but you’re busy trying to put the pieces together. He’s…walking you home?

Okay, he’s walking you home. Be still my heart, be cool, be chill, be—

“Right, uhm,” and you panic once he turns. Not what you meant. “I—wait! No, straight. We go straight.”

Katsuki grumbles something under his breath before the belts on his boots rattle when he hops into the street. He looks over his shoulder with an expectant scowl, flyaways back-lit by the one good street lamp for the block. It takes you a second to realize he’s not holding his elbow out to do some weird stretch, but it’s for you. Quickly, you loop your arm around his.

The first few minutes of the walk are silent, though your mind is not. You’re busy fighting the intrusive thoughts on one front and finding an appropriate icebreaker on the other. Luckily, he beats you to it.

“How’d you learn t’dance?”

It catches you off guard.

“A-Ah, well,” you start fiddling with your fingers, “I did it on and off as a kid, and once I got older I started to dance at school, though I was never that great at it.”

“Y’looked plenty good to me,” he rumbles, and your face heats. “What about the jazz?”

“Thank you. I guess…there’s something about cabaret that reminds me of drag, y’know? Like you do something pretty chill, or elegant, or you can go burlesque, full camp, all va-va-voom, y’know? And, I don’t need to be able to touch my toes for that.”

“Full camp, va-va-voom,” Katsuki repeats under his breath with a chuckle. “That explains the dramatics.”

You nod, picking up a pep in your step as you feel the mood lighten. “I like dramatics.”

Eyeing your fluffy coat, the blond scoffs. “I can tell.”

“Hey,” you whine, puffing your cheeks. “What’s that supposed t—oh, turn right here.”

Katsuki obliges silently. There’s that lull again, and then, “So, where’d you meet Denki?”

“Oh my god,” you throw your head back in amusement, remembering the evening a little too vividly. “Um, we don’t have a mutual friend…technically? But, a friend of a friend was fucking his friend, and it ended horribly. That night. In front of everyone. I was pretty anxious back then, I guess he could tell or something, so he kept cracking jokes to make me feel better. At first, I was a little worried he was coming onto me? But then I realized out that’s just who he is. I met Hanta pretty recently, though.”

You finish your long-winded story with a lot less confidence than when you started it. Katsuki doesn’t say anything, just knits his face like he’s trying to figure out who the hell the mutual friend could be, but you’re better at remembering faces than names, and it was years ago.

“He ask you out yet?” Katsuki chuckles. It’s supposed to be a joke, but it falls a little flat—Maybe it’s just wishful thinking. You tug Katsuki to the left, and the streets lighten as you get closer to your apartment.

“Uhm, yeah, actually,” you nod, biting the inside of your cheek. “I said no.”

That last bit was unnecessary.

Katsuki snorts in disbelief, raising his eyebrows, but doesn’t say a word.

“What?” You drag, dying to be inside his head. He doesn’t give you much.

“Nothin,” he says with a shake of his head and a quick frown. “Nothin’. Just—seemed like he was your type.”

“You don’t even know my type,” you say with a sly grin, peeling away from him so you can walk backwards and get a better look at his face. “Why do you care?”

“I—Because,” he flounders, looking everywhere but you. You never thought you’d see him at a loss for words. “Aren’t friends supposed to give a shit about shit like that? I don’t fuckin’ know.”

You giggle, spinning a heel before realizing you’ve met the door to your apartment building. Your joy falters a bit when you realize the fun is over. But, as you turn to see Katsuki’s face in the light, you notice how deep the cut on his nose actually is. And it’s been leaking, made evident by the smudges of dried blood between his eyes. Clearly, you need to repent.

“Lemme patch you up,” you offer (repent). “It’s the least I could do.”

Katsuki stands there, shifting his weight on both feet like the options sit on his feet—leave, come in, leave, come in. His eyes shift to the end of the street. He checks his watch, and you look over his wrist. Four am.

“Fine,” he huffs, following you up the stairs. “Patrols over anyway.”

You smile and usher him inside the building. It isn’t until you get under florescent elevator lights that you’re able to properly appreciate the body in the uniform, all easily bitable muscle, broad shouldered with a waist to be jealous of. You speak to keep yourself grounded. Like, you’re cool, you’re chill. Katsuki Bakugō walking and then entering your home is so chill, actually.

“You look tired.”

“Wow. Thanks,” he lets out a laugh, a real laugh this time, with a crinkling forehead and a shy smile hidden behind his gloved hand. You find yourself floating at the sight. So much for grounded. “Y’know that’s just a polite way of telling someone they look like shit, right?”

Your smile drops, and you officially return to earth.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean—I wasn’t tryin—“

“You’re fine,” he says, forcing frustration past a grin. The elevator doors ding as you reach your floor, and his hand finds the back of your head to push you out.

When you get to your door, you struggle to put your keys in the lock. You get it on the third try, but your hands are numb from the cold and shaking with adrenaline, and your childhood celebrity crush is hovering over your shoulder, goddammit, you deserve a little grace. So much, actually.

And, oh fuck—you didn’t clean the place before you left.

You work on Mondays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. It’s Saturday. Getting ready for work is a full-morning affair, and you aren’t back until the late evenings, opting to shower at work so you can just roll into bed. This leaves very little time to clean from Thursday to Saturday. That, and you own too many obnoxiously large pieces of clothing that refuse fit in your wardrobe, so your living room has become your work closet. A very messy work closet. Long story short: clothes are everywhere.

This is not grace.

Hanging racks line both sides of your living room, stuffed with clothing in all shades of your favorite colors. Wigs, pearls, a random piece of fabric that you debated on sewing into a coat during last night’s manic episode litter the floor. It looks like someone packed their suitcase too tight and it just exploded, all in your living room, all on the couch and the loveseat and the ottoman and the floor. You turn around, mouth agape and ready to explain that you really aren’t this messy (which is a lie), but he pays it no mind, preoccupied by the cat purring at his boots.

“Y’got a cat.”

“Sorry, are you allergic?”

You move quickly, scooping Salem from his feet and quietly cursing at yourself for forgetting your usual ‘i have cats fyi’. warning. She actually likes being held—unlike your other bastard, who’s here somewhere—and nestles herself comfortably in the cradle of your arms. Katsuki shakes his head.

“No. Don’t mind ‘em,” he says, and you step closer, offering her up to pet. He takes you up on it, chucking when his fingers touch Salem’s head and she trills in surprise.

“I’d expect you to be a dog person,” you huff, trying to ignore the lack of distance between you that he has yet to notice. Katsuki shakes his head again, and you watch his face crease at the thought.

“Too much work,” he reasons. You snort. That was the reason you got cats, after all. Katsuki’s eyes finally lift from the cat to you, and in realizing that your noses are almost touching, he takes a step back and clears his throat. You move to let Salem down, who’s now wiggling in protest. “Y’gon’ stitch me up, or what?”

“Right!” You clap away the embarrassment of forgetting the reason he’s here in the first place. Why else would he be? Spinning on your heel, snake lead him through the chaos that is your apartment and into the guest bathroom (aka only the bathroom without litter boxes) and tell him you’ll be right back.

It isn’t until you reach your own bathroom to grab the first aid kit from the cupboard under your sink that your mind finally catches up to your heart. What the fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

What the fuck is Dynamight doing in your apartment?

Whose idea was this?

You groan the thought away as you reach into the back of the cabinet, pulling out a small red bag. You open it, thumb through in an effort to discern what you need, before muttering a ‘fuck it’ and deciding to bring the whole thing. You make sure to hide your Dynamight figurine behind your books before exiting your room. Just in case.

Just in case what?

This has to be Denki’s fault…somehow. Yes, you decide. You made the mistake about telling him how you had a major obsession with Dynamight in high school, when he was out there saving the world for, like, the fifth time. You told him how you watched the news through big round glasses, trying to sew something that didn’t entirely make sense, while Katsuki blew through a building. What you didn’t say was that crush never quite went away. Fully.

You don’t know why—your friends dragged you for it until you were perceptibly over it, over him. He was a dick (is a dick? you don’t know him) but you’ve always been curious, like a scientist prodding at the unknown, who he is behind closed doors, how he likes his eggs, what he sounds like first thing in the morning, what makes him tick. And now, he sits in your guest bathroom, fully clothed on the toilet with gauntlets at his feet and bare hands on his knees and stiff, like he’s worried he’ll knock something over if he breathes too hard. With your cluttered self, he just might.

Oh, this is not okay on so many levels.

“Uhm,” you say in hopes it’ll get you out of your head. It doesn’t, but it makes him look at you with carmine eyes, patiently, expectantly. Digging in the bag, you realize you started a conversation you aren’t sure how to finish. “So…how was your day…?”

Why would you say that.

He scoffs, but humors you regardless. “Solid. You?”

Fantastic, I punched a really hot guy that I’ve been watching through a screen for years in the face.

“Pretty good,” you hum. You keep digging through the bag until you find some butterfly bandaids, alcohol, and a pack of cotton rounds. Does it even make sense to clean it? God, why did you offer this if you don’t know what you’re doing? Whose idea was this?! Steeling yourself, you place the items on the edge of the counter, before turning to Katsuki to figure out how to do patch him up.

“Okay, I’m gonna clean it first,” you say unsteadily, but Katsuki grunts in affirmative, so you assume it’s not an incorrect thing to do. Sticking a cotton ball on top of the alcohol bottle, you flip it over and soak the cotton properly. As the acrid smell of rubbing alcohol burns your nostrils, you wonder if you should tell him it’s going to sting, but you don’t know. He probably does.

“Um,” you swallow and your steps stutter, realizing there’s no good way to get through—there’s no space on either sides of him, and his legs block you from getting too close. He seems to notice this, however, and spreads his thighs so you can fit between. What the fuck.

Hesitantly, you fit yourself between them. He looks up at you, head ending at your collarbones, and you swallow. This is fine—everything is fine.

“‘Kay,” you say, softly, like you’re worried anything louder might disrupt the sanctity of the bathroom, like there’s the possibility of scaring him off. “Ready?”

“Been ready since you invited me up here, Princess.”

Nope. None of this is okay.

With a deep breath, you press wet cotton to the bridge of his nose. A guilty feeling swirls in your gut when he hisses, eyebrows bending beneath the cotton. His right hand shoots to your lower thigh, but you try to ignore it. Big emphasis on try.

“Sorry,” you plead, choosing to address the guilt instead. He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“‘S fine. This shit ain’t got nothin’ on relocating your own shoulder.”

“You’ve done that? Like, to yourself?” You gasp while grabbing a new cotton ball, this one doused in water, before quickly returning to his side. (Front?)

He laughs for the second time tonight, and your heart feels like it’s going to explode.

“I have,” he nods, voice almost reminiscent. “Mid-fight.”

You cringe at the imagined feeling while wiping dried blood and rubbing alcohol off of his face. “That’s gnarly.”

“‘S not fun,” he agrees with a shrug, eyes blinking open once you take the cotton away. They follow you back to the sink. “But, beats getting shot in the leg.”

“Oh my god,” you choke on your appall from an unexpected response.

His eyes glitter in amusement. “What, did ya think this shit was easy?”

“I—No,” you splutter and grab the thin butterfly bandaid. “I just—I guess…I hadn’t thought about those things? I can’t imagine Denki getting shot at.”

This whole time, Katsuki has been getting shot at and quirked and dislocating arms, and all you could think about was how hot he was. You suck.

“Fair,” he chuckles, though it’s cut off by a hiss as you press the left side of the bandaid around a tender area on his nose. His hand finds your leg again to squeeze your knee. “‘F it makes you feel better, I can’t either.”

Biting your bottom lip, you slowly, surely, pinch the wound closed, and place the tape on the other side of his nose. Blunt nails dig into the back of your leg, and it kind of hurts, but you don’t mind the sting.

“This thing is a li’l bitch, though, I’ll give you that,” he huffs, and twitches his nose. Your heart drops and you recoil, and for a moment, you think panic flashes through his eyes as he pulls you back. “No, ‘s like a paper cut. Jus’all stingy and fuckin’ annoying.”

It’s most definitely much deeper than a paper cut, but you let him have it.

Finally, (read: sadly) you grab a larger standard brown bandaid and plaster it on top. With a wipe of your hands, you step back to admire your handiwork. His hand leaves your knee. “All patched up!”

Though, you start to second guess your efforts once Katsuki studies in the mirror above the sink. He hums, shifting his face for different angles, and your hands curl behind your back as you try to stomp that tight feeling in your chest.

“Not bad,” he grumbles to himself, and your heart flutters.

But then, he has to leave.

You walk him to your apartment door, back through the labyrinth of clothes and heels and accessories, past the kitty bowls and automatic feeders. You want to tell him to stay, to not go, but that is not only beyond embarrassing—you don’t know this man, save for a parasocial relationship and the two short but harrowing interactions you’ve had.

And yet. He seems to linger by the door like he’s waiting for something. Maybe you should unlock it for him.

As you begin to move forward, wedging yourself between him and the wall to fiddle with the doorknob, he places a hand his against the wall until his gloved forearm is blocking your face. You frown, and move to say something. He interrupts but doesn’t look at you, but toward the ghost of where you were two paces ago.

“Uh, thanks…for the...”

Katsuki’s free hand gestures to his nose. You scoff and brush it off with a shake of your head. But, neither of you move, and neither of you look at each other. It’s a weird position, talking to the raised patterns of his gauntlet. “Oh, please. It’s the least I could do. Thank you for walking me home.”

Katsuki shifts, arm melting until his body is in front of you, and you finally, reluctantly, meet his eyes. (Or else, you’d be looking at his tits, and while tempting, is definitely not okay.) You squint in hopes that it’ll keep them from reading your soul. There’s a small stretch of silence, and his back is to the doorknob, unfairly banning you from breaking it. Not that you’d want to.

“I don—“

“Do yo—“

You cut each other off with a laugh, his much more restrained then yours. With a chuck of his chin and a small smile, Katsuki says, “You first.”

You shake your head. Because, really, he could’ve been asking for anything.

“You go.”

With a huff, he rolls his eyes, then watches at his fingers drum on the wall. But, he goes.

“Do you—uh, you’re single, right?”

He says it so casually, with a flippant flip of the wrist, like it has no bearing on what happens next. And, you have to lock your knees to keep yourself from crumbling, because what?

You’ve never shaken your head so fast and so hard in your life. Kinda hurts, actually.

“Cool. Second question,” He seems to relax a bit, though, exhaling through his nose as his free hand flips up a brief number two before his knuckles find his hip. “Can I kiss you?”

Yes, God yes, good Lord do you want—

“Sure,” you breathe. Very cool, very chill.

He exhales, leaning over. You meet him halfway with trembling fingers clutching the hem of your the jacket you have yet to take off, faltering on the tips of your toes. Noticing your struggle with a snort, Katsuki grabs your body and tugs you close, leaving a gloved hand on the small of your back to do the heavy lifting.

This close, Katsuki Bakugō smells like a campfire.

The kiss is brief, tentative. His lips brush over yours gently, before repeating the motion again, and again, pressing deeper each time. It’s not long before your lost in a sea of heavy breathing and wandering palms. Eventually, your hands find his shoulders, and grip the taut material protecting them.

You whimper when he pulls away. But, it’s quickly taken back when you get to see him with flushed ears and pink lips, eyes blown wide and searching your face for something. You want to say something cheeky, something stupid like ‘not bad,’ but you can’t. The bastard stole your brain cells.

So instead, you laugh. It starts as a series of giggles, but quickly devolves into a nonsensical, belly-aching guffaw, to the point where you’re flicking at tears in your eyes. Because, what the fuck is happening?

“I—“ Katsuki starts, but he’s quickly cut off by a snort and a snicker, and you double over, hands finding his chest again as you try to compose yourself. It takes a second, but you get there.

“Are you…okay?”

You think it’s more of a general question referring to your well-being.

“Yeah…yeah, sorry,” you say, wiping at your face, but the giggles keep coming. “The kiss was great—you are great—this is just…insane, y’know.”

“No,” Katsuki snorts, leaning against the wall. And, how does one explain it’s crazy because I watch you on TV all the time. Every interview, every red carpet event, every commercial (all of which are rare) you’ve seen, you’ve reblogged, you know line by line and bar for bar—and now this man is in your home, kissing your face and you’re laughing. You suck part 2.

“I—uhm,” you start, before realizing—you what? You like him? You don’t know him!

“I…think you’re cool?” It comes out more like a question than a statement, and you want to bang your head against the wall because you suck part 3.

He smiles, and it’s small and sly and oh-so charming. “I think you’re cool, too.”

No he doesn’t! He doesn’t know you!

“So…uh…” Katsuki’s eyes flicker to the floor, but he plays it cool with a twist of his lips. “Are we allowed to go back to kissin’? Or…”

With a final giggle, you grab his face to pull him down to you. Katsuki meets your lips with a small smile. He breathes you in like you might disappear tomorrow and his hands find your waist yet again to tug you close. You fall into each other, giggling and kissing and stepping on toes.

You may not know him, and he may not know you—but you gotta start from somewhere, right?

Katsuki’s sexuality isn’t broadcasted, but it is…relatively well known to the group. Because, when he gets drunk, he likes to kiss, and though he wouldn’t touch any of his friends with a ten foot pole, Katsuki will find someone—germaphobia and all. And Eijirō, whose sexuality is a lot less stable, can’t avoid blaming the fact he has to watch his best friend make out with some random every few months for his inner turmoil. But, that is so beyond the point.

“What?” Eijirō manages to wheeze, and Katsuki’s ears go pink, but he doesn’t falter.

“Y’heard me,” he huffs. Eijirō actually manages to recover.

“I—why…” he says, begs actually, mainly asking himself with palms facing the ceiling. Because, why the hell would he—

“Got a date,” Katsuki crosses his arms like it’s something simple. Eijirō searches his face for anything—panic, regret, drugs—but comes up empty. Katsuki Bakugō is positively, undeniably, normal.

What. The fuck.

“And I—that includes sucking me off, because…”

“Because, I’m fuckin’ shit at it!” Katsuki hollers with balled fists, before his eyes cut to the corner of the room. The redhead blinks. He wants to…practice?

But then, he thinks that this might be an opportunity to figure his own shit out. So, before Eijirō can think himself into a corner, he shrugs:

“Screw it. Sure.”

Katsuki blinks. Like he didn’t expect Eijiro to say yes.

“But u-uhm,” Eijirō claps his hands together like it’ll dispel the nerves, as the position he put himself in begins to register, begins to sink into the marrow of his bones as they rot into something gross. Gesturing vaguely at his flat crotch, he says, “I don—I’m not—”

And Katsuki groans in obnoxious annoyance, throwing his head back and pinching his nose. “Then go ‘n watch porn or some shit, I don’t know—”

“That’s weird!” Eijirō whines, face going hot.

“It’s already weird!” Katsuki bites back, and, well. At least he acknowledges it.

“Weird-er!”

“Fuckin—“ Katsuki grunts under his breath, before storming forward with tense shoulders and dropping on his knees. “Gotta fuckin’ do everything myself. Gotta cook, gotta clean, gotta get you fuckin’ hard—”

“Hey! I clean,” Eijirō pouts, trying to ignore the warm fingers wrapping around the band of his sweatpants. “You’re so mean to me.”

Feeling a tug, he lifts his hips and Katsuki pulls the pants down to his ankles and away, so he can settle between his legs comfortably. Eijirō shivers against cool air, and can’t help but wonder if he had to take them all the way off…

“Someone has to keep you humble,” Katsuki mutters, and runs a palm over his boxers. The redhead exhales, but keeps quiet out of fear that he’ll scare him off. “All you do is leave your gym shit around the house.”

Eijirō is struggling to breathe and Katsuki just…rattles on, berating his roommate for his bad habits and flawed perception like this is a normal Thursday night. The nonchalance of all of this is actually killing him.

“You—fuck—you use my ‘gym shit’ anyways,” Eijirō huffs, trying to stay cool and calm and professional as he grows under the weight of his best friend’s hand. With a sigh, Katsuki props an elbow on Eijirō’s knee and rests his chin in a spare palm.

“Hurry up, Shitty Hair.”

“I’m trying,” Eijirō’s teeth grit and he narrows his eyes with straining hips. “Stop stressing me out.”

With a roll of his eyes, Katsuki reaches into Eijirōs boxers to pull his cock out, leaving him hissing at the contact. His hands are a lot rougher than any of the women he’s been with. They’re calloused, and kind of hurt, but he doesn’t mind the burn. Then, Katsuki spits in his palm like it’s an afterthought, and starts to jack him off with an impatience only Katsuki Bakugō can.

“I—fuck, Dude, holy shit, chill out—” Eijirō pleads, because his thighs won’t stop twitching, and he’s trying to be fine, trying to be cool, but Katsuki won’t stop staring. There’s a vague fascination hidden behind his scowl, and Eijiro slams hands over his eyes when his balls tighten.

“Mm…no,” Katsuki says absentmindedly, but he lets up a little. Though Eijirō’s not sure whether it’s in his favor when he breathes, “Holy shit, Shitty Hair, you’re big.”

Cumming this early would be embarrassing, right?

“Dude, y-you can’t—”

“And, quit the ‘Dude’ shit,” Katsuki’s face contorts into something exhausperated—like it’s something he has been feeling—and Eijirō whines at the loss of his only mental buffer. “‘S weird.”

All of this is weird! All of it!

Katsuki doesn’t just wait until Eijirō’s just hard—he waits until he’s leaking, tip red and angry and throbbing. It’s not fair. Eijirō’s leg starts to bounce with impatience, and his friend, his best friend, notices with a snort. Keeping eye contact, Katsuki pulls his dick forward, kissing the tip before wrapping thin lips around Eijirō and taking him whole. Katsuki chokes, tears welling in the corners his eyes, but doesn’t falter.

Eijirō finally moans properly, hands fisting at his sides to keep them away from blond hair. It’s loud and broken and beyond embarrassing, but Katsuki hums like he likes it. Eijirō’s left staring at the ceiling, chest heaving as he debates every life choice that has led him up to this point. What does he even say? Dirty talk feels weird.

But then, there’s a tug on his balls and Eijirō almost knees him in the face. Katsuki chuckles with particularly rough drag of his tongue.

“W-What,” he asks shakily while looking down, and in biting the inside of his cheek, tries again. “What?”

Katsuki pulls off with a shrug, but his hand doesn’t stop. “Nothin’.”

His voice is rougher than usual, like he swallowed gravel along with him, and Eijirō fails to suppress a shiver. And, Katsuki won’t stop looking at him, which isn’t fucking fair.

“Stop it.”

“Stop wha,” Katsuki asks, stupidly, like he already knows the answer. “Stop suckin’ your dick?”

No. Stop making me feel things.

“N…No,” Eijirō huffs with straining shoulders. His eyes meet Katsuki’s again, before his stomach tightens and his eyes return to the ceiling, counting its cracks and blemishes. “Stop looking at me.”

Katsuki snorts, and though he isn’t able see him, Eijirō feels his eyes burning bright into his chest like a brand.

“Why?”

“Because,” he whines, running a hand over his face. It’s weird. Eijirō doesn’t even know if Katsuki is really practicing, because in his opinion, it just feels like he’s getting his dick wet. Then, Katsuki’s mouth sinks down…down…down, until Eijirō can feel breath below his belly button.

No. No, absolutely not.

But, against his will, Eijirō’s eyes shoot between his legs to see Katsuki absolutely full of him, cheeks hollow and lips where the base of his cock should be. One singular thought rings true in his empty head: I think I love this man.

With a groan and a ‘fuck it,’ Eijirō’s hands card through thick blond hair, scratching at Katsuki’s skull. He moans, so Eijirō does it again, and again. And again. Katsuki begins to move, finally, throat convulsing around his cock, and still watching him with those damn eyes. They begin to water with a cough, and Eijirō finds himself thumbing a tear away before reminding himself to lock in.

“Oh my God,” he groans, throwing his head back. He starts to move Katsuki himself, and he lets him, as his hands find Eijirō’s thighs to steady himself. This is not fair, at all, and Eijirō regrets agreeing to this. Slightly. Definitely not enough.

But then, the warm coil in his belly threatens to snap, forcing his eyes from the ceiling in a panic.

“O-Okay, so,” Eijirō preps himself, nestling into the couch cushions as his grip tightens in Katsuki‘s hair. “So, I’m gonna cum—like soon, an-and I don’t know what you-you’re tryna do ‘bout that, s-so—”

His thoughts stall when Katsuki looks up at him through dusty eyelashes and chucks his thumb back in invitation. Eijirō barely has enough time to debate whether he wants to do this before he’s gasping out a moan, heels slamming into the flooring as he unloads down Katsuki’s throat. The blond’s face scrunches, not in a particularly bad way, as he focuses on swallowing, and swallowing, and swallowing. Eijirōs hips stutter, and he pulls Katsuki’s swollen lips off of him with a broken groan.

“U-Uhm,” Eijirō wavers as regret, shame, and all the other feelings associated with post-nut clarity flood his system. Quickly, his hands leave Katsuki’s hair and return to his sides. “Sorry about that.”

“Yer good,” Katsuki coughs and straightens his hair. Stumbling to his feet and wiping the remaining cum off his lips, he grunts. “Thanks, Idiot.”

“Uh, yeah! Glad to help,” Eijirō cheeses and gives him a thumbs up, but his pants are still down, dammit, and he’s gross and sweaty and Katsuki missed a spot. He watches the back of his friends head as he leaves the room—a head that was just between his legs—hair matted and disheveled by Eijirō’s hands. Eijirō waits until it’s safe, until there’s a closed bedroom door between them, before he throws his face into a couch cushion and screams, because what the fuck.

He will never look at the living room the same again.

He will never look at Katsuki the same again.

Eijirō’s never been deepthroated in his life, let alone by a man, and now, all the neat boxes in his brain that built his understanding of who he is as a person begin to shift. Then shatter.

He couldn’t look Katsuki in the eye for a week.

Things didn’t improve all that much as he grew older, but he did get a little better. At least he no longer threw tantrums over not getting ice cream after school or every time he was told “no.” And he no longer sought praise for merely breathing. He preferred to truly earn his title as “the best” at whatever he decided to do—even if that meant knocking some other kids down to get there faster. A minor improvement, but his selfish nature was still wildly out of control. Even when he did recognize it, he didn’t care enough to fix it. He was already seen as an asshole, what was the point in trying to change the minds of people he saw as below him?

It wasn’t until he broke free of his ass-kissing, follower friends and met you, Eijirou, and the other friends "extras" from UA that he finally began to really see and care about his selfish ways—especially how they affected the people he truly respected and cared about. Katsuki wasn’t devoid of a heart, despite what many people believed. He wasn’t incapable of feeling remorse for his actions and of learning how to be a better person. He just never had the proper tools or guidance to be able to grow into the person that he, deep down, wanted to be.

That, and he didn’t have the same motivation before as he suddenly did when you and Eijirou stepped into his life. You pushed him to be better, just by being yourselves. Katsuki was inspired by you from the moment he met you. The way you carried yourselves and the way you managed to handle him and all that came with being his friend. It only made him respect you more. And as he inevitably began to fall for you, he felt the desire to be a better person for you grow even stronger. He wanted to prove to you that he was worth keeping around, even if he wasn’t always “the best” at everything. The last thing he wanted was to lose you over his problematic ways.

To his luck, you and Eijirou were some of the most tolerant people he had ever met. That didn’t mean you never called him out on his shit, though. Katsuki deeply valued you for that. He had grown to be more open and accepting of critical feedback, specifically if it came from you and Eijirou. How could he become a great hero, never mind a great man, if he refused any and all feedback that wasn’t positive?

That said, it still wasn’t easy for him to so easily accept when he was wrong. And it was even more difficult for him to push past his pride enough to apologize for it. But all it took was one look from you or Eijirou to make him give in and do just that. How you managed to gain such power over him, he’d never understand. If he wasn’t so damn in love with you, he’d hate you for it.

He still hated you for it. But in a “fuck you for making me love you so much” kind of way.

If it wasn't for his internal commitment to be a better person—one that you could be proud to know—he would have given into his selfish urges, stolen your hearts, and marked his claim on them a long time ago.

Katsuki had quickly come to learn that being a good person sucks.

“Oh, Eiji texted. He said he’ll be here soon! I invited him. Figured you wouldn’t mind. He said he needs all the help he can get for this upcoming exam,” you said as you began typing a message back to him.

“Fucking hell.”

“Huh?”

You looked up at Katsuki after hearing him grumble something unintelligible under his breath. His eyes met yours for only a brief moment before he averted his gaze, gesturing to the open books in front of you.

“Nothing. Get back to studying! Do you wanna pass that exam, or what?”

You threw your head back as you groaned. “Can’t we just take a little break? Eiji’s not even here yet and we have so much time left to work on this!”

Katsuki pointed his pen at you. “You might have time, but I don’t. You’re lucky I’m even using my spare time to help you idiots with this!”

You rolled your eyes. “You wanted to study for this test too. And you’re the one always preaching about how it’s important to take breaks!”

Before he could respond, you shut your book and looked at him inquisitively.

“So…what were you thinking about before? You looked…more annoyed than usual. Am I annoying you?”

“What the hell do you mean? I don’t look like anything!”

He could see you trying to stifle a laugh, though behind it was a glint of concern in your eyes.

“You look like something is really bothering you, is all.”

“Yeah. You are! Shut up and get back to work,” he growled, though you felt no real malice behind it. You had quickly learned long ago not to take the hotheaded blonde’s rude attitude seriously, often times finding it to be more of a protective shield than anything else.

“Okay, whatever you say,” you said, holding your hands up defensively with a slightly amused smirk on your face. Katsuki huffed in response as he looked away.

Giggling at his strange, yet all too familiar behavior, you opened your textbook again, only to be distracted less than a minute later by another ding from your phone. Katsuki could already tell it was another text from Eijirou by the way you smiled at your screen when you read it. You only ever smiled like that when reading the redhead’s messages, much to Katsuki’s chagrin.

“Fuck you,” Katsuki thought as he stared at you from across the table, frustration and hurt bubbling within his chest.

The truth was, you had the strange ability to make his heart flutter and his stomach do flips and his hands sweaty and fill his brain with so many thoughts of you, it couldn’t focus on anything else. You did all this just by existing as your stupidly beautiful, perfect self.

You even made him feel this way when you looked your “worst”. Beaten up after a bad fight, sleep deprived with bags under your eyes, after—very ungracefully—shoving a giant serving of food into your mouth, just waking up with messy hair and crusty eyes and morning breath, sick with snot constantly leaking out of your nose. All of this and he was still head over heels, swooning over you like a fool. And dammit, did it piss him off.

Even worse, he knew you had feelings for your redheaded friend and not him. He couldn’t blame you for this. He also found himself feeling similarly towards Eijirou, as he did you. He was a damn lovable idiot. A good guy, all around. The kind of man Katsuki wished he could be more like.

He couldn’t blame Eijirou for loving you either. As far as Katsuki was concerned, how could anyone not fall for either of you?

Katsuki loved your entire personality -even the parts that frustrated him most. Especially those parts. On top of that, you were absolutely gorgeous. When he begrudgingly thought of you and Eijirou together, without him, he couldn’t deny that the two of you would make an amazing couple—looks-wise and personality-wise.

It infuriated him to no end. He wanted to hate you both, push you away, relocate somewhere far away so that he’d no longer have to bear the pain of seeing the two of you flirting together, holding hands, laughing at each other’s jokes, hugging one another, and inevitably doing all the things that couples do. All the things that Katsuki wanted so desperately to do with you both.

But he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried. There was no way he could bring himself to not only truly hate you, but to go on living life without you both. He would likely never admit it, but you had become so interwoven in his life and his heart, that an existence without you just seemed so bleak and empty.

So, as much as it pained him to sit through hangouts and study sessions and the like, all while bearing witness to how close, how touchy, how obviously in love, you and Eijirou were with one another and not him, he chose to stick around and keep his mouth shut. He made a solemn promise to himself not to utter a word about his feelings to either of you, ever.

For once, he saw exactly what he wanted, right in front of him, and he chose not to take it. He chose not to ruin whatever closeness he did have with the two of you. But more importantly, he chose not to ruin you and Eijirou’s chances at finding the happiness that you both deserved, far more than he did.

It was the most selfless thing he’d ever done. And it was the hardest thing he’d ever done too. He felt his heart break every time he saw the affectionate way you treated one another, but he bit his tongue. He tried to shove his feelings down deeper and deeper, but they kept coming back up, tightening around his throat like a noose until he choked.

The truth became quite apparent to him at one point. Loving you both from afar would be his undoing. And maybe he deserved it? Maybe this was his punishment for being an asshole and tearing others down for his own benefit for all those years.

He’d take his punishment. Just so long as he could continue to know you, even if he wanted to know you so much more.

God, he fucking loved hated you.

After the previous day’s study session, Katsuki needed a break from the two of you. He planned to spend most of the day training and holed up in his dorm, just to avoid you both as much as possible; to set his mind straight and get his feelings back where they belonged—locked away in a dark unlabeled box in his mind, along with all of his other unwanted thoughts and feelings. He was starting to lose his composure around you, and when that happened, he always tried to stay out of your way for a few days until he was “fine” again.

“Fine” had lost all its meaning months ago, and yet, he found himself saying it all too often.

“You okay, Kats? You’re not really on your A game today,” you said as you walked over to help him off the ground for the second time that day.

Katsuki scoffed, a low growl brewing in his throat as he spoke. “I’m fuckin’ fine. Wasn’t planning on having you idiots around, distracting me.”

You and Eijirou seemed to have the same idea about working out and training that day. Katsuki ran into you both on his way to the gym. Almost turned around and booked it back to the dorms, but you happened to see him and waved him over to join you. Both of you smiled happily as you greeted him. It pissed him off so much, but he couldn’t say no to you when you both looked so damn cute, asking him to join you with those sharp teeth and pretty eyes sparkling as you looked up at him.

He wanted to curse you both out. Tell you to fuck off and leave him alone.

Get out of his fucking head, already! Stop torturing him with those fucking adorable smiles that made his heart clench in his chest! Stop being so fucking nice to him!

But he bit his tongue, salvaged whatever little composure and willpower he had left, and joined you both to train.

And he fucking sucked the whole time. It only added to his inner turmoil even more. He was too distracted. Too focused on you and Eijirou and the way you both looked so fucking good when you were focused, when you had sweat dripping down your skin, when you were looking at him with those determined eyes while sparring, when you didn’t hold back against him.

At least the two of you were more focused on him than each other, at the moment. Katsuki had insisted that you both took turns going against him until he kicked both of your asses. He was on round three, at this point. He had lost to you both a total of three times in a row.

He knew that you and Eijirou were starting to question his strange behavior lately. He practically stormed out of his own dorm the day prior during your study session together. He didn’t say a word. Just got up and left.

Why?

Because you and Eijirou. That’s why.

When he came back, things were awkward as the two of you tried to ask him about it. He didn’t look at either of you when he told you to leave, not wanting you to see his red, glossy eyes.

It was embarrassing, to feel this weak.

Eijirou knocked on his door later that evening to talk to him. He didn’t answer.

Now the two of you were obviously trying to pretend that everything was normal, for his sake, trying to gently coax whatever was bothering him out of his system in hopes that he’d come around and get out of whatever shitty headspace he was in. You were being good friends, like usual. Always so attentive and thoughtful and caring.

He wanted to scream.

This time, he managed to defeat Eijirou, but he could tell his moves were slightly slower. He was going fucking easy on him. The redhead giving him a pity win only managed to send Katsuki over the edge.

By the time it was your turn, he wasn’t even fully present in his body anymore. All he was focused on was winning one round. Just one solid win was all he needed.

He moved on autopilot, blocking and countering all your attacks swiftly as they came. Thankfully, you weren’t holding back. For a moment, he felt like he was finally winning at something. The suffocating feelings began to dissipate as the adrenaline high began to kick in, filling him with a sense of power and control.

Until you called for a pause.

“What the fuck! Why?!” he barked, smoke wafting off of his hot hands.

Eijirou held a hand out at him, signaling him to back off as he ran towards you. “Chill the fuck out man, they're hurt!”

“Huh?”

It was only then that he realized you were holding your weight on one leg, struggling to keep yourself balanced as you tried to stand on your own. Eijirou was quick to catch you before you fell.

You had an ugly burn on your leg from one of his explosions. He thought he had released it far enough away from you to dodge it. He was clearly wrong.

Katsuki’s head was fuzzy as he stared at you, frozen in place. Eijirou inspected your wound, offering you sweet words of comfort and praise as he carefully wrapped it with gauze.

Damn it.

Katsuki could barely breathe now. The noose growing tight around his throat again.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to Recovery Girl.” Eijirou lifted you up into his arms with ease, carrying you out of sight.

Your little whimper of pain shot straight through his heart.

Fuck.

“Come on, Katsuki!” Eijirou called out to him, slight urgency in his voice.

Katsuki remained frozen where he stood, hands clenched and chest heaving as he tried to fight back the tears that were building in his eyes. A million thoughts and feelings swirled inside of him, threatening to burst through the seams of his being.

“Kats?” Your voice sounded distant. It echoed in the background of his mind before it fully reached him.

“Go on without me,” was all he could say. He cringed at the way his voice wavered when he said it.

“Come on, man. You should-”

“Go!” Katsuki yelled, interrupting Eijirou’s attempt to change his mind.

All he heard after that was the sound of Eijirou’s footsteps as they faded away.

You and Eijirou had tried to reach out to Katsuki for four days. He somehow managed to avoid the two of you at every turn. He mostly stayed locked up in his dorm when school wasn’t in session. All calls went to voicemail. All texts left on read.

The two of you even went as far as to try to get Sero or Mina to check in on him. Denki offered to give it a shot, but you declined. You both knew he’d probably only aggravate him more, despite his best intentions.

Every plan of yours failed.

At one point, you couldn’t take it anymore and ended up crying to sleep in Eijirou’s arms one night. He shed a few tears himself as he tried to soothe your sadness and worry; all the while, he was struggling just as much.

You both missed your best friend. And despite your reassuring comments to each other that he would come back soon, that he just needed some space, you were both starting to crumble under the fear that maybe he wouldn’t. He had been acting strange lately, even before the most recent event occurred.

What if you had upset him? What if he was tired of being your friend? What if you were holding him back somehow?

Your thoughts spun in circles in your mind until you began to feel dizzy and sick to your stomach. After tossing and turning for hours that night, you headed down to the kitchen to make yourself some tea in hopes that it’d finally help you quiet your mind enough to allow you to get some much-needed sleep.

Thankfully, it did, because by the time Katsuki walked into the room to get some water after he couldn’t sleep, you were passed out with your head on the table, your hair sprawled out messily around you and your half-empty mug of cold tea.

You looked beautiful.

“Fuck you,” Katsuki cursed you in his head as he stared down at your hunched over, sleeping form.

The common room was so quiet this late at night, he could clearly hear your little breaths with every rise and fall of your chest. He spotted drool slightly dripping out of one side of your parted lips.

The sight made his heart flutter.

On your feet, he spotted those cute fluffy bunny slippers that him and Eijirou picked out for you one day at the mall. He remembered that day with fondness, how you all worked together in teams to find a pair of slippers for each other. In the end, Eijriou was happy to receive shark slippers and Katsuki was surprised with Grumpy Cat slippers. He could still hear both of your laughs as you made a comment about how his face matched his slippers perfectly.

Dammit, he missed your laughs so much.

He huffed in a mixture of sadness and frustration as he turned to walk away, only to stop himself in his tracks after a few steps. He took one look back at you over his shoulder before sighing in defeat.

Walking closer, he worked up the courage to wake you and subsequently face you for the first time in four days. What came out was much more aggressive than he intended.

“Oi!”

You jumped and his heart clenched slightly. He bit the inside of his cheek as you looked up at him, sleepy and confused.

“Ka’ski?” your sweet voice, thick with sleep, filled his ears. He clenched his fists, the bitter taste of blood filling his mouth.

“Go to your dorm. You’re gonna end up with a fucked up neck and back sleeping like that, idiot.”

He began to walk away after that, heading towards the elevator at the end of the room. He didn’t get far, though. The unpleasant screech of a chair on the hard floor, followed by the far more pleasant feeling of your hand wrapped around his wrist stopped him right in his tracks.

“Wait!”

“Go to bed, Y/N,” Katsuki warned. The last thing he wanted was to have whatever conversation you were attempting to start with him.

“No. I can’t sleep, anyway. I just keep worrying about you. Please. Just tell me what’s wrong and what I can do to fix it,” you implored.

Katsuki was tense under your grip, but he didn’t try to pull away, even as he let out a loud huff of frustration.

“Just fuck off, okay? There’s nothing you can do.”

You stared at the back of his head with so much pain and sadness in your eyes. Katsuki could feel your gaze on him. He knew better than to look back at you. That look alone would break his heart more than anything else could.

“I won’t ever stop trying, Katsuki. And neither will Eiji. We care about you so much. We miss you so badly. Please, just talk to me. If not me, then Eiji.” Your voice was starting to waver slightly as you spoke. Katsuki hated himself for being the reason behind your sadness and tears.

Even still, he couldn’t let you in on this. Neither you, nor Eijirou, could know. He just needed more time to sort out his feelings and lock them away, where they belonged. But after four days, he was still struggling to get himself back in order. All of it was starting to consume him, distract him, make him perform badly as a student and a hero in training. That part only encouraged him to avoid the two of you even more. He wasn’t going to let stupid feelings ruin everything he had worked so hard for.

His silence only pushed you to speak again.

“Katsuki?”

“No.” He pulled away from your grip, but you reached out to grab him again.

“Katsuki, please!”

He spun around to face you, eyes brimming with tears as he yelled in your face.

“What?! You just can't leave shit alone, can you?! Just fuck off, already!”

You looked at him with heartbroken eyes, biting your lower lip to suppress its quivering as tears began to fall down your face.

Fuck.

Katsuki inhaled sharply as his broken and battered heart shattered to pieces in his chest. Both of you were silent as you stared at one another, unsure of how to progress the conversation without breaking into a fit of tears.

“Fuck, I’m…I’m sorry,” Katsuki mumbled, voice just audible as he looked down at the ground between you. “Just leave me alone, okay? You and Ei are better off without me, anyway.”

He pulled away from your grip and this time, you didn’t reach for him again. However, your voice still followed him as he walked further away from you.

“How could you say that? You mean the world to us, Kats! We’re fucking lost without you! We need you. If this is about the other day, just forget about it. I’m fine. All is forgiven-”

“It’s not just about that.” He stopped in his tracks once more, back facing you.

“Then what is it about? Are you mad at me or Eijirou?”

Katsuki shook his head. Your confusion and desperation drew you closer to him. His feet remained glued to the floor.

“You’re not mad?”

“I-“ Katsuki stopped himself. “Just fuck off, Y/N. I’m not going to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Katsuki!”

"BECAUSE I- ugh!" he growled, "because it would be selfish of me to tell you! It’d only make things worse! I'm trying to be...fucking better than that."

You opened your mouth to speak, but he continued.

“It was selfish of me to stick around as long as I did. I should’ve just left the two of you be a long time ago. I thought I could-” He sighed. “Never mind. Point is, it’s gone too far. You even got hurt because of my stupid bullshit.”

“What has gone too far? Katsuki, stop talking like this. You’re not going anywhere. Let’s go wake Eiji and we’ll talk this out.” There was a clear presence of fear in your tone as you reached out to grab his left hand that was clenched in a tight fist at his side.

He ripped himself away from you. “No. This conversation is over.”

The way he spoke, his voice quiet, lacking any of his usual attitude, made your stomach twist in knots. He sounded so sad, so weak, completely defeated. It was completely unlike him, and it scared the shit out of you.

“I give you full permission to be selfish! Just fucking look at me! Tell me what’s wrong!” you begged.

At this point, you were seconds away from getting on your knees just to get his attention, or at the very least, pity. You couldn’t let him walk out of this room. You knew the chances of getting him to open up to you again after this were slim to none. This was it. You had to fight harder; show him you weren’t giving up on him, no matter how hard he pushed you away.

Katsuki was silent, but you could see the way his hands trembled at his sides; his head hung low, his chest heaving. You waited with bated breath behind him, praying he wouldn’t walk away.

Surprisingly, after what felt like a millennium, he turned to face you, his head still facing the floor.

You were scared to make the wrong move, as if you were faced with a small, wounded animal that could scurry off if you so much as breathed the wrong way.

“Kats?” you whispered softly. “It’s okay.”

He shook his head. “No. It’s not.”

“Why do you say that? Katsuki, look at me.” You stepped forward and raised your hand, gently lifting his chin up so you could finally meet his eyes. What you saw broke your heart.

Red eyes glossed over with tears, lower lip quivering as he tried and failed to stifle the emotions that seemed to overtake him. Your eyes only filled with more tears of your own as you stared back at him sadly.

“I don’t want to see you happy without me,” he whispered, breaking the silence between the two of you.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“I want to be the reason you are happy. I want to give you everything you deserve and more. Both of you.”

“Katsuki…You do make us happy. If anything, we are the least happy when you’re not around,” you said, fingers tracing down his wrist and giving his hand a small squeeze once he allowed you to grasp it. He only seemed to grow more upset at this as he looked down at your interlocked hands.

“But you don’t want me, you want each other.”

“What are you talking about? Of course, we wa-” You froze as realization hit you. “Wait…”

Katsuki made a tsk sound. "Looks like you finally got it. Took you long enough."

You blinked at him. "I- Kats, if you have something to tell me, you better say it now."

"I think you know. Why don't you tell me?"

He was too scared to say it and you knew it.

"Katsuki-"

"Tell me."

You sighed, suddenly growing nervous as you began to second-guess if what you were about to say was actually correct. Katsuki's hold on your hand grew tighter as he awaited your answer. If he wasn't so focused on what you were about to say, he'd be embarrassed about the growing dampness between your palms.

"I...do you....do you have...feelings....for me and Eiji?"

Katsuki’s silence was all the confirmation you needed. You let out a breath of relief.

“Kats-”

“Do you?” he asked, before clarifying. “Have feelings for me? If the answer is ‘no’, say it now and we’ll never speak about it again.”

You stepped closer to him, slippers touching his as you looked at him with soft eyes.

"What if the answer is ‘yes’?" you whispered.

For a moment, you both exchanged glances between eyes and lips, your hearts racing as you awaited the other’s move.

Finally, Katsuki spoke.

"Do I still have permission to be selfish?"

You nodded, and before you knew it, his hands were on either side of your face, and his lips were crashing against yours.

He pushed you against the nearby wall, never breaking his lips from yours, as he kissed you hungrily, desperately, lovingly. You ran your fingernails up the nape of his neck, weaving your fingers through his messy blond locks and earning a groan from him as he pulled you closer by your hips and deepened the kiss even more.

By the time he came up for air, you were both panting heavily. His grip on your hips didn’t loosen and neither did yours around his neck as you stared at each other speechlessly.

After a moment, your lips formed into a smile.

“We’ve been wanting to tell you,” you confessed.

Katsuki’s soft smile quickly faded into a bewildered frown. “Hah?”

“Eijirou and I, we want you, Katsuki. As far more than a friend.”

Katsuki visibly stopped breathing for a brief moment. You nervously continued to speak.

“But there’s no pressure or anything! We just wanted to talk to you about how we feel, not just for each other, but for you. Every time we’d try, you stormed off, or were clearly out of it, so we were too nervous to bring it up.”

“How long?”

Now it was your turn to look confused.

“What?”

“How long have you and Eijirou been talking about this?”

“Well, we confessed to each other almost two weeks ago-”

“Two weeks?! Fuck you!” he cursed.

You gasped. “Hey! Watch it, mister!”

“Fuck you for ruining my life by making me love you so goddamn much! And fuck both of you for not telling me sooner and letting me suffer! Do you have any idea how painful it has been watching the two of you idiots and your stupid cutesy, touchy, flirty bullshit, every single day?” he ranted, obviously frustrated, but not truly directed at you.

“Aw, Kats…We didn’t realize-”

“’Course you didn’t! You were too wrapped up in each other! I always thought you’d never return my feelings because it was obvious you two were obsessed with each other.”

This time, he sounded sad. You cupped his face with your hands, gently running your thumbs over his soft cheeks.

“We have always been obsessed with you too, Kats. It’s not that we didn’t want to be that way with you too. We were just never quite sure about your feelings for us and we didn’t want to cross any lines or make you uncomfortable,” you explained.

He let out a sigh, eyes closing as he relaxed into your touch.

“We should talk with Ei tomorrow,” you said.

He nodded in agreement, soaking up the feeling of your touch; something he had dreamed of and desperately craved for so long. Finally, his dreams were coming true. He was melting between the palms of your hands, and he couldn't have been happier about it.

Now that he'd had a taste, he'd be damned if he were to ever let you go.

“You’re mine now. Got it?” he said, his hands slightly squeezing your hips as he looked into your eyes.

You smirked amusingly at him. “Woah there, don’t get too selfish now. You gotta share.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. I don't mind sharing. So long as it's with Shitty Hair, I can manage. That doesn’t mean you’re not mine, though!”

You giggled, pulling him in for another kiss, to which he happily obliged. This time, he kissed you back tenderly, savoring every second of your soft lips on his. You melted into him completely, allowing him to pull you even closer against him, his strong arms keeping you locked in place.

You placed a hand on his chest at one point, signaling that you needed air. He grunted before reluctantly pulling away.

He pressed his forehead against yours, smirking at the way you grew visibly flustered under his intensely loving gaze.

“It’s late. W-We should get to bed.”

He hummed in response. “Fine.”

Taking your hand, he walked you over to the elevator across the room, both of you still silently processing all that had just happened until you finally reached the large metal doorway.

You stepped inside the elevator, bidding him goodnight.

“Night,” he said, turning around and beginning to walk away.

His feet came to a halt when he felt a sudden, familiar urge take over him, and this time, he didn’t fight it. Before he knew it, he had his arm between the metal doors, forcing them to reopen.

“Kats-”

He interrupted you by crashing his lips against yours once more, cradling your face in his hands as he kissed you with everything he had. Every skipped beat of his heart, every pang in his stomach, every moment of longing, every loving thought he’d ever had of you flashed through his mind. For once, he wasn’t concerned about ruining anything, of hurting anyone, of losing you. All he cared about was satisfying the insufferable itch of longing and desire he’d carried for you all this time.

Finally, the noose was gone, the bad feelings dissipating while the others became one with his being. He could breathe again.

When he pulled away, he was smiling. He was happy.

And you were too. Happy because of him. Happy with him.

“You should be selfish more often,” you said, still trying to catch your breath.

Katsuki stopped the doors from closing in on him, his eyes still locked on you as he let out a chuckle.

“That’s a first. Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.”

He backed out of the elevator, finally allowing the doors to close. You stared at him as heat rushed to your face, capturing a glimpse of his growing smirk until he was no longer in sight.

Katsuki Bakugou was a selfish man.

And oh, did you love every bit of him.

*The next day*

"Mannn...I can't believe you guys kissed for the first time and I wasn't even there for it!" Eijirou whined, an adorable pout on his face as he looked between the two of you.

"Are you jealous, Eiji?" you teased, lightly nudging him with your elbow.

"Yes! Do you know how long I've been waiting to kiss you both? It's been torture holding out from kissing you while waiting for Katsuki to get on board, and now I've come to find out that you two were making out for the first time without me?!"

Katsuki shrugged, nodding towards you. "They gave me permission. Blame them."

Eijirou scoffed. "I sure hope they did!"

"He means, I gave him permission to be selfish. I didn't know he was going to kiss me when I said that," you clarified.

"Oh, you knew, and you sure as hell didn't stop me."

"Well, of course not!" you said.

Katsuki smirked at you and you felt heat rush to your face. A brief knowing look was shared between the two of you as you recalled the events of the previous night.

Eijirou watched your silent interaction, his pout increasing as he whined. "I wanna kiss you both too!"

"You snooze, you lose," Katsuki said, breaking his stare away from you and taking a sip of his coffee.

Eijirou narrowed his eyes at him. "Scratch that. I definitely don't wanna kiss you right now."

"Hey!" Katsuki barked, looking at the redhead offendedly.

You giggled at them both, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks.

"Both of you, hush. We have plenty of time for kissing later. Now, let's get to work! We can't fail this exam!"

Katsuki rolled his eyes, trying to fight off the growing redness on his cheeks. "Now look who's all ready to study, for once."

"Well, we gotta make sure we all pass! I'm not being left in the dust by the two of you just because of one stupid failed exam!" you said.

Eijirou’s eyes softened as he looked at you. "Aw, hun, we would never."

Katsuki nodded in agreement. "Damn straight. I'll make sure both of you idiots pass, even if I have to jam all the information into your heads myself."

"That always works with me! Right, Kats?" Eijirou flashed his sharp toothy smile.

Katsuki hummed, growing even more flustered over how cute the redhead looked when he smiled at him like that. Thankfully, you managed to draw the attention away from him long enough for him to hide his fond smile. He couldn't let either of you know just how soft he was for you, yet.

A giggle fell past your lips as you spoke. "Good for you, Eiji. But I'd like to refrain from developing a concussion the day before the exam."

Katsuki’s attention moved back to you, a cocky smirk growing on his face. "I could always kiss the information into you."

Eijirou gasped. "What?! No fair!"

"Both of you, be quiet and focus! Or no kisses at all!”

. . .

That shut them right up.

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You honestly couldn’t blame her for that impression, especially since, to your luck, the pair of Dynamight underwear was sitting right on top of the pile on the cart (you were slightly reconsidering that purchase… but also absolutely refusing to let some random hoe walk around with your boyfriend’s face on her underwear instead of you). The fabric was shamelessly printed with his scowling face and tiny explosion graphics everywhere, and right across the front, in jagged bold lettering, was the phrase: EXPLODE THIS PUSSY!

The cashier picked it up between two fingers like it might detonate.

“Big fan?” she asked carefully.

You coughed. “Something like that.”

That was technically true.

What she didn’t know was that the great pro hero Dynamight, Bakugo Katsuki himself, was your boyfriend. The same man who would absolutely lose his mind if he found out you had just spent what could qualify as rent money on merchandise featuring his own scowling face.

Did that justify what you had just purchased?

Absolutely not.

Did it stop you?

Also absolutely not.

By the time you stepped out of the store, arms trembling under the weight of seven dangerously overfilled bags, you felt exhausted. The glossy handles had already carved angry dents into your fingers by the time you reached the door of your shared apartment, and you had to shoulder it open, shuffle inside, and kick it shut behind you like some criminal.

You lowered the bags to the floor with an exhale, flexing your aching hands while the blood slowly crept back into your fingertips.

That was when you heard it; the steady rush of water from the kitchen sink. You went completely still.

Shit, shit, shit.

Katsuki was not supposed to be home for at least another hour. He had patrol, paperwork, and an agency debrief he had bitched about all morning over breakfast. So what the hell was he doing back so early?

You had just crouched to grab the bags and stage a frantic, last-second evidence disposal when heavy footsteps sounded against the tile.

And then he appeared.

Your boyfriend stepped into the living room like a fucking Greek god who’d escaped Olympus and wound up in Japan. His white tank clung to every ridge of muscle, stretched tight when he lifted an arm to drag a towel through his damp hair, biceps flexing hard enough to make you want to reach out and squeeze (you were already having flashbacks of drooling on his biceps as he fucked into you). 

His grey sweatpants sat low on his hips, making him look even more domestic, but the way they hugged his ass and thighs was criminal (fucking illegal, probably should be banned from wearing them).

He glanced at you first, then at the mountain of bags scattered across the floor. “You tryin’ to bankrupt yourself or somethin’?” he muttered, tossing the towel over his shoulder as he stepped closer. “What’s all this crap?”

“Oh! Hi, ’Suki. Didn’t think you’d be home so early today,” you said nervously, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Hey, brat,” he mumbled, pacing closer. “Got done early since a bunch of extras finished the work I had, and my patrol got pushed back. Shitty timin’, but whatever.”

You bent slightly, trying to nudge one of the bags behind your leg, hoping to hide it while he was distracted. That didn’t last long. His red eyes caught the movement immediately. “What’s that you got there, baby?” he asked, voice low, dangerous.

“Uh… nothing. Just… shopping,” you muttered, heart hammering.

His gaze snapped to the branded handles peeking out from the bags, and his smirk widened. He took a step closer, the heat from his body radiating at you. “Uh huh,” he said, voice teasing but edged with suspicion. “You’re sweatin’. Why’re you sweatin’?”

“I’m not sweating!” you lied, trying not to laugh nervously.

“You are,” he countered, leaning down slightly, eyes flicking to the bright orange lettering on one bag. Dynamight Official Merch. His grin turned wicked. “What, you got some sex toy with my face on it tucked in there or somethin’?”

“Katsuki!”

He raised a brow, clearly entertained now, and nudged one of the bags with his foot. “Well. Do ya?”

You lunged for the handles of the bags at the exact same time he did, and the sudden tug-of-war froze you both, his smirk widening slowly, dangerously. “The hell’d you buy, you crazy woman!”

“It’s nothing, just some random stuff from a gift shop.” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, but your hands were shaking from nerves.

“It’s not nothing if you look like you just robbed a damn bank,” he shot back, glaring, but the corner of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to laugh.

You tightened your grip on the bags. “Stop snooping through my bags!”

“Yeah, yeah. Bags from my merch store, eh?” he muttered. His fingers hooked into one of the handles and with effortless strength, he yanked a bag out of your grasp. You squealed somewhere between a shriek and a plea.

“Katsuki! Don’t you dare!”

He ignored you completely, reaching inside like a predator examining prey. First came the teddy bear—spiky blond felt hair, tiny stitched explosions, an aggressively embroidered scowl.

You watched, horrified, as his eyes tracked every stitch.

“The hell did you buy this for? It’s ugly as fuck,” he says flatly, staring at the plush version of his own scowling face like it personally offended him, though there’s a faint twitch in his brow that gives away how thrown he actually is.

“It was limited edition,” you shoot back, clutching one of the remaining bags to your chest like that might somehow protect the rest of your purchases from his judgment.

He didn’t respond. He just dove back in and, god help you, pulled out the slippers next.

You wanted to laugh but instead squeaked, horrified and embarrassed all at once. The fluffy monstrosities were shaped like him—his face, his body, little embroidered explosions on the top—and holy shit, were they huge.

He holds one up between two fingers like it’s evidence in a crime scene. “The fuck are these.”

“House slippers,” you mumble, heat climbing up your neck.

He stares at them for another long second, then at you. “Absolutely not.”

Before you can process that tone, he turns toward the kitchen. “No way in hell you’re walkin’ around this apartment with my damn face under your feet.”

“Katsuki, don’t—”

“I’m throwin’ these out.”

Your heart actually drops. “Noo!”

You lunge after him as he heads toward the trash, holding the slippers high above his head with one hand like it’s nothing. Which, unfortunately, it isn’t for him. “Give them back!”

He steps out of reach easily, arm extended, red eyes gleaming with mean amusement. “Jump for ’em.”

“You’re such an ass!”

He huffs a laugh. “You spent how much on this shit?”

“That’s not the point, give me—” You grab at his wrist and miss, nearly stumbling into him. “Give me my Bakugos back!”

“…Your what?!”

You stop too, realizing what just came out of your mouth, but it’s too late. He’s staring down at you like you’re some madwoman.

“My Bakugos,” you repeat stubbornly, reaching up and finally yanking the slippers from his loosened grip. “That’s what they’re called. They’re limited edition merchandise which I stood in line for forty minutes for. So you better not throw them away, Katsuki Bakugo!” you yell out his full name.

“So you stood in line for forty damn minutes just to buy my face and stomp all over it around the house.” His eyes flick back to yours, red and unimpressed but way too amused. “Yeah, I’m real fuckin’ flattered, sweetheart.”

You clutch the slippers tighter to your chest. “You’re just mad because they sold out before you could get a pair.”

“Why the hell would I buy slippers shaped like my own damn face? The fuck do I look like, some narcissistic extra?”

“You’re acting like all that money spent on them doesn’t go straight to your bank account anyway,” you shoot back without missing a beat.

He clicks his tongue and steps in close enough that your back nearly bumps the wall. His hand comes up, big and warm, fingers pressing into your cheeks until your lips purse.

“Y’know…” he mutters, squinting down at you. “I bust my ass every day, nearly blow my arms off on patrol, deal with idiot reporters, and my girl’s out here droppin’ thousands on plushies and ugly-ass slippers instead of just usin’ the real thing.”

You clutch the slippers tighter, refusing to back down. “Yeah, but I bought the merch so no weird fans can hoard it. I’m protecting your brand, 'Suki! Wouldn’t want the limited edition Bakugos ending up with some psycho.” you shoot back in an all too sassy manner, as you cross your arms over the slippers, now pouting. “I should be the only one allowed to stomp on your face since I’m clearly your most supportive fan.”

His brows twitch, somewhere between scandalized and entertained. “So you're my biggest fan, huh?”

You nod without an ounce of shame.

“Yeah,” you say, softer but no less certain. “Obviously. I’m committed to supporting your brand and hero agency.”

“You’re such a damn nerd,” he says, shaking his head as he nudges one of the merch bags with his foot. “Next time you wanna waste that much money, just tell me. I’ll give you free merch.”

You glance down at the slippers tucked against your chest. “So you’re signing the Bakugos?”

“The hell do I look like, a meet-and-greet booth?” he mutters. “Ehh… I’ll think ab—”

He cuts himself off mid sentence, eyes snagging on one of the glossy orange bags by your feet.

His expression shifts. “…What the fuck is that.”

Before you can even process what he’s looking at, he’s already moving, prying the unknown item from the bag. “Katsuki, don’t—”

Too late.

He reaches into the bag and pulls out a bright orange scrap of fabric that barely qualifies as underwear, more string than thong, and the moment his eyes drop to the bold lettering stretched across the front, he goes completely still.

You can feel your soul leave your body (yeah, might as well just die right now out of humiliation).

He stares at it. Then he bursts out laughing.

Not a scoff, not a chuckle, but a full, loud bark of laughter that has his shoulders shaking. “No fuckin’ way.”

You lunge for it. “Give that back!”

He lifts it higher, out of reach, red eyes sparkling with something dangerous and amused. “‘Explode this pussy’ huh?”

“It was on top of the cart by accident!”

“Yeah? Accidentally walked to the register too?” he shoots back, still grinning. He stretches the fabric between his fingers, reading it again, then looks at you with a slow, wicked smirk. “How about we put these to the test, yeah?”

Your brain short circuits.

Before you can process, he’s on you, lips crashing into the side of your neck, teeth grazing, tongue teasing just enough to make you gasp. One hand slips under your shirt, fingers hissing over your skin, teasing your clit through your panties (god, you’re already soaked through somehow).

You whimper, fingers curling against his bicep as he growls, “Look at this, all wet and soft for me… my pretty fuckin’ girl.”

The other hand still holds the thong up like a trophy, dangling it in front of your face. “Y’know, since you’re so desperate for an autograph,” he growls, voice dropping lower, “I can sign those panties too… right across the front.” he murmurs, teeth grazing your ear, lips ghosting your jaw, fingers hovering, teasing, cock-teasing, making every nerve scream.

He sucks a mark into your neck while his fingers draw slow, teasing circles over your clit.

“Y-yeah… p-please,” you gasp.

“Yeah,” he mutters, sharp, amused, eyes glinting with wicked delight. “They’d be real fuckin’ limited edition.”

By the end of the night, your ass was stamped with marks only he could leave. Afterall, you were his biggest fan.

my hero academia masterlist

you rubbed his back and brushed his hair from his forehead when he threw up into the toilet, and every time he drunkenly mumbled "i won, right... i beat that idiot, i won, it was me..." you reassured him in the same calm, but tired voice: "yes, bakugou, you did." which eased him in a way that he does Not want to dwell on

you tucked him into bed carefully and stayed that entire night just to keep an eye on him

the hangover he woke up with was fucking crazy too. so 0/10. he's NEVER doing that again

you are sworn to secrecy about that Incident. he made it VERY clear that if ts gets out ur cooked as shit 😭😭

so yea, fuck alc. drinks rarely, absolutely hates the stupidity that comes with it plus it tastes like ass. he becomes designated driver once u guys start going to bars or clubs further off campus (and yes, is so grumpy about it to ur faces lols)

bakugou lowk worries ab you drinking too much, esp since his own experience, but shows it in his own weird way... says some shit like "don't get all bitchy with me when i have 10 ugly ass photos of you throwing up everywhere if you keep drinking like that."

if you do have a little too much, he's got your back like you had his, no question. he never does forget about that, always has a quiet eye on you and will silently return the favor any time he needs to.

study sessions with bakugou can be brutal... his patience is practically non existent and he calls you stupid way too many times to count. but at the end of the day, he's smart as shit and has good advice.

he's a bit nicer to you when studying (by bakugou standards at least) and he doesn't even realize it until kirishima points it out lol (he's dead for that). he's v proud of you himself when you get a good grade on smth he helped with

kirishima is an exercise science/kinesiology major! (bakugou says it's not a real science💔) he likely wants to work in health and fitness, or as a physical therapist! still figuring it out but his heart is in the right place, wants to help people

he's not much of a drinker either. usually gets buzzed, save for the few times he does go all in.

he gets sooo much touchier when he's tipsy. an arm is always around someone, and when you're sitting next to him he's always close enough that you're touching in some way. thigh to thigh, his arm pressing against yours.

also very likely to initiate hugs out of the blue when he's like that, and when i tell you his hugs are just the best... his arms are so strong so warm and all enveloping... aand sometimes he accidentally lifts you off the ground. oops

just bc he's sweet doesn't mean he's tolerant. the first person usually to call out and come in between you and any dude being unmanly at parties or when you're just out and about.

definitely the type to be all "hey... i just wanna say... i love you guys so much, like for real..."

i'm half and half on him being in a frat, like i can kinda see it but also not? unsure.... but if he was he'd be one of the Good Ones

he is definitely a gym bro FS tho. always at the campus gym bright and early every morning with bakugou (his designated gym buddy)

he's the nicest guy there, despite prolly being the most jacked and therefore intimidating looking. i feel like a lot of people are surprised by how genuinely kind and personable he is because he's lowk built like a tank

when you mentioned wanting to get into gym, he obvs goes all in, and eventually the three of you going together becomes routine. i can also see some morning jogs thrown in here and there

kirishima is always down for late night runs to get food - 7/11, local pizza place, ice cream - whatever you're craving. hit him up and he's outside your dorm in 5. you guys usually walk, and if you forget a jacket when it's a particularly chilly night, he does the manly thing & pulls his off to put over your shoulders, giving it to you.

(and when you get back to the dorms after getting your food, he tells you to keep it)

denki was on some electrical engineering major shit, and was actually decent at it, but he hated the work.. so he's business now 😭✌️

he's always playing in everyone's face: "darnnn.. i have to go do THREE coloring sheets tonight instead of two... man business is SO hard!"

he knows exactly what he's doing (rage baiting bakugou, who's taking calc 3)

he is also the frat dude ever. me thinks. not in the bad way! just... it's very evident that he wants game... like bad.....

he strikes me as the type to puff his chest out, give girls his name, and tell em they can say they 'know a brother' to get into parties LMFAOO

lowkey a snapchat warrior too 🫩 that snap score is higher than the avg sorority girls' and he's always sending risky shirtless mirror pics

(someone save him)

beneath all that though, denki's just a guy figuring himself out! he has his vulnerable moments, and i need to make it clear that he's NOT a player or a fuck boy, just a guy who wants someone, y'know? and hey, who doesn't

he definitely becomes more secure in himself as the years go on and while he's still flirty and silly, it's a less to validate himself and more because that's how he is naturally

he's invited to girls night on occasion. he and mina are real close, total gossip buddies, and you're somehow always present for their info dumps. they always Know about what's going on.. and it's very entertaining to see them piece things together.

he lowkey dresses a BIT like a performative male, but it's ok cuz it's him. he's just actually into fashion. (mina and him go thrifting tg!!)

he's brain rotted as FUCK and is always spamming you with his entire fyp smh. but ykw... that's twin bc he will ALWAYS get your references 🥹 his lingo does make bakugou genuinely want to tear him apart tho (bc bkg's so chronically OFFline, like - "what the FUCK does unempluzz even MEAN dunceface?!" )

sero is lowkey undecided on his major... doing gen eds for now but leaning business cuz it's lax

Not much of a drinker imo, i feel like he just doesn't take alc well and prefers getting high anyway

speaking of that he is The Guy if you wanna get smth. always has something? we do not know where he gets his shit from (say's he "knows a guy" all nonchalant and doesn't elaborate) but he has it. usually either smokes or pops an eddie

he's not avid with it, uses it recreationally with friends and to relax and feel good

he's definitely right there with bakugou making sure everyone gets home at the end of the day. he's a chill dude, but not afraid to dryly call out people when they're being weird, so you and the girls are quite safe from unwanted advances when you're out.

i can lowkey envision him being that one dude on campus with a fuck ass skateboard

OH him and denki also are always on those stupid electric scooters titanic style when they have the cash to rent them😭😭 (they eat shit like 3 minutes later)

he's the quiet sort of enabler, totally instigates with denki but is laid back about it

honestly i bet a lotta people have a crush on him... like he's tall, he's funny, he's cute, and he's got that whole stoner thing really going for him... definitely more than one person's campus crush

late night conversations with him while you smoke are always strangely deep & much needed after stressful exam weeks

mina my girl is also undecided U_U" she's tried it all! lowkey forgot ab gen eds and took a whole bunch if electives her first year so she is a liiittle behind... will probably end up either doing interdisciplinary studies or catch up and commit to fashion design, art, or marketing!

she's in tooons of clubs and knows so many people on campus. and i totally see her being that one girl whose fits and makeup are always tea.. she'd be known for being big on fashion

you guys go shopping together when you can (i esp see her being a big thrifter!!) and she'd TOTALLY want to do your makeup and get you all done up if you'd let her ^^

both of u are joint at the HIP when ur drunk (and hey, maybe you've kissed like once when u were reaally gone) but usually you're js holding each other's arms, giggling at everything around you

she backs you up on anything fr. whenever you're having a little jest with the bakugou or denki, she's always supporting your side and instigating on your behalf. says it's girl code

jirou - listen. i am a jirou is in the bakusquad truther ok. she's def majoring in music production, or sound engineering !!

hanging with her is always so chill. i feel like she's the kind of person you can do your own thing with side by side and it's just so calm.

she observes a lot more than she shares, so going to her for advice and grounding conversations is the best choice.

you guys actually have a lot of surprisingly vulnerable conversations, things like insecurities.. your goals.. your worries.

that's a lot from jirou, i wouldn't say she's a totally closed off person but i do think she guards her heart. and the fact that she trusts you enough to have these conversations with you is a testament to your friendship

she hates frats because 1) their music sucks and 2) there's too many sleazy guys there. definitely with bakugou on preferring smaller dorm functions. she drinks a little, but has never gotten past a decent tipsy.

teaming up w her against denki is like, the funniest thing to do. banter is unmatched, and you all know it's just a gag at the end of the day

girls nights with mina and jirou are the beeest, you all stay up past 4 am in your dorm just talking about like.. literally everything. (RA does knock and give you a warning to stay quiet bc mina for the life of her can't stop laughing at some point LMAO)

when bakugou and kirishima finally got an apartment off campus, their place became THE hangout spot me thinks

as a whole group you guys totally have movie nights ^_^

and, yes, in the end the girls choice always wins. denki and sero def want some marvel movie on, kirishima wants everyone to be fair (but also lowkey wants the marvel movie).. bakugou think you're all idiots and that you should just PICK something already. (3 seconds away from crushing the remote in his hands)

but yeah, in the end you guys end up watching mean girls hehe, and denki won't freaking stop quoting it after ("she doesn't even go here!")

may blabs: oh my yappathon. mb chat.. my bakugou and kirishima bias is rlly showing FUCKK. those r my boys ok

his other hand is on your ass, greedily pawing and squeezing, in awe of just how big he is compared to you, watching the recoil from all of his thrusts.

“so fuckin’ wet, ugh. better be quiet, ‘less you want kirishima to know how much of a slut you are.”

but that just makes you yelp, nodding, trying to stifle your cute little noises but knowing it’s useless. it feels too good, you’re too cock drunk, and katsuki was right — you had been wanting this for years .. might as well just let go and enjoy it.

“awwww, I know, I know … pretty thing just wants to be used by both of her big, pro-hero roommates, yeah?” and he’s so fucking smug, honestly hoping that kirishima can see how good both of you look right now. he doesn’t have to wait for long, because poor kirishima can hear everything from where he’s sitting on the couch in the living room. it takes him some time, but he finally gathers the confidence to open your bedroom door.

“you’re talking about me while fucking her?”

“yeah, and?” bakugo says nonchalantly, slowing his pace but still languidly rolling his hips to fuck you, giving kiri a perfect view of how his abs flex, how your cute pussy welcomes him in. kirishima’s thick, half hard cock twitches in his sweatpants.

“kiri …” you whine, looking up at him with angel eyes and the cutest pout, sniffling into the pillows. you want to reach for him, but you’re too fucked out. “hi, pretty. you enjoying yourself? though, bakugo can be so mean, huh? poor thing.” kiri purrs, walking to the bed and lovingly playing with your hair, cradling your face.

“m-mhmm, feels so good, but I want you here.”

“fuckin’ brat. nothin’s good enough for you.” bakugo smacks your ass, just once, then moves his hand to find your clit. it makes you cry out and your legs fold together, but he keeps them in place. “shhh, baby.” kirishima whispers, immediately easing you.

“take her mouth, because I’m not pulling out right now.” katsuki offers ; he’s still a bit jealous, even if he wanted this.

but kiri is sweet, so he kisses you first. “hi, pretty girl,” he lulls, holding your face as you moan into his mouth, letting your tongues slide against each other and savoring your sweet taste.

he makes sure that you’re comfortable as he settles into your pillows and plushies, bakugo eyeing you both carefully, his middle finger still rubbing your clit, making you whine and cry.

kiri slips his shirt off and you could drool just from looking at him, and you literally start salivating once he pushes his sweats down to his muscular thighs, sighing as his gorgeous, massive cock springs free. you whimper kiri’s name and he dotes on you, telling you how beautiful you are, and how you’re doing so good for them. bakugo is a lot to handle, so he is actually impressed.

kiri’s big, maybe even a bit bigger than katsuki. his tip is already blushed and needy, leaking with precum that you eagerly lick off. he moans, already much more vocal than bakugo, which you love.

just like with katsuki, it’s going to take a lot of work to make him fit.

it’s going to be a long night, but you love it.

[ @slutsenpai × @sidesenpai × my masterlist × event masterlist ]

prompt 05 / 15 for my 2k follower event !! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

notes. why aren’t they real why aren’t they real why aren’t they real why aren’t they real why aren’t they real also thanks for the request !! :3

You turn your back to her as you stand in your kitchen in the apartment you both share as roomies and best friends, mostly to keep your eyes off her tits and that damn tank top as a reminder of what you don’t have anymore. You busy yourself by whipping up your iced coffee to go with your breakfast that you still haven’t prepared yet. 

“Well, number one, it’s way too sudden,” you begin to explain as you grab your thermos and fill it with ice from the fridge. “I don’t even have an outfit for something as big as Dynamight’s birthday bash.” 

Mina rolls her golden irises with pinups as black as inkblots as she sits cross-legged on the couch. “It’s tomorrow night, Y/N,” she huffs with a scoffing laugh. “We can go shopping once you get off work today. You get off at 4, right?” 

“Yes,” you reply, and you wish you don’t because that opens the door to the possibility that you’ll be interested in attending Bakugou Katsuki aka Dynamight’s 25th birthday party at his house. His parties have always been extravagant as soon as he became a pro hero, nothing but a show of his money and fame. Last party he had, his whip ended up in his swimming pool. “But it’s still a no. My plan was to come home and sleep like I always do.” 

“Yes,” Mina agrees, her tone accusatory. “Like you always do, and have been doing for two months with your depressed ass.” You whip around with your thermos, mouth agape. “Hey!” you shout defensively. “I am not depressed! And don’t joke about that kinda shit. Mental health is no joke.” 

“You’re right!” Mina agrees. “Which is why you should avoid sinking at the bottom of a depressive hole like you did before by coming out with me and Kiri. You remember what happened when that first month, don’t you?” She stands from the couch, giving you a good look at her toned legs and the very bright, very pink bra she wears underneath her RR tank top. 

Goddammit. Why does she always have to this to you? It’s bad enough you’ve had a crush on the girl since your days at U.A. High with her bubbly and silly self. You thought you had gotten over it once you both got older, but years later, with Mina now being dubbed the pro hero “Pinky” and you in college and juggling your job at a local financial law office, things have only gotten worse. 

You and Mina have been friends for years and you’ve seen her grow into the adorable, kind woman she is today, which makes crushing on her so damn hard. It’s even harder seeing her date your mutual friend since high school Eijoru Kirishima aka “Red Riot”, one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, even after years of hard work and constant threats that would make anyone break. 

And whom you also have been crushing on.

Mind you, your crush on Kiri has not been as long-term as the one you have on Mina, but it is just as strong and just as pestering. But who wouldn’t fall for that big, goofy grin, that deep, raspy voice, and those muscles that you’re guilty of dreaming of touching for yourself? He and Minda dated right after they graduated U.A. High after years of secretly pining for each other and you couldn’t be happier for them…. 

At least, that’s what you try to tell yourself. Though they do their best to include you in their plans and not make you feel like a third wheel, between crushing on both of them and not having your ex to distract you anymore, hanging with them feels like slowly losing your mind. Every time Kiri comes to visit your and Mina’s apartment during his lunch break or on his days off, this results in you usually making an excuse to leave to avoid watching him and Mina be lovey-dovey and dry hump on the couch. 

And activities outside of the apartment? Forget it. You’d rather stay home and drown in ice cream and movies than watch your hopeless crushes giggle with each other at the restaurant table or cuddle in a movie theater. It’s fucking torture! But you know it could never be possible to be with either one of them. 

Realizing you’ve been silent for too long, you answer Mina as you move to get some oat milk creamer out of the fridge. “Yes, I remember, Mina,” you sigh, not wanting to. “That first month after he left me was not my hottest.” Mina clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I still don’t know what you saw in that guy,” she mutters.

You put your thermos on the Keurig coffee maker and press the start button, staring down at your painted nails and the cuffs to your sweater for work. It’s been two months since your ex took your heart, shat on it, and threw it in the trash all on what would have been your second-year anniversary. But according to him, he never had your heart in the first place. 

He had told you all of this while standing outside of the restaurant he wasted time making reservations for, humiliating you in front of the people who walked in and out the doors.

“You think I don’t see the way you look at them?” he had scoffed to you, face twisted in a scowl. “You think I don’t know? How the fuck are you with me but you’re in love with them?” 

“I’m not in love with either of them!” you had shouted, in tears, makeup and night ruined. “We’re just friends! I had a crush on Mina in high school, but–” 

“And it hasn’t left,” he had growled. “Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. Whenever we’re all together, you look at her like you want to kiss her. And you look at her man like you want him to join!” 

His harsh words made you flinch, and it made you cringe even more that you weren’t subtle in keeping your feelings hidden from him. “I’ve done so much to try and show you how much you mean to me,” he said, his voice strained with emotion. “And yet…” He scoffed to himself, looking away from you as if he couldn’t stand the sight of you. 

You stared down at your shoes, ashamed. started to be angered with yourself at hurting him so…until he said this fuck shit: “I thought I was okay with you being bisexual, but deep down, I always knew this would happen.” 

Your head shot up so fast you could’ve gotten whiplash. “You’re kidding, right?” you scoffed, but his scowl told you differently. “You’re blaming this on my sexuality? Something I can’t help?” He was silent, walls behind his eyes completely guarding his true feelings.

You should’ve known that would’ve happened. It wouldn’t be the first time you were misunderstood for being bisexual in the dating scene: ‘So it’s not a phase?’ ‘Does that mean you’d be down for a threesome?’ ‘What if you cheat with a guy and a girl? I couldn’t handle that!’ 

The first month after that was filled with crying, self-loathing, and nights getting cuddles from Mina. The next month was better, but you’ve learned to keep a boundary between Mina and Kirishima, including missing out on hanging with them by taking up extra hours at work or going to your campus library to study for exams instead. 

“I just worry about you, Y/N,” Mina sighs, bringing you back down to earth. “Kiri worries too. He just doesn’t tell you because he’s worried he’ll cross a line. You don’t even hang with us anymore!”  

You sigh to yourself, feeling horrible for treating your friends in such a way. You want to explain yourself to them, but that would mean admitting to them the truth about why your ex left you in the first place and about the pitiful, embarrassing crushes you have on them. As the smell of coffee fills the air, the hot liquid becoming chilled from the ice in your thermos, you turn to a worried-looking Mina. 

“I’m sorry, Pinky,” you say apologetically, tugging at the sleeve of your sweater. Mina cracks a smile at the use of her hero name and your old nickname for her in high school. “I guess I’ve just been trying to distract myself from any romance…including you and Kiri.”

Mina’s brows furrow in confusion. “I mean, shit, Mina,” you chuckle. “You guys are relationship goals! Every time you guys are together, I feel like offing myself.” 

Mina giggles to herself, the sound like music to your ears. Then her smile drops. “Have we been making you uncomfortable?” she asks, and then gasps, horrified. “Have we been rubbing our relationship in your face this whole time? Is that why you stopped hanging out with us?” 

“Mina, Mina, honey!” You immediately come to her aid, putting your hands on her shoulders. “You’re gonna make yourself sick. No, you and Kiri don’t make me uncomfortable. You just make me remember what I had.” Or wish I had. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Mina softly says, looking absolutely gutted by this. “I didn’t even realize…” She trails off, staring down at her yellow shark slippers. You want to kick yourself, feeling like you just made her feel guilty for something that isn’t even her fault. 

Finally, she looks back up at you, a newfound understanding in those stark night eyes. “You don’t have to come to Bakugou’s party, if you don’t want to. I know his parties aren’t your scene and that’s fine! I just thought it’d be a good chance for you to have fun and relax because you so deserve it.” 

‘Do I?’ you want to ask. Do you really deserve anything close to peace after your relationship ended because you’re crushing on two other people that can never like you back? 

The Keurig buzzes, signaling that your coffee is done and making you realize that you’ve yet to cook breakfast, and you start your shift in half an hour. It also makes you realize that you do, in fact, need a distraction from your breakup, even if just for a little while. And you’ll make sure you stay as far away from Mina and Kiri’s love affair as possible while there. 

You let out a defeated sigh, earning Mina’s attention. “Fine,” you groan. “I’ll go.” Mina squeals, happily clapping her hands. “But only for an hour. I’m not gonna stick around and watch Denki try to take body shots off of every girl at the party again.” 

Mina shakes her head so hard that she’d put a bobblehead out of work. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” She squeals again, wrapping her arms tightly around you and giving you a whiff of her strawberry shampoo from her soft, pink curls. “Oh, this is gonna be so much fun! I’ll meet you outside of your office at 4 and we can go shopping!” 

“And get dinner,” you add, playfully batting her away. “Now shoo! I have to get ready for work.” Mina giggles and goes to leave you to pack up, but not before grabbing your chin and planting a kiss on your cheek that leaves you feeling hot in your sweater and your brain short-circuiting. 

Ten minutes later, when you finally grab your coffee and your bag for work and make it on time to the bus stop to take you to work, you wonder if this is really a good idea. Is it possible to stay away from your very attractive best friend and her very attractive boyfriend tonight, especially when alcohol is involved? 

Standing under the cherry blossom trees that grace the block of your apartment, pink petals cascading down around you, you look to the blue spring sky in prayer. “God, help me,” you moan. 

********************

When you and Mina step out of the Lyft she orders the next night and stand in front of the massive mansion brimming with activity and noise, you already regret stepping out of your apartment. 

Especially in the mini dress she made you wear after shopping the day before after your very slow shift at the financial law firm. Your boss wasn’t there that day, so you let yourself take a longer lunch than normal after completing all of your tasks as soon as you got there.

It’s a pretty good gig–the pay is enough to keep the lights on, you get your own private cubicle, and it puts you in a position to meet pro heroes who have financial problems of their own, so the gossip with Mina is always juicy. 

You now wish you would’ve just made an excuse to go straight home yesterday instead of shopping for a good party outfit. Though you’ll admit you look good in the skin-tight, bodycon dress, matching pumps, and a push-up bra that makes your titties look absolutely scrumptious, the cool spring breeze sneaking up your thighs to your panties makes you think twice. 

Especially as Mina drags you up the steps to the brick walkway to Dynamight’s humble abode. You can hear the hip-hop music blaring from the speakers inside (sounds like Pop Smoke), so loud that the windows shake, and the DJ hyping the dancing crowd up into the mic. Multi-color lights flash from inside the living room, all different colors of rainbows. 

Mina, with her hand still in yours, turns to smile at you. She went for a black crop top that stops just above her toned stomach and low-rise jeans with rips at the knees that exposes the V-line that leads down to where your fantasies can only imagine. In her six-inch pumps, she stands just at your height, and her gold earrings dangling from her ears glint in the moonlight shining above the mansion roof. “Ready?” she brightly asks. 

“Definitely not,” you answer, nervously staring at your hands still connected.

“Aw, come on, girl!” she giggles. “You’ll be fine! Everyone you know is there. Bakugou is very particular about his guests. Plus, you look fine as hell.” She sneakily takes a handful of your ass, making you squeak. “No doubt you’ll find someone to get your mind off of that jerk. Now come on!” 

Before you can protest or even recover from the ass grab, she’s knocking on the door where a big, burly man comes walking up to the door with a very intimidating scowl. “Name?” he asks as he gets out a notepad. 

“Mina Ashido and Y/N L/N,” Mina answers, her bright smile never faltering. The guard looks over the notepad for a moment before nodding and allowing them through. As soon as they’re inside, he shuts the door and stands by it protectively. 

Your eyes drink in the large, beautifully-decorated living room where guests, many of whom you know and are familiar with, occupy. Most are on the dance floor that is separated from the front door by a red velvet rope, bodies bumping under the lights to the music. On the far right is a mini bar where three hired bartenders are serving drinks, from cocktails to rounds of shots.

Along the walls are love seats and lounge seats where you see puffs of smoke from lit blunts and hookah pipes float up to the ceiling. Near the dance floor is a DJ stand where the DJ stands working hard, taking a break from yelling into the mic. Though the party still looks like it is worth a couple thousand, it’s pretty chill for Bakugou’s taste. 

Speaking of Bakugou, when he yells at Mina and you from across the room, it’s like a record scratch in itself. “Pinky! Y/N!” he screams at the top of his lungs, waving one muscular arm at them from his little VIP area which includes the likes of the Bakusquad. Sero gives a wave too which you happily return while Denki throws up the peace sign, too faded to function as he snuggles with Jirou in his seat who gives you a wave as well. 

“There’s the birthday boy!” Mina happily laughs as Bakugou throws both arms around her tinier body, nearly knocking her over. “Damn, someone’s been goin’ overtime.” 

“You fuckin’ know it,” Bakugou slurs before giving you a hug as well. You can smell the liquor radiating off of him. “She got you out of the crib, huh? Must be a full moon.” 

“Very funny,” you scoff, throwing his arms off of you as he cackles. “And happy birthday. Surprised you didn’t go overboard this time.” Bakugou rolls his crimson eyes at your words. “Ugh, don’t even mention it. My publicist was up my ass about how my car ended up in that pool.” 

You giggle at the memory of that group chat where you, Mina, and the rest of the squad clowned Bakugou for his bad decisions. “And I’m surprised you put yourself in that get-up,” Bakugou comments, his eyes trailing over your form. “What, you my birthday present or something? ‘Cause I wouldn’t be complaining.” 

“Careful, K,” Mina says in a warning, protectively putting a hand on your lower back. It only makes your skin catch fire through the fabric of your dress. “She just got out of a relationship two months ago. I don’t think she’s wanting to take care of your drunk ass tonight.” 

Bakugou scoffs in disbelief at her words, making you giggle to yourself. “Don’t worry, Bakugou,” you coo, patting the birthday boy on the back. “There’s plenty of girls I’m sure would love to give a piece of another kind of cake tonight.” 

“And who would that be?” a very familiar, very sexy, rasped voice asks from behind you. “Certainly not you, right, Y/N? You’re way too good for this messy bitch.”

You slowly turn, finding the Red Riot to be standing behind you carrying two lemon drop martinis rimmed in sugar. And he looks so damn good–he decided to go casual with a loose mesh tank top that exposes his impressive pecs where you see the silver ring that adorns one nipple and muscular arms roped in tattoos, leather joggers that only leave to the imagination what’s underneath, and hightop sneakers. His red locks are tied half up, half down, though some strands still fall into his crimson eyes that are dead-locked on you and Mina.

He gives you both a toothy smile, cocking the brow that is pierced. “Well, look who decided to grace us with their presence,” he chuckles. “Two of the prettiest girls to exist.” Bakugou rolls his eyes at his friend’s words. “Stop being such a fuckin’ simp, man,” he groans. 

Kiri only laughs. “You’re just jealous is all.” He sticks his tongue out at Bakugou before handing you and Mina the drinks. “For you, m’ladies. Figured you’d get some now before other guests arrive. Deku and Ochako are running late, Shoto will be here later after visiting his siblings, and I think some other folks are coming.” 

“Thank you, babe,” Mina giggles and wraps her arms around Kiri’s neck. He returns the embrace, squeezing her against him before taking a handful of her ass with one muscular hand. “Who the fuck told you to come out the house like this?” he playfully growls as she squeals in his ear. 

You stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to do except sip your drink. God, you wish you were between that, feeling Mina’s breasts pressing against your front while Kiri holds your hips from behind, the hard planes of his chest pushing into your back. You picture the two of you together on the dance floor, hips rolling and lost in the bliss, hands caressing and lips on each others’ necks. 

“Oi, don’t drool on my floor, dummy,” Bakugou playfully growls into your ear. You startle, looking at his humored smirk. “I’m not drooling,” you hiss. 

His smile still doesn’t slip from his face. “You ain’t tell ‘em yet?” he asks, nodding at Mina and Kiri who are now laughing to each other about something Denki did an hour before they arrived, Kiri’s eyes loving and adoring as they regard Mina. “And don’t give me no dumb shit and say, “tell ‘em what”. You know what I mean.” 

Even if you wanted to play dumb, you don’t think you’d have the energy to. You take a sip of the lemon drop, hoping the taste of sugar, citrus, and vodka will help ease the tension you feel watching your friends canoodle as they stand at the bar now. “No,” you whisper to Bakugou. “And I never will. They’re my friends, Katsuki, and they’re dating.” 

“You know poly is a thing, right?” he asks like you’re an idiot. You roll your eyes so hard into your head that you swear they’ll roll out your skull. Yes, of course, you know that polyamorous relationships are a thing! You’ve never been in one before, but you know you want one with them. 

“Yes, fuck!” you hiss, irked. “Of course, I do, but just because it’s a thing doesn’t automatically mean they’d be down for it…or that they feel the same way!” 

“Who feels the same way?” Mina questions, now suddenly beside you. Kiri stands behind her with his own beer, cracking the bottle cap open with no problem. “Uh, no one!” you immediately answer. “Nothing! We were just…talking. Right, Bakugou?” 

Bakugou looks at you and then at Mina and Kiri, not even blinking. With a sip of his drink, he silently walks away, heading back to the VIP section to stop Denki from dry fucking Jirou on his coffee table and Sero’s horrible singing by impressive dancing to the reggaeton now blaring from the speakers above. Without him as a buffer, you feel awkward and embarrassed standing in front of your attractive, gorgeous, sexy friends. 

“Hey, why don’t we sit?” Kiri suggests with a grin. “Wouldn’t want either of you to get knocked over in these things.” He taps his foot against Mina’s pumps and then your four-inch heels. “How the hell you walk in those?” 

“These aren’t even that high, Kiri,” you giggle, stopping abruptly when he puts his large hand on your lower back. The light touch of his fingertips on your skin leaves a trail of fire in their wake. “I know nothing about women’s shoes and I’m glad I don’t,” he chuckles as he leads you and Mina to another lounge section. “By the way, you look really good tonight. Red is definitely your color.” 

The compliment has you flushing. “Doesn’t she?” Mina squeals happily. “I had to make the girl get the dress ‘cause she was adamant about not wearing it. Doesn’t she look like she’ll get some good dick by the time the party ends?” She smirks at Kiri who lets out a loud, belly laugh. 

“Mina!” you shriek, embarrassed. “Or pussy!” Mina adds with a devious giggle. “Sorry, girl. Can’t forget you go both ways.” You roll your eyes as you take a seat on the black loveseat presented to you farther away from the commotion of the party. “You’re impossible, and you’re not even drunk yet.” 

Mina winks at you, sipping her martini. “Nearly there.” Kiri takes a seat next to you first before circling an arm around Mina’s waist and positioning her to sit in his lap. His left arm settles there protective while his right moves to sling around the back of the couch, right behind your neck, still holding his beer. Like he’s protecting both of his girls. The nagging thought makes you sip your drink a little slower. 

“So what’s been up, stranger?” Kiri asks, flashing you an easy grin that makes your stomach flutter. “You’ve been good? Mina says you’ve been getting better since that dickhead dumped you. And on your second anniversary?” He shakes his head disappointedly. “That’s so unmanly.” 

“Tell me about it,” you sigh despondently. “I’m much better than last month. You should’ve seen me–nothing but tears, ice cream, and wine bottles. Mina will tell you.” Mina nods, clarifying your statement. Kiri frowns, not happy with hearing that. “Shit, Y/N. Why didn’t you come hang with us all that time? Was starting to think you hated us.” 

He says it like he’s kidding, but you can tell from his slightly saddened gaze that he means it. You feel even worse now. “I don’t hate you, silly,” you softly giggle. “But I’m sorry for making you both feel like that. I just didn’t wanna be reminded of what I didn’t have anymore.” You tick a finger between him and Mina. 

Kiri raises his pierced brow. “That’s why you always leave when I visit you and Mina? Or why you never come out with us anymore?” Your face burns with embarrassment. “I know it sounds stupid, but–” 

“Y/N,” Kiri cuts in, sounding serious, “if you were ever feeling uncomfortable with Mina and me showing each other affection in front of you, you could’ve said so. Especially since you just got broken up with. We would’ve been more mindful of how you were feeling.” 

Mina nods, agreeing, and takes your hand from across Kiri’s lap. “We love you just as much as we love each other,” she says, her soft voice serious and firm. “You’re our third piece, you know.” 

Third piece. Like another missing piece to a puzzle. Like the answer to an equation. Maybe it’s the alcohol starting to talk, but something in those words fills you with so much warmth and fuzziness that you have to shift in your seat to make yourself comfortable. “Thanks, guys,” you manage to giggle. “I feel much less like an idiot now.” 

“You should feel like an idiot for thinking we wouldn’t notice your change in behavior, dummy!” Mina pokes your cheek, making you and Kiri laugh. “But there’s nothing like a little alcohol that can change that.” She clinks your glass with yours, her glossy lips shining under the flashing lights. “How about it, Y/N? You down with hanging with us tonight?” Kiri’s eyes lock with yours, the softness in them pleading with you to stay. 

You didn’t have to be told twice. 

The next hour rolls by in flashes; clips that you know you won’t be able to remember come tomorrow. At some point, you notice Deku and Uraraka sneak in holding hands and give them a wave. Shoto slinks in as well alongside Hitoshi and Iida, who looks way out of his element here. Momo and Tsuyu come too, and you, Mina, and the rest of the gang of U.A. 1 girls chat for a while about your outfits and relationships before Kiri steals you and Mina away again.

In the hour, you consume about two martinis, two tequila shots, and a shot of Henny that is coaxed by Bakugou walking around telling people to drive the boat. “And no hands!” Denki had yelled beside Bakugou, just as ready to see you and Mina down a shot with a phone in hand and the camera light in your face. “But I get to pour it,” Kiri prompted, already moving to snatch the bottle out of Bakugou’s hands. 

Bakugou put up his hands in defense, allowing his friend to first pour a shot down Mina’s throat. The girl was ready, throwing her head back with her mouth open. “Tongue out,” Kiri had demanded in a low growl you’ve never heard before, and it sent a flutter between your legs that you had to clamp shut by crossing your legs. 

Mina did as she was told, sticking her pink tongue out to catch the stream of Henny that poured from the bottle. She took it gladly, swallowing it and then giving a gaping Bakugou and Denki a grin. She then looked at you with a mischievous smile. “You’re next, kid,” she giggled as Kiri loomed on you, a wide smirk on his face. “Don’t worry, cutie,” he chuckled at your horrified expression. “You can take it. I know you can.” 

Before you could respond or even tell your mind to stop getting in the gutter, Kiri was already coaxing your mouth open, tongue out, and the Henny was pouring down your throat in a short but strong stream. You swallowed it, feeling the short burn in your throat and then the warm feeling that wrapped around you later once it started settling. Mina squealed happily, hugging you tightly while Denki drooled and Bakugou went in search of new people to harass. 

After that, the alcohol really started settling in. You could tell from the warmth you felt all over your body and the way your stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies. Not to mention the way your pussy clenched. Mina and Kiri sitting so close to you don’t make it any better.

You all now sit with Mina in between you and Kiri on the loveseat, arms thrown over your shoulders. Her heels are off and her lip gloss is gone, her head tilted up to the ceiling as she mouths the words to SZA’s “Love Galore”. You look over at Kiri and see him swaying to the music, eyes hooded. You’re not sure if he’s tipsy too, but you wouldn’t put it passed him. 

“Ah, I’ve missed this,” Mina sighs contently. “Just us. Being together like this.” She puts one foot in your lap and wiggles her painted toes. “You say it like we’re all in a relationship or something,” you giggle and then freeze, realizing what you just said. God, is the alcohol really that strong? 

Mina stares at you, her gaze softer than normal. “Aren’t we though?” she questions. “Aren’t we all one big happy family?” You blink at her, not sure what she means or why it makes you feel so warm. 

Kiri must notice the tension because he lays a hand on his tipsy girlfriend’s shoulder. “Mina, baby…” But Mina is still giving you that soft-eyed gaze, one that makes your heart beat ten times faster.

“I think what she means is that things feel natural when it’s all three of us, you know? Like three peas in a pod.” He gives you a friendly, lopsided smile that eases the strange energy in the air between you. He sits back, sipping some of his beer. “But it’s better when you’re happy and comfortable.” 

Now you realize what Mina meant: you really are like a big, happy family. You, Mina, and Kiri, together. Two people you trust wholeheartedly with your secrets and weird habits. Two people you can count on to have your back through everything. The newfound knowledge makes you want to cry. You blink away the tears in a hurry, not wanting them to think you’re that drunk. Damn those fucking drinks! 

“I am,” you answer honestly, looking into Mina and Kiri’s eyes.  “And…I’ve missed you guys too. I like us together like this too.” Your words make them both grin happily, the sights of them making your heart swell.

“Come on, girly,” Mina giggles. “Bring it in closer!” You scoot over and hug her to you, breathing in her scent of perfume, sweat, and strawberry.

Kiri wraps his muscled arms around both of you, squeezing tight even as you wheeze and Mina cries out for him to ease up. “Kiri, you’re crushing me!” you shriek with laughter. 

“Not a chance,” he grunts playfully, but he eases up enough to allow you both to breathe.

You feel oh-so-happy you could kiss both of them. You were so worried that things would be awkward or that you’d ruined everything after not hanging with them as much, but now you realize how stupid those thoughts were. You’re so filled with love for them that you could just grab them and hold them, run your hands over them, feel your tongue caress theirs as you– 

“Oh, boy.” Kiri’s voice stops your heated thoughts from taking flight, his eyes directed towards the DJ stand where Denki stands with the mic in one hand and a red solo cup in the other. “Turn the fuckin’ music up!” he slurs into the mic. “I wanna see some ass! Ladies, single or not, get out on this fuckin’ floor!” 

The DJ is happy to oblige, switching to a mix of City Girls, Megan Thee Stallion, and a bit of those 90s songs like Uncle Luke and 2 Live Crew that make you want to hit the splits and throw your ass in someone’s face with your drunk ass. Mina squeals, already standing up and moving her hips, happy with the song change. 

“You heard Denki’s drunk ass,” Kiri chuckles to you. “Ladies first.” He motions his hand for you and Mina to go first. You stand on legs that suddenly feel like jelly and walk with a dancing Mina to the dance floor where it’s beyond packed. Mina takes your hands in hers and moves with you to the music, no ass-throwing yet.

Kiri stands protectively behind Mina, not touching her but still keeping watch. You giggle, moving your hips with her, and though your dance moves are pretty tame, it’s enough to attract someone from off to the side of the dance floor. And his eyes are on you. 

The guy is pretty nice-looking, but he’s not familiar. His leering presence is enough to make Kiri move in, standing between you and Mina, and the stranger. “Ah, sorry, dude. She’s with me.” Mina, finally paying attention, flashes a smile at the guy. “She’s with us, actually,” she adds with a wink. 

The stranger puts up his hands in defense and slinks away, but Kiri never moves away. Mina turns to you and wraps her arms around you, pulling you closer. “Right, Y/N?” she purrs to you, so close you can smell her perfume and peppermint gum mixed with the vodka on her breath. “Aren’t you with us?” 

The scent of her perfume, the closeness of her, and the alcohol are all making it very hard to focus or even speak. She doesn’t allow you time to think of a response before she’s whipping around and bending her knees, winding her pretty ass all up into you. Though you’ve done this plenty of times with her, it feels so much different now. Kiri laughs from beside you as his girlfriend pops off, even hitting a split before picking herself back up and proceeding to leave her breathless. 

“You’d better catch it, cutie,” Kiri chuckles. “Mina doesn’t play when she throws it.” He gives you a wink, telling you something only you can catch. “Oh, I know,” you laugh. “Neither do I.” Catching Mina by surprise, you whirl her around so she’s standing behind you and throw your ass into her. She gladly allows it, her hands gripping your hips to push into hers. 

“Shouldn’t you be the one in my position, sir?” Mina playfully scolds, and for a moment you forget Kiri is still here. “Get your ass over here!” You stand up straight as Mina pulls Kiri towards you and moves to stand behind him, her hands on his hips. 

“Oh, I don’t…” The words die in your throat as you get a look at Kiri’s hard chest and how close he is. You can feel his hot breath fanning your face and the cologne he’s wearing smells so damn good. Why does God punish you so? “It’s okay, Y/N!” Mina laughs from behind her boyfriend. “Throw it back on him, girl!” 

Kiri looks down at you, the multi-colored lights flashing across his handsome face and hooded eyes. “You heard her,” he whispers, a cheeky grin on his face. “Lemme see what you got, cutie.” 

He’s called you “cutie” so many times before, but this feels different. Personal. You’ve danced with him before too, of course, but never like this: so intimate and nasty, your ass winding into his hips that push into yours, moving in time with the beat. But you’re too gone in the alcohol, the music, and the closeness of Kiri to think rationally. 

You can see why Mina always brings Kiri to parties and clubs with her because the man can keep up. At one point, he picks you up and bounces you up and down against him, your titties jiggling in your bra and hair flying, your and Mina’s shrieks of laughter heard among you. He does the same thing to Mina too, leading you to hype him up and take your phone out to snap a video. You can only imagine what the man can do in bed with moves like that. 

After the freaky music ends, it only gets freakier, the tempo growing slower and more sensual. You recognize the song now playing as that mashup between Beyoncé’s “Cuff It” and Twista’s “Wetter” (Remix here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbyPBIy_qYA). The energy on the floor shifts as bodies begin to bump and grind under the lights.

The energy in the air shifts too as Mina suddenly moves behind you, sandwiching you between herself and Kiri. “Now we switch,” she giggles softly, the sound breathy and barely above a whisper. “Stand close to me. Don’t want you gettin’ away from us this time.” 

You find yourself unable to speak as both press against you from the front and the back, Mina’s hands on your hips and grinding herself into your ass. Kiri has his hands on Mina’s ass, meaning his arms around wrapped around you since you’re sandwiched in between. “Is this okay?” he whispers against the shell of your ear. “Still feelin’ good, babe?” 

“I…I…” Your words are soft and weak. You wanna tell him you feel like a prisoner in a very sexy and tempting jail cell, but how the fuck would that sound?

Kiri smiles down at you, his gaze less than friendly. “I know I told you already,” he whispers, “but you look really good tonight. And you’re wearin’ my color.” He inhales sharply as one hand moves to run down your hip, his fingers gliding across the fabric. “You don’t know what that does to me.” 

Your mouth is parted with unspoken words, your mind desperately trying to make sense of what’s happening. Before you can, Kiri twirls you around so you’re facing Mina and he’s behind you, his hard body swaying with both of yours. Mina wraps her arms around your shoulders and moves closer so you’re chest to chest, stomach to stomach.

You can’t focus on anything other than how good this feels, being between them like this, where you feel as if nothing could ever touch or harm you. You find yourself leaning your head back into Kiri’s chest, neck exposed to his lips or teeth if he wishes to take a bite of you. You’d welcome it. 

But it isn’t Kiri who decides to assault your neck in kisses. It’s Mina. The scent of her strawberry shampoo hits your nostrils as her lips caress the exposed skin of your neck. You resist the urge to whimper, and you don’t know whether you should push her away or welcome her.

“We should…we shouldn’t…” The words coming from your mouth are barely audible, even to you. The scent of Kiri’s cologne and Mina’s lips on your neck are enough to silence you as your pussy clenches in your panties. 

Just as the song changes to something just as slow and sensual, specifically that Ariana Grande x Ciara mashup that you’ve found Mina winding her hips in the kitchen many times to (Remix here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lMfl3yOQ3us) and you begin to think the DJ is trying to get the dance floor pregnant, Mina moves her head from your neck to look at you. Her gaze is soft and hungry, less than friendly. 

The air is charged, shifting to something completely different. Something heated and tempting, nasty yet sensual. Then, like a full moon, Mina’s face gets closer to yours and her lips are suddenly on yours. They’re soft and slightly sticky from the remains of the Fenty gloss that coated her lips. Your eyes are open, wide with shock, and her lips move against yours, the tip of her wet tongue caressing your bottom lip, but not coaxing it open. 

The kiss lasts for what feels like an eternity, but it’s only for about twenty seconds at the least. In that moment, your mind goes blank and all words cease to exist. Mina’s eyes flutter open to look at her, her golden irises soft. “Thank God for those martinis,” she sighs softly. “Or else I wouldn’t have been able to finally do that.” 

You blink at her, silent, not understanding what the fuck just happened. But that’s stupid because of course you do! Your friend, your beautiful, amazing, talented, sexy best friend, just kissed you in the middle of the dance floor. “W-What?” you dumbly ask. “What did you do?” 

Mina is still giving you that soft, longing look as her arms drop from your neck. “Would you believe it if I told you that I’ve been crushing on you since our U.A. days?” she asks as if afraid to find out the answer. 

You blink again, rapidly, making sure this isn’t a dream or some hallucination from inhaling too much weed. “Wh-What?” you dumbly, idiotically, stupidly, and drunkenly ask again. 

“She’s not the only one, cutie,” Kiri guiltily says from behind you. You turn to face him and he’s giving you an apologetic look. “I’m guilty of that too. But we were all such good friends back then too that I didn’t wanna say anything.” 

Mina nervously wrings her hands together, looking less than confident. “Me either. And then Kiri and I started dating, and we both admitted to each other our feelings for you. We just weren’t sure if we should ever say anything, especially when your ex came into the picture. I mean, poly relationships aren’t exactly new, but they’re still kinda taboo in society, y’know? They’re misunderstood.” 

Kiri nods, agreeing. “Plus, we’ve never been in a poly relationship before, so it’s still new to us too.” He rubs the back of his neck, causing his tricep to bulge. 

You look between your two friends who look like they wanna dig their hands in the sand and never come out, and you can’t believe anything they’re saying. This has to be a dream, right? There’s no way this is real. It’s just too good. Too sweet. Too much of a blessing. Your mind races as you attempt to process their words and confessions, and the fact that they feel the same way as you. “Shit.” It’s all you can muster. 

Mina’s eyes widen an inch and she looks downright terrified. “Fuck, we’re overwhelming you, aren’t we?” she laments. “I knew we should’ve waited! I fucked up with that kiss, didn’t I?” She moves to back up, nearly bumping into someone, but Kiri grabs her arm to stop her. “Mina, baby, relax.” 

“You didn’t!” you say loudly, your hand shooting out to stop her from leaving. Then again, softer, “You didn’t.” Mina blinks, surprised. You lick your dry lips and will yourself to tell the truth. It’s too late to turn back now. “My ex broke up with me because he knew my heart lied with another,” you softly admit as you take Kiri’s hand into other empty hand. “Or rather two others.” His eyes widen in realization. 

“I’ve wanted you both for a long time now,” you softly admit, even as the heat in your cheeks rises and you want the floor to swallow you up whole. Especially as the silence between you swells uncomfortably so. 

Suddenly, Kiri’s gaze grows hooded and dark, all kindness gone. “Fuck,” he growls, unable to stop himself now. He grabs a hold of you by your waist and allows you to let out a tiny gasp of surprise before his lips are suddenly on yours. His lips is a little less soft than Mina’s, but still sensual and careful, his tongue asking for access to your mouth by caressing your bottom lip. 

You allow it, your mouth parting so his tongue can slip in and caress yours. You can taste the liquor, the slight tang of beer, and mint gum in his mouth as his tongue dances with yours, the feeling making you moan softly against his lips. You’re aware of Mina’s hands on your hips and her lips on your neck, making you want to shake from the feeling. This is just too much. The high is just too good. 

The sound of wolf whistles and Bakugou’s cackling in the mic make you and Kiri jump away, the kiss leaving you lightheaded. “Awww, shit, they fucking on the dance floor!” Denki hollers into the mic. “Get some!” He is still standing with the DJ as Bakugou and Sero laugh from beside him, both making obscene gestures at Kiri who flushes. 

Mina gives them the finger and turns to you both, her gaze electric. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” she whispers. You can’t agree more, and neither can Kiri. His calloused hand, rough from years of training and hero work, grab yours and Mina’s, practically dragging you off the dance floor to the banister leading up the winding staircase to Bakugou’s upstairs area. 

“No fucking in my bedroom, nerds!” Bakugou yells into the mic.

“Use protection!” Sero calls after you all as you practically run upstairs, Kiri nearly knocking one guy down as he stands blocking the stairs.

You don’t stop moving until you’re finally upstairs, hidden away from the prying eyes and ears of the party. The hallway is long and dark, many of the doors leading to guest rooms reserved for only Bakugou’s closest friends. His grand bedroom, which is right down the hall, is locked, the only doors open being some guest rooms and the bathroom on the left. 

“In here,” Mina whispers, already cracking open an unlocked door to a grand guest room. Kiri lets you and Mina slink in first before he walks in, shutting the door behind him.

The guest room is quite beautiful and clean with a flat-screen mounted on the wall and facing a king-sized bed covered in a soft, black comforter, a nightstand, a private bathroom, and a sliding glass door that leads out onto a balcony where the moonlight shines into the bedroom, lighting the darkness. It doesn’t appear that the door has an inside lock, but you doubt anyone will come upstairs to find you…or you hope not. 

You find yourself not really caring, especially when you’re standing in a room, alone, with your longtime crushes finally. Mina stands in the middle of the room, the moonlight making her hair look like a halo. She looks beautiful.

“Finally,” she sighs, exasperated. “I thought I was gonna have to start fucking you on the dance floor.” She steps toward you, eyes sensual slits. She takes her time; a predator assessing her prey. 

She doesn’t speak as she continues to saunter towards you and you don’t move. Your feet are frozen in place. She finally makes it to you and wraps her arms around your waist, bringing you close. “Now tell me all about how long you’ve wanted us.”

Her lips find yours once more, caressing your mouth. Her tongue slips into your mouth and swirls against yours for a few seconds before her lips suck gently against your mouth. A tiny moan leaves her lips at the soft sunction, the words taken right from your lips. 

As she gently releases your tongue, a thin strand of saliva glints between your mouths that seem to make you wetter. It even affects Kiri–you can hear the soft groan that leaves his lips from somewhere behind you. Mina gives you a playful smile, her eyes never leaving yours as her pink lips coat your neck and collarbone in kiss, her fingers dancing across your back. 

You moan softly at the feeling of her everywhere all at once. “Mina…” Her name is a sigh on your lips. 

“Tell me all about how much you’ve wanted to kiss me,” she coos, her lips like a sweet drug to you. You just want more. “Or kiss Kiri.” She pulls away and gazes at Kiri who has been standing there respectfully behind you but his fists are clenched and his joggers aren’t doing much to hide the bulge there. Your eyes widen at the size. He’s huge. 

Mina giggles to herself as her fingers glide down your hips. “I bet you’ve been dreaming about trying him for yourself, hm? Well, now’s your chance. We get to share him tonight.” Your mouth drops at her words and you stare at her, dumbfounded. She must take your reaction wrong because her smile fades, her eyes nervous. “I-If that’s what you want.” 

If that’s what you want. ‘Does a bear shit in the forest?’ you think. Of fucking course that’s what you want!

Kiri steps a little closer, still giving you space to feel comfortable. “No pressure, cutie,” he softly, encouragingly, says. “This is all about you. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about this a few times.” A light dusting of red coats his cheeks, matching his stark red hair. 

All about you. The words are sweet but they don’t make you feel too good. You don’t want tonight to just be about you. You shake your head slowly at Kiri. “No. It’s about us.” You take his hand, bringing him closer to you and Mina. To his girls. “I’ve wanted this since our U.A. days. I’ve thought about us, together, like this.” 

The happy smile that crosses both Kiri and Mina’s lips makes your heart flutter. If you got a contact high from all that weed and hookah smoke floating about downstairs, then this is the best hallucination ever. Mina wastes no time cupping your face in her hands and kissing you again, passion and words left unsaid for years exploding through that one move. You return the kiss, moving your hands to hold her slim waist against you. Your tongue glides into her mouth, unable to get enough of your touch.

“Fuck, Y/N,” she softly moans into your mouth. “You taste so good.” The sound of your name on her lips, so lewd yet so sweet, goes straight to your clit, making the tiny bud jump in your panties. 

You’re hyper aware of Kiri’s strong hand caressing your back as you and Mina makeout, lips and tongues dancing with one another. “Fuck,” he exhaled sharply. “That is so fucking sexy, seeing you pretty girls kiss like that.” Pretty. He called you pretty. “Is it okay if I join?” 

Mina pulls away from the kiss and raises a brow at him, laughing. “Are you kidding me? That’s why you’re here!” She yanks him over, having him stand between you and her. “Get your sexy ass over here.”

Kiri is like a very sexy wedge between you and Mina, nothing but muscles and a 6 ft frame that towers over you but doesn’t make you feel intimidated in any way. You’d gladly let the man toss your ass around like a rag doll, fuck you any way he wants to. But it makes you even wetter to know he’d ask you first and do it how you want it done. 

“Is that okay with you?” he asks, eyes serious. You nod, unable to speak, but Kiri ain’t having none of that. His hand moves to caress your chin, making you flush. “Gimme a yes, cutie. Not just a nod.” 

You don’t know how you manage to speak, but the tiny “yes” that leaves your lips are enough for him. A smirk crosses his lips and it soaks your panties even more. “Good girl.” 

God, as if you couldn’t get any more aroused. Those two words make every single cell in your body come to life. Kiri doesn’t allow you time to process the words when his mouth finds yours, swooping in to give you one toe-curling kiss.

Mina, ever the observant little minx, notices your reaction to Kiri’s praise though and giggles. “Oooh, you found her weakness. She just loves being called a good girl. And a word of advice: she goes insane for praise too….and neck kisses.” 

Kiri pulls away, looking at her in surprise, and then at you. “Oh, yeah?” he asks, quirking curious a brow at you. 

“Hey!” you gasp as Mina pokes her tongue at you. Leave it to this sneaky bitch to use your confessions of kinks against you after many times of talking about sex between two girl friends. You eye Kiri, pursing your lips at him. “And I bet you know she loves a hand on her throat. And spankings.”

Mina flushes while Kiri smirks. “Oh, don’t I,” he growls. One hand comes down to smack Mina on the ass, the sound of his hand coming down onto her cheeks and Mina’s little yelp turning you on. “Little brat, ain’t she?” 

You nod in agreement as he turns back to you, his gaze softer now. “Before we go any further, is there anything you don’t want me to do or say? Any boundaries I shouldn’t cross?” 

“Uh…” You try to grasp for something to answer his question. Really, you’d let them both do whatever they wanted to you, but you can understand why he’s asking. This is the first time either one of you are together like this. So you answer honestly: “Not really. I don’t mind being called a slut. And I guess just let me know if you wanna do rougher shit with me.” 

Kiri nods, understanding, as Mina throws an arm around his neck. “Oh, don’t worry, pretty girl,” she purrs. “Kiri’s a gentleman. He’ll be as soft or as rough as you want him to be. You’re in good hands.” Your eyes trail over Kiri’s face, your eyes locking with his. “I know,” you whisper, only for him to hear. You trust him and Mina completely with your body, your heart, your soul. 

Those words make every single restraint Kiri had on himself crumble. “Come here, gimme that neck,” he growls, and his lips begin to assault your neck and shoulders, giving you the sweetest, wettest kisses everywhere he can reach. “Fuck, you feel so good against me,” he groans against your skin. “It took everything in me to not fuck you up on that dance floor.” 

The dirty secrets leaving his lips make you moan, throwing your head back, unashamed and unabashed. “So now you know we both wanted to jump your bones,” Mina purrs, now suddenly beside you, her breath fanning your face. “Watching you two like this is so…fuck. Why don’t we finally get out of these clothes?” 

Kiri pulls away, his look hungered. You don’t even think your ex looked at you in such a way. “I thought you wouldn’t fucking ask. I was so close to ripping those clothes off of both of you.” 

“That’s not gentleman-ly at all, sir!” Mina mockingly scoffs. “Bad boy. Now you’ll have to watch instead of us.” She lays a hand on Kiri’s hard chest and playfully pushes him back onto the bed. He falls back against the soft mattress with a light laugh, the sound making you laugh too. “Just watch us for now, baby. Relax and enjoy the show.”

The moonlight illuminates Kiri’s face and you can see every ounce of lust in them. “Fuck…Yes, ma’am.” He does as his girlfriend says, moving against the headboard to put his muscled arms behind his head, enjoying the show unfolding before him. 

Mina comes up behind you, her fingers reaching for the zipper to your dress. “Come here, pretty girl. Let me get this zipper down for you. Is that okay?”

At your slow nod, she slowly brings the zipper down until your dress pools at your heeled feet. She softly gasps at the familiar push-up bra and panty set that adorns your skin, and Kiri groans, recognizing it too. “Rihanna’s lingerie? Naughty girl. I bet you were hoping you’d get fucked tonight, didn’t you?” 

Her hands come to cup your ass, gliding all over your hips and lower back as her lips kiss the back of your neck. Her hands then glide to the front to cup your breasts, gently needing them in the lace cups of your bra. “Ah…” The sound leaves your lips, feeling like a release. 

“Probably not by two though,” she giggles, eyeing Kiri. He lays there, the tent in his joggers growing bigger. “Lucky me. You’re still in your clothes though, Mina. Don’t you wanna join our pretty girlfriend?” 

Girlfriend. Our girlfriend. Fuck, if you would have died now, you’d die a happy woman.

You turn to assist Mina, wanting to get your hands on her. “Lemme help.” She happily allows you to strip her off her clothes, leaving them discarded on the floor. She is just left in just her pumps, a black bra that brings out her pink skin, and a matching thong that makes her ass look immaculate. So many times you’ve dreamed of touching those impressive, toned globes, smacking it, squeezing it. 

She lets you do it now and you can’t stop yourself. Your hands have minds of their own as they glide all over her ass and hips, your lips on her neck. The sounds that leave her lips are music to your ears, testimates of how good you’re making her feet.

“Yes, baby, touch me,” she softly gasps. “Let me touch you too.” Her lips find yours as her fingers find your panties, sneaking between your thighs to touch your fabric-covered flit. “Fuck, Mina,” you moan, unable to hold back. 

Her hand doesn’t stop its slow but deliberate strokes against your clit, moving to cup your sex and grind her palm into your mound. Sparks of pleasure shoot into your clit at the feeling of her palm against it, the feeling making your toes curl in your heels. You don’t even remember that Kiri is there until he lets out a strained groan. “Fuck, I love watching you two.” 

Mina pulls away from you and turns to look at him, a sexy smile on her face. “We can tell.” You turn to look at him and you find his hand in his pants, stroking his hardened dick that is still hidden from view beneath his joggers. He smirks lazily at you. “You like seeing me stroke myself, baby girl?” he coos. “It’s okay, you can look. It just makes me harder for you.” 

You can’t look away, practically salivating at the sight of his hand moving up and down beneath the fabric of his pants. Mina unabashedly stares too, her chest rapidly moving up and down at the sight. “Maybe we should help him out, Y/N. Put him out of his misery.” Her eyes twinkle as she looks at you and then kneels down at the bedside. 

Kiri practically scrambles to move closer to her, putting his legs over the bedside so she can reach. She smiles up at you, curling her finger to beckon you forward. “Come on, kneel with me.”

You’re helpless to resist –both by the sight of Kiri’s bulge and the curve of her breast peeking out of her bra cup as one of her straps falls loosely down her shoulder. You kneel beside her, feeling quite sexy as you do. “Go ahead and take off his pants.” 

You oblige and reach for the waistband to Kiri’s joggers. He lifts his hips for you, giving you easier access to get them off his hips before lowering them back down. “Fuck yes,” he breathlessly says, “and I’ll work on my shirt.” 

You go to help, but he stops you. “Nah. I’ll take care of the rest of me. You just worry about getting my pants down, okay, cutie?” He winks at you, making you flush and giggle like a damn schoolgirl. “Okay,” you breathlessly reply. He works fast to strip himself of the flimsy tank, flinging it somewhere on the floor, forgotten and unimportant. 

As you move his joggers down his legs sinwey with muscle, your eyes graze his impressive body–it’s nothing but muscle, pecs that could make great pillows, a six-pack granted by hours of workouts and discipline. His hooded eyes meet yours as his pants are finally at his feet, and then in one swift motion, gone when you take them down. “Good girl…now take my dick out.” 

You’re happy to oblige, your hands quickly moving to pull him out. And good Lord, you needed a warning! When you wrap your hand around his his big, hard dick and pull it out, your mouth falls open. He’s big, thick, and curves upwards, nothing but veins and precum that bubbles at the head for you and Mina that leads up to a patch of trimmed, black curls that are his natural pubic hairs. He has the most beautiful dick you’ve ever seen. It’d give any male porn star a run for its money. 

You can’t stop yourself from licking your hand and wrapping it around the base and stroking up and down slowly. You tighten your grip enough to add friction, watching as soft sighs of pleasure leave Kiri’s lips. “That’s it,” he coos. “Fuck, your hand feels so good!” He throws his head back, exposing his neck and bobbing Adam’s apple to you. 

Mina giggles from beside you, intently watching you work Kiri’s cock. “Stroking him already? Greedy girl. You didn’t even give him time to breathe.” She moves closer, whispering in your ear. “Mmm, isn’t he so big? And so hard for us? Bet you’ve wondered what it’d feel like in your hand.” 

‘Yes,’ you think, lips parted in astonishment as you watch your hand stroke Kiri up and down, the skin there stretching at your movements. Precum continues to drip down your hand, leaving you salivating. You want to taste him. 

“That’s it, nice and slow,” Mina coos into your ear. You listen, still working Kiri just right. He must think so too because he moans and grunts at the feeling, not holding anything back. The sounds drift up to the ceiling and make you even wetter. You’re practically soaking the floor through your panties. 

“Listen to those moans!” Mina moans, just as aroused. “He’s just begging for you at this point. Should we give him a treat?” She looks at you, eyes glinting and smile mischievous. Kiri picks his head up to look at you both, eyes wide and greedy. “Both of you? Oh, fuck yes, please!” 

Mina laughs, kissing your shoulder. “You heard him, girl. Get those lips around that dick.” You do so, making quick work of putting your lips over your teeth to cushion Kiri’s cock as you put him in your mouth. You give him slow strokes of your mouth and kitten licks first, getting used to feel of his big dick stretching your mouth. Kiri shudders, his toes curling at the feeling of your wet, hot mouth and soft lips drinking him in. 

Mina watches, coaxing you by rubbing your back. “Mmm, that’s it. Enjoy it. He feels good stretching out your mouth, doesn’t he? Oooh, you look so good taking him like that.” She moans lewdly at the sight and you swear you could burst at this point. Talk about foreplay. “How does she look, Kiri, baby?” she hums. 

Kiri is in his world, eyes red slits as he looks at you taking his cock so well. “So…so fucking good! You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth, gorgeous.” His words filled with sweet praise make you go deeper, your hand still stroking his shaft. 

“Come on, baby, take him deeper,” Mina encourages, eyes drinking you in as you take your boyfriend’s cock. “Yes, yes, like that. Take all that dick down your pretty throat.” You do so, gagging slightly as Kiri’s cock enters your throat. What you can’t take you stroke, slowly gagging on his dick and breathing through your nostrils. 

Kiri is losing it. He writhes underneath you, an arm thrown over his face like he can’t believe how good it feels. “Fuck, Y/N! Taking my cock so good!” You moan against his dick, the vibrations too much for him as you continue to bob your head up and down, up and down, just like that, right there… 

Kiri’s moans get louder, strained. “Oh, God, b-baby!” he calls out. “You have to stop or I’ll…I’ll…” You moan encouragingly, nodding your head because yes, you want him to cum. You want every ounce of his cum in your mouth, coating your tongue and throat. 

“Stop.” Mina’s stern voice stops you and reluctantly, you move away from Kiri’s dick now dripping in saliva and precum. His big balls are the same, glistening in the moonlight. Kiri’s chest moves up and down rapidly, his skin coated in sweat. “Don’t want him to blow a load before I’ve gotten a taste yet,” Mina purrs. “Move over, greedy girl.” 

You slowly move over to give her room, unhanding Kiri. Your hand and lips are coated in spit, but you don’t wipe it away. You like yourself like this for some reason. Mina giggles at you, bumping your hip with hers. “Don’t just sit there, silly. Help me out. Stroke his shaft and his balls for me. He loves that.” 

And then she’s taking Kiri in her mouth, giving him short strokes before taking her in her throat with ease. Your eyes widen at the sight of Kiri’s fat dick stretching out her mouth, but she gladly takes it all, her golden eyes looking straight at your helpless, writhing boyfriend. Your hand, still wet from stroking Kiri, palms his balls, gently kneading the soft skin there. 

“Ohhh, my fucking God!” he practically screams to the ceiling above. “So…so good…” He’s so loud that you glance at the door for a moment, worried someone will come walking in to see what’s up. But then again, if they hear the moans coming from Kiri’s luscious mouth, maybe they’ll think twice about it. 

As you use one hand to massage Kiri’s sobbing wet balls and stroke what Mina can’t fit in her mouth, you watch as your beautiful friend-turned-girlfriend gags on your sexy friend-turned-boyfriend’s dick. She’s an expert at it, taking him with ease, little gagging and slurping sounds leaving her lips.

Spit drips from her lips and down Kiri’s shaft, spilling into your palm and making your hand extra slick. Only the sounds of Mina’s mouth and Kiri’s wanton moans and grunts fill the air with the bumping of the music muffled from downstairs. 

Finally, Mina comes up for air with a big gasp, popping off of Kiri’s cock with a wet pop! She smiles at you, lips slick with saliva. “And now we switch again. You take him in your throat while I stroke him.”

You practically pounce on Kiri, devouring his dick like it’s your last meal. You take him in your open throat, breathing through your nose, and welcoming Kiri’s hips bumping up into your mouth. “Yeah,” he raspily grunts, “take it, baby girl. Take my dick.” 

The dirty, praise-filled words leaving his lips that are usually reserved for words to make you smile, laugh, and encourage you makes you sobbing wet, so much so that you slowly grind against nothing just to try to ease the aching in your poor, needy clit.

Mina’s hand curls around the back of your neck. “So eager, aren’t you?” she whispers, her eyes drinking in the way you take Kiri’s cock. “Is it okay if I push your head down?” 

“Mmm-hmm!” you mumble, nodding your head for extra measure. Mina giggles at this, moving her hand to spank one cheek. “Naughty girl.” Her hand places itself at the back of your head, gently pushing your throat farther down Kiri’s dick until you’re gagging around it and tears prick the corner of your eyes. 

Kiri is a mess underneath you, grabbing your shoulders, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Mina keeps her head there, giving you the naughtiest words of encouragement that are worthy of a porno. “Yes, baby girl, gag on that dick,” she whispers in your ear. “Take all of it the way you want to. Make him fucking scream for you.” 

You do so, moving your head up and down as much as Mina will allow you, stroking Kiri’s dick with your throat. He grows bigger, thicker, in your mouth, and you know it’s only a matter of time until he cums. “Fuck me!” he gasps loudly, the volume of his voice going straight to your core. “Wait, wait, Y/N, baby, stop!”

His pleas make Mina’s hand fall from your head and you release him. You look up at him, curious as to why he wants you to stop before he could cum down your throat. He stares down at both of you, chest heaving, crimson eyes glowing in the moonlight. “Fuck, you both got me so close. You’re both so good at sucking cock!” 

Mina glances at you, wiggling her brows. “Oooh, you hear that, Y/N? First time and you’ve already got him fiending for you.” You let out a breathless giggle, happy with that fact. “So why not let yourself cum in our mouths?” Mina innocently asks Kiri, tilting her head to the side. 

Kiri smirks at her. “Because we’ve barely gotten started. I haven’t even tasted either of you for myself.” 

  You shiver in anticipation, wanting whatever he’s giving. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” Mina giggles and helps you stand on wobbly legs from kneeling for too long. “Maybe you should go first, Y/N. After all, this is new for you too.” She gets on the bed next to Kiri, spreading her toned legs for you to lay in between. “Just lean back against me.” 

You don’t have to be told again. You scramble to get up on the bed to join them and lean against Mina, your back against her front. “Let Kiri get a good look at these pretty little panties,” she hums, her fingers moving to pry your legs apart so your panties are on full display. “He’s practically salivating for a taste of these lips.” 

Her fingers play with your panty-covered pussy for a few seconds, warming you up and making you crazy from not feeling her soft fingers against your naked pussy. Finally, she moves your panties to the side, the fabric covering your lips coming back shiny with your wetness. Kiri’s eyes widen an inch from seeing how wet you are, especially when Mina’s index and middle fingers gently dip into the wetness.

“M-Mina!” you moan, throwing your head back against her shoulder. She softly giggles, her fingers gently moving upward to toy with your clit, rubbing it in gentle circles. 

“Fuck,” Kiri growls, primal and insane with arousal. He gets into position, moving his head between your thighs but never ducking down to taste you for himself. Instead, he looks at you, asking for permission with his molten hot gaze. “Tell me what you want from me, baby girl. Tell me where you want my mouth before I lose my fucking mind.” 

Mina’s ministrations and his gaze don’t allow your mind to think clearly, too clouded by need and arousal. “I…” 

“You want them on your lips?” Kiri lowly asks before moving to plant a kiss on your mouth. “Or maybe not there…but on your gorgeous tits?” His hands slowly move to take down the straps to your bra, causing your pretty breasts to gently fall out. He pulls the cups down lower so he can suck your tits right, his tongue swirling around the hardened peaks of your nipples. When he nibbles at one with those damn teeth, it damn near makes you crazy. 

You let out a strained moan and a whimper, toes curling at the feeling. “You like that?” Kiri asks, voice slightly muffled by his lips against your tits. “God yes!” you cry out as he continues, his mouth like a drug to you as Mina continues to play with your clit, your pussy gushing.

Finally, she stops and moves to suck on her fingers, humming at your taste. “Don’t tease my poor girl, Eji,” she huffs. “Give her what she wants.” 

Kiri raises a brow up at her, moving from your tits. “Someone’s impatient and she isn’t the one getting touched yet.” Mina pouts at him. “You’re damn right,” she answers impatiently. “I’m dying to see how she looks writhing against your tongue.” 

Kiri chuckles, still not moving to touch or taste your aching, sobbing wet pussy. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he murmurs to you, eyes locked on yours. “Say it to me.”

With his laser stare on you, it makes it hard to say the words, but the ache in your clit eggs you on. “I…I want…” You swallow hard, getting up the nerve to tell him to his handsome face. “I want your mouth on my pussy.” 

Kiri’s face brightens with realization. “Oh? I can do that.” He grins at you before ducking down, groaning at your shining, wet lips. “Fuck, you’re wet! Better not let this go to waste then.” He swoops in, his soft lips cushioning and pressing against your clit as his tongue dips inside you, swirling around, up and down. 

“O-Oh, fuck!” you choke out, the pleasure hightening your senses. Mina giggles from behind you as her hands curl around your front to toy with your breasts. “Does he feel good, pretty girl?” she asks, her index finger and thumb on both hands gently pinching your nipples. You cry out in response, too gone to give her a real answer. She laughs happily. “I guess that’s a yes.” 

Kiri is truly a champ when it comes to eating pussy. He laps at your wetness, alternating between gently sucking at your clit to dipping inside, his nose pressing deliciously against your clit.

Finally, he pulls away enough to speak, his lips coated in your juices. “Fuck, you taste so good!” he moans. “Such a good girl, giving me so much honey to taste.” He moves his index and middle fingers up to your mouth and wordlessly, you suck on them, coating them in your spit. 

He takes them out and slowly, very slowly, plunges them inside of you, curling them upward. Your toes curl and your back arches, the sounds leaving your lips sounding so unlike you. Who is this needy little slut in your place? “But, of course, you should know, only a naughty girl would want her pussy eaten and grinding her hips back into my face like this.” Kiri grins up at you. “Don’t you think so, baby girl?” 

He goes back to sucking on your clit for a few seconds, his fingers slowly moving in and out until he reaches that spot inside of you that makes you see heaven. “Oh, God, Kiri!” you practically scream. 

“Oh, I think so,” he giggles into your pussy. Fuck, even his giggles are hot! “I think your pussy thinks so too. She just keeps gushing around my tongue. How about we make you feel even better, hm?”

With that he slowly takes his fingers out of your wet depths and slides his tongue down your slit to your asshole, wet from your juices dripping down. Kiri? Eating ass? You knew he was an ass guy (hence being with Mina), but you didn’t know it was like that! 

His work on your asshole and pussy have you seeing stars, the sounds leaving you unable to be contained. Mina comments on them, cooing at you teasingly. “Aw, listen to those sounds you’re making! At this rate, someone will definitely find us up here. You just can’t help but let out those slutty sounds.” 

You turn slightly so you’re facing her pussy now and Kiri has to throw one of your legs over his shoulder to eat you out from the side. You press your hand against Mina’s panty-covered slit, the fabric wet and making it easy for friction. She gasps at the feeling of your fingers, her eyes going wide. “Oh, fuck!” she shouts, her voice loud and high. 

Kiri laughs at his girlfriend’s lewd sounds. “Now who’s got the slutty sounds? Trying to make her hit a high note, are you, Y/N?” 

You continue to rub Mina’s cunt, smiling at her whimpers and soft moans. “You…you sneaky little…” She inhales sharply, her words cut off by the pleasure. “I-If you’re gonna do that, at least move my panties out of the way.”

You raise a brow. “Oh?” you hum as you move her panties to the side, revealing her pink, puffy lips slick with wetness to you. “Like this?” 

Your fingers touch her clit gently, rubbing it in slow circles. Mina’s body lurches at the contact and a gasp leaves her pretty lips. “Yeah!” she gasps out. “Yeah, just like that!”

She grinds her hips into your hand, giving you better access to rubbing her clit, applying as much pressure as she wants. Her face is so pretty the way it’s screwed up in pleasure, eyebrows knitted and eyes closed. 

Kiri watches you intently and you can feel his cock stiffening against your inner thigh. “Fuck…you sure I can’t just watch you two do that?” he chuckles, but still ducks down to kiss your pussy. “Move that hand, cutie. Let me take it from here.” 

You do as he says and he proceeds to rub Mina’s clit with precision, going as fast as she wants him to. As he does that, he ducks down to suck on your clit, never letting up because that’s not Kiri’s way. You and Mina’s moans and whimpers fill the air, soft gasps and words of “please”, “faster”, and Kiri’s full name falling from your lips. 

You suddenly feel that pleasure building in your core, signaling your joyous end. “Oh, my God, Ejirou!” you cry out, using Kiri’s full government name. “I think…I think I’m gonna…” The words die in your throat.

Kiri looks up, eyes fucking feral. “You’re gonna cum, baby girl, hm? Go ahead. Give it to me. I can take all of it! Cum for me!” He ducks down to assault your clit again as his rubs against Mina’s clit get faster. 

“M-Me too!” Mina gasps out, her hips wining into her boyfriend’s hand. “Keep rubbing my clit like that, baby, and I’ll…” Her head falls back, mouth a silent O. You can feel that feeling rising, that bubble about to burst.

“No!” you desperately cry out. “No, stop!”

Kiri slowly moves his lips away from your pussy, confused. “No…?” 

He even slows down his hand on Mina’s clit. “No, no, please!” she cries out, whimpering as the pleasure dies. “Oh, fuck, I was so close, babe! Why did you…?” 

You move away from her and Kiri, sitting up on your knees to look into their eyes. “I want us all to cum together,” you softly confess despite the flush you feel at such a lewd confession. You look at Kiri, taking his hands in yours. “I want to finally feel that dick inside of me, and watch you fuck Mina too.” Your eyes lock with his, begging him to promise to do this for you. “I want you to make us cum like that.”

Kiri blinks at you, dumbfounded, and then his gaze darkens. “Fuck,” he exhales. “But how would we do that? I only have one dick, in case you didn’t realize it.” He nods down at the hardened extra leg he’s packing between his muscled thighs. 

Mina is one step ahead. She swoops in to peck Kiri on the lips. “I’ve got an idea,” she giggles and looks at you. “Babe, lay down for me.” You do so, laying on your back on the soft comforter, the fabric smelling faintly of lavender detergent.

Mina smiles. “Perfect.” She gets on top of you, throwing her soft, luscious legs on either side of your hips. She then arches her back and moves up to hover you, her tits now in your face. 

“Now, Kiri,” she purrs, “you get behind her so her pussy and my ass are right in your face. Perfect for switching between, right?” She wiggles her ass around enticingly and Kiri’s eyes follow her hips, hypnotized. 

“Ahh, I’ve got you,” he hums, moving as fast as the speed of light to settle himself behind Mina as she straddles you. This has got to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and I get to be a part of it? Fuck, that just about makes me wanna burst!” His enthusiasm is enough to make you laugh. 

“Uh-uh, not yet, daddy,” Mina gently scolds, and you swear Kiri and you share the same mind because you both look at Mina like she’s a plate of the finest dessert as soon as she says that. “Not until you fuck us both.” She looks down at you with a grin. “I wanna see this cutie explode all over your fat dick.” 

Her words and the anticipation drive you wild, your pussy gushing and clenching around nothing but air. “God, just fuck me now before I lose my shit!” you desperately plead, grinding your hips up into Mina. 

Kiri chuckles darkly, cracking his neck as he gently strokes his dick. “With pleasure,” he growls. “Put your hips up, baby.” You do so, lifting your hips so he can grasp them and align himself with you. “Good girl.”

His hand sneaks up Mina’s ass to spank her, the sharp sound making your pussy clench. “Fuck, this ass is just too perfect,” he murmurs, spanking Mina again who moans in delight. 

“As hot as this is, baby,” Mina breathlessly says, “I want to see Y/N bounce on your dick, if you don’t mind.” The third spank he gives her is sharper now, making her hiss at the contact. “Hush, you bratty girl,” he growls to her and she buttons her lip, a secretive smile on her face. Seeing them play this game, have this dynamic right in front of you, is the hottest shit ever. 

Kiri’s eyes glint at you as he looks down at you. “You ready, gorgeous?” he questions. You nod, even murmuring a “yes” in case he wants verbal consent. “And you know we can stop at any time, right?” he asks, eyes serious. Once again, you say “yes” and he needs no more persuasion to grasp your hips and slowly push his cock head into your pussy, separating your wet lips. 

Your eyes widen, feeling full already. Your hand immediately goes to grasp his muscled arm while the other grabs Mina’s thigh. “K-Kiri!” you belt out. Kiri is barely hanging on, eyebrows knitted and muscles clenched. “Fuck, you’re so tight!” he yells out, but manages to keep still enough to allow you time to adjust. “You okay?” 

“Y-Yeah,” you breathe out, welcoming Mina’s comforting rubs on the outside of your thigh. “Just give me a minute?” Kiri nods, staying put. “Of course.” Your ex wasn’t as well endowed as Kiri, so you’ll definitely need a few minutes to adjust. Kiri gives you that, coaxing you to relax and even moving underneath Mina’s body to rub your clit. His paitence, and Mina’s words of encouragement, allow your body to relax fully. 

“Okay,” you finally say. “Just go slow. You’re really big.” Kiri grins at your words. “Just take your time, baby girl. There’s no rush. We have all night for this.”

Before you can bring up this being Dynamite’s bedroom, Kiri growls out, “Fuck Bakugou” before pushing inside of you more. He goes slow, but still, you can feel the stretch and the slight burn as your walls stretch around him. You’re just glad you’re wetter than a lake at this point, allowing it to be easier with how slick you are. 

“Can you take him, baby?” Mina asks into your ear.” Yeah? You need a little help? How about I suck on these pretty nipples in my face?” She ducks to suck on your nipples, her strawberry-scented scalp in your nose. “And let me rub that cute little clit.” Her fingers move to play with your clit as Kiri moves out and then back in, nice and slow. 

Once he has that rhythm, he has it and he never lets it go. His hips slowly move against yours, his stroke game fucking immaculate. And Mina gets to feel this all the time?

Kiri’s dick has you seeing stars, the entire fucking galaxy exploding behind your eyelids as he strokes those parts inside of you that have you moaning and taking the Lord’s name in vain. “Oh, my God, Eji, yes!” you cry out, not caring if people hear you. Anyone would be this loud if they could get a feel of Red Riot’s dick inside of them. 

“Ohhh, yes, that’s good,” Kiri groans, still going slow. “You’re taking me…even deeper…you’re doing so good, baby, oh, my God!” He is vocal, never shutting up, and that makes you even wetter, allowing you to take him deeper. “Fuck me harder!” you cry out, your other hand letting go of Mina’s thigh to grasp Kiri’s other arm. “Please, Kiri, please!” 

Kiri does so, wanting to please you. His hips snap against yours a little harder, his stomach rubbing up against your clit. “Such a slutty girl,” Mina giggles, lips hovering over yours. “That’s it, baby, take that dick. Let yourself relax into him. Put a hand on that throat, Kiri. She likes that too.” You stare up at her, eyes wide and open-mouthed. “Oops!” she snickers. “Did I say that?” Oh, this bitch… 

Kiri obliges, wrapping a hand around your throat, but not squeezing. “Like that, gorgeous?” he asks, his voice dipping lower into a growl that sends your tummy into butterflies. “Hm? Is this what you fucking want?”

Fuck, if you get any wetter, you’re gonna soak the bed. “Yes! God, yes!” you scream out, unable to keep quiet from the sheer pleasure you’re feeling. 

Kiri continues to fuck you as he presses a kiss to Mina’s hair. “I’ll give you anything you want,” he groans. “Both of you. I’ll fuck you in every fucking way possible.”

His sweet yet sensual words awaken something inside of you. Something just as primal. “Promise?” you ask, biting the flesh of your bottom lip. 

Kiri’s hot gaze locks on you as he rolls his hips into you. “I fucking swear.” Mina moans from above you, her tits jiggling every time Kiri thrusts into you. “Keep saying shit like that and I’ll cum before you’ve gotten inside me.” 

Kiri immediately stops his movements. “Oh, no, the fuck you won’t.” He slips out of you slowly, making you feel empty. “Let’s take a break, babe. This bratty bitch still needs the same treatment, doesn’t she?”

He takes a handful of Mina’s hair and wrenches her hair back, Mina letting out a surprised gasp at the sudden switch in personality. He grins down at you, looking like a damn villian. “Watch me fuck her up.” 

With that, he aligns himself with Mina’s pussy and slides inside, only sticking his head in. Mina’s mouth falls open into a pretty O as her back arches. “Oh, fuck!” she shouts. “P-Please…go slow. I wanna feel you go in slow.” 

Kiri smiles brightly at this, pressing a kiss to her back. “Of course, babe.” He proceeds to slide into her slow, painfully slow, stretching her pretty, pink pussy out. “Anything…you…want.” Moans and whimpers fall from Mina’s lips as he begins to roll his hips into her ass. He looks down at you, one hand moving to palm your breast. “How about you, gorgeous? Want me to do something for you?” 

Your eyes drink in Mina, the sight of her like art–her dark-pink nipples hard, pretty tits jiggling in your face, toned stomach glinting with sweat where you’re sure she can feel Kiri’s dick. “Just fuck her harder,” you breathe out.

Kiri smiles anything but kind. “I can do that.” And does that he can. He fucks Mina right above you, hips snapping into her ass just the way she likes it. “Yeah, you like that, Mina?” he coos, hand still gripping her hair. 

Mina is fucking gone, eyes closed and mouth open. “Y-Yeah…that feels so good! Harder, daddy, please!”

Her using that title again makes Kiri fuck her harder, pounding her pussy until the sound of skin slapping and bed springs bouncing are all that fill the air besides Mina and Kiri’s lewd moans. You find yourself rubbing your clit at the show taking place above you, indulging in the best kind of porn as Kiri bounces the both of you with his thrusts. 

He chuckles as he looks down at your tits jiggle. “Look at you, babe: bouncing every time I fuck her. It’s almost like I’m fucking you too. Almost…” He stops and slides out of Mina despite her mewl of disappointment. “But not quite. You didn’t feel that stretch, did you, baby girl?” Without getting an answer, he slides into you again. “Now you do.” 

Your eyes go wide at the sudden feeling of being filled again, but he doesn’t give you a chance to process it before he’s fucking you again, hips rolling mercilessly into you. “Oh, my God!” you yell out, throwing your head back against the mattress.

Kiri grabs onto Mina’s hips, bumping her ass into him as he fucks you silly. “Fuck, the two of you are so fucking sexy,” he moans out. “I-I don’t know how long I can keep this up.” 

The need for his cum filling you up makes you desperate. Needy. Willing to say and do anything for it. “You can cum!” you yell out. “You can cum inside me! I’m on the pill!” 

Mina giggles from above you. “Me too. Eager little cumslut, aren’t you?” She dips down to assault your neck, palming at your breasts and rubbing her thumbs over the sensitive nubs of your nipples. 

But Kiri stops and slides out of you despite your moans of protest. “Nah,” he huffs. “Not yet. I still have to make sure you two get equal attention, don’t you? So I’m gonna keep switching back and forth between these pretty little pussies until you’re both ready to explode for me, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer as he slides into Mina and rams into her, beating her pussy up. “Kiri, please!” she cries out, and you understand. Pleading for more and for less all at the same time, the pleasure too sweet. 

“You two just keep feeling good for me,” Kiri pants, every muscle coated in sweat. “Can you both do that for me?” He suddenly moves to lift one of Mina’s legs and fucks her that way, giving you a good view of her pussy stretching around his dick that slides in and out of her.

“Oh, my God, yes!” Mina cries out, tears pricking in her eyes at the pleasure. She looks down at you and you swear she’s never looked more beautiful. “Kiss me, baby. I wanna taste you.” 

You oblige, moving to kiss her as your hand moves against your clit, fingers rubbing the bud faster and faster until you can feel that dam about to break. “Oh, fuck, I’m so close!” you shout. “Please tell me you two are close!” Kiri nods frantically, teeth gritted at the feeling. “Yeah!” he stutters out. “S-So, so close!” 

But Mina stops you both. “Wait, Kiri. Stop.” He listens, his face coated in sweat and disappointment. “Oh, fuck, why? I was so, so close!” You were as well, the sweet feeling of release dying as you stop rubbing your clit. 

Mina looks back at him. “Because we wanna cum at the same time, right?” she purrs. “So why don’t you slip that dick out of me and put it between us instead? And you can still fuck us until we cum. With extra clit stimulation.” She turns to you, winking. “Does that sound good to the both of you?” 

Does that sound good to you? Shit, you’re just about the cum from the idea. “Fuck, Mina…” You squirm around beneath her, wanting to cum with them so badly. Kiri laughs at your neediness. “This cutie is practically begging for that. I’m down for it.”

He slips out of Mina and aligns his dick to meet your pussies just right. “Now hold still for me.”

You both do, waiting as patiently as humanly possible for him to finally slide his dick between your pussies. But when he finally does, you’re not prepared. The feeling of his hard dick stroking your clit between you and Mina as you grind your hips immediately, up and around, anything to get that release.

“Perfect,” Kiri grunts, hips rolling with yours. “Fucking perfect. Does it feel good for you girls as it does for me?” 

“So…so good!” Mina moans out, her hips grinding down into Kiri’s dick. “I can’t stop!” You know what she means. Your hips and your body have minds of their own, moving for that pleasure.

“Does it feel good for you too, babe?” Kiri asks, but you can’t speak. You can only answer with the lewdest sounds you’ve ever come out of your mouth; sounds that would put Mariah Carey’s career in a casket. 

Kiri and Mina laugh at your sounds much to your embarrassment. “I guess it does judging from those high notes,” he snickers, hips moving faster, harder. “You both needed this, didn’t you? A nice fucking for two pretty little sluts.” 

“Keep fucking us like that and we’ll show you how much we needed it,” Mina softly growls, just as feral as you. He does so, grabbing Mina’s shoulder and your thigh before fucking the shit of you both, his cock mercilessly stroking your clits.

“Yeah, like that!” you yell out, practically babbling and drunk from the pleasure. “Keep fucking us like that, daddy!” 

Kiri’s eyes snap to yours at the title, his crimson eyes blown with pleasure. “Tell me whose you are,” he growls deeply. “Both of you. Tell me who’s making you feel this good.”

He leans down, squishing Mina between the both of you, and presses his lips to your ear as he ruts deeper between you. “Tell me,” he growls deeply in your ear. 

That release builds again, increasing from Kiri’s controlled movements and Mina’s noises in your ear. “Fuck, Eji, please!” you sob, your hips beginning to stutter and move sloppily. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum!” 

“M-Me too!” Mina whines into your ear, her tits squished against yours and bouncing in time with you and the mattress as Kiri ruts between your pussies. “Oh, my God, I-I can’t stop!” Her body begins to writhe against yours and she grabs you, wrapping her arms around you as Kiri fucks the everloving shit out of you. 

“Such good little girls for me,” he growls from above you, going faster and faster, signaling his own dawning release. “So good! I’m gonna cum all over your pretty little pussies.” He thros his head back, lost in the pleasure, moaning to the ceiling, most of them being your names. “Fuck…fuck…fuck!” 

When it cums, it’s messier than messy. You can feel his hot cum spurt out of his dick and coat your pussy and Mina’s. The sounds that fall from his lips trigger your own release and you tumble down that hill, falling into an abyss of pure bliss. Mina falls with you, whining and moaning into your ear as her hips slow their grind.

“O-Oh, f-fuck!” she stutters out, gripping you for dear life. “S-So…so good…!” You silently agree, gripping her ass and grinding with her, riding that blissful wave. 

“Still cumming!” Kiri moans from above you, hips still going and going. “So much!” You can feel it–ropes and ropes of hot cum spilling onto your stomach and onto the comforter as he gives you about a week’s worth of nut. Finally, after letting out a groan that would make any girl blush, his movements slow and stills, breathing heavily. 

You lean back against the comforter, exhaustion overtaking you. Above you, Mina laughs hysterically. “Damn, daddy!” she giggles, wiggling her ass into an exhausted Kiri. “You practically soaked the comforter!”

Slowly, Kiri pulls away from you and Mina slowly gets off of you, revealing the very large mess of bodily fluids that coat the black comforter. 

The laugh that erupts from you is loud and abrupt, and you’re taken aback by the reaction when you should be horrified. But the bliss you feel from that earth-shattering orgasm and that your two crushes reciprocating your feelings doesn’t allow you to. “Bakugou is gonna kill us,” you giggle.  

Kiri laughs with you, wiping sweat from his forehead. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he sighs, looking down at you and at Mina adoringly. “That was amazing.”

Mina hums in agreement, gently running her hand down your naked tummy. “It absolutely was,” she says with a smile. “Talk about a good distraction from your shit ex, hm?” 

You couldn’t agree more. “Mmm,” you hum in agreement, orgasm-sedated exhaustion settling in. You try to sit up and need Kiri’s help, your limbs feeling flimsy and jell-O-like. “Easy there, cutie,” he whispers encouragingly. Slowly, now.” 

“Let me go get us some water,” Mina says, letting Kiri help her off the bed so she can walk to the private bathroom. She turns shortly after with two glasses of water, one of them being for you. “Here, baby. Drink up.” 

You thank her, gladly taking the glass and gulping down the sweet, cold water. Her and Kiri share the other before Kiri crawls up to the headboard and settles under the covers. He smiles lazily at both of you, arms open wide. “Come here, both of you. We all need a good snuggle.” You giggle as you crawl towards him alongside Mina. “Glad to see you’re not too manly for cuddles.” 

Kiri looks at you like you’re insane. “You shitting me? Cuddles are for everybody.” You take one side while Mina takes the other, curling at his side. “That was better than my wildest dreams,” he sighs, enclosing his arms around both of you, holding you close to him. Mina hums in agreement, her hand moving to cup yours on Kiri’s chest, right over his beating heart.  

You let out a content sigh, loving this feeling of bliss. The smell of mingling scents–sex, perfume, cologne–fill your nose as you cuddle into Kiri’s side and let Mina rub circles into your knuckles with her thumb, feeling safe. But even so, that nagging feeling of something bothering you doesn’t allow you to fall so deeply into the peace. 

You nervously look at Kiri and Mina, biting your lip. “So…does this mean we’re all dating now?” you carefully ask. “You’re my girlfriend and my boyfriend?”

Kiri and Mina look at each other before looking at you. “Yeah,” Mina brightly answers, breaking into a beautiful smile that eases every insecurity and uncertainty you felt. “If that’s okay with you.” 

You blink at her, almost not believing it was that easy. “It’s…” You trail off, scoffing to yourself. This is way better than a dream. “It’s more than okay with me.” You grip Mina’s hand and press a kiss to Kiri’s pec, making him hum. “Good,” he sighs, “‘cause I would’ve jumped from the nearest building if it wasn’t.” 

As you and Mina giggle, giddy from the sex and the way the night has turned out and this, there is a loud, harsh knock at the door that startles you. Kiri sits up immediately, protectively shifting so he’s covering your naked chest with his body and throws the covers over Mina to hide her from the chin down. 

The door is opening before any of you can protest. Bakugou’s raspy and slurred voice drifts into the bedroom as he opens the door. “Yo, shitty hair! What the fuck is with those bed springs jumping? You’d better not be–” 

His words cut off immediately as he gets a good look at the way his guest room looks–clothes on the floor, comforter a mess, and the three of you naked and occupying the bed, staring wide-eyed at him like deers in headlights.

He steps back into the doorway and grabs the door handle. “I’ll kill you all later,” he growls before shutting the door behind him, leaving you alone once more. 

Silence swells in the room before you three erupt in laughter, so much so that your stomach hurts. “We’re never gonna live this down now, you know that, right?” Kiri asks through a fit of giggles. “He’s never gonna let us come back here.” 

Mina wipes at her eyes, leaning up to stare into your eyes. “I’ll gladly take the fall for that,” she sighs contently. “Especially for more of this.” She moves to stroke your arm lovingly as Kiri wraps an arm around you, holding you even closer. 

You couldn’t agree more with that statement and finally, you allow yourself to fall into the bliss that sleep brings, cuddled up with the two you trust most.

Finally.

THE END.

“Would ya look at what we’ve got tonight, Bakugou,” Eijirou Kirishima aka Kiri cackles, a menacing look in his eyes. “An angel has come to bless us! Wonder what good deed we did.”

Bakugou Katsuki turns to look at his longtime boyfriend behind his Ghostface mask. Seeing the ghostly mask makes you shiver in fear, but nothing scares you more than when Bakugou reveals his hardened vermillion eyes and unfortunately handsome face as he takes off the mask. “Hardly good,” he huffs. “I don’t remember puttin’ you on our guest list. What, you sneak in?”

He cocks his head to the side as he sizes you up, staring you down like you’re no more than an ant. Kiri stares you down too, his pierced lip caught between his teeth as his eyes crawl over your body.

You look between the two men, so tall, big, and buff, your nerves frazzled. You never would’ve expected a night of fun for Halloween to turn into one of terror when you’ve found yourself stuck in a locked room with the two most popular athletes and frat boys on campus...

Who also happen to be your high school bullies.

God, how you hate them! They used to poke fun and pester you any chance they got back in high school. They’d pull at your skirt and try to lift it in the hallways. They’d steal your books and write dirty notes in them. They’d laugh at your embarrassment and humiliation when they’d call you in gym class and tell you how tight your uniform was on you.

They seemed so hellbent on making the four years of high school a living hell for you. It got to the point where you’d skip classes they were in or hide in the bathroom at lunch to avoid running into them. You were so happy when you finally graduated. Now you can go to college and be away from them!

However, you were wrong. So, so wrong. You should’ve known they’d apply to the same university to continue their education. You should’ve known they’d form their own fraternity with Denki Kaminari and Sero Hanata, your friend and roommate’s boyfriend. While they were kind to you, Bakugou and Kiri were anything but.

You made it your mission to avoid them at all costs. You thought that you were doing a pretty good job until your friend decided to drag you out of the house for a costume party and decided not to tell you that it was being thrown by her boyfriend’s fraternity. You could choke her!

You stare down nervously at your high-heeled boots, black and sexy. “N-No,” you whisper.

Bakugou slams his hand against the door above your head, nearly knocking off the fake, glittery halo attached. “Huh?” He barks. “I can’t hear you, girl. Speak the fuck up! We’re the only ones here!” You flinch at the aggression, your pulse jumping wildl.

“Chilllax, Bakubro,” Kiri chuckles, pulling the blonde back. “She’s just a little nervous. It ain’t everyday she’s in one room with two guys, I’m sure.” A sly smile appears on his lips, his sharp teeth glinting menacingly. “Or am I wrong?”

You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to be here. Oh, God, why did your friend have to bring you here? Why did you have to venture off to find a bathroom and walk into the wrong room? “No,” you softly repeat.

Kiri’s eyebrows, one of them pierced, raise in interest. “No, I’m wrong?” He cackles, nudging Bakugou in the side. “Damn, sweetheart, you get down like that?”

Your face flames and you quickly shake your head. “N-No, I mean…I didn’t sneak in. My friend brought me here.” You revert back to your high school self, shy, awkward, and nervous. Just wanting to go through each day without any trouble.

Bakugou’s brows narrow. Like Kiri, one of his brows is also pierced. Both frat boys are littered in piercings and tattoos that ink their muscles. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he growls. “What, you didn’t wanna come? You too good for us?”

Your eyes, framed by faux lashes and glittery silver eyeshadow, widen at the assumption. “No!” You immediately reply.

Kiri tuts, crossing his beefy arms over his broad chest. “Ooooh, I think she’s lying,” he sing-songs. “I think she thinks she’s a lot better than us. A lot more…innocent.” He says the word in a lecherous fashion that makes your skin crawl. “Why else would she dress up in this? Damn, can this skirt get any tighter?”

“And shorter,” Bakugou adds. “Bend over just an inch and you’ll be flashin’ the whole party. Little slut. Just like all the bitches in here.”

Referring to the guests at their party, you were met with dozens of slutty cats, devils, schoolgirls, and cheerleaders when you arrived. Your friend came as an angel, similar to you, and made you wear a skimpy white corset top paired with a mini skirt that barely covers your ass, white pantyhose, boots, and fake angel wings that track glitter everywhere.

You knew this costume was a mistake. You never should’ve worn it. You don’t wear “barely there” outfits or even go out of your dorm unless you can help it! Why’d you have to listen to your friend’s “YOLO/you deserve to let loose” speech?!

“I-I’m not a slut,” you whimper, looking away from your bullies. Bakugou’s jaw clenches at your back talk and he leans in, getting in your face. “What’d you say, extra?” He growls, using that insult you always hated. “You wanna argue about it? I hurt your little feelings?”

You press yourself further against the locked door, your heart pounding like the bass of the music downstairs. “I know all about your kind,” he scoffs, a dry smirk on his lips. “You act all innocent and prudish, but in reality, you’re just a sick, nasty little pervert. Who else wears an outfit like this?”

He tugs on your skirt, nearly pulling it down. You squeak, snatching it away from him. “It wasn’t my idea!” You protest, unshod tears stinging your eyes. “M-My friend made me—“

“Uh-uh, don’t blame your friend,” Kiri interrupts. “You’re a big girl. You could’ve said no…but you didn’t want to. You wanted to come here and get the eyes of all the boys.” His vermillion eyes narrow at you. “Didn’t you, you slutty bitch?”

You flinch at the insult, the tears rising. You cannot cry in front of these two. You won’t!

“Speakin’ of that guest list, Bakugou is right: we didn’t put you on the list. Your friend, yeah, ‘cause she’s dating Sero, but not you.” Kiri laughs to himself, his eyes glazing over your body. “I’m shocked you even came out of your boring little dorm and got your nose out of them books.”

Bakugou sniggers, his eyes also grazing over every part of your body—your legs; your stomach peeking out from under your corset; your soft breasts; your thighs. You’re not sure if you like it or not.

You’re not sure if you like being the center of attention of these two hot and powerful yet menacing forces. You’re not sure if you like how they’re making your body feel either—tight nipples, tingly skin, pounding heart, and wet pu—

“I-I’m sorry, okay?” You stammer, putting your hands up in defense. They’re shaking. “My friend dragged me here and Sero let me in, but I can leave.”

Quickly, your hand moves to dig into your sparkly silver bag for your phone. You need to text your friend. Sero. Anyone. “I’ll just go and—“

“Whoa, whoa!” Kiri says. His big hand shoots out to snatch your phone away, holding it out of reach of you. “Hold up, sweetheart. Just where do you think ya goin’?” You try to reach for it, but he holds it up and dangles it, grinning down at your short stack self.

Distracted, Bakugou takes the opportunity to snatch your bag away, holding it hostage . You panic, your breathing coming out in puffs. The door is locked. Your phone is gone. And now your bag is in your bully’s clutches too!

Can you scream? Are you brave enough to do that? Would anyone even hear you?

Bakugou’s narrow, sharp eyes stop you short from trying. “You think you can just walk into OUR house, into OUR party, drink up OUR booze and then leave?” he snarls. “You’re not even a guest…more like a trespasser.”

Kiri slowly nods in agreement, sizing you up like a wolf about to pounce and eat you alive. “And we don’t like trespassers,” he hums. “We teach people like you a lesson.”

Like a deer caught in headlights, your eyes widen. What are they going to do to you? Suddenly, Bakugou grabs your arm and snatches you away from the door. You gasp, nearly tripping over your boots, but you manage to steady yourself. You now stand in the middle of the room with both of your bullies surrounding you, Bakugou’s big body blocking the door.

Now the tears begin to rise. You can’t stop the stupid, fat, salty things from dripping down your cheeks. Bakugou laughs at the sight. “Oh, she’s cryin’!” He guffaws. “Damn, it didn’t take much, did it?”

The two surround you like predators. You’re a gazelle in the Savanna, weak and fragile—just what the big, bad, vicious animals hiding in the jungle want. “Please,” you whimper. “Stop it.”

Kiri coos, gripping your chin to force you to look at him. “Stop what, mama?” He teasingly asks, smirking at you. “We ain’t even do anythin’ yet and you’re shakin’ like a leaf. C’mooon, don’t be like that.”

His hand drops from your face to hold your hand, his grip tight and firm. “Show us that pretty costume, huh? Give us a twirl.” He grins at you, flashing you his sharp, pearly whites.

You turn to Bakugou who stares at you like he’s deciding whether or not to slice and dice you. “Do as he says,” he demands.

Sniffling, you do as they want. Kiri twirls you around slowly, showing you off to himself and Bakugou. He makes a show of flipping up your skirt and smacking your ass, moaning at the sight of your red thong underneath. “Nice undies, baby girl,” he condescendingly comments. “And here, I thought you decided not to wear any panties.”

He continues to show you off, both him and Bakugou laughing at your expense. You silently cry to yourself, feeling humiliated. You’re standing on the auction block now, about to be sold to the highest bidder and—

Click.

You abruptly turn to Bakugou who is holding his phone up, a bright light washing over you from the camera “W-What’s that?” You gasp even though you already know. “No, please! Why are you recording me?”

You race to stop him, but Kiri roughly pulls you back. “O-Ow!” You shout, his fingers digging into your arm.

“Ah-ah, hands off,” he tuts, his crimson eyes narrowed. “That isn’t a very angelic thing to do, baby girl. This is just your apology to us for not followin’ our rules.”

Bakugou tsks, finally stepping away from the locked door still holding his phone. “Nah,” he grunts. “She needs to be serious. I want this slut to really regret her decisions.” He shoots a look at Kiri who returns it with a wide, lecherous smirk.

You think you’re scared now? Girl, you’ve never been more terrified than when the two men begin to strip. You watch them with wide eyes, drinking in their naked bodies. They truly are big.

Big pecs. Big forearms. Big thighs. Big shoulders. Big everything, including those big, fat cocks hanging between their tree-trunk legs. You gape at them, unable to process what you’re seeing. You can’t believe it! Your bullies are naked and hard for you!

Bakugou stares at you with a lustful, dark expression that makes your stomach flip, his camera still on you. “Get on your knees and suck us off,” he demands. “And if you make us nut real good, maybe we’ll let ya go and forget all about this little video…unless you wanna become famous.”

A large smile appears on his lips, indicating that he has very bad intentions. “We can airdrop what we’ve got to our brothers and every single person at this party right now. I’m sure they’d think you look sexy too. The girls would even be jealous that you’re here with us instead of them.”

Fear bubbles inside of you. They wouldn’t…they couldn’t! ”No!” you beg. “No, please don’t! I’ll do whatever you want!”

Your two bullies stare at you expectantly, smirking. “Anything?” Kiri asks. Defeatedly, you nod.

The redhead then wraps a hand around his thick cock with its heavy balls and starts pumping. “Then start by gettin’ these cocks in your pretty mouth. Let’s give that mouth somethin’ else to do.”

Despite everything in you telling you no and the tears refusing to stop falling, you do as he demands.

You’ll find yourself on your knees minutes later pumping, stroking, slurping, and sucking your bullies’ thick cocks for what feels like hours. As they moan and voice how good, wet, and sloppy your mouth is, feeling pleasure, you’ll feel discomfort.

You wince as they grab your hair, knocking off your halo, forcing you back and forth between them. Your jaw aches from the constant stretching as they fuck your throat, filling it up with their length and girth. They use your mouth like it’s a fleshlight, sloppily and roughly fucking it until your throat is raw and your gag reflex nearly kicks in.

“Nicely done, angel,” Kiri chuckles as he watches Bakugou pound your throat. He holds Bakugou’s phone up, recording you getting your throat fucked. “I think she’s done this before, ‘Suki. She’s waaaay too good at suckin’ cock.”

Bakugou grunts in response, his hips pistoning away. You do your best to avoid grazing him with your teeth, not wanting to find out what will happen if you do. “Nice fuckin’ mouth,” he groans, his balls slapping against your chin. “You have done this shit before, haven’t ya, princess?”

“Mmm-mmm!” You protest, mumbling around his cock. Bakugou grips the back of your neck and forces you off of him before slapping you in the face with his cock. “Ya lyin’ little bitch,” he growls. “Don’t play with me. You know you’ve sucked dick before.”

Kiri begins to slap his big cock against the other side of your cheek, both of them coating your lips in pre-cum and spit. “Open wide, angel,” he teasingly coos, the camera in your face. “C’mon, give us somethin’ for the camera. Give these dicks a kiss and a nice suck.”

They continue to slap and tap their cocks against your cheeks and tongue, laughing cruelly at your trembling lips and mascara-stained cheeks. “You look so pretty like this, angel,” Kiri groans as he sinks back into your mouth.

“Such a good little slut, ain’t she?” Bakugou asks, taking his phone back to shove it in your face. “Wonder if she’s wet from all of this.” Kiri smirks at his boyfriend, a glint of interest in his red eyes. “Wanna find out?” He whispers. Bakugou smirks back and you know what you’re in for.

Minutes later, you’re spread out on the floor with your thighs forced apart, Kiri and Bakugou’s hands gripping either one to make sure you don’t close them. Kiri is between your legs first, slurping greedily at your pussy and nibbling at your thighs with his teeth. “Mmm, you taste so sweet, angel,” he mumbles into your cunt. “You’re givin’ me so much.”

You whine in response, trying not to writhe under Bakugou’s grip on your soft, fleshy thigh. “That’s ‘cause she’s a little slut,” he growls. “Just look at that expression. She’s so fuckin’ cumdrunk.” He looks down at you, his phone recording all over your lewd expressions. “Does it feel good gettin’ eaten out by your bullies?” he asks. “Tell the audience, princess.”

You open your eyes, looking into the camera lens. Bakugou shut off the flash so it’s easier on your sight and he can get the perfect shot of your pretty face. “Y-Yes,” you whimper just as Kiri sucks on your clit. You moan louder, unable to stop yourself. “Fuck, Kiri, please!”

Kiri laughs as he sucks on your clit with his soft lips, pulling away to give you a grin. “You beg so pretty for us, angel. Almost makes me feel sorry for pickin’ on ya.” His tongue gives you a long lick from your clit down to your asscrack and back up again to slurp on your clit. “Almost,” he adds, making Bakugou laugh.

While Kiri is still gentle with his pussy-eating, he is also merciless. Playful. Teasing. He knows just what spots to tease and stimulate until your body is writhing and twisting in pleasure, your core too tight and too warm. You feel like you’re about to burst, a sensation similar to needing to pee overtaking you. “W-Wait, Kiri!” you plea. “You’re goin’ too fast! I-I don’t wanna—“

Bakugou grips your throat, squeezing the words out of you. “You’d better not cum,” he demands. “I haven’t even gotten my tongue in there yet. Shitty hair, ease up and switch with me. She won’t be doin’ shit when I’m tongue fuckin’ her.”

Kiri pouts, but stops anyway and lets his boyfriend take his spot. Bakugou delivers on his promise as he sits between your thighs. He has them hiked up over his broad shoulders, his fingers digging into your ass as he greedily slurps at your gushing pussy. He doesn’t allow Kiri to touch any part of your cunt, rubbing your clit with his nose himself while he tongue fucks you.

“Katsuki,” you moan. “F-Fuck, please! Slow down!” Bakugou smacks your ass in response. “Shut the fuck up,” he grumbles. “Don’t tell me what to fuckin’ do.” The blonde continues to greedily and evilly eat your pussy, his tongue moving quick and his lips so soft that they feel like silk against your clit.

Kiri cackles above you, one hand on one of your juicy tits while the other is holding Bakugou’s phone to record you. “Don’t talk back to him, mama,” he sniggers. “Bakugou gets reeeeal mad when someone talks back to him. He’ll edge you for hours if you’re not a good girl.”

He stops groping your tit at the same time Bakugou pauses in his pussy-eating, staring at the redhead. They both share the same devious expression before looking down at you with lust and evil in their gazes. They’re like horror movie villains to you now. Demons. They are who to be afraid of.

You know exactly what comes next, but no mental preparation does much to prepare you for your bullies putting you through the wringer…and all on camera. But not before they make you cum with their tongues. They do it back to back, taking turns playing with your pussy and clit with their tongues until you have no choice but to gush all over them.

“That’s a good slut,” Bakugou moans into your cunt. “Fuckin’ cum for us. Cum for the camera, ya little whore.” He continues to eat you out as you moan and sob, tears once again pricking your eyes. The orgasm is explosive, drawing every ounce of energy out of you.

Kiri pulls away from sucking your clit to shine the light from the phone in your face and on your cum-slick pussy, moaning in appreciation at the sight. “So pretty,” he cackles. “Betcha needed that, didn’t you, angel?”

You only whimper in response, unable to speak. You feel so humiliated. But your humiliation only increases when your bullies scoop you up and finally use you as they intended while the embarrassing sex tape continues to record on Bakugou’s iPhone.

Bakugou props his phone up against the wall so he doesn’t have to hold it while he fucks you from behind. His cock is bigger than you thought just by looking at it and sucking on it. When it’s inside you, the pleasure mingles with the stretching sensation you feel as he pushes himself deep, deep, deep inside of you.

So deep that you feel his balls slap against your clit every time he pistons his hips against your ass. “Fuck!” you cry out, unable to hold back. You struggle to hold yourself up on your arms. Your body grows the weaker the rougher Bakugou fucks you, grunts of pleasure escaping through gritted teeth.

He uses you as he would use a toy, slamming into you with abandon. His rough thrusts cause embarrassingly wet noises to drift through the sex-scented air and your entire body to jiggle with the force of them—your ass, your tits, your thighs, your stomach.

Kiri grips all of you with his greedy hands, his cock surging at the sight of you getting fucked. He kneels down in front of you, making sure he is in the camera frame too. “C’mon, angel, you can take him,” he coos. “You can take both of us.”

He wraps a hand around his fat cock and you stare at it, wide-eyed. His dick piercing glints at you the same way his teeth do, almost mocking you. “Open up for me while Bakugou fucks that slutty pussy.”

You have no choice. You do as he demands and nearly choke as he shoves himself deep in your throat. Together, he and Bakugou begin to fuck you at each end in both of your holes, their moans and grunts filling the dark bedroom and all on camera footage.

He spreads your asscheeks apart as he pummels into your wet heat, forcing you into a deeper arch. “Yeah, that’s right,” he growls, smacking your ass. You wince at the sting. “Take that fuckin’ dick, princess. You needed this so badly—just some cock for a nerdy little slut.”

“Oh, you know she did,” Kiri chuckles, hissing in pleasure at the way your throat clenches and flexes around his shaft. “She was just hopin’ and prayin’ we’d see her in that sexy little costume and wreck her.”

“She ain’t been wrecked yet.” Bakugou suddenly pulls out of you, making you whine at the sudden feeling of being full and then not. He gives your ass a hard smack, the video definitely catching the sound. “Take shitty hair’s dick now,” he orders. “I wanna see your eyes this time. I’m gonna fuck your throat till I cum and you’re gonna take all of it.”

This isn’t a suggestion. This isn’t your decision. He is telling you exactly what you’ll be doing. Kiri laughs, delighted. “Handin’ me over her pussy? You must be feelin’ generous, babe.” He playfully kisses Bakugou on the cheek before the two switch, their attention back on you.

They both slap their cocks against your holes, laughing at your agonized expression. “Please,” you whimper, the only word in your blank mind. Blank from the constant fucking. Blank from the orgasm. Blank from the situation.

“Please what, slut?” Bakugou asks, tilting your chin up. “You want us to go again? You need us to fill you up?”

You don’t know how to answer him. You want them to stop, but you also want them to keep going. You need to cum like you need to breathe air. Like you need to eat. Like you need to blink.

Unfortunately for you, your hot, sexy, and extremely malicious bullies take your pathetic whimpering for a yes and slide in at the same time. Their moans of unison as they sink into your wet pussy and hot mouth are worthy of the best porn ever made.

“Fuck, angel!” Kiri moans, wasting no time pounding your pussy like there is no tomorrow. “You’re probably the best fuck I’ve ever had…no offense, ‘Suki.”

He grins toothily at the platinum blonde who is too busy watching the way you take his cock in your mouth to look up. “You say that now till I’ve got my dick in your ass,” he growls. “Now shut up and keep fuckin’ this slut. We need some good shit for the camera.”

Kiri’s grin widens as he grips your fleshy hips and smacks your ass in between his thrusts. “Riiiight,” he draws out. “A nice scene for our movie. You’re the star of the show, angel.”

He leans over you, sinking his cock in deeper and drawing a muffed moan out of you. “This is your big break, baby girl,” he whispers, nibbling at your ear. “Now take these fuckin’ dicks like you’re about to win an award.”

The two begin to fuck you in unison—rough, hard, and fast. They use your body and holes like you’re nothing but a sex doll to them. A toy to be used for their pleasure alone. Kiri grips your skirt as he fucks you, nearly ripping it apart, and Bakugou yanks on your hair, knocking the fake halo off of your head.

You feel a mess. You are a mess. Your costume is destroyed, your makeup is ruined, and you know that you’ll feel every inch of this in the morning. You would’ve preferred they steal your books or pull at your clothes in the hallway than this.

Because you can’t live this down. You can’t push this memory to the very far back of your mind. You can’t escape it through self growth, partying, or studying. Because it’s all on camera.

Your eyes shift to Bakugou’s phone screen where, sure enough, you see yourself. All of your soft, chubby body is being groped and gripped by big, rough hands calloused by endless training and sports. Two thick cocks piston in and out of your dripping pussy and mouth dripping in saliva. All for the camera.

If anyone else saw this, they’d see nothing but a slut.

A slut who is soon about to meet her end. You can feel the cocks inside of you swelling, signaling that your two bullies are about to peak. “Fuck, angel, I’m about to cum!” Kiri warns, gripping your ass and stroking your stretch marks. “You gonna cum too, aren’t you?”

“Mmm-hmm!” You hum around Bakugou’s thick cock. You don’t know if you’re saying yes or no. But your body betrays you regardless, your pussy squeezing around Kiri’s cock that continues to bully your insides.

“Not yet,” Bakugou growls, pulling his cock out of your mouth. He grips your chin and forces you to face his phone. You look back at you, mascara running and lip gloss and spit all over your mouth. “Look at the fuckin’ camera,” he snarls. “Say you like bein’ our slut. Say you like bein’ fucked on camera.”

Pants and moans leave your lips as Kiri continued to fuck you, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Smack! Bakugou leans forward to smack your ass, leaving it stinging. “Say it!” he hisses. “Say it if you wanna fuckin’ cum or I swear to God you won’t.”

“I…I…” Tears spring into your eyes as the embarrassing, betraying words leave your lips. “I love it!” You shout. “I love being your slut! I love getting fucked on camera by you! I want your cum!”

“Yeah?” Kiri teasingly asks. “You want our cum? You gonna take these loads in both of your holes like a good little girl, angel?”

“Yes!” you wail, getting closer and closer. “Yes, I promise! Please give me all of your cum!” Your two bullies grin devilishly, happy and satisfied with your pathetic answer. The two begin to fuck you like their lives depend on it, chasing their highs with rough thrusts and rutting that pushes you to your end.

When you cum, you cum HARD. It takes you a moment to make any noise as it takes over your body, making you shiver, shake, and tense up as each wave of pleasure overwhelms you. Your pussy tightens around Kiri’s cock and strokes it with your walls as you cum all over him, dripping down his heavy balls and your thick thighs.

“Oh, fuck!” He groans, still pummeling into your heat along with Bakugou. “Gonna cum! Gonna fuckin’ cum!” Finally, with a loud moan that rings in your eardrums and bounces off of the walls, he shoots a warm, creamy load deep inside of your pussy.

Bakugou follows, cumming deep down your throat with a guttural groan as if he’s an animal. He tilts his head back as his thrusts become sloppy and slower, still pumping rope after rope of cum along your tongue. You weakly moan as you’re filled to the brim with their spunk, feeling wet from both ends.

“Not yet,” Bakugou growls. “We ain’t done with you yet.”

He and Kiri pull their cocks out of you and begin pumping them on your face and your ass. You gasp as you feel Bakugou’s warm droplets of cum splash onto your face while Kiri enjaculates on your asscheeks, spreading his cum around the soft globes.

Once they finish, the two pant and sigh in satisfaction and exhaustion. Their toned bodies glint in sweat and their cocks are still semi-hard, but you’re sure they won’t want another round…or you hope not.

“Whew!” Kiri whistles, placing his hands on his hips. “That was…so, so fuckin’ good.” Bakugou wipes sweat from his forehead, breathing heavily. “I haven’t cum that hard in forever,” he chuckles. “Consider yourself lucky, princess.”

You lie on the floor between them, semi-naked and coated in cum. You are wrecked. Totally and completely. Kiri cackles, patting you on your ass. “Guess this she couldn’t handle it,” he jokes. “We ruined her.”

“Good,” Bakugou growls. “That’ll teach her not to go snoopin’ around our house without permission.”

“Oh, hold up!” Kiri suddenly walks over to pick up Bakugou’s phone and comes back, kneeling down in front of you. Bakugou forces you up and onto your knees, and like a rag doll, you allow it.

“Look up for me, angel,” Kiri coos. Despite the cum dripping off of your face, you do so and stare up into your bullies’ grinning faces and the white light of Bakugou’s phone.

“Smile, slut!” they both shout in unison. They broke your mind just enough where you do, flashing a wobbly smile at the camera.

THE END.