TEN 🗣️‼️

a mha college au feat. DENKI K. & HANTA S.

“ladies and gentlemen, introducing, the chocolate starfish, and the hot dog flavoured water…. BRING IT ON!”

mdni

cw: “HELP!! MY BESTFRIEND WANTS ME TO SUCK HIS DICK SO HE CAN RECORD IT AND SEND IT TO HIS SITUATIONSHIP?!”

wc: 2k

starting track….

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…….

“dude, you’re fumbling with the thing—”

“—i’m not, s’literally fine—”

“you’re gonna— you’re gonna smudge the cam— oh my god—”

“shit, i dropped it, hold on….”

“…you’re a fuckin’ mess.”

“me?! i’m the mess??? this was your idea.”

sero snatches his phone back from his bestfriend with a half-scoff half-snort. it was a bad idea asking denki to do this, the guy never takes anything seriously.

not that this is serious.

this, this is the funniest thing of the century.

this, this is him proving how fucking petty he can be.

because you, oh god, you’ve been taking the piss. ignoring his messages, acting like you don’t know him when he sees you in public, posting another guy on your story. really? and the dude wasn’t even all that.

he had to get his lick back, obviously.

but he has to be smart about this.

posting himself with a girl wouldn't do anything other than push you further away, and while he does enjoy your little games. he does actually, sorta-kinda like you.

he needed something, something good, something smart, something to make you jealous, but also hot, bothered, and horny.

how could he pass up an opportunity like this, a gift from above, or below, however you wanna look at it, in the form of denki kaminari.

because you're aware, he told you himself, offhandedly, about how he and denki used to fuck. not heavy, just two bisexual best friends, down on their luck, fried as shit, sometimes denki's dick in his mouth was just the natural progression of things, he can't help that.

but he remembers what you had said in reply.

“that's hot.”

and he was tickled, ego stroked, he prodded you further, because what exactly is the hot part, him, denki, both of them together? and you, in your own words said you wouldn't mind watching.

something about, yaoi, hentai, and something else about heated rivalry, and something else that he wasn't fucking listening to, because he was already filing this away for later.

you wouldn't mind watching.

but you’re not here. in fact, he hasn’t seen you for weeks, he thinks you might be mad at him for something he forgot about.

but just because you're not here doesn't mean he's just gonna fuck his fist, and mope about. not when his roommate is the denki kaminari.

the camera flips around.

they’re in hanta’s room, low blue lighting, nu metal on the speaker, loud enough to mask the noise they’re about to make, but not loud enough to distract from the task at hand.

denki’s leaned against the headboard, face lit by the blue light of his phone, probably scrolling on reels.

because sero was right. denki is not taking this seriously, at all. because this is stupid, you and hanta always fight like this, and he has to hear all about sero’s new ‘get back plan’ every fucking time.

at least this time he gets a good fuck out of it.

“hey princess,” the blonde says when he realises the camera’s facing him now. he throws a lazy peace sign at sero’s phone with a grin.

yeah, he’s gonna get a good fuck out of this.

he can already tell. sero came to him with an ‘idea’ which was just cornering him in the kitchen and pressing his boner into the crease of denki’s ass and murmuring lowly in his ear, asking him to come up to his room and ‘help him out with something’.

if he had known then, that he was about to make a sex tape with his bestfriend, he would've oiled up for the camera.

instead he's shirtless, hair tousled, the corner of his shitty sonic tattoo poking out from under his waistband, and emoting like a dickhead.

just before he can do one last bicep flex, the camera flips back round to sero. eyebrow raised in distaste, the piercing catches the flash of the phone, he's rolling his eyes and scratching the corner of his nose.

"anyway," hanta clears his throat, slips back into that stupid fake nonchalant tone he gets when he’s sending you voice messages, “i remember you said you were into that whole ‘yaoi' thing.”

he snorts, like he's mocking you, "me n' denks were gonna bang, so, i figured," he's collapses onto the bed next to denki with no grace or care for where he lands, you can hear denki complain in the background. "why not show you what you're missing?"

he grabs the blonde by the face, squishing his cheeks with his palms and drags his face into the picture. both of 'em cheesing at the phone, with matching hazy eyes and drooping smiles. like ying and yang with equal degrees of swag and stupidity across them both.

denki runs his tongue across his teeth, he’s been waiting for sero to do something for a minute, to touch him, to touch himself, a kiss, anything.

instead sero’s still fumbling with his phone, trying to figure out where’s he’s gonna put it to get the perfect angle.

and denki’s tired of waiting.

“dude,” the blonde’s voice is lower now, softer, two steps away from a whisper. “dude, dude— hanta.”

there’s a shiver that snakes it’s way up sero spine when he hears denki say his name. it’s weirdly intimate, in a way it’s not normally. it scratches an itch somewhere deep in his gut.

denki sighs again, impatient, borderline pouting at the lack of attention. but his gaze is heavy lidded, and his voice is syrupy. “just hold it for now, you can put it down later.”

and sero’s easy. they both know this. that’s why denki takes it upon himself to crawl over to where his best friend is still sat on the edge of the bed.

“you’re thinking ‘bout this too much,” he winks at the camera, hands running up and down the faded material coating hanta’s thighs.

as he curls his fingers around hanta’s waistband, nails gently tracing the exposed skin, “let’s just do what we normally do.”

hanta’s disembodied groan echoes, “yeaaah—ngh, yeah,” denki palming his erection through the fabric, “yeah, you’re so fuckin’ right.”

denki smirks at the shaking camera, because he knows, whenever you watch this, that you’re thinking what he’s thinking.

he traces the tip of hanta’s weeping cock through the fabric, softly, barely there, so easily pulling groans out from his friend. it’s so easy to get sero worked up, a bat of your eyelashes, the promise of a blowjob, he’s already half way to busting.

“hanta,” denki coos again. coy. so fucking coy. batting his pretty eyelashes with that doe-eyed look on his face, of course sero was a goner. the camera is visibly shaking from where he’s trying to keep the screen tilted. the blonde paws at his waistband, “lemme suck you off, real quick, i promise.”

what’s a guy to do?

fuck, he can’t do anything. except gulp, audibly. and nod his head like an overeager puppy.

but denki wants to have fun, why not. isn’t this supposed to be a show, a show for you, something sweet to wash out the bitter taste of the toxicity of your ‘relationship’ with hanta, in the first place.

“that’s not an answer,” slow, syrupy, as he licks his lips, eyes directed at hanta through the phone screen. he’s gone back to featherlight touches.

you both know sero loves this the most.

the build-up, the steady climb upwards. and every breath, every stutter, every sigh, every moan, in between then and now, he inhales all of it. almost like he enjoys this more than actually getting his nut. the act of dangling the pleasure in front of his face, just out of reach but so easily obtainable.

“m’sorry,” he exhales, eyes fluttering at the mere idea of denki’s mouth on his cock, “wan’ you t’suck my—fu-uck—”

shit, he would’ve dropped his phone if not for the burning desire for you to see this too, because denki’s mouth is like velvet.

the fleshy walls of his inner cheeks coax thick dribbles of pre-cum out of hanta’s throbbing cock. that perfect fuckin’ tongue of his glazes the underside in hypnotic waves, and all hanta can do is sit there and take it, let denki make a mess outta him.

it feels disgustingly good as the blonde pools his saliva and spits it right back onto him, that hanta can’t help but whine, low in the back of throat.

it’s a shame you can’t see his face. the way he tips his head back exposing the deep flush that blooms underneath the hickeys layering the column of his throat. his eyes, dark, dazed, and actively rolling back into his head, then fluttering closed, automatic, the puppet strings of his pleasure being pulled taut.

but you’d be able to hear how he hisses, “shii-it,” you’d be able to hear the pants pattering within his lungs increasing in volume every second, and the broken groans echoing in his chest with each bob of denki’s head.

you’d definitely get a clear view of denki. you’d see his mouth stretched around the base of hanta’s cock, bulge pressing against his cheek, visible from the outside, nose flush against the dark hair of his crotch.

and you know exactly what that smells like, if you inhaled now you’d probably still get notes of it. of that musk, the sweet sweat, that thing that is so uniquely hanta, that you could recognise with your eyes closed.

unlike denki, who’s dewey eyes are half lidded and fixed directly onto the camera. he’s a show off, he can’t help it, it just comes naturally to him at times like this. he might be laying it on a bit thick, swollen lips glistening with spit and jizz, eyelashes wet like lily stalks after rainfall. tears beading in his water line. the soft pout on his face as he slaps hanta’s cock against his lips, again, and again, and again.

but the dick-drunk daze in his eyes is real enough.

enough to let you know, whenever you do watch this, that denki’s cock is probably just as leaky as hanta's. in fact, if you're paying attention, you'd be able to see the way his hips roll, ever so slightly, and the friction making his mouth water. every subtle shift is just another drag of his cock against, either hanta's mattress, or, plainly, the material confining him.

either way, it's hot as fuck.

hanta seems to think so, "t-that's it, yeah, all the way into-nngh, shit, just. like. that."

deeper and deeper, all the way down into denki's throat, all the way down—

and that's where the picture goes black. muffled. fuck.

lucky for hanta.

because i doubt he'd want you to hear how wrecked he sounded, how animalistic. or see the primal instincts that caused him to grab denki's hair with both palms, white knuckled grip, and breed his throat. or watch him lose all composure as he forces the blonde to swallow every last drop.

and i doubt denki would've wanted you to see the way he limply accepted it, came back for seconds even, licking up every last spurt of his best friend's frothy cum. or the way he whimpered pathetically when he matched pace, and made a mess all over himself.

or the way he said thank you, afterwards.

or how hanta had grabbed him by the face and yanked the blonde back down on top of him. or how their mouths mashed together, hanta slurping the remnants of his own cum from the crevices of denki's mouth.

and i seriously doubt either one would've wanted you to see the electric current of overstimulation that phased through them both, after their sticky spent cocks made contact, in matching, delicious, pathetic humps.

or the way they spent the next twenty minutes torturing each other with the sensation, twitchy bodies and dazed grins.

…end of playback

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

ermmm… haiiiii thank you for waiting 🫪

ᝰ.ᐟ cw: 18+, suggestive, awkward, playful/gentle teasing, embarrassment, light degradation, namecalling, light flirting, light humiliation (?), touya and shiggy may be a little mean, pervy!fem!reader, pre-relationship, features: kirishima, denki, sero, shigaraki, shoto and touya todoroki ( possibly ooc, don’t kill me, okay ?)

ᝰ.ᐟ synopsis: catching print w/ the boys

ᝰ.ᐟ a/n: multis are hard … sorry if some of the dialogue is hard to see (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞, but i changed my layout once again ! tumblr now has black text instead of purple and i like the way it looks on my enddd yayayay

𐔌 e. kirishima .ᐟ

“you got me, right?”

eijiro’s voice is a little breathless already, shoulders settling against the bench as he adjusts his grip on the bar. you’re right behind him, hands hovering where they should be, close enough to help — but not to touch.

you nod, giving him a quick “yeah! yeah, go ahead,” and he doesn’t hesitate for even a second, he trusts you completely.

his reps start smooth and steady. you’re watching — at first. tracking the bar, his breathing, the rhythm of it. but somewhere in the middle, when he shifts slightly to steady himself, your focus slips. just for a second. your eyes drop without thinking, catching the way the fabric of his shorts pulls and settles with each movement, and before you realize it — you’re staring. not even intentionally, right?

your eyes slip lower to the solid print straining against his gym shorts, thick and unmissable, and you stare at his bulge there, mesmerized by how it fills out the fabric, mentally ranking him high: definitely a girthy one, the kind that'd stretch you just right—

“…you still with me?” he asks, voice strained but light, snapping you out of it as he sits up.

you realize your eyes were glued way too low, staring at his bulge as it moved with him. “y-yeah,” you answer quickly, eyes jumping back up. “you’re good!”

he finishes the set with a sharp exhale, racks the weight, and sits up, rolling his shoulders. everything feels normal for about half a second — until he pauses mid-reach for his towel and glances at you.

he’s quietly aware, his gaze dips for a split second before returning to your face, softer now, a little amused. “y’know,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with a small, awkward laugh, “usually my spotter’s watchin’ the bar.”

he tilts his head, following where your attention was. “were you... checking me out?” there's no accusation, just playful curiosity, his red eyes sparkling.

your cheeks heat up. “no, i was just— zoning out.” but even as you say it, you steal another glance, staring briefly at his bulge again, confirming his solid d.

he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, a little flushed himself. “zoning out, huh? looked pretty focused to me.” he flexes his legs a bit, like he's testing, and damn if it doesn't make the outline more pronounced, feeding right into your pervy thoughts as you stare once more.

heat floods your face instantly as you try to recover, words tripping over themselves, but he just shakes his head, he shifts a little where he’s sitting, suddenly aware of himself too, like the thought hadn’t crossed his mind until now. “…that a thing you do?” he asks after a moment, genuinely curious.

you hesitate, then sigh, giving in. “n-no, it’s called catch printing…”

he repeats it slowly, then glances down again, this time with some actual understanding. there’s a pause while he processes, shoulders shifting slightly before he clears his throat, a quiet laugh slipping out under his breath.

“…so you were—” he starts, then cuts himself off, shaking his head. “man…”

he tries again, softer this time, a little shy but still curious. “…did you, uh… come to a conclusion?”

“eijiro!—“ you groan, covering your face.

he laughs, hands coming up in surrender, but he doesn’t move away. if anything, he stays right there, warmth lingering in the space between you.

“…sorry, sorry. just caught me off guard,” he says, still smiling faintly. then he shifts again—subtle, but noticeable now that you’re both more aware of it.

there’s a small pause before he adds, quieter, almost to himself, “…kinda makes me wanna prove you right, though.”

𐔌 d. kaminari .ᐟ

“nah, wait, watch, this is the best part—”

denki sprawled on the couch beside you, legs manspread wide in those loose joggers, already halfway into your space, shoulder bumping yours as he shoves his phone closer, replaying the same instagram reel like it somehow gets funnier every time.

he’s laughing before the funny part even shows, leaning into you without thinking, completely caught up in it.

you lean in too, trying to follow along — really, you are — but the proximity makes it a lot harder than it should be.

somewhere between him shifting closer and getting comfortable, your attention slips. just briefly. your eyes flick down without thinking, catching the faint curve there, not huge but teasingly curved, enough to spark your imagination, and you stare at his bulge, eyes tracing the shape through the fabric, slotting him mid-rank, possibly a b.

“…yo,” he’s already watching you, just grinning wide and knowing. “whoa, what’s that look for?” denki says, pausing the video as he peers at you.

you freeze instantly, like you’ve been caught mid-thought, and slowly look up. “huh? nothing,” you reply too fast, but your mind's still tracing that print, wondering how it'd feel twitching under your touch, your eyes having just been staring at his bulge so intently.

he smirks, shifting so his thigh brushes yours. “you sure? ‘cause your eyes were like, laser-focused down there.” he wiggles his eyebrows, but there's a hint of real curiosity, his own gaze dropping briefly like he's checking himself, aware of how you were staring at his bulge.

you laugh it off, but inside you're buzzing — pervy habit kicking in hard. “n-nobody’s worried about you, denki.”

“…you weren’t even watching,” he says, tilting his head, eyes flicking down deliberately this time before returning to yours. “were you?”

“i was—”

“mm, no,” he cuts in, laughing under his breath. he shifts his legs slightly just enough to feed into those perverted thoughts of yours — and leans in closer. “you were definitely lookin’ somewhere else.”

your face burns as you try to deny it, but he’s not buying it for a second. if anything, he looks more entertained the longer you try. “that’s crazy,” he murmurs, like he’s genuinely impressed.

you huff, crossing your arms, trying to recover some dignity. “…it’s just a thing.”

“…a thing,” he echoes, clearly amused.

you hesitate, then mumble, “catching print.”

there’s a beat of silence, then his expression lights up instantly. “ohhh,” he drags out, grin widening. “nah, i’ve heard of that.”

of course he has, that chronically online bastard.

he nudges you with his shoulder, clearly enjoying this way too much. “you just look and guess, right? people be ranking it and everything.”

you don’t answer, which is basically enough confirmation for him.

“…damn,” he laughs, leaning back slightly before glancing down at himself like he’s actually evaluating. “so what’d i get?”

“denki, please—“

“what?” he presses, grin sharpening. “you started it.”

you hesitate, then mumble it under your breath. “…an a.”

there’s a moment of silence — which is rare when you’re with denki, just long enough to make you regret saying anything.

“an a?” he repeats, mock offended.

then he readjusts slower this time and looks back at you with narrowed eyes, playful but a bit intense. “…you sure about that?” he murmurs with a lick of his lips.

your breath catches as he leans in just a little closer, voice dropping into something quieter, more teasing. “wanna test that theory, pretty liar?”

𐔌 h. sero .ᐟ

“hold on— don’t move.”

hanta’s voice is absentminded, attention focused entirely on your notebook as his pencil moves like he’s been given full creative control. one arm hooks loosely behind your chair, leaning into your space like it’s the most natural thing in the world. you glance down and, sure enough, there’s another little spider-man doodle creeping into your notes.

“you’re ruining my work,” you mutter, though there’s no real attitude behind it. you love hanta and his random doodles.

“nah,” he hums, tilting his head as he adds another line. “i’m improving it!”

you roll your eyes, but your attention doesn’t stay there. it drifts without meaning to, pulled downward for just a second. then a second longer.

“something on your mind?” hanta asks, voice light as he feels your eyes drawing down to stare at him.

“not at all,” you say, but your pulse quickens, pervy gears turning as you imagine unwrapping that, your stare having been so obvious.

he chuckles softly, “you’ve got that look... like you’re measuring me up or something.” his dark eyes glint with amusement as he continues sketching.

you shrug, playing cool, though your gaze flicks down once more — staring at his bulge to confirm the promising length. “….just watching you draw.”

“…mhm, y’know,” he says casually, causing you to freeze. he’s still drawing and hasn’t even looked at you yet. “…that’s not really what you’ve been starin’ at.”

your head snaps up too fast, denial already forming as he finally glances over, one brow raised, a small, knowing smile tugging at his mouth. “you always this obvious?” he murmurs with a smug smirk.

you look away immediately, heat creeping up your neck. “just... catching print,” you admit under your breath, the words slipping out after all that staring.

“…ah,” he tsks out loud, with no surprise.

you blink, surprised. “…you know?”

“kinda,” he shrugs, spinning the pencil between his fingers now. “seen it on tiktok, denks showed it to me.”

you groan under your breath, which only makes him laugh softly. “so what,” he continues, leaning just a little closer, voice dropping slightly, “you really are sizing me up or something?”

“n-no!”

“mm,” he hums, unconvinced. then he shifts where he’s sitting — casual enough to pass, but not accidental, then taps your notebook like he’s bringing the focus back, even though his eyes are still on you.

“c’mon,” he adds, quieter now, “don’t go quiet on me, i would like to know…”

you don’t answer, and that silence says more than anything else could and he watches you for a second longer before his smile deepens into something a little more playful. “…guess i’ll just have to give you something better to focus on next time, maybe i’ll give you a taste later,” he mutters with false nonchalance laced in his voice.

𐔌 s. todoroki .ᐟ

“wait, you skipped a step.”

shoto slides your notebook back toward you, pen hovering as he points out the mistake with quiet precision. you nod, following along, trying to stay focused on what he’s saying — but your attention slips, just briefly, right? your eyes dart, catching the straight, firm print against his uniform pants.

"is there something wrong?" he asks, interrupting your thoughts as he’s looking up at you.

you blink. “what? no.” your voice comes out too quick, and you shift in your seat, hoping he doesn’t notice the heat creeping up your neck. “just... the equation’s tricky. keep going?”

"...you stopped writing," he notes as he tilts his head slightly, heterochromatic eyes steady. "you seem distracted." he sets the pen down, shifting in his seat — the motion making the swell more apparent for a breath before he picks up again, voice even. "if it's the notes, I can go slower." but the subtle pause in his gaze suggests he knows it’s not that at all.

you stiffen slightly. “i-it’s fine !— i’m listening.”

he doesn’t respond right away. instead, there’s a small pause and then his eyes drop subtle, like he’s retracing whatever just pulled your focus.

when he looks back up, his expression hasn’t changed much, but there’s something more thoughtful behind it now. "...what were you looking at?" he asks, completely serious.

you hesitate. “…nothing.”

there’s a pause as he studies you, quiet and observant in a way, before his gaze lowers again — this time slower, more deliberate. you feel it, the way he’s putting it together piece by piece. "was it something here?"

your stomach tightens. “it’s nothing, really.”

he doesn’t drop it, geez shoto.

"...it didn't seem like nothing," he replies, voice even. another pause follows, then, quieter. "...you were looking at me."

your face burns instantly as you grit out. “i wasn’t!—”

he tilts his head slightly, watching you. not convinced. "where...," he asks with a slight hesitation, "were you looking...?"

you stare at him, mortified, but he doesn’t look away — he just waits, patient in that way he always is when he wants an answer.

you exhale sharply. “…it’s just a thing.”

"what kind of thing?"

you hesitate, then mumble, “…people look and try to guess.”

"...guess what?"

you gesture vaguely, already regretting this. “…size.”

there’s a pause as he processes that quietly. "...based on how it looks through clothing," he repeats, slower now.

you nod, avoiding his eyes. “and they rank it. like — a, b, d. it’s stupid, sorry, shoto.”

there’s a little bit of silence for a bit, then, "...i see." you risk a glance at him, but he’s already looking down again. "..and you were doing that?.." he says.

you cover your face. “shoto—”

"was your estimate correct?" he asks.

you choke. “w-what?!”

he looks back up at you, completely serious. “if the point is to estimate, then accuracy would matter.”

you make a small, mortified noise of embarrassment, and his gaze softens as he watches you with a small grin. “if it makes you feel better, i’ll let you see…”

𐔌 t. todoroki .ᐟ

the patio is quiet, touya’s sprawled across the couch, legs spread, one arm thrown over the back while the other loosely holds a cigarette. smoke curls lazily into the air as he talks, voice low and disinterested.

you’re across from him, nodding along, trying to pay attention — but your focus slips, your gaze drifts downward into his lap and stays there.

“…you done?”

your head snaps up immediately and he’s already looking at you, expression flat but edged with something faintly amused. not surprised in the slightest, though. “huh?—”

“what are you doing, huh?” he cuts in, sharp enough to stop you mid-sentence. your stomach twists as he exhales slowly, eyes dropping — following the exact same path yours just did before lifting again. “…you’re so fuckin’ weird,” he mutters.

heat floods your face as you try to recover, shaking your head, but he doesn’t give you much room to.

“you were so,” he adds, more firmly this time and you go quiet, open to his possible scolding.

he leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees as he looks at you. “…that get you off or something?” he asks.

you hesitate, then mumble, “…n-no.”

he scoffs under his breath. “uh-huh...”

you huff, a little defensive, but he just watches you for a second longer before leaning back again, settling deeper into the couch. “…so what,” he continues, voice lower now, “you tryna figure it out?”

you don’t answer and he clicks his tongue, unimpressed. “…well if you’re gonna stare,” he mutters, “at least don’t act shy about it.”

there’s a pause, the air heavier now, before he adds. “c’mon, weirdo.”

𐔌 t. shigaraki .ᐟ

the game glitches at the worst possible moment and he loses instantly.

“tsk, fuck!—” tomura leans forward, his irritation immediate. all of his fingers except his pinky tighten around the controller like he might snap it, but then he pauses mid-motion, something else catching his attention.

in the midst of his rage, your eyes drifted and settled on the way his loose pants slightly bulged, the outline capturing your attention. you found yourself mentally assessing him, considering him a risky b+, something that could easily decay your self-control. “…the hell are you staring at?”

you freeze, realizing too late that you’ve gone completely still, your gaze still longing on him. “n-nothing!—”

he turns his head slowly, eyes landing on you before dropping and following your line of sight without hesitation. “…you’re a pervert,” he says flatly, but there's a rasp to it, like he's not entirely mad — more so intrigued, scratching at his neck as he shifts, making the print more evident.

you swallow, heart pounding, “…caught me,” you mutter, voice small but laced with that thrill, after staring so blatantly and feeling bad.

he huffs, controller forgotten. “yeah, you’re fucking obvious. what, sizing me up like some creep?” his eyes bore into you, but he doesn't move away, legs parting just a fraction, inviting the stare, or maybe challenging it, despite himself.

“shiggy…,” your face burns as you look away, trying to deny it, but he cuts you off just as quickly. “no, no, don’t give me that. yeah, you are.”

you shrink back slightly, but he just leans into the couch, one hand coming up to scratch at his neck while the controller rests loosely in the other.

tomura's lip then curls, almost a smirk. “you're into that shit?” but his voice lacks bite as he leans back.

at your silence, a faint huff leaves him, something almost amused under it. “…hm,” he breathes, glancing over his shoulder, “…alright then.”

HE’S ALL THAT, AND A BAG OF CHIPS!

❤︎ SYNOPSIS: it’s a high school reunion for jujutsu high, a religious school hidden deep in the woods. you don’t want to attend, but do—and don’t regret it. apparently, Kentō nanami, that little loser you had a crush on in high school, is officially…hot?

❤︎ CONTENT: non-sorcery!au, prom, non-linear story, light hurt/comfort, frenemies to lovers lowk, making out…18+, minors and ageless blogs DNI.

❤︎ XOXO, PUMA: semi-unrelated to this fic—high school!au geto is like…chad from hsm, in the sense that he says he doesn’t dance while dancing, and then fucks ryan right after. yk?

♫ NOW PLAYING: seems like old times, vaughn monroe ver.

read on ao3 | 8k words | the barbie ad | masterlist.

TO BE HONEST, you don’t even want to be here.

For you, high school was…an era. In the moment? You had a blast. Looking back? You wish someone had put you on a leash, or placed a shock collar around your neck to buzz every time you did something socially unacceptable. What the fuck were you wearing?

You didn’t have much cognizance of the world around you until college. You barreled through life like the fastest bullet train in Japan—nose-first at 320 kilometers per hour, a little too noisy and definitely too friendly. You had a hand dipped in every clique, every social pot you could find. It took some time, but you found your people—and got comfortable under stairs for lunches, went to arcades and KFC’s just before closing. That summer before college was the highlight of your life.

(Even if your ‘people’ included Satoru Gojō.)

You and Utahime send twin glares across the long limo as Satoru pops a bottle of champagne, just as the car rolls to a stop in front of the venue. He winks at the appalled look on your faces behind a pair of black rimmed Diors.

“What?” He asks, innocent, spreading his arms in a shrug, cork in one hand and bottle in the other. Then, before taking a swig, he catches your eye. “Just because you’re nervous to see Nanami, doesn’t mean you can take it out on me.”

You manage to flip Satoru off before reverie comes over you like warm water.

Ah, Kentō.

"shh," he hushes, his other hand splayed across your stomach and pushing down so you can feel the slight bulge of his cock in there, your eyes rolling back. "keep quiet, my love. wouldn't want everyone else to hear us."

a mha college au FEAT HANTA S.

“and that’s that loving sound, it went uhh”

mdni cw: m. masturbation, fantasies and such, he's actually toxic, like bro, he's toxic ANNDDDD he's a Freak! CAPITAL F!!! i do not condone his behaviour.

wc: 1.3k

for, @updownandbatty & @plutooowo

starting track…

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

sero is such a fucking weirdo.

it wasn’t even a real argument, small shit, minuscule shit, honestly.

the kinda of thing that could’ve been solved in like three texts max, the kind of thing that, in his opinion, you were dragging.

he thinks you enjoy being angry at him, and he doesn’t help himself, not when he lives for pushing your buttons, not when being deeply irritating is his favourite pastime.

you left your phone charger in his car by accident two nights ago, so you called him, y’know, reasonably, asking if he could drop it off at yours.

he was in the middle of a game though, and he’s not your boyfriend, was he really about to drop everything just to drive over to yours and give you a charger, if you wanted it that badly you could come and collect it yourself.

you did not like that.

he rolled his eyes when he saw it.

you were typing… and typing… and typing…

and then.

voice message, after voice message, after voice message.

he snatched his headset off with a groan, not even pressing play on the audios yet, just checking his pockets for his keys, about to drive over to your place and give you your stupid fucking charger— and maybe talk to you nicely, sit on your couch, smoke your weed, eat whatever you got in your fridge, maybe eat you, if you let him.

yeah, he had a decent gameplan.

until he accidentally clicks the play button on the first voice note.

your voice comes tumbling through his phone speaker, lazy, pissed off, carefully crafted insults.

hanta smirks.

there’s something about the way you talk down to him that always did the job.

you just sound so effortlessly sexy when you’re annoyed. hanta can imagine the way your top lip would curl in disgust, the little wrinkle that appears between your brows and, you talk with your hands.

if you were here, you would have a finger pressed into his chest, all up in his face, practically itching to bite him.

it’s always been hot.

he flops back onto his chair, phone on in one hand, the instagram chat between you two open, the 2, 3, 4, 5 voice messages from you staring down at him like a dare.

he pulls his cock out.

spits on it, a huge wad of his saliva landing directly on the tip, it makes him flinch, finger grazing his phone screen, restarting the audio as he softly starts thumbing the tip.

“don’t piss me off right now,” there’s a pause where you chuckle, sarcastically, god, it’s the hottest thing he’s ever fucking heard, straight porn crackling down the speaker, “i’m so serious, you’re such a piece of shit.”

a piece of shit? him? never….

“i can’t be fucked to deal with your shit today…., i’m so fucking serious.”

yeahhhhhh, okay, okay, you’re being overdramatic as usual, but he’s weird in the head, and his cock jumps when you—

“…y’know what…. honestly hanta, fuck you, yeah, fuck you….”

his head tilts back, he practically crumples into the chair, he loves when you say his name, especially when you spit it out like that, the same way you spit out his load when he breeds your throat, the frothy cum that bubbles over your lips, paints your face.

he can see it now, his hand moves on autopilot, his palm caressing his cock, the friction makes his eyes roll, as he imagines shutting you up like that, his cock just stuffing your mouth full, your teary eyes looking up at him, with your cheeks all puffed up, and those soft lips of yours, the way they curl, the way they sneer, the way they look so good parted in ecstasy—

“….don’t understand why you make such a big deal out of this shit….”

he nearly laughs, he’s making it a big deal? you’re getting yourself so worked up over what, a fucking cable?

“it’s not even about the charger.” of course, “it’s about you…..you just wanna drag everything out.” drag his cock across your soaked pussy lips, up and down and up and down, drag his cock in teasing circles around your clit, round and round, get you all worked up and achey and needy.

“….you always wanna piss me off…” maybe you’d wanna suck on his fingers while he plays with your nipples, soft skin bulging around his palm as his digits toy with the puffy buds, he knows you like that, like his fingers, you tell him that all the time.

“….i just don’t understand how a guy can be so fucking stupid…..that’s probably why you got that dent on the back of your head, because you were dropped as baby and it….”

mmmmmm, you love running your hands through his hair though, the dark strands bunching between your fingertips when you tug on it, like a fucking leash, like he’s a misbehaving dog, just thinking about it makes him leak.

he pumps faster, the messy, sticky, fap-fap-fap echoes around his room, mixing in with his breathy groans and cries of your name.

god, he's so fucking pathetic.

but he can't help it, you're so fucking hot, and he really does like you, your face, your eyes, your f-fucking voice--

".....don't play games with me hanta...."

there you go again, saying his name, practically spitting it out like a curse word, and he's giggling as he looks down at himself, at his throbbing erection, do you even know what you do to him?

"...you're a fucking joke, y'know that right...."

nah, what's a joke is how quick he cums when you jerk him off. you're so good at that, you know his body so well, know how much he goes crazy for a sloppppyyy handjob, the messy kind, with one of your hands placed on his chest, holding him down, as the other hand massages his balls, your nails digging into his thighs, his tip drooling at the sensation.

"....so fucking stupid.....such an idiot...can't deal with your bullshit..."

fuck yeah, yeah, he's an idiot, a nasty piece of shit, he knows, he can't help it though, it's not his fault, it's your fault really, for enabling him, for giving him a taste of you in the first place, a taste of your pussy, god, your pussy, always so slick, and warm, and inviting. she treats him better than you do, she would never say mean things to him like you do, she just takes his cock, grips him so fucking tightly, fucking milks him every time.

ohhhh, he can't help himself, bucking his hips up into his fist like a wild animal, pretending that it's you. you look so gorgeous underneath him, all fucked out and whiney. and he’d let you bite all over him, sink your teeth into his skin, leave your fucking mark on him, stake your claim, all f-fucking yours, fuck, okay, okay, okay, shit, he almost forgets to breathe, your voice just swimming in his ears, changing his brain chemistry, holy fuck.

"you can't do shit properly, always half-assing shit.... can't even fuck me properly."

he knows you said that as a last resort, the final push.

he knows you, and you know him.

and hanta, like previously mentioned, is a fucking weirdo, so, of course, that’s what pushes him over the edge, because he knows, he knows for sure, that is a big old lie.

because, that's not what you said when this whole thing started, when you were in the backseat of his car on tuesday, and you squirted all over his leather seats, and the car reeked of pussy and sweat, and he could taste you in his mouth the next morning.

he runs a tongue across his teeth, the phantom taste of your juices in his mouth, and spurts everywhere, all over his hands, all over his sweats, accompanied by sorry's and thank-you’s and holy shit’s

he doesn't even bother to send you a reply, just likes that last voice message you sent, and starts cleaning himself up, because of course he was gonna come over, probably dangle that wire out of your reach, and then let you push him against the door, hands down his pants, your mouth on his neck, yeah.

solid gameplan.

…end of playback.

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

@kamislop @dotalicious @lonelyfooryouonly @tsushimimi @tokkushin @realbadgyalll

this is a mixtape madness fic, drop a request and i’ll get back to you:

You decide to tease both your fans and your bf by saying “i dunno who cellophane is guys, wth???”

“Yes, I have a boyfriend, and I’m honored you guys think he’s hot enough to be a pro hero” to which sero scoffs and walks into frame saying “yes, I’m dating this beautiful woman, and YES, it’s me pro-hero cellophane. We wanted to keep things quiet but, oh well.”

denki has been waiting a year for this. a year of watching from the sidelines, of side hugs, of laughing at his jokes…always with him by your side. the prick whose hand always lingered a bit too tight around your waist, whose words would dim your spark for the rest of the night, from a bubbly girl having fun at a party to non-verbal. he never liked him, and god knows how guilty denki has felt for saying nothing, just like the rest of your friend group.

but now he had a chance.

you didn’t tell him when you and your ex boyfriend broke up, he got a whiff of it from hanta before mina flooded his phone with texts about it— yeah, he didn’t do a great job at keeping his so-called crush very hidden. he was sure you had caught onto it at some point, but never showed any signs of it.

and that’s exactly why hanta had made him a tinder account, because everyone knew that denki couldn’t hold a conversation with a pretty girl in real life to save his life. one time a girl asked him for his number and he said he’d lost his phone (even if it was literally in the back pocket of his jeans).

perhaps it was his sign when, among the countless accounts he’s scrolled through, he sees you. it had barely been a week since the breakup, you being on tinder was definitely a bad decision on your part, but hey, who was he to pass up on this chance?

he didn’t swipe right away, guilt rearing its ugly head at the back of his mind when he’s already shoved a hand down his pants. he remembers when you took that picture in your bikini, on that summer trip of torture— torture being the fact that you’d slept in the room next to his, and all he could do for a week straight was jack off to the barely muffled sounds of you and your ex having sex.

denki’s already palming himself through his boxers, his dick having started to jump obnoxiously the moment his eyes had registered you on the screen. he looks through the other photos on your profile, snorting when he sees the one you’ve obviously cut your ex out of, before going back to his favorite one.

he could’ve masturbated to every other one of your pictures, but the one you took at the beach is just so beautiful. he remembers you running in the sand, coming up after a swim in ocean or just sunbathing. your laugh when denki got hit in the head during beach volley, and how you were the only one to ask if he was okay.

his dick twitches impatiently, a groan rumbling in his throat when he finally lets it free, spitting on his palm before wrapping it around his shaft. denki knows this is so wrong, but at least now you’re single, so in his mind it’s not as bad as the other times he's done it when you were taken.

precum’s already beading at his flushed tip, hand stroking in slow, up and down motion with the slightest rotation of his wrist, and he’s already gone to delusion land. imagining it’s your hand instead, or your mouth or - if the universe will ever grant him - your cunt. warm and gushing around his cock while you use him, tugging at his hair while you beg him to fuck you harder, because he’s such much better than him.

or it would still be his own hand, but his mouth would be stuffed with your pussy, tongue lapping up at your juices like a madman, thighs bracketing his ears, muffling the moans he would be wrenching out of you. and his eyes would be open the entire time to watch you gyrate on top of him, to watch you come undone. and he’d be the one who did it.

the mere thought of making you cum is what makes him spill embarrassingly all over his hand, a choked cry of your name on his lips. and shit, some of his cum got on his phone, too.

only after he’s cleaned himself - and his phone - up, and has recollected some sort of rationality, does he sit back down, thumb hovering over the screen before he swipes right. denki almost faints when it lights up.

IT’S A MATCH!

┊┊a/n. FINALLY GOING BACK TO MY KAMISLOP TRUTH!! also this might or might not be half based on my actual lore...who knows...

Dirty dance floors and dreams of naughtiness

✩┊ PART 2 (and final) of I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor - KiriBaku x reader event for 1K!

synopsis: just a girl who accidentally became friends with the bouncers at her favorite club, who just so happen to be two hot best friends!! contents: 18+ MDNI!!! bouncer!Katsuki Bakugou x partygirl!fem!reader x bouncer!Eijirou Kirishima, there's no time for plot so it's just porn, if you guys think bkg is going to have any control here you're in the wrong place, but everyone is a bit of a switch? idk, oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected piv (don't recommend), spit, anal fingering, anal, double penetration, creampies, multiple orgasms wc. 3.4K

you crossed a line the day you hung out with eijirou and katsuki. the day they stopped being the two hot bouncers you messed around with. yes, the three of you texted on the groupcaht often, even when it wasn’t club related, but that was different.

why? because there’s a big difference between sending each other brainrot memes and planning a threesome. though you don’t really plan a threesome, do you? it’s just something that kinda happens after you go out with two best friends a few times, and one moment you’re at the club they work at giving them fuck-me eyes, the next you’re in the backseat of katsuki’s car making out with eijirou.

“oi, cut it out!” the blond barks from the front, shooting you a scowl over the rearview mirror. “that’s leather, and if you do something it’ll—”

“it’ll - mhhm - what, kats?” eijirou teases, a large hand still groping your ass over the sorry excuse of fabric you call a dress when he breaks the kiss. smirking when you chase after the loss of contact. “it just sounds like you’re jealous to me.”

“big boy bakugou is mad he can’t party with us!” you quip, a heady giggle following the tease. “don’t worry baby, there’s enough of me for both of you,” you add, reaching over to drag a finger over the bulging muscle of katsuki’s bicep, hand tightly wrapped on the gearshift. his only reply was a scoff.

“don’t worry ‘bout him,” eijirou coos, grabbing your jaw to shift your attention back to him. “you said it, he’s a big boy. he’ll live,” he cuts off your laugh with another kiss, drinking in your moan. your thigh is slung over his, and we can feel your growing warmer.

“better go faster,” the redhead warns his friend. “i don’t know how much we’ve got left before she turns into a little beast.”

and go faster he did.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

you kiss katsuki in the elevator. it’s different from eijirou. the blond is clumsier, all smacking lips and harsh paws at your body, but you figured he just grew impatient after driving the whole way from the club blue-balled. he pins you against the wall of the hallway, your hands already dipping down his chest, high on the fervor of his kiss.

“i know one of your biggest dreams is spending a night in jail, but let’s focus on ticking off that threesome box first, eh?” eijirou playfully calls out, waiting on the doorway to his and katsuki’s shared apartment, leaning with his elbow against the dark wooden frame. you pull away with a giggle, not noticing the utterly awestruck expression on the blond’s face. “you’re right, you’re right.”

you lead katsuki down the hall, a finger hooked inside his belt, and for once in his life he doesn’t dare to protest. you get to give the living room a quick look, from the cream-colored woods to the dark, sleek furniture, clashing with the flashy posters hanging next to the tv. it’s a perfect balance.

once inside, eijirou is quick to snatch you from his friend to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth with an impatience that already has you clenching around nothing.

he smiles when he feels your hands pawing at his sculpted chest. “needy girl,” eijirou purrs against your lips. “need your big boys to fill you up, hm? yes, you do…” from over your shoulder, he beckons katsuki closer with a nod of his head. “c’mon don’t just stand there".

the blond stalks over slowly, thankful your back is turned to him so you can’t see just how much of a mess he is, mustering up all the confidence he has (and the countless stupid lessons eijirou gave him that for some fucking reason he actually listened to) to place his hands on your waist.

you ease into his touch immediately, one arm snaking around eijirou’s neck, the other around katsuki’s. “much better,” you grin, kissing eijirou again. his friend can only watch, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as he watches the two of you, his cock stirring awake once more.

and he curses when you wiggle your ass right against his front, katsuki’s head dipping to your shoulder, where he leaves a few tentative kisses. pride sparks in his chest when you shiver, the redhead greedily swallowing the moan that spills from your lips.

“turn around f’me now, can’t let kats high and dry like this,” eijirou pulls back, and you obediently follow his hands’ guidance, finding yourself face to face with a pair of ruby eyes. “hey,” you chirp, fingers carding through golden gelled hair.

katsuki doesn’t even have the time to answer before your lips are locking with his, a gasp getting caught in his lungs when he can taste something that’s just so eijirou on you. it shouldn’t make him this excited, desire pooling in his gut at your sweetness on his tongue. the redhead gets sidetracked for a minute, watching the blond’s confidence grow, hand trailing all the way down to your ass.

he smirks, going back to his original plan of falling to his knees with a light thud against the carpeted floor neither of you seem to hear. but you sure do feel eijirou gently parting your thighs and bunch up your dress, katsuki holding the fabric up for him like he knew.

“eiji,” you huff. “what are you— oh, fuck!”

there’s no time for you to get used to it, your soppy cunt gushing into eijirou’s open-mouthed french kiss. “mmh, fucking sweet,” he moans, already pussydrunk. “kats, spread her— mmhh open f’me?”

katsuki didn’t really understand what he meant until the redhead grabbed his hand and put it under your asscheek, the other quickly joining and pulling lightly at the plushy flesh. “oh god!” you mewl, arching into the blond’s chest, his face dipping next to your ear. “you like it?” he rasps, biting right below your ear, down to the point where neck meets shoulder.

you let your forehead fall to his chest, nodding frantically. your head’s a mess, eijirou’s tongue tracing maddening circles around your clit before dipping in and out of your hole, wrenching the most sinful squelches. “eiji…eiji, fuck, right there—” you plea, bunching katsuki’s shirt in your fists to hold yourself up.

“d’you hear that, eiji?” the blond mocks you with sudden confidence, guiding your pliable body back and forth on his friend’s mouth. “oh my god,” you gasp, eijirou’s flat tongue pressing over your slit just right. “oh my god, ‘m gonna—” and then you’re shaking, each moan and slurred cry muffled by katsuki’s bruising kiss. their hands are everywhere, holding you up, leaving marks on every inch of skin they can reach.

you’re not sure which one of them carried you to bed after that, you just know you’re laying on a soft mattress, in a room that’s so painfully clear it belongs to katsuki from the lack of personality. the boys’ clothes - along with your own - were scattered in a sinful trail down the hallway, and your mouth is quite literally watering from the sight before you.

they’re all sculpted muscles and chiselled abs, which weren’t difficult to predict from the usual skin-tight, all black outfits they usually wear, but this is on a whole different level. “like what you see?” eijirou teases, flashing you a wide grin that you mirror. “oh, i do,” you purr, eyes jumping between the two friends. and their other sizes weren’t disappointing either— where katsuki’s was longer, eijirou made up with girth.

“what are you guys waiting for?” you held yourself up on your elbows, butterflies flapping erratically in your stomach once they stalk towards the bed. “i want you—” you point your finger at katsuki. “—here,” you tap your parted lips.

“oh, man,” eijirou whines, but he bites back any complaint when you let your knees fall to the mattress, your pussy, still glistening with your slick and his spit, staring right back at him. he almost jumps on the bed.

“fucking watch it,” katsuki barks, his glaring crimson gaze softening when his eyes fall on you, smiling up at him so sweetly and expecting. he climbs on the bed then, careful not to step on anything with his knees. “so bossy,” you quip, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

he grunts, but it quickly turns into a hiss as your hand snakes up his thigh before wrapping firmly around his cock, head flushed in the prettiest dark pink. eijirou watches, stroking himself a few times before letting a fat wad of spit hit his shaft to make the glide smoother when he rubs between your puffy pussy lips. neither of them says it, but they both need to take a deep breath and focus on not cumming from barely being touched. you’re just so pretty, it’s fucking with their brain.

the moment your mouth opens katsuki is pushing inside, your pleased moan vibrating along his length. he throws his head back with a groan, planting a hand above the headboard for balance. for each inch you’re taking down your throat, eijirou is squeezing into your soppy hole, stretching you around his fat cock.

“sooo fucking tight and pretty, fuck…she’s sucking me in,” the redhead praises, thumb easily finding your clit again, still sensitive from before, just to feel your walls flutter around him. you mewl, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing yourself to breathe in through your nose, drool dripping from the corners of your mouth and onto the blond’s shaft.

there’s a collective symphony of the lewdest sounds once you find your rhythm. katsuki’s hands holds your hair in a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face, huffin’ n’ puffin’ above you as you stroke his dick, tounge circling his head to milk out every salty drop of precum.

eijirou’s fingers are digging into your hips hard enough to bruise, the neatly kept, red tufts of hair at his base rubbing against your slit, wrenching a whine out of you with each thrust. praises and curses overlap, sometimes fucking into you to match the pace of your head bobs.

you don’t know how long you’ve kept your eyes shut in bliss for, opening them with a jolt when you hear the unmistakable smacking of lips.

and they’re kissing.

eijirou is holding a fistful of blond hair tight, and the way katsuki bites into his friend’s bottom lip, dragging before their tongue fight against each other tells you this is definitely not the first time they’ve done this. you can only watch in awe, hand idly moving up and down katsuki’s dick in slow, lazy stroke, too distracted by what’s happening.

it’s only when eijirou feels you clench around him that he breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting him to his friend until it breaks. he smirks. “who told you to stop?” he reprimands halfheartedly, ramming into you with a punishing snap of his hips. “i was just asking kats here if he feeling good. is she making you feel good?”

he doesn’t let go of his hair, tipping his head back enough to see his adam’s apple bob when he nods, mumbling something unintelligible. “what’s that?” the redhead tugs again, then forcefully makes katsuki turn to you. “don’t have to tell me. tell her, tell her how good she’s making you feel. if her mouth is even half as good as this pussy is, it must be pretty fucking amazing.”

you’re stuffing yourself full of katsuki’s cock again, cheeks hollowing and taking him to the base. he’s flushed, abs twitching with every heaving breath. “fucking good…” he pants, the hand he has pressed against the wall balled up into a fist. “your mouth is so fucking good.”

eijirou chuckles, tapping three fingers flat against your clit, his other hand leaving the other’s hair to hold your leg down when you dare closing them around his waist. he looks over to katsuki. “you want to fuck her?” he hopes the question doesn’t come out too strained, masking the fact that he needs to pull out right fucking now or he’s going to cum.

the blond is a mess, your hands playing with his balls are giving him a hard time, damp golden strands glued to his forehead. he can only reply with a whimper, ruby eyes meeting eijirou’s with a pleading look, even though he knows he won’t make it easy for him. “use your words, like a good boy.”

“yes,” katsuki whines, gazing down at you. “please.”

eijirou pulls out, your hole immediately clenching at the loss as you break away from katsuki, leaving his cock throbbing with need. the redhead pats the side of your thigh in a silent command, and you immediately shuffle to the side. “get on top of kats now, alright?”

all it takes is a look for the blond to take position. “oh, he really is your dog, eiji,” you giggle, cupping his jaw and tugging him down for a sloppy kiss. “that’s so fucking hot.”

“i’m nobody’s fucking dog,” katsuki mumbles, his pout only growing deeper when both you and eijirou turn around and look at him. “whatever…”

you snort softly, throwing a leg over the blond’s lap, his hands immediately settling on your hips. your hand wraps around his shaft to line it up with your drooling hole. eijirou’s chest is pressed flush to your back, fingers finding your waist, slowly maneuvering you to sink down on katsuki’s cock. chin resting on your shoulder so you both can watch him fall apart the moment your pussy sucks in the first couple of inches.

then he’s pushing you down all at once, making the two of you moan in unison so loudly when you’re stuffed full. “f-fuck! fuck you, eiji! a little heads up?” you cry breathlessly, hands planted on the blond’s chest. “d-did i hurt you?” katsuki asks, his poor little self trying his best to keep a somewhat seriously worried face through the overwhelming bliss.

“you’re good, you’re good,” you shake your head reassuringly. “your friend is a bitch though,” you add, hearing a snicker coming from behind you. “focus on kats,” eijirou kisses the side of your throat. “you can call me a bitch later, if you want. it was kinda hot.

you roll your eyes, but it’s hard to ignore katsuki’s hips twitching under you, so you start moving your own up and down, slowly, getting used to his size. the stretch doesn’t sting like his friend’s, but with the new angle you swear you can feel him in your fucking lungs.

your breath gets caught in your throat when eijirou’s index finger slides between your asscheeks, slick with spit, circling your puckered entrance. “you’ve done stuff here before?” he rasps in your ear. you nod. “heh, ‘course you have, naughty girl…go lay down for me then.”

you kiss katsuki when you do, a hand in his hair while the other fists the navy blue sheets, bracing yourself. the blond strokes your back, almost reassuringly, as you ride him slowly, groaning loudly in your mouth when your walls clamp down on him. “f-fuck, eiji…” you’re crying out, stretched on two of his fat digits.

“you’re taking us so well,” eijirou coos. “just getting you ready ‘cause this is gonna be a biiiiig stretch,” he spits again, scissoring his fingers until he can fit a third one. “eijirou, she’s going to fucking cut my dick off…shit—” katsuki bites down on your shoulder. “my steak too juicy, my lobster too buttery,” the redhead mumbles. “i can’t wait to feel this tight little ass on me,” he hunches over to press a kiss to your butt before withdrawing his fingers. “buckle up now, both of you.”

“you better be gentle,” you sneer, looking over your shoulder. “or i am cutting your dick off, kirishima.” the only answer you get is a toothy, shit-eating grin.

tears well up in your eyes when eijirous starts easing in, but both boys are worshiping every inch of you that it transcends the painful sting. “oh my god…” katsuki breaks the brief silence. he can feel his friend’s cock sliding so close to him, and your pussy contracting around him is positively short-circuiting his brain.

“what’s up, kats? getting overwhelmed?” eijirou taunts from above, then squeezes your ass. “see that? how about we pick up the pace now?” you flash him a smile, gasping when he grabs a fistful of you hair to pull you up, back arching oh so pretty.

only once he’s sure he won’t hurt you does he start going rough, the double stimulation wrenching screams out of you that bounce off the walls of katsuki’s room. the blond has no clue what to do with himself, panting and gripping the bedsheets so tight he might rip them to shreds. he doesn’t hold an ounce of control over the situation, he can only watch your tits bounce over his face, the pace set by eijirou, who’s drilling into you hard enough he can hear his balls slap against your skin.

“i-i can’t…slow down…oh fuck, oh fuck—” and then he’s spilling inside you. but he’s not sure either of you have realized, because you’re milking him until he’s raw and sensitive and then more. “eiji…please, harder! wan’ you to go harder, fuck!”

katsuki is too fucked out to protest, whining as your pussy gushes his cum and your slick back on him in short sprays, coating his stomach. he might as well be high right now, and whatever it is…he’s fucking addicted. it’s eijirou who snaps him out of his trance. “kats, rub her clit,” he orders, sounding almost as delirious as he feels. “can tell this pretty is close. hm? aren’t you?”

you’re sobbing, hips moving frantically as you try to fuck back into both of them, chasing your own high. “yes! yes, pleasepleaseplease— katsuki, please!” you mewl when his thumb finds your puffy nub, drawing tight circles into it. he pushes himself up to catch one of your nipples between his lips, driving you right over the edge. your orgasm topples eijirou into his own, and katsuki is glad neither of you supposedly didn’t notice his first, because his second load is filling you to the brim.

then there’s silence. well, not really silence, the room filled with heavy breaths as all three of you try to find some semblance of lucidity. you’re moving in slow motion, the boys careful when they’re pulling out of you so you can collapse on the mattress, flanked by their hot bodies.

“that was insane,” you whisper, swallowing loudly the bit of saliva your dry mouth is still able to produce. “insane doesn’t even begin to explain it,” eijirou chuckles. “i’m gonna get some water.”

you turn to katsuki once his friend has left the room. “hey,” you nuzzle your nose into his shoulder. “are you alright?” he nods, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “i’m great,” he replies gruffly. “are you okay?” his fingers brush against the back of your hand.

“i’ll definitely be sore,” you sigh. “haven’t been so flexible in a looong while, y’know?” he chuckles, shaking his head.

eijirou reappears in the doorway, holding a water bottle. “hey, do you know that was katsuki’s first time? i say we ought to celebrate!” you whip to the side, eyes wide and brows brushing to your hairline. “no fucking way!” you cackle loudly.

“yes way!” the redhead laughs, approaching. katsuki pushes himself up on one elbow. “eijirou, what the fuck!” he waves his other hand angrily. eijirou completely ignores his friend to hand you the water, which you take gladly, sipping two big gulps.

“if we don’t count the times i sucked his dick,” he shrugs. you choke, coughing in disbelief.

“oi!” katsuki protests once more.

“yeah, and i sucked his.”

your forehead falls against katsuki’s side, laughing uncontrollably. he can’t do anything but sigh, snatching the bottle from your lips to quench his own thirst. “i hate you guys, by the way.”

eijirou plops down on the bed, the mattress dipping with an obnoxious squeak. “no you don’t,” he pushes katsuki playfully. “aren’t you already thinking about the next time we’re doing this?” you straighten up at that, smiling ear to ear.

“i know i am!”

┊┊a/n. the fact that this took so damn long to get done is a reminder for me to NEVER post an incomplete series ever again and to wait until i've written everything to put it up. ANYWHOO krbk kissing since pride month starts tomorrow lol