Beefybkg - Yoshii - Laravel

beefybkg

Yoshii

|MDNI|20|They/She

142 posts

Latest Posts by beefybkg - Page 5

beefybkg

2 years ago

This is entirely @boosyboo9206‘s fault.

Warnings: 18+, cult leader Bakugou, coercion, manipulation, gaslighting.

You’d never felt important until Bakugou Katsuki came along. Even though there was almost an entire sea of his congregation his gaze always seemed to focus in on you.

Your friends and family were trying to convince you that it was a cult, that he was blackmailing you and that it was dangerous. That Bakugou Katsuki shouldn’t be trusted, he was being seen as some sort of false prophet. But you knew better, you knew him better than anyone. And he would do anything for you.

“He’ll hurt you,”, “he’s dangerous.” The words locked away in the back of your mind as soon as you set eyes on Bakugou Katsuki again. It would be near impossible for anyone to convince you otherwise when you were in his presence. Your heart, your soul belonged to him.

So time and time again you disobeyed your friends and family and you came to see him, his warm palms holding your cheeks as he’d press a kiss to your forehead. Looking directly into your eyes as he told you how happy he was to have you here, how special you were. How you were his favourite.

That was the day you decided to move into the compound.

Kirishima came to you with warm eyes, wrapping you into a bear hug as he lead you past all the other followers in the settlement. Making you feel special as sets of eyes glowered at you from their positions, wishing that they were in your shoes instead. But they weren’t, you were the special one. Bakugou had told you time and time again, it was always you.

Leading you into Bakugou’s private quarters as he shut the door behind you, making your way over to Bakugou who was sat at his desk looking through various papers. The moment his tired, vermilion eyes glanced up at you his expression changed.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” no matter what he always managed to make you feel special.

That was the day he placed a necklace around your neck, a gift he’d reserved just for you. “A welcome gift” as he put it.

Bringing you towards his bed as he lay you on top of the comforter. Stroking his hands along your curves as he reminded you just how special you were to him, his number one.

The night you gave yourself to Bakugou Katsuki was the day you felt complete. The moment he could have told you anything and you would have blindly followed like it was his dying wish. If he told you to jump you’d simply ask “how high?”. Sitting comfortably in his lap as he acknowledged his congregation. Almost like some sort of supreme deity as his hands slowly smoothed over your thighs. Feeling his hard cock brushing against your ass as he adjusted his posture. Lips pressing onto your jaw as you looked down at the jealous crowd, piercing flares settled on your frame but you didn’t care. Not when you were the one that sat with him, that lay with him at night.

There was no way he was doing this with anyone else, and even if someone told you this was the case you wouldn’t believe them.

The only person that mattered was him.

Your family and friends were still trying to save you from inside the compound, even though you told them you didn’t need saving. That you were okay, that you were with the man you loved.

Security heightening around you as Bakugou sent his most trusted followers to look after you, spending any time without Bakugou with his friends. The more your friends and family tried to save you, the more it pushed you into his arms.

But of course, you didn’t know your family were trying to save you. The stories you were told by Bakugou were stories about your friends and family not caring about you anymore, being happy that you were gone.

Bakugou had even gone to see them one day to see if they wanted to visit you and they’d thrown it back in his face. Asking him to never come round again— “Is that the kind of people you want in your life, Princess? People that don’t care about you- that want to see you unhappy? That don’t love you?” Tears spilling down your cheeks that were quickly brushed away by him, “Its okay, though. Because I love you. I’ll never leave you-”

“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” His calloused fingers stroked along your jaw one night, his palm moving to wrap around your neck as he sheathed himself inside you. Your pliant walls greedily sucking him in as you wrapped your legs around his hips, trying selfishly to pull him impossibly deeper. Nodding your head in affirmation as he tightened his grip around your neck, slowly cutting off your air supply as you felt yourself becoming lightheaded.

“Yeah? Because you’re my favourite, isn’t that right?” His hips rut against yours, his trimmed pubic hair catching against your clit with each movement, heightening your pleasure as you clenched around him at the praise, “And my favourite is so eager and willing to please.”

You gulped in huge mouthfuls of air as he loosened his grip, resting his palm on your sternum to feel your racing heart as your chest heaved in oxygen. His thrusts unrelenting as he sped up, hungrily chasing his own release.

“No matter what happens to me, no matter who tries to take you from me, you’ll always be mine.”

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beefybkg

2 years ago

I plan on making this into a story would anyone be interested in that??

You met Katsuki Bakugo in middle school when you had moved into the house next door and transferred to his school, He wanted you the second he laid eyes on you and he basically forced his way into your life by the second day of class. He demanded your attention and he’d get aggressive if he didn’t get it. The first time it happened it was a few months into the two of you knowing each other and you had been engrossed in a book as you sat in the grass on your front lawn and hadn’t heard Bakugo calling your name from next door he walked over and yanked on your hair hard, something that would become his go-to to put you in check. “if you had just answered the first time I wouldn’t have had to do that” he said offering his hand to help you up before casually telling you whatever it is he needed your attention for at that moment.

One day he found you kneeling in front of a tree, you with your back to him didn’t notice him until he spoke making you jump “What’ere you doin’ nerd?” You turn to him opening your hands to reveal a baby rabbit with a gash on its leg that was slowly healing thanks to your quirk. You smile up at him as the bunny heals and hops away Katsuki however just rolls his eyes and turns around. “Come on, the hag’s making your favorite tonight so y’er stayin’ with me.” he says as you stand up dusting off your uniform following behind him quietly. Even though you lived right next door you spent more time at the Bakugos’ house than your own with your mom working all the time at the hospital it was nice to still be able to eat home-cooked meals you’d even bring leftovers for your mom.

You smile as you walk in greeting both of Katsuki’s parents as he yells “We’re home” before taking you to his room and sitting you at his desk getting your homework out to make you start studying. Nearly every day was like this, Katsuki would wake you up in the morning and you’d both get ready for school; brush your teeth, shower, eat breakfast, brush your teeth again, go to school, come home, study, eat, sleep. this was Katsuki’s routine so this was your routine. On the weekends the two of you were together all day and he liked to work out with you on the weekends, sparring specifically. Katsuki’s favorite part was when he’d pin you down and watch you squirm under him before making you admit defeat with that cute little angry pout on your face.

Both you and Katsuki got into UA but you went into general studies having no interest in being a pro hero. This pleased Katsuki knowing you wouldn’t be in danger, knowing he’d be able to keep you safe. However, being in the hero course Bakugo wouldn’t be able to see you as much as he wants to so instead he demands you text him and when the dorms are built he makes you stay in his dorm this is where you meet Kirishima. Kirishima is handsy, when the three of you walk anywhere together Kirishima always has his hands on you either around your waist or holding your hand he holds you tightly. Which led people to believe the two of you were dating. You thought these allegations would make Katsuki upset, you expected him to be possessive of you like he had always been but he didn’t react whenever anyone would bring it up. You realized that Katsuki had never asked you to be his, you just were. Mina had asked at one point if you were dating Kirishima or Katsuki and at the time you avoided answering but you got your answer not long after.

During the UA sports festival, you were cornered by a guy from your class on your way to meet Katsuki and Kirishima and the boys not appreciating how long it’s taking you go to look for you. When they find you in the hallway Bakugo is the first to speak “The hell you doin’ with our girl?” he stomps over causing the boy to fumble over his words already feeling embarrassed from being rejected by you he quickly leaves after Kirishima who is normally very kind and bubbly growls out a low “fuck off now” before walking over to you and you flinch as katsuki brings his hand into your hair gripping it tight as he leans in “Bunny Rabbit why were you talking to him?” he says quietly with a dangerously calm tone. His tone makes you freeze afraid to say the wrong thing but soon he lets go of your hair and steps back letting Kirishima take his place. Kirishima kisses your cheek and jaw before looking at you lovingly “You’re ours okay pebble? If you talk to other guys you’ll hurt our feelings, you don’t want that do you bunny?” you shake your head as you look up at him it’s always so easy for him to get you to be good, to do exactly as he says. And so you don’t, you don’t talk to anyone but Katsuki and Ejirou and their friends, and for the rest of high school your life revolved around them and they loved it.

high for this — happy bday bkg !

— bakugou x kirishima x fem!reader

‘“Then hit it,” your voice lilts in his ear, a hand coming down to rest on his thigh while the other one brings the joint closer to his face. “Please? Promise we’ll take good care of you.”

His cheeks heat up at that, the implication all too present in the sultry inflection of your voice. In the way your bodies press against either side of him.’

☆ WORD COUNT | 12.2K

☆ SYNOPSIS | Bakugou shares a birthday with weed but he’s never smoked it before. He’s also never fucked you and Kirishima at the same time before. A birthday 2-for-1 special!

☆ CONTAINS | [+18!] quirkless/college au, drug use (weed), alcohol mention, dubcon due to the previous, bi threesome (emphasis on the bi), oral for everyone, double blowjob, spit!!!, facefucking, degradation + degrading names, praise, voyeurism, size kink, frotting, a lot of cum, anal play/rimming, anal sex, piv sex, daisy chain, some roughness, creampie, cum eating, squirting, kiri + bkg interact a lot, some softdom!kiri but switchy behavior all around, kinda imperfect poly dynamics, reader referred to as “girl” + she/her + has hair long enough to be pulled back, bkg gets slutted out ~

☆ NOTES | i know — i know ! this is very late. i hope i make up for it with the fact that this is basically all filth. there are non-monogamous dynamics here that are nuanced and a little messy, possibly confusing… but it’s not really the focus, it’s mostly just a lot of sexy fun. so i hope it’s still enjoyable! happy belated bday to the great explosion murder god himself ♡

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ CROSSPOSTED TO AO3 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“Come on, just one hit won’t kill you.”

White smoke curls up around your lips like tantalizing little vines, snaking through the air until it dissipates into the growing fog in your living room. You’re leaned in close on the couch, joint perched between your fingers and mischief mixing with the hazy look on your face.

Bakugou scoffs at you, but it’s softened by the few too many drinks you and his friends had pushed on him earlier in the night. And his ever-growing affection for you.

“Oh don’t pressure him,” Kirishima pipes up from behind the couch, big hand coming down on Bakugou’s shoulder and squeezing, “he’s the birthday boy, he can do what he wants.”

You pout up at the redhead. “That’s exactly why he should hit it.”

Normally, Bakugou would snap at you to stop fuckin’ talkin’ about him like he’s not here, something you both have become far too comfortable doing, but his sharp tongue seems to smooth out a bit when he’s alone with the two of you. Plus, he’s in a good mood.

The day was… great, to say the least. Not too much of a fuss. Just drinks at a low-key bar nearby, and gifts that weren’t extravagant enough to make Bakugou feel awkward. And you and Kirishima had helped get him out of there before Kaminari and Mina could corral everyone into hitting up a strip club, or whatever other ridiculous shit their drunk minds could think up. Honestly, his birthday had been perfect. Not that he’d tell you both that. But he knows he doesn’t need to.

You rise up on your knees, bringing the joint to Kirishima’s lips to let him puff at it. You’re both crowded around him, Kiri’s broad chest brushing against the back of his head, and your cleavage so close to his cheek that he could turn his face and be buried in it. He watches you in his peripheral, tits bouncing lightly as you giggle when Kiri coughs and retreats towards the kitchen for water. When you lower back down into the couch, you’re giving him a knowing look, and he fights the urge to reach out and squish your cheeks in his hand.

You infuriate him, in your own awful, annoying, endearing way — you always have, ever since Kirishima first brought you into their lives. Somehow that has led him here, unimaginably comfortable splayed out on this couch in yours and Kirishima’s shared apartment – an apartment he, admittedly, spends more time in than his own.

Leaning forward over the coffee table to tap the ash off the joint, you continue your devious nagging. “You share a birthday with weed and you’ve never even tried it. It’s unnatural.”

“Weed does not have a fuckin’ birthday,” he grunts, watching your glossy lips wrap around the thin stick once more. “And Kirishima’s hair is unnatural, you don’t seem to give a shit about that.”

You press on, ignoring the quip. “Uhh weed does have a birthday. And you’re twins. Happy birthday to you both.”

Bakugou snorts, waves away the smoke that swirls up between you, “That shit’s makin’ you sound even dumber than usual.”

“Well it’s making you look less ugly than usual.”

“Ugly, huh? Guess weed turns you into a dummy and a liar.”

Chips and water bottles plop down on the coffee table, interrupting your playful squabbling as Kirishima re-enters the room.

“You don’t gotta do it if you’re scared, bro. I get it, I was super nervous when I first smoked.”

Bakugou scowls over at his friend where he’s settling in on the other side of him. “‘M not scared.”

“Then hit it,” your voice lilts in his ear, a hand coming down to rest on his thigh while the other one brings the joint closer to his face. “Please? Promise we’ll take good care of you.”

His cheeks heat up at that, the implication all too present in the sultry inflection of your voice. In the way your bodies press against either side of him.

The unspoken suggestion isn’t entirely out of left field. The nature of your triangular relationship is… confusing. More than platonic, less than romantically committed — at least where Bakugou is concerned. But what isn’t confusing is the fact that he already knows both of your bodies intimately, and you his. (Kirishima even more so than you.)

But he hasn’t known them both at the same time — a fact that has been looming over all three of you for months now.

Apparently you and Kiri have decided that today would be the day. A birthday present for the hot-head you’ve absorbed into your relationship.

Or maybe you were absorbed into his and Kirishima’s?

The details are muddled static in Bakugou’s brain, his nerves making his mind race as you both watch him expectantly.

“Bro, you really don’t have to if you don’t—“

He’s cut off by an exasperated growl. “If I hit it, will you both shut up?”

Kiri grins, and the corners of your mouth twitch up, bringing the the joint back into view.

He plucks it from your hand, grumbling that he can do it himself as he brings the papery tip to his lips. Kirishima’s good-natured warnings about not hitting it too hard fall on deaf ears as Bakugou breathes in deep… and immediately sputters a cough into the crook of his arm. You snort and take the offending stick back, Kiri opening a water bottle and handing it over with mumbles of something just a bit nicer than “I told ya so”.

When the coughing fit dies down, there’s a heaviness settled over him, like invisible weights strapped to each of his limbs. His chest burns, and his head is foggy, and Bakugou isn’t sure he really likes the feeling — but then Kiri’s thigh presses against his as he relaxes further into the couch, and you run your hand over his bicep while you ask if he’s ok, and every little touch makes his whole body tingle. And Bakugou… finally gets why people like this shit.

You giggle, and he realizes he’s said that last bit out loud. “See, feels nice, right?”

Time seems to start dragging on a bit slower as the high really settles into his bones, and he feels somehow both profoundly relaxed, and buzzing right down to his nerve-endings all at once. You continue puffing away at the joint, absentmindedly playing with Bakugou’s hair as Kiri puts something on the tv before turning and gesturing for you to pass the weed over. Shaking your head at your boyfriend, you instead beckon him towards you with a crook of your finger. A saucy little “c’mere…” reeling him in closer as you take another big drag from the joint.

The both of you lean over the blonde’s lap, faces coming together just inches in front of his. Bakugou is hyper-focused on the sliver of space between your lips — the way yours purse to blow a slow stream of milky smoke, and Kiri’s fall open to accept your gift. So close, a simple swipe of tongue could connect you. It’s an intimate exchange, thick with a sensuality that Bakugou swears is coating his throat and making it hard to swallow.

It feels like ages before the two of you finally pull away, and his eyes follow Kirishima as he settles back on his right. Red brows raise at him curiously, chest puffing out as he inhales the smoke a bit deeper. Bakugou is staring, he knows he is. He can’t help it. His friend has always been easy on the eyes — pretty, even. Although, if he ever told him that, he knows he’d chuckle nervously and deny it. So he just stares silently, and thinks it. But Kirishima has an uncanny way of reading his thoughts, better than anyone else in his life.

And this time is no different, amusement pulling up the corners of Kiri’s mouth, boldness guiding his calloused hand to the back of the blonde’s neck as he leans in. There’s a split second of confusion, Bakugou’s mind wading through the molasses of his high to try and catch up with what’s going on, but then Kiri is blowing the smoke still in his lungs right into the space between his lips.

From you, to Kirishima, to him. A link of breaths, an unconventional chain made up of musky smoke and sighs and things unspoken. It tastes nice on Bakugou’s tongue. It doesn’t burn his chest like his first hit did. It’s been cooled in the exchange, the harsh bite of it taken away with each pass from mouth to mouth, leaving him with something light and comfortable and warm.

Bakugou wonders if he deserves that.

Kirishima’s lips brush softly against his. Silent reassurance that he does.

And then, as things tend to do when you’re high and horny, one thing simply leads to another. It’s a whirlwind of kisses and wandering hands, and then the kisses become deeper, bleeding into each other, and the hands wander further, their touch melting together. And Bakugou ends up turned around to face you with Kirishima at his back.

Your tongue in his mouth is familiar, and yet entirely new, and in this state the contrast between kissing you and his best friend becomes even more obvious. While the man behind him feels rugged against his skin, he always kisses gingerly at first, maneuvering slowly, tenderly, like he’s savoring it. Like he’s handling something delicate and skittish.

You, on the other hand, have lips like velvet, skin supple and smooth where he cradles your face. But you suck harshly and nip at him, pull at his bottom lip with your teeth and smile devilishly when he hisses.

Where Kirishima is hard, you’re soft – and where you’re rough, he’s gentle.

You’re halfway onto Bakugou’s lap, straddling one of his thighs and raised up on your knees so he has to tilt his head up to you. Holding his face in your hands, you lick eagerly into his mouth, suck at his tongue when you feel it slide against yours. That pulls a soft groan from his chest, and his hips grind just a bit against your thigh, giving you a preview of his desire in the form of a poke.

One of your hands trails down the side of his neck, over the muscular slope of his chest and the firm valley of his stomach until it’s found its target on the inside of his thigh. Bakugou can’t help but moan when you press your palm into his cock where it’s currently throbbing against him, trapped uncomfortably in the leg of his jeans.

“So hard already,” you murmur against Bakugou’s mouth as you rub your hand up and down his length.

“He’s been hard since we started smoking,” Kiri chimes in between wet kisses to his neck.

Bakugou glares back with a lighthearted huff. “Always starin’ at my fuckin’ dick, Red.”

A low chuckle. “Yeah? Am I in trouble?”

“You fuckin’— agh!”

Kirishima bites down on his shoulder, just hard enough to make the blonde’s mouth fall open, and you seize your chance to swallow the sound.

It would be embarrassing, how well the pair of you are currently playing Bakugou like a tuned-up instrument, but the weed has his mind so fogged that all he can feel is the pleasurable heat simmering in his veins. The plushness of your skin in his palms as he runs them over your waist, and the firmness of his childhood friend’s well-built body against his back, and both of your hands and mouths all over him all at once — it’s more than he can handle. So he just lets himself lean further into Kirishima’s familiar hold and watches with heavy-lidded eyes as you pull his shirt over his head and start working his jeans down his legs.

“Gonna let us take care of you, right, birthday boy?” Your voice is a siren song in his ear, gravelly from the smoke you’d inhaled, pitched down with temptation. The snarky comment you’d usually receive in return is lost to a pleasured little nnghh when you lower yourself down and press your warm mouth to his cock through his briefs, flick your tongue out to taste the growing wet spot on the fabric. Then you’re hooking your fingers into the waistband, watching gleefully when you free the rigid length from its confines and it bobs up to hit his toned stomach with a slap.

All the while Kirishima’s calloused hands explore, tender in their travels, ghosting over scars and squeezing lovingly at the spots that make him crazy (his waist, his pecs, the inner part of his thighs). He hooks his chin over the blonde’s shoulder and licks his lips hungrily at the sight of his cock, which is jumping in frustration as you kiss teasingly over his thighs.

It’s flushed a heated pink at the tip and oozing dews of precum that are simply too pretty to ignore, so Kiri dips his finger in it, spreads the sticky substance around the head to make it shine before raising his hand back up and watching a thick, clear thread stretch before snapping.

“Bein’ so good for us,” Kiri murmurs under his breath, a secret for them to share, and brings his finger to his own mouth to taste the salty arousal on it. He rubs the mix of saliva and pre over Bakugou’s nipple, rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. “Let us know if this is too much, ok?”

And it is too much, but not in a way that’s unpleasant. So Bakugou responds with only a shuddered breath and his head falling back on the redhead’s shoulder, heavy with his high and the creeping heat of pleasure as you finally drag your tongue up the underside of his cock. He lets the bigger man turn his face to the side with a gentle hand, slots his mouth with his in a slow, hungry kiss.

He’s pulsing against your tongue, impossibly hard and aching for the feel of your mouth, and still you take your time. Licking coyly around the head, letting it leak right onto your tastebuds. Bakugou finally finds his voice again to curse down at you, and it comes out hoarse, whinier than you’ve ever heard him.

“Stop bein’ such a damn cock tease.”

You chuckle, but relent, abandoning your teasing to finally sink your lips down on him. It lights Bakugou on fire, his toes curling and nails digging into Kiri’s forearms where they’re wrapped around his torso. So sensitive. You bob your head up and down slowly at first, then faster, slurping and sucking until you’ve gotten it nice and sloppy – which is when Kiri’s hands come to gather your hair out of your face, holding it all back in one fist and using the other to grip Bakugou’s dick tightly, stroke him right into your mouth.

You moan approvingly at the addition of your boyfriend’s hand, a sweet little mmnnn that rings out from your throat and vibrates down Bakugou’s length right to his very core. The sound joins the noisy schlickschlick of Kirishima pumping his hand up and down, the movements practiced and effortless as he grips and twists, squeezing more and more precum from the tip for you to eagerly swallow. You stick your tongue out, let Kiri slap the head against it with a cheeky smile spreading your lips and exposing your teeth, far too pleased with the way Bakugou is trying his best to stifle his own moans and keep his hips from rolling.

Wrapping your lips back around the thick cock being jerked off in your face, you hollow your cheeks and suck hard, making your shared victim curse brokenly. You and Kiri exchange a conspiratory look, and then he’s grinning sleepily down at you.

“How’s his cock taste, pretty girl?”

Your lashes flutter and you make a sound that could be “so good” if it wasn’t completely muffled by skin, refusing to pop it back out of your mouth for even a moment to answer. Your boyfriend chuckles, feeling his own cock stir at watching the enthusiastic way in which you suck someone else’s – but his own needs can wait.

“Need some help down there?”

An earnest nod from you, and then Kirishima is shifting carefully from behind the near boneless body in front of him, sinking down onto his knees beside you to properly assist in servicing the birthday boy.

You continue sucking while keeping your gaze on Kiri, now close enough that you can make out the inky dilation of his pupils, the lustful flush on his cheeks. And he watches you, enamored, hypnotized by your fuck-me eyes and the way your lips pout and your cheeks hollow — his sweet little girlfriend with a nasty little mouth.

“Y’look so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” he muses, and saliva pools in his own when you hum your appreciation and trace your lips down the side of Bakugou’s shaft, giving him access to the other side. He leans in, licks up a pulsating vein with a groan. The taste is distinctly Bakugou, heady and musky and manly. And it’s distinctly you, sweet like those drinks you order, light like your flavored gloss. He goes back for another taste, and then your tongues are dancing in unison over Bakugou’s dick.

“Jesus fuck, that’s so— fuckin’ good—“ Bakugou’s words are clipped and strained as you both slather his dick with your spit. Up and down, up and down the length of him, until you’re meeting at the top and tangling together in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss around the head.

It’s messy, uncoordinated, drool coating both of your lips and smearing across chins and cheeks. Wet sounds and muffled moans fill the air as you make out with a dick wedged between you. It’s a sight Bakugou had never known he needed to see, but now he’s watching intently, jaw slack and lids heavy, wanting to burn the image into his memory. If his brain wasn’t so scrambled he’d pull out his phone and hit record, keep the moment in his pocket for him to fuck his fist to later.

Wrapped up in the kiss, you both pull away, your hand finding the blonde’s cock to stroke it as you continue exploring Kiri’s mouth. The twist and pull of your palm is slippery, but not slippery enough, so you break the kiss and stick your tongue out. And Kirishima understands exactly what you want, making a show of placing his big hands on either side of your face and tilting it up for him, pressing his lips together and letting spit flow freely down onto your waiting tongue. You turn with a glint in your eye, letting his saliva mix with your own behind your lips before spitting it all out to coat Bakugou’s dick.

A thought flits through his mind about the three-way hit from earlier, but it fizzles out as soon as you suck him sloppily back into your mouth. “Awh, fuck–”

And then Kiri’s tongue is lapping at his balls, and Bakugou’s head sinks back on the couch cushions. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—“

He feels like jelly, melting right into both of your hungry mouths. Nothing but the sensation of slick lips and warm tongues, and silky spit rolling down his balls and seeping between his thighs. You and Kiri are switching back and forth, sharing him between you like it’s an everyday couple’s activity, one you’re both especially passionate about doing together. It’s insane — you’re both insane, hell-bent on turning him into a puddle right there on your living room couch.

And Bakugou is a puddle, splayed out on the cushions, panting with his head thrown back and his arms crossed over his face, just lost in it. Until Kirishima suddenly sinks his teeth into his inner thigh.

“Agh—!”

Bakugou’s hips jerk involuntarily at the bite, ramming his cock up into your throat as his gaze is forced back to you both kneeled before him. The sound of you gagging stirs Kiri on, and he places a big hand on the back of your neck to keep you in place before delivering another, harsher bite to his friend’s thigh. Another buck of the blonde’s hips and your eyes begin to water. But you look up at him, and through the sparkle of your wet lashes is an expression completely glazed over with lust.

Bakugou sneers down at you, suddenly stirred on just like Kiri. “Y’like that shit?” You don’t have to respond (not that you can, with his girth filling out your mouth), he knows very well how much you do. “Here, take it then.”

And then there are two more hands holding you down, steady against the back of your head to make sure you can’t move away as Bakugou rolls his hips up towards your face.

“Stick your tongue out, like that, yeah–”

You obey, and he grunts his approval as he fucks your mouth like it’s nothing more than a warm, wet toy. It’s slow, lazy, but hard and invasive, cock dragging back and forth along your tongue, pumping precum so deep it feels like you might choke on it. Your throat spasms and aches as it takes the sudden beating from his cock head prodding at it, a copious amount of drool filling your mouth as your body’s natural attempt at lubricating. It bubbles around your lips, drips down in thick globs onto his lap.

And that’s what Bakugou wanted, really, the mess – to see the way tears roll down your cheeks and spit smears on your lips, the way you seem to go perfectly dumb for his dick. It’s cute, honestly, and he can’t help but tell you so, filth tumbling from his mouth as he uses yours to get off.

“So fuckin’ cute,” he says between ragged breaths, “so cute when you’re chokin’ on me. Fuck, yeah, keep that mouth open–”

You’re doing your best to breathe through your nose, taking the rough treatment while trying not to drown in your own spit, when Bakugou suddenly stills his hips and gives your head a hard push down.

“All the way down, like a good little slut,” he grunts, angling his hips up to try and invade your esophagus, feel how tight it is around his aching cock. There’s still so much of him your mouth can’t fit, and you gag hard, instinctually trying to pull off. But you’re met with the resistance of not two, but three strong hands.

Kirishima pushes gently, but firmly, at the back of your neck, coaxing you to take his best friend’s cock further down your throat with coos of encouragement. “There ya go baby,” his voice is husky and dark in your ear, eyes blown and pink-tinged as he watches more of Bakugou’s length disappear past your swollen lips, “be a good girl and swallow that dick.”

And then something in your throat gives, and your eyes roll back in your head as your lips finally meet a sticky pelvis, nose nuzzling into a dewy nest of dirty-blonde pubes.

“Ugh– there it is, fuck yeah–” Bakugou groans, deep and guttural as he pumps shallowly up into your throat, the visible bulge in your neck making Kirishima echo him with a lewd groan of his own. The only sounds you can muster are gurgles – besides the obscene wet gluckgluckglucks of your throat being relentlessly fucked, but you can hardly claim that you are the one making those sounds ring out.

You’re finally set free, hands releasing you to shoot back up and gasp for air. You cough and sputter, a hazy smile curling your wet lips up once you’ve caught your breath, and you peer up at Bakugou, who returns your smile with a satisfied smirk of his own. But the cocky expression is quickly wiped off his face when Kiri takes him in his hand and replaces your throat with his own, descending on him with an ease that makes the blonde’s face contort.

Crawling up onto the couch, you smooth your hand down Bakugou’s chest. He looks positively ravaged; Lips reddened from where he keeps pulling them between his teeth, face and chest flushed pink and shining with a light sheen of sweat, honeyed hair mussed by his hands continuously running through it. And his eyes, usually piercing and fiery, have lost their heat. They’re glazed over, glowing with his high and swimming with pleasure.

He’s gorgeous like this, you think, picturesque in his wreckage, and you can’t look away — not when his eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open, not when his hands reach out and tangle in red locs, not when his gaze finally lifts back to you and he tilts his chin up to silently ask for a kiss. You give it to him, of course — it is his birthday, after all — but then you can’t help but nose against his cheek and tease him just a bit.

“And to think, you weren’t gonna smoke with us.”

He grits his teeth into a semblance of a smile, lids heavy as he looks up at you through thick, blonde lashes. “I like ya better with my—hahh— my cock in your throat. Talk a lot less that way.” Another moan seeps from between his lips, eyes darting to watch Kirishima suck at his balls before returning to you. He reaches out, fists impatiently at the hem of your top. “Take this shit off an’ come sit on my face.”

There’s a slick pop and then Kiri is rising to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and flashing you both a toothy grin. He suggests you all move into the bedroom, squeezing the obvious outline of his hard cock in his pants as he does so, and you’re being scooped up into Bakugou’s strong arms before you can reply.

He pads down the hallway with your legs hugged around his tapered waist and your arms wrapped around his neck. Hands grope roughly at your ass as he carries you easily — which is surprising only because he’s not looking where he’s going, too preoccupied with tasting himself on your tongue.

You’re deposited onto the bed with an oomph, bouncing against the mattress where you’re unceremoniously thrown. You look up to see Bakugou completely naked, cut body glistening in the dim light and cock bobbing heavy between his legs. He’s staring back down at you hungrily, like an animal that’s caught its prey, that sharp look in his carmine eyes back out to play – and you’re suddenly reminded of the incessant throbbing between your legs.

“I said,” he grips the buttons of your pants, pulls them roughly down your legs as if their presence offends him, “take this shit off.”

You’re stripped and straddling the birthday boy’s face before Kirishima is even back in the room. And when he does return he’s got what’s left of the joint re-lit and held between his lips, water and towels cradled in his arms. He stops in his tracks when he sees the position you two are in; You, with your thighs encasing Bakugou’s head, bent forward and draped over him so your face is right over that pretty cock. And Bakugou, splayed out underneath you, one leg bent and propped up, dick still shining with the evidence of the treatment it had gotten earlier. It’s throbbing and jumping as you grind down onto his face, your lips formed into a cute little ‘o’ as he slurps loudly, shamelessly at your cunt.

Your eyes flutter open when you hear the light crackle of Kiri puffing on the joint, finding him leaned against the door jam, so big he fills up the doorway and his hair brushes against the top of the frame. He’s watching, ruby eyes glittering, taking another lazy drag and blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth. His sexiness is effortless, easy, like it's built right into that sturdy foundation of his – and the sight of him enjoying the sight of you goes straight to your pussy, sends a wave of arousal leaking from your slit and right onto Bakugou’s lips.

You mewl, and Kiri’s eyes wander down your connected bodies, palming at his cock through his pants as he takes you both in. “How’s he doin’, baby girl?”

“Mmnn… good. But he’s so impatient.”

A heavy hand comes down on your ass, squeezing the sting away, and a disapproving grunt vibrates against your clit. Much like you, Bakugou won’t unlatch from you to say what he wants – instead, he’ll scrunch his face up and let your core absorb his words. You imagine it’s something like “shut the hell up” or “it’s my birthday, you fucks” and you let out a snicker, which unravels into a squeak when you get another swat to your ass.

You straighten up and reach out to Kiri, wanting him closer. And he comes easily, tapping out the joint and setting down what he’d brought along, pulling his shirt over his head. He kneels on the bed, and dips his face down to drink up the little sounds spilling from your mouth.

Your fingers trail down the hard ridges of Kiri’s chest as the tip of Bakugou’s tongue trails up your slit. You keep feeling him, feeling the way his broad chest expands with each breath, the way his toned stomach tenses under your touch. He’s so big, muscular in a way that’s so different from the body underneath you; Where Bakugou is cut and rigid, Kirishima is thick, almost soft, the kind of muscle you can sink your fingers into. And you do, squeezing at him, earning happy little sighs breathed onto your mouth, your jaw, the side of your neck.

You’re kissing each other slowly, deeply, and the moment is sweet, yet so nasty — punctuated by the wet sounds of a tongue swirling around your clit.

Kirishima curses when your hand finally presses against his cock, so hot with neglect that you can feel the warmth through the thick fabric of his pants. You smile against his mouth. “You like watching us, Red?”

His nose nuzzles against yours, panting as you rub harder into him. “Shit… yeah, I do.” A deep, shuddering breath. “A lot.”

“You like sucking dick a lot, too.”

It’s not a question, but Kiri bites at his lip and answers anyway.

“Yeah, I do.”

You whine, heat crackling in your belly from both the admittance, and the harsh suck to your clit. Kiri adds on with a chuckle, “might like watching you do it more, though.”

Your fingers hook into his waistband and pull his hips forward. “Wanna watch me suck yours now?”

“Thought we were taking care of the birthday boy.”

You bat your lashes, and Kiri truly wants nothing more than to see your eyes water again.

“I can take care of you both at the same time.”

“Fuck…”

He’s back off the bed and pushing his pants down his thighs without any further discussion, cock bouncing and bending under its own weight as he moves to position himself between Bakugou’s legs. There’s a surprised mmph from underneath you when his knees are pushed open wider to accommodate the larger man, but it tapers off into a low groan when he feels the heaviness of Kirishima’s hard cock slapping down onto his own.

Bending forward at the waist, you grip Kiri’s cock in your hand, so thick that your fingers struggle to connect around its girth, throbbing so hard it seems to grow even bigger in your hold. He watches you with dark eyes as you drag your tongue up the thick vein on the underside, breathes a little “so pretty” when you look back up at him.

You flick your tongue teasingly at the tip and pull back so the sticky fluid of his arousal connects you for just a moment, before you wrap your lips around it to suck the rest off. He’s salty, musky, hot and heavy — adding to the growing cocktail of sin filling your senses and making your head spin.

You’re quick to try taking him all the way in your mouth, egged on by your own arousal, and gag hard when he hits the back of your throat. Kiri groans, tucking your hair out of your face gently as he keeps himself from snapping his hips forward and forcing his cock all the way in, despite how he knows you wouldn’t mind – despite how badly he wants to. Instead he watches you strain to fit him in your mouth, the way your lips stretch around him and your cheeks fill out with his girth. It’s almost better than forcing it – watching you work so hard to do it yourself.

You bob and slurp, use your hand to stimulate what won’t fit in your mouth. And more and more drool collects around his cock, pools in your fist and drips slowly down onto Bakugou’s dick underneath it.

“Ohhh shit, yeah–” the man above you pants, strokes sweetly at your cheek, “get it nice an’ wet…”

Holding him tightly in your fist, you dip your head down to lick up the spit that’s landed on the blonde’s milky skin, earning a desperate roll of his narrow hips. You wrap your lips around him next, let the redhead jerk his cock over your face while he watches – the way you know he loves to do – before switching back. You keep working like that, going back and forth from cock to cock, sucking Bakugou eagerly into your mouth and then letting Kiri guide you back with a gentle hold on your chin.

All the while, you’re giving Bakugou a view to rival the double blowjob – your cunt spread and bent over in his face, skin so wet and soft it’s like satin, pretty hole leaking endlessly down onto his tongue. He’s shameless, the way he digs his fingers into the fat of your ass, uses rough thumbs to pull your pussy lips apart before spitting right into it. He flattens his tongue, catches the drip and tastes you from clit to slit, then buries it in that little hole, spearing you on it like a man out to kill. You squeak, try to wriggle away, but he hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you back down with a growl of “don’t you fuckin’ move” before diving back in.

The way he fucks you on his tongue is for him, really, not for you – but even so, the way the muscle stretches you out, swirls and flicks inside you as it tries desperately to push deeper, to taste deeper, it feels so nasty. So good. You arch your back, moan around Kiri’s cock about how good his tongue feels, and Bakugou just smirks against your cunt. Pleased with himself. He knows it’s fuckin’ good — he knows how to make you squirm.

He runs a thumb through your folds, wets it with the mixture of your slick and his spit, before circling it into your clit. It’s swollen, throbbing under the pad of his thumb, and your walls tighten, gush more bittersweet juice for him to drink up.

Kiri’s dick pops out of your mouth as you’re overtaken by the sudden swell of pleasure, and you cry out a shrill warning.

“Fuckfuck, Katsuki, if you keep doing that–”

“Do it,” he says, gruff and demanding, “fuckin’ give it to me.”

So Kirishima takes over in your mission of taking care of them both — presses his sticky cock up against Bakugou’s and fists them both together to the sight of you losing yourself. You’re bracing yourself with both hands on Bakugou’s stomach, tits pushed together so pretty between your arms, eyes rolling shut and mouth falling open on a moan.

Kirishima is slack-jawed as he watches you buck and grind, fucking yourself back on his friend’s tongue. So beautiful chasing your own high. His fist is slipping quickly over both their cocks, squeezing them together tightly, rutting his hips and sending shockwaves of pleasure through them both.

“Fuck, Ei, s-slow the fuck down” — is what Bakugou tries to say, but it comes out garbled, slurred into your skin. He’s so sensitive, and everything is so wet. Your pussy dripping, his chin slippery, his dick and Kirishima’s sliding over each other and squelching lewdly. And you’re all in his senses, coating his tongue, filling his every breath, singing like an angel as you tell him you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna cum right on his face —

So his hips jerk, and his voice strains in his throat, and he shoots his load hard, all up his stomach and onto his chest and between Kiri’s fingers. It just keeps coming, makes a mess of his torso and collects in Kirishima’s hand, coats both their cocks in milky white that he keeps pumping up and down the length of them.

And the sight is so messy, so filthy, both cocks sliding against each other, frothing with a gooey mixture of pre, spit, and cum. It makes that swelling wave of heat in your core grow bigger, bigger still — and Kirishima sees it on your face, whines as he overstimulates Bakugou and brings himself closer to the edge, encouraging you to “let it go, baby— there ya go, cum right on his tongue—”

And then the wave is suddenly crashing, white-hot and roaring in your ears.

You’re trembling, crying out, grinding down on Bakugou’s tongue, which he now has outstretched for you, hands digging desperately into your hips as he bucks into Kirishima’s fist – still, somehow, able to keep his composure enough to help you ride out your orgasm. Lightning is shooting up his spine, making him twitch and moan, but your release washing over his tongue may as well be the god damn elixir of life. He can see your pussy clenching, see it leaking liquid gold right onto his face, and it tastes like paradise in his mouth. He’s focused on slurping it up, making you scream and gyrate as pleasure wracks your body like something violent and unforgiving.

And, like some sort of carnal chemical reaction, Kiri grabs hold of your face, moans a strained “cumming— oh shit i’m cumming—!” into your mouth as he follows you both over the edge. He bucks once, twice in his fist and then his balls are tightening where they’re sliding against the other man’s, and he’s spilling over, thick and hot into his hand.

It mixes with Bakugou’s cum, almost indiscernible from it as ropes shoot up and land on his stomach. But it’s thicker, heavier, it doesn’t reach all the way up to his collarbones. And there’s more of it, so much more that it splatters the smaller man with white, pools in the deep grooves of his abs and sticks there.

You’re all panting hard when you finally roll over and collapse into the sheets. It’s hot, stiflingly so, sweat collecting in the crease of your thighs – or is that your own cum?

The boys breathe deep next to you, Kirishima sat on his knees, Bakugou with his arms up over his face. It’s silent for a moment, besides the sounds of you all gasping, and the hammering in your own chest.

You let your head roll to the side, checking that your partners are still alive, and are met with the sight of Bakugou’s torso absolutely painted with white.

A stunned exhale. “Holy shit…”

Kiri’s eyes slide to you, dazed. “You ok?”

“Yeah, that is just… so much cum. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much cum before. It’s like, cartoonish.”

There’s a choking sound – a snort – and then Bakugou is laughing, big and boisterous, mouth wide and teeth bared. It fills the room like fireworks, so bright it lights up yours and Kiri’s faces too.

“Stop laughing,” Kirishima chuckles, clean hand forming a cup by Bakugou’s side to catch the cum currently sliding down it, “it’s gonna get on the sheets.”

“Well then gimme a fuckin’ towel, dumbass.”

The smell of sex and smoke hangs heavy in the air. It sticks to your skin, makes you feel tacky as you shift in the bedsheets. You reach out to take the joint (well, the burnt nub that’s left) from between Kiri’s fingers, puffing on it gingerly before blowing some into Bakugou’s mouth. He’s decided he likes it better that way – straight from your or Kirishima’s lungs.

“Doesn’t burn so damn much,” he’d grumbled when he’d asked you to do it for him. You’d rolled your eyes, but leaned in to give him some of your breath anyways.

You’re all still half naked, you in one of Kiri’s t-shirts and the boys both in briefs. Laid out on soiled sheets as a thin haze fills the room, basking in the humid afterglow of your orgasms. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the three of you together, but you feel so profoundly comfortable that you find yourself sighing deeply and smiling up towards the ceiling.

“What?” Bakugou eyes you from where he lies beside you, noticing the little quirk of your lips – which he often does, notices your little tells.

“Nothing, just high. And happy.” You roll onto your side, passing the joint back to Kiri as you prop your head up in your hand, “is that a crime?”

“The first one is in a lot of places, yeah. Maybe I’ll call the cops on ya. Turn your ass in.”

You push playfully at Bakugou’s chest, and he catches your wrist in his hand with a wolfish grin, holding you there against him.

You jut your chin out at him defiantly. “Eiji’ll bail me out.”

Bakugou glances down to where the redhead is laid across the foot of the bed, his head resting on the blonde’s thigh with a hand behind his neck. Your gaze follows when your boyfriend stays silent for a beat too long, mouth falling open with an incredulous call of “Babe?”

Kirishima blows smoke up into the air with a sigh, drags out his words like they’re hard to say. “Yeah, I would.”

“Tch. So fuckin’ soft for this brat.”

Leaning your weight on Bakugou’s chest, you lift yourself up over him to gloat – like a brat. “Jealousy’s really ugly on you, Kats–”

The room blurs as he flips you over, appearing on top of you in a second with a snarl. You kick your legs as he slots himself between them, giggling and beating at his chest with your fists – which he intercepts easily, gathering your wrists in one hand to pin over your head.

“Y’talk a lotta shit for someone so weak.”

Fingers dig roughly into your sides, making you yelp and squirm against his weight, which is pressed down onto you, keeping you firmly in place. “Go ahead, brat – talk your shit.” He forces more gasps of laughter from you with a twisted grin, eyes on fire. “Can’t fuckin’ hear you, speak up!”

“Eiji, help me!”

And then, magically, the weight is lifted off of you.

In a flash, Bakugou is laid out on his back, hands pinned by his head, held in place by two larger ones. He looks a lot like you just did, fighting and huffing – except he’s actually giving his captor some hell, Kirishima flexing and gritting his teeth as he holds him down on the bed.

It’s lighthearted, grunted laughter slipping out between heavy breaths. But it’s also intense, in the way two men wrestling just inherently is.

Locking limbs and bulging muscles, so much power packed into each strained movement and kept from exploding outward only by the strength of the other. Like two stags connected by twisted antlers, they’re opposing forces keeping them firmly in place. It gives you the impression that if you were to be wedged in between them, they’d crush you. And that… excites you.

Bakugou hooks his legs around Kiri’s waist with a biting smile, muscles tensing as he tries to twist and buck him off – and the bigger man falters, almost flips over, but slams the blonde back down with a smile of his own.

“Get off me you fuckin’ brute!”

A breathless laugh from Kirishima, red hair shaking loose around his face. “Oh I’m a brute?”

“Yeah!” One of Bakugou’s hands slips free and he claps it around the back of Kiri’s neck, pulling him down until their foreheads are knocking together. “You are.”

And then there’s a shift, the energy suddenly heavy. No longer playful, but thick and serious. Wanton.

They’re panting, naked chests pressed together, expanding in time with each other. Bakugou huffs, his eyes flickering down to Kiri’s mouth. There’s a moment of anticipation, suspended and buzzing in the air, heating up until it starts to boil.

“All that hair dye’s gone right to your fuckin’ brain.” Bakugou’s voice is low, breath puffing against parted lips. Kirishima’s nose slides against his. “Made you a damn animal.”

“Whatever you say.”

And then they’re meeting in the middle, mouths coming together in a heated kiss. Kiri’s face pressing down, Bakugou’s chin lifting to chase after that pressure. The redhead’s tongue darts out, asks for entry at the seam of his partner’s lips. And the blonde gives it willingly, passionately, answering with an eager tongue of his own.

They kiss like that for a moment, hot and heavy, pushing and pulling, exploring each other’s mouths like new lovers and not like ones who have been here many times before. Their skin glistens and muscles ripple, tangled so tightly in each other that it’s almost hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. And you can only watch, feeling like you shouldn’t be — like a voyeur.

And that seems to make your whole body hot.

It’s almost like you’re watching through a screen, a slab of glass fogged over by your high and the haze of smoke, and the thick steam that is your own desire — until suddenly that screen is punctured, a hand reaching out through the fog.

Kirishima pulls you into their orbit gently, but with a strength that makes you feel comfortable, like you can lean all the way into it and not float away. His hand cradles the side of your neck, coaxes you to come closer and kiss him. His lips are already wet and swollen, and they taste slightly different — an added sweetness you can’t quite place. Before you can think about it too long, another hand is redirecting you down, Bakugou stealing your lips away.

Wet sounds and pleasured sighs trickle through the air, you and Bakugou locked together hungrily as Kiri litters kisses down the smaller man’s chest. He takes his time running his tongue over the skin, sucking at it, tasting the sweat there — gratuitously, selfishly, knowing Bakugou won’t hurry him along like he usually does. Not with you tugging at this scalp and moaning into his mouth.

Kirishima is not a selfish lover, not by any means, but he’s also not wholly an angel. So he takes what he can get when he can get it. And right now that means taking advantage of the time he has, descending slowly. Slipping Bakugou’s briefs down his legs and running his lips along the scattered freckles on the insides of his thighs and hips. He could stay just like this, ruby eyes cast up to watch you both indulge in each other, while he indulges in the body beneath him.

But then he gets a little too eager, pushing Bakugou’s legs open wide and breathing a small “fuck…” at the sight of his hole before dipping down to taste it.

Bakugou breaks the kiss, gaze dragged down by the slick feeling of a tongue between his cheeks. His mouth falls open, face feverish as his hand moves to cup his balls, kneading them softly and holding them out of the way to give Kiri better access.

Kirishima’s tongue snakes out, big and thick just like the rest of him, and runs achingly slow over the little ring of muscle. Around and around in deliberate, wet circles. Then he’s drooling down onto it just to lap it back up with a wide, flattened tongue. His eyes flicker down, taking in the wet mess he’s already made before he dips the tip in, stuffs as much of the muscle as he can into the tight hole with a hungry groan.

It’s a different kind of intimacy, watching them like this, and it fills your face with warmth and drips down your spine. Has your hand traveling absentmindedly between your legs to satiate the ache that’s returned there. The way Bakugou’s head falls back on the mattress, the way Kiri looks up at him with eyes that are both soft and yet sharply calculating — it’s different. You’ve never seen them like this, the way they were together far before you were ever in the mix, at least not at this level of vulnerability. And maybe it should make you feel jealous, or unsure of your place, but, truthfully, all you feel is a burning, unmitigated need.

You almost forget that you’re even there — physically there — until a big hand is cupping one of your tits, an arm hooking behind your back and pulling you close again. Propped up now on his elbow, Bakugou twists his body to peck at the side of your breast and squeeze the other in his palm. He laves his tongue over it, scrapes his teeth along it with a pant before sucking a bruise into the skin. His face is hot where it buries into you, his breath even hotter where it huffs out against the new, wet bloom of red. He looks up at you through heavy lids, brows pinching as Kiri licks sloppily at his fingers and pushes two in.

“Just gonna watch, y’little perv?”

You raise your brows at him, swipe your tongue over your lips. “Maybe– unless you’d like me to do something else.”

He nods down, towards where his cock sits oozing fresh precum onto his abdomen. “Come sit on it.”

You want to, your body’s aching for it, walls clenching at the thought of it stretching you out. You can imagine distinctly how it fills you, how it hits certain spots so perfectly. The memories alone making your stomach tight with need. But you narrow your eyes anyways and say, “that’s a funny way to ask.”

He smiles sleepily, and his eyes rove down your body — and Bakugou realizes, that he’s the weak one. Weak from the weed, weak from the way Kiri works him open, weak from the sight of your cunt wrapping so pretty around your fingers. But, somehow, in this moment, he’s comfortable in that weakness.

So he sucks at his teeth, closes his eyes for a moment before looking back up to you.

“I need you. Fuck– need’a feel your pussy on me.”

The please sits heavy in his eyes. He doesn’t say it, but you hear it nonetheless.

You press forward, slot your mouth with his and let him wrap his arms around you to pull you onto him. Swinging your leg over his body, you come to rest atop him, hovering your hips over his just so until he’s growling in frustration and pulling you closer. Closer, he wants you closer – wants you both so much fuckin’ closer. So he hugs you against his sweat-dampened chest with strong arms, opens his knees wider and thrusts up to rub himself against you.

The hot length of him sliding through your folds makes you gasp, and your body reacts on its own to grind back down on it. That’s all it takes to get it slippery, your pussy so wet already, leaking slick onto his skin and making it shine.

With three fingers now stuffed knuckle-deep in Bakugou’s hole, Kirishima is getting impatient. His cock is so hard again that it hurts, throbbing in anticipation of feeling that elastic tightness currently gripping around his fingers. And now he’s watching you roll your hips back, seeing the evidence of how wet you are right there on the underside of Bakugou’s cock every time you roll them forward again. He’s squeezing his own cock at the sight, pushing his briefs down to free it so he can spit down on it.

You keep working yourself up, teasing yourself with slow grinds, letting the ridges of Bakugou’s hard cock stimulate your sensitive clit. His lips ghost against your jaw, teeth nipping lightly. “You want it?” He asks, breathy, just as worked up as you are. “Want my dick inside you?”

“Yes,” you feel him pant against your cheek, his cock pulse against your sex, “I want it so bad.”

“You want it so bad, put it inside you, then.”

Eagerly, you reach back behind you, wrap your fingers around his throbbing cock and swipe it through your folds once, twice, before slotting the tip at your entrance. Then, finally, you sink down.

There’s a resounding curse as your pussy starts to swallow Bakugou’s cock.

From you, as you’re slowly filled to the brim with heat, his cock rigid and heavy as it makes room for itself inside you, the ache in your core finally soothed by the heady feeling of being completely full.

From Bakugou, as your walls start to envelop him, quivering and squeezing around him, so snug and warm and wet that he can feel your arousal coating him and rolling down his balls.

And from Kirishima, as he watches it all happen, sees the way you open up so eagerly for cock, the way your cunt gushes around it, the intrusion pushing your juices right out. The way it splits open and sucks in inch after inch after inch, until his cock has disappeared completely inside of you.

Once you’re sitting all the way down, ass meeting skin, your clit resting against blonde curls, Kiri decides he can’t wait any longer.

You’re tipped forward as Bakugou’s legs are pushed open and back, and then you feel his breath hitch beneath you when Kiri’s dick begins to sink into him.

“Oh— fuck—!” His jaw goes slack, eyes wide and brow furrowed, as he’s stuffed completely and utterly full of Kiri’s cock. It’s huge, a fact you know well, so you coo your encouragement into his skin, kiss down his jaw and the side of his neck with each reassuring whisper.

“Ohh god, that’s so good,” Kiri sighs, eyes trained down to where his dick is being swallowed up, girth squeezed so tight it’s almost painful, “Takin’ me so, so well. Shit, so tight—“

The little, pink ring sucks him in deeper, stretching impossibly far around his thick cock. Kiri spits down on it, spreads it over his free length with his hand then pushes the fluid in with a shallow thrust. He does it again, slowly, answering each one of Bakugou’s choked groans with sweet, albeit equally choked words of praise.

And you sit there, patiently, tasting Bakugou’s skin and scratching lightly at his scalp with his cock nestled inside you.

The sensations are overwhelming — the impossible fullness in his ass, the delicious sting of Kiri working his cock in deeper and deeper. And the snug fit of your pussy around him, damp walls clenching every so often, like a warm, wet hug for his aching cock. His dick is jumping and tensing inside you, no doubt coating your insides with more and more sticky arousal with each careful push of Kiri’s hips.

And then Kirishima is finally buried to the hilt, balls meeting the tight muscle of his ass, and the long, low groan Bakugou lets out seems to vibrate right up your spine.

Kiri pulls out, the tight ring squeezing like a vice the whole way, and then slams back in.

“Fuck!” Bakugou’s face is pinched and flushed, sweat beading on his forehead when he pleads with you in a strained voice. “Need you to move. N-need you to ride me…” And this time he says it out loud, a hoarse and needy “Please.”

So you move for him, push your hips back on him so his cock is sliding slowly in and out of your pussy. It glides easily, so slippery with the mix of your juices and all the precum he was leaking right into you. You roll your hips steadily back and forth, back and forth, pulling pretty moans from Bakugou’s lips with each careful movement.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you down and hugging you close, and then a new set of hands is gripping your ass. Kiri pulls you open, squeezing hard as he watches the dick slide in and out of your wet pussy, watches your silky skin hug and drag every time you roll your hips up.

He has the most perfect view of you creaming around Bakugou’s cock, making a mess of white that coats it and collects right around the base. It makes his mouth water — so he spits down on your ass, watches the glob drip onto your hole and down over the dick you’re impaled on. It mixes with the fluids there, makes it even wetter, messier.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Look at you…” He murmurs, awe-struck, snapping his hips harder into Bakugou as his big hands push and pull on you, guiding you back and forth on another man’s dick. “Ride that dick, baby. So pretty… God damn, these holes are so pretty.”

“Y’like what you see, Red?” Comes your voice, sickeningly sweet as you smile over your shoulder at him.

“Mmm yeah, look so pretty stuffed with cock.” A smile of his own playing on his lips when he adds, “Both of you do.”

You send your hips back again, slowly, teasingly, and Kiri’s gaze drops back down to watch your pussy swallow Bakugou’s length. And right underneath that is Bakugou’s ass swallowing his length, over and over with each buck of his hips. Both holes so greedy, so wet and tight and eager for cock — the sight alone is overwhelming, downright pornographic, and Kiri feels his stomach tighten up with the tell-tale sign of his release—

So he pulls out, clenches his jaw and grips the base of his dick to stop himself from cumming so soon. “Shit, I almost…” He laughs, light and breathy, as he cards his other hand through his hair. “Just need a second.”

Fingers gripping your chin pull your attention back, Bakugou catching your mouth in a needy kiss before grinning up at you. The mist in his eyes has parted, nothing but fire outlining the deep, dilated black of his pupils.

His voice is quiet, but rough when he tells you, “‘m gonna fuck you now.”

You don’t have time to respond before you’re being flipped over. (Not that a response is needed. It wasn’t a question.)

You’re on your back once more, your legs being pushed open by hands cupped under your knees, Bakugou mounting you with a tongue swiping hungrily over his teeth. He slides his dick back inside you in one foul swoop, the head of his cock hitting your walls hard and knocking a shrill cry from your throat.

He’s so pent up from having you grind on him slowly, being a puddle underneath you despite aching with the animalistic need to pound you, that he just can’t hold back. He’s ruthless, needing to fuck you hard and fast and mean – and your pussy responds so beautifully, syrupy juices gushing out around his dick, practically spraying all over him with the force of his thrusts.

“God, this pussy’s so fuckin wet. So fuckin’ sloppy. All for me, yeah?”

Your staccato moans are the only answer you give – besides the loud squelch of your cunt when he buries himself to the hilt.

“Say it,” he spits, squeezing your face in his hands to force you to focus on him, “say it’s all for me.”

So you do — you chant it like a holy truth, with your eyes on him and your legs shaking. “All for you, it’s all for you!”

You’re rewarded with a more violent snap of his hips, pulling all the way out and slamming back in. “That’s. fucking. right.” He’s growling down at you, crazed, punctuating each word with a wet slap of skin.

“You like bein’ a little slut for us don’tcha, princess?” He drills you into the mattress, pinning both of your legs back, bending you painfully so he can fuck into you deeper. “Like bein’ my little cocksleeve?”

All you can do is squeal, mind going blank as he bullies into you — so he answers for you, he knows the answer anyways. “Fuck yeah, you do.” Another hard thrust, and you’re sliding further up the bed. His hands hot, possessive when he drags you back. “Nasty little bitch — god, this pussy feels so fuckin’ good—“

But then he’s falling forward, being pushed forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of your head. He shoots a glare behind him, spits a “what the fuck” back at Kirishima, who has a hand braced on the blonde’s shoulder and his eyes cast down.

Kiri grabs hold of the smaller man’s hip, squeezing as he pushes into him, in turn pressing Bakugou further into you. A collective hiss echoes through the room.

Kiri is sheathed back inside him and, like a switch being flipped, Bakugou goes silent. His breaths are ragged, his eyes glazed. His hips still.

Kirishima pulls out, then fucks back into him just once, making Bakugou’s cock reach even deeper inside of you with the force of his thrust.

“Don’t stop.” A firm command, punctuated by soft kisses to Bakugou’s back. “Keep fucking her.”

Bakugou grits his teeth, breathing a curse out between them, then sets his jaw hard with determination and rocks his hips again. And Kiri stays still, lets him fuck himself back on his cock.

The blonde pulls out and slams back in, over and over, harder and harder, resuming his brutal pace. He’s fucking into you feverishly, spearing himself on Kiri’s dick as he spears you with his, seesawing back and forth between the two.

“Ohhh fuck… there you go, good boy.” A big hand appears, wrapping loosely around Bakugou’s throat, fingers gripping right under his jaw to tilt his head up and make his back arch. Not choking but possessing, commanding. Dominating. The blonde pants, eyes rolling back, hips moving faster as he succumbs to the will of the man deep in his ass — and he looks positively blissful doing it.

Kirishima leans in and presses a cheek to his temple, eyes dark and piercing as he grips his jaw tighter. “Keep going just like that. Make her cum for us.”

Then he turns his gaze down to you. “Be a good girl and play with your pussy while he fucks you.”

You’re quick to obey, fingers finding your clit to rub fast, harsh circles into it. You were already close, dangling right on the edge from Bakugou’s rough treatment. And now the way your boyfriend is looking at you, looming over you both in a way that’s so different than you’ve ever seen him — you’re practically boiling over with desire.

Bakugou keeps fucking you, hard and deep, caught in between the heat of your cunt and the stretch of Kiri’s dick, and the sounds he’s making are downright sinful. Grunts and whines and broken curses that meld together in his mouth, sometimes spilling right over your lips, sometimes being swallowed by Kiri as his face is turned back by a hand on his jaw. He’s taken Kirishima’s cock before, and he’s given you his, but both at the same time has his eyes rolling so far up into his head that he can’t see straight.

He looks totally wrecked, completely fucked out, glassy-eyed and flushed and panting like a dog — it’s egging you on, making you rub your engorged nub faster as you feel pleasure winding tightly in your core.

And Kiri sees it on your face, so he brings his lips closer to Bakugou’s ear. His voice like cocoa, dripping dark and sweet.

“Want you to tell me when you feel her cumming, Katsuki. Tell me when you feel her gush on your dick.”

And something about that – being talked about like you’re not there, like you’re just a toy being shared, or a precious little pet being played with – makes the tether in you suddenly snap.

You do gush, hard, shrill chants of “ohmygod, ohmygod” and “yes, yes, yes” joining the chorus of wet sounds as you cum on Bakugou’s dick. His eyes go wide in realization before they’re rolling back, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He groans long and low at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, leaking more and more slick that he fucks right out of you with each stroke.

“Ohhh fuck— I feel it—! She’s so, f-fucking tight. So wet.”

Kirishima smiles, big and wicked, then reaches out to grab hold of your hips before plowing forward.

He pounds hard and fast into Bakugou, big hands wrapped around your hips for leverage, trapping him between you. Each thrust is an explosive chain reaction — Kiri fucking into Bakugou, forcing Bakugou to fuck into you. You’re caged underneath the blonde, his forearms on the bed and his chest pressed to yours, his eyes squeezed shut as Kiri gives him every thick, rigid inch like a man possessed.

It’s merciless, the way Kirishima is manhandling you both, the mattress squeaking and the headboard thudding against the wall. And it’s hot, all of you damp with sweat, two hulking forms crowded over you and making you feel like a small animal caught in a trap.

Your head digs back into the cushion, back arching off the bed, fingers scratching mindlessly at the sheets as you’re fucked into oblivion. You’re given no chance to come down from your high, everything so swollen and sensitive as your orgasm is prolonged past the point of sanity.

Bakugou is so deep inside you, reaching so far up into your cunt that you swear you can feel him in your throat. Every pull has him dragging deliciously against your walls, and every push has him carving out the space again, his tip hammering right into your sweet spot like a pleasurable punch to the gut. You scream, babble incoherently about how deep he is, how it’s too much, how you can’t take it.

And Bakugou echoes you, voice hoarse and face pinched.

“Fuck— W-wait— if you keep— I’m g-gonna—“

Kiri shushes him, kisses his shoulder, coos so sweetly as he continues his relentless assault on both of your holes. “Take it a little longer, baby. Doin’ so good, so fuckin’ good for me.”

“Fuck , Ei—!“

“Go ahead.” Sweat rolls down his temple, red hair sticking to his forehead. He cranes his neck down, watches Bakugou’s ass swallow him up with a groan. “Cum for us. Do it inside her. Let it all out in that pussy.”

You’re practically brainless at this point, wet and warm and perfectly pliant underneath them, but Kiri’s filthy command brings you back down to earth. You hook your arms around Bakugou’s shoulders, as if he can be anymore trapped, and plead breathlessly for his cum.

“Please! Give it to me, please—!”

His eyes open, fiery red reappearing from behind his lids as he takes in the desperate, fucked out look on your face. He feels his balls tighten, stomach tingling — aching to give you exactly what you want. “Fuck, you want it? Want this load in your cunt?”

You nod furiously, open your legs up wider, wanting him deeper. “Fill me up, Kats. I want it— want it so fucking bad.”

A loud curse and another hard thrust, and his own hips start matching Kiri’s rhythm, chasing the slippery drag of your walls. You’re so tight around him, almost like your body knows what’s coming and is trying to milk it right out of him.

“God damn— I’m gonna cum, gonna dump it all so deep inside you.” He burrows his face in your neck, his voice shaky and vibrating against your skin. “Fuck, take it— take all my fuckin’ cum—!”

Burying himself to the hilt, he gives it to you, shoots it all out against your walls, his dick pulsing so hard with each thick rope that you can feel it. It’s warm, flooding your insides with heat that spills out around his cock and trickles down your ass in hot, gooey trails.

And Kirishima feels it too, his cock caught in a vice-like grip as the muscles around it contract. He can barely move, sucked in by Bakugou’s orgasm, but each twitch and squeeze feels so unbelievably good — he throws his head back and lets the pleasure wash over him, pumping his cum right into that tight, needy hole. And then he pulls out, fists his cock wildly and shoots the rest of it out onto Bakugou’s ass.

The redhead is panting as he strokes the last bit of cum from his tip, grabbing a handful of the blonde’s taut cheek to pull him open and watch the mess of white dribble from his loosened hole. There’s so much of it, oozing out in thick globs over his balls, dripping down to mix with the cum slipping out of you and coating his dick. “Such a mess…” he chuckles under his breath as he shifts out of the way enough for Bakugou to roll off of you.

But then a rough hand is tangling in his hair, pulling the redhead down towards your used up pussy as warm cum continues to seep out of it. Bakugou’s face comes right up to his, nose to cheek, with a nasty grin splitting his lips open.

“Then clean it up.”

Kirishima’s face is pushed down between your legs, and you gasp at the sudden contact of his mouth. His tongue is downright greedy as it laps the bittersweet cum from your folds, and you’re so sore and sensitive that you immediately whine and try to scoot away.

Two muscular arms hook tightly around your thighs, Kiri pulling you back in and looking up at you with big, pleading eyes. “Stay still, baby, please,” his tongue darts out again, groaning low at the taste, “gonna clean you right up, ok?”

“S-so sensitive—!”

“I know, baby girl, I know. Just let me…” But he can’t finish his thought, lashes fluttering as he continues licking up the cum from your entrance. The mix of you and Bakugou swirls around on his tastebuds, makes him dizzy with desire. He extends his tongue, drags it all the way up from your ass, letting it dip into your slit and collect more of the mixture for him to hungrily swallow.

It’s filthy, watching your boyfriend eat another man’s cum out of you like he’s starving for it — and you’re already so sensitive, your clit engorged and your folds swollen from friction. A thick finger pushes inside you, sinking knuckle deep to scoop more cum out of you, and your back arches high off the bed.

“Ohhhh— ohmygod fuck!”

Bakugou is right behind Kiri, watching with low eyes and a snarling smile. He pushes the bigger man’s face harder into you, laughs meanly when you gasp.

“What was that shit you told me?” He rasps, craning his neck down to talk in Kirishima’s ear. “Tell me when you feel her gush.”

It’s like a game between them, and you’ve somehow become the ball.

There’s an excited glint in Kiri’s eyes when he opens them again to stare up at you, plunging another finger into you and curling them hard as he latches his lips onto your clit. You writhe in the sheets, bucking and squirming as you’re overstimulated. But Kiri keeps you firmly in place, holding you down like it’s nothing with a thick arm barred over your hips, and quickly brings you back to the edge.

But this time is different, your insides so swollen from the beating they’d gotten, so sensitive from your last mind-numbing orgasm, so responsive to the beckoning curl of his big fingers… You feel it, the intense build of pressure, and your eyes go wide, pleas to wait and hold on tumbling from your lips as your body curls in on itself. But Kiri just keeps going, grunts his encouragement onto your clit as he sucks and licks it, flexes his forearm as he fucks you even harder on his fingers — and you fall right apart with a scream and a rush of fluids.

“Ohh shit!” Bakugou laughs as Kiri pulls his face away.

The redhead braces a hand on your abdomen and pushes down to keep you still, then hooks his fingers into you, moving his arm hard to attack that spongy spot and fuck more squirt out of you. It sprays violently out of your cunt as you scream, showering them both in your essence, so much that it drips down their bare chests and soaks the sheets.

Bakugou slaps at your clit as you come down, laughs again when you buck up involuntarily. “Now that’s a fuckin’ mess.”

They’re both glistening, Kiri’s face dripping, droplets of your cum snaking down their stomachs. It’s nasty, everything muggy and wet and covered in somebody’s cum.

And you all look downright blissful about it, panting heavy and smiling like cats that got all of the cream.

Bakugou reaches out, kisses Kirishima hard and licks the taste of you off his mouth. Then he’s pulling you up and pressing his lips to yours, passing the sweetness on to you.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.”

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beefybkg

2 years ago

I love this so much!!!!

i'm a sucker for angst to fluff. what if parker's friends say some mean things ab your body but parker doesn't defend you. that night, you won't cuddle him, you won't even sleep in the same bed because you don't wanna disgust him... and peter has to make it up to you.

parker is a dunce!!! peter supremacy!

Peter had two sets of friend groups.

The first one was the original one. Kids he grew up with, suffered through high school and flew into the freedom of college with him. The group you knew the most of, they were the closest to him and nearly the entire group became your friends too. Weekends spent smashing drinks and staying up too late before hitting up a diner for greasy burgers at four in the morning.

Then the second group, which you did not know well, don’t know how Peter knows them and can’t fathom why Peter would entertain them.

It’s split like this.

With friend group A, he’s Peter.

With friend group B, he’s Parker.

You don’t like Parker; not one bit.

Parker can be stark, blunt, bold and cocky.

It was the friend group, they made him believe he was one of them so sometimes he acted a little too much like them. It wasn’t ever too bad, just the stuff you know he normally wouldn’t feed into, he gorged.

His friend, leader of the group, Nick, said it in passing. It’s not the first time you met, granted you try to spend as little time as possible with them but you also won’t give them the cold shoulder. The mutual understanding with friend group B is that you both are there for Peter’s sake, it just makes things easier.

Nick threw his beer back, foam swirled to the top. His long arm extended to the seat next to him, his watch clicked against the chair top.

“I’m surprised you didn’t bag someone with a better body, Parker.” A sharp wink is thrown at your boyfriend, and in response he snorted, “yeah, right.”

It was sarcastic, you’ll give him that. But he didn’t give more, you waited for the ‘real funny, but don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.’ However, he just rubbed your shoulder and sent a small smile, almost like he was saying, ‘you know how it is.’

You didn’t miss the tiny curl of Nick’s lip when you shook Peter’s hand off your arm.

If he couldn’t stand up to his friends over a shit comment then why would you let him put his hands on your body, knowing everyone thinks he could do better?

—------------------------------

Peter frowned when you pulled away from his grasp, he was going for a hug but you floated away. You were quiet on the ride back, not starting conversation but not letting it fail either.

If Peter could describe your emotion right now it would be ‘fine.’

“C’mon, gimme a hug.”

You cross your arms, “you sure you want your hands on me?”

Peter reaches out and tries to pull one hand back with the other but his right hand breaks free and grabs you, “I can’t control them! They need you too much.”

Sometimes it’s really, really hard to be upset with him.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you pull away, forcing yourself to stand up for yourself, if the situation was reversed you’d shut it down at the dinner table. Not smile sympathetically and give him an ‘oh well!’

“Want company?”

Disappointment covers your features, “not really.”

He wouldn’t stand up to defend the body he loves but he wants to be first in line to use it.

“Oh. Okay, if you want I’ll make us some ice cream cones and set up a movie?”

You shrug, “sure.”

Peter knows what’s wrong but he views it as a boundary issue between his friends and him, not you. He knows what he needs to do but doesn’t want to involve you further.

That message doubles down when you told him you would sleep on his couch tonight, he woke you up after the movie to take you to bed when you shrugged him off, “I’ll sleep here tonight,” that never happens, ever.

“No, c’mon, I’ll carry you.”

His hands slipped under your thigh when you rolled over, “if it wasn’t so late I’d be at home. Consider yourself lucky that I’m still here.”

So, Peter presses a kiss to your temple with an “alright, honey. Goodnight, we can talk in the morning, okay?”

When he walks away you mumble under your breath, “hope you dream about girls with better bodies.” He hears you, it takes everything in him to not bring you with him.

—----------------------------------

Noise woke you up.

The room was bright, sleeping in the living room left you exposed to nearly every window in the apartment. Peter’s room was dark and cool, if you were in there it could be well into mid morning before you rose.

There was a blanket on you that wasn’t there last night, it’s one from Peter’s room, he keeps an extra by his bed for you. The sun peering in warmed up the room and you started to feel just a little too warm.

You almost forgot why you were awake until you heard a cabinet shut loudly and a soft curse murmured from the kitchen. Peter was up early making breakfast, you know he feels largely guilty. It almost makes everything okay.

It took heat swarming your face for you to pull the blanket away, the cool breeze from his ceiling fan felt really good. You yawn, then cough from a dry throat.

“Baby?”

You sniff, nothing more than a harsh breath, “morning.” Your voice croaks from the couch, you hear shuffling, steps get louder until you looked up at his face peering over you.

“I slept like shit, how about you?”

You stretch your arms over your head, “no complaints.”

Peter recognizes you’re still mad.

“Waffles or pancakes?”

You grin, “french toast.”

Peter leans over the back of the couch, his lips puckered. “Deal,” you push his chin away. “No kisses, you’re on time out.”

He wanted to wait until after breakfast but he really can’t last that long without a kiss.

“Okay, come here.”

You got up and followed him, he grabbed his phone sitting on the counter and gestured to taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Peter unlocked his phone and tapped around, he handed it towards you, you looked at him confused before he wiggled it. “Take it, read it.”

Taking his phone you looked down, it was blurry and you had to blink a few times. Peter busy with moving around the kitchen.

A text thread between him and Nick.

“hey man, I know you didn’t mean anything by it but you hurt some feelings by that comment tonight. From here on out no jokes on or about her, cool?”

“Ah shit man, my bad. I didn’t mean to get you yelled at, no jokes about the lady in front of her from now on.”

“I mean don’t joke about her, ever. It’s not cool to me, and it disrespects my girlfriend.”

“Say less, I’ll tell the guys, no more jokes about parker’s girl.”

“Appreciate it, man.”

A small pout takes over your face, he texted it last night after you got home. If you can track it back it would’ve been around the time you were in the shower, unprompted he stuck up for you.

Peter stood up for you, he had your back.

You assumed he didn’t, but he just didn’t make a scene. He kept cool and calm until he was back at home, in regards to not embarrassing you or his friends and maybe damaging either relationship.

You click your tongue, your boyfriend meets your eyes, he’s awaiting a response.

“Well, now it’s hard to be mad.”

“I will always defend your honor, sweetheart. Just because I don’t do it at that moment doesn’t mean I wont, okay? I love you and you are absolutely the hottest woman I could ever bag, alright?”

You respond with countless kisses and cuddles, Peter needs to nearly peel you off his body so he can use the stove safely, but not one complaint utters from his lips.

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beefybkg

2 years ago

the sexual tension between me & the alternate reality I daydream about

84K notes View Post

beefybkg

2 years ago

happy birthday to the god explosion murder dyamight

1K notes View Post

beefybkg

2 years ago

He is so sweet and manly it hurts!

kirishima manhandles you so easily without trying. just moves you out of the way with his hands on your hips, picks you up and places you on ledges, sweeps your legs out from under you to carry you bridal style, drags you to the edge of the bed by your thighs, gets you from sitting on his face to lying on your back in a motion so quick and fluid it has your head spinning. and i don’t think he really knows he’s doing it, it’s not like he even has to think about it, it’s natural for him to throw you around like a ragdoll with how strong he is — one day you tell him you love the way he manhandles you and he’s like “i… manhandle you???”

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beefybkg

2 years ago

kirishima x bakugou x f!reader

summary - you're a shy transfer student who's paired with kirishima for a project, by chance, you meet his boyfriend. porn with not a lot of plot.

a/n - smut, threesome, bakugou and kirishima are both bi and so is reader, college au, quirkless au, praise, degradation, shy reader, sorry for slandering shinsou, unprotected sex, face fucking, impact play, cumplay ig im, i forgot that this was mostly filth when i went to re edit it. repost from my old blog, katsupeach. kirishima and bakugou's heights are described but they're bigger than you, daddy kink, some mild hurt comfort, they like you more than a one night stand isn't that nice.

MINORS DNI - You must have an age visible on your page somewhere to interact with this post.

Being paired with the sunny extroverted football player for your essay project wasn’t your worst nightmare, but only because your subconscious was rarely so creatively cruel. You traced the assignment with your finger, checking again to make sure that it was right. F/N L/N, Kirishima Eijirou. Fuck. You look up, and to your embarrassment, he’s looking over at you, and you make eye contact. He shoots you a bright smile that you attempt to return. Professor Aizawa continues talking about the project, but you’re not listening, you’re too busy wiping your clammy hands on your jeans. You dart out of the classroom, through the hallways, and onto the quad but of course, he catches you.

“Hey, hey y/n!” Shit. You turn around and there he is, towering over you.

“Hi.” You say.

“Do you wanna exchange numbers? Talk about the project?” He grins at you. “You’re a transfer, right?

“Yeah,” you say quickly. “Don’t worry about the project, I’ll just do it. I don’t mind.” He blinks at you.

“No, uh, no way,” He sheepishly touches the back of his neck. “I can’t letcha do that, I promise I won’t hold you back.” You swallow nervously.

“It’s really fine.” You respond, barely audible. He shakes his head.

“Come on, I won’t be that bad.” He reaches out to touch your upper arm and you flinch from him. “Sorry, I just,” he withdraws his hand, “Let’s get coffee if you don’t have class? On me.” You tuck your hair behind your ears.

“Oh, um sure.” He leads you to the student union, chattering about the reading, making it so you barely have to fill in the blanks of the conversation. He leans down to you when you get to the barista,

“Whaddya want, I’ll order for you.”

“Just a latte.” You say. He moves around you to order, careful not to touch you.

“She’ll have a latte, and I’ll have a Caramel Frappucino.” He says, smiling gently at you. “Let’s grab a booth, it’ll be quieter.” You let him lead you across the busy student union, holding both of your hot coffees. He’s right, it’s a little quieter in the booth. “Do you have any ideas?”

“Yeah,” You tuck your hair behind your ears. “I was thinking, maybe um something about, the pre-raphaelites, and how their ultra-realism was a revolution that actually went so hard that it transcended realism to become nonrepresentational.” He blinks at you.

“Yeah, uh, okay, let’s do that.” You sigh.

“Just let me do it.”

“No, no,” he says quickly, “I’m a little behind in the reading, that’s all, I’ll catch up and then I’ll understand. Let’s look now, at one of the paintings, and you can explain it to me.” You take a sip of your coffee and flip to a page in your three hundred dollar textbook, complete with glossy colored pictures.

“This is Ophelia, by John Edwin Millais.” He looks at the pale woman lying in the reeds.

“Oh shit, is she dead?” You swallow.

“Yeah, of course, she is, she’s Ophelia.” He looks sheepish. “From Hamlet. She pretty famously dies.” He looks even more sheepish.

“Uh, okay.” He puts his palms up. “Tell you what, I will catch up on the reading. I will. And then we can divide up work, and get started. I will not be the mean jock that makes you do this yourself. I refuse.”

“Frankly that’s more honor than I expected from you.” He laughs, touching the back of his neck.

“Jeez. Sorry that my fellow athletes did ya so dirty. Scouts honor, I won’t leave you high and dry.” He’s oozing sincerity. You don’t trust it.

“Okay.” He raises his eyebrows and then straightens.

“It doesn’t matter if you believe me now. I’m gonna prove it.” He looks down at the textbook. “Okay, she’s dead, keep explaining.”

“So she’s dead, but look at all the flowers around her. Her death is a tragedy, and it’s considered one of the most eloquent descriptions of death in literature.”

“Ooh,” Kirishima takes his phone out. “Let me google it. What’s it from again?” You smile nervously.

“It’s Lady Gertrude’s speech, from Hamlet.” He squints at his screen.

“Wait, what language is this in?” You laugh a little despite yourself.

“English,” you say, “give it here, I’ll demonstrate.” He hands you his phone, it’s cool and heavy in your hands. “No case?”

“I don’t drop things.” He says, a hint of pride in his voice. You laugh, genuinely.

“There, on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds, Clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke,” your voice is low, Kirishima leans in across the table to hear what you’re saying. “When down her weedy trophies and herself, Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide,” He feels a blush creep onto his cheeks, there’s something almost sensual about the music of your words. “Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes, As one incapable of her own distress,” Kirishima’s breath hitches in his throat.

“Oh,” he interrupts you, “Oh I get it.” You nod. “Wait but please don’t stop.” He begs. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Go on.” You give him a small smile.

“Or like a creature native and endued unto that element. But long it could not be

till that her garments, heavy with their drink, pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay, to muddy death.” He sighs with happiness.

“Wow.” He breathes. “Reading Shakespeare doesn’t feel like that.”

“That’s because he wrote plays,” you explain, “And plays, like poetry, were always meant to be experienced as spoken word entertainment rather than read.” He nods vigorously.

“That makes so much sense!” He grins, still leaning rather close to you across the table.

“Oi, shitty hair!” Someone snarls and you jump, gasping in surprise. “And what the fuck is wrong with you?” Bakugou Katsuki, loud, brash, and Quarterback of the football team leans over your table. You shrink from him.

“Bakugou!” Kirishima chastizes. “You can’t snap at people like that. You scared the shit out of her, I just got her to start talking to me.” He shakes his head. “Y/n, I’m sorry, this is my boyfriend.” You blink in surprise. “Yeah, we’re both bi.” He confirms, fielding your expression with expert precision. Bakugou elbows his way next to Kirishima in the booth, dropping his textbooks. “Y/n was just reading me some Shakespeare for context on this.” He points to the Millais, your textbook still lying open.

“That Ophelia?” He asks you and you nod. “So you were reading him Lady Gertrude’s speech.” You blink at him. “Yeah, we’re not all fuckin’ idiots.” He says, hitting Kirishima lightly on the back of the head. “But go ahead, I want to hear it.”

“Oh um,” your face burns. “I was done. I mean it’s a short passage.”

“Something else then,” he grins, “I like to watch him struggle.” Kirishima swats at his boyfriend, who dodges and smiles. You hand him his phone back.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” You say and he narrows his eyes, and scrolls through his phone.

“Shitty hair we’ll give you somethin’ easy, just tell us what this means.”

“Why can’t you read it?” You say a little annoyed and he grins.

“You’ll see.” He selects something on his phone and then hands it to you.

“Oh.” You say, a scowl forming on your lips, seeing Katherine’s monologue. “You want me to read the Shakespearean equivalent of yes sir, I would be happy to make you that sandwich?”

“What?” Kirishima blinks. Bakugou looks like he’s about to speak but you cut him off.

“Kirishima look at me.” He does. “This was the first thing we were supposed to read in this course. Have you done any of the reading for this class?” Kirishima goes bright red, shrinking nervously from Bakugou.

“Shitty hair?” Bakugou growls. “Skippin’ out on the reading, huh?” You raise your eyebrows and start to gather your things. Kirishima buries his face in his hands.

“Wait,” you stop and look at him, you’d already stood to make your escape. “Please help me study, please help me catch up.” He eyes Bakugou. “He’s the meanest tutor, and I feel like you wouldn’t be.” You sigh.

“Kirishima, we’re not even friends.” You reach for your coffee but he looks so hurt that you pause. Bakugou snorts.

“Never thought I’d see the day where it took you more than five minutes to make friends with someone,” he eyes you, “What’s your deal? You’re a transfer, right?” Your hands shake a little as you respond.

“Yep.” It could be your imagination, but for a fraction of a second, Bakugou’s eyes flick to your hands before moving back to your face, softening a little.

“Please.” Kirishima says, taking a step forward. “I’ll do something for you, anything.” You sigh, looking away. “I’ll introduce you to all our friends!” he offers. “You don’t know anyone, right?”

“And I like it that way.” You counter and that gets a genuine laugh out of Bakugou. “I’ll tutor you, though,” you offer, “On one condition.” Kirishima nods, and you sit back down. “I will make every decision about this project.”

“That’s fine!” He says brightly. “Thank you, thank you so much.” Bakugou clears his throat, you’re still holding his phone.

“Actually,” you say, “This is an ok place to start.” You turn the phone to Kirishima on the table who shakes his head.

“Read it to me, please, please it sounds so much better.” You massage your temples, watching Bakugou smirk.

“Fie, fie, unknit that threatening unkind brow, And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.” You say, not sure where to look.

“Ok, so don’t question your boss.” Kirishima says, “Got it.”

“Not quite.” You say. “Very sweet of you to immediately strip the clearly gendered terminology from this passage.” Bakugou knocks shoulders with his boyfriend.

“Try again.” He motions for you to continue.

“It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads, Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds, And in no sense is meet or amiable. A woman mov’d is like a fountain troubled- Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.”

“Oh.” Kirishima says. “This is about, uh, like, when women aren’t sweet they’re ugly?” You nod, smiling.

“Yeah, that’s as decent interpretation. Think about the words, a woman moved is like a fountain troubled, women who have strong emotion or even rational thought that’s being read as emotion due to a sexist lense, has as much value as a fountain that’s broken, spewing mud. Think about that metaphor.” Kirishima’s brow furrows.

“I don’t like this. I love it when women aren’t sweet.” Then he smiles at you. “‘Course, if they wanna be, that’s fine by me.” You hand Bakugou his phone back.

“I’m finished debasing my gender for your entertainment.” You say to the blonde, and scribble something down on a scrap of paper. “I’m free Saturday afternoon, this is my number, text me if you want to be tutored.”

_______

On Friday night, you’re curled up with a mug of hot chocolate and your favorite show, with a soft blanket, happily alone in your single. You get a text from Kirishima.

Kirishima: hey! We’re having a movie night. Wanna come over?

You: I’m good, thanks

Kirishima: come on, what are you doing?

You: watching Jane the Virgin

Kirishima: alone or am I interrupting a netflix and chill session

You: aaaaaaaaa i like being alone it’s fine

You toss your phone aside, ignoring it’s incessant buzzing, watching Jane pick out a wedding dress, tearing up when her father shows up. You have a moment where you genuinely struggle with the desire to respond, grappling with your own social anxiety before choosing the comfort of being alone. There’s a soft knock at the door. You throw a zip up hoodie on over your tank top.

“Hey,” There’s a guy standing in the hallway with dark hair. You don’t recognize him. “I’m Shindou, your next door neighbor.” You shrug.

“Hi, can I help you?” You can smell the alcohol on his breath, he runs his fingers through his hair..

“Can I come in?” He asks, smiling brilliantly. You shake your head.

“No thanks,” you lean against the doorframe. “What’s up?” He takes a step near you.

“You can um,” he says, smiling sheepishly, “I was hoping I could come in.” He’s swaying a little.

“Nope,” you try and close the door but he wedges an elbow into it, catching the door frame in a large hand.

“I would like you to leave.” You say, with as much firmness as you can muster.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart.” He says, smiling, “Come on, don’t be a bitch about this,”

“Don’t be a bitch about what?” A familiar voice growls from down the hallway.

“Just leave.” You say, pleading, trying again to close the door on him but he shoves his way in, stumbling drunk. You jump out of the way but he knocks into you, and you slam against the chest of drawers next to your door, the air rushing from your lungs. Strong hands pull him back though, as you catch yourself before he can hit the ground. You see Bakugou slam him against a wall.

“Walk it the fuck off.” Bakugou snarls, before turning his attention to you. “Text Kirishima back. You’re hurting his feelings.” He says, before registering your face, how shaken you are. “Oh shit, don’t fuckin’ cry.” Your hands shake, hard.

“W-what are you doing in my building?” You ask. He blinks at you.

“I live here.” He points to the black garbage bag he put down to grab Shindo. “That guys an asshole. Stay away from him.” You nod and he sighs, looking away. “Fine.” He pushes his way into your room, and before you can say anything he’s wrapping his arms around you. “Shh, or shut up or somethin’, okay?” You bury your face in his neck, it does feel nice, to be held. He lets you go after about a minute. “Come on. Movie night.”

“I don’t-”

“Did that sound like a fuckin’ invitation to you?” He snarls. “Because I meant it like a goddamn order.” You nod, sniffling a little. He waits for you while you pick up your phone and slip into some shoes.

“Gonna uh,” he says, “Gonna put pants on?” You turn beet red and lift the end of your long hoodie to reveal the shorts you were wearing, he looks almost disappointed. “Come on then, we don’t have all damn night.” You grab your room key and phone and follow him down the hallway to the garbage shoot, and then up to his room. He lived on the fourth floor, and his room had slanted ceilings that were covered with posters. There’s a small crowd gathered on an array of beanbag chairs, and the small dorm room was spotless. Kirishima’s face lights up.

“You came!” He says, getting up and giving you a quick hug.

“Some fuckin’ asshole tried to barge into her room.” Bakugou growls. “Dick.” Kirishima’s eyes widen.

“Who?” He says to Bakugou. Bakugou rolls his eyes.

“Shindo, who the fuck else?” Kirishima’s jaw tightens for a second before turning to the group, snatching a remote and pausing the movie.

“Hey! This is y/n. She’s really nice so try not to scare her off.” They introduce you to their friends, Denki, Mina, and Sero. “She’s a transfer.” They greet you, someone hands you a drink and you settle in an empty bean bag chair. Kirishima sits next to you, his face a little flushed.

“Hey,” He says quietly. “Did you read my texts or did Bakugou just spirit you up here to make me happy?” You blink at him.

“Um I didn’t read them.” you confess. “I just, people make me so nervous.” He nods.

“I can tell.” He looks away. “I was pretty excited to be partnered with you. I uh, I’ve missed everything we were supposed to be learning in class because I keep staring at you.”

“You’re drunk.” You say and he shrugs.

“Catch up.” You hit him lightly on the back of the head,

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” He laughs and slips an arm around you.

“We have an understanding.” He leans over, “And honestly I think he likes you too.” You make a decision and down your drink quickly, then settle into the crook of his arm. He moves you, so that you’re flush against his side. You look around nervously but Sero and Mina are full on making out and ignoring the movie, Denki’s fallen asleep. You feel his breath on your ear and your neck erupts in goosebumps. “Can I get you another drink?” You nod, face burning. You turn your face and meet his eyes, for just a moment. “Hey, Bakugou, can you pass me that?” Kirishima points to the half empty bottle of vodka. You’d almost forgotten the blonde. Bakugou is lying on his bed, but he gets up, grabbing it and a plastic bottle of fruit juice. He sits down slowly on the other side of the beanbag chair with a grunt, taking your red plastic cup from you and dumping the rest of the cranberry juice in it. Kirishima gets on his side, resting his head in one of his palms. You mimic his movements, snuggling into his hard chest. Bakugou rolls his eyes and pours less than one shot into your cup. You pout.

“What? You don’t need more to drink.” He grumbles. You take the cup from him, and sip it.

“This is basically just juice!” You complain and you feel Kirishima groan softly as you push up a little on the beanbag chair to get closer to Bakugou, inadvertently pressing your ass against his crotch. He takes one of your hips in his huge hand, reaching under your hoodie, fingers digging into your soft flesh.

“I said you don’t need any more to drink.” Bakugou snaps. “I’ve got half a goddamn mind to take that from ya,” he eyes the cup, “And just get you both water.” Kirishima’s hand travels up under your hoodie, pushing your tank top up to rest on your waist. You give Bakugou your best, brattiest smile, and tip the cranberry juice drink into your mouth, chugging it and then handing him your empty cup. He smiles evilly and cocks his head to one side. “Brat. You’ll pay for that.” You shrug, feeling Kirishima start to rub circles into your skin, to draw your body closer to his.

“You should be nicer to him.” Kirishima says, as Bakugou climbs onto the beanbag chair, laying down and facing you. He watches your face carefully as Kirishima’s hand moves lower, under the elastic band of your shorts. You can feel his swelling erection rubbing against your ass. “He calls the shots around here, baby.” He parts your folds with two fingers and you feel your face warm as he drags his fingers lazily across your slit. He presses gently, experimentally, on your clit and your mouth drops open, sucking a sharp breath.

Bakugou’s lips crash down on yours, muffling the sweet hiccuping moan that would have escaped your lips as Kirishima starts to circle your clit with one calloused hand. His kiss is hot, searing, and he swipes your lips with his tongue before slipping it between them, keeping you quiet in the darkness as the others watch the movie intently. He guides you carefully, cupping your face in expert hands, while Kirishima locks your body against his with one arm wrapped under your ribs, and tortures you with the other.

“She’s so wet.” He whispers. “When’s the last time anyone touched you, baby?” He coos. Of course you don’t answer, you can’t, as he dips a finger into your aching core, and you bite down hard on Bakugou’s lip. You taste blood and the blonde pulls away from you, something wild in his eyes. You get out half a gasp before his mouth is back on yours, this time he reaches for your body, you hear your hoodie unzip. He reaches under your sweatshirt, palming your breasts, grunting softly. You hold onto his arms, digging little half moons in the contours of his bicep.

“You’re so fuckin’ soft.” He says into your mouth. “Gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” You nod, Anything, anything as long as Kirishima didn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, pressing against that one bundle of nerves in a way that was making your eyes roll and your face hot. You can feel him grinding his hard cock against your ass. Bakugou lifts your tank top over your shirt and pulls your breasts out of your bra. “Nice tits.” He groans, before taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking hungrily.

“She’s gonna cum.” Kirishima warns, and it’s true you can feel that tight coil in your stomach, feel the muscles in your thighs tense, as you near your release. To your dismay, Bakugou chuckles.

“Nah, she doesn’t need it yet.” He moves back up into your eyeline. “In case you’re too stupid to understand that, you’re not allowed to cum yet, got it.” You meet his intense gaze and he rolls his eyes and covers your mouth with his free hand. “I wanna see you fuckin’ cry for it.” You flex your feet, squirming against Kirishima as you reach our and hold onto Bakugou’s muscled forearms. You feel his breath, hot on your ear. “C’mon bitch.” He growls. “I said I wanted to see you cry.” Kirishima drags his thrumb roughly across your clit and you nearly lose it, screwing up your face in concentration.

“Aw,” Kirishima coos. “She wants to be a good girl so bad, Katsuki.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re doing so well, baby.” Bakugou grabs your jaw roughly, holding it so tightly that you’re forced to part your lips, panting like a dog. Your eyes start to water, it hurts, it hurts so badly, you just want to cum, you’ll do anything, you’re desperate for it. Your lower lip trembles as the first tear rolls down your cheek, disappearing into the fabric of the beanbag chair.

“Harder.” Bakugou orders, and you can see him palming his cock with his free hand through his pants. For a second you think he’s talking to you but when Kirishima picks up the pace you realize you were wrong, he watches you tremble. “You look fucking pathetic.” He snarls. “What would you give me, to cum, right now?”

“Anything.” You breathe, eyes watering. “Anything you wanted.” He grins again, that same wildness in his eyes before he spits in your open mouth.

“Swallow.” He commands, still speaking lowly enough so that his friends, apparently incredibly stoned, can’t here. “Then cum for me, bitch.” You release the coil you’d been holding and your whole body spasms as wave after wave of pleasure hits you, Kirishima carefully carries you through your high. You’re vaguely aware, on some level, of how you’re gushing around his fingers, of his little groan,

“Shit, she clenches so hard when she cums.” Kirishima breathes. Bakugou’s mouth is pressed against yours, muffling the desperate moan that comes from deep within you. Your hands shake as you grab fistfuls of his t-shirt and hold on for dear life. When your vision clears you’re on your back between the two men. Kirishima is brushing the hair softly off your forehead, and Bakugou is pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your cheek. “Is your room empty, baby?” Kirishima asks and you nod, unable to speak yet. “Should we go there?” You nod again and try to stand, feeling how sticky your shorts have become, the drying slick on your thighs.

“Wait!” Kirishima says and your knees give out. Bakugou catches you easily, lifting you in his arms and rolling his eyes.

“Don’t try and walk after cumming like that, stupid.” He says, shaking his head. They walk down to your empty dorm room, where when they flick the lights on, your long forgotten mug of hot chocolate is on the window sill, probably ice cold.

“This is so cute!” Kirishima coos. “You know I’ve had a crush on you all semester.” He smoothes out your baby blue comforter. “It’s not exactly how I’ve imagined it, but it’s so you.” Bakugou deposits you on the bed.

“Knew there was a reason you had no fuckin’ clue what was happening in that class.” He looks at you. “When you can talk again he’s gonna need a goddamn tutor, so I hope we didnt fuck anything in there,” he taps your forehead, “up permanently.” Kirishima looks sheepish and Bakugou continues. “But if you’re not talkin’ I can think of much better uses for your mouth.” You nod, and clear your throat with a high pitched grunt.

“You uh,” you look at Kirishima. “You like me?”

“I may or may not have begged the professor to pair us together for this project.” You giggle.

“Oi, sorry,” Bakugou snaps. “I meant suck my fuckin’ dick.” You flush, embarassed, he sits on your chair, unzipping his pants and putting one of your pillows at his feet. “Crawl.” He says pointing lazily at his feet. You slip all the way out of your hoodie before obliging.

“She’s really so good,” Kirishima coos, “I knew that attitude was all an act, right, baby, you just wanna make us feel good, right?” You barely hear him, Bakugou’s taken his dick out of his pants and there’s no other word for it, it’s pretty. Long and thick, the head a deep pink and dripping with precum.

“Yeah.” You say softly, before taking the tip of him in your mouth, giving it a little kitten lick to clean the precum off of it before taking as much of it as you can, drooling sloppily on his lap. He groans.

“Fuck, yeah princess, just like that,” He catches your eyes, “Love the way your lips look on my fat fuckin’ cock, look up at me, like that.” He looks up, putting one hand on the back of your head, setting a pace for you, forcing you just a little farther with each thrust. “What are you waiting for, shitty hair?” He growls. “Just gonna watch?” Kirishima runs his fingers through his hair and glances at Bakugou’s hands, tangled in your hair, “Awww,” Bakugou makes the sweetest sound his gravel allows, “You were waiting for permission, like a good boy.” Kirishima nods.

“Y-yes, sir.” He says.

“Take her shorts off.” Bakugou orders, leaning back in your fold up chair, the canvas groaning.” You lovinging flick your tongue over the underside of his cock. He pulls you back off of him though and speaks, “Green means go, yellow means slow down, red means stop. If you tap me,” He says, tapping his own thigh, in case you were too stupid to understand that, “I will stop. Understand?” You nod. “Say it.” He says gruffly.

“I understand.” You say, and he reaches down, parting your soft lips with his thumb. You suck it hungrily and he smiles when you scrape your teeth against the pad of his finger.

“Get back to work.” He orders, and you do, taking as much of him as you can, concentrating on keeping your throat relaxed, swelling with pride at every little groan you elicit from his mouth. Kirishima kneels behind you, letting out a soft whine as he rubs the head of his cock against your slit.

“She’s so wet,” Kirishima moans, ‘Can, can I please fuck her, please?” Bakugou takes his eyes off yours for a moment, not releasing the back of your head.

“Have you been a good fuckin’ boy?” He asks huskily. Kirishima nods emphatically. “Hmmm,” Bakugou rumbles, closing his eyes in pleasure as you drool on his cock. “What do you think,” he grabs you by the hair and pulls you off his dick, “Want him to fuck you?” You turn around and look at him, and gasp a little. He’s so big, the biggest you’ve ever seen, wide and long, at least 8 inches, purple tipped and dripping with precum. He’s pumping himself slowly. You turn back to Bakugou.

“I-Is it gonna hurt, daddy?” You ask, the title slipping from your lips like water. Bakugou’s dick twitches in front of your face.

“He can go slow, for you,” Bakugou growls, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Make sure she’s prepped dumbass.” He nods at Kirishima, and you move to keep sucking Bakugou’s cock but he catches your face. “I wanna watch you take it.” He says gruffly, savoring the way your eyes widen at the pressure, and then the stretch, and then the pain, as Kirishima gently eases inside of you. He waits to move until he hears your sharp little gasp, your mouth dropping open and saliva dribbling down your chin. Bakugou grins, taking the chance to force himself back in your mouth, focusing on his own orgasm now, grabbing a fistful of your hair and setting his own pace. This time it’s impossible to relax, if you could concentrate on anything it would be the pleasant pain of Kirishima rutting his huge cock against your soft walls, but Bakugou forces your head all the way up his length, so that your nose is pressed to the blonde tuft of hair at his stomach.

“Fuck,” Kirishima says harshly, “She got even tighter when you did that,” he picks up the pace a little and you see stars. Bakugou starts fucking your throat in earnest now, groaning, fingers tearing through your hair.

“Take it, bitch,” He growls, when he sees your eyes start to water as you gag, “Fuck yeah, baby just like that, you like this?” He looks at Kirishima, blushy and glossy eyed as he snaps his hips against your ass. “You like gettin’ fuckin’ spitroasted like some dirty fuckin’ whore, huh?” There’s no way for you to respond, not with your jaw aching, not as his thrusts become erratic and he slams himself all the way down your throat again. You feel him start to explode in your throat, but then he pulls out, coating your face in his cum and leaning back in your chair. “Good girl,” he breathes while you gag and sputter, “Good fuckin’ girl.” He sighs heavily. “You look so good like this, daddy’s desperate little slut, arentcha?”

“Y-yes daddy.” You say with the first lungful of sweet air you’re able to get. “Oh god,” you choke out as Kirishima starts going even faster, hitting your g-spot with every thrust, hitting every spot, even now, it hurt a little, he was so, so big. Bakugou leans forward and pushes down on your shoulders so that you’re down on your elbows, forcing your back into a harsher arch. With nothing to muffle your sounds they spill from your lips like water, “K-kirishima,” you moan, and he laughs, slapping your ass lightly.

“So what, he’s daddy and I’m Kirishima?”

“Sounds right to me.” Bakugou says threateningly, from your chair, reaching out to brush the hair out of your face, surprisingly gently. “Do you want to cum again, bitch?” He asks and you nod vigourously. “Use your words.” He snaps.

“Yes, daddy, wanna cum please.” You look up at him, eyes wide.

“Do you deserve to cum?” He asks and you nod without thinking.

“Please, please let me, I’ll, I’ll do whatever you want I-” The words come out of your mouth so quickly that he laughs at you.

“So fuckin’ eager to please,” He taunts, “You wanna be a good girl so badly, don’t you, just wanna be daddy’s good slut?”

“F-fuck.” Kirishima groans, kneading at your ass, grabbing your hips and fucking you butally, your knees give out, “She got so tight when you said that, keep going, please,” he begs,

“You like when I tell you you’re a slut huh?” Bakugou rasps, grinning at your stupid fucked out expression, “You look so good covered in my cum, bitch, such a good little cocksleeve, just a sweet little cunt on legs.” Kirishima reaches down and pinches your clit between two fingers and you keen, “You can cum, cocksleeve.” Bakugou orders and Kirishima rakes his nails down your back as you come undone beneath him with a soft cry, a choked sob.

“I’m close.” Kirishima whines, “Where should I-”

“On her.” Bakugou says. “I wanna see my pretty little bitch covered in our cum.” You look up at that. “That’s right, baby, you’re my fucking bitch now.” Kirishima pulls out, his hot release spurting all over your back as your whole body trembles. Kirishima collapses on the floor next to you but Bakugou reaches into his pocket, grabs his phone and snaps a picture. “You look so good all fucked out.” He says. “Don’t move, dumbasses.” He gets up, fixing his pants and then leaves. You hear your door close and turn your head to Kirishima.

“Hi.” You say very quietly. He smiles at you.

“You okay?” You nod. “We’ll take good care of you.” He coos, “Aftercare is important. He’s right, by the way, you look so fucking good like this.” He takes you in, swollen lips, and glossy eyes, watery black lines on your cheeks from the last remnants of your eye makeup. He reaches over, dipping two fingers into the cum on your back and then pushing them between your lips. You lick them clean and he beams at you. “Such a good girl!” You warm with pride at the praise. You hear the door open and Bakugou comes back. He squats beside you.

“C’mere.” He grunts, carefully, gently wiping your face with a warm washcloth, and when your face is clean he kisses your forehead and hands the towel to Kirishima, who cleans off your back. He cups your face in both of his hands.

“Good girl.” Bakugou says gruffly. “Gonna lie down with us, let us take care of ya a little?” You nod and Bakugou climbs into your twin bed, flattening himself against the wall. Kirishima lifts you, laughing at your humiliating attempt at walking.

“You might have a limp tomorrow.” He says brightly. “But maybe not! Not everyone does.” Bakugou takes your body, angling it against his, and Kirishima lies down, facing the two of you, giving Bakugou a sweet tender kiss before throwing his phone at the lightswitch, effectively engulfing the room in darkness.

“That better not have broken your shit, dumbass.” Bakugou grumbles, as Kirishima slips a leg in between yours. “You got a case for your shit yet?” Kirishima freezes.

“Oh fuck,” he yawns, “Oops. Set an alarm for me?” Bakugou nods. “You okay?” Kirishima asks you again, scrutinizing your face.

“Yeah,” you sigh happily. “Tired.”

“Go to sleep.” Bakugou says. “Both of you. It’s late as fuck.” You close your eyes, focusing on the soft breathing of the two men holding you, feeling safe, and warm and comfortable.

It’s much, much later when you stir. You’re sleeping on top of Bakugou’s chest and Kirishima is spooning you, with his face buried in his boyfriend’s neck. There’s a knocking at your door.

“Hey,” you hear, “Hey, you up, I know you’re in there.” You move a little and Bakugou is awake immediately, anchoring you to his chest with one arm.

“Someone’s here?” You whisper. “I don’t know.” Kirishima gets up and rubs his eyes.

“I’ll check it out.” He opens the door in his boxers. “Oh, hey Shindo?”

“I-is, y/n there?” Kirishima grins.

“Yeah, but it’s 3AM. She’s real tired, if you get my drift.”

“Fuck you.” Shindou spits, slamming the door in Kirishima’s face, he bursts out laughing.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou growls, shifting you to the far side of his chest and reaching an arm out for Kirishma. “Do you know what goddamn time it is?” He pulls the slightly larger boy into him. “She’s gotta tutor you tomorrow.” Kirishima sighs with happiness.

“Then we gotta take her on a real date.” You open your eyes. “Wanna go to olive garden?”

“No.” You and Bakugou say at the same time. “Go the fuck to sleep!”

if u enjoyed this fic please consider reblogging/leaving me a comment! It helps me know what people like so i know what to write more of <3

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beefybkg

2 years ago

You like to call your boyfriend cute when you talk about him to your coworkers, saying things like: “He’s so cute, he cooks for me all the time!” or “My boyfriend just bought me this flower bouquet for our date! Isn’t he the cutest?” and it planted an image into your coworkers mind of your boyfriend being this soft looking guy. So they definitely didn’t expect a tall muscular guy with a face that literally embodies “if looks could kill” to walk into the building claiming to be your boyfriend and that you had asked him to pick you up. But it did help a little when you run into his arms telling how much you miss him and for a moment, they catch his hard face turned soft. Ok maybe he was a little cute.

-Sakusa, Ushijima, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Tsukishima.