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Uraraka stops in the doorway to Bakugou’s dorm room, hand raised to knock on the open door. “Look, I know you’re an ass that likes to insult his friends, but that better not have been for me.”

Bakugo jumps, jerking upright and slamming his laptop shut. He glares at her from his place on his bed, growling, “No. What the fuck do you want, anyway?”


Unaffected by the warm greeting, Uraraka ventures into his room. “Just wanna see what you’re up to.” She raises an eyebrow. “Seems like it’s interesting.”


Continuing to glare, Bakugou remains quiet. He looks down at his laptop, considering. Not a moment later, he looks back up at Uraraka and asks, “So Raka, we’re at a point in this fucking bullshit that we’ve got going on--”

“I’d call it ‘friendship’, but continue.”


“Fucking bullshit. I don’t have friends. But anyway. At this point it’s not fucking weird if I show you a dick, right? Cause I could use a second opinion on this shit.”


“Okay… I’ve seen your dick. We’ve literally fucked. Why would you be interested in my opinion of your dick, right now, when I gave it to you then?”


Bakugou groans. “That’s not what I’m fucking talking about. I- shit. Okay. I’m not asking about my dick.”


With a quizzical turn of her head, Uraraka takes a seat on the edge of the bed. She questions, “Okay? So whose dick are you wanting to show me? And why are you being so weird about it?”


“Well… if you say shit, I will fucking kill you. Got it? So... I don’t actually know whose it is.”


“What? Why do you want to show me some random dick? How did you get it? What is happening?”


“Oh my god, shut the fuck up. Shit. Fuck it. I rate dicks, okay? I fucking run a goddamn blog specifically to rate dicks. There. That’s what I was doing. That’s the random dick I want you to fucking look at to get a second fucking opinion.”


Uraraka can’t hold back the laughter that sprays out of her, while curses from Bakugou compete for volume. Collecting herself, Uraraka says, “Okay. Okay, I’m good. I just- oh my gosh you’re such a ho. I love it. Alright, let me see this blog of yours. I’ll help you rate a random penis.”


Grumbling, Bakugou opens up his laptop and resituates himself on his bed, back against the wall and motions for her to do the same. Once she’s seated beside him, Bakugou turns the laptop screen so that she can view the picture which had been sent in.


“Christ, Baku what the fuck?!”


“I fucking know right?!”


“That’s so gross!”


“I fucking know right?!”


“So he just… came in his hand and thought that would be a good photo to send in?” Uraraka’s face is screwed up in disgust. “Shit’s just disrespectful. That’s how you get your number deleted.”


“Okay good so there’s not some weird fucking girl thing about this?” His query was answered by a good smack upside the head. “Okay okay! Ah shit.” Bakugou glared at Uraraka as his body slowly began to lift off the bed. “Raka, I fucking get it okay? Let me down before I hit the goddamn ceiling.”




“Aaaaand fuck I’m against the ceiling. Great. Fucking happy now? Put me the fuck down, Round Face.”


Uraraka does just that, releasing Bakugou and allowing him to come crashing down. Cursing the ‘fucking bitch’ he has for a best friend (whether he admits to it or not), Bakugou rubs the back of his head as he sits back against the wall again.


“Alright so the final say on this shitfest is--”


“Zero out of ten. Would not recommend.” They both snort at Raka’s comment and Bakugou begins to type: 0/10 Are you fucking kidding me? You just fucking… came in your hand, sent it over and thought that someone would fucking want to see that shit? Fuck you! I hope you haven’t sent that shitty disaster to anyone. You make cocksluts everywhere sad.


“Alright, cool. Now don't-”


“Woah woah wait. Did you just write that it makes cocksluts sad?”




Uraraka smirks. “So how sad are you?”


“Oh shut the fuck up, you stupid fucking know it all. Yes I'm a fucking cockslut, whoopdy fucking doo. This shit makes my dick wilt in sadness which is the precise opposite outcome of what I wanted with making this stupid fucking thing. But at least most of the ones I get are fucking good ones.”


“Wait how many of these things do you get?”


Thinking for a moment, Bakugou responds, “Fucking, I don’t know? Maybe four a day?”


“And you just sit around and rate these? Do you just do all of them at once after classes when you get back to the dorms?”


“Pretty much yeah. I mean, I may have rated a few when we aren’t doing shit in classes. Not like anyone fucking notices.”


“Hmm… you mean you hope no one notices.”


“Oh god don’t even fucking say that. I don’t want to think about any of those bitches knowing how much of a ho I am.”


“Only cause you want to fuck all of them.”


“Oh fucking- FUCK YOU! Do not fucking call me out like this. No. No fucking way. You’re fucking wrong. I do not- fuck you!”


“Who is the Bakuho fucking this time?” Kirishima chose this time to round the corner and into Bakugou’s dorm.


Throwing his head back against the wall with a whine, Bakugou complains, “Really, Shitty Hair? You’re my fucking boyfriend. Aren’t you supposed to be the fucking nice one in this relationship or some shit?”


Kirishima laughs brightly, unperturbed by his boyfriend’s attitude. He walks farther into the room and plants a kiss on Bakugou’s cheek as he runs a hand through his blond hair. He teases, “Aw come on, babe. I’m just playing. Besides, we both know you’re kind of a slut, which is wonderful, by the way. So, who you planning to fuck?”


Humming slightly while leaning into Kiri’s ministrations, Bakugou states, “No one, right now. Just been rating dicks.”


Kirishima blinks. “You’ve been what now?”


Uraraka interjects, “Our resident cockslut has been running a blog to rate pictures of random penises that get sent in. He really likes dick.”


Rather than responding, Bakugou leaves his head lowered to cover the redness in his cheeks (which is only ever due to anger of course, not embarrassment). Kirishima plops himself down on the bed next to Bakugou, nuzzling into his neck. “Hmm too bad you can't sit on them, huh?”


“Oh fuck off. I don't want to sit on every dick I see.”


This statement is met with disbelieving looks from the other two people in the room, challenging the validity of his claim. There's really no need to reply, so Bakugou simply rolls his eyes and goes back to finalizing his post. Kirishima rests his head against Bakugou’s shoulder, watching him scroll through his blog, taking note of the url. The three sit in comfortable silence, with a few comments about pictures they move past.


Abruptly, Bakugou shuts his laptop and turns to Uraraka. “Okay Raka, fuck off I wanna screw my boyfriend.”


“Aw I can't join this time?”


“I'll rephrase: I want to make love to my fucking boyfriend. That shit is exclusively for him. We might be open in terms of sex, but stupid feelings and shit are damn closed off.”


She raises her hands in a placating gesture, “I know I know. Not my fault you can't articulate your emotions. You really can't have him cuddled against you without thinking about sex, can you?”


Kirishima practically purrs against Bakugou’s neck, “To be fair, I've been teasing him all day, before I even got in here. I made some promises. He's getting needy now.”


Laughing, Uraraka stands and makes her way to the door. “Alright boys. Have fun. Be safe. And you should let me help with your blog more often, Baku.”


“Yeah sure whatever. Just fucking leave, Raka.”


“Yeah love you too, bestie,” Uraraka says as she closes the door behind her.


Once the door has shut, Kirishima pulls Bakugou away from the wall and presses his back against the bed as he climbs over him. With a hand loosely tangled in his blond hair, Kirishima presses his lips to Bakugou's, kissing deeply. It's slow, lazy, and loving. As he pulls back to breathe, he presses their foreheads together. He breathes out, “I love you, Katsuki.”


Breath hitching as it does whenever he hears those words from those beautiful lips, Bakugou whispers back, “You too. I love you too, Eijirou. I love you, Ei. Fuck, I do.”



Kirishima cards his fingers through Bakugou’s hair as his head rests on his chest. He smiles at the sleeping face he sees as he looks down, admiring the rare peaceful expression on the normally scowling face. Have to love post-sex cuddles and sleeping. Reaching for his phone on the bedside table, Kirishima starts up a new group chat. He sends out a message: Hey guys! If anyone is interested, and I know you guys are, here’s a link to a wonderful blog my wonderful boyfriend runs. I’m sure he’d like to get laid. I just have one rule: no falling in love with him! ;)


Chapter Text

Finally granted a break from hero lessons, Bakugou finds himself a quiet, secluded corner of the campus library and flops down into a bean bag. Groaning in relief, he takes out his laptop and begins scrolling through some blog submissions; honestly, it’s a decent stress reliever and after the day he’s had of nonstop lectures and sparring, he needs this. God college can be such an ass.


Opening up his inbox, the Bakuho gets to work.


The first submission of the day is a subpar at best. Actually, fuck that. It’s just bad. 3/10 You just sent me a poorly lit log. The fact that you’ve been blessed with a goddamn photogenic cock is your only saving grace here, shitbag. Show me some more fucking respect next time.


The next picture is much better, having paid attention to the lighting and positioning. The dick itself is nothing too spectacular, but the owner certainly shows confidence in how to use it. All in all, worth sitting on. 8/10 you’ve got some good fucking lighting and the hand positioning? Fucking spot on. Yeah it’s little on the smaller end but that fucker is still absolutely worth sitting on. Would definitely suck. Maybe next time put some more damn thought into how you want to angle the camera, asshat.


After posting the review, Bakugou pauses his scrolling to answer a text. Raka. Of course.


Raka: Heyyyyyyyyyy, Bakuho!

Raka: Any new pics? ;) :-*

Baku: No shit. Keep an eye on your snapchat. Maybe I’ll fucking send you something pretty.


Returning his attention to his laptop, he finds the pretty piece worth sending. The beauty is six and a half inches and decently thick,but the real spotlight that gets his attention is a prominent zig zag vein that travels along the bottom of the cock, reaching a tapered end. God. Damn. Quickly opening up snapchat, Bakugou takes a video focusing on the object of his lust. “Look at this, Raka. Fucking look at this shit. That? It needs to be sat on. Now. Shit, I’m a ho.”


Bakugou sets down his phone and turns his eyes back to the picture. 7/10 Well your fucking lighting could use some work you damn amateur, with your overexposed bullshit, but damn that thing is ridiculously photogenic. I'd put it in my mouth. Fucking immediately. (And I may or may not have fucking sent a very ho-ish snap of this fucker to a friend because of how goddamn pretty that dick is, amateur photo aside.)


Quickly checking his phone, he opens a snap from Uraraka, which is a fondly exasperated selfie with the caption “Hon, you a ho.” That’s a fair assessment. As he’s about to respond, a new snapchat comes through to the Bakusquad group snap from Mina. Turns out her sorority is throwing a party this weekend and she wants him there. He’s moments away from responding with a big fuck no when another snap comes through, promising to find him someone to take to bed. Not to mention the resident queen of their little squad would never shut up if he flaked out on her; no one wants to deal with Ashido’s disappointment. That and he would love to get laid. A lot. Shit. So much so that he’d be willing to deal with Ashido’s annoyingly intrusive sorority sister, Neijire.


Better find something to wear before the pink bitch decides to force him into something far too tight. He does not want to deal with her forced fashion sense ever again. Bakugou shuts his laptop and hauls himself to his feet to head off to class.



Bakugou releases the breath he was holding as he pushes open the door to the sorority house in front of him. As soon as it’s open, the previously muffled music suddenly assaults his ears. He scans the busy room as he unzips his black bomber jacket, revealing an orange crop top beneath. Before he can spot anyone he might actually tolerate talking with, a weight slams into his back, nearly knocking him over. “Bakugou! You came! It’s always a toss up with you. Guess I got through to you with the promise of a lay, didn’t I?” Bakugou simply grunts in reply, not wanting to admit that she’s absolutely right.


“What the fuck ever, Pinky. Just get me a fucking drink.”


“Already got you, fam!” says another familiar chipper voice from behind him.


Bakugo smirks. “Camie. Fucking finally. An asshole I’ll admit to liking.” He takes the cup out of her hands and takes a huge gulp. He’s not sure what it is, but damn is it strong.


“I totes got you, broski. Let’s get lit, yeah?” Bakugou rolls his eyes at her. While Camie barely speaks English half the time, he has to admit she has the potential to be funny.


The party goes on in its obnoxiously loud fashion, and before long, Bakugou is matching Camie shot for shot. Uraraka sits off to the side, watching with Kirishima and nursing her own drink. She finally speaks up, barely being heard over the music: “Damn, Baku. You’ve had enough to start dancing.”


He scowls. “I will never have enough to start dancing.”


“That’s what you said last party, babe.” Kirishima calls. “Next thing I knew, you were using a support beam as a stripper pole.”


Bakugou hums, “Well, I’d be a fucking amazing stripper.”


A shout comes from behind Bakugou, causing him to turn. Kaminari raises a beer in the air as he encourages, “Then show us! Strip, Bakuboi! Take it off!”


Bakugou finds himself actually considering the idea. His head is a little fuzzy drinking and no clothes sounds like an amazing choice to make. But… he came here to get laid, not give a show. His eyes start to wander down Kaminari’s body. It’d be a lie to say he’d never thought of getting with the sparky bastard. All things considered, this is the perfect opportunity. Making up his mind, Bakugou lulls his head back to look up at Kami, while exposing his neck. He purrs growls, “How ‘bout you take ‘em off for me, Pikachu?”


Leaning over the back of the couch, Denki happily drapes himself over Bakugou and questions, “Is that an offer?”


Smirking as he turns his head to nip at Kami’s earlobe, Katsuki breathes out, “Only if you’re going to fucking take it.”


“Oh, you bet I am,” grabbing ahold of Bakugou’s wrist, Kaminari jumps over the back of the couch and pulls Bakugou up to drag him away; however, not before stealing a fierce kiss from those delectable lips. Wolf whistles come from Uraraka and Camie while Kirishima raises his glass to the two with a smile.


Pulling away from the messy liplock with a big smile, Denki sends a wink over to Kiri. He throws out a question asking about any tips, to which he hears from both Uraraka and Kirishima to pay special attention to the side of Bakugou’s neck, particularly below the ear. Bakugou very willingly allows Kaminari to push his head to the side and test the mentioned sensitivity of his neck with a quick nip. The choked back moan proves the statements to be accurate. Excited with the result, Kaminari gives a wave to the crowd of friends as he drags off a grumbling horny Bakuho. Moving down the hallway, the two get impatient enough that they just grab at the first door, which just so happens to be a damn closet. If Bakugou wasn’t so goddamn desperate he’d be cursing the cliché, but he just wants to get fucked. He wants to get fucked right now so bad he decides to ignore the fucking cliché. Shit.


Kaminari shoves Bakugou back against the door he’s just been dragged through. Pushing him flush against the wood, Kaminari greedily mouths at Bakugou’s neck. A moan spills from Baku’s lips as Kaminari sucks at his pulse point. Smiling against the skin, Denki lets his hands roam down the back of Bakugou’s baggy pants and sends a tiny shock through his finger tips. Shocked at the sensation, Bakugou yelps, cursing, “The fuck was that?”


Smirking, Kami leans into Bakugou’s ear and whispers, “Just a little taste of my quirk in the bedroom. It’s not just for the field, you know.”


Pulling away slightly to watch Bakugou’s pupils dilate, Kaminari holds a hand up to show the electricity jumping along his fingers.


“Fuck,” Bakugou hisses, fisting up Kaminari’s stupid graphic t-shirt and dragging him in for another rough kiss. Kaminari moans in approval, sliding his hand up the front of Bakugo’s crop top, and he isn’t sure if the tingling in his abdomen is from Kaminari’s quirk or pure arousal.


Suddenly, Kaminari pulls back far enough to shove Bakugo’s bomber jacket off of his shoulders, and pulls up the hem of his shirt, leaning down to leave kisses and small bites just above his belly button. Bakugo opens his mouth to curse, but instead what comes out is nothing but a goddamn pornographic moan.


“There’s the cockslut I know so well,” Kaminari teases him, looking up at him through feathery blond lashes.


Bakugo growls. “Shut your fucking mouth, shockshit.”


“Only if it’s over yours to taste those sweet noises you’re making.”


One such noise breaks past Bakugou’s lip as Kami’s hand pushes past Bakugou’s waistband and starts groping his ass. “Shi-it,” he bites out as he grinds his knee between Kami’s legs. Kaminari groans and shoves Bakugou’s pants down.


Bakugou lets out a heated moan as Kaminari palms the front of his boxers and leans in to attack his neck with nips and kisses. Bakugou nearly goes boneless under him and he smirks.


“Oh, you like that, do ya?” Kaminari teases. Bakugou moans in approval. “Betcha I can make you feel even better. Get down for a minute.”


Bakugou nods, smirking and sliding down Kaminari’s body and onto his knees.


“I got a nice surprise for you, Bakuho,” Kaminari grins as he unbuckles his pants. He lets them fall around his ankles and Bakugou makes quick work of reaching into Kami’s boxers and freeing his cock. A cock that looks… very familiar in the dim lighting of the closet.


Holy. Shit. Holy fucking shit. Bakugou doesn’t know whether to be embarrassed or ecstatic, gazing at Kaminari’s member. That perfect curve, tapered tip and zig zag vein confirm it. Kaminari had been the one who sent in that fucking gorgeous submission just this afternoon.


Bakugou’s eyes pop wide open as he lets out a shocked, whisper, “What the fuck Pikachu?”


Kaminari smirks. “Surprised to see dick from the pic sent in, Bakuboi?”


The comment takes a moment to register. The moment it does, Bakugou shoots him a glare as he growls, “Wait! Hold the fuck up. You’re the one who was packing this beauty and somehow you knew I was running that fucking blog? But you fucking made me find you ?”


Kaminari laughs. “Oh come on! Who else is slutty enough to run that kind of thing and curses with as much imagination as our resident Bakuho? I know I’m stupid, but even I’m not that stupid.”


“Fuck you.” Bakugou glares up at Kaminari, reaching out and giving his cock an experimental stroke, running his thumb along that zig zag vein that traveled up from the base. Kami sighs, his cock twitching slightly in Bakugou’s rough palm.


Damn. That beauty Bakugou been dying to sit on a few short hours ago was actually so close he could almost taste it. If only Kaminari wasn’t being so damn smug about stringing the grumpy ho along. He keeps trying to tease him: “You’ve been wanting this dick since I sent it in haven’t you? Been dying for a piece of this.”


Bakugou finally decides to shut that idiot up in the best fucking way he knows how. He leans forward, taking as much of Kaminari’s cock as he can into his mouth. Kaminari lets out a choked moan and tangles his fingers in Bakugou’s hair. “Fuuuuuck…”


God fucking damn it. Of course Shockstick had to be one of the chatty ones. He begins to bob his head, taking Kami’s dick a little further down. He grunts in response, tugging on his hair.


After a few minutes Bakugou comes off of Kaminari’s cock with a slurp that makes him shudder. “Shit, that’s good,” Kaminari sighs. “Now come on. Gotta give you what you want, isn’t that right?”


Bakugou growls, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a condom and a travel sized bottle of lube. Kaminari’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Wow, look who came prepared--”


“Just shut the fuck up and touch me, will you?” Bakugou stands, looking ready to punch the idiot’s face in, and Kaminari would have taken it seriously if he hadn’t immediately turned around and bent over, leaning against the wall.


“Oh, now that’s a pretty picture right there. Seeing the Bakuho assuming his natural position...” He saunters up behind Bakugou, trailing the backs of his fingers up the back of his thigh and under the leg of his boxers. He sends a tiny tingle of electricity out through his fingertips, and Bakugou moans. “That’s right. You like this don’t you?” He reaches up and yanks down his boxers, finally giving him the ability to run his hands over Bakugou’s bare ass.


Bakugou lets out a soft yelp as Kaminari brings his hand down hard on his left asscheeck. “You want it?”


“Fucking yes, I do, asshole. Would  you just— ah!” He yelps again as Kaminari slaps him across the ass again, this time discharging a small spark as he makes contact. “Fuck!”


“You like that?” Bakugou nods and lets out a moan, sticking his ass out even more as an invitation. A chill runs up Bakugou’s spine as he hears the lid on the tiny bottle of lube open. Fucking finally. Please let this stupid Shockstick dick him until he can’t hear his stupid one liners.


Kaminari applies a generous amount of lube to his fingers and braces one hand on Bakugou’s ass, spreading him slightly. He gently traces his fingers around his hole and Bakugou whimpers.


Before long Kaminari has worked two of his fingers inside of Bakugou, scissoring them to stretch him out even more. Bakugou is letting out a series of slutty moans as Kaminari repeatedly brushes over a specific bundle of nerves inside of him.


Bakugou had noticed, that just like the rest of him, Kaminari’s fingers were long and thin, almost elegant in their shape. But he never imagined that his idiot friend’s fingers could ever feel this masterful and sure. He can feel tears form at the corners of his eyes with the intensity of his pleasure. He’s about to come undone if he doesn’t get fucked right now.


“D-Denki,” he gasps, thrusting his hips back against his fingers. “Denki, please !”


“Begging, Katsuki? Oh that’s gorgeous. I’m not done with you just yet though.” Bakugou can hear the smile in his voice.


“What the fuck are you— aah!” Bakugou lets out a downright sob, his cock jumping dangerously as he barely manages to keep himself from coming as Kaminari sends out another low level charge. It’s barely static, really, but the way it prickles his nerves feels so fucking right. If he died right now he couldn’t find it in him to mind. He lets out another high pitched moan as Kaminari does it again, and then whimpers as he pulls his fingers out.

Kaminari grabs the condom off the closet shelf and makes short work or tearing it open and rolling it on. “Gonna fuck you so good you won’t remember your fucking name.” He coats his cock with lube before lining up with Bakugou’s entrance.


“Fuck yes. Just fuck me already, goddamn shitty Pikachu.” Bakugou is fucking ready. Every hair on his body is standing on end. He can feel the heat of Kaminari behind him as he lines up, and when he finally thrusts in, Bakugou keens, arching his back into Kaminari.


He starts slow, but begins to set into a brutal pace before too long, absolutely wrecking Bakugou while he moans like a cheap whore. This is it. This is the good dicking that he had been craving, and it’s so damn good he honestly can’t see straight.


“Fuck, Denki— shit!” Bakugou’s fingers claw against the wall as he fights against accidentally discharging his own quirk. Kaminari sending out small shocks into his hips is hot as hell. Bakugou accidentally blowing out a fucking wall? Not so much.


“Oh! Fuck— oh yeah…” Kaminari pounds into him with a harsh intensity. It’s rough and violent and sloppy and everything Bakugou wants. And when Kaminari trails his hand over Bakugou’s nipples, sending tiny shocks into them, Bakugou loses it, finally toppling over the cliff into orgasm. It doesn’t take more than a few more thrusts for Kaminari to lose himself too, letting out a long, drawn out moan. “Shit, Katsuki. What took us so long?”


All the Bakuho can do is laugh as he stands on shaky legs. “Fucking beats me.”


There’s a beat of satisfied silence as the two clean themselves as best they can and get dressed again. Kaminari is just about to head to the door when Bakugou speaks up. “Oi, Pikachu. Don’t use flash and send me overexposed bullshit ever again.”


Kaminari blinks. Once. Twice. And then he laughs. “Alright babe I’ll keep that in mind.” And with that he opens the door, the party’s loud music blaring in their faces as they return to their cheering friends for the rest of the night.



Fuck. Bakugou squints his eyes and rolls away from the sunlight because fuck that when waking up, even if it is noon. That party last night was actually a damn good time, but waking up with a hangover is never fucking fun. Thank fucking god he actually got laid last night and somehow the goddamn dumbass was one of the submissions to his damn blog. Speaking of…

Bakugou pulls his phone out from under his pillow and opens up his blog. Scrolling back to Kaminari’s submission, Bakugou types: Edit: I DID put this fucking beauty in my mouth. And up my ass. Gotta say, it was a goddamn amazing time. 10/10 would suck/fuck again.

Chapter Text

A wake up call… is here! A wake up call… is here!


Bakugou lets out a long groan as he blindly reaches for his his alarm clock, which has to have the most stubborn fucking snooze button. He finally turns it off and rolls off his bed and onto the floor with a soft thud. Fuck, he doesn’t want to get up. He had all of Saturday to rest off his killer hangover and throbbing ass. Dealing with a pounding headache, while still fucking sore as hell from taking it from Kaminari is a fucking painful combination. A full day of rest was definitely needed before today though. Because Sunday means it’s time for another day at the Remedial License Course with fucking Half and Half.


Not fucking ready to deal with this shit, but he wants his fucking license already. Picking himself off the ground, Bakugou gets himself ready for today’s lesson. He’s just throwing his gym bag over his shoulder when the fucking prick he’s stuck with for the rest of the day is knocking on his door and urging him to hurry. As if he doesn’t fucking know it’s time to go. Throwing the door open, he’s already glaring when Icy Hot comes into view. “I fucking know when we leave. Just not looking to fucking waste time with you beforehand.”


Todoroki blinks at Bakugou, entirely unimpressed. “If you know when we leave, I shouldn’t have to be at your door to say we should have left by now.”


Okay. The fucker has him on that one, but there’s no way Bakugou is giving the bastard the satisfaction of knowing that. Sneering at the stupid prick, Bakugou shoves him away as he pulls his door shut. “Whatever, fuckface. Let’s just fucking get over there and get this day over with.”


Meeting Present Mic and the newly retired All Might gives way to a repeat lecture on tardiness (even though they reached the assigned meeting place with five minutes to spare). Once Mic uses up those extra five minutes to say they should have left already, they file into the school’s provided transportation to make their way to the remedial course. Which of course is where they say that everyone needs to file onto a bus because today’s training is going to be at the USJ, back in the direction they just fucking came from. Why they couldn’t have just taken the goddamn car there themselves? Who the fuck knows. After just arriving, everyone gets onto the bus for extra wasted travel times.


Finally with a second to sit and relax away from assholes, Bakugou pulls out his phone and opens up his blog inbox. He has two submissions so far. Cool. Something to fucking do. He opens the first one.


Oh, well good morning, dick print! Bakugou is greeted with an almost tasteful image of someone in sweatpants, gripping their clothed cock in a way where he could see its clear outline, effectively showing a lot, but leaving even more to the imagination. He takes a moment to appreciate it, before starting his review.


8/10 I love me a good fucking dick print. Goddamn great lighting and hand position. Makes me want more and that’s the goddamn point.

Taking a last appreciative thirsty look at the first submission, Bakugou moves on to the next. Ameteur. It’s a real dark shot of an average dick pulled out of the waistband of his pants. All in all, sub-par.


5/10 Meh. Not good, not bad. Give me something to actually drool over here. It looks like a lazy fucking cell phone picture that you just decided to wing one day cause some bitch asked and you delivered half assed. Try again.


Just as he hits send on the post the bus slows to a stop. Bakugou hears a shuffling just over his shoulder and his stomach drops to his ankles. Holy fucking shit, it’s goddamn Icy Hot. Had he been sitting behind Bakugou the whole time? Had he seen what he was doing? How much had he seen? Fuck fuck fuck.


Todoroki isn’t bothering to look at him though. He’s just collecting his bag and making his way off the bus. Able to breathe again, Bakugou locks his phone and follows suit. Fucking remedial lessons.



Bakugou opens his blog as soon as he sits down on the bus. For a stupid fucking class, they know how to run their heroes ragged. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Bakugou tosses his gauntlets into the seat beside him and settles back for the ride ahead. He had received two more submissions since the last time he checked. He opens the first one, and oh holy sweet fucksticks.


Before him on his phone screen is possibly the most beautiful cock he’s ever had the pleasure to fucking witness. Sure the guy went a little overboard on manscaping, as he can’t see even one hair in the image. The dick itself is the star of the show here. It has a gentle upward curve, and it’s perfectly proportioned. However, the photo seems almost to be geared to show off as little of the subject’s body as possible, and with the hint of fucking abs that Bakugou can see at the edge of the photo, that is so goddamn unacceptable he almost can’t take it.


Bakugou has seen all kinds of dicks, but this is certainly the most photogenic cock he’s ever seen. He takes a long time to stare at the gorgeous specimen before starting to type.


9/10 fucking G O R G E O U S seriously how is your dick so goddamn pRETTY OH MY GOD This may be the prettiest penis I have ever laid eyes on. If I had to dock you on anything (and you bet your fucking ass I will) I can’t see enough of your body and I think I can see abs and fuck you for hiding that shit.


Bakugou supposes he should look at the last submission, though he can’t imagine it would be anywhere near as beautiful as the one before it.  He opens it and takes a look.


Yeah. Its fine. It’s a  pretty specimen without any effort put into the photo that leaves the Bakuho quite disappointed. He manages to get the rating out pretty quickly.


4/10 Pretty cock, but that’s not the only thing you need to send a good goddamn dick pic. You need to put some effort into it, dickweed. I don’t wanna see this lazy jackassery.


After hitting send on the submission Bakugou looks back at the picture from before. Not to edit the post or anything, just to look at it after being let down by the final submission. What he wouldn’t give to sit on that beauty.


Suddenly, in a random bout of paranoia, Bakugou looks around the bus and his blood runs cold as he sees the Half and Half bastard turning his head away from him. Shit. Was that just a coincidence? Had he been looking? He knows Todoroki is aware of his reputation but he would definitely prefer not to have him witness it in action unless it was under his terms.


His terms.


Huh. Fucking Icy Hot might not be that bad. If nothing else he’d have a pretty face to get off on looking at while getting dick.


The rest of the ride back to the usual remedial training location is boring as shit. Not much to do. No dick to look at. No way was he gonna talk to people. Plus Todoroki keeps giving him a weirdass look and he ain’t fucking with that. With the bus pulling up to the building, Bakugou is already up and moving towards the door. The sooner he’s fucking off, the better. Hopping off the bus as soon as the doors open, Bakugou heads straight to the showers. He feels gross and sore and he needs a few minutes away from Half and Half’s piercing stare. What the fuck is up with that guy?


He doesn’t take long to shower, but the locker room is almost completely empty by the time he gets out, making it the perfect time to not give a shit (even though that’s basically always). He slings his towel over his shoulder, stepping out into the locker room in all of his naked glory. He stalks over to his locker, violently rubbing the towel through his hair. When he looks up, it’s just him, Baldy and fucking Icy Hot. Though of course Baldy takes one look at Bakugou’s complete lack of modesty and high tails it out of there since he’s already dressed in his stupid Shiketsu uniform.


There’s a long silence as Bakugou pulls his clothes out of his locker. He runs the towel over his head one last time and he’s just about to put on his boxers when he realizes that Todoroki has not moved for the past solid minute. He’s just standing there, in his boxers and t-shirt, looking into his empty locker.


Bakugou rolls his eyes. Fuckin weirdo. He’s just about to step into the first leg of his boxers when-


“I couldn’t help but notice that you took an extra moment to look at my dick pic.”


Bakugou spluttered, almost fucking face planting into the lockers. “Wait you fucking noticed that--” Fuck. Wait. “Hold the fuck on. Your what , Icy Hot?!”


The little shit had the nerve to fucking smirk. “That’s what I thought.”



Bakugou isn’t sure when he went from glowering at the half and half bastard from an acceptable distance to splayed out underneath him on the locker room bench like a goddamn feast, but he’d be lying if he said he was complaining. Todoroki has his hot mouth on his cock and a freezing hand pressed into the center of his chest to hold him down, and Bakugou is shuddering. He arches weakly against Todoroki’s palm and lets out a soft keen as he swirls his tongue around the head again. Todoroki comes off with a pop, earning another whine from the blond underneath him.


“Shut up,” Todoroki growls, sliding his hand up Bakugou’s chest until it rests loosely around his throat. “You don’t want everyone to know what a slut you are, do you?”


He doesn’t answer Todoroki, glaring daggers as he reaches one hand up to the one resting on his throat and squeezes, allowing the other man to cut off Bakugou’s air. Todoroki lets out a strangled groan in response, tightening his fingers and watching his eyes roll back into his head. “You love this, don’t you,” Todoroki hissed in his ear. All Katsuki can do is shudder in response.


A banging on the door makes the pair jump, springing apart as if being on opposite sides of the room would excuse their flushed faces and the thick scent of arousal in the air. Bakugou scrambles off the bench and wraps his towel around his waist because as much as he lacks decency, he does not need anyone coming in and figuring out what they’re doing. The door swings open as Inasa storms in, shouting, “Todoroki! Bakugou! Are you two almost done? I know lessons are over, but we could spend our time getting more familiar with each other while we wait for our teachers to collect us. Camie told me to come see what the hold up was!”


Bakugou opens his mouth to tell him to fuck off, but Todoroki beats him to it, calmly telling Inasa, “We’re just enjoying a bit of solitude, Inasa. Today was taxing and we need a moment away from everyone before we go back to UA where our classmates will no doubt be far too excitable. We’ll see you and Camie at next week’s lessons.”


Inasa bows deeply, head hitting the floor as he apologizes, “I’m sorry! Forgive me! I didn't mean to intrude on your peace and quiet.”


Todoroki waves him off, not needing the apology. With a promise to keep in touch during the week, Inasa leaves the two to their “quiet.” Todoroki waits until Inasa’s footsteps fade away before stalking across the room to Bakugou, weaving his fingers through coarse, blond locks and yanking his head back. “Where were we…” the half and half bastard growls, a predatory look in his eye.


Bakugou gasps and drops his towel as Todoroki bites down at the juncture between neck and shoulder, his knees buckling. He barely manages to catch himself by leaning against the lockers behind him as he breathes a long string of expletives, his cock pulsing dangerously. “Damn you, Icy Hot,” he hisses as the bastard trails his ice cold fingers down his chest, ghosting over his nipples. He gasps, biting down on his fist to muffle a yelp as Todoroki pinches one nipple and twists slightly.




“Fucking… what?” Bakugou breathes, all of the blood in his brain rushing south.


“If we’re really going to do this, you’re going to forget your stupid nicknames. Call me by my fucking name.” He pauses, a small smirk on his face. “Unless you’d like to call me Sir.”


“...Fuck you.”


“Fuck you, what?”


Bakugou wants to put the bastard’s head through the wall, but with dick so close he doesn’t dare, instead biting out, “Fuck you… Sir .”


“Good boy.”


Katsuki moans softly at the praise, unable to wait a moment longer, and Todoroki watches with a satisfied smirk as the now compliant Bakuho sinks to his knees at his feet.

While Todo-- Shouto’s shirt had come off during the first clash of tongues and teeth that brought them to this situation, his boxers had remained on. Knowing the beauty that awaits him just underneath plaid cotton, Bakugou deems that completely fucking unacceptable and makes short work of them, allowing the most photogenic cock he’s ever seen in his life to spring free.


Shouto once again laces his fingers through his hair, giving it an encouraging tug. “Never thought you’d willingly shut yourself up,” he rasps. “Thought I would have to do that for you.”


Looking up from his place by Todoroki’s pelvis, Bakugou smirks as he gives the head a teasing lick. “Do that for me? You’re fucking welcome to try. I’m very vocal.”


Watching Shouto’s cock twitch and eyes dilate is a welcome sight that goes to straight to his own crotch. The initial encouraging tug tightens into a firm yank, drawing a low moan from Bakugou as he moves to take Shouto into his mouth.


He’s never admitted it out loud, but Bakugou Katsuki has a special place in his heart for sucking cock. Something about it is just so fucking powerful, and the chance to seize a tiny bit of control while still on his knees is always exciting for him.


His enthusiasm surprises Shouto, who lets a choked gasp slip as Katuski wraps his lips around his tip and takes over half of him down effortlessly. He grits his teeth, his head falling back against the lockers with a soft thud as he resists the urge to fuck the boy’s face. The urge only grows stronger as Katsuki bobs his head, slowly working his way up and further down his length. Little by little, Katsuki works the rest of Shouto’s cock into his mouth, only gagging slightly when the tip first hits the back of his throat.


Breathing carefully through his nose Katsuki angles his gaze up to the other boy’s face and Shouto nearly comes on the spot. With the tip of his nose brushing Shouto’s pelvis, his entire cock stuffing his mouth full, and that proud glint in his hooded eyes, Bakguou Katsuki makes for a hell of a sight. Shouto’s fingers tighten in his hair and his eyes fall shut in euphoria as Bakugou bobs his head in slow shallow movements, occasionally swallowing around the tip of his cock. It’s after the fourth time he swallows that Shouto loses it, yanking on Katsuki’s hair and snapping his hips against his face with a deep groan.


The blond chokes, gagging as he comes off Shouto’s cock with a wet slurp. “Sorry,” Shouto mumbles, carding his hands through Katsuki’s hair. Katsuki only nods, stroking the half and half bastard’s cock while he catches his breath enough to tell him off.


“Shit, Icy Hot,” Katsuki’s voice is even rougher than usual. “If you want to fuck me that badly then let’s just fucking get on with it yeah?”


Shouto would like that. Very much. But… “What did you call me?” He punctuates the question with a sharp tug to his hair.


Katsuki yelps, his cock jumping between his thighs. “F-fuck… Sorry-- ah… sir .”


“Come here.”


Katsuki complies immediately, scrambling to his feet, ignoring how his knees protest the sudden movement. Shouto readjusts his grip in Katsuki’s hair and brings him right up into a crushing kiss. Katsuki whimpers into Shouto’s mouth as he bites down on his lower lip. He’s so lost in the intensity of the kiss that he doesn’t even realize that Shouto is moving him back toward the nearest bench until he bumps into it, nearly falling backwards over it. “Shit!”


Shouto uses his momentum to push Katsuki down on the bench before maneuvering the blondes legs over his shoulders. Katsuki laid out on the bench, his chest heaving, sucking sweet oxygen through his kiss bruised lips is a sight to remember and Shouto knows he’ll have it burned into his mind. Laid out on his back panting, with an arm thrown over his face-- oh now that won’t do. As he begins caressing Katuski’s ass, listening to the soft moans it elicits, Shouto instructs, “If we’re going to continue, I need to see your face. So you’re going to  reach behind you, grab hold of that fucking bench, and you’re not going to let go until I’m done with you.”


Katsuki lets out the highest pitched whine that Shouto’s ever heard as he moves to comply with the demands set before him. Todoroki smirks as he squirts lube into his left hand, using his quirk to gently warm it up before generously coating it onto the fingers of his right hand. “Fuck. Will you please just get your fucking fingers in my ass already?”




Taking a shuddering breath at the stare from Shouto, Katuski drops his head back farther on the bench. “Fuuuuuck. Will you-- shit… will you please finger me… sir?”


“Good boy, Katuski. Keep asking nicely for me.”


Slowly, Shouto rubs at Katsuki’s entrance, waiting. Another high pitched whine leaves Katsuki’s lips, and Shouto knows he’s going to do all he can to keep that coming. As Bakugou starts his plea, Shouto slowly inserts his first finger. “Ple-Ease. Ah. Oh fuck. Sir . Ha. AH. Please.”


Inserting another finger, Todoroki lowers the temperature of his right side, feeling Katsuki clench around his cold fingers. The noise that leaves Bakugou’s throat is a strangled shout as one hand leaves the bench to latch onto his own hair.




Todoroki jolts, fingers jerking at the sudden entrance of Inasa. Katsuki arches and keens at the unexpected curl of fingers brushings his prostate, both hands desperately straining to maintain their grip. Apparently, Katsuki’s cry out got the attention of their loud overenthusiastic remedial classmate, who is now standing frozen in the doorway that he just blew open. Inasa stares at the unexpected scene before him, turning bright red as he tries to explain himself. “I- there was a shout- I thought- danger- needed help?”


Panting and sounding far too wrecked to be threatening, Bakugou growls, “Oh for fuck’s sake ! Either get --ah-- the fuck over here. And join. Or fucking leave already, asshole.”


While the thought of Inasa joining put all sorts of incredible fantasies in his head, Katsuki can tell by the look on his face that Baldy’s just a little too straight for this. Too bad.


“I will be leaving! Sorry!” With one last bow Inasa slams the door shut and runs back down the hall.


With the interference definitely not returning, Katsuki looks back to Shouto to make a comment, but it gets lost in a moan as Shouto decides he’s been paused for long enough and starts scissoring his fingers. He takes his damn sweet time preparing him, and by the time Shouto finally deems him ready, Katsuki’s thighs are shaking, his knuckles white.


He isn’t sure where Shouto pulls the condom from, but he is grateful he remembered. “You gonna be good for me, Katsuki?” He rasps, somehow even making rolling on the condom sexy.


“A-ah… Yes. Please, sir!” He gasps as Shouto shifts, pressing the blunt end of his cock against his hole.


Shouto smirks, a small dimple warping the edge of his scar, and wraps his right hand around his throat once again. “I don’t think I need to tell you why you should be quiet this time, Katsuki.” The blond shudders as a chill passes from his throat down his spine. He nods weakly as Shouto squeezes just a little tighter. “Good boy.”


And with that, he presses forward.


Bakugou drags in a ragged breath as he feels Shouto breach him. Shit shit shit shit…! His eyes roll back into his head as inch by inch he takes his entire cock. They both let out quiet moans as he bottoms out, and that’s the last bit of mercy Katsuki receives.


Shouto sets a savage pace from the very start, and it’s all Katsuki can do to hold on to the bench and not let his screams echo through the locker room. The sounds of rough, sloppy sex are loud enough, and he knows adding his voice to the mix would mean either punishment or being walked in on again.


Despite the wicked pistoning of his hips, the good Lord Fuckface of Assholery above him looks infuriatingly composed. His lips are parted, his eyes shut-- are his eyelashes different colors too? Fuck he knew that he would have something pretty to look at while getting dick, but that composure has to be broken. So, Katsuki takes a deep breath, and lets go of the bench to prop himself up on his elbows.


Shouto hates being disobeyed, but thankfully he allows Katsuki’s legs to fall from his shoulders, instead wrapping tightly around his waist. Now sitting up slightly, Bakugou leans in and bites down in the exact same spot Shouto bit him, smirking into his skin at the answering gasp. That’s better. Shouto’s thrusts become impossibly rougher and deeper as Katsuki continues to mark up his skin. Shoulders, neck, chest, Katsuki explores every inch he can, and when he drags his teeth down Shouto’s collarbone he is rewarded with a deep groan. “Fuck… Katsuki! I’m gonna--!”


“Please! Yes… please sir-- let me cum? I- I wanna… ah!” Katsuki is whimpering sofly in Shouto’s ear, and it finally becomes too much for either of them to take. Katsuki tips over first, turning his head to crush his lips against Shouto’s, who follows not long after, fucking him through both of their orgasms.


When they finally come down, they are a tangled mass of trembling limbs. It takes a moment for either of them to move, and even longer to speak.


Katsuki breaks the silence first. “Where the fuck… did you pull that condom from? That was some magician shit.”


“Literally from your bag.” Shouto has the audacity to look confused he even asked. “It wasn’t a hard guess that you had a stash.”  


Katsuki barks a laugh as he sits up, and then winces. Getting dicked, training and getting dicked again in the span of forty eight hours, as it turns out, takes a fuckton out of a guy. It’s a good thing he has the afternoon and evening to recover before class tomorrow. “Well shit, IcyHot. You ever need to bone again, you text me, got it?”


Shouto smirks. “I’ll consider,” he calls over his shoulder as he turns away, grabbing two small towels from Bakugou’s bag. He tosses one to Katsuki as he begins wiping himself down. Once he deems himself clean enough to make the trip back to the dorms where he’ll have time to shower (again), he moves to Katsuki and gently places his right hand against his sore throat. Katsuki looks up at the cold touch, raising an eyebrow in question. “Wouldn’t want you having a handprint bruise where everyone can see it. Not after all you did to keep quiet for me to prevent people knowing.”


Grunting in acknowledgement, Katsuki tosses the soiled towel and shoves aside Shouto’s hand. “Let it. Be a bit before it shows anyway. Besides, that wasn’t enough pressure to show the whole hand. No one will figure it out. Try harder next time.” He winks before slowly raising himself off the bench to pull his clothes on. Perhaps Sunday Remedial Classes weren’t the worst thing to happen to him, he thinks as he pulls out his phone.


Edit: Fuck dudes it’s even prettier in person!!!

Chapter Text

If you’re going to wear a goddamn button down in your dick pic then at least have the fucking decency to leave it open. Okay hand positioning. Your lighting is waaaay too fuckin dark. 6/10


Bakugou slumps in his seat as he posts the last rating in his inbox and checks down the row of seats. Present Mic has made it to his row. He hates having to come to class for these stupid writing conferences, but at least he can go back to his dorm as soon as Mic finishes reviewing his stupid paper. He glances at the four pages of bullshit on the desk next to him and winces. Usually he wouldn’t have had to write it in one night, but between his remedial classes and the rest of his workload this deadline snuck up on him. He rests his head on his arms and sighs. 


He hears the classroom door open and shut and someone shuffles in late, taking a seat in the last row directly behind him. 


“Long night, Bakuho?”


Shit. Bakugou’s lip curls. Monoma. The bastard seems to have a vendetta against damn near half the freshman class, himself included. He doesn’t know what his issue is, but he also doesn’t want to fucking deal with it today either. 


“Huh… you know,” the human embodiment of all things bitch continued, “I’d be more worried about keeping your head up before ah... anything else .”


What? “Fuck!” Bakugou hissed, slamming his laptop shut. He had forgotten to change his tab, switch to Word, anything to hide the incriminating sight of his blog from anyone. And now Monoma has seen it. Awesome.


“What is that? A hobby of yours? It figures that all those rumours about you being a cock connoisseur would actually turn out to be true.” Monoma laughs, loud enough for Mic to glance up before going back to critiquing Sero’s paper. 


Bakugou’s ears burn. Any other time he could take this from the copy cunt but in the middle of class ? Sure he was shameless, but he definitely drew the line at his professors knowing his hobbies. “Would you shut your pathetic fucking mouth, dipshit? I’ll fucking destroy you if you breathe another word of this.” 


“So it’s your blog. I should have known only you were capable of that level of filth. I wish I could say I was surprised.” The bastard sneers.


Bakugou’s hands curl into fists on the desk in front of him. If this bitch was looking for a fight he’d get one, but not in the middle of his 10 a.m. English class. So instead, he plasters his usual smirk on his face and turns around, leaning on Monoma’s desk. 


“Sounds like you’ve been thinking about me a lot there, babe.” He drawls. “If you’re that curious about my… palette, I’d be happy to help myself to a taste.” 


Well, shit. That worked better than Katsuki could have hoped. Monoma immediately pulls back in his seat. He blanches slightly, before blooming scarlet from the neck up. “F-fucking slut. Do you have a single ounce of shame?”


“Nope!” Bakugou pops the p happily before sneering at the other blond. “Now fuck off, will you?” And with that he turns back to his own desk, where Mic is just now approaching to discuss his polished turd of a paper. Monoma doesn’t say a word for the rest of class, and Bakugou is more than satisfied with his silence. Seriously, fuck that guy. 



Slamming his tray between his boyfriend and Kaminari, Bakugou slides onto the bench at the squad’s usual lunch table. So far, it’s just the three of them. “Alright, shitheads. Fucking look at this dick.” 


Bakugou takes out his phone and holds it out to show the boys the recent pic he’d been eyeing in the hallway. Eijirou is his boyfriend so of course he’s going to show him. And Kaminari already knows about the blog since he fucking sent in his own . Might as well use their knowledge to have more opinions on the pretty pieces he gets to judge. What he isn’t counting on is Sero making his way to the table at that precise moment and looking directly over his shoulder at the photo. Sero lets out a low whistle at his angry friend, “Is the amount of dick in your personality not enough for you, man?”


“Well fuck you, Soy Sauce. I’d like a bigger dick in me. More specifically: in my ass. Problem?”


Setting his tray on the table across from his squad, Sero laughs at his angry friend. “Relax, Blasty. I’m pretty sure we all know you’re a bit of a hoe. Nothing wrong with that. It’s not really much of a surprise that account there is how you spend your free time. So who’s dick is it we’re all appreciating? Is it mine?”


“You did not send one in to me.”


Sero shoves a fork-full of food into his mouth as he mumbles, “Mm. As far as you know.”


Bakugou side eyes Sero and makes sure to store that little tidbit in the back of his mind for later. He then goes back to the picture in question. The photo shows a pretty 5 ½ inch dick that curves ever so slightly. Whoever took it has an apparent playful side. They’ve positioned their middle finger to sit against their dick, drawing the attention of the viewer. Gotta love a little personality. “Well, back to the specific specimen in question.”


Kaminari cuts him off, “Wait, wait. Specimen? That’s what you call a dick?”


“If it’s a pretty piece, yeah sure. Anyway , back to it. Look at this fucker. The composition isn’t anything special and really it isn’t the best picture, but damn if it doesn’t get prettier the more I look at it. And I’m pissed about how much I want to sit on that fucking prick’s middle finger flipping me off right next to his dick. This is definitely a pretentious asshole and I don’t even fucking care.” 


Kiri laughs as he throws his arm over Bakugou’s shoulders to pull him close and look at the photo a little closer. “Okay, babe. We got it. You like the dick? Get after it. But first, what’s the verdict on this ‘specimen’ of yours?”


Bakugou looks back down at the submission while biting his lip. Considering for a moment he reads aloud as he types:


6/10 Alright we’re gonna address the elephant in the room here first. You’re fucking flipping me off. Haha. Very funny asshole. Good dick I guess. Composition could use some work. But damn that thing gets prettier the more I look at it. And alright fuck I’m lying, you flipping me off is annoyingly hot and I want to sit on that fucking finger and spin. But using that as the focal point and not your dick? Fuck you.


Sero laughs at how annoyed Bakugou is at attention being taken away from a dick. Kaminari hums in appreciation while munching on his sandwich as Kirishima smiles, grabbing Katsuki’s chin to pull him close for a kiss on the cheek. As the squad enjoys their laughter and teasing, a voice shouts across the cafeteria. Bakugou looks to the call of his name. “Hey there Bakugou! How goes it, hoe?”


Bakugou glares at the fucking asshole. If the prick could just leave him the fuck alone, that’d be great. And, the asshole is not wrong. He is a hoe, but fucking calling him out in the middle of the goddamn cafeteria packed with students? Fucking pretentious prick. 




That pretentious prick? He’s holding a pretentious middle finger next to his covered prick. Just like the goddamn photo he was just drooling over. 


The fucking dick is fucking Monoma’s. The world must really fucking hate him. Goddammit! Bakugou immediately looks away from Monoma, staring down at the stupid submission. “FUCK!” Bakugou screams as he slams his head on the table, rattling his friend’s lunches. The retreating laughter ringing in his ears really doesn’t do anything to help. Ignoring the questions the boys at his table send his way, Bakugou shoves his lunch away and storms across the cafeteria. 


Finding the person he’s looking for, Bakugou throws one leg over the bench to straddle it as he stares at Uraraka, slamming his hand on the table in front of her. Before she can do anything more than look to him in shock, Bakugou blurts out, “I gotta fuck Monoma.”


Iida nearly chokes on his lunch across the table. Didn’t really notice Glasses there, but too late to go back now. He was a little focused on getting to Raka and ranting, so he was a little distracted. Raka is staring at him, mouth agape as she asks, “Kat. Why do you have to fuck Monoma?”


Still with a slight bit of red dusting his cheeks, Bakugou angrily holds his phone out to her, showing Monoma’s stupid submission. Raka takes the phone, gives the picture a once over and looks back at Bakugou. “Okay. So he has a pretty decent penis. Yes, you’re a cockslut. But that doesn’t mean you have to fuck him.”


Bakugou groans, “Are we looking at the same dick here, Raka? Look at that thing and the stupid fucking bullshit taunting. You know I gotta hop on that dick. FUCK. I have to fuck Monoma. I’m going to fuck Monoma. Goddammit. Fucking hell, why?”


Uraraka laughs at her friend’s dilemma. “Oh you stupid bitch. You know you’ll have to swallow your pride to get it, right?”


“Won’t be the only thing I’ll be swallowing. Ideally.”


Iida gets his wits about him and for the first time since Bakugou had his outburst, he manages to form a coherent thought. “What the two of you are discussing is incredibly inappropriate. How did this even come up?”


As if it’s the most obvious and normal thing in the world--though for him it really is-- Bakugou replies flatly, “Monoma found my dick pic rating blog and sent his own in.”


Iida sputters, “Why would you have this?!”


Shrugging while looking at the photo again, Bakugou explains, “I like dicks.”  


“It has also gotten him laid a few times now. So you know he has to keep it going.” This is added by Uraraka as she goes back to her lunch. For her, this is just any other day with Bakugou. All that is missing is a spar that ends with her sitting on his face. Well they can still have that later, considering it is unlikely Bakugou will take Monoma’s bait for a few more days, yet. “Well, what’s your plan, slut?”


“...I at least have to make the fuckface wait. Make him come to me again. Keep some of my goddamn dignity with this. Guess we’ll have to see how the next few days go. Cause fuck him. Two can tease.” 


Iida only stares. “Why are you like this?”


“Just am,” Bakugou calls over his shoulder as he stands to head back to his usual squad. He doesn’t really want to be here with Deku and Todoroki walking over. His idiots are enough trouble. 



Those next few days are absolute shit. 


Bakugou goes to the gym to train. Monoma is there with his stupid middle finger. Bakugou goes to class and Monoma is giving him bedroom eyes. He swears Monoma has never been around this often, but now the fucker just keeps showing up at every turn. The most annoying part? Monoma clearly has the upper hand. Bakugou has been trying to get him just as riled, but that is not working in the slightest. Monoma is certainly interested, that’s very apparent on his face. But somehow, the asshole has more self control and patience than Bakugou. 


Fuck. Bakugou is going to be the one to break first.


Maybe he can hold out. Maybe he can outlast the Copy-Cunt. Maybe-- oh fuck no he can’t. No he can’t. 


Their classes are sparring together today because Aizawa and Vlad wanted to give everyone some different competition; vary the opponents and fighting style matchups. Bakugou is currently staring at Monoma, who somehow managed to pin Sero. Which doesn’t last long since Sero is tough competition (because fuck you, Bakugou only lets the best into his squad). But holy hell. Those two seconds of seeing that asshole take down someone and have them pinned to the floor? Yeah it was hot as hell and doing it for Bakugou. It does not help that the bitch had the nerve to find Bakugou just to fucking wink at him. 


Yeah, he’s gotta fuck him after this. He can’t keep avoiding it anymore. 


For the rest of the merged training class, Bakugou is distracted with planning his next move. He’s struggling to figure out how to possibly maintain even the smallest shred of his pride in this scenario. He really can’t find an answer. So far his only option is to just head over to 1B’s dorm afterwards for his dicking down. 

He’s still running bullshit scenarios in his head as he downs his water beside his bag. Vlad and Aisawa Sensei are talking over on the side of the gym, likely discussing which students need to improve what and how they can work it into later trainings. Bakugou is trying to read their lips to see what they say about him when he feels someone trail a finger up his spine, making him shiver. He doesn’t bother to turn around.


Monoma continues trailing his finger along Bakugou’s back, bringing his head forward to whisper in Bakugou’s ear. “Second floor. Third door on the right. I’ll leave it unlocked so you can crawl right on in.”


The warmth vanishes as Monoma pulls away, already starting a conversation with Kendo about how much 1B crushed 1A in training. (That’s bullshit.) But Bakugou can’t be bothered by that because he’s too focused on not popping a boner in the middle of the training room. Unfreezing, Bakugou screws his water bottle shut, chucks it in his bag, yanks the bag up over his shoulder, stomps after Monoma, grabs him by the wrist and drags him along. Monoma is making that stupid fucking smug face behind him, but fuck it. They’re getting up to that room. Now


“Well. I know you’re a little slut, but a little eager are we?”


“The sooner we get up there the sooner I can fucking cross this off my list and be fucking done with you. You’re the worst .”


Monoma fucking laughs at him and goddamn it Bakugou wants to punch him in the face but dammit he wants that dick first. Dick first. Fist after. Bakugou inwardly curses at the poor wording. Dick first. Punch later.



Bakugou isn’t the only one who’s impatient, he thinks with a smirk as the door clicks shut against his back. Monoma wastes no time crowding against him the moment they are alone, licking into his mouth like someone starving and slipping slender fingers under Bakugou’s shirt to grasp at his hips. 


Bakugou gives as good as he gets, reaching up and twisting his fingers into blond locks and tugging. The resulting growl goes straight to his cock. Fuck. Since when did shitty Monoma make noises like that


“Knew you’d be gagging for it,” Monoma rasps, only breaking from the kiss to trail down and sink his teeth into Bakugou’s neck, well above his collar. He can only manage a punched out moan in reply, the back of his head hitting the door with a hollow thunk. “I saw you watching me during class today.” 


“Been fuckin’ teasing me all week , bastard. ‘Course I was watching.” Bakugou barely manages to find his words as Monoma laves his wicked tongue over the imprints of his teeth. Of course he’d want to mark him. Just like the bitch.


“Not just that.” Monoma’s grin splits his face in a way that makes Bakugou shudder, cold grey eyes filled with dark promises. “You liked how I pinned your friend down, didn’t you?” He takes that moment to roll his hips slightly, pressing his thigh between Bakugou’s. “Want someone to hold you down? Fuck the fight out of you?”


Dammit . Bakugou’s cock jerks hard in his pants and he can tell that the asshole pinning him doesn’t miss it. His eyes flick away to some far off corner of the room, unable to look at that downright sinful gaze Monoma has on him. He’s flushed from the tip of his ears to his chest and he wants it so fucking bad it hurts. 


“No response, huh? Too bad, I’m not going to do a goddamn thing you don’t ask for.” And to prove his point Monoma starts to pull away, only to be stopped by Bakugou’s white knuckled grip on his shirt. 


“Fuck… yeah. That-” Shit, Bakugou hates how his voice trembles now. He was supposed to ride this bastard until he tapped out, not roll over and bare his throat at the first hint of dirty talk. 


“Yeah? That? ” Monoma reaches down, palming Bakugou through his pants and he fucking whimpers . He knows he must look a mess, crimson eyes blown wide, cock already fully hard under an expectant grip. “Are you fucking drooling? Shit, I was wrong, you’re a perfect little slut. I’m going to ruin you and you’re going to beg me for it.” He punctuates with a roll of his hips and Bakugou has no hope of stifling his moan, hiding his face in the copy-cunt’s shoulder.


“Uh-uh. None of that.” A rough hand weaves its way into Bakugou’s coarse hair and yanks until his hazy gaze meets the other man’s again. “Don’t you fucking hide from me,” Monoma sneers. “Just look at you, fuck. I’ve barely touched you and you’re shaking, you want it so bad.”


Bakugou’s mouth hangs open, barely lucid as he tugs his hair against Monoma’s grip. “Please.” He can barely hear the plea himself, but judging by the absolutely wicked smile on the bastard’s face, he was heard loud and clear. “Fuck…”


“Oh baby boy,” Bakugou tries hard not to think about how that made his cock twitch. “If I fuck you now there’s no way you’d last, and you haven’t earned it.” He twists his fingers further into coarse blond hair and Bakugou gasps. 


The copy-cunt takes advantage, gently tracing his lips with his thumb before pressing it into his mouth. Bakugou moans, sucking on the offered digit, and it’s Monoma’s turn to gasp as the pad of his thumb catches Bakugou’s teeth. 


“Maybe I’ll just fuck this pretty mouth of yours. Give you something to think about next time you want to start talking shit.” 


“Mmfuck…” Bakugou’s voice is muffled as he pockets Monoma’s thumb in the corner of his mouth. “Please… please,” he gasps as Monoma yanks the corner of his mouth back. It’s a weak hold but Bakugou allows it to pin him to the wall.


“You are just all bark, aren’t you?” Monoma clicks his tongue disapprovingly, pulling his thumb from the wet, inviting heat of Bakugou’s mouth. “Pathetic. I really expected more.”


Something dark curls in Bakugou’s belly, rearing its ugly head in response to a challenge. He plants his palms in the center of the bastard's chest and gives him a hard shove. “ Fuck you.” He stalks after him, practically tearing his shirt off as he goes. “You want more ?” 


Monoma can’t even hide his delighted grin as he shucks his own shirt. “I want you to beg, Katsuki.”


“Too bad. I don’t beg for little bitches like—”




Bakugou clutches his head to shield his eyes from the flash, his ears ringing. What the fuck was that? Distantly he can hear the copycat bastard laughing. Fuck. Did he just—


Monoma seizes Bakugou by the back of his neck, using one foot to kick his knees out from under him. Bakugou hits the floor with a thud, the air rushing out of him as Monoma pins his back to the foot of his bed. He slips one slender hand around his throat, almost perfectly matching what remained of Todoroki’s bruises. 


“Let me remind you who the real bitch is, here.” Monoma hisses when Bakugou’s senses finally return. Fucking bastard. Bakugou grits his teeth and glares up at the cold silver gaze above him. He lashes out, trying to grab a fistful of flaxen hair and yank


But Monoma is somehow faster, snatching Bakugou’s wrist out of the air. He relinquished his hold on his throat to grab his other wrist too, pinning them to the mattress above his head. Switching his wrists into a one handed hold Monoma smirks. “Should have seen the look on your face . Using your quirk to stun was way more fun than I thought it would be.” He seizes Bakugou’s jaw, wrenching it up and clamping his teeth down over the purpling mark he already left below his ear. 


“A-ah!!” Fucking hell. All Bakugou can manage is a choked off sob, all thrashing and struggling ceasing at once as he goes limp under the King of Fighting Dirty. 


“Mm… right there, huh?” Monoma has the audacity to chuckle into his skin, his hot breath making Bakugou’s skin erupt in goosebumps. He can’t take the teasing anymore. The copy-cunt has barely touched his cock and yet he’s ready to fire off like some virgin and fuck, this is not how this was supposed to go . He has to calm down. His breath is starting to get out of control, especially now with Monoma roughly mapping out his chest with his free hand. He pulls on a nipple, scratches down his chest, digs crescent moons into his pectorals until he’s gasping for mercy. “So worked up for me. What do you want, baby boy?” Monoma croons, and the floodgates never stood a chance.


“Your cock,” he gasps as Monoma’s nails rake hard down his belly, leaving angry red trails in their wake. “Fucking shit, Copycat. Want you to- to fuck my mmm—shit!” He pants pathetically, trying to find the words as Monoma’s teeth close over a nipple, fully intent on distracting him. “Fuck! Ohhhh shit shit, please Neito , I want you to fuck my mouth I want it so bad just fucking shut me the fuck up -” He chokes on his words, the threat of tears bubbling in his chest. No. He will not be reduced to tears by Monoma of all people. 


Despite the pricking in Bakugou’s eyes he doesn’t miss the way Monoma’s pupils blow wide. “Shit, Katsuki.” He shakes himself from his reverie, smirking and reaching for the fly of his pants. “Want my cock in your mouth that bad, huh? Want me to shut you up, slut?”


Ohhh fuck. His plan was totally backfiring. “Yeeeess,” he keens, pressing his hips towards any kind of friction. It’s not until Monoma slots his calf in between his thighs that the first tears spill down his face. “Ffffuck... Please just fucking… ah!” The friction is delicious and Katsuki is crying and begging for the steely eyed boy to use him and it’s so so so much. 


And Monoma? He laughs. It’s the best begging performance of his life and all he can hear in response is his cruel dark laughter as he grinds his shin against his cock again, just a shade on the side of too painful. Bakugou wishes he could be angry but all he can do is hold on and beg for more. 


Monoma groans as he finally frees his own cock, pulling it slowly and holding it just out of Bakugou’s reach. The photo didn’t even do it justice. Monoma gave him shit about being worked up, but if the angry red of his cock was any indication, the bastard was just as desperate as he was, but he still holds back, allowing the Bakuho a good long look at his prize.


On his knees, pressed up against the foot of the bed, his head resting on the edge of the mattress, he realizes that Copy-Cunt has set him up perfectly for this. His gut twists. Monoma is about to fuck his face.


“That’s right, you little whore.” He sneers down at Bakugou, whose face is slick with tears and snot. Gross. “I’m gonna shove my cock in that dirty fucking mouth of yours and fuck that stupid look off your face. The only way you’ll get off—” he punctuates with a press of his calf against Bakugou’s cock, “—is if you hump my leg like the pathetic dog you are.” 


“Neito…” he gasps, eyes rolling back and hips bucking against the offered leg desperately. “Fucking… please!” He opens his mouth wide, flattening his tongue hungrily, and fuck, Monoma can’t refuse an invitation like that now, can he? 


He relents, dragging his cock in an experimental slide up Bakugou’s tongue, hissing at the heat. Bakugou takes a deep breath in, preparing himself for the onslaught. His cock throbs in anticipation and he ruts against Monoma’s ankle again. 


“Go on then, bitch,” Monoma rasps, tightening his grip on Bakugou’s wrists and sliding his other hand into his hair. “Suck my cock.”


Bakugou opens wide, taking most of it down hungrily before hitting the back of his throat. He moans quietly at the taste of him, flicking his tongue right up underneath the head. 


“Ah! Yeah…” Monoma growls, long and low. “Just like that. Fuck!” He rocks his hips into that wet heat, being careful to not choke the slut… yet. Bakugou takes another deep breath through his nose and flexes his fingers against Monoma’s grip, catching his attention. Tugging against his iron grip on his hair, Bakugou gives an almost imperceptible nod, and that’s all the permission he needs. 


He rocks his hips deeper into Bakugou’s mouth, grunting as he gags slightly and swallows around him. Slowly, Monoma sinks the rest of his cock into his throat and moans. “Shiiit. You take it so fucking good don’t you?” Bakugou’s inner clockslut preens at the praise, swallowing around the tip of his cock, urging the other man to continue.


Monoma’s hips stutter before plunging deeper, setting a sudden brutal pace. Caught between his hips and the mattress Bakugou can do nothing but focus on not gagging as the slim hips piston that stunning cock between spit slicked lips. 


Bakugou is an absolute mess, tears and drool mixing on his quickly reddening face in a way that is both disgusting and delightful . He feels high. He feels used. He thrusts his hips mindlessly against Monoma’s shin, feeling absolutely fucking filthy, hopelessly lost to chasing the friction.


“Yeah… you like that? Little slut.” Monoma pulls out to let him breathe, allowing his cock to slap an angled cheekbone. “You’ll just take whatever I give you huh?” He can feel Bakugou’s thrusts against his leg increase their pitch, as if in answer, and he takes that as his invitation to plunge back into the inviting wet heat of Bakgou’s throat, relishing in the slightly choked noise that escapes. 


“Just like that, huh? You like it when I use your mouth to jerk off? Shit—” his rhythm stutters at the same time Bakugou’s does, gritting his teeth to keep from shooting without warning. Bakugou doesn’t seem so lucky however. 


With another choked noise, Monoma watches in awe as crimson eyes roll almost all the way back into his head, hips trembling against his leg as he comes in his pants. “Fuuuuuck.” The smirk on his face is nothing short of evil as he plunges his cock deep into Bakugou’s throat, reveling in the tightness as he swallows around his own moans. “Shit, Katsuki… gonna come..!” 


Bakugou’s eyes flutter shut in euphoria, moaning around the cock in his throat, and that’s what does it. Thrusting another once, twice, three times, Monoma presses his hips flush to the reddened face below him and comes deep .


Bakugou chokes, his chest heaving with the effort, but swallows everything he’s given. And when Monoma pulls out, releasing his hair and wrists, Bakugou slumps back against the bed, going completely boneless with a wet cough. 


When he looks up, Monoma is gone, but he hears running water somewhere. Within seconds, those grey eyes are back in view, though significantly less cold. 


He closes the distance, sitting down next to Katsuki and slinging an awkward arm around his shoulders as he passes a glass of water over. Too tired to bite the hand that feeds him, Bakugou leans into the touch, resting his head on a pale shoulder. The other man raises a wet washcloth he didn’t know he’d been holding and wipes the mess from his face in a way that Katsuki would describe as tender if he didn’t know any better.


The two sit in silence for a while, Bakugou occasionally drinking clearing his throat and Monoma rubbing soothing circles into his back until, almost simultaneously, the two become sick of their newfound intimacy, pulling away from each other to find their discarded shirts. 


Bakugou winces, the feeling of cooling come in his pants none too comfortable. He’ll have to take care of that as soon as he gets back to his dorm, but first—


“Oi, Copycat.” He clears his throat again, voice way rougher than normal.


“Yes, Bakuho?” Monoma looks pretty fucking pleased with himself at that, so Bakugou doesn’t even feel a bit bad when his fist connects squarely over Monoma’s eye socket. “ Fuck!! What the hell was that for!?” He demands, still glaring menacingly with one hand cupped over his eye.


“For thinking you of all people could fuck the fight out of me.” Bakugou retorts, giving him another shove before heading to the door. “Better luck next time.” 


Monoma, for his usual lack of humor, actually finds it in himself to laugh. “Yeah, sure. Next time.” 


Bakugou slams the door behind him, stomping back to his own dorm, glaring down any knowing glances sent his way, and when he finally gets to his room and accomplishes a change of pants he pulls out his phone.


Edit: Just as much of a prick as you’d think.