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Stupid, useless Deku! You know they'll never let a quirkless loser like you be a hero, right? Just give up already!
The words echo in his head as Izuku trudges home from school. His eyes burn with tears, but it's nothing Kacchan hasn't said before. Mostly, Izuku is just tired.
"Stupid Kacchan," he mutters to himself. He grips the straps of his backpack tighter as he passes through a thicker crowd of people at the crosswalk. "Why does he have to be so mean about it? I know I'm quirkless and there aren't any quirkless heroes! That just means I have to be the first!"
A heavy sigh falls from his lips as he goes back to his thoughts of earlier that day, before they drift to older memories. Happier memories, when he and Kacchan chased each other instead of just Izuku running after an increasingly distant back.
"I just wish Kacchan liked me again," he murmurs softly, tears finally spilling over. "Is it so bad to want a Kacchan that wants me too?"
His shoulder collides with another body, and Izuku reflexively sputters apologies. A shock of electricity passes between them, but the other person doesn't slow down, so Izuku continues his trek home. He turns his thoughts to deconstructing the strategies some heroes used in a recent villain fight, already making notes on improvements and tweaks and things that could have been done differently.
No use dwelling on what ifs and if onlys, after all.
Izuku stirs awake in the middle of the night, blinking his heavy eyes open to darkness. The memory of his dream lingers, and he hums softly as he reaches down to rub his fingers over his crotch, feeling the damp patch on his underwear where he'd gotten wet from the things happening in his dream.
He recalls red eyes unable to look away from him and hot hands touching him everywhere, along his arms and over his chest, but mostly between his thighs to keep them spread apart while a smirking mouth kissed him on the lips not on his face.
Beautiful, Izuku, the Kacchan in his dream had purred, and Izuku whines now as he presses his fingers to his clit through his underwear, rubbing at it faster as the arousal that had started pooling within him during his dream builds hotter and hotter.
"Kacchan," he pants, hips moving into his touch. He's so close. "Kacchan, please, please—"
"Beautiful, Izuku," a deep, husky voice murmurs, and Izuku gasps as a large, hot hand joins his between his legs, eyes flying open as his chest clenches with panicked adrenaline.
"What—ahn!"
His exclamation cuts off on a long moan as his orgasm hits him hard and sudden, head tipping back and his eyes rolling up as pleasure courses through him. He bucks his hips into the hand working his clit in tight, fast circles, drawing it out until he whimpers in oversensitivity and pushes weakly against the relentless fingers.
"S-Stop, stop, please—too much, too much!"
The hand stops but doesn't pull away, simply resting against his pussy over his underwear. Izuku heaves in deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart as he comes down from the high. He blinks a few tears from his eyes as warm lips press to his temple, and he suddenly remembers—
There's someone in his room!
"You're always so pretty when you cum, 'Zu," the someone says, and the voice sounds painfully familiar, even though Izuku is sure he's never heard it before. At least, not quite that deep...
"K-Kacchan?" he asks, voice small and careful. The scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke surrounds him, and a spicy kind of cologne he's only ever known one person to wear. He can't see very well in the dark of his room, but he's too nervous to reach out for his bedside lamp.
As if reading his mind, his bedside lamp flickers on, and Izuku blinks spots out of his eyes until Kacchan's face comes into focus—and then a second one, similar but distinctly different, and neither of them quite his Kacchan.
For one thing, they're both obviously not middle schoolers. Still unfairly handsome, but more mature, with harder lines instead of round with baby fat. One has strange markings on his face and has an aura of... wildness to him that Izuku doesn't quite know what to make of, but makes him no less attractive. The other feels... familiar, even beyond the fact that he's Kacchan. Like he is actually Izuku's Kacchan, just... older.
Both of them, however, are gazing down at Izuku with soft expressions he's not used to seeing on this unfamiliar-familiar face, mouths curled up in grins that he can only call fond. It sets his heart stuttering and his pussy clenching.
The grin on wild-Kacchan's face morphs into something sharper, more smirk-like, and Izuku realizes belatedly it's his hand still between his legs, absently rubbing over his cunt.
"Always so hungry," he murmurs, pressing hard into Izuku's clit and making him squeal out a whimper. "So desperate."
"What—What's going on?" Izuku manages, looking between both Kacchans. "Why are—"
Older-Kacchan shrugs, one of his big hands running in soothing strokes up Izuku's side. "I'm gonna guess a quirk accident. You run into anyone today?"
Izuku thinks back to earlier that day, when he'd gotten shoulder-checked by that pedestrian and felt a shock run through him. Now that he thinks about it, it was a little stronger than simple static electricity. "Oh, um. Y-Yeah, I guess I did. But still, how would it have brought you both here? All we did was brush shoulders."
Older-Kacchan looks at him. "What were you thinking at the time?"
Izuku blinks. "I was thinking—"
Is it so bad to want a Kacchan that wants me too?
His cheeks burst into flames when he remembers what he'd been muttering to himself, his chest tightening with the ache of longing. Did such an off-hand comment really bring him not one, but two Kacchans that want him?
Tears burn in the corners of his eyes. Izuku takes in a shuddering breath, and then suddenly he's pulled upwards and into the extremely warm embrace of a strong set of arms. Arms he's wished would hold him just like this, instead of pushing him away for years now.
"I-I wanted a Kacchan that w-wanted me too," he blubbers into Older-Kacchan's chest. "M-My Kacchan h-hates me, and I-I just—"
"Listen to me, 'Zu," Older-Kacchan murmurs. He pushes him back and takes Izuku's chin between his fingers to hold his head still, preventing him from looking away from those burning red eyes. "That little shitstain doesn't hate you. He's got a lot of shit to work through, and it takes him while, but I promise he fuckin' adores you."
A genuine smile pulls up older-Kacchan's face, one Izuku hasn't seen since they were kids, before quirks and quirklessness and bullying and the strained tension their relationship has become. His eyes move to wild-Kacchan who has pressed up against Izuku's back, caging him between them both, before settling back on Izuku.
"In fact, I'd hazard a guess there ain't a Katsuki Bakugou in this world or any other that ain't ass over tits in love with his Izuku Midoriya—or any others."
"We are all the same soul," wild-Kacchan says, his voice vibrating in a deep timbre against Izuku's back and causing him to shiver. "Our love transcends universes. Your own Katsuki loves you just as we do, because he is us and we are him. And you are ours."
Another pulse of arousal has his pussy throbbing, and Izuku bites his lip when big, hot hands wrap around his hips before dipping down toward his crotch. They pull his panties aside, thick fingers rough with callouses dragging over his puffy, slick-covered pussylips until they suddenly slip between and push into him, right down to the knuckle.
"Ahn!" Izuku trembles as those fingers pump in and out of him while a big thumb rubs his clit, hips grinding into the motions while older-Kacchan's mouth kisses over his jaw, nipping and sucking bruises into his skin and biting gently at his cheeks. "Please, please, Kacchan, Kacchan! Fuck, please, please—"
"Gods, he's so fucking tight," wild-Kacchan rasps, and Izuku hazily thinks he feels more like a Katsuki, where older-Kacchan in front of him is, well, Kacchan. "He's still a virgin, isn't he?"
"At this age? Definitely," Kacchan agrees, finally taking Izuku's mouth properly in the deepest, filthiest first kiss he thinks has ever been stolen.
Izuku mewls into him, melting at the warm smell of cinnamon and woodsmoke and the sweet scent of nitroglycerin wafting from him the more he sweats. He grasps at Kacchan's shirt, pulling him closer and letting him lick into his mouth with a contented sound as he continues to ride Katsuki's fingers. He feels overwhelmed with heat and desire, the familiar coil of pleasure in his gut winding tighter and tighter until he feels like he's about to burst.
"K-Kacchan," he pants, "I'm gonna— I'm gonna cum, please, I wanna cum!"
"Cum for us, then," Kacchan says against his mouth, thrusting his hips up and grinding his very obvious and thick erection into Izuku. "C'mon, sweetheart, let go for us."
Hearing Kacchan call him sweetheart in his low, rough voice, full of tender affection and desperate lust of his own, sends a bolt of electric pleasure shooting through Izuku's body. The coil inside him abruptly snaps, and Izuku lets out the lewdest moan he's ever heard himself make as he cums harder than he ever has, shaking through the aftershocks as Kacchan stuffs his mouth with his fingers to quiet him and Katsuki keeps thrusting his fingers into his pussy hard and quick to draw out his orgasm.
Izuku sucks automatically on Kacchan's fingers as he comes down from the endorphin high, eyes lidded and a hazy feeling coming over him as he watches Kacchan look at him with needy hunger. He drags his tongue along the digits, tasting sweet nitroglycerin and sweat, and a tingle runs up his spine at the harsh curse Kacchan bites out. He thrusts his fingers farther into Izuku's mouth, and Izuku chokes a bit when they push at the back of his throat, but he doesn't let it deter him. There are a couple of toys hidden under his bed that he uses exactly like this when his horniness can't be sated only in his pussy, so he just forces himself to relax and take it .
"Fuck, look at you," Kacchan rasps, eyes dark, pupils blown in arousal. "Always thought this motormouth was meant for suckin' cock, even back in middle school. Dreamed about it every goddamn night after jerkin' off to the thought of you on your knees for me. Never will forgive myself for being too emotionally constipated to do anything about it."
"He does look pretty on his knees," Katsuki agrees, finally pulling his fingers from Izuku's cunt. His hands settle on Izuku's hips, and Izuku hums around the fingers in his mouth when another thick cock presses against his backside, grinding into his ass. "From in front and behind."
Kacchan's smirk turns downright predatory. "You wanna fuck his cunt while I fuck his face? Fill him up from both ends like he deserves?"
Izuku whines in need when the fingers are pulled from his mouth, the spit string connecting them breaking as he pants. A different hand takes his chin and turns his face to the side so Katsuki can steal a kiss of his own, and Izuku melts into it just as he had Kacchan's kiss.
"Let's show our star how loved he is."
And that is how Izuku finds himself on his hands and knees between the two as Kacchan feeds his cock into Izuku's mouth while Katsuki slowly, carefully works his own into Izuku's pussy. He's absolutely dripping slick from a brief bout of Katsuki eating him out to get him loose and open, thighs soaked and a small puddle forming beneath him as that thick, hard, hot cock slides into him, splitting him open wider than he's ever been before. He whines around the cock stuffed into his throat at the stretch, his crotch aching but the pain only intensifying his pleasure.
Warm, rough fingers play with his clit, rubbing it in tight circles to help distract him while others pet at his face, stroking over his cheeks and thumbing away the tears leaking from his eyes as his lips are stretched just as wide. The taste of Kacchan's sweet precum on his tongue is addictive, and he swallows around his cock as best he can, tracing it with his tongue and grazing it—ever so carefully—with his teeth. It earns him punched out groans and Kacchan thrusting just that much deeper, cockhead hitting the back of his throat and making him gag, throat convulsing and tightening around him.
"Just like that, baby boy," Kacchan says, hand tangled in Izuku's curls. His other hand holds Izuku's jaw, and Izuku manages to look up at him through his lashes. He looks as wrecked as Izuku feels, and that sends a bolt of satisfaction warming his gut. "Fuck, look at you. So fuckin' perfect, 'Zu."
"You take us so well, beautiful," Katsuki purrs, leaning over Izuku. "Fit me like a fucking glove, you're so tight. No other cock will ever fuck you so good."
Izuku hazily thinks, I don't want another cock but Kacchan's, and that's the last coherent thought he remembers having for a while.
He whimpers as Katsuki pushes the last inches of his length inside his cunt, bottoming out with a soft clap of their skin. His hands run up Izuku's sides in soothing caresses, pushing up his shirt as he reaches Izuku's nipples. None of them had undressed; they'd just moved fabric out of the way until they could free their cocks and expose Izuku's pussy, and that was even hotter to Izuku than being fully naked, somehow.
They give him a moment to get used to being stuffed at both ends, and Izuku moans at the feeling of fullness, both in his throat and his guts. His body burns with pleasure, and he suddenly just wants to be used.
And like they can read his mind, Kacchan and Katsuki pull their cocks out of him, until just their cockheads remain inside him. Then fuck back in simultaneously, and Izuku is gone.
They set a steady, hard pace, Katsuki's hands burning brands into his hips as he tugs Izuku into his thrusts while Kacchan's hand tightens in his hair, pulling at his scalp until it stings as he uses Izuku's throat to stroke his cock. The only noises Izuku can make are pathetic, choked moans each time Kacchan's pelvis meets his lips, his balls clipping his chin as his cock is pushed in all the way to the root. Drool leaks from the corners of his mouth, mixed with precum and the tears still tracking down his face, making a sticky mess of him.
His pussy feels similar, slick and precum covering his thighs as Katsuki uses him like a living fleshlight. The size of his cock means he presses against Izuku's g-spot on each thrust, lighting up his nerves with pleasure. His gut tightens with his building orgasm, eyes rolling back in his head as his clit is played with, and he feels wired up, feels full and stuffed and ready to explode—
"Little slut is gonna cum on our cocks," Kacchan grunts, fucking into Izuku's mouth even faster, the pace of his thrusts increasing. "You gonna squirt for us, baby? Gonna make a mess and cover yourself with your juices?"
"Fuck, he got tight at that," Katsuki huffs, sounding amused. The fingers of one of his hands pinch and tweak at one of Izuku's nipples while the other pinches at his clit, bullying it to make Izuku whine and squeal around the cock in his mouth. "Does our beautiful little star like making messes?"
Izuku nods as best he can around his mouthful, tears still pouring down his cheeks. God, he wants to cum so bad, wants to squirt on the thick, fat cock fucking his pussy into an open gape while it pumps him full of hot cum. He hasn't squirted in his masturbatory endeavors yet, but he wants to, for his Kacchans.
The familiar coil in his gut tightens and builds, and he knows he's close, so close . He can't stop the mewling, whimpering noises spilling from him as best they can with his throat stuffed, and he sucks more enthusiastically at Kacchan's cock, begging for more and harder and make me cum—
Kacchan laughs. He pulls Izuku's hair, hips working at a frantic pace. "That's a yes if I've ever seen one. C'mon then, baby boy. Make that pussy squirt for us. Milk his cock while I paint your pretty freckles with my cum so everyone knows you're mine."
The heat in his voice, the raw possessiveness, the idea of belonging to Kacchan—it all makes Izuku hot and desperate and aching for it, and his orgasm slams into him without warning for a third time that night.
He locks up for a heartbeat before convulsing through wave after wave of ecstasy, and the tight knot inside him releases suddenly in a spectacular burst that has him doing as bid and squirting around the cock still pistoning in and out of his poor, abused cunt. His eyes roll up, and he shivers as the fingers on his clit fly against it in frantic rubbing, and with each pulse and throb of his pussy he sprays more slick and juices out onto his bedspread.
"Fuck, fuck, little star," Katsuki gasps behind him, sounding rough and wrecked, "so fucking good, you're fucking squeezing me, fuck— Here it comes, gonna fill this pretty pussy with my seed. Take it, Izuku, take it—"
Izuku shudders as heat fills him, Katsuki's cock pressed as deep as he can get it while he pumps Izuku full. His mind is lost to the haze of euphoria, and he barely notices as Kacchan pulls his cock from his mouth, gasping in deep, wet breaths with his throat empty. He watches through lidded, tired eyes as Kacchan strokes his cock in jerky motions, red eyes trained on Izuku's face.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, open that pretty mouth, baby, gonna cum on those cocksucking lips," Kacchan demands, and Izuku obediently opens his mouth just as Kacchan reaches his own release. "Fuck! "
Hot, thick ropes of cum streak over Izuku's face as that thick cock throbs in pulses, hitting him in the eye and up to his hairline, dripping down over his nose and cheeks. Much of it lands on his tongue as Kacchan rests the tip on his bottom lip, milking the last of it into his mouth.
"That's it," he sighs, his other hand reaching out to smear his cum into Izuku's skin. "God, you look so fuckin' hot like this. Like my proper little cumslut."
Izuku hums in agreement at the degrading term; it sounds affectionate coming from Kacchan, and he'll happily be Kacchan's cumslut as long as he wants Izuku to be.
He wants to be his own Kacchan's cumslut too, he thinks absently, with a gentle pang in his chest as both Kacchan and Katsuki pull out and away, carefully and delicately resituating him between them so he's cocooned in their arms.
Warm hands stroke over his body and pet through his hair, and Izuku lets himself go boneless and pliant in their safe, comforting embrace. He's absolutely exhausted after three orgasms, and his eyes fall closed, too heavy to keep open.
Featherlight kisses are peppered over his cheeks from two mouths, and Izuku feels himself smiling despite his fatigue.
"It gets better," Kacchan tells him after a long moment of peaceful quiet, kissing his temple. "Just... don't give up on me, okay?"
"Of course not," he immediately says, slurring the words but meaning them vehemently. The idea that Izuku could ever give up on Kacchan, even with how awful things have become, makes him physically recoil. Kacchan is amazing, and Izuku has always believed they'd find their way back to being friends again someday—or even more.
It's nice having a little bit of proof, though, to hold onto.
"Sleep well, little star," Katsuki murmurs into his ear. "And know you're more than loved."
Izuku does just that, falling asleep between two bearers of the other half of his heart and wishing it was just the one he knows.
Izuku manages to make it to class with half a minute to spare, panting from the sprint he'd had to make to get there on time.
Apparently, those three mind-blowing orgasms were not just a very detailed wet dream, and they absolutely wiped him out to the point he ignored his alarm and his mom had to come in and drag him out of bed.
He can tell his cheeks are red from how warm they are, and he ducks his head and hides in his notebooks to avoid the judgmental sneers of his classmates for coming in right at the last minute. His one saving grace is that most of the lovebites dotting his skin are all covered by the high collar of his gakuran.
Hickies, his brain whispers in mortification. Hickies that Kacchan gave you. An older, hotter Kacchan and his alternate universe double that fucked you like a whore—
Nope! Not going there.
The memory of last night is a double-edged sword. It warms him with pleasure and arousal just as much as it sets his heart to aching and his chest tightening, because despite their reassurances, those Kacchans weren't his Kacchan.
His Kacchan wouldn't be caught dead holding Izuku in his arms. His Kacchan would never call him sweet things and tell him he's loved. His Kacchan—
Izuku jumps as a hand comes down on his desk in a loud crack, and he looks up into glaring red eyes and a familiar, disgusted sneer.
—is just as grumpy as ever, it seems.
"You look like shit," Kacchan tells him, unkindly. His eyes dart over Izuku's face, no doubt making note of the dark circles under his eyes from the little sleep he'd managed after his... activities. The sneer becomes more pronounced. "Stay up late with your creep notebooks wishing for a quirk again, Deku?"
His shoulders hunch up at the way Kacchan wraps that awful nickname in such vitriol. He thinks about the soft way Katsuki had said Izuku, and the sweet playfulness in older-Kacchan's 'Zu, and wishes this Kacchan would call him those things with affection, too.
"S-Something like that," he finally mutters, avoiding Kacchan's piercing stare.
Not like he can tell him the truth, but he's also bad at lying, especially to Kacchan's face, and Kacchan, despite everything, can read him like an open book when he wants to.
A quirk-heated fist grips his collar, yanking him forward. Izuku yelps and brings his hands up, whether to push Kacchan back or cover his face to deter an explosion, he's not sure. It doesn't seem to matter anyway, since Kacchan has halted in place, eyes trained just beneath Izuku's face, zeroing in on—
Ah, fuck.
"Is that a fucking hickie?" he whispers hotly, still looking at Izuku's neck, leaning in to see it closer. His brows are furrowed, gaze still intense, but something in his expression seems... off, Izuku thinks. He can't place it, though.
"Ah—Um! Uh."
Kacchan stares a bit more, then seems to realize he's practically pressing his face into Izuku's neck and shoves him back abruptly. He shoves his hands in his pockets as Izuku rights himself in his chair, still looking up at him with apprehension tinged with curiosity. The sneer is back, but it doesn't sit quite right anymore.
"Who the fuck would be giving a quirkless nerd like you hickies?" he seethes. He's a little red in the face now, and he's not meeting Izuku's gaze anymore. His voice is low, like he's trying not to bring attention to them. Like he doesn't want anyone to know someone is giving Izuku lovebites but wants to know who.
Like he's jealous of whoever it was that gave them to Izuku.
He's got a lot of shit to work through, and it takes him while, but I promise he fuckin' adores you.
There ain't a Katsuki Bakugou in this world or any other that ain't ass over tits in love with Izuku Midoriya.
Just... don't give up on me, okay?
Oh.
Maybe... Maybe older-Kacchan was right, after all.
In a moment of boldness, Izuku meets Kacchan's eyes from under his lashes, hands fiddling with his notebooks, but maintaining eye contact when he murmurs, with a hefty amount of pointed knowing, "Why don't you tell me, Kacchan?"
Kacchan stares at him for a long moment, mouth slightly open. Then their teacher comes in and tells everyone to take their seats, and his mouth snaps closed. He gives Izuku one last unreadable look before stomping back to his seat without a word, and Izuku lets out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and slumps in his own seat.
Well, that was... certainly something.
For the rest of the day, Kacchan leaves him alone, not a single scathing remark or demeaning taunt throughout their classes. It's a little disturbing, but mostly Izuku is glad. He keeps his head down as usual, enjoying the reprieve, though he can feel those piercing eyes burning holes in the back of his neck the entire time.
When the last bell of the day rings, Izuku gathers his things and waits for the classroom to clear before leaving himself. The halls are also mostly clear now, and he makes his way to the front, humming softly.
It doesn't quite surprise him when a body pushes him up against a wall before he makes it to his shoe locker, but Izuku still yelps and reflexively goes to protect his face, bringing his arms up to his head.
"Eep! Please, I just want to go home!"
Hot hands settle on his hips, and Izuku sucks in a breath, head shooting up to look into burning red eyes glaring at him with anger and... something else.
Something heated, that makes a tiny shiver of arousal tickle up his spine.
"Who gave you those fucking hickies, Izuku," Kacchan says, low and dangerous. He leans in close, and Izuku can smell cinnamon and woodsmoke along with sweet nitroglycerin.
The sound of his name—his actual name—in Kacchan's voice has him biting back a whimper. His pussy clenches, and he feels slick starting to dampen his underwear. Swallowing thickly, Izuku lets his hands slowly come to rest on Kacchan's shoulders, not nearly as broad as the ones he'd been held against last night.
But they will be, he thinks.
"I-I told you, Kacchan," he says softly, meeting those red eyes, before his gaze drops to Kacchan's mouth, "you tell me."
Kacchan growls, and Izuku closes his eyes, bracing for the collision.