Chapter Text
Katsuki could maybe—under extreme duress—admit that Todoroki Shouto was a pretty decent friend.
Sure he was blunt, and brutally honest, but Katsuki actually liked that about him. There were too many fake motherfuckers who kissed ass and minced words, hoping to get on Katsuki’s good side.
At least Shouto wasn’t fake, and he’d stopped holding back during spars, not that Katsuki would ever let him live down the first year sport’s festival.
But if Katsuki had learned one thing over the past three years, it was that in order to befriend Shouto, there were certain rules that you needed to abide by.
Namely, never invite the guy over to your fucking house.
Now it’s not like he would willingly want to hang out with the fucker outside of Yuuei, but maybe Shouto wasn’t so annoying that when Katsuki’s parents told him he couldn’t have a sleepover with just Deku, he didn’t actually mind inviting half-and-half along.
It really wouldn’t have been his first choice, but no amount of negotiating—and by negotiating he meant yelling—was going to convince the old hag that he and his boyfriend could share a bed by themselves.
At first things seemed fine, more than fine actually.
It was around two in the morning when Shouto silently snuck out of Katsuki’s bedroom. They hadn’t even had to drop that many hints that he should give them some privacy.
Katsuki could have kissed the fucker. Well almost, he’d rather be getting to work fucking his boyfriend into the mattress.
“ Fuck Kacchan,” Deku shuddered against his touch, fisting sheets with white knuckles as Katsuki added a third finger. “He could come back…“
“Nah, Halfie’s too smart for that. He knows to let me have my way with you.“
Deku moaned long and low as Katsuki curled his fingers, pressing against his prostate—rubbing small circles directly against the bundle of nerves. He was opening up so well, taking it like he was made to have his tiny little hole stuffed full.
Katsuki wanted to wreck him, to fuck him so thoroughly he was a shaking, drooling mess who didn’t even know his own name. He pulled his fingers out, ignoring his boyfriend’s whines in favor of coating his throbbing cock with lube.
He pressed the leaking head to Deku’s pretty pink rim, teasing the puckered ring of muscle by sliding against it, not quite pushing in.
“Ahh, Kacchan, please…”
He was trying to fuck his hips back, almost succeeding in sucking him in, but Katsuki helped him along, slamming his hips forward with enough force that Deku’s arms gave out, he ass still raised in the air for Katsuki to use.
He roughly fisted green curls, pressing Deku’s face into the mattress and railing him with abandon. The thick blankets muffled his moans and cries, and Katsuki maintained the relentless pace, even as he felt his boyfriend’s tiny hole tighten and pulse.
Once Deku’s orgasm was through, Katsuki pulled out, flipping him onto his back and sliding back in. He sucked one of Deku’s pert nipples into his mouth, grinding his hips before sinking teeth deep into his skin. Scarred hands fisted blond spikes and Deku yelped at the combined sensations.
Katsuki released his nipple, sucking a purple mark beside the fresh bite before moving to the other, leaving hickies and teeth imprints as he went.
They both got lost in the sensations, sliding together for what felt like hours but was realistically only twenty minutes or so.
Every nerve felt like it was on fire, nitroglycerin dripping from his palms and soaking the sheets. Deku’s body was strung like a bow, his impossibly tight ass sucking Katsuki in with each thrust.
The sensations were endless—a hand in his hair, blunt nails at his back, teeth and lips and cocks. The pressure in his core built to an extreme, a coil so compressed that it threatened to release or shatter at any moment.
Deku was sobbing into his neck, holding on as if he would float away otherwise, and Katsuki snapped his hips forward once, twice, three more times before he was pumping his boyfriend full. Deku shuttered and moaned, body milking every drop from Katsuki’s throbbing cock.
It was never ending, and Katsuki tried to suck in air, his vision going blurry at the edges, mind fuzzy and body spent. He didn’t even realize he had passed the fuck out till he looked over at the clock that read 4:36 am.
He pushed himself up from Deku’s chest. It seemed neither of them had moved from that same spot. He could feel the wetness between Deku’s thighs and he rubbed his eyes, trying to work out what had woken him.
“Oh fuck, daddy…”
Katsuki’s brows came together in confusion at the quiet, almost muffled voice, looking up through blond lashes toward Deku’s sleeping face.
Was the nerd talking in his sleep? He shook him lightly, watching him rouse.
“‘D’you say somethin?”
Emerald eyes blink sleepily down at him. “I didn’t say anything, Kacchan. ‘S late, let’s go back to bed.”
“Huh, maybe I was imagining—“
“Daddy…”
There it was again, breathless and needy and verging on a whine.
“What the fuck?”
Katsuki vaulted up from the bed, followed closely by his sleepy boyfriend. They both threw on some shorts, Deku also grabbing a shirt to cover the smattering of purple marks across his muscled chest.
He had to have been hearing things. Katsuki opened his door, stilling in the hall and shushing Deku as he tried to listen.
The house was silent, the only available light filtering in from the windows to paint the house in a deep blue glow.
“Shh, don’t cry baby. I’m proud of you, you’re doing so well.”
The quiet yet distinct voice of his father almost caused Katsuki to storm down the stairs, but the choked gasp that followed it made him pause.
Wait, is the old man watching porn or some shit? Fucking gross! The hag isn’t even gone for a full day and he’s—
“Shit, I’m so close daddy, say it again…”
No. No way.
There was the telltale slapping sound of skin, and Katsuki felt his eyes widen in a combination of disbelief and horror.
“Oh baby, I’m proud of you for taking me so well, such a needy boy for daddy.”
The slapping sounds got louder and closer together, wet squelching mixed with gasps and moans and half-formed shouts.
“Yeah daddy, I’m your needy boy, let me come on your cock—I’ve been so good daddy, please!”
“Of course you can baby, so so good for me.”
“OH FUCK RIGHT OFF WITH THIS BULLSHIT!”
Katsuki stomped his way down the hallway and stairs, making as much noise as possible. Deku was panicking and muttering something about going back to the room, but Katsuki was already barging into the living room and flipping on the lights, his palms crackling as he went.
“Whatever kind of prank this is isn’t fucking funny so just—“
It was not a fucking prank.
Slutty-fucking-roki was panting, his pale skin glistening with sweat and devoid of any clothing. His long hair was a tangled mess, his toned thighs trembling from the effort of bouncing on the couch. But that wasn’t the worst of it.
No, the worst of it, was whose hand was currently tangled in that messy hair and whose shitty fucking dad bod was sitting between Halfie and the now contaminated sofa.
“What the fuck? WHAT THE LITERAL FUCKING FUCK!?”
[2 hours earlier]
“I can’t wait till after graduation Kacchan! We can have all of the sleepovers we want when we have our own place…”
“Fucking hell, me neither. But then it’ll just be you and me.”
Katsuki’s tone was thick with innuendo, and he shot Shouto a meaningful look.
Shouto sighed heavily, trying to stare a hole through the ceiling. So that made five comments in the last hour that were subtly meant to say ‘ get the fuck out, we want to smash.’
He took a look at his phone, noticing the time. It was nearing two in the morning and all Shouto wanted to do was fucking sleep , goddamit. But if the wonder duo were going to spend the next several hours dropping hints, then he could take a fucking hint.
Shouto got out of the nest of blankets on the floor without a word, quietly opening the door to go down the hall to the stairs. There was a large couch in the living room that they had watched a movie on earlier, so he already knew it was comfortable.
“Can’t sleep?”
Shouto startled, spinning on the top step and losing his balance at the soft voice.
This was it—his end would be brought about by some mysterious disembodied voice and they’d have to put it on his headstone instead of his true wish of ‘death by choking on cock’
“I’ve got you.”
Before he could fall completely, strong arms were wrapping around him, holding him steady in an embrace that could almost be considered a hug. It was warm and steady and jarring to go from feeling sheer panic to feeling so safe and secure.
Regrettably, the arms left him and Shouto turned slowly, trying to blow the tangle of red and white out of his eyes.
There was a soft chuckle and the hands were back, this time gently brushing the hair out of his face to tuck behind his ears.
“M-Mr. Bakugou—“
“Please, call me Masaru.” He bowed slightly, his smile soft. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Shouto felt heat through his cheeks and he blinked dumbly at Katsuki’s father, stuttering out something that he hoped was coherent.
“I feel terrible that I don’t know how to address you, my son seems to refer to you as anything other than your given name.”
“Shouto! I-I mean, I’m Todoroki. Well, Shouto is my name but also Todoroki! But you can call me Shouto if you'd like...”
Jesus Shouto shut your mouth before you make an even bigger embarrassment of yourself!
“Shouto then, I’m sorry for before. Can I make you some tea as an apology? Or maybe it’s too late for that, perhaps some hot cocoa?”
I’d drink down absolutely anything you gave me, daddy.
“Hot cocoa would be fine.”
Shouto hoped his voice didn’t betray how flustered he was. He followed Masaru down the stairs without further incident and into the dimly lit kitchen. He took up residence on a stool at the raised island to watch as Masaru brought milk to a low simmer. His deft fingers went to work chopping a bar of rich dark chocolate and Shouto found himself watching, imagining what else those expert hands were capable of.
“So is it that you can’t sleep, or did your friends kick you out for some alone time.”
Shouto was pulled from his dirtier thoughts, looking up into his warm eyes and breathing out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you what they’re up to.”
Masaru laughed, sliding the chocolate from the cutting board. “I was young and in love once. Mitsuki can be intense, and she’d have our Katsuki on a leash if she knew, but passion is passion.” He was back to donning that soothing smile, his laid back aura all but drawing Shouto in like a siren song.
“Some things just can’t be helped, now can they Shouto?”
“No sir, they can’t.” Shouto swallowed visibly, talking the mug offered to him without breaking eye contact. He went to take a drink of the sweet concoction, bringing it to his lips without thought.
“Wait, you’ll burn yourself!” Masaru rounded the counter quickly, yanking the mug away from his mouth as Shouto blinked dumbly. He set the cup down quickly, pulling his glasses off and cupping Shouto’s face.
Masaru was so close, concerned eyes scanning his mouth for traces of injury. His lips were parted slightly and Shouto berated himself mentally for the urge to lean forward and kiss him. It would be so easy, really. All it would take would be to cross the few inches between them.
Shouto could barely fathom how someone like Masaru could exist. He had no concept of a caring father, one who stayed up late to make hot cocoa and who showed so much concern for what would have only been a minor burn— were Shouto capable of even being burned by such a thing.
Masaru apparently realized how close they’d drifted, because he pulled his hands away from Shouto’s face quickly, opening his mouth to no doubt apologize.
But why should he have to apologize? What reason at all could this shining manifestation of fatherly affection have to seek forgiveness from a broken boy who’d never known anything other than pain and abuse?
It was a travesty really, that he thought it was necessary, and Shouto took it upon himself to put an end to the coming apology, curling his hands into Masaru’s shirt and pulling him into a forceful kiss.
He gasped at the suddenness and Shouto leaned in further, pouring every bit of gratitude and appreciation and desire into the kiss as he slid his tongue into Masaru’s mouth.
Were it an ideal situation, Masaru would press back into the kiss, move his lips and tongue in time with Shouto. But reality was often not ideal, and he remained stiff as a board even when Shouto finally pulled away with a breathless hum.
Shouto blinked open mismatched eyes, taking in Masaru’s look of shock.
Oh god, oh no, what did I just do!?
He was done for, that was all there was to it. Masaru would kick him out of his house and tell Katsuki.
It wasn’t really even the idea of being labeled a home wrecker that got to him—after all, if someone was willing to cheat on their spouse, didn’t the fault lie with them?
It was more the simple act of rejection. Shouto had been various states of unwanted his entire life, but Masaru was kind and soft and radiated the calming warmth of a plush blanket rather than the searing flames that licked at his skin around his own father.
Needless to say, Masaru was the exact opposite of Todoroki Enji, and Shouto would be irreversibly torn apart if—
“I’ve wanted you since the second you stepped into my house.”
Wait, what?
Masaru reached back toward his face, lightly stroking Shouto’s cheek with the back of those deft fingers. His touch was gentle, reverent almost. Shouto found himself searching Masaru’s face, looking for some sort of truth to the words.
Warm umber eyes bore into his in the low light, holding so much quiet hunger that it sent an excited tingle down Shouto’s spine.
“Stunning.”
Shouto felt his breath hitch at the whispered praise.
Masaru leaned in closer, sliding his fingers into crimson hair and pressing a light kiss to his left cheek. Shouto was sure his entire face was red, and he breathed deeply the subtle scent of spearmint.
“I-I’m really not…”
“Helen of Troy could not have been half so beautiful.”
Oh I am going to ride this man to within an inch of my life.
Shouto lunged for him again, whining into his mouth as the hand in his hair tightened. It wasn’t enough to be painful, but the still somehow gentle want that Masaru conveyed was enough to have Shouto’s head spinning.
He opened his legs to allow Masaru to slot between them. The kiss deepened and Shouto grabbed the counter, accidentally knocking over the hot chocolate as he wrapped his legs around Masaru’s hips.
Shouto gasped at the feeling of being picked up, hooking his ankles together and burying his face into his warm neck. Masaru brought him to the living room, sitting down so that Shouto could stay in his lap.
He licked a stripe from his neck to his ear, delighting in the way Masaru’s breath came out in a shaky rush. “Please let me ride your cock.”
Masaru made a sound like he’d been punched in the stomach and Shouto pulled back, blinking at him and panting still.
Heavy-lidded brown eyes were trailing over his face, down to his chest, and Shouto decided to give him more of a show, sliding his thin t-shirt off in one fluid motion. The heated look was enough to bolster his confidence for the time being, and Shouto’s lips ticked up in a hint of a smirk.
“Like what you see, daddy?”
Masaru’s face flushed almost comically red, and he opened and closed his mouth several times before settling on a near whispered response.
“How are you even real?”
Shouto took Masaru’s hands up in his, placing them on the sides of his bare waist as if to give him permission to touch. “I could say the same thing about you, daddy.”
Once again his touch was soft and reverent, tracing the lines of his muscles as if to worship his lithe frame. Masaru leaned forward with only a small amount of hesitation, pressing another kiss to his collarbone and Shouto’s head lulled to the side.
“If baby wants to ride me, he’s going to have to stand up.”
Shouto was sure he’d never moved so fast in his life. He almost lept from Masaru’s lap, dropping his sweats without missing the heated look thrown his way.
Masaru stood easily, sliding his own shirt off before divesting himself of his pants. His cock sprung free and Shouto’s mouth watered at the sight—thick length, flushed a pretty shade of pink and just begging to be buried inside of something warm and wet.
He sat back down with the same grace and pulled Shouto toward him. Masaru hooked his fingers into the waistband of Shouto’s boxers, peeling them down and over his own leaking hardness.
Shouto let an impatient moan fall from his mouth as Masaru licked his lips, umber eyes trained on his naked body.
He poured himself back into his lap, throwing his head back as Masaru’s hands slid around to cup his ass, moving further until his fingers were brushing Shouto’s puckered entrance.
Masaru experimentally pressed at his hole, humming thoughtfully when his finger slid in easily.
Shouto keened, sinking back onto the finger, his eyes fluttering closed and a contented sigh leaving his lips along with a heavy breath.
“You’re so pliant and open, Shouto. Did you stretch yourself for me?”
Shouto wanted to shake his head, to say ‘no, I didn’t even know Katsuki had a dad, much less that he was kind and gentle and could drive me wild with aching need,’ but another finger was joining the first and Shouto was long gone.
“Yes, daddy… I-I want—need you… didn’t wanna wait.”
Masaru’s free hand cupped Shouto’s jaw softly, his thumb brushing flushed lips as he added a third finger.
“That’s a good boy, Shouto. Such a good boy for daddy.”
Shouto bit down on his lip so hard he could taste the slight metallic tang, but those deft fingers were curling just right and there was no way he was going to miss out on this opportunity by alerting Katsuki and Izuku.
He pulled out much to Shouto’s displeasure and he whined at the loss. Blessedly, Shouto didn’t have to wait long before he felt the head of Masaru’s spit-slick cock pressing into him.
Shouto felt like he was being split apart in the best way, heat flooding his body at the delicious stretch. His breath was coming out in visible clouds of steam and Masaru held him in his arms as he sunk down, whispering praises in his ear with every inch he took.
There were fingers threading through his hair, and Shouto melted into the soft touch—gasping as he finished sinking and Masaru bottomed out.
“Daddy, you’re so big,” Shouto’s voice sounded strained and foreign to his own ears. “I feel so full…”
“You’re such a good boy for me, look at how well you take me.”
Shouto’s cock twitched at the praise and he shifted his hips, feeling the drag of the fat cock deep in his core. It was so much better than that fake imitation he’d fucked himself on in the shower that morning. He could almost feel the rushing of blood through the heavy length, velvety hot flesh pressing against his walls.
Shouto wasn’t sure if he would rather bounce on it or let Masaru use him as a cock warmer until the sun came up. In the end, the decision wasn’t his, and he felt himself being lifted by the strong hands on his waist before being dropped back down again.
Shouto bit down another shout, electricity thrumming just below the surface of his skin. Already he could feel himself slipping, that building itch setting in below his navel. He braced his legs on either side of Masaru, gripping the back of the couch and closing his eyes tightly.
Lifting himself till only the head remained inside, Shouto dropped his hips forcefully, repeating the motion with vigor, spurred on by the little noises Masaru made. It was simultaneously unbearable and addicting, and Shouto got lost in the myriad of blissful sensations.
His cock was leaking as heavily as his eyes, and he at least hoped he wasn’t drooling too terribly bad, but it was hard to compose himself with how oversensitive his body was.
“Shh, don’t cry baby. I’m proud of you, you’re doing so well.”
It was all too much, too much and not enough. Shouto could never get tired of the sweet praises and gentle encouragement.
“Shit, I’m so close daddy, say it again…”
“Oh baby, I’m proud of you for taking me so well, such a needy boy for daddy.”
Oh god, he’s trying to kill me.
Shouto let out something between a whine and a growl, picking up the pace and chasing his release.
“Yeah daddy, I’m your needy boy, let me come on your cock—I’ve been so good daddy, please!”
“Of course you can baby, so so good for me.”
So close, just a little more—
“What the fuck? WHAT THE LITERAL FUCKING FUCK!?”
On the last bounce, Masaru’s length slammed directly into his prostate and Shouto lost it. “AHH DADDY!”
He came with a guttural cry, his trembling legs giving out as Shouto sunk down completely. Masaru’s cock pumped stream after stream of cum into his wrecked ass and Shouto’s body shook with the force of his orgasm, his own cum painting their stomachs and dripping onto the couch.
He could barely hear anything over the heartbeat in his ears and what could have been muffled explosions, but it wasn't until he was being dragged off of Masaru by his hair that he realized they weren’t alone.
“Kacchan, don’t hurt him!” Izuku raced over to where Shouto was sitting in shock on the floor, wrapping a blanket around his naked body.
Shouto watched as Katsuki grabbed his father by the wrist, tugging him from the couch and pulling him toward the master bedroom. He kept staring long after they were gone, listening to Katsuki’s booming voice and Masaru’s muffled responses.
“Are you okay, Sho?”
“Huh?” He turned back toward Izuku, blinking at his concerned green eyes.
“What happened, Sho? Did he… did he—“
“What? No!” He shook his head feverently. “I came on to him, Jesus. Get some control of your boyfriend…”
“You what!? But-but that’s his dad!”
Shouto rolled his eyes and groaned, picking up his clothes and staggering to his feet before walking up the stairs. Izuku followed him, sitting in silence as he redressed and packed his bag.
“I just… he’s married.”
“Oh my god, Izuku. It’s not like I want a relationship with the man. Mitsuki never needs to find out.”
One green brow shot into his hairline and the other arched down, and the look was almost enough to make Shouto laugh.
“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
Shouto threw his hoodie into the overnight bag, zipping it with too much force and turning to face Izuku.
“I don’t see what the big deal is. We made a connection. It was fun, it’s over, end of story.”
“Yeah, but you’re my best friend. I just never knew you had it in you to do something like this.”
“And what if I just up and decided to fuck every daddy I came across, am I not still your best friend then?”
Izuku laughed nervously, shaking his head. “Okay obviously you’re going to be my friend no matter what, but that seems a little unrealistic, Sho.”
“What does?”
“There’s no way you would be able to f—have sex with every dad you came across.”
Shouto did bark out a laugh and opened his mouth to say ‘watch me’ when Katsuki stormed back into the room.
“Your own dad is fucking here so get the hell out of my house.”
Shouto rolled his eyes, grabbing his overnight bag from the bed. “Why are you being so weird about this? Worried I’m going to be your new step mommy?”
Katsuki yelled and went to blast him in the face, but Izuku held him back. “Dammit, Sho! You’re not helping here…”
Shouto walked by them, heading down the stairs. Masaru was nowhere in sight, but another decidedly more angry Bakugou was stomping down the stairs after him.
“I’ll kill you, you bastard!”
“Now is that any way to talk to your new mother?”
Izuku blanched, fighting to hold his boyfriend who was now struggling more than ever.
“Really, Sho!?”
Shouto scoffed at the both of them, pushing open the door and striding out to where Endeavor was parked. He was mildly surprised that Katsuki walked out after him instead of immediately trying to kill him once Izuku let him go.
He paused before getting in the car and looked back at Katsuki, quirking a brow. “Exactly how much did you tell my old man?”
“Tsk. I didn’t say nothin’, cause unlike you, I’m not a traitorous fucking whore.”
“Is this really such a big deal? I mean, it’s not like it wasn’t consensual, and I’m eighteen.”
“Yeah well, most people consider it a big deal when their friend pulls this kind of shit, slut for brains!”
“Come on Kat, consider it rule number one if you don’t want me fucking your dad,” Shouto flipped his long hair over his shoulder, throwing a look behind him before sliding into the back of Endeavor’s stupidly small car. He shut the door with an inconsiderate thud, rolling the window down slowly and ignoring his father’s yells.
“Just don’t invite me over to your house.”