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You stretch your shoulder, rolling the sore joint and wincing.
“Are you injured?” Shouto asks, putting down the binoculars for a second. “You look like you’re in pain.” You flush.
“Yeah I um,” you couldn’t exactly say that you and Deku had been fooling around in the agency locker room, and he’d bent your back at a clumsy odd angle, trying desperately to make you cum with no success. “Injured it.” You finish lamely, staring down at your palms.
“You and that fuckin’ idiot get hurt doin’ it in the broom closet?” Bakugou jeers and your face burns.
“It was a one time thing.” You mumble. “I just, I broke up with my boyfriend, and Midoriya’s so sweet, you know, I thought, maybe,” You realize both men are paying distinct attention to you now, “Sweet would be, better. Than my ex.” You shiver uncomfortably and turn your eyes back to the warehouse the three of you were watching. “Ah what time, was the drop off supposed to happen?” You ask, a little flustered, wanting to change the subject.
“Not for another few hours.” Shouto confirms. “We’re here to report movements in case it happens early.
“They really need all of us here for that?” You raise your eyebrows, leaning forward, bouncing your leg nervously.
“Whatsa matter,” Bakugou sneers, “You got a date or somethin’?” You laugh lightly.
“As a matter of fact I do.”
“Nice guy?” Todoroki asks politely.
“It won’t matter.” You sniff delicately, working on your shoulder. “I’m just gonna rebound, I’m gonna get it out of my system.”
“Deku not enough for you?” Bakugou laughs as you look away pointedly. “Course he wasn’t.”
“Izuku is a lovely individual who has many talents.” You say, oozing diplomacy, but next to you Todoroki rolls his eyes. “He is!” You protest, “It’s me, I’m the issue.” He relaxes a little, leaning against the car door, head propped up on his palm.
“The issue?” He probes, gently. You sigh, taking the binoculars out of your lap and putting them over your eyes and searching the building again.
“What’s the issue?” Bakugou is less artful than Todoroki, spitting the words out angrily.
“The issue is me,” you snap, “Happy, I’m the issue, I can’t finish with a partner, I’m fucking broken, or something, okay?” There’s a silence. “Jesus christ,” You groan, holding your face in your hands, “And I can’t fix it, I just, like I can enjoy sex without it, but I’ve never, you know-”
“Cum?” Bakugou finishes for you, the word sounding unspeakably filthy in his low growl. “‘S a shame.”
“Do,” Todoroki looks mystified, processing, “Do you fake it?” You nod miserably.
“At least I’m good at that.” You lift your head, sighing, staring at the building in front of you. “Let’s just work, okay?” You force yourself to focus, counting the bricks in front of you, the cracks in the sidewalk, the broken windows in the warehouse. Todoroki and Bakugou exchange a glance and speak at the same time.
“I could-”
“If you want I’d-”
You swallow before speaking, trying to bring some moisture to your dry mouth, looking nervously first at Bakugou, who just smirks, and then Todoroki who at least has the grace to look a touch sheepish, though it’s quickly overtaken by a quiet confidence.
“I don’t,” you mumble, “I mean that’s not a good idea, while we’re um,” you gesture towards the building, supposed to be watching for the meetup.
“Meetup’s not for a few hours.” Bakugou leans over, “C’mon princess, I can’t stand the idea of ya sufferin’ like that.”
“Excuse me,” Todoroki reaches across you and puts a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, keeping him from getting any closer to you. “I don’t think she said yes to you, specifically.”
“I didn’t say yes at all!” You squeak, “It’s already unbelievably embarrassing that you know this about me.” You soften, “And um, I know I’m not like, that I don’t look like,”
“You’re fuckin’ stunning.” Bakugou growls, “I don’t wanna hear any of that shit.” His hand ghosts your thigh. “Listen,” He speaks to Todoroki, “You don’t think you’d do a better job than me,”
“I know I would.” A decidedly gentlemanly smile spreads across his face, “It’s not like your quirk is of any help,” and he glances at Bakugou’s hands, “And frankly those don’t seem suited to such a delicate task.”
“Nothin’ delicate about it.” Bakugou snarls, “Keep talkin’ shit bastard, see what happens?”
“Um,” you push each of them back to their respective corners of the front seat of the truck. “That’ll be quite enough of that. W-were working.”
“Why don’tcha let us both try,” Bakugou rasps in your ear, the feeling of his breath causing the skin of your neck to erupt in goosebumps and your thighs to clench together.
“You’re not broken,” Todoroki counters, resting a hand posessively on your thigh, “Other men are just incompetant.” He slips his hand underneath the skirt of your hero costume.
“I mean,” you squeak, squirming at their possessive touch.
“Winner takes ya to dinner, fuck your date.” Bakugou offers. You sigh, so nervous your hands are shaking, knee bouncing in the seat under Shouto’s cool touch. It’s not like either man was unnatractive, you’d thought about either of them touching you before, lying in your bed at home, eeking out a little satisfaction with your own hands. But you’d never imagined them, together?
“Um,” You close your eyes, “Okay, but we never talk about this again.” Bakugou yanks you possessively closer to him on the seat, and Todoroki immediately protests.
“Who said you could go first?”
“What the fuck are you gonna do about it bastard?” He snaps. “I’m not waiting till you’ve overstimmed the fuck out of her with that bullshit quirk of yours.” Todoroki flashes his palms.
“Just don’t be so rough with her,” He hisses at the blonde, whose eyes are narrowing as he edges your soft thighs apart. “And if you want us to stop, if you’re uncomfortable, say stop, and we will.” You nod nervously.
“Say out loud that you understand.” Bakugou rasps.
“I-I understand,” you say quickly, “But I really think you’re overestimating your abilities here.” Shouto laughs harshly and Bakugou scowls.
“Focus on surveillance, bastard,” He snaps, and you look around, the alley the car was parked on was empty, thank goodness, the sun sinking low in the sky, painting the three of you with a soft golden light. “And you,” Bakugou snatches your chin in his free hands, “You focus on me.” You nod slowly, holding his burning gaze. His grip on your chin relaxes as he guides your mouth to his. “Relax for me.” He orders, feeling your pulse race, hot under your skin. “Relax,” he repeats, “Daddy’s here.”
“Really?” Todoroki raises his eyebrows and Bakugou snaps.
“I didn’t ask for color fuckin’ commentary.” He takes your leg and hooks it over his, moving his hand slowly up your thigh, pulling away from the kiss so that he can watch your reactions carefully. “Plus,” He smirks, “She likes it.” Your face burns.
“Ya looks so cute when you’re embarrassed,” he laughs, “Whatsa matter,” his fingers brush your lace panties, cool on your hot skin, “Afraid you’re gonna make a mess, squirt all over daddy’s fingers?” You let out an involuntary strangled moan, back arching against the seat, and he laughs again, “I’ve barely touched you,” He slides your panties to the side, looking up to Todoroki. “Little slut’s soaked.” Shouto leans forward, and Bakugou runs his fingers up your slit then withdraws them, showing him the slick glistening on his fingers, you whimper softly and go to cover your face with your hands.
“Oi.” Bakugou says, scowling, “None of that, I wanna see your face.” He reaches over and pries your hands from your face, “Open your mouth,” you part your lips and Bakugou shoves his fingers inside, you suck instinctively and Todoroki coos,
“Good girl,” You shudder at the praise and Bakugou frowns at his rival. “She is, though,” Shouto protests, rubbing gentle circles on your thigh, “Stay still for him, alright?” You nod, trying to relax as Bakugou’s hands move lower on your body again, this time, his deft fingers part your folds, and you let out a shaky breath as he finds your clit without looking, nearly based on your reactions to his touch alone. You let out a soft cry when he starts to circle it,
“Fuck, Bakugou, I-”
“Is that what you call me?” He snaps, free hand tipping your face to his, “Slut.” You swallow, eyes closing as the pleasure starts to wash over your body, every light brush of your clit feeling like an electric shock, causing all of your muscles to tense.
“S-sorry, Daddy,” You choke out, staring directly into his eyes, and Bakugou’s willpower nearly snaps at the soft look of innocence on your face, a victorious smile spreading across his face in the light of the setting sun.
“What do you want?” He asks, deep voice dripping with his own desperation, “Beg me for it.” You take a shuddering breath in, aware of Todoroki’s presence in a way that Bakugou doesn’t seem to be, but his cool hand on your thigh in contrast to Bakugou’s rough burning touches is grounding you in reality.
“W-want-” You cut yourself off with a sharp gasp, he grinds his thumb into you and you nearly double over, the sensation is so much, you curl your toes in your boots, your face warm hands trembling,
“What was that?” Bakugou asks, resuming his slow torture.
“Want, want you inside,” You breathe, this time managing to hold onto the sentence when he presses directly against your nub. “Please, daddy,” you cry out when he doesn’t stop immediately, “‘S too much, I,” your hands fly to your face again and he looks livid.
“Hold her still.” He snaps at Shouto who narrows his eyes.
“Why should I?”
“I’ll do it for you, bastard, just hold her the fuck down for me.” Todoroki rolls his eyes but obliges, removing his hand from your thigh, prying your hands away from your face. He reaches around your back, holding both of your wrists in one hand and then pressing down on your thigh with the other, pinning you to the seat as your hips buck against his touch.
“Shhh,” Shouto breathes, unable to stop him from pressing a soft kiss to the side of your face as he watches tears well in your eyes, catching the reflection of the buttery sunset, “You’re so beautiful.”
“Stop fuckin’ praisin’ her when she ain’t done shit for us yet,” Bakugou reprimands sharply, dipping a single finger into your sopping core and grinning, “You’re drippin’ all over my fingers slut, what a messy goddamn bitch.” You whimper, mouth dropping open as he pumps it in and out of you, adding a second finger, still flicking his thumb over your clit, watching the way you straining against Todoroki’s grip. “She too much for you?” he taunts and Shouto glares at him.
“Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.” He says coolly. “She’s barely struggling.” Bakugou frowns and picks up the pace, fucking you faster with a lewd squelching sound, causing you to buck in your seat but Shouto holds you firmly, tightening his grip on your wrists. Bakugou grins evilly and curls his fingers forcing a gasp out of your lungs,
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You moan, “Oh my god,” He does it again and you see stars, your vision clouding out.
“Oi,” Bakugou snaps, slapping your thigh hard, “Don’t fuckin’ cum without permission, got that cunt?” You nod emphatically, biting down on your lower lip, soft desperate whines falling from your lips like water, “Tell me how good it feels,” he orders, feeling his cock strain against his pants, your sweet little moans, soft parted lips, the way you haven’t taken your eyes off of him, he’s living and dying with every twitch of your body, with each sharp breath.
“F-feels, so good,” You barely get the words out between your high pitched whines. “N-never, felt like th-this,” the tears in your eyes spill over, sparkling in the warm light and Bakugou groans, “Daddy,” you warble, “Please, can I, can I cum?”
“You wanna cum on my fingers here,” he growls, leaning right into your ear, the vibrations of his voice send shivers up your spine. “Gonna cum right here, right in front of him, you dirty fuckin’ slut.” You screw your face up and whine, clearly barely holding onto your orgasm, squirming against Shouto’s firm hold, he slaps your thigh, “Who is it, who wants to cum?”
“M-me,” you blink up at him, confused, then realize what he wants, “Daddy,” you whine and he nearly ruins his own pants at the brokenness of your voice, you half speak half sob, “Your dirty little slut wants to cum.”
“Yeah, bitch go ahead, cum for me,” He chuckles, “Fuckin’ desperate for it, arentcha?”
You let out a strangled moan, unable to answer his question, the ability to find words leaves your body. It’s like an elastic band snaps in your stomach and you keen so loudly Bakugou roughly covers your mouth with his huge hand. “Jesus christ.” He mutters, carrying you carefully through your high, your breaths pointed and shallow, eyes glassy and unfocused. “Let her go, stupid,” Bakugou barely waits for Shouto to release you before gathering your body in his arms, cradling you to his chest, watching you come back to Earth. “Open,” he rasps, and you blink dumbly, parting your glossy lips, and Shouto watches, transfixed as you lick and suck his fingers clean. “Now she’s a good girl.” Bakugou smirks.
“That might be an understatement.” Shouto responds and he nods.
“Fuck me,” He groans, “I’m so fuckin’ hard,” Shouto snorts, and the blonde glares at him. “Like you aren’t.” Shouto shrugs.
“Maybe I have some self control.” You blink a few times, willing your eyes to refocus.
“That was um,” You pause, “Fuck, Bakugou.” He grins.
“It’s daddy now.”
“No.” You grumble, pushing out of his arms, rubbing your eyes as you settle back into your seat.
“Katsuki, then.” He counters and you nod, bleary eyed. He palms his length through his pants. “Fuck,” he growls, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Todoroki laughs gently, “And just what’s so goddamn funny?”
“You lose control so easily.” Shouto stretches a little while Bakugou fumes. “Come here,” he says to you, and you scoot closer to him on the seat. He slips one finger underneath your jaw. “Look at me.” You stare up at him, pupils still opium blown. “You will do as you’re told.” You nod. “When I speak to you, I expect an answer.”
“Yes, sir,” you breathe, and Shouto doesn’t smile, just nods.
“Give me a fuckin’ break.” Bakugou snarls from across the seat. “Yes sir? Is this a goddamn country club?”
“What did you say about color commentary?” Shouto responds without looking at him, running his thumb over your lower lip, “Open.”
“Yes, sir,” You mutter, and he presses his thumb against the flat of your tongue, frowning at you for a moment before spitting into your open mouth. You gurgle a little, trembling under the ice of his gaze, and behind you Bakugou lets out a long shaky breath.
“Swallow.” He says, and you obey, “Thank me,” he orders.
“Th-thank you, sir.” He cocks his head a degree, as if deciding your response was barely satisfactory. He pats his thighs.
“Move.” His tone is curt and sharp, you scramble to obey, climbing into his lap, letting him adjust you so that your knees are on either side of him, reaching under your skirt and burning through your panties without any hint of an apology. You let out a little yelp and jump in his lap and he frowns, delivering a harsh slap to your thigh. “Stay still, and look at me.” You maintain eye contact with him, his face utterly devoid of interest or emotion as he ghosts his freezing fingers over your most intimate parts. He runs one finger up your slit and shakes his head in disgust. “Dripping already, hm?” He narrows his eyes. “Desperate for it, even though you just came?” You swallow, whimpering a little and he shakes his head with disapproval.
“Y-yes sir.” Your face burns at the humiliation, shuddering as he starts to gently rub the area around your clit, thighs trembling, hands reaching for him on instinct when he brushes against it gently. He scowls.
“Don’t touch me.” You nod, about to respond when he stops touching you, and in one smooth movement, takes the pair of handcuffs from his belt and fastens them around your wrists, hooking the chain in between them on the handle of the car roof. He goes back to paying teasing attention to your clit.
“Oh, god,” you sigh, “Oh, oh my god, please,” You beg, “Please I need more, this is,” you bow your head for a moment then remember his order and snap back to attention.
“Have you earned more?” Shouto says, tone frigid.
“W-want to,” You beg, thighs shaking in earnest now with the effort not to roll your hips against his hand, “Want to earn it.”
“Really?” He asks, eyebrows raised, the ghost of a smirk on his lips, the first sign of any emotion since he’d pulled you from Bakugou. He waits for you to open your mouth to respond before grinding his thumb into your clit, you double over with pain at the stimulation, your head landing on his chest. “Try again, slut.” He says.
“Please, Sir,” You beg, swallowing, your mouth dropping open as he slips one finger inside of your gasping at the sudden intrusion and at it’s cold temperature, “Please I want more, please, I’m begging,” You stare at him, tears pooling in your eyes. The sun is below the horizon now and your shadow is purple in the twilight.
“That’s it, there she is,” he murmurs, showing the slightest bit of interest now, but you’re so desperate for his approval at this point it doesn’t matter how small the crumb is, you’re diving for it. “Cry for me.” The smallest amount of praise warms your chest, you’re so eager to please that the hot tears roll down your cheeks unbidden, spurred on by the slightest softening of his features. He adds a second finger, watching you react like he’d shocked you, the smallest, cockiest smile on his face as he switches hands like lightning, warm thumb brushing your clit, still swollen and pulsing from your last orgasm. You shudder and the tears spill over, your whole body is shaking now as you don’t dare break eye contact with him, letting out soft little mewls as you roll your hips against his fingers.
“Jesus christ,” Bakugou groans from across the car, and you glance over, on instinct, at the noise, he’s pumping his cock, it’s long and thick, the tip purpled with need and dripping precum, “Give me somethin’ here.” Shouto scowls, ignoring Bakugou, grabbing your face roughly and pulling you down to so that he can speak growl in your ear,
“If I weren’t trying to win,” he practically spits, “I’d take you right over my knee for that. I said look at me, are you too dumb to follow basic orders,” He curls his fingers inside you, “Is this all it takes to turn your brain off, a little attention?” You whimper and he lets go of your face, moving faster grinding the heel of his palm against your clit, adding a third finger, pressing up against that spongey spot inside of you, your vision goes blurry, a mixture of pleasure and tears,
“N-no sir,” You choke out,
“You still want to cum?” He asks harshly.
“Yes sir,” You beg, “Please,” Your voice is hoarse and desperate, you’re riding a dangerous edge, “Please let me, I’ll do anything,” You take another shuddering gasp as he takes his time considering.
“Fine,” he relents, “Cum for me.” You gush around his fingers as soon as he speaks, eyes fluttering shut as you collapse into his chest, you sob quietly as your orgasm rips through you, “Good girl,” he coos, pressing his lips to your forehead, “So good,” you snuggle into his chest unconsciously as he takes the handcuffs down from the handle, your body twitching and trembling under his careful touch. You cry delicately into his chest. “There’s nothing wrong with you, alright, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, tucking your head under your chin, “You just need guidance.” Bakugou cums into his hand with a strangled moan, reaching for the takeout napkins and cleaning himself off.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Bakugou growls, “You’re kind of an asshole, Todoroki.” Shouto laughs.
“I didn’t make her call herself a dirty slut before letting her cum.” Bakugou scoots across the seat and surprisingly, Shouto lets him take your body so that you’re in both of their laps.
“See,” Bakugou brushes some hair out of your face, “‘S nothin’ wrong with you, princess.” Shouto draws gentle patterns on your thighs.
“Anything hurt?” He asks, “Everything alright?” You nod, mumbling,
“Yeah, Sho, ‘s fine.” You yawn softly and nuzzle into Bakugou’s thigh, mission forgotten.
“She’s so pretty,” He muses again, and Bakugou glances over at him, chuckling derisively. “Shut the fuck up,” Shouto snaps, seeing that Bakugou is eyeing the tent in his pants,
“What happened to Mr. Control,” Bakugou taunts, “Don’t ya just wanna fuckin’ wreck her now?” Shouto nods, letting out a hiss, and Bakugou taps your forehead, “Hows that sound huh, wanna let us ruin that pretty little pussy later?” You nod dumbly, whimpering a little. “Alright baby,” he chuckles, “Go back to sleep.”
“Who fucking won?” Shouto says, sitting more upright as he remembers, “Wait who won, y/n?” You prop yourself up a little.
“I um,” Your cheeks burn, “I’m not sure.” Bakugou turns, resting his elbow on the top of the seat, an evil glint in his eye.
“Whoever makes her cum the most tonight wins.” You sit up, eyes wide but before you can protest, the mere thought of that overstimulation makes your clit throb, Shouto reaches across your body and shakes Bakugou’s hand.
“You’re on.” They look down at you. “Relax, you were so good for us,” Shouto murmurs, “Get some rest, love.” Bakugou gently massages your scalp.
“You’ll need it.”