Alright, a surprising number of you want me to post this, so here's some of my TOP KINKS in Kiribaku form. QRT's would go a long way to making me continue this. xD

There's a little plot, but mostly this is gonna be porn.

Sex Quirk
Blue Balls
Ball Growth
Lots of Cum
Quirk: Edge


Eijirou dropped his phone into his duffel bag and rolled his shoulders, tired and achey and all too ready to be home finally.
The transit news reported a delay a few stops up and now he’d be stuck waiting at the station for another thirty minutes; another half an hour of pushy civilians just as impatient as he was to be done with their day.
He’d already shouldered his way to a quieter section of the platform, but the space was quickly filling with more and more folks.

He grumbled low in his chest at yet another elbow to his ribs.
It wasn’t that he hated crowds, exactly; it was just how damn wound up he got after patrol. He spent hours every day in a state of tense alertness, body ready for action at any moment, and that sort of low-simmer adrenaline rush had… effects.


Fuck it, he was damned horny.
The gust of wind as the train pulled into the station was a blessed relief against his skin, prickling his arms with goosebumps even in the packed heat of so many people. He’d always been sensitive to touch, it was a side effect of his quirk; +
just one more reason to dislike crowds, though.

The mass surged forward, shoving into the train cars in a rush. He surrendered himself to the wave, pulling his bag in tight and trying not to crush anyone with his massive frame.
He felt a strange, sharp pinch in his hip as he shuffled in, hissing through his teeth at the sudden sting and flare of warmth in his groin. He half expected to see a needle sticking out of his shorts, but there was nothing there, just a short, +
dark haired woman trying to make it through the doors like everyone else.

Eijirou shrugged it off and slid up against the back wall, mentally preparing himself for the sweltering ride.
His dick had been half hard since his shower at work and he was really regretting not just dealing with it then. He might've been able to relax a little.

The train pinged its departure warning and started north; ten stops and he’d be home. Just twenty more minutes of horny hell.
A jolt on the track knocked a young man flat into his chest and he groaned.

Yeah, it was gonna be a long trip.

-- ⚙️ --

Eijirou couldn’t remember the last time he’d been nearly this keyed up; not since he was a teenager, for sure.
He slammed the front door shut and scanned the apartment for signs of his roommate. Bakugou wasn’t due back from his shift until late; he had plenty of time to unwind before making them both dinner for the night.
Eijirou kicked off his boots and tossed his duffel bag in with the laundry before dropping onto the couch and unceremoniously shoving his hand down his pants.

He nearly bit his tongue clean through at the feeling.
Everything was more sensitive, like someone had gone and buried a live wire beneath his skin, tingling and tight and twitching.

He dragged his hand down his cock, groaning at the intensity of such a simple action, twisting rough at the base before stroking back up.
His head lolled against the top of the couch as he picked up speed, setting a firm and torturous rhythm. It was sinfully good, far better than a handjob had been in /ages/, let alone a fucking dry one.
Slumping deeper into the cushions, he quickly worked his shorts off, spreading his legs wide and indulgent before resuming.

He was going to enjoy having the apartment to himself for once, thank you very much.
Sure, he could hide out in his bedroom or take a little extra time in the shower, but there was something so damn intoxicating about chasing his pleasure where Bakugou might accidentally see, where he could play out the fantasy that Bakugou /wanted/ to see.
Eijirou slipped his free hand down to his balls, rolling them with calloused fingers as he let his imagination run wild: Bakugou stepping out of the bedroom to find him splayed out on their couch, dick weeping, fingers buried in his ass as he prepped himself; +
Bakugou sneaking up behind him in the kitchen, grabbing handfuls of his ass and rutting hard against his thighs, demanding that he finish what he’s cooking; Bakugou pulling him into the shower, dropping to his knees with a predatory grin, +
gaze sharper than Eijirou’s teeth could ever be; Bakugou beneath him in bed, crying out his name again and again and again, reverent and debauched.

Eijirou’s pace quickened.
He shoved the bottom of his shirt between his teeth, staring lopsided down the slope of his chest as his thighs flexed and jerked, hips canting of their own needy volition.
Heat welled deep in his gut, magma hot, and he could swear the feeling was pooling in his balls. They twitched and lifted and he moaned, load and gravelly.

More. He needed more.
-- ⚙️ --

I'll be back with more tonight, but for now, I've gotta run to the airport. ;3 What's an edging thread if I don't edge y'all at the same time, yeah?

Remember to QRT instead of commenting and that I love you all SO MUCH! 💜

-- ⚙️ --
Eijirou slipped the fingers of his free hand into his mouth, soaking them thoroughly before he slid them down to his chest, flicking and pinching at his neglected nipples until they stood proud and flushed and shiny.
He’d give anything to be able to reach them with his tongue instead, had tried once or twice over the years as his pecs had grown, but he’d make do with wet fingers and the vivid memory of Bakugou sucking on cherries from the night before.
The bastard had even fucking winked at him before popping a whole cherry into his soft, wet mouth.

A small part of his brain said he should feel bad for sexualizing his best friend, but he pushed it aside with a groan and fisted his cock faster.
His whole body tensed and raised from the couch as he neared his end, too far gone in the pleasure to think about making it last longer. He felt his ankle pop as he lifted onto his toes, legs quivering, chest tight as he panted loudly into the empty living room.
He was so close, so close, just needed a little bit more. That beautiful, perfect, tantalizing edge was right /there/.

The distinct feeling of stretching, swelling, /churning/ in his balls started up, the growing wave of heat deep in his gut as it slowly crested, and then-

Like someone had flipped a damn switch in his dick and said, “sorry, no orgasm for you!”

There were no fireworks behind his eyes, no dull roar of blood rushing in his ears, no pleasant jelly limbed tingling, just…

Eijirou dropped to couch like a stone, breathing heavily.

He was still hard.

He gave an experimental twist to the head of his cock and hissed; it was far too sensitive, as if he’d gone five rounds instead of half of one.
All in all, it was undeniably the most unsatisfying finale he’d ever managed. He wasn’t even sure he’d /actually/ finished, to be honest.

And god, his balls /ached/. They felt heavy and full and hot and he couldn’t help but run his fingers over them.
The delicate skin seemed tighter than usual, less wrinkled, and he swore they hung rounder than before.

Tired, pissed, and too sensitive to try again, Eijirou gave up and rolled off the couch, forgoing his discarded shorts in favor of wearing just his loose boxers.
He and Bakugou had seen each other in half states of dress often enough that he figured his roommate wouldn’t be too bothered by it.

Eijirou tossed his shorts into the hamper with everything else and trudged into the kitchen to make dinner.
Maybe he'd try again later.

He was still horny.

-- ⚙️ --
Try as he might, Eijirou could not make himself pay attention. He’d already burnt himself twice on the wok, which, considering his quirk let him fucking /harden his skin/, was just an added insult to the day.
He growled at the panful of vegetables like they’d personally insulted him.

He knew he was being pissy, but honestly, he didn’t give a shit. Everything was achy, his skin felt two sizes too tight, and he’d somehow managed to supremely edge himself.
The sound of Bakugou yelling and cursing the moment the apartment door closed was just icing on his bad mood cake.

At least there’d been steak in the fridge. Small blessings.

He jumped, nearly burning himself for a third damn time as Bakugou stormed into the kitchen.

“The fuck are you ignoring me for?”

Eijirou flicked off the stove and turned to glare daggers at his roommate.
Bakugou’s eyes snapped up to his, wide and startled, and… “Were you checking out my ass?”

“Wha- Fuck no!” The pink on his cheeks and the tips of his ears said otherwise. “Just tell me what’s for dinner, asshole.”
Eijirou smirked and raised an eyebrow, but ultimately let Bakugou off the hook; he didn’t have the energy to rile the man up tonight. “Steak and stir fry. The rice’ll be ready in a minute, too.”
Bakugou seemed to relax just slightly and he nodded. “Alright. I’m gonna grab a quick shower then. I feel like shit.”

“You and me both.” Eijirou mumbled, too quiet for Bakugou to hear as he stalked towards their tiny bathroom.
If Eijirou allowed himself an extra moment to admire his roommate’s ass as he left, well, that was between him and his dick.

His very hard, very needy dick.
-- ⚙️ --

Tiny update, I know, but I'm falling asleep on the keyboard. Whoops. I'll be back with more tomorrow! 💜

-- ⚙️ --
“Ran into a fucked up new villain today.” Bakugou said, picking over his vegetables before popping one into his mouth. His chopsticks lingered for a long moment between his lips while he pinned Eijirou with a look he’d only ever seen used on the battlefield; +
it was dark and predatory and sent shivers tingling down Eijirou’s spine.

His cock twitched in his boxers.
“She said somethin’ about ‘doing the manliest hero a favor’ while trying to kick Tapeface’s teeth out.” Bakugou continued, finally dropping his attention back to his dinner. “Thought maybe you knew her or something.”
Eijirou frowned around his bite of steak and tried to think through the list of villains that had shown a little too much interest in him lately; every hero had their share of crazy fans, but Eijirou’s list always seemed longer than everyone else’s.
“What was her quirk?” he asked, hoping it would jog his memory.

“Don’t know. She never used it.”

“Didn’t the cops have an analyzer with them?”

Bakugou shrugged, “Maybe. Never got the chance to test her. She slipped away when her partner tore a squad car in half.”
“Huh. Well, what’d she look like then?” Eijirou asked while pushing his chair out enough to stretch backwards over the top of it; his spine popped like a firecracker and he groaned in relief.
There was a sudden clatter of chopsticks on ceramic and a low curse of, “Could you wear a tighter fuckin’ shirt?” from Bakugou as Eijirou plopped back into his seat.

“Uhhh, you good bro?”

“Fuckin’ fine.” Bakugou grunted, standing quickly and grabbing their plates.
He dropped them into the sink with the dinner pans and set to washing. “Wasn’t really much special about her. She was short, middle aged, black hair. Looked like any random lady on the street.”
Something about the description rang familiar, but Eijirou couldn’t quite pin it down; he was too busy watching the way Bakugou’s back muscles flexed as he scrubbed the dishes to really pay attention.
He’d thrown on one of his plain black tank tops after his shower and Eijirou was silently thankful for the fabulous view of his shoulders and traps. They'd bulked up beautifully during high school with all the intensive quirk training.
God, Eijirou wanted to lick them so bad.

He jolted upright in his seat, stiff as a board, and stared down at his traitorous dick. It was half hard and drooling into his boxers just from /looking/ at his roommate.
That hot, full feeling was already oozing into his balls and he new he had seconds before he popped a full boner in the middle of the damn kitchen.
Eijirou scrambled to his feet and panic shuffled towards his bedroom, ignoring Bakugou’s “Where the hell are you going?” in favor of slamming his door shut.

He'd apologize later.

- ⚙️ -

Hey all! Friendly reminder to please QRT instead of commenting. :3 I FEED off of your thoughts though, so don't hold back! If you're too nervous to say something here, you're always welcome to drop into my CC to share your thoughts there instead! 💜

Eijirou yanked open his dresser drawer so fast he nearly popped the handle off; his dick was rock hard and throbbing and making it difficult to focus on finding his lube and massager, but he managed eventually.
He shoved the drawer closed, danced awkwardly out of his boxers and t-shirt, and flopped onto his bed, cringing as the headboard banged into the wall.

It wasn’t like he was being discreet about the fact that he was about to masturbate, but he usually tried to be a bit quieter.
Oh well, he’d apologize for that later, too.

He rolled onto his back and ran his hands down his chest, his abs, his hips, digging his fingers into the meat of the muscles until he shivered.
Gooseflesh rose up on his skin as he changed the pressure to a featherlight touch, ever so lightly ghosting over the sensitive crease between crotch and thigh and skimming along the velvety stretch marks he’d earned over the years.
His thick dick bobbed and twitched, angry and neglected, and it pearled with more pre, already dribbling thick onto his stomach. He was pretty sure he’d cum instantly if he so much as touched it.

That was fine though, he had different plans.
Eijirou hiked his legs up and shoved a free pillow beneath his ass, patting blindly for the bottle of lube at the same time and nearly knocking it straight off the bed.
He caught it and immediately drizzled cold lube over his fingers, watching the excess drip down his palm and wrist; he was making a mess, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Everything was about to get a lot messier anyways.
One hand ended up behind his left knee, pulling his thigh flush with his pecs as he carefully threaded the other hand down past his cock to trace wetly around his rim.
The gentle pressure of his forearm flexing against his overfull balls was downright maddening and he moaned into the feeling. Sure, they usually felt nice to play with, but this was new and different; he figured a stiff breeze would set them pulsing at this point.
He took a deep breath and tried to focus past the sensation, relaxing his core just enough to slide a finger into his hole. His muscles jumped and twitched as he slowly pushed in, firing off the nerves in a way he would never be able to get used to.
Impatience had him working on a second finger before the first even made it to the final knuckle, all while swirling the tips luxuriantly against his inner walls.
He’d thought he was horny earlier but /damn/, he’d been so, /so/ wrong; just the act of prepping himself was torturous.

Pleasure zipped up his spine at the simplest motion, curling his toes and arching his back up off the bed, spilling moans and mewling whimpers past his teeth.
At this rate, he wasn’t going to last long enough to even use the vibrator he’d grabbed.

Eijirou shook violently as he crooked both fingers up against his pubic bone, searching desperately for that hard bundle of nerves he’d grown so familiar with.
A punched out “Fuck!” tore through him when he finally stumbled across his prostate, and another gush of pre oozed onto his clenching abs.

A sudden hard knock, followed by, “Hey Ei, you good in there?”, startled him back from the edge of orgasm.
His whole body tensed in shock and he looked desperately at the door; it was locked, thank /fuck/.

He swallowed hard, swallowed again, and finally chirped out a, “Yeah bro, I’m fine. Just… tired.” Eijirou winced at just how stupid /that/ had sounded.
“Uh huh. Anyways, I cleaned up the kitchen. Don’t make such a huge ass mess next time.”

“Sorry dude, I’ll be more careful next time!” Eijirou waited until he heard Bakugou walk off before grabbing frantically for his vibrator with lube sticky fingers.


Top of the thread:


Lemme just take a second to say that this might be the horniest thing I've written to date. I'm legit proud of this update. Anyways, on to the horny! 💜

(Remember to QRT not comment and thanks for reading!)

It was a simple, curved prostate massager, nothing special, but it was more than enough to get the job done most of the time. He readjusted his bent leg, his thigh still pressed firmly to his chest, and gingerly moved the vibe down to his asshole.
Something in the back of his mind said he should add more lube and probably stretch with more than two fingers, but he was too damn horny to listen to that silly little rational part of his brain.
He set the head of the massager against his asshole and flicked on the middle setting.

He nearly screamed.

Tears pricked his eyes and he panted violently, sucking down deep shuddering lungfuls of air while trying not to buck right off the damn bed.
/That/ had been a wholly new and unexpected experience, to say the least. He swore he’d seen stars and he hadn’t even gotten the toy inside!

Eijirou rolled his head back and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the sensitivity to simmer down before he tried again.
He lowered the vibe’s setting a degree and dragged it against his taint instead, biting his lip and moaning darkly as the smooth tip of the toy bumped along the piercings hidden behind his fat balls.
Vibrations arced through the trio of silver barbells and set his nerves spinning in a completely different way.

It was a slower build than any sort of internal stimulation, but /fuck/ if it didn’t feel goddamn amazing.
Eijirou lost himself to the feeling for a few long minutes, occasionally sliding the massager up along his sac to watch his balls tense and bob beneath his cock.

He’d wondered about it earlier, but now he was sure of it; his balls were absolutely bigger than before.
They’d always been impressive, sitting somewhere around large eggs, but now… now they hung like ripe lemons.

If not for the fact that it would probably make him cum on the spot, he’d have already gathered them in his palms to squeeze and fondle and measure.
Eijirou made a mental note to check them out later, when he /wasn’t/ in the process of building up the most insane orgasm of his life. As it was, he didn’t think he could wait much longer, already feeling that swelling needy pressure simmering low in his gut again.
Giving one last electric sweep to his piercings, he brought the vibe back to his ass, determined to make it past the tight ring of muscle this time. Heat flushed across his face and neck as he pushed in, +
but he managed to slide the toy inch after vibrating inch until /finally/ the thick bulb in the middle rolled into place against his prostate.

“Oh holy shiiiiiiiiit,” he breathed, his whole body curling in on itself as he practically ascended.
His hole rippled greedily around the massager, unconscious flexing waves that tugged and gripped at the toy, pressing it tight against that euphoric spot within him and milking him for everything he was worth. The sheer volume of precum drooling from his dick was obscene.
Eijirou couldn’t help but stare in amazement as it puddled on his abs; the amount rivaled the largest load he’d ever achieved and he hadn’t even /fucking cum yet/.

Another wave of full body shivering coursed through him and he nearly cried.
He had no idea how long he’d been at it, didn’t really care anymore either, too focused on tipping past that last hurdle and into bliss. Every shift, every pull, every tense of his inner walls set him right at the edge of climax and then the finish line would move, +
demanding he spiral even higher before he could finally fall.

He rocked the toy with shaking fingers, bouncing it against his prostate with gasps of, “More, more, please, fuck, so close, /please/,” until he swore he was losing his goddamn mind.
Everything was sharp white with pleasure, like an overwhelming heat in his veins.

It was too much, and still not enough.
But then he felt something new; a near unbearable pressure growing deep in the base of his groin and balls, like someone had grabbed him by the root of his cock and poured warmth straight down his dick.
He couldn’t explain it, but it felt like he was /growing/, like the deep, hidden mechanics of his anatomy were swelling and filling and stretching fuller and fuller and /fuller/-

The next press of the vibe made his heart stutter to a stop.
He tore it free, immediately sinking two fingers to the palm to feel for himself, gasping and trembling as they bumped over the swollen, engorged roundness of his prostate.
What was normally no more than a slight denseness beneath his fingers was now a distinct bulge, as if the gland had been replaced with a fucking golfball.

He pressed into it as hard as he could, and this time he did scream.
But then there was nothing.

No pleasure, no euphoria tearing through his bones, no earth shattering, mind numbing bliss.


Just like before.

Oversensitivity slammed into him with all the intensity of a speeding truck; he wrenched his fingers free from his hole, legs collapsing as he heaved ragged, enraged breaths.
“Fucking damn it all to hell!”

He slammed his fists into the bedding and sobbed, letting the furious, frustrated tears roll down his cheeks.



Gemini, one of my incredible readers, commissioned Lakes to draw Eijirou having some alone time! 😭😭😭 I simply cannot believe the details: tan lines, rosy flush, stretch marks, his gauges, I just- I LOVE IT, THANK YOU!


Chapter 1 has been edited and added to Ao3 for those of you who prefer reading all at once! (Or if you'd like to give a reread or leave a permanent comment!)



It's back! 👀 Short update from Katsuki's perspective tonight!


Katsuki inhaled sharply, a rough, ragged breath through his nose as he stroked himself faster, his free hand firmly locked over his mouth to keep himself quiet.
He leaned harder into the sturdy wood of his bedroom door, all of his attention trained on the /sinfully/ gorgeous noises Kirishima was making from just across the hall.
He hadn’t planned on getting himself off twice tonight, once in the shower had been enough, but there was something so intoxicatingly addictive about getting off /to Kirishima/ that he just couldn’t pass up.
And shit, he’d heard his roommate’s pleasure occasionally, they lived in the same fucking apartment after all, but Katsuki would give /anything/ to see just what Kirishima was doing to himself to sound like he did tonight.
His mind helpfully conjured up dozens of increasingly erotic scenarios for him; Kirishima humping up into a crystal clear fleshlight, his dick straining the silicone to bursting; Kirishima on his hands and knees, sinking back onto a massive mounted dildo; +
Kirishima with a smooth metal sounding rod dipping in and out of his flushed red cock.

A long, drawn out moan drifted from Kirishima’s room and Katsuki clamped down on the base of his weeping dick, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he staved off his impending orgasm.
Maybe it was stupid and cheesy and weird, but Katsuki wanted to hold out until Kirishima came, to allow himself that little moment of make believe to imagine they were more than just roommates and best friends finally.
He swore he heard a hushed and broken sounding “please” a moment later and /goddamn/ did Katsuki want to be the reason for Kirishima’s pleading.
He wanted to study every facet of the man’s pleasure, wanted to spend the rest of his life learning what he loved and loathed, what made him writhe in ecstasy.

And then he wanted to ruin him.
Another deep, growled groan filtered through the door, leaving Katsuki teetering on the edge again, practically choking on his own desperate, gargled sound.
He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down around the black metal ring there, using the flash of pain to distract himself even as his torso curled inwards, half rolling him off the door in his attempt to keep quiet.
He wasn’t going to last much longer, no matter how much he wanted-

Kirishima screamed.

Katsuki’s eyes shot open and his hand slammed into the wall to brace himself as pure, unrelenting fire raced through him.
His balls pulled up hard and fast, his cock twitched nearly out of his grip, and then he was cumming, painting his bedroom tile in messy, uneven strokes of creamy white.

For one long, /agonizing/ second, Katsuki thought he’d been caught, that Kirishima had somehow heard him and that would be the end of the good thing they had going.

“Fucking damn it all to hell!”
But no, Kirishima didn’t sound disgusted that his roommate had jerked it to his voice, he sounded pained and frustrated and fuck, was he crying?

Something was definitely wrong and it sent a twist of worry through Katsuki’s still heaving chest.
He pushed off the door, afterglow be damned, and tucked himself hastily into his lounge pants. Right as he wrapped a hand around the doorknob, he heard Kirishima’s door open, followed immediately by the bathroom door.
Katsuki stumbled out of his room in a rush, just in time to see Kirishima’s gorgeous, naked ass disappearing into the bathroom.

And then the door slammed shut in his face and he was left to wonder what the /hell/ had just happened.


Y'all, this update was surprisingly difficult to write. No idea why, but hey, it's done and I'm proud of it. xD Enjoy!

(Please QRT instead of commenting, thank you! 💜)

Eijirou locked the door with shaky fingers and forced himself to think, even as his body sang with leftover arousal, frustration, and a newly arrived panic that’d swept over him like a staticky wave.

Something was wrong.

Very, very wrong.
“Ei? What the fuck happened? Are you okay?”

He could hear Bakugou just outside, probably about to blast his way in, but he couldn’t focus on the words. There was too much noise in his head, +
his mind too busy reeling from what he’d fleetingly seen just a few moments ago, what he’d felt as he sprinted full tilt from his bed to the bathroom.

Eijirou tightened his grip on the counter and stared at his reflection.
His eyes were blown wide and teary, his skin still shiny with sweat from his intense jack-off session. Strands of wild red hair framed his face, having escaped the sloppy bun he’d thrown it all up into earlier, +
and he supposed he might have looked hot if he weren’t dissolving into a panic attack at the same time.

The door handle rattled beside him and he closed his eyes, slowing his breathing as much as possible with the way his heart was pounding.

Maybe he’d imagined it?
He wanted nothing more than to find out he was overreacting, that the cold chill of dread in his bones screaming “this is wrong, something’s wrong” was just the byproduct of a long day at work and overly frazzled nerves.

But he couldn’t quite make himself believe that was true.
Instead, Eijirou swallowed hard, took one more breath, and forced himself to look down. The noise that escaped him was unlike anything he’d ever heard himself make before, a strange mix between a high pitched whimper and a choked off sob.

Something was /definitely/ wrong.
There below meaty pecs and past precum smothered abs, hanging round and plump and massive beneath his flushed red cock, were the largest balls he’d ever seen.
They squished out from between his thighs like overripe oranges, so full and fat that his dick no longer lay flat against his leg.

He shuddered hard, both horrified and indescribably turned on.
Heat washed across his skin and he watched, spellbound, as his cock hardened with interest; it was wrong, so wrong, but he needed to know what his balls felt like now, needed to feel just how heavy and warm they’d sit in his palms.
And god, he wanted to /squeeze/ them, to see if they were firm and dense or if they’d slosh like water balloons between his fing-

“Fuckin’ answer me, asshat! Are you sick or something?”
Eijirou jumped, and then startled farther at the grinding, scraping screech of his hardened hands against the vanity; he carefully peeled them from the countertop, wincing at the shallow furrows he’d left behind.
He’d already forgotten his roommate was talking to him, too caught up in the sudden lust blooming in his gut to pay attention.

Fucking hell, it hadn’t even been ten minutes and he was already overwhelmingly horny again.
Bakugou tried the door handle and Eijirou shoved his arousal down, scrambling for the right words to answer with. “Yeah, you could say that,” he reached blindly for the shower knob and turned it on.
He needed to cool his head and think straight, “I just, I’m not feeling great and I’m trying not to throw up, so I’m gonna take a cold shower.” He waited a long minute for Bakugou to respond, hoping to god the man believed him.
He really didn’t want to explain that his fucking /dick was sick/.

“Fine, whatever. Don’t pass out and die or some shit,” a pause and then, grudgingly, “Fuckin’ let me know if you need help I guess.”

Eijirou groaned, dick throbbing, and immediately slapped a hand to his mouth.

He’d give anything for Bakugou to join him, to take him up on his offer of help, to push his best friend to his knees and stuff his throat full of his cock until he emptied every last drop from his swollen balls.
Bakugou would look so /good/ all teary eyed and drooling, spit shining his lip ring and chin as he pressed harder, fought to take more, to go deeper.

A whimper broke past Eijirou’s fingers and he dove for the shower.
It was freezing cold and still barely took the edge off the heat thrumming through his veins; there was no fighting back the urge now, he was desperate.
His hands dropped to his nuts to cup and squeeze and tug, imagining all the while that it was Bakugou, that /Katsuki/ was the one fondling his aching balls. They spilled out of his palms, pulsing madly, and he would swear they were filling before his very eyes, +
hot and heavy and so incredibly full.

Whatever panic he’d felt earlier was gone, replaced now with the all consuming need to cum. He grabbed for the shower nozzle and nearly broke it off the wall in his haste to shove it against his sac.
Pleasure bloomed in his groin and he writhed on a punched out moan, bent nearly double as he fought to catch his breath against the sensation. The pressure and vibration was maddening and delicious and not nearly enough.
He pulled on his nipples until they were stiff and puffy, teased at his still sensitive rim, fisted his cock furiously and /still/ there was no relief.

Just the endless, ever growing /need/.
Eventually, Eijirou gave up.

He panted ragged and furious as he shivered under the icy water. It was clear to him now, he’d been quirked with something; probably the same something Bakugou had alluded to at dinner.
If that was the case, there was a chance he’d find his symptoms in the Quirk Registry System. He hoped so at least; he wasn’t sure he could handle explaining everything to a quirk specialist right now.
Resigned, he set about cleaning the last traces of sweat and pre and lube from his skin.

He’d call in sick in the morning.


Have I mentioned how much I appreciate all y'all? Cause I really do. You guys make my sharky heart happy. 💜🦈

The morning brought with it… challenges.

Eijirou’d managed a halfway convincing phone call with Fatgum, but there was no way he was going to get off the hook for calling in sick on such short notice; +
at some point, he was going to have to explain that he’d been hit with a fucking sex quirk.

It wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to.
He dropped his phone onto his stomach and groaned at his bedroom ceiling, adamantly ignoring the twinge of heat in his groin at the small movement, and debated whether or not it was worth the effort of getting out of bed and making breakfast.
There was /no way/ he was going to let Bakugou see him though, not like this, so it looked like he’d be waiting another hour anyways, breakfast be damned.

He needed to distract himself from the simmering arousal swirling in his gut, but fuck it was difficult.
Any little twitch or shift of his legs sent the most frustratingly delicious friction sparks across his swollen balls. Every few minutes he’d forget not to move and accidentally stretch or readjust and have to breathe through the flare of pleasure until he could focus again.
It didn’t help that he could hear Bakugou pacing about the apartment, no doubt getting ready for his own day of work.

Eijirou tried to ignore him, tried to focus on researching his symptoms in the quirk directory pulled up on his phone, +
but his thoughts continually shifted back to his bombshell blonde roommate; thoughts that, against his better judgement, kept spiraling into hornier and hornier territory.
When he heard the shower flick on, he didn’t even try to stop himself from imagining Bakugou wet and naked and slippery with soap; how the water would cascade down his chest and stomach; how his muscles would flex and pull as he washed.
Did he pay special attention to the various scars he’d earned over the years, or the little grenade tattoo on his hip?

Maybe he would stroke himself off beneath the spray when he was done, a hand on the tile as he panted and scowled in the way only Bakugou could.
Eijirou didn’t notice his own fingers feathering across his sac until he gripped a bit too hard and let out a deep, chest rattling moan.

He pulled back like he’d been burned, immediately flushing red at his inability to control himself; +
it was like being a damn teenager all over again.

As if to spite him, his dick twitched where it lay against his abs, half chubbed and just /begging/ for his attention.

“Fuck it, that’s it.”
Eijirou kicked the comforter off of his legs and stumbled to his feet, hissing through his teeth at the shock of his thighs rubbing and squeezing his fat balls as he marched to his dresser.
Thankfully he’d done laundry at the beginning of the week, but still, there weren’t many options as far as shorts or boxers went that would fit over his swollen manhood.
The best he could find were a pair of black dolfin running shorts that he’d accidentally ordered two sizes too large.

He slipped them on carefully, gingerly readjusting everything until he was more or less covered, +
and peeked into the mirror hanging on the back of the bedroom door.

It looked like he was smuggling a fruit basket in his shorts, but whatever; there wasn’t much he could do about it until he figured out which quirk he was dealing with.
His phone blipped from the bed, and then chimed a few more times as he shuffled awkwardly to fetch it. A string of messages from Bakugou sat waiting for him.

Bakubro, 8:47am: hey
Bakubro, 8:47am: made you breakfast
Bakubro, 8:47am: since you’re sick or whatever
Bakubro, 8:48am: it’s just miso soup and oyakodan
Bakubro, 8:48am: don’t fucking die while i’m on patrol

Eijirou smiled down at his phone and typed back a quick thank you, complete with flexing hearts for good measure.
Trust Bakugou to turn his whole shitty morning around with just a few words, and, apparently, breakfast.

It made his heart twist with a kind of melancholic happiness, though; +
Bakugou was his best friend, no matter how much Kaminari and Sero wanted the title, but he wasn’t sure there’d ever be more to him and Bakugou than that. They’d known each other for over seven years, +
and had lived together for four of them, but they’d never pushed past that friendship boundary.

And yeah, Bakugou said and did nice things for him that he’d never do for anyone else, but that was just part of being best friends and roommates.

Eijirou frowned at the phone in his hand, suddenly not so sure.

He wanted so, /so/ badly to take that last step with Bakugou, to be partners in literally every aspect of their lives, but whether that was something Bakugou wanted or not, he just didn’t know.
His stomach growled at him, seemingly woken by the mention of food, and Eijirou put away his phone.

Horny and hungry was not a great mindset for thinking about deep relationship questions.
He waited an extra minute just to be sure Bakugou was gone before slowly making his way to the kitchen. Every step was maddening, both frustrating and deliciously erotic, and he was sweating like he'd run a marathon by the time he sank into a chair at the tiny kitchenette table.
True to Bakugou's word, there was a bowl of miso soup, oyakodon, and coffee waiting for him. The chicken was even diced into smaller than usual cubes so Eijirou could eat it without worrying about chewing it with his less than normal teeth.

It was ridiculously sweet, +
and set Eijirou's mind buzzing with thoughts all over again.

Instead of thinking too hard about it, he set up his phone to do more research and dug in.
An hour later, he had his answer.

A woman by the name of Moto Saiua had recently been flagged in the directory for inappropriate quirk usage. Her ability was marked as non-dangerous, but caution was recommended.
She'd popped up with a string of small robberies and petty theft charges, but that was nothing unusual. What was unusual was her quirk.

She'd named it Edge.
From the little information available in her biography, the quirk was supposedly able to affect one's libido. It was said to cause "an inability to find completion" which Eijirou snorted at.
On top of that, it could last up to four days, and though there were no lasting side effects, victims described the event as "mentally and physically exhausting".

There wasn't much else written, but the photo on file did ring familiar.
Eijirou shoved his phone away and groaned, already ready for the day to be over. If what he'd read was accurate, he hadn't even gone a full twenty four hours yet. He had no idea how he was going to make it a full four days at the rate he was... growing.
He stared down at his lap and the quite frankly comical bulge in his shorts and chewed on his lip. Messing around again wasn't going to get him anywhere, and from the sounds of it, would just make things worse, but damn if a good jacking didn't sound perfect right then.
Eijirou flexed his thighs and watched the fabric of his shorts pull tight, eyelids fluttering at the light pressure against his groin.

"Shit, no!" he shouted, pushing away from the table and standing. He grabbed his dishes and stomped to the sink to wash them, +
skin flushed and dick half hard.

He didn't know if the frustration he felt was at himself or the situation, but it didn't matter. There was no way he was going to spend the whole day feeling himself up when it was just going to make him that much hornier.
Eijirou spent the rest of the morning and afternoon furiously ignoring the throbbing of his cock and the aching of his balls as he did chores.

It was brutal.

He'd never wanted to cum so bad in his life.
By three o'clock, he was out of things to clean, dinner was already prepped and ready to pop in the oven, and he'd given up trying to watch a movie. He managed about half an hour of video games before even that wasn't distracting enough.
Or rather, he was tired of dying each time his dick would twitch and bead with pre and otherwise render him incapable of paying attention.

He flopped back on the couch and pulled at his hair, groaning his frustration at the whole situation.
"Fuck it all." he growled, wrenching the waistband of his shorts down enough to wiggle himself free. He palmed his balls roughly, tugging them until the line between pleasure and pain blurred and all he could feel was the /intensity/ of it all.
They were so fucking full, the skin of his sac pulled tight as he rolled them in his hands. They squished beautifully when dug a little harder, sagging between his fingers with a heavy, liquid weight.
He could honest-to-god /feel/ them sloshing.

The needy whine he let out was obscene, one hand flying to his dick to stroke it fast and hard in a desperate attempt to overwhelm the quirk and finally fucking cum.
He planted his feet and arched his back and chased that building pressure in the base of his groin like a man possessed, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide, chest heaving.

It was right there, he knew it, he could feel that thin thread just waiting to snap.
And then the front door opened.


Top of the thread!


Ch. 2 has been edited and added to Ao3!

Katsuki was no idiot.

Loud, tempestuous, and bullheaded, sure, but stupid he most certainly was not.

He’d woken early, earlier than normal even, and spent a long hour in bed piecing together the clues Kirishima had strung out for him the night before.
It was pretty obvious his best friend had been hit with a quirk, and, considering his odd behavior and the villain encounter Katsuki’d had, it didn’t take a genius to pin down just what he’d been quirked /with/.
Katsuki put in a call to his agency, informed them that he was switching to patrol that morning, made Kirishima breakfast, and headed out to find the woman that had “done the manliest hero a favor.”
Not even two hours into his shift, he got a request to come restrain a pair of thieves robbing a nearby jewelry store. Lo and behold, one of the villains stuffing gaudy necklaces into a duffel bag was none other than the same woman he’d expected to spend the next days hunting.
He took both robbers down with practiced ease.

“You’re Moto Saiua, yeah?” Katsuki growled, propping the woman up against the storefront next to her unconscious partner.
She smiled at him and tipped her head back against the glass, laughing quietly to herself as she readjusted her cuffed hands. “I am. How’s Red Riot coming along, hmm?”

“That’s none of your damn business.”
“Oh isn’t it?” she asked, sliding her gaze across Katsuki’s body like she could see right through his clothes, “I’m pretty sure I made it my business yesterday.”
Katsuki dropped to a squat in front of her and stabbed his finger in her face, watching her smile fall as trepidation flit across her features. “Listen here, asshole. You have three minutes to tell me every fucking detail of your quirk before backup arrives to take you in.
You quirked my best friend and I do /not/ take fucking kindly to that, understood?”

She nodded quickly, eyes wide, and sank back against the window as if it might protect her. “I hit him with a full dose. Figured he was a big dude, he could handle it.”
Moto swallowed hard, trying to look anywhere but at Katsuki’s enraged face, “He uh, he should be pretty deep in the effects by now.”

“Would your quirk have messed with his head?”

Katsuki scoffed and popped a thinly muted explosion in his hand. “You fucking heard me. Does it mess with the mind?”

Moto shook her head quickly. “No, no, just his uh, just his libido. He’s probably horny as hell, but that’s all.”
"Good. Now tell me how it works."

By the time the local authorities arrived, Katsuki had a plan. If all went well, he'd finally get to ruin Eijirou like he'd long dreamed.

He just had to make it through the last few hours of patrol first.

Now, normally Katsuki would send a quick text that he was heading home; a little "I'm still alive, hungry as fuck though" or something as a courtesy.

It was a habit he and Kirishima had adopted years ago when the fear of dying on the job got to be too much to handle.
Tonight though... well, Katsuki figured he could make an exception.

He slipped his key into the lock quietly, forcing himself to breathe normally and not let his nerves or excitement get the better of him.
Katsuki swung the door open and threw out any stupid notions about acting normal.

Kirishima, fucking gorgeous mountain of a man Kirishima, lay spread out across their beat up old couch like a damn renaissance painting of ecstasy and desire.
His skin was flush and shiny with sweat, muscles tense with exertion as he flexed and bowed up and off the cushions, mouth wide as he panted hard into the stillness of their apartment.
Katsuki's knees nearly buckled beneath him as he watched the man he'd long desired chasing his pleasure, his rough hands stripping across his fat cock and- "Fuck..."

Kirishima froze, made eye contact for half a second, and fucking rolled off the couch.
He'd made it halfway to his bedroom before Katsuki kicked himself into motion and tackled him to the floor.

They wrestled across the living room rug until familiarity overrode panic and Kirishima finally allowed himself to be pinned, +
hair a mess around his face as he breathed hard against the cool tile.

Katsuki flexed his fingers against Kirishima's neck and bent back wrist, testing if the man had truly conceded or was simply waiting to buck and run.

"Shut up, I've got shit to say."
To his credit, Kirishima bit his tongue and nodded.

Katsuki sat back and breathed, running his hands down Kirishima's broad shoulders while he sorted through his words. "You're fuckin' stunning, you know that Ei?"
Kirishima choked on a laugh that rolled over into a nervous sob and Katsuki frowned.

"I mean it. It's not fuckin' fair. I see you every damned day and it takes everything in me not to nail you to the wall."
A shiver ran down his spine and Katsuki smirked, splaying his palms against Kirishima's shoulder blades in an effort to ground them both. "I want to kiss your dumb smile off your face every morning. I want to curl up next to you at night until we sweat off the damn sheets.
I want to sit on our tiny ass balcony and stare at the stars and then make you moan so loud our neighbors file a complaint." he rocked his hips against Kirishima's ass, careful not to press him into the floor as he made his point, "I want everything you'd give me Eijirou."
There was a beat of heavy breath silence before Kirishima stuttered out a watery, "Fuck."


"You mean that? All of it?"

Katsuki rolled his eyes and waited.
And waited.
And then Eijirou laughed. "Shit, fuck- Of course you do. That was the sappiest thing you've ever said."

"Fuck off."

"No way. You like me."
Katsuki rolled his hips harder, dragging his half hard cock against Eijirou's ass in a decidedly /not/ petty move. "Shut up idiot."

"Nope. Not gonna. Katsuki likes me."
He peeked out from behind his mess of hair and grinned wide and stupid. "I like you, too. A lot. Like, a lot a lot."

Katsuki blushed hard and fast and scowled around the weird ache in his chest. "Fuck you."

"Kinda wish you would."

They both froze that time.
They stared at one another for a long moment before scrambling to their feet to stumble to their nearest bedroom. True to his word, Katsuki pinned Eijirou to the hallway wall to finally, /fucking finally/ kiss him, and then they were off again,
kicking open Eijirou's bedroom door as Katsuki peeled his tank top off and chucked it god-knows-where. Eijirou's hands were on him immediately, fluttering over his ribs and down his sides to his sweats. He hesitated only a moment before sliding his fingers under the band.
Katsuki pushed him back, against the bed, and kissed him hard, groaning into the feel of Eijirou's calloused fingers across the meat of his ass. He allowed himself a moment to savor the sensation before knocking Eijirou flat on his back.
Eijirou looked up at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky and it damn near kicked the air from Katsuki's lungs.

He was gorgeous; stupidly, unfairly gorgeous, packed with muscle, broad shouldered and soft across the middle.
And goddamn.

Katsuki knew he was getting a gift today, but even he wasn't prepared for the true extent of Eijirou's quirked arousal.

I gotta run for a couple minutes but I swear I'm coming right back!


Sorry all, I’ll post the rest tomorrow when I’m not throwing up.

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