During their third year, Katsuki experiences the greatest fucking orgasm of his /life/- at the hand of a ghost.

He’d never believed in ghosts before, but as he lay writhing on his bed, /alone/, orgasm after orgasm wrung from his limp body, he still has no better explanation. https://twitter.com/theGingerTrekie/status/1380366512083570691

Even years on, he still can't come up with another excuse.

It only happened the one time, but once was /more/ than enough.

He doesn't tell /anyone/ what happened that night- until he drunkenly confesses to it one night to his boyfriend.

He and Eijirou hadn't started dating

until after graduation, so of course he never would have told the redhead before then. He expects Eijirou to be weirded out- maybe concerned of Katsuki's soul or some shit- but Eijirou had stilled, eyes growing wide and cheeks red from more than just the alcohol.

"What?" Katsuki

demands. "What's that look for??"

"Bro," Eijirou breathes, leaning in a little closer, suddenly looking /much/ less inebriated than he did just two minutes ago. "You really..?"

"Yes, fucker," Katsuki snaps, his own cheeks feeling a little hot from embarrassment. "If you're

making fun of me I swear-"

"No, no!" Eijirou insists. "That's not it, I-" he falters, looking a little sheepish. "...The same thing happened to me that night- after we went to the mall."

"Bullshit," Katsuki scowls. He doesn't need Eijirou's lies to comfort him.

"No, babe,

I'm serious!" Eijirou insists. "That night, I went to jerk off like usual and it was like-" he motions to his own body, "someone else was /touching/ me! They- they played with my nips and my junk-" he shakes his head.

"It was so /real/! I always thought maybe-" He falters,

second guessing his words, but Katsuki leans forward brows furrowed.

"Thought what?"

Eijirou takes a deep breath. "What if that psychic you pissed off wasn't just a hoax..? What if she like- did something to us?? Sent some weird spirits or demons or something after us??"

"Bullshit," Katsuki scoffs, leaning back against the couch with his beer in hand. "That psychic was half-baked, at /best/. Could read tarot cards to save her fucking life. I've gotten better readings from my mom's fucking horoscope website."

"But-!"

"No buts," Katsuki waves his

beer at Eijirou. "She couldn't find an ice cube in Antarctica. You expect me to believe she could send fucking /sex demons/ after us?" He scoffs again.

And Katsuki is right. The mall psychic he'd cussed out for giving false readings /was/ harmless; completely full of shit.

But the young teen he'd shouldered out of the way as he stormed off after reading the psychic the riot act hadn't been.

-

Everything really started with Katsuki.

If he'd simply apologized for running into the teen on the sidewalk, nothing would have happened. But Katsuki

doesn't do apologies.

"Watch where the fuck you're walking!!"

See, Hirano could have easily negated the effects of the quirk that were accidentally activated when Katsuki shouldered into him by speaking to him- by saying "Sorry" or "My bad" or "Excuse Me"... but when Katsuki

pulled that, Hirano bit his tongue- literally and figuratively- and left the quirk in effect.

He'd watched Katsuki stride away, not giving Hirano so much as a backwards glance, even when Eijirou nudged him with his shoulder and began to chastise him.

And Hirano had smiled as

he walked away.

Sometimes life has a way of sorting itself out. It's not like his quirk is particularly dangerous, but it's certainly problematic. After touching someone, the very next person /they/ touch becomes linked to them, in the physical sense.

If A gets hurt, B also

gets hurt and vice versa. It's not just pain though- any touch, really, is transmitted between their bond.

And something tells Hirano that leaving the quirk in effect for the twenty-four hours is gonna be even more interesting than anything else that could possibly happen.

-

Saturday nights are /special/ for Eijirou.

He hasn't told anyone before (because who is he /really/ going to tell??) but he has a very high libido.

He jerks off every night, sometimes twice, but it's still not always satisfying. He can go hours sometimes, if he's only

stimulating his dick, but he ends up chaffed and sore by morning.

He'd found out by browsing online that stimulating his prostate could help, and he's always down to try anything once, so he'd stuck a few fingers up his ass once- and his entire world was changed after that.

He doesn't understand why so many guys are against it- having something stimulating his prostate is fucking /amazing/. He comes harder than he has in his entire /life/ with three fingers up his ass and a hand around his cock.

Just before third year started... he bought something

a little /special/.

He had to order it online and have it delivered to his family home, because god forbid someone in the dorms sees the package and gets nosy. At least at home, his parents won't just /open/ his packages like Denki or Mineta will.

He tried it out over New Years

while he had the house to himself and /very quickly/ realized that he can't make this an every day thing.

The plug isn't /huge/, but it's enough to keep him /full/. The bulbous end before the base stays /right/ against his prostate, keeping him constantly stimulated, and that's

not even the best part-

/It vibrates./

Eijirou came again and again-
He screamed himself hoarse as he rode the plug, toes curling in the sheets beneath him and cock leaking near continuously.

When he finally collapsed into the sheets late that night, hips and cock

and lower back aching, balls thoroughly wrung dry, he slept better than he had in /months/.

He paid for it the next morning, though.

He could barely walk through the house without limping, but he didn't regret it for a second.

He brought the plug back to the dorms with him,

unconcerned about the noise he would make since the walls are soundproofed, but considering how much trouble he has the day after, he /definitely/ can't use it when they have training or classes the next day.

And it just so happens to be on a Saturday when Katsuki asks him to

run to the bookstore with him after classes. They end up taking longer than Katsuki had planned, and then have a run in with some kind of "psychic" while trying to get out of the shopping center, so by the time they get back to the dorms, Katsuki is in a foul mood.

Eijirou would die before he tells Katsuki, but he's really fucking hot when he's irritated.

When he retires to his dorm that night, he's already got a low buzz of arousal under his skin from anticipation. He strips off his shirt and lies back against the pillows after locking

the bedroom door, hands wandering slowly to start.

He pinches his nipples once or twice, just rough enough to make his cock twitch, before skimming his palms over his stomach. He closes his eyes and lets himself fall into his favorite fantasy:

Katsuki kneeling above him, that

cocky smirk on his face, red eyes dark with lust. He'd be teasing, Eijirou knows. Katsuki would never just /give/ him anything.

He pushes away the guilt that tries to bubble up as he imagines his best friend's hand skating over his body, sliding down the front of his basketball

shorts, wrapping around the base of his cock.

As long as he can keep his big mouth shut, he can still be friends with his best bro. Katsuki doesn't need to know who he thinks about when he fucks into his fist at night.

With the fresh image of Katsuki's irritated frown in his

mind, he's hard with the barest of frictions. He bites his bottom lip as he slips his shorts down his thighs, exposing himself to the empty room, and spits in his hand.

He has lube in the bedside drawer, but with how much he leaks..?

He won't even need the lube.

Sharp teeth sink into his bottom lip as he begins stroking quicker, falling into his favorite fantasies, letting himself rut up into his closed fist. He's gonna come in a matter of minutes, he knows, but that's alright.

This is just the appetizer- just to take the edge off.

He rubs his thumb through the mess of pre-come spilling down his shaft, tightens his grip and twists around the base, and in a matter of minutes, he's spilling into his hand, come seeping between his fingers and spilling onto his stomach.

He takes a second to catch his breath,

chest rising and falling heavily, before bringing slick fingers down to press at his entrance.

It's only been a few days since he's played with himself, but he's still so tight. He should probably start with just one finger, just to be safe, but Eijirou is impatient.

He slips

two fingers into himself, hissing at the slight burn, and spreads his legs a little further apart. He presses in deep before spreading them wide, making circles and avoiding his prostate. When he feels his muscles begin to loosen enough, he slips in a third finger as his other

hand fumbles with the bedside drawer.

He lets out a low groan when he /finally/ allows himself to press against his prostate. He presses insistently against the bundle of nerves for a long minute, making his toes curl and back begin to bow-

Only to remove his fingers with a

slick noise before he can push himself too far.

He groans, irritated at the loss of sensation, even though he did it to himself, and quickly rolls over onto his stomach to get his plug ready.

He drizzles a quick bit of lube on it, enough to slick the way, but not so much that

he won't feel the stretch... he likes the little bit of a burn, the stretch. It feels a little more forced that way.

It feels a little more like what Katsuki would do.

Eijirou pushes up onto his knees, leaving his chest flat against the mattress as he brings the plug around to

his ass, pressing against his stretched rim. With a little bit of force, the plug slips past his rim, and Eijirou keeps /pushing/, doesn't stop until the plug is fully seated inside him, his insides fluttering around the solid girth.

He groans low in his throat, gripping the

pillow under his cheek with one hand, the other fumbling with the small switch on the base of the plug.

Eijirou skips the lowest two settings, settling firmly on the third of five levels, and cries out as the device immediately begins quaking inside him, tumbling against his

prostate, making his cock twitch beneath spread thighs. He lowers his hips to the mattress and begins grinding into the cotton sheets, unwilling to touch himself just yet- but after a solid minute of humping and grinding, he gives in, shoving one hand between his body and the

mattress. He wraps his hand around his cock, bucking into the tight, slick hole, a near steady stream of deep groans and breathy moans spilling past bruised lips.

He spills for a second time on his bed sheets, and it's still not enough.

He lifts onto his knees immediately,

shoving a wadded up pillow between spread thighs, and sits down. The pillow forces the plug in deeper, shoves the vibrating plug harder against his still twitching insides, and Eijirou curses. "Fuck!"

His cock is still twitching with aftershocks, chest heaving and ass clenching

rhythmically around the plug, but he needs /more/.

He starts up a hard and fast pace, one hand resting on the mattress behind him, supporting his weight as he rides the hard silicone toy, the other holding his cock steady, preventing it from slapping painfully against his

lower abdomen.

Eijirou jolts suddenly, a surprised cry ripping it's way out of his throat and eyes flying open wide when he feels someone twist his nipples roughly.

He stills completely on the pillow, plug in as deeply as possible, and tries to figure out what's happening

to him, but his brain can't seem to process anything past the fog of lust and need and desperation and the only thing his traitorous brain can say is "What if Bakugou-"

and the thought of Katsuki tugging roughly on Kirishima's nipples as he rides him is what has Eijirou

trembling through another orgasm, this one feeling twice as intense as the last.

He has to take a breather after that, and collapses forward onto the pillows, fingers quickly finding the switch on the base of his plug and flipping it to a low hum.

It keeps him

stimulated, but not so worked up that he can't think about anything.

...That was weird.

He's /never/ imagined something so hard he /felt/ it before.

Maybe this is a sign that it's time for him to either man up and admit his feelings to Katsuki or find something else to fuel

his fantasies.

He can't go back to just regular porn stars now, not after having known Katsuki, but surely if he looks hard enough, he can find someone on the internet who looks similar?

Someone with a loud mouth and a short temper. Someone broad chested, with thick fingers

and-

Eijirou chokes on his spit when a hand wraps around his sack, massaging his balls. He has to throw both his own hands up above his head, /just/ to make sure he isn't fondling himself while imagining Katsuki again, but both hands are accounted for this time.

Some/thing/ is

groping him.

Massaging his sack, pressing against his taint, slipping into his already stretched out hole-

"Ah!!" Eijirou cries out, gripping the pillows tightly. The finger pushes in deeper, wiggling around the plug, pressing it harder against his prostate, and Eijirou

lets out another loud cry, body going stiff.

...Is there a /ghost/ in the dorms??

A second finger is prying its way into his hole and Eijirou's eyes roll back, mind officially shutting down as he feels a second hand begin striping his dick furiously.

The orgasm that's ripping from his core leaves his thighs trembling... and he didn't even lift a finger.

Katsuki takes full advantage of the sound proofing in the dorms. Instead of doing his homework with headphones on, he blares his "trashy music", as his mother calls it, as loud as he wants while he solves equations and shit.

No one can hear his music, and he can't hear anyone

else bitching; it's one of his favorite parts of the dorms, honestly.

He's completely focused on the problems in front of him when he feels an odd tickle against his collarbone. He swats at it, distracted, but jolts when something /pinches/ his nipples.

He flings himself out

of desk chair, wide eyed, and looks around the room. The pinching sensation comes again, and Katsuki looks down at his chest, heart hammering in his chest. He can feel hands sliding down his body- over his abs and down the cut of his hips- into his shorts and-

"Whatthefuck-"

Katsuki gasps, feeling a hand grip the base of his cock. He swallows hard, doubling over to rest his hands on his desktop, staring at the scattered papers on his desk with wide, unseeing eyes.

The hand is moving slowly, teasingly- just barely enough friction to get Katsuki to

respond-

/Fuck/, he's responding to it.

What the fuck /is/ it??

The movements stop for a moment, but Katsuki remains still, still leery. With a deep, shaky inhale, he straightens up, hand flying out to pause the music on his laptop-

"Fuck!" He hisses, leaning over the desk

once more when the hand returns, tighter this time. He feels teeth against his bottom lip, even with his mouth open, inhaling and exhaling raggedly as the hand twists and gropes, thumb rubbing over the tip and dragging its way back down.

His legs tremble when the hand squeezes

his base tightly, and Katsuki is almost full mast in his sweat pants now, the imagined (invisible??) hand stroking him like his life depends on it.

"Shit," Katsuki curses, letting his forehead thunk against the desk when the fingers pinch his tip before sliding back down-

It

only lasts for a few minutes, but the sensations are intense, and Katsuki finds himself thrusting into the sensations- but all at once, it stops, a burst of pleasure rushing through his body, and Katsuki's knees buckle, sending him tumbling to the floor, panting.

Did he- come??

No, definitely not.

Katsuki's brow furrows as he carefully pats the straining erection through his pants.

He's still as hard as a rock, pre-come leaking through his underwear and staining the fabric of his sweatpants, but not nearly enough to be ejaculate. He

doesn't feel any of the lingering waves of pleasure like he should with an orgasm, so what the actual fuck??

He lays there a moment longer, still trying to catch his breath and sort his thoughts- but something probing against his ass has him jolting upright.

"Are you fucking-"

His words are swallowed by a strangled cry.

Katsuki's fingers dig into the plush carpet beneath him, tears stinging the corners of his eyes as invisible fingers force their way into parts of himself he's never even explored on his own. He takes deep, shuddering breaths,

trying to calm is racing heart- trying to grab onto /one/ solid thought, but nothing makes sense- nothing makes sense and he can't figure out why the /fuck/ this is happening to him-

The fingers move deeper, spreading and twisting and probing and Katsuki tries to squirm away

from the feeling, but no matter where or how he moves, the fingers remain. He's almost managed to crawl to his bed, desperately trying to convince himself that he's fallen asleep at his desk and is having a nightmare- but his whole body stiffens when the fingers press against

his prostate.

They're merciless, curling and rubbing and torturing Katsuki's prostate. He grits his teeth, refusing to cry out, even as his cock throbs, pre-come flowing freely, soaking his sweat pants.

The odd feeling and discomfort has shifted completely into pleasure and

he /loathes/ it- the fact that some fucking /ghost/ is trying to make him cream his pants-

He refuses to give in- but the pleasure is building, a coil winding in his lower abdomen, and even as he finally lets out a choked, bitten off cry, preparing to feel the rush of un-needed

pleasure coursing through his veins-

The fingers disappear.

Katsuki can't believe it. He snarls, blinking away tears of frustration as yet a /second/ orgasm is ripped away from him.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" he shouts at the empty room.

He's pissed off, now.

He'd been concerned and disturbed a minute ago, but now he's been cock-blocked /twice/ by some non-existent being and he's not having it.

"You think you get to fucking toy with me??" Katsuki spits, pushing up onto his hands and knees, ignoring the slight tremor in his muscles.

He should really be more concerned about figuring out /why/ this is happening to him- figuring out who the fuck is playing with his body- but it's not like he can just /waltz/ through the dorms with a hard-on and come stained sweatpants.

So he shoves his sweatpants and boxers

down to mid thigh, and wraps a hand around his cock- just as something /thick/ forces its way inside him.

All the air in Katsuki's lungs is forced out of him. He's gaping at the wall across from him, vision blurring and ass burning.

His hand falls away from his cock, gripping

the comforter in front of him like a life-line as the object pushes in further, spreads him open /wider/.

His lungs /burn/.

It's only when he's going lightheaded that he remembers to breathe and begins gulping down air like a man drowning.

The thing finally stops pushing

into him, and Katsuki thinks maybe he's getting a moment to adjust, but suddenly, the thing is /vibrating/, and Katsuki can't bite back his cries anymore.

Not even a gentle buzz-

Whatever invisible object is inside him is /thrashing/, grinding against his prostate with every shudder, making Katsuki let out a continuous stream of breathless cries and cracked moans as he writhes.

Tears of over-stimulation and frustration

are building, burning, blurring his vision-

The stretch was painful and he aches so deep inside-

But it's /good/.

The constant, furious buzz against his prostate and the gently push of /something/ against his cock has his jaw falling slack, most of the fight draining out of

him-

And then it's fingers- a tight grip around his cock- and he's crying out sharply again, curling in on himself, dragging the comforter off his bed and into the floor with him. He buries his face in the orange fabric, muffling his shouts as another wave of ecstasy hits him-

bringing with it his own orgasm.

His eyes roll back, drool slipping down his chin as he clenches around nothing- yet /something/- the vibrations never stopping.

He doesn't have even a moment to catch his breath before the thing is being shoved in /deeper/, forcing another

broken cry from Katsuki.

Still vibrating, the object is being forced in and out of Katsuki's already over-stimulated body- fucking Katsuki without a single care, forcing choked gasps and bitten off cries past pink, spit-slick lips, only partially muffled by the thick comforter.

He feels the hand around his cock- simply holding him, not stroking, and the pleasure is building inside him again, stronger this time; the second orgasm in a row is always more powerful, he knows, but he's not thinking about that.

He's not thinking about much of anything,

honestly- until he shifts on the carpet and the fabric of his shirt catches over his hardened nipples... and then he wonders.

It's not like his /own/ hands are doing anything.

With the invisible thing still hammering into his ass and huge, invisible hand holding onto his dick,

both his hands are free to do anything he wants.

He's never tried playing with his own nipples when he masturbates- but tonight is obviously the night to try it out. Reddened cheek still smooshed against the comforter, Katsuki rucks up his shirt, takes both pebbled nipples

between his fingers, and /twists/.

The feeling has his eyes fluttering shut, breath catching in his throat, and the object in his ass stills, as deeply inside Katsuki as it can go, forcing another low groan out of the blond.

A wave of pleasure rips through him, but much like

the first time, it doesn't /feel/ like his own.

It's not an orgasm- he hasn't come- his cock is still hard-

But the vibration inside him suddenly decreases, stuttering to a near halt. Compared to the force they were stirring him up with before, this hardly feels like anything,

and the anger is back again-

How many fucking times is this ghost going to bring him /right to the edge/ just to /deny/ him??

/It's not fucking fair./

He sniffs, ignoring the furious, embarrassed tears that slip down his cheeks as he trails one hand down to massage his sack.

He bites his bottom lip, eyes falling closed as he cradles his swollen testicles for a minute before reaching further. He presses a finger against his taint, hesitating before finally reaching back to probe at his hole-

His /empty/ hole.

It's so fucking weird.

He can feel something inside him- /vividly/ at that- but when he presses his finger against his entrance, it's tight. There's nothing /physically/ inside him, yet he can still feel the dull buzz of /something/.

Breathing heavily, Katsuki forces one finger inside, biting down on

the comforter to muffle his pained noise. He slips in a second finger much too fast, and he can't stifle the small cry that brings out, his cock jerking again as he bumps against his prostate.

With his fingers like this, the vibrations, though minuscule, are right against his

prostate- his fingers add extra pressure, and with a low, guttural cry, Katsuki is coming again, seed spattering the carpet below him and potentially his comforter.

He pulls his fingers free of himself before collapsing to the floor, thoroughly wrung out.

His body is buzzing,

his head spinning, and he's just had the best orgasm in his entire life.

The vibration finally ceases, the thick object removing(??) itself from his body, and Katsuki fights back another groan.

He doesn't let his guard down immediately, though.

After a solid minute with no

more "freaky ghost shit", he finally allows himself to exhale, shoulders slumping in relief.

He yanks the comforter the rest of the way off the bed, throwing it over his half naked body, and closes his eyes, too fucking tired to do anything else.

His desk lamp is still on on his desk, his half finished homework beside it, but Katsuki ignores it.

He doesn't think he can move another fucking inch.

His brain is mush, his body is limp, and he can't keep his eyes open another minute.

He's gonna have a lot of shit to think about when he wakes up in the morning, though.

-end-