The floorboards of the cabin were cold under Izuku’s knees, the pine scent drowned out by sweat and sex. He braced his hands on the edge of the unmade bed, his back arched, his head hanging between his shoulders. “Please, Daddy,” he breathed, the words ragged. “The other one. Claim all of me.”

Katsuki stood behind him, his own breathing a low, controlled rumble. He dragged a broad thumb through the slick mess dripping from Izuku’s swollen cunt, then pressed it against his son’s tight, untouched hole. “This what you want, nerd? You want my cock in this virgin ass?”

“Yes.” Izuku pushed back against the pressure, a whine catching in his throat. “Need it. Need you to wreck me everywhere.”

Katsuki spat into his palm, the sound crude in the quiet room. He worked the wetness into Izuku with one thick finger, slow and inexorable. The stretch burned. Izuku gasped, his knuckles whitening on the bedsheet. “Hurts,” he whispered.

“It’s supposed to.” Katsuki’s voice was gravel. He added a second finger, scissoring them carefully, watching the way Izuku’s body clenched and fluttered. “You asked for it. Now take it.”

He withdrew his fingers. The head of his cock, thick and blunt, pressed where they had been. The heat of it was a brand. Izuku shuddered, full-body. “Daddy—”

Katsuki didn’t answer with words. He pushed.

The breach was brutal, a splitting, burning fullness that stole the air from Izuku’s lungs. He cried out, a raw, broken sound that echoed off the cabin walls. Katsuki froze, sheathed to the hilt, his own breath hitching. “Fuck. So damn tight.”

Izuku sobbed, tears dripping onto the sheet. “Move. Please, move.”

Katsuki pulled back and thrust in again, setting a hard, punishing rhythm. The slap of skin filled the room, a wet, filthy counterpoint to Izuku’s escalating screams. Each drive punched a moan from his chest, each withdrawal left him hollow and aching for more. “Your ass is mine,” Katsuki grunted, his hands digging into Izuku’s hips. “Say it.”

“Yours!” Izuku wailed, his voice shattered. “My ass is yours, Daddy, only yours—!”

Outside, footsteps crunched on the gravel path, steady and concerned. They didn’t hear.

Eijiro Kirishima stopped at the cabin door, his fist raised to knock. The muffled cries from inside made his blood run cold. Not pain. Something else. His eyes flicked to the small, grimy window beside the door.

He saw. The coach, his best friend, Katsuki, fucking into the slender, trembling form bent over the bed. The green curls he knew. The freckled shoulders. The way Katsuki’s massive hands completely encircled those narrow hips, pulling him back onto each thrust. And between those spread thighs, dripping down onto the floorboards from a swollen, used cunt—a thick, white trickle of come.

Kirishima’s hand fell slowly to his side. He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe. He just watched, the golden retriever sunshine in his eyes dissolving into pure, horrified ice.

Kirishima’s hand moved without his permission, palming the hard, aching line of his own cock through his football sweatpants. He watched, transfixed, as Katsuki drove into that tight, clutching heat, each thrust making Izuku’s smaller body jolt. A fresh pearl of white dripped from Izuku’s used pussy onto the floor. Kirishima’s breath fogged the glass.

Inside, Katsuki’s rhythm faltered, his thrusts growing jagged, deeper. “Gonna fill this ass,” he grunted, his voice raw. “Take it.”

Izuku sobbed, a sound of pure wreckage. “Yes, Daddy, please—”

Katsuki slammed home and froze, a low, animal groan tearing from his throat as he pumped his release deep into his son’s body. His head dropped, his broad back glistening with sweat. For a second, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing.

Then Katsuki’s head lifted. His sharp red eyes, hazy with climax, focused on the grimy window. On the shadowed face pressed against it. They locked onto Kirishima’s wide, horrified stare. Katsuki’s gaze dropped, noticing the distinct bulge in his friend’s pants. A slow, dangerous smirk spread across his wet, satisfied mouth.

He pulled out of Izuku with a wet sound, letting his spent cock hang heavy between his thighs. He didn’t cover himself. He walked, naked and unashamed, directly toward the door. Izuku whimpered, collapsing forward onto the bed, his own hole clenching around emptiness, dripping with his father’s come.

The door swung inward. Katsuki filled the frame, the cool cabin air hitting his hot skin. He looked at Kirishima’s hand, still pressed against his own hardening cock. “Ei.”

Kirishima jerked his hand away as if burned. “Katsuki, I— I was just—”

“Worried. I know.” Katsuki’s voice was a low, knowing rasp. He stepped back, leaving the doorway open. An invitation. A command. “Get in here.”

Eijiro stood frozen on the threshold, the cabin’s warmth and the scent of sex hitting him like a physical wall. Katsuki didn’t wait. He reached out, his hand a vise around Kirishima’s bicep, and yanked him inside. The door slammed shut, the lock clicking with finality.

“Katsuki, man, what the fuck—” Kirishima stammered, his red eyes wide, darting from Katsuki’s naked, formidable form to the wrecked boy on the bed.

Izuku lifted his head, green curls sticking to his damp forehead. He saw Kirishima. A flash of pure, hot shame washed over his face—and then it vanished, replaced by something dark and eager. He slowly, deliberately, spread his trembling legs wider on the messy sheets, his fingers sliding down through the slick mess between them to circle his own clit.

“See?” Katsuki’s voice was a low, triumphant growl. He gestured at his son. “My son’s a little fucking whore. And you want to fuck him.”

“I don’t—” Kirishima choked, but his traitorous cock strained obscenely against his gray sweatpants, the thick outline undeniable.

Katsuki smirked, a cruel, knowing twist of his lips. “Your dick doesn’t lie, Ei. Strip.”

Izuku moaned, his back arching as he touched himself. “Please, Coach Kirishima,” he breathed, his voice wrecked and sweet. “Daddy’s right… I want it. I want both of you.”

Kirishima shook his head, but his hands moved to the waistband of his pants, fingers fumbling. He couldn’t look away from Izuku’s hand, from the glistening, used hole still dripping Katsuki’s come onto the sheet. “This is wrong,” he muttered, but the protest was hollow, swallowed by the thick air.

“It’s already wrong,” Katsuki said, stepping closer to the bed, his own spent cock beginning to thicken again at the sight. “Now get your clothes off. We’re gonna fuck my son together. He wants to be filled everywhere. Don’t you, nerd?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Izuku whined, his hips rolling into his own touch. “Want your friend’s big cock too. Wanna feel you both inside me. Please, I can take it.”

With a strangled sound, Kirishima pushed his sweatpants and briefs down, his own cock springing free—thick, uncut, and ruddy with need. He was every bit as massive as Katsuki, a heavy, girthy weight between his thighs. He stood there, exposed, his breath coming in short pants.

Katsuki’s eyes glinted. “Good. Now get on the bed. You take that pretty mouth first. I’m not done with this ass.” He moved behind Izuku again, his broad hands spreading his son’s cheeks, revealing the pink, stretched hole glistening with his own release. “Still loose for me. Gonna open you up for him next.”

Izuku sobbed in anticipation, his hand moving faster. “Yes, yes, yes…”

Kirishima approached the bed, his movements stiff. Izuku turned his head, green eyes glazed with lust, and opened his mouth, tongue darting out to wet his lips. An invitation. A plea.

“Fuck,” Kirishima whispered, the last thread of his resistance snapping. He climbed onto the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress beside Izuku’s head. He guided the head of his cock to those parted, bruised lips. “Suck, then. Be a good whore.”

Izuku took him in, swallowing him down with a desperate, hungry noise as Katsuki pressed back inside his ass in one smooth, brutal thrust.

Izuku’s throat opened, a wet, desperate heat swallowing Kirishima down to the root. The redhead gasped, his hands flying to tangle in green curls. “Holy shit— he took it all—”

“Told you,” Katsuki grunted, driving his own cock deeper into the tight clutch of Izuku’s ass. “My brat’s a fucking natural.” He watched his son’s throat bulge obscenely around the thick intrusion. “Now fuck it. Don’t be gentle.”

Kirishima’s hips jerked forward instinctively, burying himself to the hilt. Izuku gagged, a wet, choking sound that vibrated through both of them. Saliva dripped from his stretched lips.

“That’s it,” Katsuki urged, his own thrusts becoming punishing, rhythmic shoves. “Fuck his throat like it’s a cunt. He loves it.”

Kirishima’s resolve shattered. He pulled back until just the head remained, then slammed forward again, setting a brutal, shallow pace that made Izuku’s eyes water. Each thrust punched a ragged choke from the boy’s ruined throat.

Izuku’s body convulsed between them, his cunt gushing more slick. He reached a trembling hand down to flick his clit, but Katsuki smacked it away. “No. You take what we give you.”

“He’s gagging so pretty,” Kirishima rasped, his voice thick with awe and horror at his own actions. His thrusts deepened, fucking into that tight, wet sleeve with growing abandon.

Katsuki leaned over Izuku’s back, his lips against his son’s ear. “Hear that, nerd? Coach Kirishima thinks you’re pretty. You gonna be a good little throat whore for him?”

Izuku managed a choked, gurgling moan around the cock stuffing his mouth, his ass clenching wildly around Katsuki’s. His consent was a physical thing, a yielding, eager ruin.

“Fuck, Katsuki,” Kirishima groaned, his hips stuttering. “I’m not— I can’t last—”

“Then don’t,” Katsuki commanded, never breaking his own relentless rhythm. “Fill his stomach. Let him taste you.”

Kirishima’s control snapped. He shoved in one final, deep time, his big body shuddering as he emptied himself down Izuku’s throat with a raw, broken shout.

Izuku swallowed convulsively, his throat working around the pulsing release. When Kirishima finally pulled out, slick and spent, coughing, thick strands of saliva and come connecting his lips to the other man’s softening cock.

Katsuki didn’t stop. He fucked into the clenching, overstimulated heat of his son’s ass, his pace turning frantic. “Look at him, Ei. Look what you did to my boy.”

Kirishima, breathless and dazed, looked. Izuku was a wreck—face flushed and wet, lips swollen, eyes unfocused. A thin trail of Kirishima’s release leaked from the corner of his mouth.

“Now,” Katsuki growled, his hands vise-tight on Izuku’s hips. “You’re gonna watch while I finish wrecking what’s mine.”

Katsuki’s release hit him like a detonation, a deep, guttural roar tearing from his throat as he emptied himself into his son’s ass, his thrusts turning erratic before he stilled, buried to the hilt. He stayed there for a shuddering moment, his cock pulsing inside the clenching heat, before he pulled out with a wet, slick sound.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his own cock still thick and heavy, glistening with a mix of their fluids. He looked down at Izuku’s ruined hole, red and gaping slightly, his come already beginning to seep out. “Look at that. Made a mess of you.”

Izuku whimpered, his body trembling from overstimulation. “Daddy…”

“Not done,” Katsuki said, his voice rough but deliberate. He grabbed Izuku under the arms and hauled him up, pulling the boneless boy into his lap so his chest was flush against Katsuki’s chest. He hooked his arms under Izuku’s thighs, spreading his legs wide, exposing everything—the slick, swollen cunt, the dripping, used ass. “Ei. Get over here.”

Kirishima, still kneeling by the headboard, stared. His gaze was locked on the obscene display, his spent cock twitching against his thigh. “Katsuki, man…”

“You watched,” Katsuki stated, his hands spreading Izuku’s cheeks wider, making the leaking hole pucker. “You came in his mouth. You’re in it now. So fuck him. You get this ass. I’m taking his pussy.”

Izuku moaned, his head lolling back against Katsuki’s shoulder. “Please, Coach Kirishima… want you there too. Feels so empty…”

“Come on,” Katsuki growled, his own renewed hardness pressing against Izuku’s lower stomach. “Fuck my slut son’s ass, Ei. It’s still warm from me.”

With a shaky breath, Kirishima moved. He crawled forward on the mattress, his eyes dark with a mix of horror and hunger. He positioned himself behind Izuku, his big hands settling on the boy’s spread thighs. The head of his thick cock nudged against the slick, stretched entrance.

“It’s… really loose,” Kirishima muttered, a flush creeping up his neck.

“Told you I broke it in,” Katsuki said, his lips against Izuku’s ear. He shifted his hips, guiding his own cock through the wet folds of Izuku’s cunt, not entering yet, just teasing. “Now fill it up.”

Izuku cried out as Kirishima pushed forward. The stretch was different—thicker, blunter than Katsuki’s. His body yielded, the muscle memory of recent violation making the invasion easier, but the sheer girth was overwhelming. Kirishima sank in slowly, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

“Holy fuck,” Kirishima breathed, his hips flush against Izuku’s ass. He was fully sheathed, his cock buried in the hot, tight clutch. “He’s… he’s so hot inside.”

Katsuki smirked, his hand coming down to rub Izuku’s clit in rough circles. “Now me.” He notched his cockhead at Izuku’s other entrance, the pussy dripping and eager. He thrust up, sinking into the wet, velvety heat in one smooth motion.

Izuku screamed. The double penetration was absolute, a fullness that stole his breath. He was split open, stuffed impossibly full, every inch of his lower body occupied by them. His cunt fluttered wildly around Katsuki’s cock; his ass clenched rhythmically around Kirishima’s.

“There we go,” Katsuki grunted, holding himself deep. “Both holes filled. That what you wanted, you greedy brat?”

“Yes! Daddy, yes!” Izuku sobbed, his hands gripping Katsuki’s thighs for anchor. “So full… feels so good…”

Kirishima began to move first, a slow, experimental rock of his hips. The wet slide was audible, a lewd, squelching sound from the well-used hole. “He’s… he’s taking it so good,” he rasped, his own shame eclipsed by sheer sensation.

“Fuck him harder,” Katsuki commanded, and then he began to move too, setting a counter-rhythm that made Izuku’s entire body jolt between them. “Make him feel it.”

They lost all rhythm, all thought, devolving into a brutal, shared rutting. Katsuki’s hips pistoned upward, spearing into the sopping clutch of Izuku’s cunt with a wet, slapping cadence. Kirishima matched him, driving forward with the powerful thrusts of a lineman, his big hands bruising Izuku’s thighs as he slammed into the boy’s ass.

“Fuck! Fuck, he’s… he’s milking me,” Kirishima grunted, his head thrown back, every trace of his sunny demeanor obliterated by raw hunger.

Izuku could only sob, his body a overwhelmed conduit of sensation. His cunt gushed around Katsuki’s cock, his ass burned with the stretch of Kirishima’s, and the combined force of their thrusts rocked him violently between them. “Daddy… Coach… please, don’t stop…”

“You hear that, Ei?” Katsuki snarled, his breath hot and ragged against Izuku’s neck. “My boy’s begging for it. Fucking take him.”

Kirishima’s only answer was a guttural groan, his pace turning punishing. The sound of skin on skin, of wet, crowded flesh, filled the cabin. Izuku’s pussy squelched with each of Katsuki’s drives; his ass made a lewd, sucking noise each time Kirishima pulled back.

“Gonna come,” Kirishima warned, his voice cracking. “Katsuki, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” Katsuki commanded, his own thrusts growing erratic, his control fraying. “Fill his ass. Mark him.”

With a ragged shout, Kirishima froze, burying himself to the hilt as he pulsed inside Izuku’s clenching hole. Izuku screamed, the sensation of being filled with hot release in his ass triggering his own climax. His cunt convulsed wildly around Katsuki’s cock, and he squirted, a hot gush of fluid soaking Katsuki’s stomach and thighs.

The violent clenching of Izuku’s pussy tore the last of Katsuki’s restraint away. He roared, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself deep into his son’s cunt, his cock throbbing with each jet of come.

For a long moment, the only sounds were their harsh, panting breaths and the slow, wet drip of fluids onto the sheets. Kirishima slumped forward, his forehead resting between Izuku’s shoulder blades, his softened cock slipping out with a wet plop.

Katsuki remained seated deep, his arms locked around Izuku’s trembling form. He looked over the boy’s shoulder at his best friend’s dazed, fucked-out expression. “You good, Ei?”

Kirishima blinked slowly, his red eyes hazy. “I… I just…” He looked down at the mess between them, at Izuku’s ruined, dripping holes. A deep flush spread across his face. “Oh, god.”

“Too late for that,” Katsuki said, his voice low and rough. He finally pulled out of Izuku’s cunt, a thick stream of his release following. He guided Izuku’s boneless body down onto the mattress, the boy whimpering at the sensitivity. “Look at him. You’re in it now. All the way.”

Kirishima stared at the proof—his own come leaking from Izuku’s ass, mixing with Katsuki’s from the other hole. His jaw worked. “Inko… your team… fuck, Katsuki, what did we do?”

“We?” Katsuki raised an eyebrow, wiping his cock on the sheet with a casual grimace. “You watched. You fucked. You came. Twice. That’s a ‘we,’ buddy.”

Izuku turned his head on the mattress, his green eyes glazed but focused on Kirishima. “It’s okay, Coach… I wanted it. I wanted you to see.” A slow, sated smile touched his swollen lips. “Did I do good?”

Kirishima stared at Izuku’s sated smile, then at the mess seeping from the boy’s body. His own spent cock lay soft against his thigh, a damning witness. “What did we do?” he whispered again, the words hollow.

“We secured a secret,” Katsuki said, his voice flat and final. He stood up from the bed, his naked body towering over them both. “Look at me, Ei. You don’t get to freak out now. You’re in. You’re fucking in.”

“Inko is my friend,” Kirishima choked out, dragging a hand over his face. “He’s a kid. Your kid.”

“He’s eighteen. And he’s been begging for this for months.” Katsuki’s red eyes were merciless. “You think you’re the noble one here? You came twice watching my son get fucked. You shoved your dick down his throat. You filled his ass. That’s not a bystander. That’s a participant.”

Izuku shifted on the mattress, wincing at the soreness. A fresh trickle of mixed release leaked onto the sheet. “I wanted you to watch, Coach Kirishima. I’m glad it was you.”

“See?” Katsuki gestured at Izuku like presenting evidence. “He’s not traumatized. He’s fucking radiant. You think you corrupted him? He’s been corrupting me.”

Kirishima’s gaze dropped to Izuku’s spent body—the bitten lips, the bruised thighs, the utterly claimed holes. His own arousal, shameful and persistent, coiled low in his gut again. “What… what does this mean?”

“It means you keep your mouth shut.” Katsuki leaned down, bracing his hands on the mattress, crowding into Kirishima’s space. “You looked through that window, and you liked what you saw. You still like it. So you own it. You protect it. This stays between the three of us. Forever.”

“And if I say no?” Kirishima’s defiance was weak, crumbling.

Katsuki’s smirk was a cold, knowing thing. “You say no, and I tell Mina’s parents you’ve been fucking her since she was sixteen. I tell the school board you’ve been dating a student. How long’s it been, Ei? Three years?”

Kirishima’s face drained of color. “You wouldn’t.”

“She just turned eighteen, right? Legal now. Doesn’t make the last two years vanish.” Katsuki’s voice was low, conversational. “We keep each other’s secrets. That’s the deal. You stay quiet about my boy, I stay quiet about yours.”

Eijiro stared at the floorboards, his broad shoulders slumping in defeat. The fight drained out of him, leaving only a heavy, resigned exhaustion. “Yeah,” he rasped, finally meeting Katsuki’s ruthless gaze. “Deal, bro.”

“No hard feelings,” Katsuki said, not a question, his tone permitting no argument. He clapped a heavy hand on Kirishima’s shoulder, a gesture that was both camaraderie and a cage.

“No hard feelings,” Kirishima echoed, the words tasting like ash. He looked past Katsuki to where Izuku lay, watching them with dark, knowing eyes. The boy’s hand drifted down his own stomach, fingers tracing through the sticky mess on his inner thigh. Kirishima’s spent cock gave a weak, traitorous twitch.

“So,” Katsuki said, his voice dropping to a low, conversational rumble. He hadn’t moved his hand from Kirishima’s shoulder. “You wanna go again?”

Kirishima’s breath hitched. He opened his mouth to refuse, to escape, but the protest died. His eyes were locked on Izuku’s fingers, now dipping between his own slick, puffy lips. “Fuck, yes.” he whispered, helpless.

“Yes,” Izuku breathed from the bed, his voice husky and raw. He spread his legs wider, the movement making more of the combined release seep from his reddened hole. “Please, Coach. Daddy. Again.”

They all went three more rounds.