The best part of that video is that the owner found the ORIGINAL plush later on the beach and took another video with it after their grandmother stitched it back up
yuuka hirasaka is the type of girl to⌠show a gentler side of herself when in your presence. to others, yuuka can look like a hardened girl ready for action â which in a way, is true, but her heart is truly kind. she has confidence in herself and her abilities, which allows her to present herself as a responsible and sociable person. where others may receive more blunt answers from her, you get the gentle touches and soft kisses.
yuuka hirasaka is the type of girl to⌠carry your things for you, despite you being fully capable of doing so yourself. she knows this, yet she continues to do so. one of her worries is that you overstrain yourself with studying too hard or staying up so late, so she insists that she take some of the physical burdens off your shoulders. it is the least she can do, so donât worry about her. she wants to do this for you.
yuuka hirasaka is the type of girl to⌠give you a quick peck on the cheek as her goodbyes to you. itâs a part of her nature to be a little bit of a tease, but it is also a way to show you that the two of you wonât be apart for long by leaving you with something that makes you want more.
yuuka hirasaka is the type of girl to⌠listen intently as you talk about your favorite things. learning the ins and outs of the topics that you love warms her heart, especially after listening to how passionate you sound as you rant about them. and she does her best to remember these facts you tell her about, occasionally making a reference to it to make you smile.
yuuka hirasaka is the type of girl to⌠love your scars and âimperfectionsâ. scars are marks on a persons body that tell a story without them even having to speak, telling stories of bravery or the will to keep going. yuuka herself has a scar on her forehead she received from a judo match, which she wears with pride. some tend to be shameful or afraid of their own scars, their own bodies. she does not want this to be the same for you, so she offers reassurances and kisses to your âimperfectionsâ in hopes you will come to adore them as much as she does.
yuuka hirasaka is the type of girl to⌠teach you a few judo moves so you can defend yourself. self-defense is a very useful skill to have, especially when youâre in an unknown world with who knows who. judo is a gentler form of self-defense, being based on an opponents momentum rather than sheer brute force alone â which makes it a useful martial art to teach you. and yuuka is quite the good teacher! sheâs patient and does her best not to overwhelm you with too much information at once. while she can defend you herself, learning such a skill will help you protect yourself when she canât be around.
yuuka hirasaka is the type of girl to⌠encourage you to be yourself unapologetically. back in her own world, she had been told to stop competing in judo because she was a girl. no matter what gender, species, or order you are born in â all should have equal opportunities to do as they please. when you are feeling insecure, yuuka will give you a push to continue doing what you love. after all, your happiness is not for the sake of others. it is for the sake of yourself.
yuuka hirasaka is the type of girl to⌠be the perfect person to relax with, being quite the easygoing girl. she is a person to be rather responsible and take care of what needs to be done, but she knows when itâs time to relax. as the prefect of ramshackle dorm, being crowleyâs little errand runner can be demanding. which is why, at the end of the day, laying in your arms is the most rewarding part of her day at times.
yuuka hirasaka is the type of girl to⌠put her hand on the small of your back when youâre out in public. a silent way of saying that she supports you and that she cares! her habit tends to be especially useful when in the crowds of foothill town, so she doesnât lose you in the sea of people. occasionally, she may even slide her hand to hold your waist as well. yâknow, extra precaution? at least, that is her excuse.
yuuka hirasaka is the type of girl to⌠tease you until your cheeks turn rosy. she doesnât like to be too overzealous with her little jokes she whispers in your ear to make you blush, but sometimes her bluntness can only enhance that effect. she may repeat a pick up line she heard from somewhere just to see if it works on you, leading her to chuckle to herself if it does indeed do its job.
squirrelioo ° ŕź.ŕłŕż - please do not plagiarize my works.
reader stuck choosing between childhood bestfriend katsuki bakugo and new acquaintance tenya iida.
you were friends with katsuki and izuku since you were in pre-school, but you were in a different school in middle school and high school, so you didn't know how to approach them now that there's been quite some time since you've seen each other, although your houses were practically next to each other, you didn't really go out much.
you ran into katsuki the first week of classes. during lunch time, you saw him eating lunch and approached him, you both caught up with what's been happening in life, and exchanged contacts. you've been texting each other casually now, you found out that he was studying mechanical engineering, and through observation you concluded that he was more laid-back now compared to his spunky childhood self. you often made plans together, checking out new shops, or simply just walking around school grounds, maybe a few teasing here and there.
well, you probably don't remember, but when you were in kindergarten, he dragged you and walked up to his mom once class was dismissed, he was holding your hand when said to his mom that he swears he'll marry you one day, mitsuki burst out laughing, it was cute. he remembers this memory, because his mom reminds him when they look at his childhood photos (there's a page for you, izuku, and katsuki when you were in kindergarten.) mitsuki teases him that she'd love to see her "future child-in-law" again. he shuts the idea down saying "we haven't talked for over 5 years, what makes you think that they'd be your child-in-law?"
growing up, he never really saw himself getting into a relationship, he just focused on his studies, but now, he's getting mixed feelings, he doesn't know what he wants, he's foreign to the thought of intimacy.
kirishima helps him with these thoughts when they drink (lightly) together (not very often btw, he isn't a drunkard), kirishima told him to confess his feelings to you, or else you wouldn't know, and there's this certain political science guy who's always seen with you. kirishima was just saying, his chances were fair.
for the meantime, katsuki often gives you things that remind him of you; that chikawa plush he saw at the mall last friday, your favorite drink, a pin of a niche band that you both listen to.
"thought you might like this, so i got it for you."
he offers to drive you to your hometown when there's long school breaks, since your houses aren't that far apart.
then comes tenya, he's the political science student who's the top of his class, sticks with the rules and is also their class representative.
a friend of yours (ochaco) introduced you to each other when you ran into each other while getting coffee. iida was a good guy, a few interactions later, you found out that izuku and ochaco were dating, and izuku was friends with iida too. you thought to yourself: "what a small world."
iida rarely uses social media, as he thinks that it isn't that important. so he made an instagram account just to talk to you. he often messages you about school events, he got you into one of the campus's organizations, and you were now both part of it.
izuku and ochaco always egg on you both, saying that you might end up together. iida was quick to shut this down, he was far from nonchalant, he was refusing while doing his signature arm movements. stating that "it's rude to force these implications into others!" and "besides, they might have a partner already!". you didn't acknowledge the back and forth exchange of the chaos, but in all honesty, you didn't have one.
one day, tenya invited you out for a coffee study session, your exams are near, so you accepted his offer, you were there from the afternoon until 9 in the evening. you were studying for a general education subject with a very strict professor, you worked terrible under pressure.
you posted a story on instagram, two cups of coffee with some prescription glasses on the side (you didn't mean to catch it in the photo.) katsuki was tipsy, had a little liquid courage on his system when he saw your story. he was jealous, how come iida has a date with you and he doesn't? he didn't think twice and replied "didn't know you had a boyfriend?"
you saw his reply, and read it in the semi-sarcastic tone he has when he's teasing you. but iida caught you smiling, and asked "is that your partner?"
you're caught between the two men. now, who will you choose?
(i should really go and study, college is burning me outtt, (lmao, i just had to get this off my system) this week is our midterm week, and i haven't really gotten into studying, sooo i really hope you like this, bye bye!)
The twins! Thereâs nerdjo đ¤and then thereâs fratjo too ig, I was really excited when i saw nerdjo trending so I grabbed the opportunity to draw him hehe
after a shitty date, your brother's bestfriend!katsuki finds your nsfw twitter account and relieves all his pent up tension
katsuki knows the second she laughs at his joke that itâs not going to work.
not because sheâs annoying. not because sheâs boring. sheâs fine. pretty, even. says all the right things. leans across the table in that practiced way like sheâs read too many magazine articles about body language and how to be âirresistible,â lets her fingers brush his arm when she asks him about the gym. her voice is soft. her eyes linger. and all katsuki can think about is how off it feels. how cold. how completely unfuckingsexy it is to watch someone try so hard to be interesting. he finishes his drink too fast. smiles through the burn. thinks about how many more minutes he has to kill before he can leave without feeling like a dick.
he ends the night early. pays. walks her back to her car. listens to her offer something about âdoing this again,â and nods even though he knows itâs a lie. he kisses her when she leans in, because what the fuck else is he supposed to do? itâs quick. dry. she tastes like lip gloss and vodka. he pulls back too fast and pretends he didnât notice. tells her goodnight, watches her drive off, then gets in his own car and sits there with his head against the headrest and his jaw clenched.
he doesnât even remember the drive home. just the sting behind his eyes from the streetlights and the throb in his cock that hasnât gone away since halfway through dinner. not because of her. not even because of the dumb conversation or the tight dress or the low neckline. but because of whatâs been crawling under his skin all day, ever since he woke up with morning wood and didnât touch it. tried to push through a workout instead. tried to clear his head in the shower. nothing worked. and now itâs worse. now itâs fucking unbearable.
the second his front door closes, his beltâs undone. he doesnât even make it to the bedroom. just drops onto the couch, drags a hand over his face, yanks his sweats down far enough to grip his cock, already half-hard and aching. he unlocks his phone without thinking. thumb taps open twitter like muscle memory. goes straight to the feed, already knowing itâll be flooded with the usual shitâhalf-naked girls, grainy clips, skin and sound and desperation.
but tonight, itâs not working.
the girls are all too loud. the lightingâs bad. every clip starts in the middle of someone moaning fake as fuck, high-pitched and breathy and trying too hard. he scrolls past three, four, five of them without even twitching. rubs a thumb along the head of his cock, breath shallow, irritation blooming.
and then he sees it.
not a face. not even a body, reallyâjust the curve of thighs in soft lighting, spread over pink sheets, fingers gliding through slick and dipping in slow. thereâs no caption. no hashtags. no dramatic âdaddy please ruin meâ audio. just motion and the quiet sound of a girl trying not to moan too loud. like someone could hear. like sheâs not supposed to be doing this.
his hand stills. his chest tightens.
itâs the room that does it. the wall. that fucking pink wall.
he knows that pink. knows the soft lighting. the way it hits in the evening. heâs seen it a hundred times, leaning in your doorway while your brother yells something down the hall. knows the bedspread. the plushie half in frame. the corner of the mirror tucked behind your nightstand.
his cock twitches violently in his hand.
you moan, soft and high, broken like you're trying not to let it outâand he knows that sound. not because heâs heard it like this, but because he's heard you laugh. whine. talk with your mouth full. yell at your brother from your room. your voice is burned into his memory, and now it's soaked through the speaker and dripping down his chest.
youâre fingering yourself slow. like it matters how it feels. like youâre not filming it for anyone else. two fingers curling inside you, legs already trembling. he watches your other hand reach offscreen for something. it returns with a vibrator. he hears the buzz before he sees it touch your clitâand then you twitch. moan again. messier.
you start to cum. hard. thighs clenched, hips jerking, slick gushing over your hand as your back arches and you fuck yourself through it.
katsukiâs already leaking.
he doesnât remember clicking on your profile. but now heâs on it, scrolling slow. doesnât recognize the username. but every single video is the same bed. the same sheets. the same necklace bouncing between your tits as you ride a thick confetti dildo on your knees, moaning like your voice is cracking in half.
he fists his cock and strokes fast and dirty and quiet, cumming messily all over his stomach as he watches you squirt on the toy in the next video. it slips in slowly, and you gasp when it pops past the tightest part. the sound you make is almost panicked.
he groans. jaw clenched. head back.
the guilt doesnât hit until after. after he wipes his hand. after he stares at the ceiling. after he catches his breath. he closes the app. but itâs too late. itâs burned in. your moans. your necklace. your bed. you.
he doesn't sleep.
the thing is, it starts normal.
your brotherâs on the couch in the other room yelling at the tv. the three of you were supposed to watch something togetherâsome dumb movie he insisted onâbut then he got distracted, left you and katsuki in the kitchen half-waiting, half-bullshitting. the morning sunâs starting to fade into afternoon, spilling warm and soft through the windows, and youâre sitting at the counter across from him with your chin propped on your hand, sipping from the same glass of water youâve been nursing for the last twenty minutes. he looks relaxed. hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, thighs spread, scrolling through something on his phone.
but then you laugh at something he says, and it makes you think of a tiktok you saved last weekâsome dumb video that would hit his exact sense of humorâand you light up without thinking.
"shit, wait. my phone's upstairs. lemme show you on yours," you say, already holding your hand out across the counter.
he doesnât even look up. just unlocks it, lazily swipes to the side like heâs going to hand it to youâscreen still openâand thenâ
he pauses.
only for a second. so fast you wouldnât even catch it if you werenât already reaching. a little hesitation in his thumb. like his brain caught up a moment too late and said waitâbut his handâs already moving.
so you take it.
youâre not looking for anything. your mouth is already halfway open to ask if he even has tiktok downloaded when your eyes flick down.
the screen is in app-switcher mode.
you blink.
his open apps are stacked one behind the other, like cards. youtube. spotify. safari. andâtwitter.
itâs not the bird icon that gets you. itâs the thumbnail.
the frozen still image of a paused video.
thighs spread wide. toy glinting between them. slick all over your fingers and a bit of it smeared on the inside of your thigh. the reflection of your fairy lights in the corner of the mirror. the necklace you never take off catching the light just enough to give you away.
itâs your video. the one you posted two nights ago.
and he was watching it.
you donât even breathe.
you swipe up before your face can betray you, fast and fluid like muscle memory, pretending you didnât just see yourself fingering your pussy on the screen of your brotherâs best friendâs phone.
he doesnât say anything. doesnât move. doesnât even flinch.
you open tiktok like nothing happened, type in the name of the video you meant to show him. your hands donât shake. you force your body to stay still even as your pulse kicks high up in your chest, throat tight and hot, skin prickling with disbelief.
you press play and turn the screen toward him.
âthis one,â you say, like your heart isnât about to crawl up your tongue.
he nods. his face is unreadable. like heâs trying not to show anything at all.
but you can feel it between you. see it, even if he wonât look at you directly. the stiffness in his shoulders. the way he shifts his weight just slightly, like his skin is too hot. the way his fingers tap the counter once, then stop.
when the video ends, you slide it back across the counter like it doesnât burn to touch it.
âthanks,â you say.
and he just nods again. silent.
you donât bring it up. not then.
your phone lights up close to midnight.
youâre already in bed, lights off, one leg bent, staring at the ceiling like it might tell you what to do with the image burned into your brainâyour own body, paused on his screen. the way his thumb hesitated. the way neither of you said anything.
the name on the screen makes your stomach flip.
katsuki: you still up?
you stare at it for a long time before answering.
you: yeah
thereâs a long pause. you almost think he wonât respond. thenâ
katsuki: can i ask you something
katsuki: you donât have to say yes
katsuki: but i need to ask
your heart thumps.
you: ask
katsuki: will you do it again
katsuki: like the video
katsuki: but this time
katsuki: can i watch
you donât answer right away. you read it twice. three times. the words blur a little from how hard your pulse is pounding behind your eyes.
you type something. delete it. type again.
you: you already watched
katsuki: i know but it wasnât enough i want to hear it in real time
katsuki: want to hear you moan like that right in front of me
katsuki: want to see you open up for me, slow
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