Very short introduction but Hi im cata and im 18 and i love to read and sometimes write
I do have a Wattpad so the oneshots I wrote there will also be here
the main animes I will focus on are (Masterlist)
Aot
Mha
JJK
Demon slayer
Here are my rules please make sure you look at them!!
I will state this once and that’s it but there will be some 18+ writing that I will do but I won’t go to far cause honestly I lowk don’t know how to write like that. But if I see that my writing has improve then I can explore with the spicy stuff.
I AM GETTING THE HANG OF THIS SO PLS DONT JUDGE ME.
SYNOPSIS: after getting in another fight, you and your friends wind up in a jail cell. you call your boyfriend to get you out.
NOTES: quick drabble, somewhat crack fic? but not really lol. established relationship. fluff. mention of fighting n blood by reader.
“who is this!?”
the phone doesn’t have a second to ring before your boyfriend screeches down the phone. it sounds as if something’s in his mouth, a pen? he’s usually in his agency office at this time, finishing up an evening patrol and about to go home.
“hello? who the fuck got my number—,”
you take a deep breath before revealing yourself.
“it’s me, katsuki.”
“kacchan, did you get the stats—,”
bakugou sits up in his black leather chair, dropping his ballpoint pen and waving at deku across the room to shut up. he recognises you from the first syllable that crackles down the line.
“yn? baby? why’re you calling me from an unknown number? where’re you? you okay? what’s—,”
“i only have a minute so let me talk.”
you’re supposed to be out tonight with your girls, a monthly club night where you dance, eat and drink. a few of your favourite things in the world. you even sent him a selfie blowing a kiss before you left in your pretty outfit, wishing him good luck on his patrol and hoping he doesn’t get too bored with the low crime rates.
bakugou’s heart spikes, inhaling deeply before standing up. a villain has kidnapped you… someone is out to harm you. he’s already looking around for his gauntlets. he just tugged out of his hero suit but it’s right across the room for him to pull back on.
“what’s wrong with yn?” deku frowns from his seat on bakugou’s sofa. he’s typing up notes from their patrol together. bakugou hushes him again, with a warning finger.
“go on. are you safe?”
“please don’t be mad at me. please don’t be. but i might need you to—,”
“thirty seconds!” a man shouts somewhere down your line.
“who the fuck is that?” bakugou shouts, grabbing his keys and pulling an arm through his uniform. usually he’s levelheaded during missions and patrols. a mobile alert that there’s a villain robbery downtown doesn’t send a pang of panic through him. nor a kidnapping or high risk attack. bakugou’s seen it all. nothing scares him anymore.
but anything to do with you and bakugou’s back to square one. he can barely think straight. every single thought of his is scrambled, spelt backwards and upside down and he needs to get to you now.
“dickhead officer,” you mumble quickly, “okay don’t be mad at me, i need you to come get me at the station. maybe get me out of jail with your hero ways and connections. please. don’t be mad.”
it’s all in one long ramble and he imagines you at the police station, fingers playing with the loopy wire of the telephone. bakugou freezes in place. his shoulders drop and he relaxes.
the list of reasons why bakugou loves you goes on forever. bakugou himself is yet to find an end to it. he loves your patience with him and his job, how you’re understanding when he needs to leave a date early and interrupts your evenings with heroic phone calls. how you’re always willing to learn something new, like self defence with him in his agency gym. he loves how much you love your friends and family, just like he does his. willing to stand up for them and stand by them. he also loves how you never take any disrespect. not from anybody, to you or others. that is exactly why he struggles to be mad at you right now.
“hah? the fuck did you do?” he pauses, pulling off his hero suit. he doesn’t need it. you already did the work for him.
“why do you assume it was me!?” you whine down the line.
“wasn’t it? why the hell are you in there?” he wants to bark but his tone softens knowing you’re on the other end. you give a dramatic huff that makes him grip the phone tighter for more.
bakugou looks at deku who still stares expectantly, unsure if he should be putting his hero suit on also. bakugou shakes his head.
“i’ll explain when you’re here. come quickly please. it stinks—,”
“ten seconds!” the same voice.
“quick, baby. i love you!” you shout.
“fuck, baby. love y—,”
bakugou shoves his phone in his pocket, letting out a short hearty laugh.
“is everything okay with yn? did someone hurt her?”
“it’s gonna be the opposite. she’s in jail right now.”
when your boyfriend stops into the police station, with his black boots, black jeans and an oversized grey hoodie, you squeal, running to the bars trapping you inside like an animal. he looks so good, all boyfriend with his hood over his head and bags under his eyes. you even catch him rolling his eyes at you, giving you a nod and lip bite as you jump in excitement.
“katsuki’s here, he’s gonna get us out! we’re saved!” you tell your two friends sitting arms folded in the jail cell with you.
you wave to him and bakugou stomps right over, past the authorised doors and right to your cell.
“excuse me, sir! you can’t just—,”
bakugou turns to the police officer, one eyebrow raised.
“oh! dynamight, why are you here?” the policeman’s face floods a bright pink but both you and bakugou ignore him.
bakugou immediately reaches his hand through the bars, gripping your chin and moving your head side to side.
“he was the one telling me to hurry up on the phone!” you say smushed, “i’m okay! you should see the other girl!”
there’s no scratches on your face. your makeup has smudged and sweated off, just from time and dancing earlier. there is blood on your knuckles however, contrasting against your short little party girl outfit.
bakugou drops his hand with a loud grunt then eyes your friends, who send him jolly smiles and even a wave.
“hey dynamight!”
“thanks for helping us!”
he still has a soft spot for your friends, who look exactly like you. no bruises or scratches. the only proof of a fight is maybe two broken nails on your friend’s left hand and your other friend’s hair is a tamed mess. he often cooks you and them dinner whenever he is around your flat.
“why the hell are you here, baby? again?” he sighs hopelessly. he shakes his head, ignoring the other cells of people eying him suspiciously.
a prohero visiting a jail cell? probably not his biggest fans.
still you smile at bakugou shyly, “i said don’t be mad!”
“i need to know what happened so i can get you out,” he levels with you.
you huff, looking away from your lover.
“baby. you told me to come quickly. i know you’re fine so what happened?” he soothes, despite the fact you don’t need soothing. he wants to give you a kiss and cuddle, scrub you down in the shower and bring you to bed.
but you’ve got to be this firecracker.
“you know those girls who hate us? they saw us out tonight and started shouting at us! we weren’t even doing anything! and then you know what happened,” you drawl, grabbing bakugou’s hand though the bars as if he needs convincing.
bakugou fights the smirk off his face. of course he knows your lore and the beefs you have with everyone in your life. there’s nothing he doesn’t know about you.
“no babe. what happened, huh?”
“she threw the first punch at me! she was chatting shit, so i did too! she tried to punch me, clearly didn’t get me, so then i punched her, it did get her. i’ll admit.” but you struggle to hide your own grin.
one tooth from you and bakugou’s grinning, “then what?”
“it was a little scrap! i had it under control. did the one with the elbow you showed me.”
“yeah? in her stomach?” bakugou eggs on.
you nod, grinning like a kid who’s won an award, “yeah! also some good old hair pulling. if it ain’t broke don’t fix it!”
bakugou does actually let out a laugh at that, rubbing his face with his palm restlessly, “oh shit, baby.”
“but then someone called the police and they got sent to the hospital together and we are… here.”
your friends have the audacity to look pitiful and you join them by pulling him closer by his hand.
“and what do you want me to do, princess?” he smiles devotedly, cheeks high and pink.
“what do you mean? get me out, stupid! use your hero ways, seduce or fight them. legal language. what you did last time!” you say, waving your free hand around like you’re in a position of power here, “i wanna shower.”
“how’s that supposed to teach you your lesson? no fightin’—,” he jokes but you send him a dead stare.
“katsuki, not funny. we wanna go home. look at us,” you pout.
you’re fucking adorable, bakugou thinks. with your little top and tiny skirt. you’re in thick sports socks currently, your shoes under the chair by your friends. your feet hurt he can only assume. he eyes the k gold necklace at your neck. feeling the stare, you subconsciously play with it between your fingers.
“if i let you out, you promise no fightin’?” he plays but you’re back to huffing. so close to stomping your foot.
“katsuki! i said it wasn’t our fault anyway!”
“yeah, yeah, whatever. i’ll see what i can do,” he smirks, fixing his hair. “gimme a kiss.”
you smile, pouting your lips to meet him through the bars. it’s a quick peck, one that has you missing him even though he’s still there.
“i’ll be back in a sec. no startin’ fights while i’m gone.”
“go hero!”
bakugou slips his calloused palm out of your hand and stuffs his hands in his pockets, smiling back at you before turning around the corner to find an officer.
he fixes his hair under his hood, trying to keep his crush on you under wraps.
bakugou just about hears you say. “katsuki’s going to save us! didn’t he look kinda... that hoodie… yum.”
bakugou is waiting by his range rover when you and your friends fall out of the police station, giggling the same way you do when you leave the club.
your soft smile at katsuki makes his heart skip a beat, his breaths soften. he feels the urge to float over to you, despite the fact you’re already walking towards him.
“thanks for saving us, hero,” you coo, kissing his cheek once he’s close enough. bakugou’s quick to lean into it.
“thanks dynamight! it wasn’t our fault, i swear, dont get mad at yn.” your friend says, her bag and phone back in her hands.
“it was those girls again!” your other friend curses, “i swear once i find them—,”
“okay, okay. get in the damn car, i’ll drop everyone home,” he pretends to be annoyed but you see through it all.
a fresh breeze swoops your hair back and causes bakugou’s hood to fall off his head. he’s tired and adorable, towering over you with his hand sliding onto your waist like it belongs there.
you take his hand as your friends mumble their thanks again, sliding into the backseat of his car.
“i mean it, ‘tsuki. thanks for getting us, i know you’d rather be in bed now.” you say, reaching up on your tiptoes, shoes back on. you’re still not close enough to his face so he manages by bending down to yours.
“we’re gonna talk about this properly. i hate you gettin’ hurt,” he tries to be stern, like how he is at work with his sidekicks that aren’t fast enough or his emergency team that aren’t precise enough.
but you are enough. everything about you.
“i said i didn’t get hurt. well, my wrist is a bit sore but aside from that, i’m fine!” you promise, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “i swear!”
“d’you want me to deal with those girls? get mina and momo to tell them to not bother you—,” he tries but you shake your head.
“it’s not hero business, ‘tsuki.”
“you shouldn’t be fightin’ anyone. hero shit or not.”
you slink your arms around his neck and bakugou finds it hard to not let his eyes go half lidded with interest. he leans into you like he’s at home, just the smell of you dragging him closer.
“then they have to stop chatting shit,” you whisper, pecking his pouty lips softly. “i love you.”
bakugou knows he’s not going to win this conversation. he could train you to fight better though. he sighs, ready for a hot shower and bedtime with you.
“fine. we’re talkin’ about this later. love you too.”
college au 𖤝 d. kaminari 𝔁 f!reader 𝔁 k. bakugou 𖤝 angst oneshot!
warnings. angst, mdni. hurt NO comfort. childhood bsfs w denki. we're kinda in his head. harmful fx of drinking. he's watching you fall in love with bakugou and doesn't understand why it's killing him. listen to the inspo
masterlist | wc: 9.6k (lord.)
his phone buzzes on the desk, but denki misses it as he's laying on your bed, flopped next to you as he has one of your airpods in with the other in your ear.
"this is so depressing, dude."
he turns his head to look at you scrolling through your indie pop playlist named 'wwmd', aptly standing for "what would mitski do?" quite on the nose, in his opinion.
"shut up. i love mazzy star," the blonde on your bed snorts. "all these are like post breakup songs when you've been crying for days and haven't seen the sun."
you roll your eyes, shoving him lightly. "i don't know why i still hang out with you when you berate me so much," you mutter with a groan. he rolls over to pick up your sloth jellycat he bought you your freshman year of college. "because who would check up on mr. dozy?" he says, making silly faces as he makes the small plushie dance in your face, sending you into a fit of giggles. you wrestle the poor thing out of his hands with little protest from him, the pair of you too tickled to care.
suddenly, "fade into you" is interrupted by a notification of your own and denki catches for a split second who it is in the top bar before you click on it and turn away from him, your back facing him while you text. "sorry denks, lemme just send this one message.." he feels a little twinge in his chest because you've never really hidden anything from him in the many years you've been best friends with him. he tries to not think much of it and is easily distracted when he hears his phone buzz back to back once more. reluctantly, he pulls himself off the bed to go look.
you immediately shoot up, frantically looking around your room for clean clothes. denki looks at you a little confused. "hey, it's just waffle house. why do you need to change?" you pause to look at him. "uhh, because half our campus loves to hang out there too? duh!" you resume your crazy search and he just moves back to his phone, scrolling on instagram.
in the corner of his eye, he can see you in your bathroom applying mascara and perfume, something you once told him you only do when you "want to feel ready-ready". he shakes it off, trying not to think too much of it. he may never really understand women, he assumed.
you had thrown on one of your favorite hoodies over your tank top and slipped into some clean sweats, muttering something about him always wearing the same five fits so he wouldn't know. denki just snorts at the sight, pushing off your bedframe to pull his vans back on.
“you're so sassy tonight.”
“hush,” you shoot back, grabbing your keys and phone. he throws his hands up, following you out the door of your apartment anyway, the two of you falling into your usual rhythm of shoulder-checking each other in the hallway and racing to the elevators.
the parking lot is mildly noise filled, a usual occurrence for a friday night in a college town. streetlights buzz and the air feels cooler against your skin as you hear other people get into cars to supposedly hit the bars or some dingy frat party. you both see bakugou’s car idling near the entrance to your particular building, low rap music thumping faintly from inside. the bright red of his taillights glows from the rear as his front leds cut sharply into the darkness.
you reach the car first. without thinking, you pull open the passenger door and slide into the shotgun seat, the familiar scent of bakugou’s cologne and faint car freshener hitting you immediately. denki pauses for half a second outside before climbing into the back. he shuts the door a little harder than necessary. "thanks for the bitch seat." you give him an apologetic smile.
“took you fuckers long enough,” bakugou grunts, already shifting into drive before denki even could get his seatbelt on. his voice is rough, in his natural talking fashion.
“sorry kacchan,” you say in a over-the-top sickly sweet tone, buckling up and shooting him a grin. he side-eyes you, lips twitching like he’s fighting a grimace.
“don't start with that shit.”
bakugou pulls away from the curb without another word, one hand spinning loose on the wheel. the rap playlist he's put on is still on low, to which you turn the knob on the volume to fill the car with a$ap rocky. your fingers tap along the door handle like you’re in your own little world. denki slouches in the back, trying to focus on his tiktok for you page instead of the sight before him. specifically to the way you’re half-turned toward bakugou, laughing at the blonde who had just grunted in response to something you said. it’s stupid. you’ve always been like this, comfortable with everyone. that’s what he likes about you. right?
he shakes the thought off, forcing a grin when you turn back to see him. “you good back there, denks?”
“peachy,” he says, shooting you a thumbs-up. “he's probably dming some chick," bakugou mutters. you snort and reach over to nudge bakugou’s arm, and denki watches the way the man doesn’t pull away. doesn’t even glare. okay, that’s new.
bakugou finally pulls into the waffle house parking lot, tires biting the curb a little too sharply. the glowing blue and red sign buzzes overhead like it's about to go out from being on all the time. mina’s already waving wildly from the window booth inside, her tightly coiled pink curls bouncing as she spots the three of you climbing out.
inside the joint it smells like syrup, burnt coffee, and grease. mina squeals and pulls sero closer towards her to make room, but you don’t slide in next to him. instead, you follow suit with bakugou for the other side of the big corner booth table. you slip in right beside him, your shoulder brushing his as you settle.
kirishima grins wide, mouth stuffed with pancakes. “finally! we kinda ordered already, we were starving."
“can you not talk with your mouth full?” sero adds, patting the spot next to him in a gesture towards denki. “sit down, dude.”
denki forces a laugh and drops down next to sero, the plastic faux leather squeaking under him. from this angle, he has a perfect view of you and bakugou. you’re leaning slightly into the blonde's space, pointing at something on the menu bakugou’s holding even though he’s pretending not to care. bakugou whispers something low in your ear that makes you laugh softly towards him, the kind of pretty laugh he's never seen you do with him.
mina kicks him under the table. “earth to denki. you goooood? you look like you’re buffering,”
“huh? yeah! yeah. just… tired,” he lies, flashing another forced smile. “long week, y'know? midterms are kicking my ass.” she wails at the mention. "eeeek, don't talk about exams near me right now!"
the waitress comes around to drop off more coffee and take all of your orders. denki barely registers what he says, something about the double chocolate chip pancakes and extra bacon. his eyes keep drifting back to the other side of the booth where you’re still leaned in toward bakugou, your knee occasionally bumping his under the table. he doesn’t move away. if anything, his arm has stretched along the back of the booth now with his fingers loosely dangling near your shoulder. playing with a strand of your hair. you get your usual, strawberry crepes with extra whipped cream, and denki notices you don’t even have to tell bakugou what you want when he adds “and a side of hashbrowns, crispy” without looking up.
your voice is too quiet for denki to catch but he sees the way bakugou actually listens to whatever you're yapping away about. he doesn’t have denki's nature to tease you and crack jokes. he just nods solemnly, like he’s committing it to deep memory.
the food arrives, and for a few minutes everyone’s too busy stuffing their faces to talk much. denki watches you steal a fry off bakugou’s plate, him pushing the whole dish closer to you instead of bitching about it to which you smile and stick out your tongue at him. anyone else would miss it, but denki swore he saw a flicker of a smile on bakugou's lips as he looked at you.
denki nearly drops his fork. he let her have his food. bakugou! the same guy who once threatened to fight him for looking at his chick-fil-a too long. “you want some of mine?” denki blurts, pushing his plate out toward you a little too quickly. the ceramic plate makes a loud clatter that startles everyone at the booth.
you blink a couple times, then smile at him warm and familiar. "i’m good, denks. thank you though,” your eyes linger on him for a second, mildly concerned at his behavior until kirishima says something loudly that pulls your attention right back to the group.
denki retracts his plate slowly, shoving a huge bite of pancake into his mouth so he doesn’t have to speak further to bury him in the hole he created. sero leans over, voice quiet enough that only he can hear. “you sure you’re good, man? you’re acting mad weird.”
denki swallows hard. “yeah, i promise. i need to lay off the energy drinks.”
sero doesn’t look convinced one bit, but he lets it drop.
kirishima wipes syrup off his chin and speaks up between bites, pointing his fork at you. “yo, aren't you gonna do something for your birthday? it’s literally in like two weeks. twenty-one, baby!”
mina lights up instantly, slamming her hands on the table. “oh my god, yes! we should go OUT, girl! pre-game at my place, then downtown bar hop for shots and dancing!”
you swallow a bite of crepe and shake your head, smiling but firm. “guys, no! i don’t really want any big plans. i was just thinking we could all hang out and maybe order pizza, watch a movie, y'know! that sounds perfect to me.”
denki watches the exchange closely without interjecting. part of him feels happy hearing your words. but another part twists when he sees bakugou glance down at you, something unreadable in his expression before he pipes up too.
“tch. if she says she doesn’t want a stupid club birthday, then don’t force it.”
you shoot bakugou a grateful look, your shoulder bumping lightly into his. “see? bakugou gets it."
denki’s grip tightens on his fork. sure, of course he gets it. he always seems to know exactly what you want these days.
mina pouts but eventually sighs, waving her hands in a big show. “fiiiine. but we’re at least doing something fun, okay? karaoke! or ooooh, a bonfire? something! i refuse to let your twenty-first be basic.”
sero chuckles. “we could do a group sleepover at someone’s place. i wanna make those jell-o shots that fuck you up."
the conversation drift along for a while, denki staying mostly quiet. he just nods, throwing in half-hearted comments whenever someone looks at him.
eventually, the bill comes. everyone throws some cash to pitch in, but bakugou as usual covered more than his share without saying a word. you thank him silently and denki looks away, unable to deal with this much longer. when they all file out, they split up by location. since kirishima and bakugou were roommates and lived near you, the three of you were going by his car. denki was rooming with sero, and mina's apartment was two buildings away from theirs so they three were off in sero's van.
bakugou mumbles in confirmation to your loud quip as you fall into step beside him naturally, saying something that makes kirishima burst into cackles too. denki watches the small group go off with the tightening in his chest getting worse. what the fuck is wrong with him?
sero's voice pulls him back. "c'mon man, you're with me and mina." great, back to being the cuck.
he slides into the backseat once more as mina sits in the passenger seat that she's bedazzled the dash with rhinstones, spelling out "sero's girl". she's still buzzing about your birthday.
"oh my god," mina leans back to include denki in her yap. "i know it. we have to do a surprise party!" sero looks over at his girlfriend with a brow raised. "babe, i don't think she's the type to like those." mina groans. "can you please try and keep up with my vision roro? denki, listen. you have to plan it! you know her the longest out of all of us, right?" a flash from his memories comes back, an image of you with your front teeth missing. you loved being pushed on the swings and begged him all the time to get you higher. he misses the way your hair smelled like strawberries and vanilla.
denki stares for a minute, trying to process her words. "uh… yeah, we've known each since we were like in diapers. surprise party sounds good, i guess." he doesn't know quite yet how to feel about it, but.. it's you. he'll do it if it means letting you know just how special you are.
mina squeals happily and gives him a quick side hug from front before sero pulls into the loop of her building. "you're the best! i'll text you all my ideas and the pinterest boards, kaykay?" she rounds the car to sero's window. he leans out with one arm slung on the door to give her a chaste kiss bye.
"love you baby!" mina waves as she disappears around the stairs. "love you too, mariposa."
when sero pulls back onto the main road, he flicks a glance to denki. "alright. for real this time," sero says, voice serious. "what the fuck's up with you? you've been off since i've seen you. maybe since before that, from the looks of it. cough it out."
denki gives a short, fake laugh. "lay off, man, i already told you, i'm just tired. everyone's got exams, and so do i—"
"bullshit! you don't give a fuck if you fail those classes or not. you're like the last person i know who cares about grades. you've been staring at her and bakugou like someone kicked your puppy the whole night. if you have something on your chest, you better speak up now or forever hold your peace. i'm telling you right now, before that ship sails."
denki's head snaps towards him, the word vomit coming out immediately. "can you fuck off? i don't like her, okay! we're best friends and that's it! you're prying way too fucking hard at this, dude!" sero is silent for a long while, unable to find the words after that outburst.
"…ooookay then. my bad for misreading it then."
the rest of the drive is painfully silent towards their shared apartment. when he parks, denki is already slamming the door and making a beeline for his room, no goodnight to sero or anything more.
sero simply sighs. "mina was right, we really are in a sassy man apocalypse…" he mutters to himself, locking his car with a click of his keys.
the next week doesn't help the weight that's growing on denki's chest. he had asked you to come to sit on the rear campus lawn no one frequents and smoke a blunt with him, something you guys would do every so often together. you had shot him a quick "sorry, busy studying!" to which he didn't buy for a second. he opened the friend life360, and there you were. hovering right next to bakugou, at his place. kirishima was at his wrestling team practice so the two of you were alone at the apartment.
no, he needs to stop. this is getting weird and possessive. you could genuinely be studying together! he was aware you and bakugou were in the same business 320 class so it wasn't far-fetched at all. so why wasn't this easing the anxiety that bubbled in his guts?
before he could continue on, his phone rings, the caller id pink and glittery, courtesy of herself. denki picks up. "helloooooo, party co-captain! mina-wina reporting for duuuuty!" she sings loudly, the blonde having to keep the speakerphone away from his ear as to not burst his eardrum. "i appreciate the enthusiasm, mina," he says monotonously. he can hear her make a noise of protest. "listen up, idiot! we have literally eight days until her birthday and we only have the invites sent out! i know you're no fashion mogul, so i'll take care of the decorations but i need you to step it up and help me through the process! i need deets, man, deets!"
mina barges into the apartment ten minutes later with two giant duffel bags, glitter glue on her cheek, and her laptop, which had a tab open to a secret pinterest board titled “bestie’s 21 banger!!!”
“okay so i was thinking about fairy lights, a balloon arch in her favorite color, and we make a photo backdrop with all our pictures from like, the last three years,”
sero, who had been lounging on the couch with a bag of chips, gives her a look. “damn, you really just invite yourself in now? not even a ‘hey baby’?”
mina waved him off with a dramatic flourish. “hi roro, love you, move your long ass legs — i need space.” she says, taking real estate over the floor of their living room. “you’re on cake duty, denk. i totally don't know what flavor she would want," denki immediately answers. "red velvet. i'm sure of it." mina lays on a 100-watt smile. "see, this is the kind of involvement i was looking for! let's keep this energy, m'kaaay?"
denki sat cross-legged on the couch next to sero, nodding along even though his brain felt like static.
mina simply beams and scribbles away at her pink notepad. they spend the next thirty minutes arguing over miscellaneous but important details, like how early they needed to get everyone to the apartment for the “surprise sleepover.” even though he was still feeling off about you, he was happy that he was able to do something like this that you might appreciate.
that was, until mina’s phone buzzed.
her eyes widened. “shit. shitshitshit! they’re coming here! i see her and bakugou just come into the apartment bubble on life360, they're like two minutes from knocking on the door!”
“fuck—” sero jumped up immediately, his poor hot chips abandoned. “hide everything!”
denki’s stomach dropped while mina moved first, her movements like a volatile tornado. she slammed her laptop shut, shoved all the sample glittery decorations back into the totes and practically threw them into sero’s closet down the hall. denki helped barely, heart hammering as he stuffed the streamers and a half-printed “happy 21st” banner under the couch.
they barely had time to throw themselves back into somewhat normal positions, with denki on the armchair with a random textbook cracked open, while mina laid on the floor pretending to scroll on her phone and sero sprawled on the couch again like nothing happened before the front door clicked open.
you and bakugou stepped in together, and you both looked wrecked. your hair was messy and slightly damp at the scalp, hoodie half-zipped like it had been thrown on in a hurry. bakugou’s black tank clung to his chest with sweat, blond hair tousled and sticking up in places it definitely shouldn’t. his face was flushed, and so was yours. there was a faint redness on your neck that made denki’s stomach churn.
mina's head snapped up fast. “oh em gee, hi guys! …wow, you two look… sweaty. did you just come from the gym or something?”
you squeak out a laugh a little too quickly. “yeah! totally, just worked out. lots of gains.” you flex your bicep in a show, making a serious face at the same bakugou grunts out a “no.”
instantly, both of you froze and switched answers at the same time.
“—i mean no.”
“—yeah, workout.”
you cleared your throat, obviously trying to change the subject as mina looked two seconds away from addressing the elephant in the room. “so what are you guys doing! saw all you guys were gathered here.”
“studying.” denki, mina, and sero all blurted at once.
sero even added a weak “group project,” while mina nodded aggressively.
you looked heavily confused. “since when do you guys study? and why is there glitter on the floor?” denki looks to where you pointed and sure enough, it's the glittery remains of one of the posters leading a trail out from under the couch.
before anyone could dig the hole deeper, the front door opened again and kirishima walks in, still in his wrestling uniform. he stops dead, looking around slowly as the awkward tension thick enough to choke on fills the room.
he scratches the back of his neck. "uh… why is everyone so silent right now? did i walk in on something?”
with scary unison, all five of you respond with a "no!"
kirishima looks properly terrified. "i'm… gonna go take a shower."
it was two days before your surprise birthday rager-slash-sleepover that now had way too many people invited to be considered lowkey, and denki was feeling much more worse than he was that day.
he hadn’t hung out with you properly in days, ever since the incident at his apartment. he definitely hadn’t opened bakugou’s instagram page at two in the morning just to stare at his following list before realizing he was behaving like a psycho and throwing his phone across his bed.
nevermind that, tonight was supposed to be good.
denki drummed his fingers against the elevator walls, humming along distractedly to the song faintly playing through the ceiling while it went up to your dorm floor. on his wrist hung a plastic bag from the gas station filled with the exact same collection of garbage you’d been getting since you were thirteen. sour gummy worms, hot cheetos, and the hostess cupcakes you insisted tasted better with a good swig of blue raspberry slushie, which he had in a drink holder in his other hand.
birthday eve-eve.
it was a really stupid name, but you guys loved the tradition and its name was just a placeholder that stuck. "i'll think of something cooler, i swear!" you'd tell him with a braces-filled grin, the rubber bands stained blue from the cold beverage. you never did, and he never minded.
you’d invented it in middle school after deciding that celebrating your birthday for only twenty four hours was, in your words, “soul-sucking and whimsy-less.” every year since, two nights before your actual birthday, denki picked you up and drove around with you until midnight. sometimes you went to a restaurant. one year, you chose the run-down arcade. on your sixteenth, you spent two hours parked behind a closed target arguing over whether hermione should've ended up with draco instead of ron.
when he knocks on your door, he watches a familiar face pass by. rosy cheeks, short brown hair. "oh, you just missed her denki! looked like she was going somewhere fancy," ochako hums, moving to sit the box in her arms on her hip. the smile already pulling at his face falters. you didn't forget, did you?
“huh?”
ochako looked mildly confused at his expression.
“yeah, like five minutes ago?"
“did she say where she was going?”
ochako opens her mouth and then her face brightens with a soft gasp, like she’s just remembered something.
“oh! bakugou was downstairs. i'm sure you could catch them if you take the stairs down,”
of course he was. denki’s gaze drops to the drink carrier in his hand. condensation has already started collecting on both cups, little beads of water slipping and wetting the cardboard holder.
“nah, it’s good.”
the girl frowns. “are you sure?” ochako had always been sweet to him in high school, so he knew she wasn't purposefully trying to make him feel bad. this was dredging from the depths of his own confusing emotions regarding you.
“yeah.” denki lifts the bag hanging from his wrist. “more snacks for me.”
that earns him another giggle. “okay, well, don’t get a tummy ache!”
“no promises, big dawg.”
ochako waves goodbye in another fit of giggles before continuing down the hall. denki waits until she disappears around the corner to let out the deep sigh in his lungs. he looks at your door and there’s the little dry-erase board hanging from it that mina bought you at the beginning of the semester. you had drawn a crooked birthday cake in one corner with "legal soon!" written underneath in pink marker. denki stares at it for a moment, when suddenly his phone buzzes. his heart jumps seeing your name at the top of the notification. he digs it out of his pocket so quickly he nearly drops one of the slushies.
denki’s brows furrow. something in his chest loosens a little. maybe you hadn’t forgotten! this was all in his head, of course. he was jsut being dramatic again. his thumbs move.
the typing bubble appears immediately, and then disappear. then pops up again.
denki stares at the message. there it was, a perfectly reasonable explanation. denki had spent days acting weird whenever you texted him because self-sabotaging his friendship with you was his latest fad, apparently. this wasn’t really your fault. still, something unpleasant churns his stomach, that icky feeling. instead of asking him about it, you made other plans. his phone buzzes again.
denki reads that one twice. for half a second, something embarrassingly hopeful sparks in him. he wanted you to tell him to turn around. he could send you a picture of the two slushies and complain they're all melted waiting for you. you’d come bounding back upstairs apologizing, and the two of you could spend the night doing exactly what you’d done every year before.
his thumb hovers over the keyboard. then another message appears. he could tell you were overthinking the ordeal at this point.
the rooftop restaurant. he'd forgotten you had sent a post about that place to the group chat almost two months ago. some video of their dessert platter with sparklers sticking out of it, followed by a string of texts about how badly you wanted to go because the patio overlooked the entire city. bakugou remembered, and denki didn't. suddenly, it all felt painfully juvenile.
he realizes he’s left you hanging.
no.
he can picture your face perfectly while you type it. that little crease between your brows whenever you think you’ve upset somebody. your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, biting inside of your cheeks. he can’t stand when you feel guilty, especially when the person making you feel guilty is him. his throat feels strange.
he lets out a short sigh.
denki stops breathing for half a second. there it was, the same shit you’d been telling him since middle school without thinking twice. love you. love ya. luv u loser. it had never meant anything beyond. so why did it make his chest hurt now?
“we need to talk.”
denki looked up from the bowl of jungle juice he’d been pretending to help kirishima mix, and there sero stood across the kitchen island with his arms crossed, staring at him. denki snorts.
“hello to you too, sunshine.”
“dude.”
around them, the apartment had been transformed so completely that denki almost didn’t recognize it. fairy lights hung across the ceiling. the red velvet cake was sitting in the fridge. mina’s balloon arch occupied an entire corner of the living room. pictures of you had been clipped along strings throughout the hallway; college photos, ugly candids, group selfies, and several childhood pictures denki had supplied himself. tons of people had piled in and were chit-chatting among themselves. the playlist he made was filled with songs denki knew you’d love was playing through the stereo speakers. it was perfect, and he’d been fucking miserable for most of the day.
sero exhaled through his nose and stepped closer. “look, i’m not gonna ask you what your deal is again because apparently that makes you start foaming at the mouth.”
“preesh.”
“but tonight is her birthday.” he gives him a pointed stare. denki’s jaw tightens.
“i know.”
“then act like it.” sero gestured around them. “you put half this shit together. you spent like thirty minutes arguing with mina over beer kegs. i'm cutting you slack because i know you're tilted, but that's still my girl. i need you to chill out.”
sero’s voice lowered. “whatever is going on in your head about her and bakugou, put it somewhere else for now.”
that familiar defensive anger sparked instantly in denki.
“nothing is going on in my head, bro.”
“sure, sure…”
“sero.”
“fine!” sero lifted both hands. “nothing. absolutely nothing. you’re the picture of zen.”
“fuck you, man.”
sero gives him a cheeky wink. “after the party.”
denki cracked a smile despite himself, shoving sero’s shoulder. sero grinned, but his expression softened quickly.
“seriously, man. she’s gonna walk in here and see something all of us did because we love her. especially you.” he paused. “don’t ruin that for yourself.”
denki breathed out slowly. “yeah.”
sero raised a brow. “yeah?”
“yeah.” denki grabbed the ladle again, pointing it threateningly toward him. “i’m locking the fuck in.”
“there he is, woo woo woo!”
five minutes later, mina comes flying into the kitchen, nearly slipping on one of the loose streamers scattered across the hardwood. "everybody shut the fuck up! katsuki said they're pulling into the complex!" she yells, wildly waving her phone over her head.
immediately, the entire apartment falls into chaos. the handful of people already pregaming are being ushered away from windows, kirishima rushes to cut the music, and sero moves to cut the lights off. despite how much she'd complained about keeping a small group, mina had somehow managed to invite nearly forty people to an apartment that comfortably housed maybe fifteen. half of them denki recognized from your classes and various clubs, with the other half being mutual friends who'd apparently caught wind of the party somewhere along the way. there was barely any room to hide everyone without someone's ass or elbow poking out from behind furniture.
"if anybody ruins this, i swear to god…" mina whispers threateningly while crouching behind the couch with sero holding her close. kirishima had squeezed himself behind one of the curtains, his massive muscled shoulder very obviously sticking out from the side. oh well. denki shakes his head at the sight and moves further toward the kitchen doorway, pressing himself against the wall where he'd still have a good view of you coming in.
the lock clicks a few moments later and the apartment becomes so quiet denki could probably hear someone drop a pin from across the room. the front door swings open, your voice immediately carrying inside. "why is it so fucking dark in here?" you complain, followed by bakugou's unimpressed grunt as the two of you step further into the apartment.
"how the hell should i know?"
"you literally live here."
"no shit."
"so turn the lights on, genius."
"they're right fucking next to you."
there's the sound of your hand patting along the wall before your fingers find the switch, and the second the room lights up everyone jumps from their hiding places with one collective, ear-splitting, "SURPRISE!" with multiple people pulling confetti poppers in your direction.
you shriek, hand flying to your chest in complete bewilderment. "what the fuck!"
mina is already halfway across the room before anyone can answer. "happy birthday, bitch!" she squeals, throwing herself around you while you barely catch her in time. laughter fills the apartment again, everyone shouting some variation of happy birthday while you cling onto mina and continue staring over her shoulder.
"you knew about this?" you accuse as soon as mina releases you, whipping around toward bakugou. he stands there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, looking irritatingly pleased with himself.
"duh."
"you liar! you told me kirishima fucked up the dishwasher!"
from behind the crowd, kirishima raises a hand. "to be fair, i've done that before."
you stare at him in disbelief before turning back around, and it's only then that your attention properly lands on everything around you. denki watches your expression slowly shift as your eyes pass over all of the bells and whistles of the party.
your mouth opens slightly. "you guys did all this... for me?"
the question is so sincere that something immediately warms inside denki's chest. mina makes a dramatic noise of offense. "who else do we know with a birthday today?"
"i don't know!" you laugh, but your eyes have already started to look suspiciously glossy. "i just didn't think you guys were actually gonna do anything this big."
"that would be true if we were boring friends," sero jokes.
"you guys are so fucking sweet," you mumble, covering your mouth for a second before mina starts whining about you making her cry too. everyone begins crowding around you again and for a few moments denki is content standing where he is, watching you get passed between hugs while you laugh and complain about everyone crushing you. you finally spot him and your face brightens. "denks!"
he doesn't even get the chance to say anything smart before you're pushing your way through the people surrounding you and wrapping both arms around his neck. the force sends him stumbling back half a step, a genuine laugh bursting out of him as his arms naturally settle around you. "good god, lady. you're gonna take me out before you even get your cake."
"you knew too?!" you demand against his shoulder.
"nah, i just so happened to show up at bakugou's apartment with forty people."
your eyes flick back toward the pictures on the wall, specifically the childhood ones. "you brought those, didn't you!"
denki shrugs. "mina said she needed throwbacks."
your smile softens. "thank you."
suddenly, world order feels like it's been restored. denki looks at you, taking in how genuinely happy you look, and the ugly weight that's been sitting inside him for weeks finally ceases.
maybe sero was right.
he had been making everything so much bigger in his head than it needed to be. whatever was going on couldn't suddenly erase the time denki had known you or the fact that you still came running toward him the second you saw him. nobody else here could top that.
"okay!" mina claps loudly before the room can get overly emotional. "enough of all this sentimental bullshit. she's twenty-one and therefore legally obligated to get fucked uuuup!" everyone erupts into a wave of hoots and hollers, someone starting the music back up again loud enough denki can feel the bass through the floor.
within the first hour the living room is so packed that getting from one side to the other requires physically squeezing between bodies, and you seem determined to talk to everyone.
denki catches you in intervals throughout the night. you drag him into a group photo with mina and sero, and then a while later you steal the solo cup straight out of his hand and make a disgusted face at whatever he'd mixed for himself. "why does this taste like straight radiation?"
he's buzzed and surrounded by his friends, and you're laughing so hard you nearly spill your drink onto yourself every few minutes. he could enjoy this, no sweat. by the time mina starts screaming that it's cake time, everyone is properly drunk.
"everybodyyyyyyy!" mina shrieks from beside the dining table, standing on the tips of her toes so she can be seen over everyone. "cake time cake time!" the crowd migrates toward her immediately.
denki follows with his cup in hand, slipping between two people until he gets a clear view of the table. the red velvet cake sits in the center with twenty-one candles sticking out of the top, the little strawberries lining the edges exactly how he'd requested when he picked it up that morning.
you appear from somewhere near the hallway with bakugou close behind you. your cheeks are flushed from the alcohol and you have one hand wrapped loosely around his forearm to steady yourself as you weave through everyone. bakugou looks down at your hand but doesn't say anything, only shifting slightly so you have an easier path toward the table.
"oh my god!" you gasp when you see the cake. "there's strawberries!"
mina points dramatically across the table. "thank sparky over there. he was annoyingly specific about it." the warm fuzzy feeling washes over him when you give a lopsided smile.
someone turns off the overhead lights and mina starts lighting the candles while everyone crowds closer. the birthday song begins horribly off-key, sero deliberately singing louder than everyone else while kirishima somehow manages to come in a full beat late. you spend most of it laughing with one hand covering your face, complaining loudly that everyone sounds terrible. when they finally reach the end, the room erupts into claps.
"c'mon hon, make a wish!" mina gushes. you look at all of them for a moment before shutting your eyes, the candlelight flickering against your face while everyone waits. denki finds himself wondering what you're wishing for. after a beat, you inhale deeply and blow all twenty-one candles out at once. a roar of cheers ensue. sero immediately reaches toward the cake with a plastic fork until you smack his hand away.
"wait, wait!" you laugh. "can i say something before you animals demolish it?"
sero reluctantly retracts the fork. "make it quick."
"you're so greedy!" you put the cake knife down and look around the room, suddenly seeming a little more shy with everyone's attention focused on you. "okay, um... this is probably the alcohol talking, so nobody is allowed to make fun of me tomorrow."
"no promises," denki calls out.
you point at him. "especially you!" he grins.
you shake your head before continuing. "i know i said i didn't want some huge party, and clearly nobody here listens to me whatsoever, but... seriously, thank you. i don't think anybody's ever done something this nice for me before." your voice starts to wobble a little.
mina immediately makes a loud crying noise.
"mina!" you look at her with a worried frown.
"keep going, i'll make it!"
you laugh, but your own eyes are getting watery again. "i'm just really grateful. for all of you. even though half of you are annoying as fuck," several people boo.
"i love you guys too!" you defend through laughter. "that's why i can say it!"
you wipe at the corner of your eye before your attention shifts towards the blonde standing next to you. bakugou had been more quiet than usual throughout your little speech, nursing the same cup and surveilling the room. still, he stayed glued next to you almost the entire night. every time you disappeared into the crowd, you somehow ended up circling back to him within the hour.
"and you," you say, turning your body towards him.
bakugou raises a brow. "what about me?"
"thank you for lying to me all day." your smile was soft and genuine.
bakugou's expression changes ever so slightly. "you're welcome."
"asshole," you mutter through a giggle. you don't really think about what you do next.
you lean over and kiss him.
it's short and sweet, hardly more than a quick peck of your lips against his before you pull away again. your hand curls lightly around his forearm while you do it, and when you straighten back up you couldn't have been smiling harder. he, however, looks like someone just rearranged all of his brain cells in one shot. for once in his life, katsuki bakugou has absolutely nothing to say.
someone whistles from behind them and another person starts chanting bakugou's name until he snaps out of whatever brief stupor he'd been in. there's a faint flush creeping higher over his cheeks that has nothing to do with the alcohol, and before he can recover, mina's scream nearly blows out everybody's eardrums.
"OH MY GOD!"
"shut the fuck up!" he barks at her, ears burning bright crimson now. you bury your face in your hands. "you guys are so embarrassing."
mina latches onto your shoulders. "how long has this been happening?"
your head whips toward him. "excuse me?" he gives you the smallest smug grin. you smack his arm, which makes kirishima start hollering he knew it all along.
denki feels lightyears away watching the entire thing unravel. the euphoria he'd been clinging onto all night evaporated so fast it made him nauseous. he finally understood the part he had been refusing to acknowledge. he didn't want to compete with bakugou for the position of being your best friend. he wanted something more, something bakugou was apparently already getting.
denki turns away before anybody has the chance to notice his face. he notices that the bottle of tequila for shots is sitting abandoned beside the jungle juice. without giving it a second thought, he grabs it. unscrewing the cap and takes a long swig straight from the bottle. it burns violently going down, enough to make him squeeze his eyes shut and cough into his fist afterward. he pours some into the solo cup he was carrying, topping off whatever mystery combination of vodka and fruit punch was already sitting inside. the mixture tastes fucking disgusting when he takes another drink, but after that first swallow he doesn't seem to really care. all denki needs right now is for his brain to quiet down. enough so that he could stop replaying the kiss in perfect clarity, seeing that stupid fucking smile on your face afterward.
"yo."
sero's voice cuts through his thoughts. denki glances sideways and finds his roommate standing at the edge of the kitchen, watching him with that irritatingly perceptive look from earlier return.
"yo," denki answers back, lifting the cup to his mouth for a long sip.
sero's eyes move from the cup to the tequila bottle still sitting suspiciously close to denki's hand. "how much have you had?"
his speech is already slurring. "mm, dunno."
a scoff. "that's reassuring."
denki chuckles bitterly, taking another drink. "it's a party, dude."
"yeah, and you've been drinking since before she even got here." sero steps closer and reaches for the tequila. "maybe pump the brakes a little."
denki gets there first, fingers wrapping around the neck of the bottle and pulling it closer to himself. "i'm good."
sero starts to look really concerned. "i didn't say you weren't."
"then why the fuck are you counting my drinks like i'm some addict?" denki snarks out.
sero opens his mouth, but another voice comes in from behind him before he can answer.
"because you're acting sketchy as hell, sparks,"
mina squeezes into the kitchen beside her boyfriend, one hand holding a partially eaten piece of cake on a napkin. there had been a permanent smile plastered on her face since the cake cutting, but it was currently nowhere to be seen while she assesses denki. "you're totally piss drunk off your ass right now. you look like a jersey shore girl." mina reaches for the bottle too. "give me that, you're cut off."
denki yanks it away from her, irritation flaring. "can you guys seriously fuck off?"
sero's face hardens. "bro."
"what?" denki mutters, looking at both of them. "i'm twenty-one. i'm allowed to drink."
"nobody said you weren't allowed to drink," mina says, irritated, brows knitting together. we're trying to make sure you don't make yourself sick. sorry for caring."
he laughs humorlessly. "well, good thing nobody fucking asked you to."
mina blinks. sero's eyes narrow, immediately stepping between them and pulling her close. "alright, watch the dick tone. that's my girlfriend you're speaking to."
denki knows he's being an asshole. he can see it, somewhere beneath the alcohol he's had and the jealousy, there's still enough of the real him left to feel guilty about it. the feeling lasts about three seconds before another burst of laughter comes from the living room and his eyes betray him, flicking past both of them.
denki abandons his cup on the counter and pushes his way through the crowd, ignoring someone calling his name behind him. the sliding glass door near the back of the apartment takes two tries to unlock because his fingers aren't cooperating, but eventually he gets it open and stumbles onto the balcony. the cold air smacks him straight in the face. he sucks in a deep breath and grips both hands against the railing.
the door slides open behind him. denki doesn't need to look to know who it was.
"denks?"
he closes his eyes. "hey."
you slide the door shut behind you, footsteps approaching him across the concrete. "what are you doing out here? it's fucking freezing."
"i just needed some air."
"i figured as much." you stop beside him, leaning forward enough to try and decipher his face. denki turns slightly away. "you okay?"
"s'nothing." your face moves into a frown. "okay, that's bullshit."
"why'd you ask if you knew i wasn't gonna tell you the truth?"
your brows furrow, frustrated. "because i'm trying to have a conversation with you?"
"you really, really don't need to." he finally opens his eyes to look at you. they're insanely tired.
you cross your arms over your chest. "clearly, i do!"
you gesture toward the door behind you. "mina said you basically told her and sero to fuck off, and you've been drinking like crazy all night. now you're hiding outside by yourself. this isn't you, denks."
"and what the fuck would you know about how i am?" the second the words leave him, your face crumples a little.
your voice got a quieter this time. "what's that supposed to mean?"
there's a dull buzzing somewhere behind his ears from the music inside, and he can still see the reflection of the party lights flashing faintly against the glass door behind you. your birthday sash had slipped crooked across your chest at some point. the alcohol's making it take much longer than usual for him to process his own thoughts. he ignores rationale and speaks without a filter.
"you've had plenty of other shit keeping you busy lately."
you try to understand what exactly he's alluding to. then your eyes narrow slightly, head tilting. "is this about bakugou?"
the way you say the name makes his stomach lurch. denki shakes his head immediately and looks back toward the parking lot. "don't."
"oh my god, it is. this is about bakugou." you look properly bewildered now.
denki presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek. "you do whaaatever you want, and everybody else is supposed to roll with it." your entire body stills. "excuse me?"
"you want me to spell it out?"
you scoff indignantly, looking around. you can't believe what you're hearing right now. "go ahead then, enlighten me!"
he knows you well enough to know where every soft spot is. every insecurity you've ever cried about to him, every ugly thought you've confessed because you trusted him not to judge you.
"you crave attention. you make people feel special enough so they stick around. you're obsessed with having this whole fucking circle jerk of people who would drop everything for you because it makes you feel good about yourself."
"stop."
"and then somebody new comes along, and suddenly they're hot shit until you get bored again. the cycle continues. you just love to use people, huh?"
"denki, stop."
the second the words left him, denki understood just how badly he's fucking up. there's still one more horrible lie behind his teeth; and because he's angry, drunk and miserable, he says that one too. crash and burn, baby.
"you don't actually care about others as much as you think you do. you care about being cared about. because you know if they knew the real parts of you that i do, you know they'd leave you in an instant."
the first tear slips down your cheek, and you wipe it away absently. another follows before you can stop it. he takes a step toward you on instinct, but you move backward.
"don't."
"i didn't mean—"
"don't touch me."
your voice cracks badly. you turn and yank open the balcony door, the glass rattling in its frame when you shove it closed behind you. denki is left standing alone in the cold with nothing but the consequences of his badly conveyed jealousy. he deliberately picked the most painful things he could think of. the realization makes him feel deathly sick, but it could just be the alcohol catching up on him too. he drags the door open again and steps back into the apartment with all intents of leaving.
denki weaves the people as best he can, body heat making his head spin further. he bumps into a taller guy clad in black. he moves to pass a mumbled "sorry" until he looks up and recognizes the blonde.
bakugou doesn't move out of the way. he's standing there with one hand still wrapped around a half-empty bottle of water, expression unreadable. denki tries to step around him and bakugou shifts with him. the universe must've been having a great time watching him implode tonight.
"move man, i'm just gonna leave."
"nah, we're past that."
denki lets out a slow, tired breath. "i'm not doing this with you right now."
"good," bakugou says flatly. "… 'cus i'm not asking."
the crowd around them hasn't fully noticed the tense interaction yet. people are still talking over the music, wandering between the kitchen and living room with solo cups in hand. somewhere behind bakugou, kirishima is laughing with a girl until his eyes catch the two blondes standing directly in the walkway and the sound slowly dies in his throat.
"bakugou," kirishima calls out carefully. neither of them looks at him. bakugou keeps his eyes locked on denki. "you say some shit to her?"
denki swallows. he could lie and say you misunderstood him. maybe even blame the alcohol and save himself even a little bit. instead, denki looks him straight in the face. fuck it.
"yeah."
bakugou's nostrils flare.
kirishima makes his way over to the two. "bro, let's chill."
denki hears sero somewhere behind him now too, his voice cutting through the music when he notices what's happening. "oh, shit."
it happens so fast denki barely registers the movement before his head jerks sideways from the force of bakugou's knuckles, stumbling into the wall with a loud thud and slump down. he tastes a mix of copper, something burning bad inside his mouth. the room gets tundra cold, and you scream at the sight you've returned to. kirishima lunges between them immediately while sero grabs bakugou from behind, hooking both arms around his shoulders before he can move forward again.
"what the fuck, bakugou!" sero's shout finally breaks whatever stunned silence had fallen over the room.
"get the fuck off me," bakugou snarls, trying to shove past kirishima. his face is twisted with rage now, all of the eerie calm from thirty seconds ago completely gone. "i'm not fuckin' done."
"yeah, you are!" kirishima snaps, something unusually serious cutting through his voice. he shoves bakugou back another step. "you're done, bro."
a soft wail is heard from behind them and denki's head turns sluggishly towards it. you were completely speechless at the scene. your eyes are still red from crying, mascara faintly smudged underneath them that you tried wiping off in the bathroom. a few people have already started whispering amongst themselves, the nosier ones blatantly staring like this is some kind of campus drama unfolding for their entertainment instead of your birthday completely falling apart in front of everyone.
"what the fuck…" your voice comes out thin. bakugou's attention snaps toward you, the anger visibly leaving his face the second he actually sees you.
"hey, wait—"
"… no."
you lift one hand weakly.
bakugou shuts up.
mina steps away from you and moves toward the center of the room, clapping her hands loudly enough that nearly everybody looks at her. "alright, party's over. if you don't live here, pack your shit and file out." there's an awkward pause before people start moving.
they begin scooping up purses, jackets and abandoned phones while avoiding eye contact with the group of guys. a few of your closer friends try to approach you before leaving, but mina intercepts them with polite little smiles and assures that you'll be okay. she continues, voice firm as she points toward the door. "i love y'all, thanks for coming, whatever, but we're done for the night."
denki watches all of it from where he's managed to push himself upright against the wall. his head feels like shit, but his stomach definitely feels worse. none of that matters compared to the sight of you standing there looking completely detached from your own birthday party. he feels sero's hand grab his upper arm.
"up."
denki looks toward him, but sero isn't even looking at his face.
"i can stand."
"cool." his voice is flat and fully uninterested.
denki tries to straighten on his own anyway, and immediately has to catch himself against the wall when his balance shifts. sero's grip tightens to help but he doesn't say anything else.
kirishima finally releases bakugou once it's obvious he isn't going to swing again. bakugou jerks his shirt straight and steps away, jaw still tense while his eyes stay glued toward you. you're not looking at him, nor denki. once the last person had left, mina crouches beside you near the couch.
"you're staying with me tonight."
you blink at her, nodding. "okay."
denki doesn't try to say goodbye. there isn't anything he could say that wouldn't make the room feel worse, so when sero starts guiding him toward the door, he lets himself be moved without protest. he catches one last glimpse of you as mina pulls you into her side, your head dropping against her shoulder while she rubs slowly over your back.
the door shuts behind him and sero immediately drops his arm from around him, walking several steps ahead toward the elevator without saying a word. denki follows quietly.
"sero," he tries once when the elevator doors close, but sero's jaw only tightens as he stares at the numbers above them. denki waits another few seconds before murmuring, "i know i fucked up." sero finally glances toward him, and there's none of the usual annoyance or sarcasm in his expression. "i really don't wanna fucking talk to you right now, man." that shuts denki up for the rest of the ride home.
when they finally reach their apartment, sero disappears straight into his bedroom and shuts the door. denki stands alone for a long time before pulling out his phone.
your conversation is still pinned at the top, the last message from earlier that night asking where he was because you wanted him in another picture.
denki was sure he lost more than just you that night.
i think i blacked out at one point but 😃 yay...!
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Katsuki, still in his hero suit, stumbled into the underground bar where you worked. Exhaustion oozing from every pore on his toned body and a tired frown on his usually intense face. He sat in the corner booth tucked in the shadows, nursing a cup of bourbon in one scarred hand. He hadn’t expected to find peace in the middle of downtown, but when you began to sing something in his chest eased.
You sat perched on a wooden stool wearing a flowy dress with a thin jacket over your shoulders, guitar on your thigh as delicate fingers plucked at its strings. Your honey sweet voice filled the dimly lit bar, some customers dropping dollar bills into a tip jar while others whistled and clapped. You held his gaze when you met his tired eyes, the room fading from view and your performance suddenly feeling like a private show.
Katsuki sat unmovingly listening to you sing, staring at you through half lidded eyes wondering if this voice was a quirk or a gift sent just for him. Your voice soothed the anger and annoyance that lived in his demeanor with every verse. His breathing unconsciously slowed into a steady, automatic rhythm while his hands unclenched from their permanent fist on the table. The entire establishment recognized him, being a Pro Hero will get that for you, but no one could understand the look he was giving you. A look that resembled gratitude.
You sang to be the background in everyone's conversation, but his attention was solely on you. Fans came up to try and talk to him, but he didn't bother reacting. He ignored them till they left, and your smile pulled wider. You felt a sense of pride, having the Dynamight’s attention on you. You wondered why you felt this way when there was no sure confirmation other than the look in his eyes, but in more ways there were.
Katsuki's phone was faced down on the table during your entire set, never once picking it up when it vibrated. Forgotten bourbon sat untouched in front of him, the ice melting and condensation dripping to meet the wooden table. He hadn’t muttered a word since you began, no threats leaving his lips, no annoyed ‘tchs’ at passing fans, not even a scowl.
You thought that’s all it would be, a one time stop for a drink after his long shift. But then he came back the next night, and the night after that, no drink or excuse in sight. He simply sat in the same corner and waited to hear your voice. After two weeks, he finally asked for your number, which sounded more of a demand but nonetheless you gave it to him with a warm smile.
Katsuki would call at randoms points throughout the day just to hear you say his name in that sweet tone through the phone. “Katsuki! Hey! I was just thinking about you, I saw this-” would have his body releasing tension without realizing. He loved when you sent voice memos instead of messages while you were driving and couldn't type. He was often seen walking around his agency with his phone to his ear listening to your message like a podcast episode.
One night, you were packing up your guitar neatly into its case after a performance, tucking a loose strand of hair away from your face with manicured fingers. “Oi.” A gruff voice made your head turn, your cheeks heating immediately as Katsuki's towering frame stood in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest. Regardless of how much you guys talk, he always made you feel like a school girl with a crush. You abandoned your guitar and stood up properly facing him, smoothing out your dress and saying a sweet hello.
“Thursday night, you busy?” Katsuki asked, the overhead amber lights of the bar creating an outline around his broad frame. You smiled and said, “After work no, I’m not.” His eyebrows furrowed in what seemed like hesitation before looking behind you to the nearby wall, suddenly unable to meet your eye. “Go out with me on Thursday.” He said, his tone suggestive and unusually small. You mentally high fived yourself before responding, “I’d love to.”
Katsuki looked at you like you'd just handed him the stars before quickly replacing that shock with a soft scowl. “Good. Italian restaurant next door, 7 PM.” Before you could respond he was already turning on his heel and walking unnecessarily fast out the door. You stood in place giggling as the door shut behind him.
Once you started dating, you spent overnight over at his house. Katsuki would press a kiss to the crown of your head before asking, "What's that one song?”, voice laced with exhaustion from a long day of yelling at extras. You chuckled and said, “The one that goes..” before singing the song you knew he wanted. He groaned and pulled you closer. After a couple verses, his eyes closed and his breathing evened out. His toned chest rising and falling steadily under your cheek. You smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to his skin before closing your eyes thinking he's asleep. Seconds pass in silence until, “One more time baby.”
a/n: wrote this with The Ballad of Lucy Gray Baird playing on repeat.
the plush, fluffy material felt almost foreign between his dirty fingertips. his scarred thumb running over the beady little black eyes. they peered up at him, innocent and cute. your pink little teddy, as soft and pretty as you.
there was a blush-like ribbon adorned around its neck, threatening to break with every thrust of his cock. the chubbed, thickness of him ran shades deeper than the pretty teddy, disappearing into the cottony inside. the friction alone was enough to have his eyes watering, his thighs shaking, hips reaching, reeling up off the bed.
and simon thrashed, rolling onto his side, hips fucking up into the messy hole he’d cut. god, he was fucking desperate. jaw dropped, mouth hung open, he could feel the drool, the spit seeping from his mouth onto your duvet but he couldn’t get a hold of himself. if anything, he liked it, to think maybe your perfect little cunt would sit right down on his sticky spit, unknowingly claiming you.
and your poor teddy, just barely bigger than his hand was being put through it. taking each and every thrust. he could hear the threads ripping, cock bullying its way in, however he pleased, at whatever rate it pleased. without a single apology, without a drop of empathy.
tears welled in his eyes, shame silenced with the pleasure. he was getting close, the insides of the teddy absolutely painted with his silky pre. every stroke stuck to him, the fibers wrapping and adorning his sweet cock just like that ribbon. he could see the scruffy fluff with every backstroke, knotted around him. it was beautiful, he imagined the ring your drooling pussy would leave on him, just like the pretty lipgloss you always wear, all sparkly and sticky.
his chubby fingers flexed around the stuffie, grabbing tight. he allowed himself to meet every messy, nasty, shudder of his hips. and the weight that hung between his legs clapped, balls sticky and shining with just how much of a gooey mess he was overspilling, just making an absolute mess of himself on your bed.
“so-so close, baby, just…. just fucking take it. you’re my good girl, yeah? gonna fill you up, baby, f-fuck you so full.” he hammered, rolling his face down into your sheets. he smothered himself, breathing in every fraction of a scent he possibly could get out of the material. and than his teeth sank, biting, tongue pressed at the backs of them as he cried out, throat raw with all his pathetic sobs.
“you’re just so- ah, ah, no no-“ he slowed himself, balls drawn, spine curved. fuck, he was so close, too close. but, impatience was trickling down his spine, the same spine his release was lingering on, body unable to help itself as he shoved forward, a shaky, desperate thrust, his sensitive tip blunt knocking against the head of the bear.
“so fucking pretty.” it was guttural, ripped from his throat, as he shallowly humped himself into your little bear, soaking and knotting the fibers inside with a disgusting mess. he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but drown inside his own release, blonde brows screwed tight as he whimpered out like some kind of puppy.
and when hed finally gotten himself to pull out of the warm, melty cotton, he’d place the bear right down on your pillow. a sick, confection like satisfaction growing as he watched his own release melt down over your sheets.
❤︎ SYNOPSIS: you and kastuki invite eijirō on your two-year anniversary trip to hawaii. unfortunately, you’re quite the tease. are you the asshole?
❤︎ CONTENT: alternate universe - modern au, one bed trope (kinda), teasing, alcohol, grinding, choking, handjobs, everyone is impatient and horny, switch!everyone, nipple stimulation, hair pulling (eijirō), panty ripping, fingering, edging (f receiving), crying (eijirō), penetrative sex … 18+, minors and ageless blogs DNI.
❤︎ XOXO, PUMA: thank you so much for 2k followers, what the hell?! i'm flabbergasted, befuddled, and overall, extremely thankful.
♫ NOW PLAYING: she is my drug, amaarae.
read on ao3 | 15.2k words | part one | masterlist.
r/AmITheAsshole
u/cyberch!ck69
AITA FOR ASKING MY BOYFRIEND'S ROOMMATE TO BE A THIRD WITHOUT ASKING MY BOYFRIEND'S ROOMMATE TO BE A THIRD?
lemme explain.
i [26f] and my boyfriend [26m] have a crush on our roommate/best friend. it was a secret i was planning on taking to my grave, because best friends can be hot sometimes, but i wasn’t about to do anything about it, either. then, my boyfriend got like really really drunk one day, and confessed. snot and tears and all. (don’t tell him i said that.) he explained that he still loved me, but he also kinda-sorta loved his best friend, and honestly, it was kind of a relief? like, cool, so i can keep liking him too.
we had a plan to make him our third. it didn’t work, but it was a plan. a seduction plan that failed miserably bc apparently his roommate is a goddamn saint and probably the bestest friend anyone could ever have and won’t do SHIT. so, we made a new plan—take him with us on our two year anniversary trip to hawaii. simple. easy.
except…my boyfriend thinks that i already talked to him about being a third, but i really haven’t. i just invited him on the trip hoping he got the hint LMAO
i don’t think he got the hint.
am i the asshole?
serious responses only. LOL
miyanolovessasaki
i’m…a little confused…
alienqueen
Rip the bandaid off and tell him girl, because what happens when y’all get there and he’s not down?
jetblackwings
RESIST DARK REUNION, ACCEPT YOUR URGES (nta.)
s.geto
I have a question.
Eijiro was working out when you came to him with the…proposition.
Yeah. You.
“Hey, Eiji,” you ask, poking your head into the room. Eijiro doesn’t hear you, but he sees you, and takes a headphone off before racking the weights.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Eijiro still sweats anytime you’re in his relative vicinity. He’s gotten better at it, but you make eye contact like a motherfucker—staring past red irises and into his soul, perceiving all the secrets he keeps safe, in little boxes with little organized titles. You make him want to spill his guts.
“Kat and I are going to Hawaii in a few weeks, and we're wondering if you could come,” you smile, unassuming and confident, like Eijiro doesn’t know what’s in a few weeks. What date it is.
The two year anniversary of his fucking suffering.
(Technically, you’ve only been moved in for a year, but his suffering began the day you and Katsuki met, so.)
“Oh, um, are you sure?” Eijiro wipes clammy hands on his basketball shorts as you enter the room and take a seat on the exercise bench. You literally have clothes on, a casual sweatsuit fit, and Eijiro’s already drooling. He needs to get a grip.
(Or a girlfriend, his brain helpfully supplies, but that’s not fair to his hypothetical girlfriend. Not when Eijiro has yet to find anyone that measures up to you, holy shit—)
“Yes,” you giggle, like his response is strange. Eijiro’s brain is busy reeling, busy trying to decipher what this invite really means, that he misses your next sentence.
“Sorry—what did you say?”
“Just that it’d be more fun if you were there,” you wave your words off like they’re unimportant, but they are so, so important. Eijiro still doesn’t know what to make of it, though, and eventually gives up. He licks his lips and nods dutifully. He shouldn’t go—it seems like a very bad, not so good idea to go, but will he? Absolutely.
He can picture it now: you and Katsuki, late at night, getting down and dirty in the bed across from his, as quiet as you can, while he squints through closed eyes and jacks himself off into a pathetic state. And then, he sleeps in it, because what the fuck is he going to do—get up to clean himself off? Tell on himself?
“Okay, then I’ll go,” he smiles, and tries his best to hide the myriad of emotions pressing in on his lungs. Excitement, nervousness, confusion. Misery. It’s like Inside Out, but worse.
“Okay, great!” You clap twice, adjusting to, for some reason, get more comfortable in your seat. “Do you mind if I stay to watch?”
Eijiro waits for the other ball to drop. For you to explain that Kat is in the shower, or not even home, and you’re overwhelmingly bored—but, no. Nothing. That was the end of your sentence.
What the fuck.
“Yeah, sure,” he says, a little breathless and a lot confused. You stay for the duration of his workout, quiet as a mouse, and just…watching…
Eijirō nearly drops the barbell on his toes.
s.geto
I have a question.
cyberch!ck69
i have an answer.
s.geto
What do I do in this exact scenario if I’m the boyfriend?
The resort is so nice.
The lobby is open and airy, with poles instead of walls, and leads straight to the beach. Eijirō can see it. Can smell the salt in the air and hear seagulls squawking over food. As Katsuki talks to the concierge and checks in, Eijirō looks out to see calm and blue waters, poorly tamping his excitement with an impatient, bouncing foot. He, also, promptly pushes the last time he went to the beach out of his mind. Nope, not even thinking about it.
“Race you to the sea?” You ask, saddling up beside him. Eijirō shrugs.
“Sure.”
Immediately, you take off—leaving your bags behind and everything—and out the opening that leads to the water.
“Wait, right now?!” Eijirō squeaks, and looks to Katsuki, who isn’t paying either of you much mind, too busy barking at the concierge about something, probably their organizational practices, or another thing equally as trivial.
Eijirō makes a break for it.
He sees you weaving and cutting past cabanas, tripping over blankets and children, and follows the path your feet left in the sand, stomping them five sizes bigger. You’re both still sweaty in airplane clothes that are in no way conducive to these temperatures, but he makes it work—even if he ends up with sand in his sweats in the process.
It isn’t difficult to catch up to you, all things considered. Eijirō feels bad, debates on letting you win—until you turn around and stick a tongue out. Then, it’s fucking on.
“Gotcha!”
He snatches your waist just before the sea, swinging you around in tight arms before you can cross the imaginary finish line. After putting you down, he steps both feet into the ocean and cheers at your pout, doing a little victory dance.
“Aha! I win, I win, I wi—hey!”
Eijirō gets a face full of salt water, drenching him down his side and deepening the shade of his grey sweatsuit. The water is warm, but he chokes from shock regardless, and turns to look at his perpetrator with a new challenge in his eyes. You gulp.
“Wait, I didn’t—fuck!”
You whine when he pours a handful of water over your head. You accept your fate, sighing with your head down and hands open. Your white shirt sticks flush to your body, giving Eijirō the pleasure of revealing your bra underneath, and that’s—
“Oi, the fuck are you two doing?!”
Katsuki comes storming up to the shoreline, shaking sand out of his slides and grumbling with every other step. You and Eijirō stand in the water, white wake pooling around your ankles as the tide starts to recede. Katsuki huffs.
“It was his idea!” You point at the redhead to your right, who gapes at your audacity. For that, you get another handful of water over the head. “Wha—c’mon!”
“No, you both c’mon,” Katsuki hisses, pulling out three cards from his back pocket. “Got the room keys. You Dumbasses can frolic in the ocean afterwards.”
You two grouse, but agree. Because, Eijirō’s sweatpants stick to his thighs most uncomfortably, starting to stiffen from the salt—and you need a better shirt, preferably one that’s not white and wet and doesn’t highlight your bra beneath. So he can be sane again.
(He can’t help but feel like that sentence was all ‘Eijirō, Eijirō, Eijirō’ but also, guys, please—)
Katsuki walks to the hotel room with two soggy cats in his wake.
The pathways are just as open and airy as the lobby, with no walls on one side to provide a proper outlook to the ocean, and numbered rooms on the other. Theirs is on the top floor of the hotel, and luckily, not much of a shuffle from the elevator.
The room is just as nice as the hotel.
It’s spacious—Eijirō wouldn’t even classify it as a room, but a small apartment. There’s a kitchen and living room, all matching in a calming mahogany wood. Wood floors, wooden ceilings, wooden…wood, until everything but the soft furniture melts into one cohesive image. A pair of sliding doors lead to a balcony spanning the whole room, including the one bedroom—
Um.
“There’s only one bedroom,” Eijirō asks, because the hotel must have made a mistake. Not only is there only one bedroom, but one bed. The bed is big, sure—like, an Alaskan fucking King, more than enough to fit three comfortably—but this isn’t his anniversary, too.
(And yes, he knows his earlier fantasy is contingent on him technically sleeping in the same room, but the same bed is just—)
“Mm,” Katsuki grunts in acknowledgement. That’s about all he gets before you two drag your suitcases inside the bedroom, leaving Eijirō hovering in the doorway. He can sleep on the couch. That’s fine.
“What’re you waitin’ for, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki grumbles as he starts folding his clothes away, and to be honest, he isn’t exactly sure. Maybe for someone to tell him where to go.
“Yeah, c’mon! Feel the bed, it’s so comfy!” And, you’re jumping onto it back first. You hit the pillows with a muted pfft, and Katsuki immediately jumps into action.
“You’re all fuckin’ wet, get off,” he swats at your feet in encouragement, but you kick his hands away, and snuggle on top of the covers. When swatting fails, Katsuki starts to lightly tug at your legs. You don’t budge, and he stands over you with a warning in his eyes, hands on his hips.
“Babe.”
“No.”
“Baby.”
“No, Kats, I’m comfy.”
You wiggle deeper into the mattress, and Katsuki growls. He goes for your legs again, but a foot shoots out to kick him in his knee, his bad knee, leaving his leg to buckle. He catches himself before he falls with hands on either side of your head. This feels like a very intimate, very domestic situation that Eijirō should not be privy to, and yet, he is. Every day.
He’s okay. He’s fine, really.
“Move your ass,” Katsuki says after a long inhale through the nose, carefully, voice low and words over-enunciated. “Or, I’ll move it for you.”
You groan, but loop your arms around Katsuki’s neck like you aren’t going anywhere. With a laugh in your eyes, you bite back a grin. “No.”
“Fine,” Katsuki huffs, picking you up by the waist. You squeal, legs wrapping around his torso as he carries you to a desk in the corner of the room and drops you rather unceremoniously. You don’t let go, though. He doesn’t make you. “You piss me off.”
“Wow, my boyfriend is so big and strong,” you whine, completely overexaggerating, while caressing Katsuki by his shoulders. You giggle when he sighs.
“Shut the ever-loving fuck up. Please.”
“Why?” Your hand snakes from his shoulder to tangle in the nape of his neck, and Katsuki shivers. Eijirō lingers in the doorway. “Like it too much?”
Katsuki stands there for a second, relishing the feeling of your hands. His eyes flutter shut as your fingers card through his hair with something precious, and his next grumble has a lot less fire in it. “Do you wanna go to the beach or not?”
Finally, he unsticks you himself, with fingers around your wrists. You squeal at the sheer mention of the beach, squirming off the desk to start getting ready. “Ooh, yes! I’m gonna get all the Piña Coladas!”
“Let’s start with one,” Katsuki says, pressing a kiss to your temple before he resumes his unpacking. Why he insists on moving into every hotel he’s stayed in is lost to Eijirō. All he knows is that he’s happy his torture is over. For now.
“Are you gonna keep standing there like a weirdo?” Katsuki says, eyes focused on his activities. Eijirō knows it's directed at him—he’s the only one lingering. The only one ‘standing there like a weirdo.’ Eijirō grabs his things.
“Right. Right.”
cyberch!ck69
talk to them?
s.geto
You’re useless.
cyberch!ck69
fine then, suffer in silence idgaf
When Eijirō finds time to get over himself, he realizes there is something about this that feels way too natural.
“That lady is staring at me weird—I’m gonna fight her.”
“No, you’re not,” Katsuki grunts, and grabs your hand before you can even consider getting up. Eijirō doesn’t really expect you to—you only say these things to give Katsuki a hard time, and he always falls for it, hook, line, and sinker. To the point that Eijirō is starting to think maybe he wants to. That maybe, that’s the whole point. “That’s just how old people look. They forget it’s fuckin’ rude to stare.”
Despite the all-inclusive resort, you three spend the first night eating out at a small restaurant not too far away. It’s a quaint and quiet barbecue spot, with cheap liquor and decent food. You insisted on going out, seeing the town, doing something, and despite Katsuki’s passionate argument—‘the whole point of an all-inclusive is to go fuckin’ nowhere’—he caved quick once it was two against one. (What? Eijirō wants to see the town, too—and he has a soft spot for cute girls with even cuter pouts.)
“I think that would count as elder abuse,” Eijirō says, once swallowing his food and getting a look at your newly proclaimed enemy. Empty shot glasses litter the table, some in stacks of three to make room for the food, and everyone sways a little from it all.
“Definitely does,” Katsuki sniffles and nods. He’s the most obviously drunk at this table—face flushed a bright pink and shirt collar askew. “Definitely would go to jail for it, too. I dunno how to get you outta Hawaiian jail, Babe.”
“Boo! Bribe them,” you heckle, throwing a big thumbs down in Katsuki’s face, and getting in the way of his barbecue chicken sandwich. Katsuki grunts and swats at the air twice until your thumb goes away. “Ooh! Or we could tunnel out, like El Chapo, or those guys from Alcatraz—”
“Those guys tunneled from the inside-out. ’M not going to jail with you.”
“Well—wait, no,” Eijirō says, gesturing to you. “What if we tunnel from the outside, and you tunnel from the inside, and we meet in the middle—”
“Omg, omg, I need spoons and a poster—”
“And, people are naturally corrupt, y’know, I’m sure there’s someone we could find to smuggle it inside—”
“You’re not goin’ to jail,” Katsuki groans through grit teeth, pointing at you, before his finger shifts to his friend across the booth. “And you’re not helping her escape from jail.”
“Oh wow, my boyfriend hates me,” you nod, picking at your food with a fork. Katsuki snatches a cherry tomato off Eijirō’s plate and stuffs it between your lips to keep you quiet. You spit it back out. “Would you even love me if I was a worm?”
Katsuki chucks his head back like this is a question you’ve asked many times before, and groans with nothing but pure frustration. “The fuck does that even mean?”
“It means ‘would you love her no matter what,’ Bro!”
“Thank you, Eiji,” you nod solemnly, suddenly, like this is a life-or-death conversation. “See? He gets it.”
“I’m gonna,” Katsuki incenses, looking at you with something heavier than just annoyance, something Eijirō, unfortunately, has seen too often to not understand—arousal. Suddenly, Eijirō feels like he’s shifting in the doorway of something unknown, again. Katsuki grabs your cheek and pinches. “You’ve been pissin’ me off all day.”
“Oh? And what’cha gonna do about it,” you smile smug past the distortion. Katsuki lets go of your face, and pats the sore area twice. Eijirō looks down at his plate. He’s not even here. He doesn’t even exist. (But, is he watching this entire interaction with one eye open? Perhaps.)
“You don’t wanna know,” Katsuki grunts in passing as he returns to his sandwich. Eijirō lets out a soft breath. This is going to be a rough trip.
“Well,” you say after a few moments of silence, clapping your hands together like they’re cymbals, calling to attention. “Now that I have a sufficient amount of liquid courage in me, it’s time to tell Eijirō the thing.”
Katsuki freezes—as does Eijirō.
“You didn’t tell him the thing,” Katsuki grumbles, looking at you like you’ve grown two heads. “I thought you told him the thing.”
“He’s here, isn’t he?” You argue, but when Katsuki’s look doesn’t budge, you deflate a little. “…I chickened out.”
“Again,” Katsuki adds with a sigh, running a hand over his face. Then, he redirects his gaze to Eijirō. “No wonder you’ve been acting weird.”
“Um,” Eijirō releases his own food to put hands in his lap. Would ‘the thing’ explain why he’s here in the first place? Because, if so, he’d like to know. “What thing?”
As you steeple hands in front of your face, Eijirō takes a sip of his Sprite. Sprite always tastes better when it comes in a cup instead of a can. He doesn’t know why—something about the fizziness, the freshness of it all. Honestly, he prefers Cherry Sprite, but that’s because he really likes cherry, and strawberry, and honestly, most things red, now that he thinks about it—
“I wanna watch you fuck her.”
Eijirō spits out his Sprite—he’s sure some came out of his nose with the propulsion, Jesus fuck—and possibly soaking his shirt in the process.
“I’m—sorry, what?”
Despite Eijirō’s respiratory distress, Katsuki watches with relative bemusement. You pass him a napkin, and Eijirō takes it thankfully.
“What part of that didn’t you get, Shitty Hair.”
“No, no, I—” Eijirō gives himself a few more seconds, a few more deep breaths, and slips half a grounding technique in there, just in case. “Just, like—I think I heard you correctly, but I’m—but I’m really not sure—”
“I wanna watch you fuck her,” Katsuki just…repeats, like Eijirō’s entire world hasn’t flipped on its axis. Like Atlas isn’t officially hanging upside-down, with his legs in the sky like a dying bug, flailing for any sort of friction to upright himself.
“So—” Eijirō starts, and coughs twice into a napkin before redirecting his question. “Why.”
“Because he thinks you’re hot,” you whisper, cupping a hand over your lips so Katsuki can’t read them. Not that it matters—you’re not muttering very quietly. “And so do I.”
Eijirō’s not sure if his face gets red, but he feels it, that heat. That overwhelming sensation to burn and melt away into nothing, and he’s simply trying to tamp it down, keep it safe, so he doesn’t end up making a fool of himself in this very nice, very clearly family-owned establishment.
He nods, though. You bet your ass he fucking nods.
He’d be stupid as fuck to pass this up, and Eijirō Kirishima does not take his curse words lightly.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
jetblackwings
RESIST DARK REUNION, ACCEPT YOUR URGES
kusuo_saiki
why are you everywhere i go
jetblackwings
fate, bro
Your energy is endless, and the next stop is a club.
It goes how it always does—you want something, Katsuki says no. Eijirō says it’s not that bad. Katsuki says fine.
The club is more packed than he expects. It’s not too far from the hotel, the place is full of foreigners, tourists looking for a good time on vacation, and then some. The theme is somewhat tropical, with warm orange lights, a smoke machine, and tree ferns in every corner. You hold onto Eijirō’s thumb and Katsuki’s wrist, yelling over your shoulder and above the heavy afrobeat that makes the floor rattle under his feet.
“Let’s go to the bar!”
“Where they sell overpriced shots?!” Katsuki yells back, almost immediately. You roll your eyes. “Absolutely not!”
And yet, you drag both of them closer to the bar, and further from the front door.
“I just want one,” you holler, and pull out that irresistible pout Eijirō loves so much. Fucked. He’s fucked. “If it’s really that deep, I’ll buy them!”
The bar counter is vaguely sticky, and the four working bartenders look a mess, screaming over the music to grab something, but no one can hear. There are two seats open—Eijirō takes one, Katsuki takes the other, and you take Katsuki’s lap.
“’M not letting my girlfriend buy me a shot,” Katsuki huffs, and pulls his wallet out from his back pocket. After waving a bartender over, he grumbles, “Three shots of Kauaʻi Coconut Rum.”
“Oh, boohoo,” you whine, dropping your head back on his shoulder. Then, with one eye open, “Eijirō would let me buy him a shot.”
“Hey! Don’t bring me into this,” Eijirō chuckles, resting a forearm against the counter. Sticky. Immediate regret floods his system, but he’s made his bed and proceeds to lie in it.
“Am I wrong?” You lift an eyebrow. Eijirō stutters.
Because, if a pretty girl bought him a shot, would he let her? Yeah, probably. And, if you bought him a shot, would he let you? Absolutely.
But, that’s neither here nor there.
“Shitty Hair…”
“Guys, I’m not a part of this,” he whines, and as if on cue, their shots slide across the counter. Everyone grabs hold of theirs.
“Okay, wait, wait, I wanna do a toast,” you sniff, a little wobbly. You lift your shot glass, waiting for the rest of them to follow suit. Eijirō doesn’t hesitate, and while Katsuki grumbles, he raises his own. Then, with your chest, you yell, “To me, getting plowed!”
Katsuki drops his head on your shoulder. Thank God you made the toast before they took shots to the head, or Eijirō would be choking all over again.
“Baby, you can’t just—”
“Why would you even—”
You pay their plight no mind, chucking your head back as you swallow the shot. Eijirō follows; he needs one after that, and is wildly unsatisfied when he realizes it’s watered down.
Katsuki sets his glass down with a clink and a growl.
“’Kay, can we fuckin’ go, now?”
“No!” You bark, sliding off his legs unceremoniously. You slip a little, and Eijirō catches you by the waist before you can stumble into him, and tries not to think about how well you fit. When he lets go, he still feels your warmth burning into his palms. His fist opens and closes on his thigh. “I wanna dance!”
Katsuki leans his head back, and groans.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Eijirō!”
You both say his name at the exact same time, like he’s been deemed the official tie-breaker—like it’s his fault you two argue like an old married couple, and he needs to fix his mess. When Eijirō shrinks in his seat, looking at Katsuki, both of you know what his answer is.
“Fuckin’—fine,” Katsuki huffs and stands almost as clumsy as you. You giggle a yay, and take Eijirō’s hand before he has a chance to stand.
“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” you bounce. Eijirō comes stumbling behind you—because, for someone with little feet, you move real fast—and you find a corner of the dance floor to make your own.
The beat grows in volume and aggression the closer they get to the dance floor. With a steady grip on both of their hands, you start jumping up and down, yanking at their arms to bounce with you. Katsuki grumbles something with a straight face—Eijirō starts hopping along, until it’s a two-person mosh pit, with Katsuki’s unimpressed shoulders jerking under the weight.
“C’mon, Kat!” Eijirō yells over the music. Katsuki looks at him, but his feet are firmly planted on the ground.
“Please,” you whine when he doesn’t budge. Eijirō thinks that Katsuki’s arms would be crossed if they could. “You’ll have fun!”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. His heels rise and drop, slowly, completely against the beat, and without the balls of his feet separating from the tiled floor. “This is not fun.”
“Because you’re not doing it right!” Eijirō says, tugging him closer. Katsuki stumbles forth. “You gotta jump!”
“It’s too late for this shit,” Katsuki huffs, but jumps. Once. “I don’t know how you two are grown-ass adults with this type of energy.”
You quit your jumping, chest heaving in a pant, and sweating skin glistening under halogen lights. Eijirō follows suit, a little less out of breath, but you were going hard. Katsuki exhales, thankful his torture is over, for now.
The song changes into something slower. Not too slow; a trap beat still hides underneath, but slow enough to calm his hammering heart. Eijirō has always loved clubs—enough alcohol to make people friendly, the humid atmosphere from too many bodies in one place, the way the music is all-consuming enough to block out the buzz of the world…
Eijirō shakes himself out of his reminiscent stupor to see Katsuki draped over your back. His hands hold your hips steady, swaying, and while you aren’t grinding, you’re pretty damn close.
You grab Eijirō by his shirt.
The redhead takes a deep, steadying breath. He’s not sure whether it's the alcohol or the sight that makes his head spin. Maybe, it’s the fact that he’s included, for the first time.
All he knows is that he really, really does not want to fuck this up.
No pressure.
His hands find your hips, running over Katsuki’s. He looks at his friend, double-checking if this is okay, if he’s crossing a line. Katsuki’s nose is in your neck, brushing against your jaw, utterly unbothered. He takes it as an O.K.
You hum, arms wrapping around Eijirō’s neck to the best of your ability. He’s not sure you’re even standing, simply leaning your weight against Katsuki, and trusting Eijirō enough to keep you from falling forward. There isn’t much space for you to, anyway. Your chin is pressed flush against his chest, looking up at him like he has something you want, and he’s not exactly sure what to do about that.
He lets a ‘fuck’ slip, quiet enough to fit under his breath and completely involuntary. It’s not his fault—your lip gloss glistens in the shifting light, and he can’t stop looking at it. Katsuki mutters something into your neck, and you giggle, hips shifting forward so you can grind against Eijirō, too.
He’s losing his mind, a little.
Because, this feels better than he could’ve imagined—you fit better than he could’ve imagined. The alcohol, the lights, and the faint fog soften the edges of everything, to the point where it feels like he’s walking in a very vivid dream, like he’ll wake up at the most inopportune time, sweaty, sad, and probably rock hard. Katsuki groans under his breath, and Eijirō finally peels his eyes away from your face to notice that his friend isn’t doing much better.
“God, this is fuckin’ hot,” Katsuki grunts, and you giggle with a bottom lip tucked between your teeth, eyes way too bright with excitement. Eijirō huffs a laugh.
“Cool, ‘cause I was thinking the same thing.”
Katsuki grunts again, and grinds into you harder, heavier. You don’t stumble forward, but you would’ve if the redhead weren’t there to take the brunt of the blow.
One of Eijirō’s hands starts to wander.
Completely of its own volition—he was totally content to keep them at your sides, swear—it caresses your waist, running up and down, contemplating the feel of your skin under your dress. He takes another deep inhale, for his sanity.
Katsuki, on the other hand, lost his sanity a long time ago.
One of his hands leaves your hip, too—the one that’s not still trapped under Eijirō’s own—sliding up your stomach, over your breasts. Eventually, it comes to rest at your neck. Eijirō knows when he squeezes, because as his wrist flexes, your eyes bulge, then melt. Eijirō simply tries to memorize it all—the wild look in Katsuki’s eyes, the entreating one in yours—just in case this is a one-time thing. Or, if you change your mind.
(This isn’t a one time thing, nor are you going to change your mind.)
While Eijirō doesn’t hear your whimper, he does feel it. Which is torture to someone who’s heard your moans through the walls for the past year.
“Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” Katsuki hums to himself, shaking his hand on your neck until your head bobs. Then, carmine eyes turn to Eijirō, piercing through the aimless float of smoke. “Ain’t she?”
Eijirō remembers the first time Katsuki asked him this question a couple of months ago, at the beach. He had an answer then, but didn’t want to say it. And, he’s got an answer now.
“Yeah,” he breathes, watching your body curl in between them. His thumb comes to pull at your lip, smearing lip gloss across your cheek in the pattern of his fingerprint. “Bet she’d look even prettier with something in her mouth, though.”
“Fuck.” Katsuki groans like the sound is punched out of his gut, and his hand on your waist tightens. Eijirō feels it and follows suit. “I wanna fuck. Like, now.”
Eijirō laughs, throat tight and voice hoarse from arousal. “That can be arranged.”
And, you—you’re just happily swaying between the two of them, eyes lidded and humming along to the music. Like you were built for this, built to handle both of them at once, and, that thought is—
Eijirō takes another deep breath, squeezing your side once more before stepping away.
“Hotel?” He asks. You and Katsuki nod and respond at the same time.
“Hotel.”
geordo.s
fascinating. is this how peasants live?
cyberch!ck69
PEASANTS?
kurapika.chu
You're slightly the asshole—not because of what you did, but because you didn't tell him beforehand.
eren.exe
mmmm idk if you’re the asshole tbh
When you three get back to the hotel, though…
“I don’t wanna fuck tonight!”
Katsuki’s got his shirt halfway off his head, cloth still stuck around his elbows, as he looks at you like you’re clinically insane.
“Fuckin’ what.”
“You heard me!” You giggle, collapsing into the bed with your club clothes still on. Everybody is reasonably drunk, at this point—and Eijirō starts to wonder if you’re having cold feet. Katsuki is quick to put that worry to rest, though.
“No,” he huffs, taking the rest of his shirt off, before he starts pulling your legs like he was earlier and wagging a finger in your face. “No—no, we’re not doing that shit again.”
You lift your head, voice gargling from the awkward position of your neck. “What ‘shit’?”
“You’re fuckin’—you’re fuckin’—” Katsuki stutters in the way he always does when immensely frustrated, and growls at the ceiling steadily, before starting again. “You’re fuckin’ ‘oh, let's wait, it feels so good if we wait.’ I’m not—no.”
Katsuki mocks your voice, as nasal and high-pitched as he can muster, and it earns him a hearty pillow to the face. He snatches it away, reddened face growing deeper in frustration. And Eijirō, who’s still a little confused as to where he’s going to sleep, lingers in the doorway once again.
“Like…edging?”
“Yes!” Katsuki points at his friend, now borderline pacing. “Except—except it’s fuckin’ worse. She’s a tease—it’s teasin’, that’s the fuckin’ word!”
“I’m glad we could come to that conclusion together, Katsuki,” you sit up with a bright smile. Then, kicking a leg out, “Now, help me take my shoes off!”
Katsuki groans, and looks at you with deflating shoulders. His pacing stalls.
“Are we really not gonna fuck tonight?”
“Nope!”
“Fuck!”
“Well, we are here for about a week,” Eijirō tries to placate with a shrug. “We have time.”
“Plus, when we get back,” you nod, kicking the heels of your feet against the bed. Eijirō didn’t know ‘when we get back’ was an option, but he’s most definitely not complaining. You lift your foot again. “Shoes.”
Katsuki grumbles something else that Eijirō can’t quite hear, and gets down on one knee. Your shoes are confusing to look at—they’re heels, with straps that wrap around your leg and end just below the knee. Yeah, if Eijirō wore those all night, he wouldn’t have the energy to take them off, either. As Katsuki starts to undo the bow at the top, you look at Eijirō, and lift your other foot.
“Shoes.”
“Oh, you want me to—”
You nod. “Shoes.”
Eijirō passes the threshold and mimics his roommate—gets down on one knee, and pulls your foot to his thigh. You let out a satisfied hum, nodding your head twice, like somehow, Eijirō’s added presence satiates something. What that something is, though, he isn’t quite sure.
“You happy?” Katsuki grunts, halfway done unlacing. He glares at you, but you just smile lazy and pat both of their heads.
“Mhm,” you nod. “Very. My good boys, taking care of me…”
You sound tired, and Eijirō snorts as Katsuki’s blush deepens. “Don’t fall asleep on us, now.”
“’M not,” you slur, resting a head on your shoulder. Katsuki slides off one shoe, and Eijirō takes the other. You wiggle your toes.
“Y’still gotta change outta this, though,” Katsuki grunts on his way up, snapping the strap of your dress. You whine, collapsing back into the bed with an exhale.
“No! I’m sleeping naked!”
“And, that’s fine,” Katsuki snorts in a soft voice, leaning over you. “Y’can’t sleep in this, though.”
You whine. “Why not.”
“’Cause,” he tugs at the bottom of the dress, “this shit was expensive. I know, ‘cause I paid for it.”
“Ugh,” you groan, loud and drawn out, before sitting up again. “Fine. Someone’s gotta unzip me, though.”
Katsuki runs the zipper down the back of your dress. Eijirō just…turns around, unsure where to put himself, opting to change as discreet as possible. You huff once free, hobbling towards your suitcase with your dress still on but unzipped, only to realize—
“Uh oh…”
Katsuki, who’s already gotten ready for sleep—no shirt and grey sweatpants—looks at you and huffs. “What.”
You turn to both of them with a guilty smile, still uncomfortably hunched over your suitcase.
“I forgot my pj’s.”
Katsuki sighs long until his Adam's apple pops. “Y’gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”
Your awkward grin just widens. “Oopsie?”
“Well, I don’t have a fuckin’ shirt for you to wear,” Katsuki drops arms at his sides, and proceeds to fold his clothes from today and put them away. “Like, literally. I brought fancy ass vacation shit—I didn’t bring a singular t-shirt.”
“You can wear one of mine!” Eijirō says, a little too quick for comfort, but what can he do about it? He already blurted it out. Your eyes light up, though.
“Really?”
“Yeah, one sec—”
He stands from his seated position on the floor (don’t judge him; he doesn’t know where to sit), knees popping, as he makes his way to his own suitcase. He files through the plethora of t-shirts he brought— that’s all he wears—and tosses one over his shoulder without even looking at it. You catch it with your face.
“Thank you!” You sing-song. Eijirō looks over his shoulder to give you a thumbs up, only to realize you’re fully stripped save for your panties, and very quickly looks away.
“Yeah, no problem,” he mutters weakly. When he closes his eyes, he still sees you naked, so he starts folding his clothes back into his suitcase like he’s Katsuki Bakugō, instead.
“Ooh, this is soft!”
Eijirō finally deems it okay to look—hoping you’re not just, like, feeling his shirt in your hands, but actually wearing it. Except, this sight isn’t much better. You’re only in his shirt, the Crimson Riot one. It’s beyond oversized, collar loose and hem ending mid-thigh. Eijirō tries not to think about it too much.
(He’s thinking about it. Oh, he’s totally thinking about it.)
Katsuki’s already on the bed, propped up on an arm. When he sees the shirt's design, he snorts.
“When are you gonna get over that comic book character?” He grunts, like Eijirō’s hair isn’t still red.
“When are you gonna start being nice to strangers?” Eijirō asks as he gets up, brushing stray carpet lint from his basketball shorts. Katsuki barks a laugh.
“Fuckin’ never.”
“Exactly,” Eijirō nods. You flop into bed right beside Katsuki, who wraps a steady arm around your waist. Eijirō takes a deep breath. Someone tell him where to go. Please.
It’s like you hear his internal battle. You pat the open space next to you, enough room for one more person, and Eijirō swallows. Wait, so like—
“Are you comin’ to bed or not, Shitty Hair?”
Yeah, okay. Yep.
Eijirō slides in right next to you, slow and awkward in case either of you wants to change your mind. You don’t. Katsuki reaches behind himself to turn the lamp off, and suddenly, everyone is plunged into darkness.
“Hi,” you giggle as Eijirō lays his head on the pillow. He snorts.
“Hi.”
“Hi, bye, goodnight—if we’re not fuckin’, go to sleep!”
You swat Katsuki’s bad attitude away, looking over your shoulder where his head nestles. “Okay, okay. Got it. G’night, Katsuki.”
“Good fuckin’ night,” he grumbles, but when you purse your lips, he meets them with his own. Then, you turn back to Eijirō, who’s lying uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, putting enough space between you and him to fit a tiny person.
“G’night Eijirō,” you smile, wrapping your arms around his waist to tug him closer. He lets you, sliding an arm under the pillows, right along Katsuki’s.
“Goodnight.”
Then, you purse your lips again, waiting for a kiss.
Eijirō hesitates.
And, apparently, you don’t like hesitation. Your puckered lips turn into a pout. “Kiss.”
Eijirō stifles the butterflies in his belly, and leans in.
Your lips are soft, warm from alcohol and the evening’s activities, and then, they’re gone.
Eijirō lays his head back on the pillow, rightfully worn out. A long flight, a beach race, a dinner, a club, new information—his head is still reeling, trying to catalogue it all, but he’s only focused on one thing. You.
With a yawn, Eijirō gets comfortable because he’s allowed.
“Night, Ei.”
Katsuki’s voice rings low through the quiet room—quiet enough that Eijirō sort of assumed both of you had fallen asleep already. The hand running on the underside of his arm squeezes it, three times.
“G’night, Kat.”
Eijirō squeezes him back. One-two-three.
t.kageyama
i have yet to decide whether im too old or too young for this app.
geordo.s
fascinating. is this how peasants live?
cyberch!ck69
PEASANTS?
cyberch!ck69
PEASANTS?????
Eijirō wakes up to you and Katsuki whispering like little conspirators.
“Ugh—who let me drink so much last night?”
Sunlight escapes through thick curtains, cut into thin lines and scattering the room in patterns. Eijirō’s slightly startled for a second, before remembering where he is and, more importantly, the events from last night.
‘I wanna watch you fuck her.’
Right. Right.
“I don’t wanna hear shit,” Katsuki yawns beside you, scratching his stomach. “We tried to cut you off. You said, and I quote, ‘Don’t tell me what to do, I’m a grown ass woman.’”
“Oh,” you say softly, dragging hands down your face. “Yeah, I kinda remember that.”
Your back is facing Eijirō as you pillow talk with your boyfriend, and in a way, it feels like he’s looking through the crack in the door again. Except, he’s allowed to look through the crack, maybe step through it a little, and does just that.
Eijirō nods his bird nest against the pillow and lifts up a sleepy fist. “Work hard, party harder.”
“Hell yeah,” you nod, looking over your shoulder to fist bump him properly. While unconscious, he scooted closer, leaving you squished between two hard bodies. You aren’t complaining, though. With a voice raspy from sleep and screaming over club music, you smile, “Good morning, Eijirō.”
Katsuki grunts in acknowledgement, coffee-less and therefore relatively silent. Eijirō beams. “Morning, everybody. How’d we sleep?”
“Ugh, great,” you say, melting deeper into the covers. “Like a baby.”
“No, you slept like a menace—kickin’ me and shit,” Katsuki grumbles, placing hands on your waist to tug you closer regardless. And, it’s a little weird—seeing Katsuki so overwhelmingly unguarded. So soft.
“Oh, that’s what that was?” Eijirō wakes up feeling bold this morning, and tests the waters, wrapping an arm around your waist, too. It runs along Katsuki’s until it dips below, resting just above your belly button.
“Maybe,” you say, a little guilty. “But, it’s not my fault! I picked up the habit because Katsuki starfishes, so I subconsciously kick his legs back together. See?”
Eijirō has never seen someone kick so hard laying down in his life.
It’s actually pretty impressive—how you manage to know exactly where Katsuki’s foot lies, and aim with utmost precision. He sees Katsuki’s leg reel under the covers as he hisses in pain.
“Ah—the fuck? You’re not the only one with a hangover, y’know.”
You let out an evil little cackle, but kiss Katsuki on the forehead to placate him. He hums in satisfaction. Placation: successful.
“How’d you sleep, Eiji?”
“Like a rock,” he huffs, and snuggles closer. For warmth, he tells himself. Because he’s allowed.
“Good, good,” you wave over your shoulder, and yawn. “’Kay, well I’m gonna go back to bed—”
“Hell no. We’re fuckin’ now,” Katsuki grunts, eyes still closed and face still swollen. He’s half awake. You pout while Eijirō snickers, and the blond peeks an eye out. “Fuckin’ what.”
“Nothing,” Eijirō hums, shaking his head. He presses his chin into your shoulder to see Katsuki better. “You just seem impatient.”
“I am,” Katsuki makes a pained groan. “I’ve waited a whole goddamn year. Now, Baby—strip.”
A year?
You whine again, giving Eijirō absolutely no time to do the math, to understand the repercussions of what Katsuki confessed. Shit, maybe he should go back to bed too. Just to, like, sit on that information for an hour or two.
“I don’t wanna,” you pout, dragging out the last word in the most obnoxious tone you can muster. “My head hurts. Later.”
“When is later,” Katsuki over-enunciates, clearly hanging on by a thread. You shift under the covers, ass pressing against Eijirō’s crotch, and—oh. Is that morning wood?
“Later is…later,” you huff, tucking the fluffy hotel duvet under your chin. Then, with another wiggle of your ass, “You’re not the only one having a hard time, you know.”
Eijirō juts his bottom lip in a pout, and tightens his hand on your stomach to get you to stop, please. Because, Katsuki was right about one thing—not being able to fuck you is torture. And now that Eijirō knows he can, it only makes it worse.
“Hey,” the redhead whines, because, low blow. It’s a low blow from you, and a low blow from his body for telling on him. It’s a low blow from the gods, who put him in this situation to begin with. “Not cool, Dude.”
“Are you really gonna call me dude when your dick is pressed against my back,” you snort, and Eijirō hears Katsuki’s breath hitch. Feels the arm on your waist squeeze a little tighter.
“Yeah,” Eijirō licks his lips, watching your hips fall into a light and slow but steady pace. Katsuki’s hand slides to your back and drags a light line down your spine. “You’re being mean.”
Because, what’s the point of grinding if you don’t wanna fuck?
“I can be meaner,” you say, with a smile flashing over your shoulder. Eijirō whimpers as you push more weight into him, and keep pushing. He looks at Katsuki for help, but he’s busy watching your body curl, too.
“Nah,” Katsuki huffs, getting comfortable on the pillow, and pats your side. “Now y’get to handle what I’ve been dealing with for the past two years.”
All Eijirō hears is: at least it’s not me.
And, honestly? Fuck him for that.
“This is horrible,” Eijirō laments after a sharp inhale, rubbing his face into your neck like it’ll make him feel better. It doesn’t. If anything, he’s flooded with the scent of you, more than he already was, and it makes his dick jump in his shorts. Nudging you in the side, “Okay, c’mon—no more.”
“But, I thought you guys were horny,” you tease, the lilt in your tone undeniable. “I’m just taking the edge off a bit.”
You're pressed flush to Eijirō now—even the slightest grind, and he’d feel it. Except, nothing about this is slight. It’s heavy and hot and makes his breathing pick up in the way only one thing can.
“This isn’t—this is, like, sharpening the edge,” Eijirō reasons aloud, huffing into your shoulder. “This is like dangling me over the cliff, and being like, ‘oh, don’t fall.’”
You cackle at that, like you know. Another roll of your hips, then, “You can stop me if you want.”
Eijirō whines, loud and long and pathetic, because you don’t understand—he cannot. You feel too good, too real, too solid, and as someone who’s been dreaming of this all year, no, Eijirō cannot simply stop you.
You giggle when he doesn’t, when his hands scramble for your sides instead, sitting above Katsuki’s just like last night. And, at the thought of last night, Eijirō pulls you a little closer. He doesn’t know how long he can take this before returning to his natural state—weak, pitiful, and overall, severely down bad.
After a little longer, room filled with human humidity and heavy pants, you stop grinding. Sit up.
“Okay, I should probably get breakfast to help my headache,” you yawn with a hand over your mouth. “Before I fall back asleep.”
Katsuki gets up on an arm, hair still flattened on one side from sleep. “Y’gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”
You smile, innocent and polite, like you aren’t the bane of their existences. “Anyone want anything?”
“Fuckin’—you, the fuck,” Katsuki huffs, tugging at your midsection to bring you back under the covers, but you don’t budge. Instead, you peel his hands off your hips.
Then, you crawl out of bed, on all fours and face first, and Eijirō is forced to watch your ass move in his Crimson Riot shirt, panties slightly askew. He’s so close he can taste it, and just watches at the overhead fan. He won’t know if he can’t see. (And, if he knows, he’ll lose his mind.)
You throw on a pair of sweatpants, and you’re out the door with a click. Eijirō and Katsuki are left with the hum of the AC and a very silent room.
“Cold shower?” Katsuki grumbles, staring at the ceiling with something wistful. Eijirō nods.
“Yep.”
akira.aaaaaah
this poor guy, ik he’s stressed
zenitsuckthesenuts
oooh lemme be a fourth
kid.death
What the fuck is wrong with people?
Eijirō doesn’t know why you left him and Katsuki alone like that. Also, cold showers suck.
So, they didn’t take one.
“F-Fuck, Dude, holy shit—”
Thanks to the wetness from constant running water, Katsuki’s hand slides easy. The tile is cold against his back, but Eijirō sweats anyway, arm pumping as his own hand glides smooth along a cock that isn’t his.
“Why the fuck are your hands so soft?” Katsuki pants into his neck. He has Eijirō pinned to the side of the shower, just out the way of the spray. This is a moment of severe weakness, and Eijirō hopes what happens in the shower, stays in the shower.
(Katsuki can always touch his dick, though. Not that part.)
“Lotion, Man,” Eijirō says past a breathless laugh, droplets sliding off the sharp ends of his hair and rolling down Katsuki’s shoulder. Eijirō’s face flinches in pleasure, and while he tries to keep his sounds to a minimum—this is still a little weird, this is still just his Bro—little squeaky whines slip from his lips. He was more desperate to get in Katsuki’s hands than he thought. “How are your hands so rough?”
“’Cause I’m a man that works with his hands,” Katsuki postures, and Eijirō snorts.
“Kat, you have a desk job.”
“Shut the fuck up, and cum already,” He grunts, lips moving against Eijirō’s neck in a way that makes him shiver, even if it’s accidental. Katsuki’s grip gets tighter, and so does his.
“You can’t rush orgasms, Dude,” Eijirō says, tries to say, but ‘dude’ turns into a really embarrassing whine he hopes was drowned out by running water. He knows it wasn’t. “That’s, like, Sex 101.”
“I’m not fuckin’ rushin’ it, she’s rushin’ it,” Katsuki says behind a deep growl, and Eijirō’s cock jumps. “We’ve got five minutes, tops.”
Eijirō knocks his head back into the tile, a little too hard, and winces at the feeling. Katsuki’s head falls off his shoulder. Shower smoke fogs the glass doors and curls toward the one canned light in the ceiling.
“I know, I know,” he whines. He’s not even standing on his feet anymore—fully leaned against the shower wall, with Katsuki keeping him upright at his front. And, Katsuki’s dick is so pretty. It’s curved and flushed and just as glossy and pale as his skin. Eijirō watches pre-cum bead at his tip before sliding down the shaft, running down Eijirō’s knuckles and disappearing in the slide. Katsuki’s cock jumps, too. With a weak grin and a lilt in his voice, Eijirō asks, “I turn you on, Dude?”
And Katsuki, whose eyes are trained on Eijirō’s own dick, finally looks away to huff in his face. “You already know the answer to that question, Dumbass”
Eijirō bites his lip. He wants to hold onto Katsuki, more than he already is. He wants a hand on his hip, gliding over those shower-slick muscles Eijirō remembers him working so hard to get, wants to see how easy it is to redden his skin, wants to see if his nipples are sensitive. He wants…he wants—
“Shit, I’m close,” Eijirō pants, eyebrows folding. He looks at Katsuki. “Are you close?”
“Stop askin’ stupid questions,” Katsuki grunts, but leans forward a bit. Incrementally—but enough for Eijirō to notice—like he’s melting. Then, an afterthought, “Not cummin’ before you, though.”
Eijirō wheezes a laugh, tight and bright and a little bit bitter. “Dude, now is not the time for a competition.”
Putting a hand next to Eijirō’s head, on the slippery tile, Katsuki’s eyes flit down to his lips. Return to his eyes. “Now’s definitely the time for a competition.”
“No, Bro,” he shakes his head, then licks his lips—because Katsuki keeps looking at them like he wants something. And, y’know, maybe Eijirō’s eyes slip a little, too. “’Cause then I’m gonna try to hold out. We don’t have time for that.”
“Then cum,” Katsuki says, like it’s easy, and suddenly much closer than Eijirō remembers. Katsuki’s smile turns cocky, and that’s the exact moment he knows he’s screwed. Or, maybe it’s when Katsuki drags a thumb along his jawline. “Be a good boy for me, and cum.”
“Oh, that’s not fucking fair,” Eijirō whimpers, finally caving and grabbing Katsuki by his waist. “That’s not fair at all, Kat, I—”
“Awh,” Katsuki coos and clicks his tongue. The thumb on Eijirō’s jaw lifts his head, and he can feel Katsuki’s condescending breath on his lips as he says, “’S okay, Ei. Just let go.”
“I—”
Knock, knock, knock!
They jump apart. Eijirō slips on water and nearly falls on his ass. Katsuki catches him, though.
“What are you two doing in there?!”
Your voice is muffled by the door, but still sounds just as lovely. The hands Katsuki has around his waist tighten.
“Fuckin’ showerin’!” Katsuki hollers, voice echoing off glass and tile. He lets go of Eijirō, and turns the shower handle from hot to freezing. Under his breath, he grumbles, “Nosy.”
“I heard that!”
“Good!”
horihori
nta, GET THAT DICK BITCH
yurikatsuki’sno1hater
Yuri Katsuki is a professional figure skater from Hatsetsu Japan, certified by the JSF. At age 18, he moved to Detriot to train under Coach Celestino Cialdini, only to come back and LOSE TO THE MUCH SUPERIOR AND EXTREMELY HANDSOME YURI PLISETSKY SUCK MY DICK
cyberch!ck69
what does this have to do with anything i just said?
yurikatsuki’sno1hater
It doesn’t
Unfortunately, before they both realized you were going to be a tease, Katsuki signed everyone up for snorkeling after breakfast. And, he takes his reservations very seriously. Especially ones with thirty-dollar cancellation fees. Thirty dollars each.
“Move your asses, we’re gonna be late.”
(And, Eijirō is really trying—to move his ass. But, it’s extremely difficult to stuff a rock-hard dick into awfully short swim shorts, and then hide it. He’s trying.)
They end up arriving about five minutes late, which isn’t late for the hotel, used to dealing with people on vacation with lax schedules, but it is late for Katsuki. Being on time is late for Katsuki.
The instructor gives them routine warnings and directions—stay away from the coral reefs, keep within the buoys, don’t wear anything shiny, remember to avoid breathing through your nose. Katsuki thinks the last one is self-explanatory, but people are dumbasses.
Katsuki didn’t realize how much of a dumbass he’d look, though, in goggles too big and the snorkel a comical thing next to his face. Somehow, Shitty Hair makes it work, and that pisses him off even more.
Snorkeling was fine—it was fun. Though he’ll never say it aloud, Katsuki liked looking at the different types of fish while floating on the water's surface. Eventually, Eijirō returns to the beach, too tired from last night’s activities and probably a little horny, opting to lounge on a chair to catch a tan. The tide slowly pulls you and Katsuki into a small grotto, still within the buoy's boundaries, and that’s where you two take a breather.
“This is fun,” you smile, picking the goggles off your head and stuffing them into your hair. It leaves your snorkel in a wonky position. “There are even fish in here, look!”
You point to the shallow waters lapping at your feet from where you’re standing on the rock. Katsuki watches your ass protrude as you bend over.
He might’ve made everyone go snorkeling, but there’s still only one thing on his mind.
Katsuki hums, but he’s not even looking at the fish. He’s looking at you—how minimal sunlight bounces off your wet skin and makes it shine, how your fat bends and curls with every shift, how you turn to him with bright eyes, like you forgot the whole point of this trip in the first place.
When Katsuki pushes you against the rough cave wall, he doesn’t know why you act surprised.
“Wha—Katsuki!”
His mouth is on yours before you can get another word in, clammy hands gripping your sides as Katsuki gives you a taste of your own medicine. Your kisses start out soft, broken by giggles, but Katsuki very quickly brings you down to his level—fucking desperate.
“Kats,” you whimper, and Katsuki moves to your neck, dragging his tongue along your pulse point and making you shiver. You press at his shoulders, but it’s not enough to push him away. “Kats—we shouldn’t—someone could walk in, or—”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Katsuki growls. One of the hands on your hips slowly snakes lower, grabbing the side of your swimsuit bottoms and tugging upward until you can feel it strain against your clit. You huff, looking up at him with that swell in your eyes he loves so much, so he tugs again.
“Kats—”
“I’m tired of your shit.”
His other hand slides upwards, wrenching your bathing suit top to the side and freeing a breast to tweak a nipple. He can feel your breath puff on his bare skin as you sigh, lolling your head to the right just enough to give him more room to work with. And, work with, he does.
After too much tugging and teasing, Katsuki dips a hand beneath a damp waistband. He needs to feel you—and groans when he finally does, because holy shit, how are you so wet.
“You drive me crazy, y’know that,” he grunts, fingers slowly rolling over your skin in a way you deem pleasurable. Your eyes flutter in response. Katsuki presses harder. “Prancin’ around in practically nothin’, and you still won’t lemme touch you.”
You let out a moan too loud for a public space, cracking against craggy cave walls and echoing through the grotto. Your hands find his shoulders for purchase, wrapping around his neck in a way that almost chokes, but Katsuki barely feels it. No, all he feels is you, and the swell of his dick.
“And here you are, all fuckin’ needy,” he huffs a laugh, grin scraping against your skin, bending it in his wake. Your hips buck, so his hands still. “Ah-ah. You’re not cummin’ yet.”
You whimper, licking your lips and panting, huffing, with your askew top shuddering with every exhale. Goosebumps rise on Katsuki’s skin, flatten into nothing, then rise again.
“Kats, please—”
“Please ain’t gon’ get you anywhere, Princess,” Katsuki growls, free hand finding your chin to lift it, while the other continues its steady ministrations between your legs. “You played with me—now it’s my turn to return the favor, right? Like a good boyfriend?”
Katsuki’s words are mocking enough to make you shiver in the way he loves, and your nails dig into his shoulders tight enough to leave crescents in your wake. The sting runs straight to Katsuki’s dick, and stays there.
“F-Fuck you,” you manage to hiss, lacking vitriol and replacing it with ecstasy and an undercurrent of annoyance. Your hips hitch again, so Katsuki stills again.
“See, that attitude right there is the reason you’re cummin’ last, tonight,” Katsuki’s grip tightens on your cheeks enough to make them squish, enough for him to feel the groove of your teeth through the skin. His hand is wet with you, now—fingers fucking soaked, and all he did was rub your clit for about five minutes. You whine.
“Tonight?”
“Yeah, tonight,” Katsuki over-enunciates, hoping to bury it in your thick skull that you’re not getting an orgasm until the moon is high in the sky and everyone has returned to their rooms to knock out—you can sing with the crickets, for all he cares. Your face curdles into a pout between his fingers, the pout that lets him know you now understand that you’ve bit off more than you can chew. Katsuki clicks his tongue. “You’ve been actin’ a brat this whole damn trip. Y’don’t just get shit ‘cause you asked for it, y’get shit ‘cause you work for it.”
With that, Katsuki releases your face. You collapse against the cave wall, bathing suit still twisted and goggles hanging on your head by a strand of hair.
“I’m not being a brat,” you scoff, gathering yourself and your bathing suit, with a slightly unsteady voice and shaky hands. “I—I was…poetically and sexually inclined, okay, that’s not even—”
“Baby,” Katsuki grunts, and levels you with a look.
“…Yes?”
“Shut the hell up before I fuck you right here.”
s.geto
Okay, how do I ask them?
cyberch!ck69
YOU’VE COME CRAWLING BACK I SEE
s.geto
Nvm.
After snorkeling is lunch. After lunch is a lei-making class. Katsuki tore half the carnations with hands that aren’t built to handle delicate things, and you spent the whole time being a tease. Eijirō just tries to focus on his lei, because if he focuses on anything else, his mind drifts to you, and suddenly, the flower in his palm is missing a few petals. After that, staying true to Katsuki’s itinerary, is a dinner and a luau.
“Eiji—come take a picture of me!”
They’re getting ready for dinner, and per usual, Katsuki is the last one ready. You’ve had enough time to find and pick a hibiscus flower to tuck behind your ear, matching the same shade as your strapless wrap dress. It’s not as tight as last night’s—thank God—but just as revealing, especially when you bend over like that, holy fuck—
“Sorry, had to fix my shoe.” You stand, brushing off the bottom of your dress in two firm strokes. “Ready?”
Eijirō has a vice grip on your phone as you walk towards the balcony. Don’t get hard, don’t get hard, don’t get hard—
Now, the sun is setting, fingers of orange and pink receding past the horizon. The sun is setting, but it’s still hot enough to give you that faint sheen, sweat or sparkle, as you lift a leg and pose. Your eyes glint in a way that’s nothing short of teasing—and while Eijirō assumes it’s for the camera, it damn sure feels like it’s for him.
You go through a few poses, all against the balcony railing. Eijirō’s knees hurt from trying to get the perfect angle, and when he hands back the phone, you smile. His mantra remains loud and true:
Don’t get hard, don’t get hard, don’t get hard—
“Wow, you take pictures so much better than Kats,” you amaze while scrolling through the images. Something akin to pride swells in his chest. Something also swells in his crotch.
Which is, like, totally not okay—drooling over the fact that he’s better than Katsuki at something. To you. When you’ve been the one dating Katsuki for the past two years, when it’s very clear you love him. But, Eijirō is stupid, and his brain is fried from severe blood loss over the past twenty-four hours.
“Thank you,” he smiles, and watches you swipe through pictures over your shoulder, pointing at one. “That one’s my favorite.”
It’s somewhat candid, of you in the middle of turning around to watch the sinking sun. The look on your face is nothing short of blissful—relaxed, at peace—and despite the looseness of the dress, your ass pokes out in something teasing, tantalizing, something—
Eijirō Kirishima needs to chill the fuck out. He knows this.
But, it’s hard. Hard when you drag your nails down his stomach in passing and say good job, hard when Katsuki grumbles at both of you to move it because they’re going to be late (like it’s not his fault), hard when he’s sat at a long table on the beach with strangers and dancers flanking both sides.
Eijirō is hard.
Fuck.
“Get your fuckin’ hand off my knee,” Katsuki grunts at you. You’re sitting between them, which is both the best and worst place to be—best, because Eijirō gets to be close to you. Worst, because Eijirō gets to be close to you.
And, he’s not the only one hanging by a thread—Katsuki has been pissy all day. He’s been mean and angry and a live wire just waiting for something flammable. (More than he already is.) And you, you’re starting to regret the grave you dug yourself, Eijirō thinks, because you wanted to fuck after snorkeling, wanting to fuck after lei making, but Katsuki keeps saying tonight.
“No,” you whine, and paw at Katsuki’s thigh in a way that you know will annoy him. “I wanna touch you.”
Your hand is also on Eijirō’s knee, but he’s not strong enough to move it. Just weak, and sitting in said weakness, feeling your drifting touch burn a hole in his skin. It’s a lot, honestly.
Katsuki grumbles, but doesn’t say much more, instead bouncing his other leg with an impatience that makes it seem like he doesn’t even want to be at the dinner in the first place.
Loud drums batter, accompanied by the patter of feet on sand and the swish of skirts. All of it falls into one noise, something steady and white, as your thumbs start rubbing circles on the inside of Eijirō’s knee. As it starts rubbing circles higher than Eijirō’s knee.
“What are you doing,” he asks. The food can’t come fast enough. The sun can’t fall fast enough.
“Nothing,” you say, in that tone that definitely means you're doing something. A lilt. Eijirō exhales sharp through his nose.
“Y/N…” he says warily and debates taking his leg away, knocking your hand off, anything. A stronger man might, but not Eijirō. Not today.
“What?” You pout in offense. Eijirō eyes the people next to him, then across, in hopes you get the message. You don’t.
Or, you do, but really don’t care.
“Baby, seriously.”
Eijirō looks at Katsuki’s lap to notice he’s not going through this alone. If anything, Katsuki has it worse, as you squeeze and pull at his thighs under his shorts, with no care for who might see or what they might say. There’s a sick sense of camaraderie that comes with the sight. At least he isn’t suffering alone.
“Oh, have I been banned from touching you guys, too?” You huff, a little bitter, a little like the thought is an impossibility. Where the hell is the food?
“At this point, yes,” Katsuki growls. He picks your hand off his lap and pins it to the table. The second he lets go, your hand falls back to where it belongs. His inner thigh.
Eijirō is tearing up the inside of his cheek. Soon, you’ve moved further up on his thigh too, drawing absentminded shapes that induce shivers. He whines.
“What if we…like…skip dinner.”
“We’re not skippin’ this shit, ‘m hungry,” Katsuki grumbles while crossing arms over his chest. Eijirō groans, but his stomach rumbles in agreement.
“Fuck.”
“So, I can keep touching y—”
“No.”
Both Katsuki and Eijirō take your hands and place them on the table. You giggle, but relent. The food doesn’t arrive too long after.
s.geto
Nvm.
cyberch!ck69
just TALK TO THEM
s.geto
Absolutely not.
s.geto
I need a five step plan, preferably one that doesn’t include me sitting them down and baring my soul.
cyberch!ck69
i give the fuck up
When they get back to the room, Katsuki slams you against the wall. Hard.
“Y’thought that shit was funny, huh,” he says in a low voice typically reserved for the bedroom—Eijirō knows, he’s heard it—and you bite back a smile and fail, wrists pinned to the wall above your head.
“A little, yeah,” you breathe, and Katsuki starts working his way down your neck. “You were the one who said ‘tonight.’”
“And you were the one who said no yesterday,” Katsuki huffs. He picks you up by your hips, tosses you onto the bed and, without a second thought, points and says, “Eijirō.”
Eijirō scrambles on top of you like there’s no tomorrow.
He presses you into the bed and kisses you heavy. Eijirō doesn’t even care about being polite at this point—he knows he’s allowed, you’re allowed, and takes what he needs because he can.
Your hands run up his sides to tangle in red hair, tugging, giggling when he whimpers, then tugging again. Everything fits so easy, like you were meant to be under him in the first place, made specifically to be slotted between his body and the bed.
So, maybe Eijirō’s treating you with all the impatience of an overzealous puppy, sue him.
Katsuki sits in the hotel’s standard cuck chair, slowly palming himself over fabric to relieve some pressure. Eijirō catches him out the corner of his eye, suppressing a grin when Katsuki lifts an eyebrow as if to say, what?
With a strong grip on your chin, Eijirō forcefully redirects your gaze to your boyfriend, the one impatiently writhing in the chair with a hand over his pants. Eijirō’s lips make their way down your neck, skating over a small hickey easily disguised as a bug bite that he knows wasn’t there last night—which makes him wonder what happened in those seven minutes you two disappeared during snorkeling.
(To say you came out of that grotto disheveled was an understatement.)
“God,” Eijirō breathes, mostly to himself, as his hand slides down and beneath your waist, arching your back just a little, just enough to be provocative. You get impatient when he doesn’t move fast enough, with lips still hovering by your collarbones and dress still on, and you yank his hair in admonishment.
“Hurry up,” you huff, and though it’s quiet, it rings in the vaguely silent room like a cry for help. Eijirō’s lips spread in a grin along your clavicle.
“What if I wanna take my time with you, though?” He pouts, and moves lower, but not by much. Just enough to give you false hope. His fingers play with the hem of your dress, lightly squeezing and tugging but never removing. Again, just enough to give you false hope.
You whimper, hips rolling into his stomach as you try to find some sort of friction. Eijirō tuts and pushes your knees down, one by one. He’s not gonna lie—a few more thrusts, and he might snap. With a deep inhale and exhale, determined to take his time because he doesn’t know when he’ll get this chance again, he starts moving down your body a little faster. A little.
He still has to get you back for teasing him all day.
When his hand finally dips under your dress, you sigh in satisfaction. Your arms wrap around his neck, nails scratching short hairs at his nape and sending light shivers down his spine. Eijirō’s eyes flutter shut as he mouths over a clothed breast, relishing the way your breath hitches underneath his lips.
“Respectfully, Shitty Hair, hurry the fuck up,” Katsuki grunts from the corner. Eijirō looks at him—there’s a flush running past the collar of his shirt, lips glossy with spit and chest heaving with impatience. Eijirō feels the balance of control shift, and grabs hold.
“Respectfully, Kat, I think I’m gonna take my time,” he smiles, and while the verb phrase I think gives room for argument, Eijirō hardens his voice until he’s sure Katsuki knows that isn’t the case. I think is a placation.
Katsuki snarls, but sinks deeper in his chair.
Eijirō unwraps your dress—unwraps his present, like it’s his birthday, his anniversary—and kisses down the valley of your chest. Both hands lift to cradle your breasts, shaking them on either side of his face and chuckling when you whimper. He thumbs over one nipple, obsessing over the way your body jolts, and takes another deep inhale like he can smell your arousal from here.
Eijirō takes your nipple into his mouth, next.
You choke out a moan, body strung tight from denying yourself the thing you want most, and your hips struggle to kick under the weight of Eijirō’s body, but they do try. He groans, hugging your waist to keep you from jolting, and sucks.
“Ah—fuck—”
You gasp when his teeth skirt your areola, light enough to soothe but tight enough to graze. Katsuki groans in his peripheral.
“Yeah? Feel good, Baby?” Katsuki pants past a clinch in his throat. You nod and whimper, eyes screwing shut, and he coos. “Yeah. Looks like it.”
You whine and tug at Eijirō’s head again. Not necessarily to instill pain, but to, “Move. Move, Eiji.”
Eijirō’s lips leave your breast with a pop, as he gazes at you with lidded eyes and a lazy smile. He’s exactly where he wants to be.
“Move where?”
You let out a strangled groan, something made of pure annoyance, as you try to push his head down. Eijirō doesn’t budge.
“You know where,” you huff, wiggling to work your knees out from under his body, to frame him and thrust up. ”My pussy, Eijirō—please, I swear to God—”
And, since you asked so nicely—
Eijirō keeps playing dumb, but runs a hand to cup between your legs. You're wet to the touch, through the panties, and he takes his third deep inhale of the night in an attempt to ground himself. It doesn’t work.
Eijirō is unwell.
He feels your pussy twitch under his palm, and he feels dizzy. The room spins, sways, does all the things a room is definitely not supposed to do—like the world kept spinning, but Eijirō stopped moving within it—and he drops his head to your shoulder in hopes it’ll stop. Holy shit, this is actually happening.
“Y’good there, Red?” Katsuki snorts, and honestly, Eijirō shakes his head.
He keeps playing with your pussy, though. A fucking war couldn’t stop that.
Eijirō sits up so his voice isn’t muted by your skin, so he doesn’t have to repeat himself twice. “I feel like I’m about to pass out.”
“Oh no,” your face turns from ecstasy into worry in a second, and your hands let go of his hair to cup the softer angles of his face. Eijirō melts into the hold. “Are you okay? Do you want to stop?”
He shakes his head, pinches your clit. Your body shudders. “No, no. I’m good.”
Eijirō takes another deep breath. His head still spins, but in a good way—a way he can lean into. So, he does, and rips your panties off in the process.
“My—hey!” You pout as Eijirō throws the useless cloth over his shoulders, forgetting about them the instant they leave his palm. He can’t look at your pussy yet, needing a breather and taking it, exhaling with his eyes closed.
“Someone’s impatient,” Katsuki grunts under his breath. Eijirō huffs a weak laugh. Opens his eyes. God, your pussy is pretty.
“You literally just told me to hurry up.”
“And?” Katsuki huffs. Eijirō hears the clink of a belt, the shifting of cloth. He looks up to see Katsuki working his jeans down to his thighs.
“And nothing, Dude,” Eijirō smiles. Then, he touches you.
“Fuck,” he whines, melting on his knees as you whimper beneath him. It’s something simple—just running a finger through your folds, testing the waters—and you feel better than he ever imagined. On his fingers. He starts to get dizzy, again.
“She feels good, doesn’t she,” Katsuki groans, slightly more breathless than when he last spoke. Eijirō swallows, then nods.
“Yeah, I—” his breath shutters as his train of thought runs into a wall and smashes into a heap of metal. His thumb runs over your clit, lightly, seeing what makes you squirm and what doesn’t, but he’s half-busy reeling in the unbelievability of it all. You, the most unattainable woman he’s ever met, so far out of his league, his best friend’s girlfriend, is here, laid flat and naked in front of him because you want to. What the fuck. What the fuck. He bites back a moan as he watches your eyes flutter, hips slowly picking up their pace as you rock between his hand and the headboard. “How’re you feeling, Pretty?”
The pet name just kind of…slips right out. And, while he probably shouldn’t be calling his best friend’s girlfriend Pretty, he also probably shouldn’t be touching her like this. And Katsuki shouldn’t be sitting in the corner, touching his dick, like this is all perfectly normal.
Eijirō dips a finger inside you.
You flex and flutter around him, clenched, enough to make him wonder how he’s supposed to fit in the first place. It feels like you’ve cut off his circulation, but…to his head. Somehow, he’s getting no blood to his brain—maybe, because it’s all going to his dick—and Eijirō whimpers as he starts pumping a finger, only for you to grip tighter on his way out.
“Oh my God,” he drops his head, eyes fluttering closed as he realizes, “I’m not gonna survive this.”
“Chill out, Shitty Hair; you’ve only got one finger in her,” Katsuki snorts, enjoying the visual of Eijirō losing his mind when he hasn’t even done anything yet. “Just wait ‘til you make her scream.”
Yeah. Eijirō might need to speed things up a bit.
He inserts a second finger right next to the first, and groans. It’s tight. No wonder he could hear Katsuki’s moans through the walls.
Speaking of moans: you’ve been letting out quiet whimpers the whole time, body writhing and breath hitching all cute. But, Eijirō crooks his fingers, and then—fireworks.
Your eyes rocket open, round and wide, and your stomach flexes. You release a moan that’s punched straight from your gut, loud and wanton and exactly what Eijirō has heard through plaster. Your body squeezes and shudders as he focuses on opening you up instead of pleasure, because if he focuses on pleasure, he’ll—
“Rub her clit,” Katsuki huffs. Eijirō looks over to find him pumping himself with a slow and steady pace, dick exposed and looking just like Eijirō remembers from the shower. The urge to lick it remains strong. When he moves to pull his fingers away, Katsuki tuts. “At the same time, Dumbass. What, can’t multitask?”
Honestly, in this situation, Eijirō isn’t really sure.
He keeps his mouth shut, though—whatever embarrassing ramble that sat on his tongue is swallowed—and does as he’s told. The hand resting on your waist drops to your clit, and you squeal.
“There she goes,” Katsuki mutters, with all the predatory satisfaction of an animal at the top of its food chain. You splutter and kick a leg on reflex, and Eijirō sort of has to fight to keep his hands from slipping.
“Eiji,” you scramble for his shirt, holding on tight and keeping him close, “I need you to fuck me—like, yesterday.”
“Then you should’a had him fuck you yesterday,” Katsuki huffs, and Eijirō isn’t sure if he’d be a really good or really bad porn director in another life. Maybe both. “Put in a third finger.”
Eijirō does, and your eyes roll.
“Fuck,” you whimper, and your grip tightens. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—”
“Stop touchin’ her.”
Eijirō removes his fingers.
You groan, slamming a heel into the mattress in frustration, and glare at your boyfriend across the room. “Kats—I hate you.”
You’re too out of breath for your words to have any fire in them, so Katsuki just smiles, slow and languid as he rests a chin on his hand. “What’s wrong, Princess? About to cum?”
“You know I was,” you huff, glaring at the ceiling. And Eijirō is too busy looking at the flexing mess between your legs, because, holy shit, you were about to cum, like, all over his fingers—
Eijirō needs to see that. He needs to see that, like, now.
“That’s too damn bad,” Katsuki snorts, then his eyes cut to his roommate. “Keep touchin’ her.”
Eijirō does so, and with a renewed vigor.
He stuffs three fingers back in so quick you yelp in surprise, body curling into his as he works you open. The little sounds you make are heavenly, breathy and whiny and everything he’s dreamt of and more. Eijirō notices when you get close to the edge, this time—the way your eyes flutter, and you squeeze around him like you don’t want to let go.
“Stop.”
You whine again, and this time, Eijirō whines along with you. He wants to feel it, so, so bad.
After a few moments of panting, you lick your lips, “Kats, I—”
“Doesn’t feel too good, does it,” Katsuki grunts, but he’s still smiling just as wide as before. At least someone is having fun. Eijirō, meanwhile, is a hot mess, because all he wants is to feel what he’s heard (and seen) for ages. And, his dick hurts.
You groan, fists squeezing into cute little fists on your forehead. “Why do you have to be an ass?”
“Me?” Katsuki scoffs. “I’m just givin’ you a taste of your own medicine, Sweetheart. Eijirō, you can move.”
It takes you longer to reach the edge than the second time. Maybe, you’re holding back—or, maybe you know it won’t be allowed—but Eijirō’s arm is working overtime until it cramps. He’s sweating now, the shorter hairs sticking to his face in funny designs, but Eijirō Kirishima is nothing if a quitter. He feels it again—the tightness—and looks to Katsuki, who says nothing. Maybe, this time, he’ll let it slide. This time, Eijirō gets to see it, feel it, taste it—
“Stop.”
Eijirō groans louder than you do, and drops his head to your shoulder.
“Kat, let her cum,” Eijirō practically begs, eyebrows bowing and lips quivering against your neck. You feel it, and your breath hitches.
“What?” Katsuki acts like he can’t hear him, but Eijirō knows he does.
“Let her cum,” he huffs after lifting his head off your sticky shoulder, looking at Katsuki with the most pleading face—the most pathetic face—he can muster. “Please.”
Katsuki scoffs, eyes narrowing at Eijirō like there’s something to study. There’s not; the answer is obvious—he’s sitting in between the legs of a pretty girl, unable to give her what she wants, eyes wild and chest heaving like he’s had any friction at all.
“Why?”
“I wanna feel it,” Eijirō says, quick enough to be embarrassed about it later.
Katsuki clicks his tongue.
“Fine.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” Eijrō sighs, hands officially moving with an end goal in sight. It would be cruel of Katsuki to deny both of you again, but Eijirō knows he’s not going to—the hand on his dick is moving faster, now. “Thank you, thank you, thank you—”
Eijirō wonders how many times he can make you cum. He wonders what you’ll look like after the first, second, third—how much your body might quiver, what you could sound like without a wall in place. All it does is fuel the fire in his belly, running straight into his muscles until his hand moves at a numbing pace. As your voice pitches, so does the pace of your breathing.
“Oh shit, I’m gonna—I’m gonna—”
“Cum for us, Baby. Cum for Ei, make a mess all over his fuckin’ fingers.”
Eijirō doesn’t even blink.
He just watches as you unravel, starting at your edges and ending in your middle, as your body arches and hips flick. Your pussy squeezes around his fingers tighter than he thought was possible, and your face—God, your face—contorts in ecstasy because of what he did, his fingers. Eijirō can confirm that it's better up close. So much better.
He kisses you before you can come down, out of pure impulse and want. You moan into his mouth, hands lifting to quiver by his cheeks, an attempt to hold them, and it’s just so cute.
Eijirō’s fucked. Though he knew it before, he definitely knows now. He’s not going to be able to exist without this, anymore.
Note: Never make Katsuki mad, like, sexually.
Because, when Katsuki can’t cum, nobody’s fucking cumming.
“Kat, Dude, please, c’mon,” Eijirō wheezes into your neck, but he doesn’t really care whether Katsuki can hear him. Katsuki will do what Katsuki wants—it’s like whining to the weather.
Your pussy is squeezing the life out of his cock. You’re on your fourth orgasm, and Eijirō is on none, even though he didn’t do shit. This is a type of torture he’s woefully unfamiliar with, like he’s getting punished for being attracted to you in the first place. He didn’t do shit.
Katsuki has moved from the chair to the bed, cock still in hand. Eijirō can’t even be cheesy about it, can’t even look to the right and ask, need a hand, because he’s gripping the sheets for dear life, like they might take pity on him. But, sheets don’t bargain, and if they did, they’d write a contract for him to get the hell off.
Katsuki coos, both at Eijirō’s strung-up state and your fucked out one. You’ve got no fight left in you, instead uselessly whimpering and clawing at his back like he can save you. Spoiler alert: he cannot.
Katsuki thumbs at the high points of Eijirō’s cheeks, “Awh, y’want it that bad? You’re cryin’, Red.”
Eijirō sniffles. Yes, he knows he’s crying—despite the heat in his face, he can feel it.
“Yes,” Eijirō hisses between grit teeth, “I’m literally dying, please—”
Katsuki chuckles something dark, grabbing Eijirō by his cheeks and forcing him to look up—and suddenly, he's drowning in carmine eyes. Is Katsuki closer? It feels like he got closer.
“Hold out a little longer,” the blond says, in a voice softer than the bed you lay on, and Eijirō really isn’t sure what to make of it. He’s close enough that Eijirō can almost feel the tongue licking his lips, feel his breath as he says, “Y’gotta make her cum two more times, at least.”
At least? Eijirō’s going to die. Eijirō’s going to die from an arrhythmic heart and overexertion, and it’s going to be Katsuki’s fault.
(But, hey—he’s dying in Hawaii, with you below him, so how much can he really complain?)
Eijirō wheezes out a light and pathetic ‘ah’ in place of what was supposed to be a curse, but he really doesn't care anymore. Not when you blink up at him with watery eyes and palm at his chest, all weak like he did that.
“Eiji…” you whimper, exhausted and sweating into the bed. “Jus’ one more. Please.”
Eijirō’s hips stutter, but they don’t stop.
“Fuck,” he gasps, hands turning into fists in the sheets. He’s not allowed to touch you, not allowed to make this go faster—but God, does he want to. “Fucking fuck—this is so unfair.”
“She’s insatiable, ain’t she,” Katsuki says, letting go of Eijirō’s face to cradle yours, to thumb over your cheeks all soft while he plows into you with every fiber of your being. “’S one of my favorite things about her.”
You whine but don’t do much else, bottom lip sliding from behind your teeth to make room for the sound. As your pussy convulses around his cock, you gasp, soft fingers sharpening into nails to dig into the fat of his back and leave raised red lines in their wake. Eijirō’s going to look wrecked on the beach tomorrow, and that thought is just—
Katsuki grunts with a nod. The hand on his cock starts moving with purpose, now. “One more.”
Eijirō wants to touch it.
He wants to touch Katsuki again so, so bad, but he can’t, not with his hands full with you—not when he can’t cum yet. The ball of arousal is already wound tight in his stomach; one wrong tug, and it will unravel.
“I can’t—” Eijirō wheezes, voice breaking as he falls forward, catching himself with a hand beside your head. The other hand is busy holding your hips up, because you can no longer do it for yourself. “I can’t—”
The room is filled with the wet slap of skin on skin, pants heavy and hot enough to fog a warm glass, predatory groans and whiny whimpers. Eijirō keeps making sounds he’d rather not, but he’s too far gone to even register them. Katsuki’s saying something—his mouth is moving—but all he hears is the rush behind his ears.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Eijiro whimpers, in slight disappointment, but it was inevitable. He feels that tingle in his fingers that lets him know to pull out, and—
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”
Katsuki’s voice snarls into focus, grabbing Eijirō by his hair and tugging so hard his back bends.
“I can’t, I’m not gonna—”
“You can, and you will,” Katsuki says with a finality that leaves Eijirō no other choice. And he’ll be damned if he loses this opportunity—he wants to fuck you again, and again, and again, until you’re properly satiated and leaking out of every hole you have. Eijirō whines through gritted teeth.
“I’m sorry,” he sniffles, and another tear rolls down his cheek. Katsuki licks it up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t d—”
But then, you’re squeezing around him with shaky legs, and Eijirō’s shoulders sink in relief. One more second, and he would’ve—
“Oh, fuck!”
Eijirō cums so hard his vision blacks out—whether it's from closed eyes or pure blindness, he doesn’t know—and his hands scramble for something, anything to hold onto. One hand ends on your hip and the other on Katsuki’s thigh, digging bruises in his thumbprint as veins pop in his neck and he floods your system.
Eijirō pumps his hips a few more times, slow but sure. He’s sure he’s making noise—groans, whimpers, whines—but he can’t hear much except for the throb of his heart and Katsuki’s own orgasm, feeling something lukewarm splatter against the fingers still resting on his thigh. Eijirō breathes himself back into his body, through his nose and out his mouth, and finally, pulls out.
His dick jumps, and squirts twice like it’s got more in it. Eijirō can confidently confirm that it does not.
He collapses right on top of your body.
“Holy shit.”
“Holy shit is right,” you swallow, voice raspy and crackling on the edges. Katsuki collapses next to him.
“That was fuckin‘ good.”
You three blink at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath. Eventually, you squirm under the redhead, so he rolls onto your other side.
“I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow,” you decide aloud, shaking your head. Your eyes are still closed—and you’re still coming down, body twitching every few seconds in places Eijirō didn’t even know you could. “You two are carrying me everywhere.”
“That can be arranged,” Eijirō huffs, still out of breath. Weakly, he reaches across you and taps his roommate. “…When I can walk. So, Kat, you got that.”
Katsuki groans, somehow also exhausted, like he did any of the work. “Fuck you.”
“No,” Eijirō shakes his head, neck still weak and loose from being tense for so long. “You made us fuck for hours. ‘S your punishment.”
Katsuki grumbles under his breath but doesn’t outright lament. Eijirō gives you a slippery smile, and lifts a fist. You meet it with your own.
A few more seconds of catching breaths, of opening pores for cool air and listening to the steady rock of the ceiling fan, and then:
“Hey, Eiji. Wanna be our boyfriend?”
Katsuki shoots up. Suddenly, he has energy.
“We’re not fuckin’ askin’ him like that!”
You don’t really have the energy to argue, so you raise a placating hand and push it into his face.
“How’re we s’posed to ask ‘im, then?”
You slur your words, and Eijirō doesn’t blame you. Tomorrow, he’ll panic about the new information—probably cry a little—but it’s the middle of the night, and he’s already half asleep from exhaustion.
“Fuckin’ properly, the fuck do you mean?”
Katsuki seems really stressed about this, Eijirō thinks distantly. He should probably answer before he knocks out, slowly sinking into a post-orgasm haze he’s not necessarily trying to escape anytime soon.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Shut the fuck up, Shitty Hair—you’re not accepting it until we do it right. When we get back.”
Eijirō snorts weakly. “Okay.”
That night, everyone falls asleep with bone-deep satisfaction. The next morning, Eijirō does cry a little—but he promised Katsuki he won’t accept until you two do ask him properly, whatever that means. That doesn’t mean he’s not dying about it, a little.
taglist; @tokkushin, @kamislop, @zompompurin, @updownandbatty, @nanakamii @lynnsemptymind, @eijiromelissa12, @glokitty, @p1nkv33, @arctivv, @jazfartz2, @astralravenix, @jamanthabean, @oo-juniper-oo, @thedailylexi, @imandumbass, @bbrckstr, @1cckedheart, @cecemochi … wanna join my main taglist? send me and ask, dm, or comment!
AITA taglist; @talia-scar123, @kalinaseli, @demon-writer2, @moonhalffull444, @amans-puer, @orcaorks, @kirishimaeijiromyman
if you're on my permanent taglist and don't want to be, please reach out to let me know! i was a little confused sifting through the comments, trying to figure out who just wanted to be tagged for AITA and who wanted to be on my main taglist...i see why ppl make those google docs now...might have to get on that...
❤︎ SYNOPSIS: eijirō feels like he’s going insane. he wants to fuck his best friends girlfriend, but, like, also his best friend? is he the asshole?
❤︎ CONTENT: f!reader, alternate universe - modern!au, slight perv!kiri, domestic fluff, eiji feeding kat grapes on the beach (no i wont elaborate), semi-unsanctioned voyeurism, blowjobs, penetrative sex, riding…18+, minors and ageless blogs DNI.
❤︎ XOXO, PUMA: i need perv!kiri like i need air. eijirō cry count: 7
❤︎ NOW PLAYING: this is why, paramore.
read on ao3 | 5k words | part two | masterlist.
r/AmItheAsshole
u/redredriot
AITA FOR HAVING WANTING TO FUCK MY BEST FRIENDS’ GIRLFRIEND?
okokok. hear me out.
i [26M] have a best friend and roommate [also 26M]. i’ve known the guy since high school and we’re pretty close (obviously, best friends) but hes like, my best-best friend, yk? the bestest. i love the guy (platonically) and idk what id do without him, so i really dont want to fuck that up.
now. my best friend has a girlfriend. shes super sweet and nice and makes him so happy. like soooo happy. like i didnt realize my bro could be so happy. but thats besides the problem. the problem is that she moved in. and shes a good roommate, im not complaining about any of that, but also like…shes hot…?
which is fine. its sooo fine and cool and i would never do anything that got in the way of my bros relationship. i love him!! (platonically) but the problem is that she lives here. she eats in our kitchen and takes naps on the couch and walks around with no bra and tiny shorts and i’m LOSING MY MIND
i feel bad. i definitely FEEL like an asshole bc its like im j some misogynistic asshole that cant stop viewing women as sex symbols, but i swear its not my fault. i literally found one of her panties in my laundry load im going to cry.
but yeah. AITA??? i feel like the asshole depending on the day. is there a help line for this???
suckmyclituchiha
dude, no. NTA as long as you keep it in your pants.
notthatkentakakura
Mmm a little? I feel like you shouldn’t have a crush on your best friends girlfriend…
gogogokudolls
NTA. I fear we’ve all been there, my guy
6ixeyes
How gay are you for your bro????
Eijirō’s moving out. That’s the only logical course of events.
“Katsuki—! Oh my God—”
Eijirō groans, sinking a head into his hands. He threads fingers through his bright red hair and tugs. He’s going insane—he’s going to be in a straight jacket in two years if he doesn’t leave right now, this isn’t even fair, this is—
“Oh fuck, right there, right there, right there—”
What is the fucking point of walls. What is the fucking point, when it sounds like you’re right here.
Maybe, you guys don’t realize he’s home. Which is fair—by the time he got back, you two were already hidden away in Katsuki’s room. He should send a text, or knock on the door to be like hey, shut up please, or at least, put headphones in. But, no—instead, he chooses to torture himself, listening to you whine on his best friend’s cock.
“Yeah, Baby? You like that?”
The headboard slams hard enough to rattle the wall, and Eijirō debates on crying. He wants to see. He wants to see so bad that it hurts.
He suffers that night, just like he does all the others. Reddit doesn’t help, and neither does the throbbing between his thighs.
Eijirō likes to make breakfast. It’s the only meal he can make, really, other than chicken and rice. And broccoli—he can make broccoli. But, since you moved in, he likes making breakfast for a different reason.
“G’mornin’, Eiji.”
You come in yawning, bleary eyed and bra-less, just the way he likes. He doesn’t let his eyes drift the expanse of your thighs for too long—just enough to remember until tomorrow morning. Until he sees you in those shorts, again.
“Hey! How’d you sleep?”
Because, he slept horribly. He fell asleep halfway through the sex marathon, and doesn’t know if he had a wet dream, or heard you past the fuzz of slumber. Either way, he fell asleep at two and woke up at six, wholly unrested.
“Mm…good…” You stumble over to the fancy coffee machine he bought for Katsuki’s birthday last year. You maneuver around the kitchen with half a mind, and Eijirō tries to avoid burning breakfast. God forbid Katsuki wakes up to the smoke alarm in a panic, worried the world is on fire. You open the fridge to get water, nearly hitting yourself upside the head with the door, and Eijirō snorts, catching your forehead from his spot by the island.
You sniff, blearily blinking up with a nod as a thank you. “What’cha making?”
“Pancakes,” he grins, gesturing to the freshly poured griddle. “Try not to concuss yourself before then?”
“No promises,” you mumble past a sleepy smile, and its cute enough to make his heart hurt. He returns it, hoping it comes across less endearing than he feels. You shuffle closer to watch pancake batter bubble under the heat. “Ugh, pancakes are gonna hit. Thank you.”
You let out a moan, one that sounds a little too similar to what he heard through the walls last night. He focuses on flipping the pancakes with an unsteady hand, refusing to feel the edges of your molecules when you get too close.
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” he preaches with a laugh, and you nod vehemently in agreement. The coffee machine starts to whirr.
“Yeah, ‘n if not for you, I’d be having straight coffee for breakfast.”
“That’s…horrible,” he realizes aloud, and you snort in response, collapsing your face into his arm. His arm, which is, now, nearly pinned between your breasts—and Eijirō wants to cry for the twentieth time this week. “You should definitely not do that.”
“But, I don’t even like breakfast,” you whine, jutting out a bottom lip. Eijirō takes a very deep breath, before flipping the last pancake. He fucks it up, and the battered side folds in half.
Then, he remembers what you just said, and frowns. “You eat it, though—I’ve seen you.”
“I eat your breakfast,” you argue sleepily, and the coffee machine beeps for attention. You leave to grab the full cup, leaving his right side much colder than you found it. “You cook good breakfast.”
Eijirō isn’t fully sure what you mean by that, but beams nonetheless. “Thank y—”
Katsuki stretches in the kitchen doorway. Languid like a cat, with arms above his head, and groaning loud enough to startle. He’s shirtless, and Eijirō does not see the purpling hickey on his neck. Does not.
Katsuki waltzes over to you and drapes himself across your shoulders, eyes swollen and voice rugged from sleep. He steals a kiss from your cheek before asking, “Coffee.”
You hum, lifting the mug closer to his collapsed self. “Want some?”
Katsuki scrunches a nose and shakes his head, only for his face to end up in your neck. “Not from you.”
That earns him a gasp and a flick in the forehead, both of which Katsuki takes in stride. He snickers into your skin, biting behind your ear until you yelp, with a hand tight around your hip to ensure you don’t squirm to far.
And, it’s sickening.
It’s sickening, because these are the moments when Eijirō doesn’t quite know who he wishes to be—you, or his best friend. Katsuki mutes a smile in your skin, and Eijirō wants to feel it, but he also wants his hand on your hip, and he wants, he wants—
“Oi, Shitty Hair—the pancakes are on fire.”
Eijirō looks down at charred circles he once called pancakes. He wants to cry.
With a snort, Katsuki moves past you to grab a plate. Then, he’s nudging Eijirō in the shoulder, and the redhead starts plating the useless ones with a pout.
“I can’t believe I messed up the first batch,” he whines, because now they’ll have half the amount they normally would for leftovers. And, he was sort of hoping to not cook breakfast tomorrow. (Though, he’s not as sad about it as he’d like to be—which makes him even more annoyed with himself, in turn.)
Katsuki just rolls his eyes, setting the burnt plate aside, probably to let it cool before throwing it away. “What the fuck was so fascinating outside?”
Eijirō’s eyes flicker to the window he was allegedly looking out of—he doesn’t really remember, to be honest—and irritation floods his being tenfold as he huffs, “Dude, literally nothing. Literally zoned out.”
Which is a half-lie—he did zone out—and luckily, Katsuki’s back is turned to grab the bowl of batter, so he doesn’t have to look him in the eyes. Eijirō can lie, as long as he isn’t looking Katsuki in the eyes.
But, Katsuki turns around with a knowing smirk, like he does know it’s a lie. That makes Eijirō doubt his lying capabilities.
“Uh-huh,” he hums, and starts pouring pancakes in perfect circles while barely looking. Which, Eijirō thinks is wholly unfair—he has to really lock in, and even then, they come out vaguely dinosaur shaped. Don’t ask him why. He doesn’t know.
“Ooh! I want a heart pancake!”
Katsuki eyes finally leave Eijirō—thank God, he can breathe now—to narrow at you. “…Baby. I just poured the last one.”
But, Katsuki knows you’re not going to let up, as does Eijirō. You have that look in your eyes when you want something, and want it now.
Before you can even open your mouth, Katsuki’s warning, “Wait for the next batch.”
You whine and melt, propping your chin onto the island counter with the biggest pout known to man. The most effective pout, because Eijirō would fold for it time and time again, if he had the chance.
“But, I want it now,” you whimper, and while Katsuki sighs out of his nose, Eijirō has an idea.
He walks over to a small cupboard, the one with the straws and syrup cups, and dips a hand between both for a container of toothpicks. Thanks to Katsuki, they always have some on deck—because, every time they go out to eat, Katsuki is convinced he has something in his teeth, and simultaneously convinced that everyone is lying to him, including his phone camera. So, Eijirō sacrifices one of Katsuki’s holy toothpicks to bend a bubbling pancake into a heart. It only kind of works.
“Fuckin—no, Shitty Hair, y’gotta start from the middle an’ go down—”
“No! Start with the edges first! If he takes too long, my heart is gonna have a round bottom!”
“…Y’know who else has a round bottom—”
“Finish that statement and you’re fired, Katsuki. This is serious business.”
Eijirō Kirishima cannot function under this conditions.
“Guys,” he chokes, looking down at what is now a squiggly mess of pancake. It looks nothing like a heart, but definitely an accurate depiction of how Eijirō’s heart feels—squishy and out of shape and useless. Like an amoeba. Or a blobfish.
Yeah. His heart feels like a blobfish.
“I give up.”
He releases the cake-covered toothpick, and it sticks to the counter in a quietly depressing splat. Katsuki huffs, shoving him out of the way to snatch the toothpick and try himself. And, try he does.
But, the issue is that the pancakes are cooking quick—the others have already been flipped and now, they’re almost ready. Meanwhile, the flailing heart shaped pancake is burnt around the edges and gooey in the middle, but they’re still committed.
Eventually, the three of you look at the burnt ball of dough with a sigh.
“We tried. On that front, we get an A, right?”
“If you look at it from the side and squint your eyes…it, like…kind of looks like an actual heart, so I say yeah.”
“…It looks like shit.”
You all prepare to eat the successful pancakes in a dejected silence. You end up cutting a heart out of your pancake instead. Eijirō eats the corners.
6ixeyes
How gay are you for your bro????
redredriot
um. probably gayer than i should b.
6ixeyes
Wait, srsly
Beach is bad. Beach is horrible—Eijirō will never beach again.
‘Guys, I wanna go to the beach,’ you said. ‘It’s so hot today, it’ll be fun,’ you said. ‘Eijirō’s going to be so miserable, and have to fight a hard-on the entire time,’ you didn’t say. He should’ve seen it coming.
Because, if he can barely handle you in pajamas, how the hell is he supposed to be chill while you practically prance around the sand in a bra and panties. He’s going to cry.
And, Katsuki—Katsuki isn’t helping one bit.
“God, fuckin’ look at her,” he groans, adjusting the sunglasses on his nose. You’re in the water alone, because Katsuki refuses to (’I’m not gettin’ fuckin’ wet just to have fuck-ass sand stick to me—no.’) and honestly, Eijirō would join you if he wasn’t suffering. “Ain’t she a pretty li’l thing.”
And like, what is Eijirō supposed to say to that? What is the socially correct thing to say when your bro is frothing over his girl. Do you agree, and possibly look like you want to fuck her, or do you not agree, and by proxy, call his girlfriend ugly?
Eijirō decides not responding is the safest option. He focuses on the self-help book in his lap, but he’s can’t read right now. The words rearrange into something accusatory, and it’s undeniable:
YOU ARE THE ASSHOLE.
Fuck.
“Don’t know how I bagged that,” Katsuki mutters to himself, before reclining underneath the umbrella. Because he burns too easy, and the sun makes him sleepy, and—why does Eijirō know this? He doesn’t need to know this.
“Awh, c’mon dude,” he shoves Katsuki in the shoulder from his seated spot in the sun. His words come out stilted and awkward, because how do you let your bro know he’s a catch without letting him know you’d probably be down to suck his dick. “You’re, like…hot. You guys are the same level of hotness.”
Katsuki snorts, and rolls his head until it’s facing Eijirō. He cracks an eye open. “D’you think I’m hot?”
Eijirō chokes on air. What kind of question is that.
“I mean,” he blows a raspberry and shrugs, and suddenly, can’t look at his roommate. He watches the horizon until you shift into frame, and then, he switches to the sky. “Yeah, of course, Dude. You’re, like, an objectively hot guy.”
“Objectively,” Katsuki repeats, and Eijirō’s eyes dart to the side just in time to see that quiet smirk from earlier return, from breakfast when Eijirō lied before, and he’s starting to worry Katsuki might be onto him. Which is not good. Not good at all.
“Yep, mhm.” His eyes squint into the sun, in hopes it’ll burn his retinas and give him some form of brain-fried amnesia. That would be great. When it doesn’t work, Eijirō finds himself rummaging through the snack bag instead, hoping that stuffing his mouth shut might keep him from saying anything stupid.
“Oi,” Katsuki perks up. “I want fuckin’ grapes.”
Eijirō laughs, nearly collapsing his face into the snack bag when the arm he rests weight on starts to wobble. “Lucky for you, we brought ‘fuckin’ grapes.’”
“I know, that’s why I said it, Dumbass,” Katsuki faux-bristles. “Feed ‘em to me.”
Eijirō swallows.
“Uh, no Dude, feed them to yourself,” he snorts (and very proud of how he played it off, thank you) and grabs a protein bar out of the bag, along with a Ziploc bag of grapes with a melting ice pack in it. He drops them at Katsuki’s side, but Katsuki knocks them over like a petulant cat.
“My hands are sandy,” he says like it’s obvious, and lifts them up. Respectfully, they are not sandy—but ‘sandy’ to Katsuki means that his hands can feel the ‘sand dust,’ or whatever he said, and Katsuki is stubborn. Eijirō knows he won’t have his grapes untainted.
“Then get Y/N to do it,” he grunts, teeth preoccupied with tearing the label away from his protein bar. “She’ll be out soon, I think.”
“No,” Katsuki groans, loud and useless, and grabs the bag of grapes at his side to chuck them at Eijirō’s head. And, chuck them he does—it gets Eijirō in the side of his face, and the flaxen blond snorts at the sound. “Her hands‘re gonna be all sandy and salty. You do it.”
Eijirō scratches his scalp and sighs.
Eijirō Kirishima, at twenty-six years old, is being forced to feed his Bro grapes on the beach like Katsuki is Cleopatra, while you frolic in the water, half-naked and mouth-watering. What series of events led him here, exactly?
“Then just, like…eat it out the bag, or something.”
Katsuki’s eyes narrow beneath his aviators. “If you don’t, I’m telling Y/N that you think she’s hot.”
Eijirō stiffens.
“Fine. Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine—fine,” Eijirō huffs, and feels his face go hot as he scoots closer. Katsuki gives him a self-satisfied smirk, like he enjoys watching his best friend fumble like an oaf. Over him—over you.
This is so not fair.
Katsuki crosses arms behind his head while Eijirō pops the Ziploc open. Eijirō’s not exactly sure how to go about this, but once he picks a firm grape with no strange squishy spots (Katsuki will have a fit), Katsuki’s lips part, and Eijirō just…drops the grape right in there. Katsuki’s jaw pops as he chews with a nod, like the redhead did good in finding a grape he deems decent enough. It makes him feel all warm and gooey, like a chocolate cookie fresh out the oven, and because Eijirō can blame that feeling on the sun, he lets himself bask in it a bit.
It gets quiet, save for the crashing of waves, music from teenagers seated not too far from them, and the occasional pop of a grape. It’s kind of nice—he finds a rhythm, and space in between Katsuki’s chomps and grabbing grapes to nibble on his protein bar, which is gone quick. He must be hungrier than he thought…We should get actual food soon.
Eijirō zones out, thinking about possible food options and how, honestly, he could go for any of them. Then, he feels something round in his hands, and turns to Katsuki, who’s staring at him with a scrutiny that makes Eijirō think he’s got something on his face. He purses his lips, trying to figure out what Katsuki wants for based off expressions—and finds nothing. He finds nothing that he wants to see, and everything he doesn’t—from the sweat forming in Katsuki’s cupids bow, to freckle in his hairline that darkens with the sun, to the curve of his brows and color in his cheeks.
“…What?”
Katsuki blinks himself out of whatever that was, and the lax expression on his face turns into a scowl as he points.
“Grape.”
redredriot
why does that even matter tho
6ixeyes
Ngl, bc I’m going thru somn similar and tryna figure it out LMAO
redredriot
oh damn my condolences bro
For the third time today, Eijirō would like to know how the fuck he got into this predicament.
You come out the water like a…a fucking beach goddess, water clinging to your form like a sheer dress with sand as an jewelry. The sun seems to agree, as it douses you in something ethereal, something just for you.
Eijirō wants to tear his hair out. He’s already suffering because of one set of sweaty tits, he doesn’t need another—
“What are you guys doing?” You snort after getting enough to see Eijirō hover another grape over your boyfriend’s mouth. The redhead pouts.
“I’m being forced into servitude!”
“I see that,” you laugh, and instead of sitting next to Katsuki, you sit next to Eijirō. He tells himself it’s because you need to dry off, and he’s sat in the sun—not that Katsuki minds, seemingly content on consuming grapes from Eijirō’s hand for the foreseeable future. You squish your wet side into Eijirō’s to get a look in the snack bag, and he shivers for all the wrong reasons.
“Ah! You’re cold!”
Plays it off well, though.
“Sorry,” you giggle, but don’t move until you pull out a fruit roll-up, snatching a grape on the way back. “Damn Kat, you ate all the grapes—fat ass bitch.”
Eijirō didn’t even notice, and looks into his lap—where you just had your hand, mind you—to a severely empty bag, now mainly left with undesirables.
“Oh, right, it’s fat ass bitch now, but later it’s ‘oh my god, Kat, your muscles—oh my god, Kat, you’re so big—oh my god—”
Eijirō is going to die.
Katsuki mocks your voice with an unsteady and nasally falsetto, causing you to reach behind Eijirō, balancing a hand on his shoulder while you try to wack your boyfriend in the head. You miss due to range, and because Katsuki sways his head right with a cackle.
“That is not how I sound,” you hiss, resigning yourself to the other side of Eijirō, even though you could easily walk over to give Katsuki a piece of your mind. He shrugs, eyes flitting to Eijirō, and, uh oh, why is he—
“Oh, that’s totally how you sound,” but he’s looking at Eijirō, like he could confirm, and he doesn’t think the blond talking about how you sound outside the bedroom. Fuck. “Right?”
He’s not asking you—he’s asking Eijirō.
And Eijirō, poor Eijirō, quickly looks out to sea like it’ll put a partition between him and this conversation. Maybe, he should try to burn his retinas again. Maybe, he didn’t try hard enough.
He plays dumb.
“Don’t include me in your couple’s quarrel, Dude!” He says, but its more to the sky. “I’m not even here. I’m a ghost. I’m invisible.”
“Well. In that case,” Katsuki grunts. You squeal as your arm gets yanked in Eijirō’s peripheral, falling behind him and into the sand with a thump. “C’mere.”
“Kat—mmph!”
Who knew kissing could be so loud?
If Eijirō lets out a tear, it’s because his fucking dick hurts.
AITA FOR HAVING WANTING TO FUCK MY BEST FRIENDS’ GIRLFRIEND?
u/redredriot
edit: kay my bro is kinda hot but that just makes things SO MUCH WORSE WHAT DO I DO???????
bigdaddytamaki
petition to be a third!
sasakilovesmiyano
Plot-MF-Twist, I’m so invested.
kusuo_saiki
Get a therapist.
redredriot
THATS WHAT YALL ARE FOR
komicommunicatesverywell
Or get a girlfriend!
That night, Eijirō commits a sin.
It’s not his fault—he’s pent up, because you guys are pent up. He had to drive that fucking car, dammit, and had to ignore the fact that he enjoyed watching you and Katsuki makeout in the rearview mirror more than he should.
And, it’s not his fault again, because you and Katsuki decide to fuck in the living room—the living room that his door faces. It’s like you’re trying to kill him, at this point.
So. Maybe, he leaves his door cracked. It’s not like it matters—moonlight spills through the window above his bed, and barely illuminates te edges. While you engage in foreplay, Eijirō gets ready for bed (skips brushing his teeth, because he’s impatient, and so, so horny) and by the time he’s sliding under the covers, you’re sat comfortably between Katsuki’s legs with a full mouth.
“Fuck yeah, Baby—just like that.”
Tucked under his duvet, Eijirō shucks his boxers down to his hips and grabs himself. His eyes flutter at the feeling, underwear and cock soaked enough that anyone lacking context would assume he already came. Meaning, the slide is easy, and he peeks through the doorway and into the lovingly lit living room.
Eijirō shouldn’t be doing this. He also shouldn’t be obsessed with the way his best friend’s cock fits in your mouth. Not all the way, but enough to make you tear and choke and gag. All Eijirō can really see is the back of your head and Katsuki’s blissed out face, both of which he thinks is wildly unfair.
Katsuki shivers, and it’s a full body affair. Eijirō’s hand wraps tight around the base of his dick because, jeez. Give a guy a warning before you do something really hot next time?
Katsuki lets out something akin to a whimper, which was not a sound he thought his bro could make. But now, he wants to hear it again and again, and possibly occasionally be the reason, every once in a while.
You’re not any better—you’re humming around his cock like you’re the one getting a blowjob, and it’s messy, Eijirō can fucking hear it, and it’s driving him insane. Katsuki grabs ahold of your hair and tugs, causing you to mewl, fall further down his cock, then choke. Katsuki groans and Eijirō stifles his own, praying to every God out there that he remains sane after tonight.
It’s a losing battle.
“Yeah? Y’like imagining that this is his cock, huh?” Katsuki takes control, moving your head at his will, and Eijirō’s arm flexes to match the pace. You whine, and Katsuki chuckles. “Dirty fuckin’ girl.”
You huff, irritated, and pinching Katsuki in his inner thigh, which earns you a jolt and a groan. Wow, Eijirō’s learning so many new things today. Like how you get cock drunk easy, and that Katsuki’s a pain slut. And Eijirō, who will never have any use for this information, stores it anyways.
Katsuki tips his head back and moans at something, and for a moment, Eijirō worries he’s been seen. Only for a moment—the ice in his blood is gone as quick as it came as Katsuki’s eyes flit back to you, and melts straight into his dick. No, despite what his dick says, he does not want to be caught—because that would be very, very bad.
As time goes on, he seems to care less about getting caught, too preoccupied with getting his fix. Which, makes him sound like an addict, but it’s not his fault, you guys are fucking right outside his door.
Eijirō nearly cums when Katsuki pulls you off his dick. Debates on it, for a good while.
Your mouth is swollen, with teary eyes to match the gloss of spit and pre-cum on your lips. Eijirō knows, because Katsuki pulls you up and sits you right on his dick, with your back pressed flush to his chest. And, like, Eijirō’s imagined this moment—the moment where he finally sees you naked—but figured it’d be some panicked walk in, a time when he wouldn’t be able to take in all of you and regret it, and most definitely not this.
Your bathing suit is still on, but barely. It’s misshapen and askew and doesn’t cover what it’s supposed to, covers the exact opposite of what it’s supposed to, actually. Eijirō bites back a groan.
“F-Fuck, Kat—’s too big,” you huff, wiping at the corners of your lips like you might be drooling. Are you drooling? Or is it leftover from the fucking amazing head he just watched you give his best friend?
Katsuki coos, clutching you tight to his body like you might scramble. His other hand holds your thigh open, enough that Eijirō can see your entrance stretch around Katsuki’s cock, and he wants to scream.
“You can take it,” he insists, low and heavy, but still loud enough for Eijirō to hear. You whimper and collapse into his chest, and the hand that holds you upright drifts, tweaking and pinching where it deems fit. “Y’wanna put on a show, don’t you?”
That’s the first time Eijirō catches it. A show for who?
You nod, but push at the couch cushions like you regret letting Katsuki in to begin with. Is this how you look every night? If so, Eijirō’s going to need you two to start fucking on the couch more often, ASAP.
“K-Kat, I can’t—”
Katsuki’s free hand finds your clit then, and whatever you were going to say is left to the wind, molded into something choked and garbled and completely unintelligible.
“What’s got you all worked up?” He snorts, like he’s any better, like he isn’t flushed to his chest and fluttering his eyes every time you shift just right. Eijirō squeezes the base of his dick.
You clumsily shove your boyfriend in the side of the head, who’s thrusts never falter. “Fuck you, you know why—Oh my god, Kat, slow the fuck down—”
“No,” he huffs with petulance, before, if anything, speeding up. “You’re greedy—you can take it.”
“It’s—” your leg kicks, seemingly involuntary, and Katsuki laughs at it. “That’s different.”
God, you whine is the same during sex and in the kitchen. How the fuck is he supposed to hear that the same again.
“How,” Katsuki chuckles, and pinches your clit. You squirm and tuck your head in his neck. “How the fuck are you supposed to take both of us when you can barely take me, huh? It’d be worse with Eijirō’s fat ass on top of you—shit—”
Now.
Eijirō has three thoughts, all of which he thinks at the exact same time:
hey! he’s not fat! he’s well-muscled with the right amount of squish!
damn kat…you think his ass is fat, though?
wait. why are we saying his name, why are we saying his name, why are saying his name—
The third thought is the loudest and lasts much longer than the rest, lasts perpetually, actually, and Eijirō almost cums at hearing Katsuki say his name. His actual name—not Shitty Hair, not Fuck-Face or Dumbass, but Eijirō—and while having sex, no less! With his girlfriend! What the fuck is this?!
You moan even louder, like you like that idea, like that’s something you could be into, and Eijirō doesn’t know what to make of that. Katsuki doesn’t seem to care, and Eijirō doesn’t know what to make of that, either. All he knows is that he’s cumming regardless, despite his best efforts, biting tight into the fat of his hand with a strained groan that he really, really hopes no one heard.
He’s so confused.
He still watches, though—watches you cum on Katsuki’s cock twice before he’s stuffing you full with a groan of his own, eyes trained on the gap between Eijirō’s door. Like he knows Eijirō is still watching, even if you two have been fucking for over an hour.
Eijirō waits until you both peel away from the couch and pad into the bathroom before moving a muscle. He finally gets up to close the door, and scrapes at the dried cum on his stomach with an old t-shirt until his skin turns red, and frowns as he watches it flake. What the fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—
He needs to update Reddit. He needs to know what to do.
AITA FOR HAVING WANTING TO FUCK MY BEST FRIENDS’ GIRLFRIEND?
summary: your boyfriend is your cameraman for the day.
warnings: use of ‘babe’ & ‘baby’. slights swearing. established relationships. youtuber!reader. fluff. ( not proofread!! )
request: HAIIII, I’m not sure if you write for Laiys but if so, could you write a laiys x reader fic!!!
the filming started with your intro. the same intro you had since you started. a quick introduction to what the video would be about.
laiys stood infront of you with his camera in hand smiling as he filmed you record your intro.
normally it would’ve been your camerawomen behind the camera but she wasn’t available, and laiys loved helping you when you needed it. weather it was about your camera or editing, he would drop anything you help you.
“where should we go first?” you asked as you began to walk around.
“whenever you want, baby” he followed behind you “clothes maybe?”
“ouu you gonna buy me something new?? you teased.
“nah you’re gonna buy yourself something new” he emphasized the ‘you’re’ making you turn to look at him and roll your eyes.
you walked into the first store almost instantly finding something that caught your eye.
“what color is better?” you help up two tops in front of you that were the same design just different colors.
“i think the black one would suit you more”
quickly different clothing items filled your hands. you walked into the dressing room, taking the camera from laiys hands and taking it with you while he sat outside waiting.
you began trying on the different clothing items.
“okay here’s the first top” you walked out, the camera focused on laiys as he looked up from his phone.
he looked you up and down.
“holy shit” he eyed you “turn the camera off” he smirked.
“okay enough” you turned around and walked back into the dressing room to try on the next item.
after trying on everything and deciding what you actually wanted to buy you guys payed and walked to the next store.
sephora was next. you needed a couple refills. laiys sighed knowing that you weren’t just gonna get what you needed and then walk out. it was never that simple.
“let me see your hand” you put hand out waiting for him to put his hand in yours.
“for?”
“just give it to me”
he put his hand in yours and you started swatching the different blush shades on him. asking him for opinions after you swatched every single one.
“i feel like this was is too orange, don’t you think?”
“i’m not gonna lie, i have no idea what the fuck your asking me” he spoke “they all look the same to me, babe.”
“you’re no help” you walked away to the next aisle, looking at different products.
while you were looking at different concealers you realized laiys wasn’t next to you like he always was.
you looked up and saw him recording and taking to himself in the little mirror. he was moving his hair around and posing.
“this is my vlog by the way” you walked up to him.
“nah i think this way is better” he gave you the camera so you could film him.
“oh my god, wait let me see your eyes” you lifted the camera a little more to get a close up “literally matter daddy” you joked seeing him get red.
“alright give me the camera back” he grabbed it from your hands.
“he gets all embarrassed like if he doesn’t like it.”
“are you almost done?” he changed the subject.
“umm no? i haven’t even grabbed what i need”
“we’ve been in here for thirty minutes how have you not got what you need?”
“i was looking at other things” you walked away stopping in front of me mirror just to check how your makeup was holding up.
in the reflection you say laiys with his hand out, covering your ass. with furrowed eyebrows you looked up at him.
his had that relaxed face that he always had, unbothered like what he was going was so casual.
he made eye contact with you in the mirror.
“what?”
“what are you doing?”
“your whole ass is in the camera, i can’t have it just showing to everyone” he said casually, not with the joking tone he has a couple seconds ago.
“you’re so extra, oh my god.”
you continued to shop, swatching more things on his hand and asking him for more opinion, knowing he had no idea what you were asking him.
eventually you finished and walked out looking for another store to go into.
“how about we go there” he panned the camera to victoria secret.
“babe, i just bought something from there like two weeks ago”
“so? they’re having a sale” he tried to sound serious but you knew him.
all it took was for you to tilt your head with a teasing smile for him to start laughing.
“that is not why you wanna go in there”
“you’ve had me follow you around all day and i can’t even get something for myself?” he kept going, camera still on you.
“fine, but we’re going in and out.”.
“oh i’ll be doing that with you later” he walked towards the entrance.
your mouth opened wide, not even knowing what to say. you didn’t expect to say that on camera.
“what is wrong with you?” you questioned jokingly.
you didn’t know if you should laugh or just stand there.
“i’m chillin’. you just gonna stand there or are you gonna come in?”
“im definitely cutting all of that out.”
#AMOURIIESS SPEAKS: sorry for the wait but here you gooo <333 kinda hate this kinda don’t, i don’t know how to feel about it tbh. lmk what you guys think.
❤︎ . . . accidentally discovering one day that peter's wrists are (weirdly) sensitive after his enhancement, so you take it into consideration the next time you go down on him and his entire world shatters.
smut. dick sucking. organic web shooter sucking (ok guys don't make fun of the girl who put herself out there). cum licking.
you've got him on his back, sprawled across the bed, and you're kneeling between his thighs. his moans are growing louder. sharp and quick. the muscles in his thighs twitch with every inch your mouth takes him deeper, and his hands are tangled in your hair, pulling gently at the roots. he's close.
"i'm gonna—" he pants, throwing a forearm over his face.
you pull off with a pop, shaking your head. "don't. wanna try something."
peter sits up on his elbows, confusion settling over his face. "w-what? why?"
you don't answer him. take him into your hand instead and start rubbing him firmly from base to tip. he settles back against the bed and watches as you work him, waiting expectantly with his lip pulled between his teeth for whatever you're planning. then, you grab his arm and bring it to your face, twist it until the skin of his wrist makes contact with your lips.
peter's brows pull together, still unsure, and then he's throwing his head back in ecstasy, sputtering a string of 'baby's that echo off the walls. your mouth latches onto the flap of skin where his organic webs spurt from, and you watch him intently as he comes undone beneath you, a mischievous smile forming on your lips.
"that nice?" you ask, pulling away briefly, hand still tugging and squeezing.
then, a second later, breathless and strained, "god, this is so weird," he chokes out, gripping the sheet. "but 's g-good... sososo good. don't stop."
you giggle against him, and the vibration shoots up the length of his arm. your tongue dances across his skin, alternates between flicking and sucking the flap, and you can feel his forearm pulsing. throbbing. shifting under your tongue like it's preparing for release.
when you glance up at peter, he's already looking up at you, leaning back on his elbow. his jaw is slack, chest rising and falling in rapid succession, and his eyes flicker from white to black intermittently. you quicken your pace, sucking his wrist and stroking him in tandem, all while holding his gaze.
briefly, you pull off to encourage his release. "you're so close, baby. let go for me."
a few more licks and tugs later, peter comes violently. he releases all over your hand. wet and thick and warm. his wrist follows next, shoots out webbing in quick succession, and lands all over the room before covering you in one final spurt.
peter falls against the sheets with a huff, too far gone to be embarrassed by the state of the room. you pump him a few more times before you retract your hand, then settle on top of him, straddling his waist.
"how do you feel?" you ask, licking the spend off your hands.
he blinks an eye open, still panting. "used," is all he says.
you laugh, lean in close to his ear. "well, get ready to be 'used' again because i wanna try something else," you say, voice low and teasing, "and... i can already feel you getting harder. you liked that, admit it, pervert."
peter turns his head, rolls his eyes. "no comment."
synopsis: you've spent years being bullied by the pretty, white-haired princess the rest of your boarding school adores. who would have thought that whole time she was secretly crushing on you? or catfishing you?
pairing: yandere fem!gojo x loser!reader
wc: 7.1k
content: mdni, angst and smut mostly, DUBCON, fem!gojo referred to as toru, basically k-drama style bullying lmfao, catfishing, fem!toru roping suguru into her schemes to catfish reader, sending risque photos and videos, pining, obsession, stalking, isolation, fem!toru is down so bad it's FILTHY, betrayal, emotional hurt, reader lowk about to have a mental breakdown, fem!toru is delusional and in love, confessions, sorta blackmail, conflicting feelings, hotel room hookup, kissing, groping, fingering, degradation, fem!toru is GETTING her wife girlfriend
a/n: art by @/rezijellyfish !! this was a commission for my sweet angel @sadlittlecucumber !!
“Are you staring at my tits?”
You weren’t. Seriously. But when she was dramatically huffing and bouncing like that, your stare did flicker down for a fraction of a second and that was enough to secure a haughty scoff from your tormenter.
“God, do you ever stop checking me out?” Toru haughtily huffed at you, the edge of a freshly manicured nail scraping against your chin as she forced your head up. Careful not to let her fingers actually touch you, as if you had some disgusting disease she could touch if your skin brushed against yours. “My eyes are up here.”
Painfully blue. So intense they seemed to sear through you, shrink you down into something small enough for her to pick up and play with like a toy she enjoyed torturing.
Staring at you like you were something to devour.
From the very first day you started at this stupid all-girls school and had the misfortune of accidentally dropping one of your bags on her foot in the hallway while you moved into your dorm, she had decided you were the object of her animosity.
And despite how much time had passed, how many times you tried to clear the air and stay as fucking far as possible from her, she always seemed to find and remind you of just how much power she had here. Over you.
“I’m just trying to go back to my dorm,” you muttered, averting your stare as you stepped back, attempting to walk around her – and through the forming crowd of gossiping onlookers eager for some fresh rumor to sink their teeth into.
Toru would be happy to give it to them.
Tossing her soft, white hair over her shoulder, loose waves bouncing as she haughtily laughed and looked back at all the people surrounding the two of you. Any one of them ready and willing to support her when you were standing there practically as proof of what happened when you pissed her off.
“What? Sneak any shots up my skirt today to add to your perverted shrine?” She accused, your face flushing at the absurd insinuation.
Despite her frequent assertions otherwise, you were neither a lesbian nor hopelessly in love with her.
Her ego was just so huge, it was probably just inconceivable to her that someone could exist without wanting her.
But no matter how many times you swore you weren’t secretly obsessed with her and that there was no fucking shrine hidden in your closet or under your bed, she’d been saying the same shit long enough that no one believed you.
“Can you just leave me alone?” You frowned, forcing your way through the crowd to get past her as she called out some other teasing remark about you going to rub one out.
Loathing couldn’t quite suffice for just how much you couldn’t stand her.
Hate boiling and burning beneath your skin every time she hurled a new taunt your way, when she’d find you eating lunch in a single bathroom stall just to make your meals hell too, mocking you with glossy lips and a glittering smile while the rest of your class treated her like an angel even when her antics annoyed them.
And when the girl that could do no wrong wished the worst for you, well, it seemed the worst was all you got.
The rest of the student body had started treating you like shit too. Sneering and scolding you for staring, everyone convinced you had to be some sort of predator just because she said you liked girls.
People didn’t grin at you in the hallways.
Just glared.
Your room had been ransacked a few times, clothes tattered and wrecked with staff that didn’t care to scold them. Your lunches knocked out of your hand. Stupid notes stuck to your back during class.
There wasn’t a single person in this fucking place that wanted to be your friend.
But you guessed it didn’t matter.
You didn’t have that much longer left stuck here.
Graduation was coming up soon – and despite the hell boarding school had been, the scholarship you’d been granted to attend had set you up for a pretty nice looking future. One without Toru.
You locked the door to your room behind you, dropping your bag to the ground before collapsing onto your bed. Exhaling as your eyes shut, a migraine budding behind them from spending another day attempting to avoid her and failing miserably.
Rolling over to pluck your phone from your pocket, your mouth reflexively curled up into a smile at the name on the screen. The one bright light in the midst of this pit of misery filled with pretty girls who thought you were pining after them and tried to punish you for it.
All of them absolutely clueless that you were already taken.
By a man they would definitely be desperate to call theirs too.
You’d been seeing Satoshi for two years.
Sorta.
You hadn’t officially met him yet. Not when you started talking through a dating app. Back then, you’d been craving any company so much you had caved and downloaded a bunch. And you had lucked out to land an equally lonely person.
Your relationship had been fairly casual at first, late night conversations where you stayed up until your eyes were sore and you nearly fell asleep sitting up in half your classes. Things had picked up this past year, the photos that used to be half your face or whatever you were doing escalating to more…intimate images. His questions turned more personal too, picking apart your brain until he knew probably more about you than anyone you’d ever met before.
Sure, it wasn’t conventional. But he had sent plenty of his own questionable pictures and voice messages to quell any of your suspicions. He never asked for money either, instead showering you with attention and sending you expensive gifts (although everyone on your floor was convinced you were spending what little money you had sending them to yourself). He was wearing a uniform from an all-boys boarding school not all that far away in a lot of them – but between sports and classes and busy schedules, neither of you had been able to arrange a proper meet up.
Until this weekend.
Finally, you’d be able to do something other than giggle and grin at the photos of his pretty washboard abs and replay his thick, groggy good morning messages.
He made reservations at a fancy hotel nearby, promising that he’d be waiting for you there with the biggest bouquet he could buy and wearing his best outfit in blue, sending you sweet messages about how badly he was aching to be yours in person instead of just online.
Most people would think you made him up.
And honestly, at first, when you tried to dispel the rumors and whispers about you being a lesbian by protesting and bringing up that you literally had a boyfriend, but when he actually went to another school, no one would believe you.
Eventually, you gave up. Stopped seeing a point in swearing the truth when everyone else would always prefer the lie.
It gave them someone lower on the totem pole to push around.
Kept them safe from Toru’s reign of terror.
Why would they listen?
You told yourself that you were almost free. So fucking close to being out of her reach.
They could all worship at her feet and follow her around like the lost puppies they were. You weren’t going to be a loser lingering in her shadow forever. Not when you still had your support in Satoshi.
A new notification buzzed on your phone, breath catching in your throat in anticipation as you clicked on it too fast, before you could even read it.
You should’ve looked.
An unknown number and a nasty word stared back at you, your fingers automatically moving to block the number and delete it with a frown.
Immediately re-opening your messages with Satoshi as you sniffled a little, too exhausted to keep the swirling emotions inside you at bay as you sent a short message, biting your lip until you tasted the blood on your tongue.
Can you talk right now?
ε✿з
“Please, please, please, please-”
“God, do you ever shut up?” Suguru groaned, rubbing his temple while Toru thrusted the phone in his face.
“But I need your help,” she whined, pouting harder as he squinted at the messages.
“You said you’d tell your girlfriend last month,” he annoyingly reminded her, brows knitting together in irritation as he reluctantly took the phone anyway, readjusting on his bed after she unceremoniously burst into his room after getting a ride all the way to their rival boarding school. “Don’t particularly feel like doing this for two more years.”
God, what good was a best friend if they wouldn’t help in a time of need? Wasn’t he supposed to be a wingman?
“I’m telling her this weekend,” Toru frowned back, folding her arms across her chest as she glanced around his dorm room. It was honestly cleaner than hers, in shades of gray and green instead of the soft blue she was used to. Books actually neatly stacked on his desk instead of scattered haphazardly on every surface. “I wanna make it romantic. Like, book a hotel room and everything.”
Buy you flowers, maybe an expensive set of lingerie, have them scatter rose petals over the bed and leave champagne on the table. Book a couples massage and take you out to a fancy dinner? Sure, she’d probably have to apologize for being a bit of a bitch to you over the years, but once you saw how serious she was about being in a relationship with you, couldn’t you just let bygones by bygones?
Suguru arched one of those thin eyebrows, giving her one of those irksome looks that implied he didn’t think it was a good idea.
But he was a man.
What did they know?
“You think she’s going to take it well?” He tentatively asked, and she couldn’t help scoff.
“She likes Satoshi. Satoshi is me,” she simply said, gesturing with her hands as if it should be obvious. “Besides, shouldn’t she be grateful for my attention? Anyone would be.”
Suguru laughed, like it was a joke.
But she just scowled back at him, completely serious as she tried to get what he didn’t get about the whole thing.
Whoever got to be with her was the lucky one.
Toru was beyond beautiful. Wealthy. Wore the best clothes and went to all the best vacation spots every year. Who wouldn’t want to be hers?
It was just common sense.
She’d been worshipped from the day she was born. It wasn’t like she was expecting you to do the same. She just wanted you to see how fortunate you were to have her favor.
God, any girl would die to be in your shoes. Guys too, actually, beg for her attention and crawl on their knees for the tiniest slice of the attention she gave you.
Sure, maybe she wasn’t always good at getting it across verbally, but she couldn’t risk someone else sneaking in and stealing your attention! Besides, her mouth seemed to always speak for itself around you, never saying exactly what she intended to when all her brain could think of was the shape of your lips and how your uniform clung to your tits since she’d bribed the office to keep sending you the size down.
She could admit that she could be a little aggressive, but she just wanted you to finally fucking admit that you wanted her too. Not just play hard to get and avoid her all the damn time.
“She’s probably just going to complain about you,” Suguru warned her, jealousy flaring up in her chest as she ran her fingers through her hair.
What the hell did he know?
At least you were talking about her.
Toru would rather your thoughts revolve around her than to be nothing to you at all.
“She was definitely checking out my tits today,” she defensively argued, even though Suguru was still making an annoying face at her. So what if he didn’t believe her?
You had, hadn’t you? This wasn’t just totally in her head?
Maybe you didn’t even realize you’d done it. Toru had been trying her hardest to get you to see that you were obviously a lesbian like her, that the two of you were clearly compatible.
“Uh-huh,” he mumbled, and she wanted to yank the pillow out from underneath his head and smother him with it.
“Are you going to call her or not?” She pouted, returning to the point as he slowly scrolled through the messages.
She imagined you back in your own bed, maybe biting your pretty lips until they were swollen, breaking the skin as you waited for a response. Would you let Toru lick the blood off if you knew it was her on the other end?
“For fifty bucks,” he exhaled, and she once again contemplated suffocating him.
But she was still shrugging down her purse, digging through its messy contents to pull out a hundred and toss it at him.
“You’re such a dick,” she derisively huffed, even though she had started this whole arrangement by promising to pay him a couple years ago. Begging him to let her use his photos to catfish you, and despite his initial moral protests that it was wrong, blah blah blah, he eventually caved in.
It wasn’t ever supposed to last this long.
She meant to tell you months ago. But there were always pesky little flies buzzing around every time she tried to talk to you at school, and she couldn’t get the correct words to leave her lips when everyone was always watching the two of you together.
God, even when she tried to talk to you in the bathroom when you ate your lunch in there alone, people still fucking followed her.
“You better pull your pants down a little and snap a pic if I’m paying you,” she hissed at her only actual friend, just for Suguru to roll his eyes at her again from his lazy position on the bed.
God, did she have to do everything herself?
She climbed on top, grabbing his slacks by the hips and wiggling it down as low as she could without revealing his disgusting dick. She didn't really understand what you could possibly find appealing about the obviously inferior gender, but maybe it was just because you didn't know better yet. Hadn't seen what her pretty tits looked like without her uniform covering them or properly experienced a woman’s touch.
“Are you serious-”
Toru ignored Suguru, tugging his shirt up too and snagging the phone back, carefully angling it to snap a photo that captured his dark happy trail, the defined muscles and ridges of his abs and hitting send.
It was almost instantly marked as seen.
She stared at the screen, willing your response, wishing for something in return and grinning wildly when you sent an image back.
Your uniform removed to reveal your gorgeous tits pressed together in a pretty white bra. Had you picked it out for her? Or well, Satoshi? Your face wasn’t in it, but she could imagine what expression you were making. How your lashes might flutter, how your bottom lip might push out.
Were you touching yourself?
“Do you still want me to call her or do you wanna go rub one out?” Suguru sarcastically asked, his voice thick with sleep from the nap she ‘rudely’ interrupted.
“Ask her to send a video of her doing that,” she demanded, holding the phone back out while he let out a low exhale, shutting his eyes like he hadn’t meant to sign up for that.
“Do I at least get to watch the video if she sends it?” He grumbled, and Toru glared back at him, folding her arms across her chest as she gritted her teeth.
“Fine,” she begrudgingly accepted.
It was only natural, she supposed. She spent almost every day bragging to him about how gorgeous you were, rambling about all the cute faces you made and funny things you’d said. Of course, he’d want to experience the little pieces of you Toru was generous enough to share.
He took the phone, hitting the call button as Toru gestured for him to put in on speaker while it rang. He did, and you only took a second to answer.
“Hi,” your soft voice breathed on the other end, and a jolt of excitement shot through Toru.
You sounded so adorable. She just wanted to take a bite. Sink her teeth into you so deep you’d be stuck with the bite marks for the rest of your life.
“Hey, pretty girl,” Suguru greeted, keeping a straight face while Toru suppressed actually giggling at the light sound of your pretty laughter through the phone.
“What are you doing?” You asked, all sweet and sincere.
“Just thinkin’ about you,” Suguru smoothly replied. Toru couldn’t help rolling her eyes at him, having a hard time believing any girl could actually be stupid enough to-
“Really?”
Nevermind.
This was exactly why you needed Toru. Sure, Suguru was her best friend, but moronic men like him would never be able to take care of you like she could!
“I liked that photo you sent me,” he murmured into the phone, pitching his voice down while Toru’s nails bit into her palm, imprinting half-circles into them as she heard your breathing hitch on the other end.
“Y-yeah?” You stuttered a little bit, as precious as always. A little awkward, too, but that was part of what made you so addicting. What made Toru so desperate to be the one you were stammering and stumbling over your words for. “I liked yours.”
“You wanna show me just how much?” Suguru spoke slowly, leaving the implication up in the air for you to jump to your own conclusion.
To decide just how badly you wanted to please Satoshi.
“You want another photo?” You asked after a moment, temptation teetering there. Toru was dying to touch you. Be there in your bed as she heard your sheets rustling underneath your body through the grainy line. Replaying all the pretty expressions you’d worn in the hall earlier, imagining how different the one you had on now was.
“I want more, angel,” Suguru replied, immediately reminding Toru that you still didn’t know you were hers yet, still enveloped in this boy version of her that she and Suguru fabricated. “Are you touching yourself for me?”
“Maybe,” you shyly said, close enough to a confession.
“Think you could record it for me, sweetheart?” He hummed, careful not to sound demanding, just issuing a little dare she knew you would take out of fear of disappointing him.
“If you really want me to,” you hesitantly replied, all light and airy. Barely needing to be nudged to agree to send a video of your breathy moans, one where your fingers would slip underneath your matching panties as you cried out after someone that never really existed.
“Good girl.”
You didn’t even ask him not to show anyone else.
Just blindly trusted him.
Would you still feel the same when you knew it was really her? Follow her lead and stay on her leash?
Sometimes, you sorta reminded Toru of a lost little lamb. One she had to shepherd back into place. It wasn’t like she was trying to put the crook around your neck, to pull you close, but she’d do what she had to just to have you.
ε✿з
Be there in five. Can’t wait for you to finally be mine.
“Can I help you, miss?” A hotel employee startled you, blinking hard a few times in surprise as you swallowed hard and shook your head.
“I’m, um, just waiting on someone,” you answered with a tight smile, grateful when they seemed to accept that answer, nodding politely and walking away as you rested against the wall rather than taking a seat on one of the stiff couches clustered together by coffee tables nearby.
You were too anxious to sit.
Nerves racing under your skin as you continuously checked the time, smoothing out the skirt you picked out and glancing down at the revealing shirt you’d chosen after he made a comment about how much he was looking forward to burying his face against your breasts.
But as minute five came and passed, you still hadn’t spotted a single sign of him.
You felt like an idiot, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you kept scanning the lobby for a glimpse of blue like he promised. Pulling up your phone to read and reread his latest message for comfort.
Fingers tapping the keyboard, typing out a message to ask if he was close only to delete it and try to reword it, wasting another few minutes struggling to come up with something not totally desperate to say only to come up empty.
A familiar giggle made your blood run cold.
In a single instant, your mood was spoiled, rotten, head snapping in trepidation as you saw the blue you were searching for at the receptionist’s desk. Just on the wrong person.
A tight blue dress clinging to the hips of your least favorite person, pushing her boobs up and riding high on her thighs as she turned towards you, eyes locking onto yours like she already knew you’d be here.
The receptionist passed her two keycards, and she had to readjust the huge bouquet of flowers in her hand to grab it before she started walking towards you, her tall heels clicking against the tiled lobby.
“Don’t you look adorable?” She smiled at you. Smiled. You were pretty sure your brain short-circuited. Overwhelmed by the fact a compliment had left her lips with not a hint of cruelty. Perhaps a sliver of condescension, but unless your stare was suddenly deceiving you (and you so badly wished it was) she actually appeared genuine.
“W-what are you-” You started stammering, heat rushing up to your face as she stepped even closer, looking down at you with amusement glittering in her pretty eyes as she pushed the flowers into your arms.
“I'm Satoshi, silly,” she hummed, her mouth curling up in a smirk that just screamed she was proud of her scheme.
“No, no,” you bluntly said, struggling to breathe when her words threatened to unravel years of a relationship you’d been clinging to, counting on to keep your sanity intact. “He called me. Sent me voice messages, photos-”
“I had to get my friend Suguru to help,” she admitted, fake sympathy in her practiced smile as she reached out and touched your cheek. Caressed it with her soft fingers while you stood there in too much shock to recoil. “But all the conversations were me, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
The word had never made you feel so fucking sick before.
Satoshi had called you that all the time. But he was apparently her, and the realization that all your raw vulnerabilities, all the times you poured your heart and soul out just for Toru to be on the receiving end. All those reassurances you’d hung onto, the pretty words you copied down into diaries and woven into your brain, they all belonged to her.
Betrayal burning through you as you tried to process the depth of their deception. How many layers to it were there? How much time had she spent just to keep up this charade? Pretending to be a fucking man to what?
Humiliate you even more than she did on a daily basis?
“Am I just a sick joke to you?” You asked, voice thick with hurt you couldn't hide anymore. She tormented you for years. What the hell else were you supposed to think?
“You're my girlfriend?” She retorted, tilting her head to the side as if she couldn't understand what you were confused about.
“You hate me,” you pointed out, mentally replaying every mean word out of her mouth from the day you met. All the times she accused you of wanting to have sex with her and basically being a lovesick loser.
“I like you,” she corrected you, and you got the distinct impression this wasn't exactly the reaction she'd been expecting from you.
And in the next thick pause, the silence where you stared at her with an open mouth, you realized that perhaps she'd been projecting.
That maybe the obsessed one had been her all along.
You stepped back, shaking your head as you heard yourself scoff.
“Do you just want me to say sorry?” Toru asked, her glittery lip gloss catching the light as she dramatically pouted. “I am, you know, I just get so excited when I see you, it’s hard to hold it in.”
You blinked.
Her eyes shifted down to your chest, openly ogling you as pink bloomed against her pretty cheeks, her fingers slipping back into your hair like you were a couple.
As if, in any universe, this could be considered normal.
You wanted to scream.
To storm off and slam the glass door behind you.
Go back to your room and cry into the pillow after you scrubbed every stupid photo and video you ever saved of Satoshi from your phone.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to graduate and get as far from Toru as possible, find a place with your boyfriend and start a new life where you could forget about the past few years you’d spent here.
“What did I do to ever deserve you doing this to me?” You breathed, a hot lump forming in your throat as you tried to hold back the sob that wanted to break out. Hyper aware of how hard you tried on your makeup this morning, how much time you’d spent picking out what to wear and how to style your hair, desperate to impress someone who apparently didn’t even exist.
The tears were welling up anyway, heavy in your lashes and collecting in the corners of your eyes as you felt the stares of people passing by. The whispering you’d gotten used to whenever you were around Toru.
Her face scrunched up, her annoyingly pretty mouth parting as she moved her hand to drag her thumb underneath your eyes. Wiping away your tears while she tilted her head to the side, loose waves bouncing in time with her huff, “Are you seriously crying?”
“You catfished me,” you said, hating how crushed you sounded. But you were. In a handful of seconds, she had decimated any ounce of your confidence you had left. Reduced you to rubble under her stupid red-bottomed heels and then rubbed it into the glossy tiles you were standing on. “You’ve been calling me a lesbian for years, but you-”
“That’s because you are one,” she said, perfectly plucked brows knitting together tightly as she took a small step closer. Almost enough for both your chests to touch, her eyes drifting back down for what felt like the twentieth time at your shirt. “I mean, I am too, was it not obvious?”
No, it absolutely wasn’t fucking obvious, but the way she said it was enough to make you freeze.
Honestly, if anything, you thought she was a little homophobic before this, but you didn’t know how she’d take that.
“Come on, you can just admit that you were crushing on me, you don’t have to keep-” You made some sound at her insane statement, pure disgust mixing with the scoff that escaped.
“I hate you,” you half-whispered. Loathing burning in those three short words as you tried to find the strength to move. But she didn’t flinch. Just pursed her lips together as she batted her soft, white lashes at you.
“You told Satoshi you loved him last night,” she so unhelpfully reminded you, speaking slowly as if she was giving you time to think between her words. “That means you love me.”
“I-”
You couldn’t even get out what you wanted to say when she started twirling a loose strand of your hair around one of her long fingers.
Was she actually trying to seduce you?
Her chest pressed against yours, not sparing so much as a glance to anyone else in the lobby despite how much attention she had to know she was drawing as you felt her tits through her thin dress rubbing against yours like you were playing the starring role in a cheap porno.
“Think about all those late nights we stayed up together,” she purred, looking down at you the same way she always did, and you wondered how you ever could have missed the hunger in them before.
Well, that wasn’t quite true. You’d seen it.
You just hadn’t realized what she was starving for.
“All those times we talked about our families and our lives and what we wanted to do with them. All the stuff we wanted to do together,” Toru hummed, her nose nearly brushing against yours now too. You were struggling to wrap your head around the idea of her being the one you spilled everything too. Fuck, how many times had you complained to her about her?
“I didn’t know-” You started, but she made a soft shushing sound that somehow shut you up.
“We can still do all of it,” she promised, like you had any interest in any of it now that you knew what a fool you’d been for putting your trust in someone you never actually knew. In her. “Me and you.”
You got the impression in your already flustered brain that she was trying to be romantic.
That this was all supposed to be some grand gesture to show you that her feelings were genuine.
But it just felt like fresh embarrassment.
Your heart slamming against your rib cage while your thoughts ran in the same panicked circles, falling apart in front of a room full of strangers.
It sort of felt like you were being proposed to in public. Forced to say yes to not seem like a total asshole when everyone else was probably convinced she was earnestly confessing to you.
And after years of being around her, you already had the experience to know the universe would always side with her.
“What do you expect me to say?” You finally spoke, flat-out dumbfounded as your voice trembled. Her treachery was already twisting into something else in your stomach, your body attempting to turn it into something flattering just so you could cope with it. The intoxicating scent of her perfume stuffing your nostrils and clouding your thinking as you struggled to sort out all the different emotions rattling around inside you.
The hurt and the heartache and the conflicting feelings of loss and longing for someone that wasn’t there. The scariest part was that some sliver of you was starting to consider Toru.
Starting to want her.
Acknowledging that you couldn’t actually have Satoshi, and coming to the conclusion that she was the closest fucking thing you had.
The thought itself was incredibly depressing.
“I love you, Toru?” She offered, doing her own impression of your voice.
“I don’t,” you argued, although you weren’t sure how convincing it actually came out when her proximity left your voice quivering.
“What? You only loved me as a boy then?” She grinded her sharp canines, not quite glaring, but clearly unhappy as her blue eyes bored into yours.
“How was I supposed to know my boyfriend was you?”
Other than the fact he was obviously too good to be true. A guy like that would never be interested in you. No, the only person who was, apparently, was your insane classmate who’d been pretending to be a man for two years just to get you to fall for her.
You almost wished this was simply blackmail. That she just wanted to hold your humiliation over your head.
This felt so much worse. So much ickier.
Especially when your body was beginning to betray your mind just with her touch, her scent, warping what your senses with her cruel fingers and soft skin.
“A girlfriend is way better than a boyfriend,” she huffed at you, rolling her eyes like you should already know that.
“You want to be my girlfriend?” You asked, meant to be rhetorical rather than serious. But her eyes lit up, lips lifting up into a blinding smile as she nodded.
“Duh.”
No. No. No.
This could not be-
“Let’s go check out our room,” she hummed, effortlessly changing the subject as she backed off only to grab your wrist. Throwing an annoyed look over her shoulder at all the passerbys who had not-so-subtly paused to watch whatever was happening between both of you. “So annoying how people are always obsessed with me.”
Too blind to see how much of a hypocrite she was being.
You were too stunned to stop her. Feet uselessly following after her as her pale fingertips dug deeper into your skin, dragging you around like you were just an accessory on her arm.
Feeling almost like you were floating along, trying to tell yourself that this was all just some fucked-up dream you’d wake up from before you got there.
But you didn’t.
Just standing there like an idiot when she was holding the keycard up to the door, glancing down to realize you were still holding the flowers in your other limp hand.
The saddest part was you were pretty sure no one else would give you anything as remotely nice as these.
“I wasn’t trying to ask you to be-” You tried one more time, but she was already opening the door and pulling you in.
“You know, you’re kinda being ungrateful,” she huffed, shutting the door with a heavy thud as she dropped her designer purse on the floor. You didn’t even think she knew how much it cost. Probably just purchased it without considering how many meals that much money could’ve bought someone else.
“I’m ungrateful?” You echoed, hurt coiling hot in your core as you stared in disbelief at her in front of you. You wanted it to be hurt, at least, forcing yourself to look away only to find rose petals all over the floor.
She reached around to start pulling down the zipper of her dress, stepping out of her heels without pausing before shimmying her clothes off.
Shit.
She wasn’t wearing a fucking shred underneath.
You weren’t a lesbian. At least, you were pretty sure you weren’t a lesbian. But something was fluttering inside you against your will at the subtle bounce of her breasts when she bent over to pick up a rose petal and pinch it between her fingers, pouting like she was disappointed by the color of them.
“I mean, you have me in front of you, and you’re not even appreciating it,” she complained.
“If you’re expecting me to beg for you-” you started, awkwardly turning to place the flowers on the closest table, but that only gave her the opportunity to move closer. To bridge the gap between you.
“I’m not,” she argued back, but the mischievous little grin on her face was enough to cast doubt. “But you will anyway.”
Your mouth fell open, and it felt like she had your heart in her fist, squeezing it to watch the blood slowly drip out.
“I’ve seen how pretty you look begging,” she murmured, and that heat simmering inside you just creeped higher, flooding your face as you realized what she meant. Remembered all those videos you’d sent her thinking Satoshi was seeing them. “Wanna hear it for myself.”
And before you could even deal with the notion that Toru had a plethora of videos of you masturbating stashed away, that she probably had fingered herself to you, she was kissing you.
She tasted like candy.
Sugary sweet gloss melting onto your lips as her mouth messily collided with yours. You froze for a few moments, but your lips started to kiss her back. Parting to let her tongue slip in as you were torn between telling her to stop and letting this continue.
What could you do?
What should you do?
If she sent those videos to anyone, your life would be fucking ruined. But you didn’t want to just be Toru’s pet, something she doted on in secret and embarrassed in public.
And at the same time, your body was reacting to hers almost instinctively, leaning forward instead of pulling away, despite your arms falling to your side, unsure if you could even touch her back.
Toru, on the other hand, was grabbing a handful of your ass – and one of your tits too. Groping and squeezing while her tongue explored your mouth like she owned it all.
Maybe if you gave into her now, if you let her have this, have you this once, you could still just leave anyway after graduation. Change your number when you changed cities, fuck, maybe changed countries if it meant getting away from the war she was waging between your head and heart.
“You’re such a bitch,” you breathed when she broke the kiss, knowing that if she kissed you again, you weren’t going to stop her either.
She laughed. At that, or maybe just at you.
And then she was grabbing your hips, twisting you around and guiding you back to the bed, pushing you down on it hard enough to knock the air from your chest.
“Don’t be a brat,” she pouted, pushing her glossy lips out as she easily rolled up your little skirt around your hips. Grinning at the sight of your lacy little panties, the pure white shade that came a little too close to her hair that she quickly pulled down around your thighs next.
“I’m not a-”
Your words died in your throat as she slipped a delicate finger inside your warmth before you could protest what exactly you were. No better than a bitch in heat when just an experimental circle had a broken gasp escaping your mouth.
She smiled at you again, pride and amusement shining like stars in her blue stare. You supposed she’d just found a new way to play with her favorite toy.
“You’re so cute,” she complimented, climbing on top of you, her knee nudging your thighs further apart as her other hand trailed underneath your shirt.
You swallowed hard. You knew you should say something else.
Tell her to fuck off.
But nothing came out.
All the words dried up as she dragged her finger even deeper inside you.
And then added another digit. Slowly getting to work stretching you open, feeling the way your walls started to squeeze down reflexively as she held your stare hostage.
“You wanna tell me just how much you don’t like me?” She condescendingly hummed, daring you to disagree with her.
“Do you hate me?” You asked instead, still struggling to wrap your head around the fact this was happening, no longer confident in something you had been certain of an hour ago. That somehow, you were proving her right. That just by being underneath her like this, with the taste of her candied lip gloss on your mouth and her fingers stuffing you full, you had become exactly what she said you were.
A loser in love with her.
You tried to tell yourself again that you weren’t.
“I’m literally, like, in love with you,” she pouted, a hint of a familiar whine in it like she was sick of saying the same thing in different ways. “What do I have to do to make you see that, hm, pretty?”
Probably erase the past few years from your memory, but you had a feeling she might engineer something like a car accident if it had the chance to cause retrograde amnesia – and force you to let her take care of you.
And then her thumb drifted over your clit, and you forgot what you were thinking anyway with the soft pressure she applied.
“Doesn’t it feel good?” She hummed, begging to rub careful circles over it, your body tensing as your chest tightened at the sensation. Your overheating core threatened to send shivers down your spine as her fingertips prodded deeper, faster.
“T-Toru-” You didn’t know what you were even trying to say, brows knitting together as sweat started to drip down your forehead, everything inside you quickly grew all fuzzy.
“You know, no one else could make you feel this good, sweetheart,” she said, teasing you as her thumb pressed that sensitive bud between your thighs like it was a goddamn button.
Activating an embarrassingly primal part of your brain as you felt the pleasure build closer towards a climax you couldn’t believe you might be having.
“No one else will ever know you like I do,” Toru continued, and you loathed that she might be correct. You told her everything. Every thought. Every secret. Every dream. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to trust anyone else like that again. “Love you like I do.”
You wanted to hate this as much as you hated her.
But her fingers were longer than yours, hitting spots you couldn't on your own as she slipped a third one in, swirling it around to tease you with that pretty, lilting laugh of hers.
“Look at you,” she cooed, still mocking you even when you were in her hotel bed. “Soaked on my fingers like a slut.”
You were.
Shaking and squirming as her fingers pumped in and out of you, whimpering weakly as she played you like a goddamn instrument. You knew you were going to cum.
Knew that she’d won.
Toru had made a mess of you. Unravelled you into a million little pieces that probably would never be put back together again.
“That’s it, my pretty little lamb,” she cooed, and you wished your head was a little clearer to understand what she giggled about next. Your thighs trembling when she finally crooked her fingers just right, her thumb dragging over your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to finally make you cum for her.
Your eyes drifting down to her bare body over you, her perfect tits, her flawless skin, the shape of her hips and thighs as her fingers worked in and out of you, her thumb working you through your orgasm as you broke.
Bent into something unrecognizable under her pressure, her presence, blinking as your brain basically stopped functioning when she filled it with just thoughts of her.
Watching numbly when she stood up and walked to her bag and back, white hair spilling over her shoulder as she tilted her head to the side to look at the phone in her hand, squinting at the screen as she angled it to capture where you were splayed out in the bleached white sheets.
student!k.bakugo x spiderwoman!/student fem reader
background: you and bakugo have been dating for months now, most days have been easier than most but you both preserved through it all. until one day you discovered a new side within yourself, your life changed in such little time. you now fight to save japan remaining anonymous, everyday gets easier keeping both sides of yourself separated. but can you be able to salvage your relationship without honesty?
ONE. PROMISE
You panicked when katsuki left you on read, scrambling through your apartment hiding your suit and gadgets or anything out of the ordinary. You quickly attempted to detach your web shooters from your wrists until you were interrupted by the sound of the front door, it was no question who was on the other side of the door.
bakugo knocked the door, no- BANGED the door many times more than you can count. by the time you reached the door letting him in he was already about to knock again. “What took so long?” he already stepped inside treating your apartment like his home, “had to clean up a bit before you barged in.” you replied with a hint of sarcasm, he scoffed at your reply as he bumped your shoulder but not hard enough to cause a bruise.
bakugo took a few steps forward from you until he broke the silence, “you never told me why you’re cooping up here.” his back faced you whilst your eyes focused on his tenseness, “just been sick, i’ll be back next week.” bakugo turned to you as his stare told you more than his words could say.
“and you didn’t text me this at all?” you could’ve sworn you heard a hint of a crack in his voice, it made your heart shatter into a million pieces. “it’s not like that katsuk-“ he quickly interrupted you as his vermillion eyes immediately stared at your e/cs. “so what is it supposed to be like? i’m here too yn, you don’t gotta go through shit by yourself. we’re a team godamnit.”
your breath hitched as he brought his hand up your cheek caressing your skin, “i’ll try to text you more, i’ll update you every second-“ he brought your face up gently making you finally look at him, you stopped speaking as you finally looked at him. “i’m not asking for changes overnight. nor i’m i asking for you to flood my messages, i just want you to lean on me once and while. let me carry what you swallow.” you didn’t respond quickly, thinking of what to say before speaking, your eyes first glanced at his eyes that showed empathy and care. letting him in would make everything harder, how would he react to the truth? would he take it easy or hard? maybe it’s better to keep pretending and show parts of yourself that you choose to let him see.
“your’e right, i promise ill try my best to lean on you more baby.” bakugo’s eyes opened slightly upon you calling him baby, the nickname never gets old for him, he then closed the distance between you both as he held you in his arms. the quiet atmosphere quickly became into a safe space, both of your breaths matched paces as you heard the steady beat of his heart while feeling yours.
bakugo kept your promise locked in his heart for safe keeping, determined to make it permanent, whilst in your mind the promise was only temporary.
i loove ur puppy!satoru and bunny!reader ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾ mor plz hehe
Warnings: PuppyHybrid!Satoru x fembunnyhybrid!reader, smut, dubcon, licking, mentions of Suguru (he’s a perv), jerking off, exhibtionism. I hope you like this!!! Enjoy!!
Toru absolutely has no sense of when things should be done and when they shouldn’t be done, he’s completely fine with having a full on make-out session with you right as Suguru is clicking away at the channels a few inches away from you to. you hate public displays of affection so you’re always whining and pawing to get away from him. He really won’t have any of it, he’s trying his hardest to suck on your tongue or trying to slip his hands under your shirt. 
Suguru really seems to not care in the least bit, he’ll intervene to tell Satoru to calm down but apart from that he doesn’t mind the small moans that make your way up your throat.
Nor does he bat an eye when Satoru is blatantly tugging down his sweats to free his already leaky cocklet, he has no shame with the way he’s rubbing your pussy through your underwear, and when Satoru places you on his lap, quickly shutting you up with a small warning growl, he still isn’t turning his head.
Satoru slips his needy cock right into you with no problem, you were already wet enough just from the kissing. He’s filiting himself right into your gummy walls and fucking up into you. Satoru is a loud moaner, he practically howls as he milks himself with your pussy over and over. His bunny feels so damn good how could he not ruin you over and over?
You and Satoru don’t see it but Suguru is totally looking: but not making it obvious and even if he did you two still wouldn’t notice in your state right now. He’s staring at where you and Satoru connect, creating that nasty milky ring that dribbles down Satoru’s thighs. Suguru starts rubbing at his thigh, trying to zone out as to not seem like a pervert, but aren’t you two the perverts here?
Without regard for privacy anymore, Suguru rubs his cock through his pants, squeezing his tip in tune with the way Satoru makes you bounce agaisnt his dick.
And it’s not long before he just rips his dick out from its confines and jerks off, rubbing the precum from his tip all the way to his heavy balls, Satoru lifts your legs and he gets to have a better angle at your soft pillowy cunt, you’re so damn wet, glistening in the warm light and oh so beautiful!
thinking about how big tough guy katsuki crumbles into a whiny pathetic little thing the moment ur foot presses down on his hard on. (twt!link)
19:54, he’d come in the house bitchin’ about some trainee that was assigned to shadow him at work getting in the way of him fighting villains, to which of course you tried to comfort him! but he dismissed you with a single sentence “going to get changed.” you hated when he’d let things happened at work, determine the energy that he’d bring in the house. plus- his mindless rambling lead him to be shedding his gauntlets and the rest of his hero uniform down to his boxers in a trail to your shared bedroom. leaving you to trail behind him and pick it up in annoyance.
strike one.
the stoves screen read 21:36, you placed a bowl of spaghetti in front of the already grumpy man along with a slice of garlic bread. you didn’t miss the way he smacked his teeth when he seen what was in the bowl. “this shit again?” he looked up at you with a confused expression, then he eyes leaving yours as he sighed dramatically, picked up the fork and took a bite. “swear it gets saltier every time i fuckin’ eat it…” he thought he mumbled to himself but you heard him loud and clear.
strike two.
you don’t even know what time it was now. you sat on the couch next to katsuki, but left some space in between the two of you. he was occupied with some action movie on the tv while you were trying to read some essay on substack. trying to read with the loud gunshots and blurts of profanity every five seconds while the tv was on volume 36 was driving you insane!
you took the remote and turned it down to 20. katsuki’s face twisted up as he looked over at you, “the fuck? what did you do that for?” he asked with some bite to his tone. you set the remote back down in between the two of you and went back to read on your phone, “too loud.” you spared him only two words, which really ticked him off. “okay? then go in the bedroom or some shit? don’t turn the fuckin’ tv down?” he grabbed the remote and turned it back up to 36.
you could go in the bedroom - but you didn’t want to! it’s just having the human decency of being considerate about what those around you are doing! “i don’t want to be in the bedroom right now, stop being such a dick!” you took the remote from him and turned it back down to 20, setting it back down in the gap between you. “if i’m being a dick, then you’re being a bitch!” he spat out taking the remote and turning it up to 40, and instead of putting in back on the couch he held the remote in his hand.
strike three.
you finally got up and stood in front of him, in between his manspread legs blocking his way of the tv. he tried to swerve his head around your body see the tv but you wouldn’t let him. you snatched the remote from him and turned the tv off. “what the fuck is your problem!?” he said, finally looked up at you. he eyes taking in the sight of your arms crossed over your chest making them spill out of your tiny tank top, a slight pout that you tried to stop from gracing your face, and your eyebrows pinched together in complete frustration. he thought you didn’t see the way he slightly bit his lip at the sight in front of him “no katsuki, what the fuck is your problem!” you leaned down to jab a finger, giving him a better view of your already prevalent cleavage.
“you come in here, bitch about your day and don’t even want to be comforted about it!” you stood back up as you counted on three fingers everything he’s done in the span of like 4 hours. “you talk shit under your breath about dinner after i told you im not making nothing new until all of that spaghetti is gone” you tick another finger down. his eyes now low as they watch you frustratedly talk about all the shit he’s done since you’ve seen him today “and then you start a petty ass argument with me because the tv was absolutely too fuckin’- are you seriously getting hard right now?”
you thought you were imagining how his hips twitched and slightly bucked as you were fussing at him, but now that you’re actually looking, you can clearly see the bulge forming under his pajama pants. katsukis hand drifted to his hard on as he pressed his palm against it, a satisfied sigh leaving his plump lips. you couldn’t believe his shamelessness, “you’re fucking unbelievable!”
katsuki doesn’t know what happened in between the seconds that you lifted your leg up and gently landed your foot right on his lap,
but he does know that he’ll be embarrassed at the sound he made forever.
“mmmnfghh-fuck!” he tried muffled his moan with his hand. his head tossing back on the couch as he pushed his hips up against the arch of your foot. “giving me attitude n’ now your humping my foot?” you pressed your foot down harder, watching his face scrunch up as he tried to swerve his hips away. his effort made no impact whatsoever, as you kept your foot pressed against him.
“pathetic.” you spat, your words made him moan all pretty. “ouuuh-fuck!-haaah..” his hips buck against your heel, he bites his lip as his low eyes are trained on your face. “imagine what everyone would think if they saw the temperamental hero humping my foot like a fucking dog.” he throws his head back at the thought of anyone else seeing him like this. face flushed, lips all swollen from the constant lip biting he was doing, hips chasing your foot for any type of pressure on his dick like a fucking dork.
this is probably the most embarrassing position he’s ever been put in.
katsuki felt like he was losing himself with each drag of your foot against his clothed cock, his breathy moans frequenting as he chases the pleasure. “mmfffuckk.. gonna make me cum jus’ like anghh!- thisss” he whined as he covered his face with both of his large hands. cute, you thought. “go ahead, make a mess on my foot like the pathetic little thing you are.” you said with a disinterested tone of voice, but deep down, you couldn’t ignore how the scenic view in front of you make your panties sticky with slick. your big tough boyfriend, weakened down to that of an animal in heat, only focused on getting pleasure no matter how embarrassing he may look.
his large hands covered his face, he knew this would haunt him. you would torment him about this very moment forever, but in this moment all he cared about was the sudden tightening of his balls as they prepared to shoot a load in his pajama pants. “ohhsshitt.. ‘m gonna cu-anghh! don’t stop!!” his sudden high pitched moans only made you rub your foot harder against his cock. his hands flew from his face to your foot as he grinded his cock against your foot, his movements stilling for the first time as he feels the knot in his stomach come undone.
his cock shooting hot cum in his pajamas pants, his toes curled in his socks from the pure intensity.“ooohhhfffuuuuhhcckk” he groaned throwing his head back, giving you a clear view of his adam’s apple bobbing up and down when silently gasping and breaths tried to escape his throat. the feeling your foot still rubbing against him while he came to prolong his orgasm had him gripping his hand around your ankle to stop you. when you finally lifted your foot from his crotch and stood up straight again, you saw the big wet spot on his pajama pants.
you roughly grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at you as you leaned down to speak in his face. “don’t do that shit ever again, katsuki.” was the last thing you said as you patted his cheek, not hard but enough to get your point across. you grabbed your phone from off of the couch, and walked away to the bedroom. your footsteps faded away while he sat manspread on the couch, a dumbfounded look on his red face, a bit of drool leaving his plump lips, arms laying helplessly by his sides, cum-stained pajama pants, legs slightly trembling, and his cock getting hard again.
he palmed himself once again, lazily looking in the direction of the bedroom.
“shit.”
a/n: thinking abt katsuki a lot lately, how abt u?
previous item on the menu: katsuki who presses on ur stomach when u gotta go
warning : NOT PROOFREAD, potential bad grammar and spelling.
note : it’s my second time writing so mistakes will be made, but hopefully you guys enjoy!! and please leave and tips for me in the comments and messages!!
word count : 1.4k!!
you’re jason’s camerawomen and you live in the guest house. it’s mainly for convenience when jason wants to stream irl or just wants some help in general.
but today however your hanging around with jason and his chat in his streaming room, just joking around.
your sat next to jason, sideways on a short spinning chair one arm rested on the back while your fiddling with your hands. your one leg pressed under you, folded, while the other leg hangs off.
you guys are just catching up on some new clips, and a few new pop culture things that are happening or have recently happened.
after taking a sip of water, you place your plastic water bottle down. you decide to bring up lizzy mcalphines new song release due to you being a fan. you start to talk about how she hard launched her new boyfriend to her recent song and suddenly now you’ve entered a rant about partners.
jason makes a jokey comment on your lack of love life and social life in generally seeing as you only moved to LA right when jason hired you, meaning you had no friends out side of this circle.
you decide clap back “ohhh!!” laugh-fully “well thank you dash cam with the 5 gifted” you say clapping your hands together. smiling sticking your tongue out eagerly.
jeans laughs “oohhhhh you wanna play like that” squinting his eyes and making his face tilt side to side with a big fake angered smile.
you laugh and say “what? what?” mimicking his face. you tilt your own head side to side. saying “what” in a slightly deeper tone.
jason turns to chat, “woahhh, guest house with the 2gifteddd” he says giggling and clapping while hovering lightly over his chair.
you feign innocents tapping your chin with your finger with confusion covering your face.
“hmmm, see i don’t know what your trying to imply here, i mean i just live there??!” you say shrugging you shoulders and smiling slightly in an amused way.
jason jumps up shrugging his shoulders and flaying his hands in the air “hmm, well who else lives there… hmmm” he says with a smug look on his face, side eyeing you while facing chat. putting his hands together slightly clapping.
youu look at chat and they are going crazyyy
NO WAY DHE MEANTIONED THE DASH CAM🫣🫣
guest house???? hmm some devil activities i see👀👀
LAIYS AND DREW
LAIYSSS HMMM
SHE KNOWS SOMETHING LOOKKK AT HERR
“it’s only me, drew and laiys” you say the last name slightly quieter, yet still having an amused look on your face as you answer.
“last name sounds familiar.. doesn’t it” he says with feigned confusion.
“woahhh reallyyy” you say in a sarcastic tone right before you hear the door open…
you both shoot you head to look at who it is.
laiys walks in arms curved up wards, almost like he’s gonna pull someone in for a hug
“hey” he says to both of yall putting his arm up in that awkward wave.
jason pulls his head forward as he laughs, while you just put your head in your hand that rests on the back of your seat.
jason pulls his head backwards turning to look at laiys
“no wayyy, we was just talking about youu” he says amused, emphasises on the “wayyy” and the “just talking” while slapping the back of his hand, with his other hand.
“oh really..” laiys says smiling. he’s looking at you as you lift your head up and you start laughing in a quiet way.
“in a good way i hope” he says in that weird derp smile while grabbing your plastic water bottle off the desk in-front of him. smacking it together as he talked, right before opening it and taking a sip.
you hum a silent “mhm” as you watch him take a sip.
“no! actually” your attention gets drawn towards jason “we was just talking about your big ego with all the mogging edits your getting” he says smiling feigning amusement. you laugh at that and start looking between jason and laiys.
laiys eyes go wide, in a joking tone, humming a “mm” as he lifts the water bottle away from his lips, closing it and silently putting it next you you “oh! really?? that’s so weird? cuz i was just watching the stream??”.
as he says that, you feel his arm balance on your chair. his other hand also resting on jason’s chair due to him being in the middle.
you huff a laugh out through your nose at the comment.
jason looks between the both of you. he stops to fully look at laiys and smacks laiys hand off his chair “get out” he says in a light angry tone pointing and the door he came in.
laiys flinches back hand moving close to his body, yet due to laiys movement he ends up also moving your chair slightly on accident and starts leaning down to laugh in his own chest where his arm rested.
however due to the sudden movement of your chair you jolt back, arm flaring in the air, one arm grabbing the desk the other grabbing laiys’ forearm.
you and laiys both fall into a pit of laughter, him tilting his head up and moving his arm away from his chest, your head tilted downwards as you laugh, however you don’t let go of his arm while your laughing, and he doesn’t move his arm from your grasp or the chair. you move your hand to cover you face as you laugh.
you tilt your head back about to laugh and laiys tilts his head forward about to carry on laughing. however right before that your heads collide. making both of your hands move to grab your guys head. you both can’t stop laughing now, in both joy and pain.
jason is just watching clearly amused yet also pissed. “right both of yall, get up and get out of my room” he says looking between yall.
chat has been going crazy oblivious to you and laiys.
STOPP IM CRYING😭😭
NOT THE HEAD BUMP I KNOW THAT HURTTT
wait i can lowkey see them tg👀
WE love this duo
NEED more of them together ASAP
okay but anyone else notice the hand placement👀 i’d CRYY
you both go to leave the room still smiling with slight giggles coming out. laiys started backing up so you can get out of your seat, but due to your laughing fit and you legs being in such weird placement, you fall slightly, jerking towards laiys.
he catches both your arms as you slowly collide to the floor, back twisting so you fall on your back, one foot tangled on the seat of the chair, the other just on the floor.
and right before you can truly process anything that happened. your face filled with visible confusion the room just erupts. laiys is fully bending over laughing now trying to help you get up while jason starts laughing body facing the camera.
chat is going berserk, spamming the minion laughing gif as well as the odd few comments talking about laiys and you.
as you get back on your feet, curtesy of laiys, you both seem to be facing each other now, his hands still holding onto your arms which are right beside your face. your expression is clearly embarrassed, and your thankful that your not facing chat.
laiys is just looking at you with a certain glimmer in his eye, which you’ve never seemed to notice till now. his mouth curved into a soft smile.
jason finally stops laughing, and looks towards you two, coughing almost to sign that him and chat are still here.
you both look at him, laiys putting only one of your arms down. you place your now free hand to hide your slightly pink embarrassed face.
you just laugh and lightly apologise to jason while tapping his shoulder after moving your hand away from you face. you feel laiys slowly out your arm down right before you turn you backs to jason and say bye.
you walk right beside each other, body’s touching while you try create light talk while still laughing between each other.
jason just laughs and rolls his eyes showing a slight annoyance while he goes back to chat whose still exploding up about what happened.
“stupid ahh lovebirds messing up my stream” jason says while smacking him mouth together in an annoyed sound. right before he changes the topic to a clip of him that gets him all rowled up.
the door slowly clicks shut.
NOTE : i don’t know how to feel about this i was trying to write more on this story as there isn’t any one on one time with laiys but i didn’t know where to really go with it.. maybe i’ll do a part 2 if any of yall have ideas?? and if you guys even like it!!
ALSO! i am trying to write an anime’s to lovers fic for laiys.. i don't know when it’ll come out, hopefully before august 1st as ill be on holiday and wont be able to look at it until the 9th!!
