sex with bkg is 30 mins to 1 hr of pussy eating turning to pussy eating and fingering -> making out while he grinds his palm against your cunt while you come all wet and sticky against him -> soft and slow missionary with intense eye contact and a lot of very dirty grinding -> rinse and repeat
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: roy calls you at 2 am, apparently jason is drunk and needs you
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 1.1k words, none, fluff, CRACK, sort of part 2 for this, roy is there too, 1 sexual comment, not edited just proof-read 🚬
<𝟑: art creds to @quezartt
You’re currently wearing one of Jason’s Gotham U hoodies (you suspect it’s not actually Jason’s) that reaches down to your legs, along with your winter boots. Aside from that, you’re wearing your pyjamas and nothing else.
You’re absolutely freezing your ass off, and by the time you barge into the club Roy sent you the address to, you swear you’re on the verge of hypothermia.
You would’ve told him to fuck off because it’s literally two a.m. But he called with Jason’s phone, and told you to come right now.
You need to come. It’s Jason.
Your heart absolutely stopped for a second. What? You can’t even hear your own voice.
He laughs. Nothing serious. He’s just worried you’re hungry.
Huh? Your voice is still raspy from sleep.
Just come.
So now you’re here, climbing the stairs to the VIP lounge. And it’s just your luck that someone is guarding the door.
He scans you up and down, then shuffles a bit closer to block the entrance.
"Hi, um, my friends are inside waiting for me."
He raises a brow. "Sure.”
"Yeah," you insist. "Roy and Jason—"
His face falls. "You’re Jason’s girl?"
"Sorry?" You blink twice. "What do you mean—"
But you’re interrupted for a second time. You frown and check your phone again, to see if there are any missed calls. There’s not.
The man turns around and taps his earpiece. A moment later, he spins back to you, smiling brightly. "You can absolutely come in." He opens the door for you. "Jason’s girl."
You mumble a thanks, still very weirded out by the whole experience.
The second you step inside, all eyes snap to you. Granted, there are only five other people besides Roy and Jason, but it’s still very weird for everyone to be tracking your movements and whispering to each other.
You ignore the stares and make your way to the boys’ table in the corner of the room. Just where Jay would’ve chosen it— away from any potential threats.
"Roy! Jason!" you call.
Jason is rambling to Roy, waving his hands around and smiling brightly. But the second he hears you, his whole body freezes. Even his hands stop mid-gesture. His pretty green eyes immediately start scanning the room until they land on you.
And then he waddles. He waddles toward you. His movements are clumsy as he tries to grab you, nearly walking straight into a decorative plant.
"Baby!"
You catch him just as he’s about to collapse on top of you. Struggling to support his weight, you try to steady him.
He lets you. Then he picks you up.
He kisses you on the nose, and all you can do is blink in confusion before he throws you over his shoulder.
"Jason?" you whisper-yell. "Put me down right now."
"Nuh-uh." He sounds smug. "Can’t."
The world flips again as he plops you down beside him on the velvet couch. Now you’re sandwiched between the two of them.
You look at Roy, raising a brow. "What did you even give him?"
He smirks, raising his hands innocently. "He said he could handle it."
Jason is playing with your hair. He tugs on a strand before curling it around his index finger.
"Why is everyone looking at us?"
Roy laughs, bright and loud. "Jason couldn’t stop telling everyone about you. The cocktail guy, the—"
"Bouncer?"
He snaps his fingers. "Yeah." Roy grins. "You know, I thought he'd eventually run out of facts."
You blink. "Facts?"
"Oh, yeah." He starts counting on his fingers. "You brush your teeth for ten minutes— you’re a psycho for that, by the way. You like your toast overly done. You cry at movies, even if they’re not sad. He’s dissected the meaning of all of your favourite songs...”
You’re too dumbfounded to properly answer. Roy continues.
"You apparently have the prettiest smile in the tri-state area."
Jason nods solemnly. "It's true."
Roy whistles. "He's got it bad."
Jason is still playing with your hair. "You’re so pretty."
You turn to him with a smile, brushing his cheek softly. He immediately nuzzles into your touch. "Not as much as you."
He shakes his head. "No, no. You’re ridiculously pretty. Sometimes"— he drops his voice, as if you’re sharing some great secret—"when you smile, I forget how to think. Or when you do anything, really."
He wraps an arm around your waist until there isn’t even an inch of space between you. You can feel every line of his body, the hard muscle beneath his clothes. "My pretty, pretty girl."
You place a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you, Jay."
"And you also make me really hard."
Roy’s laughter is impossible to ignore. He slams a hand on the table, wheezing as he mumbles something between fits of laughter. You see him fumble for his phone out of the corner of your eye.
"Yesterday, for example, when you—"
"Jason," you say sternly.
His face falls. "Don’t be mad at me." He’s frowning now, his big green eyes glossy and wide.
You cup his face. "I’m not angry, baby."
"Oh, okay." He nods slowly. "I’m sorry I told Roy you snore."
"I do not—"
Roy nudges your shoulder. "According to Jason, you do."
Jason nods matter-of-factly. "When I can’t sleep, I listen to you breathe. So yeah. You snore."
Your heart pounds in your chest, steady and hard. You want to kiss him. Not just his lips. Everywhere.
Because who decided kisses on the lips were the most intimate? You’d kiss every scar, every freckle, every crook of his beautiful body. You want to worship him with kisses.
"And you make me soup," Jason continues, completely oblivious to the look of pure love on your face.
Roy blinks. "Okay?"
Jason sighs dramatically. "Not canned soup. Actual homemade soup she spends time and effort making."
"Congratulations.”
He rolls his eyes. "You don’t get it." Then his eyes find yours, unwavering. "But you do. You get me, and you love me."
"Of course I do, Jay.” You smile softly.
Jason smiles before resting his head in the crook of your neck. His eyes flutter shut as you run your fingers through his hair. "You’re my definition of an angel."
The next morning, Jason wakes up with a killer hangover and his entire body wrapped around you.
Then he bumps into Roy in the kitchen. He dies of embarrassment the second Roy holds up his phone to show him something.
The video shows nothing but the club ceiling, dim lighting, and red velvet. The audio, however, is crystal clear.
What if she’s hungry?
Jason physically cringes at the sound of his own whiny, worried voice. He’s never drinking again. Roy is barely holding in his laughter, the phone slightly shaking.
She’s an adult, man.
She forgets to eat. There’s a frustrated grumble. I can’t unlock my phone. Stupid numbers. A brief shuffle. The password is her birthday. You call her.
Jason wants to crawl into the Lazaurs Pit and disappear.
゛★ nerd bf ! satoru gojo is a really good motivator.
drabble .ᐟ ⋆ bf satoru ⋆ uni au ⋆ bimbo!reader ⋆ tutor!gojo ⋆ dryhumping ⋆ praise + condescension ⋆ punishment and reward ⋆ nsfw 18+
god, your boyfriend can be so evil.
you squirm restlessly on satoru’s lap in your cramped dorm bed, the chemistry textbook sprawled open beside you like it’s mocking your lack of focus.
his tall frame leans back against the headboard, long legs spread so you can straddle him perfectly. that crisp button-up shirt is undone halfway down his chest showing off a glimpse of his abs, tie hanging loose around his neck, messy white hair falling into his glasses in that stupidly hot way that always makes your pussy throb. he’s ridiculously hot—sharp jaw, those blue eyes, lean muscle under the fabric from whatever workouts he does.
“pay attention, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and cocky as his large hands grip your hips under your cheer skirt, fingers digging into your soft and warm flesh. “test is in two days and you’re too busy being a needy little bimbo to memorize this stuff. sit still and learn.”
you whine, already grinding down against the thick bulge straining his slacks. “toru, it’s so fucking boring. valence electrons? who cares when your dick’s right here?”
he chuckles so arrogantly it makes you want to slap him. “i care, princess. and so should you if you wanna keep cheering on the field instead of being in summer school.” one hand slides up to squeeze your tit through your tight top, thumb flicking your hard nipple. “question seven. electron configuration for carbon. get it right and i’ll let you hump me like the horny girl you are.”
your brain fogs from the heat pooling between your thighs but you manage, “1s2 2s2 2p2?”
“atta girl,” satoru praises, eyes gleaming behind his glasses. he loosens his hold and guides your hips in a slow, filthy grind. your soaked panties drag right over his clothed cock, the friction making your clit swell and ache. you moan loud, rolling your hips faster, feeling every inch of his hard length twitch beneath you. slick coats your inner thighs as you soak through the fabric.
but the next one trips you up. molecular orbitals or some bullshit. you answer wrong and his grip turns iron, pinning your hips down hard so you can’t move at all even if you tried to. his cock throbs hot and heavy right against your dripping cunt, but zero relief. you whimper pathetically, trying to wiggle, but he’s too strong.
“wrong, baby,” he teases, voice dripping smug satisfaction like he just loves torturing you. “no grinding till you get it right. feel that? my dick’s right there, all hard for you, and you’re gonna sit pretty and think.” he rocks up once, just enough to make you gasp, then stills again. “come on, princess, use that empty little head.”
it takes you two tries, voice all breathy and desperate, before you spit out the right answer. the second it leaves your lips he rewards you, yanking you down to rut hard against him. “fuck yes. that’s my smart girl. feel how wet you are? dripping all over my pants like a slut for study time. knew i could make you into a nerd.”
you brace your hands on his chest, nails digging in as you ride the bulge shamelessly. your skirt’s hiked up, panties shoved aside now so your bare pussy lips slide along his zipper, clit catching on the ridge with every roll. satoru’s breathing gets heavier because after all, he is human and you are humping the hell out of dick. messy hair sticks to his forehead, but he keeps that teasing control—explaining concepts in that smooth, know-it-all tone while you hump him like a bitch in heat—hardly even paying attention to what he’s saying.
wrong answers are torture. he’d clamp those long fingers bruisingly on your hips, holding you motionless while his cock pulses teasingly against your entrance through his clothes. “nope. try again, princess. you wanna cum on me? you gotta earn it.” you’d squirm and beg, pussy clenching around nothing, until the right answer tumbled out and he’d let you grind frantically, slick sounds filling the room.
“last one,” he breaths out after what feels like hours, shirt fully open now, tie tossed aside entirely, glasses fogged slightly. his hands roam your ass, spreading your cheeks as you rock on him. “nail this and i’ll make you cum so good you’ll thank me for nailing you and the curriculum.”
you get it right—barely—and he flips you onto your back in a flash. your legs spread wide as he shoves your skirt up and yanks your panties off completely. two thick fingers plunge into your soaked hole immediately, curling hard against that spot that makes you arch and moan. “so wet, aren’t you baby? must be all the chemistry, huh?” he teases, shit-eating smirk on his lips.
satoru hovers over you, pretty face flushed, pumping his fingers deep while his thumb circles your swollen clit. “see? told you i could motivate you. now cum for me, my smart girl. then i’ll give you what you really want. promise.”
your chemistry notes scatter to the floor as you cum around his fingers, thighs shaking. satoru—your hot, cocky and incredibly smart boyfriend—grins down at you the whole time, already reaching for his belt.
god knows you’d ace every test if it meant you could have more of this.
ancient greek god katsuki who's worshipped both in fear and awe. people offer their respect in hopes of appeasing him and have his protection.
ancient greek god katsuki who’s temples are built into cliffs and volcanic stone, always warm to the touch and harsh breezes passing through.
ancient greek god katsuki who hates offerings of gold and luxury, preferring acts of bravery, blood, and devotion earned through actions.
ancient greek god katsuki who demands strength from his priests and priestesses, choosing only those who refuse to bow easily and meet his gaze without fear.
ancient greek god katsuki who secretly favors you above all others, though he disguises it with dismissive comments and rude commands.
ancient greek god katsuki who is unaccustomed to restraint, yet never touches you at first. circling you like a storm held back, curious how long you will endure him.
ancient greek god katsuki who watches you take care of the temple, silently judging every movement, yet intervenes the moment you are alone.
ancient greek god katsuki who starts appearing more often, always under the excuse that his temple is being “neglected,” even though it has never been more pristine.
ancient greek god katsuki who tests you constantly, flickering flames too close to your robes, rumbling the ground beneath your feet, just to see if you will break.
ancient greek god katsuki who speaks to you through bursts of heat and sparks at first, until one night he manifests fully just to argue with you face-to-face.
ancient greek god katsuki who denies being attached to any mortal, yet refuses to let another priestess take care of his temple and statue.
ancient greek god katsuki who burns offerings to ash instantly, except yours, which he lets linger, savoring the act like it means something more.
ancient greek god katsuki who teaches you how to fight, guiding your hands, his presence overwhelming and close enough to feel your clothes almost burning under his touch.
ancient greek god katsuki who would never call it love, but reshapes fate itself to keep you by his side forever.
katsuki and his mother hen tendencies on the low. he hand-feeds you fruit he cuts up himself, grumbling something about how he's "gotta get some fuckin' nutrients in you somehow," and he wipes your makeup off at the end of the day while you sit there scrolling on your phone because otherwise "you're gonna pass out like a dumbass and wake up bitchin' about your skin breakin' out," and he applies sunscreen for you in the mornings while you stand there and let him, muttering under his breath about how "you've got the survival instincts of a fuckin' rock—uv damage isn't a joke." he always acts like you're a handful for making him take care of you but as soon as you try to do anything yourself, he low key gets sulky that you don't need him
Katsuki goes to your bathroom to shower after his first night over and he stands there and sifts through every one of your makeup and skincare products and takes note of what you’re running low on so he can stock them up again next time he comes back
katsuki being a great cook, standing in the kitchen with his grey sweatpants hanging low enough to expose his three small explosion tattoos on his right hip bone. "c'mere and eat,"he says, placing you a hearty dinner and packs your lunches for work, even getting up with you in the morning so he can make you breakfast.
it's always something new he wants to try. something he sees while he was scrolling on his phone, something you've sent to him from pinterest or something his friends recommended him and sometimes a really good dish he found from one of your date nights.
he's sort of a health freak so he always try to make something healthy and tasty at the same time which he'll never admit, but has fun doing. he loves going to the farmer's market with you assessing which ingredients buy and trying out sauces. he loves it when you give him real criticism, "that's how i'll get better angel face."
the only times he's too lazy to cook is when he's out for late night patrols or when he has to get up way too early, he hates heated up food and prefers to just get something from the gym cafe on his way back.
he has a new found love for baking these days, people underestimate it, but it takes focus and precision and a certain type of intelligence for someone to be actually good at it, "just like my job," he points out.
katsuki being a great cook, standing in the kitchen with his grey sweatpants hanging low enough to expose his three small explosion tattoos on his right hip bone. "c'mere and eat,"he says, placing you a hearty dinner and packs your lunches for work, even getting up with you in the morning so he can make you breakfast.
it's always something new he wants to try. something he sees while he was scrolling on his phone, something you've sent to him from pinterest or something his friends recommended him and sometimes a really good dish he found from one of your date nights.
he's sort of a health freak so he always try to make something healthy and tasty at the same time which he'll never admit, but has fun doing. he loves going to the farmer's market with you assessing which ingredients buy and trying out sauces. he loves it when you give him real criticism, "that's how i'll get better angel face."
the only times he's too lazy to cook is when he's out for late night patrols or when he has to get up way too early, he hates heated up food and prefers to just get something from the gym cafe on his way back.
he has a new found love for baking these days, people underestimate it, but it takes focus and precision and a certain type of intelligence for someone to be actually good at it, "just like my job," he points out.
katsuki is the type of man to share a vocabulary w his grl.
like if he's in a relationship the lines between where he starts n where his grl ends eventually blurs and he subconsciously picks up sm little things.
certain spelling choices in texts, knee-jerk reactions, physical tics—he's hving lunch w kirishima n shitty hair said something so mindbogglingly stupid katsuki looks him dead in the eyes n says, “Girl.”
n kirishima knows exactly where that came from bc he's received that exact same reaction when he talks to u when he's over at katsuki's.
love the idea that katsuki gets progressively sassier as the yrs in the relationship goes by n no one questions it anymore when he does/says something so unmistakably u bc atp ur extensions of e/o n he loves that shit—even if it sometimes slips around ppl outside his inner circle n he turns red asf.
featuring... villain attacks and hospital visits. (+ realizations)
★ series summary: your landlord kind of fucked you over, so you end up stuck with two rising pro heroes as your roommates for the rest of the year.
(OR — chronicles of living together!)
content: roommate!au. smau. kiribaku x reader (developing!). fluff, crack. some suggestiveness. college student!reader. UA grad!krbk. warning: bit of a long post! - click keep reading.
note: using this space for extra warnings — beware of: blood, injuries, hospitalization. angsty im ngl but everyone's okay dw
★ IMPORTANT — this chapter includes written sections.
word count: 3.2k (holy. that’s my bad)
<- PREV. PART | SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
You couldn't remember how you got here.
Cheek pressed into the scratchy library carpet, smoke and debris scraping down your lungs with each heaving breath.
A small groan slipped out of you, the sound muffled against the floor as you tried to move your shaky arms to support yourself.
You couldn’t make out where the dull throbbing ended, where you began.
Your eyes blinked in and out of focus as you took in the area around you; the once pristine, well-kept library was an absolute disaster. Shelves broken or toppled over, books scattered all across the floor, personal belongings abandoned or knocked over.
Your heart picked up.
Get up. You had to get up.
There was a fucking villain on campus— the one with that stupid costume. You really shouldn’t have insulted him earlier, you thought bitterly, fighting a dry scoff. Maybe this was your karma.
Eijirou, Bakugou— they’d be here soon, they promised you, right?
You winced, head ringing as you tried to recall exactly what had happened. Every part of you ached, memory came to you all muddled and blurred.
They told you to hide. Put your airpods in. Eijirou said he’d call. And then…
The villain?
No… no, it wasn’t the villain.
It was everyone trying to escape.
The second the villain had started his ascent up the library stairs, the booming thud of those ugly neon green boots of his echoing off the stairwell walls, the entire floor had broken out into a panic.
Everyone had trampled over one another to try and get away, desperately clawing over to the emergency exit, uncaring about each other when their survival was all that mattered.
You got unlucky, it seemed. Really fucking unlucky.
Amidst the chaos, you had gotten left behind.
Then, it was the villain.
Whatever his stupid quirk was, it was enough to rampage through the entire building, knock out anyone who got in his way.
You were in his way, you supposed.
With a sigh, you looked down, nails digging into the carpet to keep yourself upright. Your eyes widened at the small pool of deep red right where you had been laying.
You brought a shaky hand up to touch your forehead, feeling the heat of your own blood greet your fingertips.
Fuck.
That couldn't be good.
If you had the energy, you would've dragged a hand down your face. What did that idiot even want?
All you wanted was to pass some time before your next class. Look over the slides you'd be going over today, maybe send Eijirou a few TikToks you knew he'd find funny, bother Bakugou with random, stupid texts just because you knew it made his face twist and scrunch up in annoyance.
It wasn't supposed to go like this, this wasn't supposed to happen.
You felt tired. Really, really tired.
It was getting harder to keep your eyes open.
You wanted to lean into it, let the soft promise of sleep hold you gently. Take away the nagging pain pulsing throughout your body.
The edges of your vision were growing fuzzy.
Where’s your phone?
The thought snapped you back into the present, tethered you to reality.
Eijirou's call— You couldn't remember if you ever picked up.
He'd be worried, wouldn't he? Probably. He had a tendency to blame himself for things sometimes, you wanted to make sure he didn't.
You glanced around looking for it, vision swimming, the colors around you all bleeding into each other. Your body was moving on its own accord, it felt like you were watching found footage from a horror film through your very own eyes; so unfocused, out of your control.
When you finally caught sight of your phone a little to your left, your heavy eyes tracing over it, chest squeezing when you realized— the screen, it broke.
You must have dropped it, more than a few people had probably stepped over it. You wanted to be angry, annoyed, even. But all you felt overwhelmingly upset.
Upset that this was yet another thing piled onto the list of shitty things that had happened today.
But… you knew objectively that it wasn't horrible. Phones could be fixed, and you could still vaguely make out the characters from Eijirou’s contact name through the cracked glass. That was good, at least.
It looked like he was on the line, seemed like he had been for a while. You couldn’t focus enough to make out the call time.
You reached out for it, held your phone up to your ear as you laid back down, too tired to move anymore.
His voice was familiar, grounding, safe.
You let the warmth of it settle inside your chest, ease you out of that sad feeling twisting up inside you. It brought about this sweet buzz behind your ribs, even though he sounded so frantic.
You felt bad.
He was saying your name over and over, telling you in that same reassuring tone that he always used when you got to stressed or too worried that it’s gonna be okay.
That he’s there.
He's coming.
Panic was bleeding into his voice.
You wanted to tell him not to worry.
You didn't know how much you believed him, but you wanted to tell him that you did anyway to put his heart at ease.
The corners of your eyes pricked. He was always so cheery, so upbeat and contagiously hearty in a way that it felt like a stab in the chest when he was anything but.
You wanted to reassure him, because you never wanted him to be sad, especially not because of you.
You couldn't remember if you ever got around to even saying his name before your vision tunneled into black.
⋆ ⭒˚.⋆
The only thing on Eijirou's mind as he burst onto the scene was the sound of your scream on the other end of the line.
Just thinking about it made his heart ache.
One second, he had been making the call, bouncing his leg anxiously as he waited for you to pick up. The next, you had answered, he let himself dip a toe into relief, but instead of silence or your quiet whispered words, all he heard was chaos.
Screams overlapping screams, crashes and shouting, desperate curses. But amidst it all, you. He knew your voice, knew it was you making that heart-wrenching sound the second he heard that shrill cry crackle through his phone speaker.
It was you— terrified, hurting.
He never thought he'd hear you sound so scared.
He couldn't help the stream of reassurances that left his mouth the entire ride there. He didn't even know if you were there to hear him, all he knew was his own desperation masked with those frantic, comforting words. Some part of him wishing his voice could be enough keep you alive and safe.
The thought had crossed his mind sometimes.
It was his job to deal with the worst of the world on the daily, stand on the front lines against senseless crime and violence, swearing to protect others with your life; he knew better than anyone how quickly someone caught up in danger.
Still, no one ever expected it to be someone they cared about— not even heroes.
When he finally got up to the second floor, the background noise faded out. The shuffle of his team, the orders being rattled off to everyone through his earpiece.
All he could hear was the slowed thrum of his own heart beating in his ears as his eyes locked on your familiar outline crumpled on the floor by a bookshelf.
He ran over, not caring if it went against his orders for the mission. He crouched over your body, mouth running dry at the sight of blood trickling down your temple, your phone tucked by your ear.
Reaching out, he held your face in his palms, the stillness of your expression frightened him. It didn't feel real.
Why you?
(He should've been faster, he would’ve been able to save you.)
He brushed back some of your hair, checked to see if you were still breathing. His heart calmed just a fraction when he found that you were. It was shallow, barely perceptible, but you were breathing. You were alive. That was enough for now, it meant there was a chance.
He picked you up without another thought, determined to get you out of the battle zone, strong arms curling around your shoulders and the backs of your thighs, holding your limp body like it was made of glass.
"Katsuki," He started, voice shaky but loud enough for his ear piece to detect his voice and turn on. "I found her."
His friend's voice came in with a grunt.
"She good?"
Eijirou's throat tightened. He wasn't sure if he could even get the word out without sounding pathetic.
"No."
Katsuki stayed quiet for a few beats.
Then the sound of a gruff, angry sort of sigh filled his ears.
Eijirou could hear the scowl on his face. Katsuki never messed around when it came to the people he cared about, no matter how much he acted like a hard ass to their face.
He remembered your first month together, how convinced you were that Katsuki had genuinely hated your guts. Maybe he had found you annoying at first, Katsuki was never really a 'people person'. But you grew to matter to him more than you thought, that much was always apparent to him.
Eijirou was his best friend, after all. He knew the guy like the back of his hand.
"Get her to support, Ei." Katsuki bit out roughly; voice backed by a low, simmering anger. "We'll beat this guy's ass into the fucking ground."
His jaw tensed, something inexplicable and red-hot coursed through his veins at just the thought of that shitty excuse of a man. He had done this, hurt you and left you bloody, unconscious.
He could hear him clamoring upstairs, along the screams of more innocent civilians falling victim to that careless piece of shit. The rumble of an explosion rattled off the walls, drowning out the sounds of everyone else; Katsuki was definitely on scene now.
Eijirou moved quickly down the flight of stairs with no more time to waste, hurrying to get you over to help.
"I'm sorry," was all he could manage, sparing a glance down at your face. You looked peaceful, pretty— even with the blood on your face and the small cut over your cheekbone. The thought crossed his mind against his will, he shook himself out of it.
Focus.
"I've got you now." He said out loud, unsure if you could even make out any sounds. "I gotta leave to take care of the villain, We'll make sure he regrets what he did today." He spat out that last part, the bitterness evident in his voice.
"I'll be back, alright? I promise you, I'll be back."
A silent part of him ached for you to promise him back, promise him that you'd be okay. He didn't let himself dwell on it, even as his chest squeezed. No time to let his regret to consume him. He would get you to safety, make sure you got into the right hands. Then…
He had a villain to deal with.
⋆ ⭒˚.⋆
It had been a day since you were hospitalized.
Eijirou had been silent. Oddly so. He cracked a few half-hearted jokes every now and then, but he moved like something heavy was sitting on his shoulders.
It was strange to Katsuki, to not have the space between them filled with his nonsense.
The two of them had fought side by side for so long, since the very first of their days back at U.A., but something about that fight at the library was different.
He had seen Eijirou get worked up before, he was driven by justice and an unwavering drive to protect others, Katsuki knew that. But that day… it was something else. The way he fought, the hard set of his eyes, the quiet, disgusted look he gave the villain as soon as he was apprehended.
Katsuki pretended that he didn't hear it, but he had listened to sound of his poorly muffled, bitten back sobs when they got home that night, let it bleed through the wall between their rooms as he laid down back in his bed to try and catch some sleep before morning came.
(He would've been annoyed, but it wasn't like he could sleep, anyway. He spent the night staring up at his ceiling, nails digging into his palms as he quietly clenched his fist by his side, hating the uncertainty that stormed inside him.)
When they got up the next day, ready to head over to the hospital to visit you, it became more apparent. There was something tense hanging over him, something sharp and weighted, just waiting to blow over. The idiot wore his heart on his sleeve, his feelings all over his face. Katsuki could never really take seeing Eijirou like that, expression all sunken and clouded over, and he could never exactly name why.
Probably because it was a shitty look on him.
He glanced at Eijirou through the corner of his eye, heavy arms folded over his chest as they both sat on the hospital bench just outside of your room. They could go in, the doctors had given them the clear the second they got here, told them you had been asking about them non-stop since waking up. But Eijirou had hesitated, stared at the handle of the door with wet eyes like it might kill him if he touched it.
So, they sat down because he needed a second— that was his half-hearted excuse. Katsuki wanted to scoff, but he bit it back, chose to just sit down next to him with a small grunt.
He didn't even get around to doing his hair this morning, even though his little routine barely took a minute. The mess of red fell over his downcast eyes as he crouched over, elbows propped on his knees, each hand busy toying with the other as he stared down at the floor.
His gaze was faraway, swimming with too much for Katsuki to even begin to make out. His lower lip twitched every few seconds, like he was actively fighting the urge to cry.
Yeah. Definitely a shitty look.
Katsuki let out a disgruntled huff.
"You gonna sit around moping all day or you gonna spit it out?"
"Huh?"
Eijirou sat up just enough, tired eyes meeting his. Katsuki searched them for a beat before finally snapping his gaze to the wall up ahead; fixated on the texture, the color — whatever — because meeting those sad eyes felt unbearable for some reason.
"Just talk, you idiot." he grumbled, as if he was annoyed at the notion of asking. Eijirou knew better, though, and Katsuki trusted that he'd pick it up: this was him being worried.
With a shaky breath in and a heavy exhale, he finally started talking.
"Somethin' about yesterday felt different." He began, a hand coming to scratch the back of his head, "We've fought villains for so long, seen so many people get hurt. Saved plenty more, too. It's just the job, right?" He tried to chuckle, just to lighten the mood. Nothing about pro-hero work was really funny.
When he paused for a little too long, Katsuki egged him to continue with one clipped word. "Right."
Eijirou managed a sigh.
"Right, yeah… but… but this? Seein' her like…" his voice got all caught up in his throat, like he was choking on his words before they could even make it out. "like that?"
He shook his head, hand coming over his chest, fingers ghosting over his sternum. Katsuki knew the feeling, knew exactly what he was talking about. Like something inside him might implode. It was jarring, even to him, to face the what ifs in that kind of situation.
(The what if of you being ripped from their lives just like that, gone in an instant before they could even process what had happened.)
"Don't think I've felt that way since Kamino…" Katsuki's jaw clenched. Eijirou continued, sniffling slightly. "…or the war. I was so scared, man. I… I really care 'bout her. I think… more than I let myself realize, y'know?"
He leaned his back against the wall, craning his neck up to stare at the ceiling mindlessly.
"I think I like her, Kats.” He mumbled.
Katsuki's eyes flickered over to him at that.
He wasn't stupid. He had seen the way you leaned into each other, the way the two of you laughed, flirted fucking horribly and obliviously with each other.
Still, he could never be sure. He couldn't care to know more, that was what he told himself.
Eijirou was always better versed in this mushy shit than he was anyway.
He didn't know why he scoffed. "You think?"
"What?" Eijirou's eyes blinked over to his, brows furrowed softly with genuine confusion. Katsuki only rolled his eyes, lip curling back into a small sneer.
"Either y'like her or you don't, that's how that bullshit works, right? Hell do you mean you think?"
"No! I don't think, I know it man! I do!"
Katsuki blinked back at him. That sudden earnestness was so typical, so Eijirou.
His heart pinched.
He looked away, fixing his gaze on the wall again, as if that disgusting, clinical shade of white was worth staring at. "Go see her." He said it was quiet, low and under his breath. This was his kind of soft. Intentional, a little hesitant. "Talk, or whatever. It'll fix your fucking face."
It wasn't the nice, sweet sort of encouragement it probably should've been. But Katsuki had never been good at that. He knew what Eijirou needed to hear most, anyway: "Tell her."
It was all he said before standing up, the action urging Eijirou to do the same. His mouth opened as if to refute what Katsuki had just said, but one narrowed look from him had it snapping back shut. He nodded, taking in a deep breath. "Yeah… yeah, you're right. I'll go in."
He turned on his heel, took careful steps until he was in front of your door. He spared Katsuki one last glance before he turned the handle, that determined glint finally back in his eyes. His thank you was wordless as he stepped into your hospital room, shutting the door softly behind him.
It was his doing, his back-handed encouragement that had pushed Eijirou to walk in there. He told him to tell you— tell you what? Would he confess? Sit there and just talk?
Something like a heavy pit formed in his chest at the thought.
(Why did it feel like part of him was sinking, being dragged down to depths he didn't dare venture into?)
With a scoff, he forced his mind away from that nonsense.
He shoved a hand into his pocket. Pulled out his phone to look up mobile stores nearby— your dumbass phone was broken.
He had the time, he'd get you a new one.
<- PREV. PART | NEXT PART ->
may blabs: hi guys it’s been forever im really sorry 💔 evil summer bringing me back home 😒 i miss my dorm………
but yeah bakugou in the trenches w this one 😂😂😂
“what to do if you have repressed feelings for your roommate but also your best friend and they both get together reddit” <- bkg search history leaked
free him
(am i doing too much for a fuck ass smau series....?? shi prolly but um i did it anyway !!! don't slime me out ok.. also lowk did not proofread or have this beta read so GULP i am sorry for any mistakes or if its chuddy 💔)
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