hilson obsessed to the point I can't even listen to music without thinking of them now. Careless Whisper just came on and I can't stop thinking about "I'm never gonna dance again" and House's leg. "now who's gonna dance with me" Wilson. Wilson will. "please stay" he will. he will.
Please, part three of perv Katsuki, but with Reader being pervy too…..
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5
Katsuki who has no clue you’re just like him. He has no clue that you’re well aware that he stares at you. And maybe you do a little extra just for him. You have other variants of your hero costume, ones that cover more skin. But you wear the more exposed ones just for him.
Katsuki who is completely unaware that you’re purposefully ignoring the time when he’s over. You LOVE when he stays the night, sure you know he lives pretty close by but he never seems to fight you much on it. And it fuels your “delusions” (even if you know it’s not actually delusional.) You like cuddling up to him and rubbing your ass on his crotch. Feining innocence when he gets up and runs to the washroom. (Oops?)
Katsuki who doesn’t know you’ve noticed his boners. But oh boy you’ve noticed. You love seeing the effect you have on him. Love it when he’s wearing those grey sweats that leave little to the imagination. You’ve even purposefully cuddled up right onto him once. Grinding yourself onto him. Yeah, you’ve got a thing for it. But of course it’s all innocent fun.
Katsuki who can’t keep his mind out of the gutter when you dress like that. And of course you’re doing it for him. Wearing those tops that cover nothing. Watching his reaction, getting off on the fact he’s turned on.
Katsuki who doesn’t know that you're a thief. Whenever you’re at his place you like to steal a little souvenir. A little something for later. Whether it be his old cologne or a piece of clothing, dirty or clean. You just cannot help yourself.
Katsuki who doesn’t know that you’re constantly on social media watching thirst traps of him. Not even bothering to use a second account. No you’re fine with being “horny on main” when his fans catch you in their likes and comments. You seem to have zero shame, reposting the clips without a care in the world.
Katsuki who doesn’t know you make him jealous on purpose. His reactions just get you all hot and bothered, it’s addicting. So of course you’re gonna ask Hitoshi to do some photoshoot with you just to get a reaction out of Katsuki.
Katsuki who has no clue that you’ve also got a whole album of pictures dedicated to him. That you love to look through it when you’re alone at night. You’ve actually got two. One for more innocent pictures and a second one for pictures you don’t want to share with anyone. Pictures from private moments between the two of you, when you’re both lying on your couch, touching each other in ways friends shouldn’t. So imagine Katsuki’s surprise when he stumbles upon a copy of one of those pictures buried in your bedside table…
Your fingers froze, hovering over the keyboard of your laptop. You feel your eyes burn as you snapped your gaze towards the door, only realizing now how dark the room had gotten. You blinked a few times before sighing, a headache already building.
“Babe, no,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes.
“Babe, yes,” Osamu answered in a deadpan tone through the other side. “Now open the door already before I ask your landlord for the spare key again.”
That made you stand up immediately, ungracefully sidestepping stacks of papers you left on the floor, before reaching the doorknob.
“Samu, you better not!” you hissed as you opened the door.
Standing tall with a plastic bag in hand was Osamu Miya, your very annoying boyfriend.
He looked you up and down then frowned. He moved his arm, feeling at the wall near your doorway and flicked on the lights. You winced, eyes squinting.
Osamu smiled softly at the sight of you. “You look like shit,” were the words he delivered oh-so affectionately.
“Oh wow, thanks,” you replied with much sarcasm.
You turned and walked back to your seat, leaving the door open so he’d let himself in. You slumped back and let out another sigh, willing yourself not to relax just yet, no matter how tempting it is now that he’s here.
“I texted you three times, babe. Three,” Osamu said, closing the door behind him. He dropped the plastic bag next to your books, making sure it was within your sight. “I was starting to think you were abducted or dead or something, but nope. Just you and your never-ending love affair with...”
He leaned forward behind your shoulder, squinting as he read the file opened on your screen. “...The ethics of automation?”
“It’s my thesis,” you said, already beginning to type again. “The one that’s due in two days. So, I need to finish this as soon as I can.”
Osamu nodded but he didn’t move away. Instead he turned to look at you.
“Okay. How long have you been working on it?”
You didn’t answer, already knowing he’d scold you if he knew you’d been in this chair since morning.
But he didn’t give up.
“Did you take breaks?” Silence.
“Did you eat lunch?” Silence.
“Did you even pee?” And this time he poked your cheek to which you slapped away, but said nothing.
He let out an exaggerated sigh, ruffling your already messy hair in hopes to annoy you further. He lets his hand linger there and you hate how you automatically leaned your head back to it.
“Babe,” he started. “Ignoring me won’t make me leave faster. I hate to break it to you, but I’m immune to that shit. I grew up with Tsumu—this is child’s play for me.”
You failed to keep in the small snort at the mention of his twin brother, lightening up a little, but still not enough to call it quits.
“So stubborn,” he commented with a chuckle.
His hand slid down from your hair to your shoulder, the other coming up on the opposite end. He gave it a soft squeeze first before he started to knead.
Your breath hitched and you immediately melted against his hands. “Samu...” you attempted to protest, but it sounded more pleased than anything.
“I brought onigiri,” he whispered, pressing a kiss at the top of your head. “There’s some karaage too. All made by yours truly.”
You stared at the plastic bag, already imagining the warmth of the meal and the familiar taste of his cooking. Your stomach growled as you only now realized how hungry you are.
“Babe, I—this is sweet, really,” you said, tilting your head back to look at him. “But I just can’t afford—”
“It’s only a little break,” he said, staring down at you fondly. There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes, no doubt enjoying his nearing victory against your crumbling determination. “We’ll eat, take a shower—just to freshen you and your braincells up. Then you can head back and I won’t bother you. Promise.”
“Ugh...” You closed your eyes for a second, breathing deeply, then opened them again. “...Fine.”
And Osamu let out a boyish smile, his face glowing with triumph. Honestly, he looked like a little kid getting his favorite candy. It was so goddamn endearing.
He quickly ceased the massage to take out the containers from the plastic bag. You shut your laptop, gathered your papers, and began clearing out your desk.
As you did, you felt a little lighter already. Sure you could feel the consequences of pushing yourself too hard—head heavy, back aching—but the knot in your chest loosened, even if just a little.
It hit you that you probably wouldn’t have made it through the night like this. You would’ve kept going until your body gave out on you. Maybe you would’ve fallen asleep right here at your desk. Maybe you would’ve woken up hours later, disoriented, with even less time and twice the panic.
Your fingers curled slightly against the edge of the table.
...You really did need this.
You turned and slowly reached out for Osamu’s forearm. You tugged him closer and pressed a kiss on his bicep. “Thanks,” you murmured, “for annoying me and stuff.”
You aren’t good at expressing your gratitude clearly, but from Osamu’s chuckle, you could tell he understood.
He dropped whatever he was doing and patted your head.
“Anytime, babe,” he said, pushing your hair back and planting a kiss on your forehead.
You two stayed like that for a while before he slowly moved away and popped open a container. He picked up a piece of karaage with chopsticks and held it near your mouth.
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