a/n: need this big beefy man to suffocate me (word daddy used a couple times)
kiri finds you curled up in bed, under the blankets and clinging onto his pillow. you poke your head out and whine softly and he immediately starts pulling off his hero gear. he goes to grab sweats and you whine again, flipping the blankets off of you and reaching out to him.
“shh, i’m here baby. i’m here.” he walks over to you and crawls in bed.
he pulls you into his lap, brushing back you hair and looking over your face. he watches you slowly blink at him, the way your lip trembles and the way you’re slowly pulling him closer by his shoulders. he wraps his arms around you, squeezing you tight as you burrow into his neck, his hair ticking your cheek.
“what’s wrong, sweet girl?” he rubs your back.
“i.. dunno.” you shake your head.
he feels your hot tears drip onto his skin. “it’s okay.” he brings a hand up to the back of your head. “i’m here baby.” he slowly rocks you in his arms.
“i want..” a whine and a roll of your hips. “just wanna feel you.”
“okay okay, i got you.” he whispers.
his hand on your head slides down to wrap around your waist and lift you off his lap a little bit. his other hand slips between your thighs, fingers dragging up and down your panties, cooing in your ear as he slowly starts to feel them dampen. you’re softly hiccuping and gasping into his neck, legs shaking as he slowly peels your panties to the side.
the first drag of his fingers through your honey pulls a whimper from your mouth. “daddy.” your cheeks burn and you press closer to him.
his arm tightens around your waist. “daddy’s got you, baby. you know i need to stretch you out.” he hums softly and slips a finger inside.
“mmm!”
he slowly fucks his finger into you, sliding a second one in while you moan into his neck with your fingers digging into his hair. his thumbs hooks up and rubs at your clit until you’re falling apart in his arms whining so pretty for him.
“lemme see you, pretty girl.” he slides his fingers out, rubbing them up and down your folds as you tremble.
you open your mouth just as he pushes his tip in, a moan falling out instead of words. he sinks you down on him, watching your eyes flutter as you suck him in. you try to lift up on shaky legs but he stops you and holds you against his chest. he rocks himself up, splitting you open, each drag out steals your breath.
“starting to feel better?” he rubs your back.
“mmmngh!” your mind slowly turning to mush at the way he fills you.
“yeah?” he coos. “just let every thought leave this pretty little head.” he starts to move his hips faster. “daddy’s gonna take care of you.” he groans softly at the way you squeeze around him.
he’s focusing on the way you react to every word, every movement, making sure you’re feeling the most pleasure possible. he’s kissing the side of your head, wrapping his other arm around you and slowly pulling you out of the crook of his neck.
“there she is.” he smiles. you’re looking down at him with glassy eyes, tear stained cheeks and scrunched brows as he fucks up into you. “you gonna cum for me?” he searches your eyes.
“mhmm.” you’re trembling.
“you can let go, angel. not going anywhere.”
you collapse against his chest, orgasm washing through every never in your body as he fucks you through it before filling you with ropes of cum until you’re leaking all over his lap.
“let’s lay back down and go to bed, hm?” he rubs your back and slowly slides the both of you down until your laying against his chest. “feeling a little better?”
“love you so much, eiji.” you cuddle into his warmth.
“i love you too.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
an: eijiro filming you bouncing on his dick to send to katsuki while he's on a mission overseas..
[recording started]
"f-fuck, yea, just like t-that.." eijiro moans, one hand digging into your hips while the other holds his phone in his hands. the camera a little shaky, but you two both don't care.
you're bouncing up and down eijiros chubby length. his thick tip plunges deep into your sweet spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl.
"e-eiji! so biiiig!" you whimper, both hands placed on his chiselled chest, he lets out a breath. the lewd sounds of your skin slapping and your wetness fill the microphone. your eyes squeeze shut, letting the feeling of eijiros cock take full control of you.
"say hi to– fuck! shit, just like that–! katsuki baby." eijiro groans, his hips snapping up softly to meet your bounces. a creamy ring around his cock and sticky, gooey lines of your arousal mixed with eijiros pre are shown clinging to yours and his thighs with every bounce you make. "o-oh suukkkii.. miss yooouu." you whine out, grinding yourself down on eijiros cock – you let out a high pitched moan and he lets out a deep groan.
eijiro repositions the phone as you begin your movements again, his free hand moves it's way to your sensitive little clit; his thumb pressing down hard on the numb, making you gasp. "mffgh– fuck!!" you curse out, head lulling backwards.
"see how m-much a dirty girl she is? f-fuckin' makin' a mess– o-oooh, fuck, gonna cum." eijiro groans from deep in his chest. his thumb quickens it's circles and you moan out. "ei– ei– mmffg fuck! y-yes, yes ,yes. 'm cumming! 'm cumming!!" you sob out, your hips still and eijiros begins to thrust up into you to finish the job. you let out a silent scream, your thighs shaking as your pussy tightens to cream around the chubby, thick length of eijiros cock.
"s-she's so messy for us k-kats. we miss– oh fuck, cumming!" eijiro stills his hips upward, spurting ropes and ropes deep in your creamy pussy. you whine at the feeling of his hot cum inside before you fall down on his chest. eijiro moves the phone downward to show where the two of you are connected still; taking in a good shot of your pussy now leaking out all of eijiros cum. eijiro's hand lands a soft slap! on your ass, making you whine into him. he moves his phone camera back up so katsuki can see you fucked dumb and drooling on eijiros chest. the red head smiles towards the camera.
"we miss you kats, can't wait for you to be home!"
[video ended]
an: and katsuki jerked himself off so hard that night in his hotel room
also thank u all for 500+ followers :'') big smooches for all!
Synopsis: you don’t know he’s got a big crush on you, and he finds out you’re quite inexperienced so he offers to help you gain some.
Fanart by @/youKa.i on insta/tiktok
I hope you enjoy! -> on ao3 as well!!
Moodboard here (ignore this if you want)
Wc: 7.4k
Cw: Non canon au. Office au. No physical description of y/n other than clothes and hair (just a brief mention). Short plot. teaching you to kiss. Thumb sucking. Talking you through it. Pubic hairs. Virgin!reader. Introvert!Toji. Soft dom!Toji. Dacryphilia. Once again you’ve got a deep dish. Spooning. Prone bone. Headlocks. Make outs. Multiple orgasms. Dry humping. Thigh riding. Pussy eating. Fingering. Clit play. Creampie. Unprotected. Big dick!Toji. Size kink. Size difference. Breath play. Cervix fucking. Squirting. Second hand embarrassment (very brief). He wears glasses.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
It’s been three dreadful years since you got this job. Same boring routine. Your alarm, panging heavily. Screeching. 05:37. An oddly specific time but nonetheless. Your front flat on the bed. Head buried in the satin pillow. An arm underneath it. Your eyes groggy, crust filled, you raise one arm above your laying body and smack the sounding thing, hard. It stops.
You need exactly twenty three minutes to yourself in the morning before you begin your day. Twenty three minutes of silence. You turn over. Back now against the ruffled sheets.
Staring at the ceiling above you. Your curtains slightly ajar, a distant car engine coming to life. The headlights, illuminating. Small patterns of light reflect onto your ceiling. Various shapes.
Lifting a hand into the air slowly, you’re tracing the patterns you see. Index finger pointed, swirling circles, rectangles. A sharp edge, you trace out. Your arm, stretching further away from you.
05:43
You glance at the alarm clock. Bright red font staring back at you. You restlessly bring your arm back down, it lands in a small plop. You close your eyes briefly, a heavy sigh leaving your lips.
You grab your phone by your bedside. Tapping the screen, 05:45. You scroll through your socials, emails and skim read your schedule on your calendar.
Minutes go by as the time finally reads 06:00. You reluctantly sit up, legs hanging off the edge of the mattress. Hands planted on either side of it, you push yourself up with a small grunt. You enter your bathroom, marble dark green tiled walls and a few small plant pots decorated the room.
A red toothbrush in a white mug next to your small sink. You brush your teeth and shower all under thirty minutes. You find a professional business-casual outfit in your closet. A yellow cashmere sweater, paired with indigo straight legged jeans and red bowl of repettos. You grab your wired headphones and your bag, keys already in hand, and head out. A soft tune playing in your ears.
You check your phone, April 5th. 06:50. The weather’s less cold today. The sun rising, a hue of golden skulked behind chalky clouds. A warm easy breeze brushing your cheeks.
Fourteen minutes.
You needed to get the train at exactly four minutes past seven in the morning.
You make it to the station with four minutes to spear. You love walking, such an easy way to get your blood flowing.
The station’s platform buzzed with restless hums of commuters. Swarmed with people. Fatigued faces, sagged shoulders. A heaviness in the air. Yet you were tuned out, bouncing quietly to the rhythm in your ear. You didn’t let the heaviness get to you. You already know you have a long day ahead of you. Can’t do anything about it.
One silver carriage after another rolls in. Tires screeching every few seconds. It halts. The doors slowly opening, a horde of people rushing out, whilst people barge past others trying to rush in, you included. It’s tightly packed. Stuffy air. Poor air conditioning. Blocked in every direction. Bags brushing against people’s backs. Bumping at every jolt of the train. The train jerks at a curve, sending you swaying. Your body failing to catch up with the sudden movement. Your body bends, face pressing up into someone’s swole chest. The train lurches again, he catches you. Beefy arms locking around your waist.
“I’m soo sorry. The train— I didn’t mean to.” You plead. Your eyes haven’t reached his yet, too embarrassed to look.
“You okay?” A deep rumble.
Baritone. Throaty.
You finally look up at him nervously, eyes widening slightly.
He’s handsome. Very handsome. Nearly a whole foot taller than you. His neck tilted downward, fully focused on you. Black hair, a messy wolf cut, almost blue in the train light, frame his eyes. They’re sharp, you notice. Grey with hints of green as they stared back into yours. Intense. Glasses framed perfectly on his nose. Black briefcase over a shoulder. A white t-shirt underneath a navy blue sweat, folded at the midpoint of his forearm, exposing angry veins following up to his massive hands. He could kill me in one punch, you think.
Dark grey slacks, your eyes trailing further down to his black oxford patent shoes.
His arm is still caged at your waist, holding you upright. Wait. You’ve seen him before. Where? At the park? Wait no. This is your coworker. What’s his name again?
T…to…Zen…
You’re trying to remember, still staring at him, not answering.
“It’s Toji. We’re colleagues."
Ah Toji. That’s it.
“O—oh yeah. I totally remembered.” A slight forced laugh leaving you.
The train bumps again. You accidentally grab at his bicep. Meaty. Thick bicep. He’s so big you think. You’d never noticed Toji. At all actually. But he’s noticed you.
“Sorry again.” You look down, uncomfortable.
“Hold onto me yeah?” Velvety voice. He’s pulling you tighter against him. Your chest flushed against his rigid one. Fuck, how is he so big?
You give a tiny nod, eyes focused on the ground. He grunts in response. Odd. Paying no mind to it, you pull out your phone, needing any distraction. Reviewing your calendar. A full busy day, your phone reads. With it all ending by 6pm. You sigh mentally. You click a few tasks, scrolling on your phone checking the details.
‘Type up a project, send it off to your boss by the end of the day.’ Emails upon emails flooding yours. Constantly responding to them. Lunch break. The same restaurant. Same sandwich. Lettuce, cheese, chicken breast.
All the while, there’s Toji. Fighting your scent. He’s staring at the top of your head. Thoughts overpowering him. The smell of your perfume, so enticing, so inviting. Screaming in his nose. Vanilla with a hint of strawberry. He gives in and breathes you in slow. Quiet. Face nearly pressing into your head. Eyes closing. A flush of pink rushing to his cheeks. A bulge forming slightly in his trousers. Shiiit.
You’re still holding onto his bicep. It felt like the muscle was bursting out. He dwarfed you. His large body shielding, hiding you from everyone else. You couldn’t see over his shoulder even if you tried.
The train still moving, tired groans of its wheels are heard every few minutes.
-
The train slowed with a long screech. Its wheels grinding against the rails. It stops. The doors opened with a sluggish spread. People barging past each other trying to get out. You’re unfocused, not really there. Toji’s large arms guiding you out. Your chest to his front, your feet backing away. His forward. Both stumbling out. He’s holding you tight, the warmth radiating off of him. He’s so close. His musky, sandalwood perfume digging in your nose. You can’t help but inhale.
You both make it out onto the platform. Still clutched onto each other. Your eyes reach his, he’s already looking.
“Thank you Toji.” Face flushing in a deeper colour, he’s making you so shy.
His heart stutters. A small pink on the surface of his face. He swallows the lump in his throat before answering.
“‘S no problem.”
The two of you exit the station in silence. Both side by side, he’s slowing his steps matching your pace. Hands in his pockets. Grounded, confident strides of his long legs next to yours. A heavy walk. Small tilts of his hips from every step.
-
Eventually you make it to the office doors.
Both heavily greeted by your lively boss.
“Ahh! It’s nice to see you two come in together.” Strangely bubbly. Especially with how early it is in the morning. Just twenty minutes after seven. Messy glasses, hair in flying strands. A bright red cardigan with a white shirt underneath. Grey pants and black dr martens.
She reminds you of your old art teacher from college.
You give her a small smile anyway, nodding.
“Why specifically.. us two?” You ask all confused.
Your boss glances at Toji, wiggling her brows. You narrow your eyes at her, then between the two. You pause at Toji, nervously staring at him. He’s glaring at your boss. A minute of silence follows. Just eyes fighting over.
Toji quickly barges past you both, his face flushed red. You couldn’t see it though. Only noticed the growing red at the back of his neck. He reaches a hand up to cover it as he scurries away.
“Uh?”
“Alrighty!” Your boss’s sing songy voice cutting you off.
“I’ve got a bunch of stuff for you to do today. I know you can get it allll done before the end of today! Aaand I’ll reward you if you do.” Eyes beaming at yours. She’s paused in a teeth open smile. Hands clasped together. Interlocked. You don’t know why that scares you a bit, but it does.
You crack a smile again, one eye twitching.
-
Lunch time. Finally. You’ve got a headache.
You’re headed to your easy access restaurant. Reciting your order in your head.
The weather’s quite nice today. Soft kisses of a warm breeze wafting through the air land on your cheeks. It’s a two minute walk from the office.
You’ve got your sandwich in a small brown bag, you’re holding it up with two hands. It’s your favourite sandwich, so you hold it with much care. Pacing, making your way back to the office staff room.
You reach the office doors, tapping your lanyard at the speed gates. A light jog now, you’re heading down to the staff room, excited to quench your hunger.
Reaching the door to the staff room, you stretch your arm out aiming for the handle before the door opens and you meet a larger, sturdier body. Same blue sweater, same toned forearms. You look up, eyes beaming.
“Toji!” A soft smile tugging at your lips as you stare.
He grunts in response, nodding his head a little. Hands coming up to push at the bridge of his glasses. Adjusting the already neatly placed thing on his face. Needing to ground himself in your presence. You make him so nervous you don’t even know it.
He steps aside letting you in. You give him a playful wink as thanks. A rush of heat gathers at his cheeks. Fuck. You don’t know how much he likes you. You’ve just got this easiness to you. So soft. Sweet.
You enter the room, seeing a close work friend sitting at one of the tables. You settle down into a chair next to her, chatting your day away.
-
The end of your shift is approaching. You’ve never been happier. You’re sitting at your desk typing away at the keyboard.
“My lovely staff!” Your boss enters the office room in that annoyingly warm sing songy voice.
“Since you’ve all been such wonderful people, I’m rewarding you all! Office dinner!” She shrieks, her voice getting pitchier at every word. You feel a throb at your ear drums. Covering your ears with both hands you’re smiling at her anxiously. There’s one thing you still weren’t used to in all your three years of being here. Your boss’s unpredictable nature.
“An officer dinner sounds nice.”
You hear murmurs across the room, some eager, some anxious, you being one of them.
-
The long awaited office dinner. You’re seated beside your close friend around a circular table, giggling at something she’s said. Other staff gathered around. You can’t really register it though you’ve had a few drinks and they’re starting to take effect. You’re swaying side to side, a hearty smile etched on your face. You’re staring at your friend so lovingly. You love friendships. There’s something much deeper about friendships than anything else.
You hear another one of your colleagues talk about their sexual history. The alcohol punching it out of them. With another tipsy giggle, you lean in towards your friend, ushering her closer with a beckon of your hand. A nearly empty glass of wine in the other.
You whisper in her ear. Giggling.
“You know I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
You rise back up, staring with a drunken smile. It’s as if she’s forced into sobriety when she hears you. Face contorting into something that looks like surprise. Before she responds, she notices a certain someone. How they’ve been struggling to keep their eyes off of you. Dull green ones.
Instead, she grabs a spoon and taps in against her empty glass, a chime following. The room has her attention.
“Who wants a round of spin the bottle?” She suggests. A smirk playing on her lips.
“We’re too old for—”
“Yes! Sounds perfect.” Your boss cuts in. Her word being final.
Your boss grabs an empty beer bottle, facing it flat on the table and spins.
It unexpectedly lands on a certain dark haired male. That so happens to have a very sizeable frame.
“Mr Zenin!” She gleams. There’s a panicked look on his face, you chuckle to yourself quietly. Seems like he’s also not used to her antics.
“Aaaand…”
Spinning the bottle again. Your boss is seated near you, hands clasped together. Almost as if she knows who it’s landing on. Like she’s orchestrated something. It spins for a good long twenty seconds before landing perfectly in your direction. What a coincidence.
She yells your name excitedly. And you’re stunned in your seat. Frozen. You look to your friend whispering a quick
“What do I do?”
Before you glance over at Toji’s face and he’s… red. Very red. You look slightly concerned. Brows squinted. Mouthing a
‘You ok?’
He just nods quickly. Eyes leaving yours briefly, dancing around the room.
“Well?” Your boss is still giving that creepy wide smile.
“Well what..” you ask wearily. Clutching at the hem of your shirt.
“Well, head on out to an empty room! Both of ya.” She gestures her hands to the door, clapping, and Toji’s already up on his feet. This is the quickest you’ve ever seen him move. Practically speed walking to the door, exiting first. Small snickers are heard throughout the room.
“He’s so obvious.”
You just glance over everyone, still confused. With one final glance at your boss, you follow along. Leaving the room.
You find Toji against a nearby wall. Hands digging in his pockets. Shifting from one foot to the other.
“Toji?” You call out. His face turned over to you. Heart beating out his chest. Can she hear it? He wonders. He’s waited for such an opportunity like this, trying so hard not to fuck it up.
“..should we find a room?” His voice is so quiet. It’s as if he’s making an effort to look less intimidating than he already does. Why would you be scared though? He’s so nice. If looks could kill though.
“Yeah.” A reassuring smile shaping on your lips.
The both of you find an empty room, far away from your main building. No person nearby. No noise. Just extreme quietness.
You feel the alcohol setting in even more now. A slight dizziness forming. Possibly for him too, he’s had a few shots of whisky.
Your mind drifts back to what you said a few minutes ago.
‘Never kissed anyone before’
Toji seems like an understanding person under all that scruff. He could probably give you advice. He’s attractive. Very evidently. Your eyes rake over him. A slow once-over. Settling on his biceps for a second longer. God they’re so big. He’s so big. He probably has experience, you conclude. Definitely. He could help you. You muster up the courage and blurt it out.
“Toji! You know..” you pause, eyes looking at the ground before meeting his again. “I’ve never kissed anyone before… or done— you know what nevermind.” A huge wave of second hand embarrassment erupting. Hearing it out loud. Again. It sounds worse than it did earlier. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. What possessed you to say that you think. Mentally slapping yourself a good few times. Eyes scrunching closed in disgust. Crows feet forming at how hard you’re pressing your lids together.
It’s as if the gates of heaven had opened and invited Toji Zenin directly. As vip. He sucks in a breath you don’t notice. Heart stuttering in his firm chest.
You’re looking away, all shy. Turning around full so your back is facing him now. You wish you could erase this memory, wipe it clean off the face of earth.
I should’ve never drank— Oh god, what if he tells everyone— you’re brain spiralling.
You hear heavy thuds, he’s slowly approaching you. Close enough to your back that you feel his warmth. Only slightly, but giving you room to object.
“Would you like me to… teach you?” He asks you, voice deeper than it usually is.
You spin back around shocked that he’s not disgusted by your admission. A small smile forming on your lips in genuine delight, you look up at him and nod twice. The alcohol fully in control of you both now. Hazey eyes, shining at him. He raises a hand up to your face. Slowly. Giving you time to say otherwise. You don’t reject it. He places a thumb at your chin, rubbing softly. Your jaw too. Tilting your gaze at him. Caressing you.
Before dipping his head low, huge body caging yours. He parts his lips slightly. His grey eyes half lidded. Intensely staring into your glazed ones.
His other hand finds your face. Propping up your head in both big hands, making you look so much smaller, he always did, he steps closer. Contracted biceps bulging in his shirt. Fingers travelling up your face, thumbs at the apples of your cheek.
“Open your mouth a bit…” he whispers, lowering a thumb, glazing over your glossy bottom lip.
“Yeah jus’ like that.”
Fuck he sounds so hot right now. Is it the alcohol? It’s definitely the alcohol.
You’re staring up at him. Blinking slow. Eyes all doey.
He pushes his thumb in. Delicately. Pushing at your wet muscle. Circling. His own tongue stutters out a little, in awe. Mimicking almost, as if he can’t fathom that you’re actually letting him put his thumb in your mouth. You hollow your cheeks and suck.
Slurp.
Your eyes close, shutting softly.
“Mnh.” That does it.
He removes his thumb, resting it on your bottom lip. Stares at the glistening thing. His eyes, heavy. He inches his face closer. His warm breath wafting over your face. Your mouth.
A gentle, chaste roll of his lips on yours. Slow. Open mouthed.
Chu.
Eyes closing at the feel. He pulls away just a bit. Low eyes boring into you. He’s still close enough that you’re breathing his air. You’re dazed. Panting unhurried deep breaths. Every exhale fanning his lips. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip slowly. Nearly touching yours. His eyes gloss over your wet mouth.
He leans in again. Eyes closing. Pulling your lips against his. Still unrushed. Angling closer. Noses brushing at every twist of his head. Deepening this kiss. His tongue wetting your lower lip. Asking. Pleading.
“Let me in.” Heavy pants in between kisses.
You open your mouth with a tiny moan, welcoming, enveloping his thick tongue. He’s bigger everywhere. So much bigger than you. You love it. He’s rolling his tongue against yours now, tracing the crevices of your mouth. Swallowing you. Tongues tangled. Moaning into you.
“Mmph!” Sultry groans leaving his mouth. Trapping your lower lip between his teeth. Sucking softly.
“Hn!”
You never knew kissing could be like this. Feel like this. You feel a pool of warmth settle at your lower belly. Butterflies. You push into him further. Tongues flat against each other. Sucking. Teeth clashing.
You’re grinding against each other now. His hands, wandering down your back, gripping your ass.
Your hips give an experimental thrust. An elongated roll. Holding it for an extra second. Mid kiss, you feel something rigid. Taut. Quite long too. You pull away just a little.
A gasp leaves you. You’re not too sure if it's pleasure or shock. Definitely both. You glance down at the hard thing. It looks painful, almost. Huge dent protruding at his lower clothes. A hefty thing he is. Couldn’t possibly be a normal size. You’re zoned out at the sight of him, he nudges a meaty thigh between your legs. Pulling your lower body closer to his. Veiny hands fixed at your hips. Rolling your clothed pussy against the solid muscle, he flexes.
“Unh!”
You’re moaning into his mouth. Hot breaths mixing. Eyes dilated. Fluttering.
“T—Toji!” You tried to pull away, voice trembling.
“Wanna stop?” He whispers with a shaky exhale. Low grey eyes piercing yours.
He hasn’t stopped moving you on his body. Gyrating hips in firm hands. You attempt to respond. But you whimper instead. He takes that as your answer. Entranced at how good it feels on his thigh. Throbbing pulses of your pussy every few beats. You’re aching. Craving more. Is this a normal thing that happens during sex? You don’t know. But you love it.
“I’m gonna pick you up okay?”
You give a few rushed nods, flushed face, parted wet lips brushing his.
Lifting you easily with one of his massive arms, he locks your legs around his toned waist. Flexed arms firm around your body. Caging you. Pulling you in so your clothed pussy’s face first against his bulge.
He’s grinding you down harder. Longer. Your clit catching at the large bump. He’s moving into you. Slow rolls of his.
“Angh!” Eyes shut. Lips caught in your teeth. They’re trembling. Poor attempts of you stifling your sounds. You hide your face into the crook of his neck.
“That good huh?” His voice all rugged. He’s feeling this as much as you. Hot breaths fanning your ear. You can’t reply.
You’re clutching at his tricep. Shoulders, his neck. A deep feeling settling in your lower belly. A build up. It's tight. Severe almost.
“You gotta say it.”
“Toj— hn! I don’t angh! Something’s—”
A few more rolls of your clothed pussy on him and you’re shuddering. Thighs shaking vigorously, eyes spinning. A silent cry leaving you. You’re cumming, hard. Nails gnawing at his shirt.
“F—fuckk!” Heavy heaves of your breath against his flushed neck.
“Breathe… breathe for me..that’s it.”
Beats pass. He helps you down from your high. You look ruined. Face stained in aftershocks of pleasure. You’re so fucking beautiful he’s barely holding on.
“I didn’t think it could be like that.” You breathlessly say. Staring at him.
“There’s still a lot more to learn…” His eyes dance around you before continuing.
“Let me take you home?”
-
Stumbling into your apartment, you’re pressed tightly against each other. Lips in a tangle of wet opened mouth kisses, your hands scratching at his back, forcing him impossibly closer to you. His face pinked in pleasure, harsh breaths strangling out airing your face.
Your apartment keys tumbling out your hands in a single swift motion, clattering against the floor. He’s all over you. Broad hands tugging at the hem of your shirt. Hoisting the thing above, now off of you. Your arms coming up with his before locking around his neck. Lace black bra on full display. His hungry gaze drifted to them, lingering. The curve of your breasts. The fullness. The way your nipples poked through the fabric. Awe didn’t begin to cover the way he ogled at your tits. The way he looked at them was deeper, almost reverent.
Obsessive.
You’ve both found the nearest wall, your sweat filled back pressing into it. Lifting ever so often with how your chest chases after him. He brings a hand to one of them, squeezing just right. Enough to cause pressure, but not enough to elicit pain from you. Can’t do that. He wouldn’t dream of it. You’re so precious to him, so perfect. Can’t ruin you just yet. He claws at your top pulling down in one swift tug. Tits spilling out in a perfect motion, as though flowers were breaking through their petals. You bloomed. He’s quick to grab hold of one of them, large hands swallowing it whole. The raw feeling now. You’re so warm. So pliable in his hands. He gives another experimental knead. Playing with you. Testing it.
Your pebbled nipple, glossing over his palm. You can’t fight the sound that leaves you. A soft mewl.
“Hnntoji!”
Back arching into it, needing more. Eyes unfocusing, you head slightly lulled back. A soft thud on the wall.
“Eyes on me.”
His free hand grips the back of your neck, pulling your face flush against his. Lips meeting in a hurried passionate kiss. Tongues entwining. Wet sounds of your lips filled the void.
“Mnnchu— Toji..I want more.”
“Yeah you want more?” He says in an almost whisper. Hot breath ghosting over your lips. You’re nodding pathetically, he can’t help but find it adorable. He snickers a bit.
“Tell me hm? Tell me sweet girl.” Eager eyes searching yours.
“I.. I need your fingers.” The words leave your lips so quietly, like a fragile thread of sound, barely audible. He catches them anyway. So focused on your every move. Watching your wet lips, a sensual glint in his eyes.
“Need to hear you baby.” He teases, a small smirk fighting his lips. You’re throbbing at the nicknames. Sounding so easy off his tongue.
“Your fingers… ‘need them.” Your eyes snap close in shame, a silent surrender. Cheeks deepened in colour, prominent. Lips quivering in small unnoticed waves.
“Yeah? Where d’ya want me?” Another taunt.
“..Inside.” You hesitate. An eye peeking open at him. Waiting. Hoping he doesn’t tease you some more.
“Hnnfuck yeah ya do.” With a groan, he brings his hands further down your body. Hurried tugs of your jeans and you’re left in your underpants only. Matching black with your bra, beautiful lace patterns on the top. His greedy eyes peer down at them. Sucking in a slow breath, his fingers tremble over them. As if he’s too scared to go any further. He’s not scared though. Far from it. He trails his index and middle down your shuddering stomach, passing your belly button, down to the top of your panties. Slowly hooking them into it, he’s dragging it down, past your sweaty thighs until it falls on its own.
A hand by the bottom of your thighs, he’s trailing it up, brushing against it. You’re waiting with a bated breath. Finally reaching your mound. Softly trimmed hairs sweep against his rigid fingers. He bites back a groan. You’re just there, eyes blown, helplessly waiting for him to keep going.
He has to fight his eyes away from your pussy.
“Gonna show me where your room is?” Haggard voice. So clearly affected by you.
“Y—yeah.”
He hauls you up into him, bulging biceps, your legs wrapped around his trimmed waist, arms around his neck, your face buried into it. Heavy thuds on the ground, he’s walking slowly. Almost too slow. Certain, assured that he’s going to have you. No arguments. Just measured steps as you lift your face off of him just a tad, timidly pointing to where your room is. He gives a small pat on your ass as thanks. It ripples under his massive hand.
Toji finds your bed, lowers you onto it so delicately as if you were something so fragile. His knees digging into the sheets. Shoes off. Still fully clothed while you lay bare for him. Large hands cradling your face, stroking softly. The look he’s giving you, so loving. Blushing cheeks, slightly ajar mouth. Hot puffs of air leaving every exhale. You’re giving him an equal stare. Dazed. Scared almost. Needy. His knuckles, brushing your heated cheeks. He felt the warmth. Knows how much you want this, just as bad as he does.
He’s leisurely taking his time with you. Running his hands from your cheeks to your neck. He lingers there. Giving you a soft squeeze, testing your limits. You don’t fight back. Can’t fight back.
The orgasm you had earlier, still fogging your brain. His thumb brushes the front of your neck before he continues down. To the valley between your breasts, your belly, to your lower belly. He points an index below your belly button still touching your soft skin.
“Gonna be in there soon.” He whispers. His voice, so quiet it sounds like awe. You just stare at him, a bit confused. Head tilting a little. Slightly squinted brows. Then your eyes follow down to where his finger touches you. Blinking softly. He chuckles at your unfocused gaze. You don’t understand. Not yet.
He continues drifting his fingers down, meeting your hairs. Your hips stutter only just a bit. He marvels at the movement. So sensitive. He brings his other hand down, pushing your thighs away from each other. Revealing a soaked you. Glistening pussy on display, your clit fairly protruding out, throbbing under his devoted eyes.
“Fuck me..” He murmurs. Breath hitching at the sight of you, all wet, all for him. You try to hide from him. Head turning to the side, digging into your pillow, face tucked into your elbows. You can’t see him now. He doesn’t mind.
Toji lowers his face, lining his mouth to your pussy. Deep heavy breaths escaping his lips, fanning your clit.
“Angh!” You jolt your hips. Pressing your face closer into your elbow. He darts his low eyes at your hidden face. Blows a cold, long breath on your clit.
“Hnn!” You’re mewling, voice muffled in your arms.
“Can you look at me..please.” His voice partly whiney.
You don’t want to. Too shy, too embarrassed to let him see you like this. It was all fun and games before. But it’s becoming too real. He blows at your clit once more. A tremor running through you, your lower body mainly. Small involuntary movements. You move an arm just above your eyes, you can see him a bit. He can see you too. The dilation of your eyes, the fuzzy look of it. The heaving of your chest, just enough that your tits bounce every inhale. It’s all too much for him. He shouldn’t have asked.
Once your eyes are on his, he moves. Closer now. Just a hair away from your weeping pussy. He juts a wet tongue out, pushing past his lips. Slowly, ever so slowly, curling the muscle against your clit. The moment you feel it, you whine. Teeth pulling at your lower lip. Not over his clothes, not over your clothes. His tongue. The raw thing.
He gives another slow curl, this time staring lower. Near your opening. Sliding upwards, meeting your clit before blowing. Cold. Shuddering, you try to close your thighs, locking his head in place. He’s quicker. Grabbing below your thighs, hiking them up on his broad wide shoulders.
“You’re okay. Hm?” He assures you before continuing.
He’s way stronger than you, you couldn’t fight back if you tried. He dives in again, sucking hard all of a sudden.
Slurrrp
Your heads lulled back, the front of your neck on full display. Holding in whines, that barely leave your lips. Arms still above you.
He brings his mouth off of your clit and blows again. Another wave of cold air gliding on your pussy.
“Fuck!” You moan out. Loud. You bring an arm down, your hand finding his hair, tugging him into you. He lets you. Forcing his face into your pussy.
Sucking, slurping. Full French kisses on your pussy. Tongue jutting out before sliding between your slit, not entering you yet, just parting you. It slides from the entrance of your hole up to your clit. He waits there, sucking the aching muscle into his mouth. Hollow pink cheeks. His eyes closed in pleasure. Admiration. His crush, letting him eat her out. He’s dreamed of this.
He teases his tongue, gliding lower, circling back up to your clit then lower again. You’re shaking violently, eyes tight shut, mouth hanging open. The sounds you tried so hard to fight back leaving you so easily now.
His tongue circles your hole. Pushing in slowly.
“Toji!” You mewl out to him. He knows you’re getting close.
He hums into you. You cry out. Back lifting. He removes his wet mouth again, an inch of distance from him and your pussy. He blows. A familiar coldness on your clit. Quivering hips, bucking into the coolness. Chasing that feeling. You’re crying now. Tears rolling down your cheeks, staining the sheets.
An abrupt orgasm ripping through you, a fast build up pooling at your stomach that you couldn’t realise quickly.
You’re shaking so much now, whining so much, thighs jutting beside him. Your chest heaving vigorously, tits swaying. He doesn’t stop.
Tongue plunging back in. Bringing a rough thumb to your clit. Circling it. You attempt to run away. Hips bucking the opposite direction. He uses his free hand and grounds you. Digging you into him, the bed. You can barely move. Just violent trembles as he eats your pussy.
“Insi— hngh!”
He fucks his way inside your pussy. Tongue delving in, whilst keeping harsh circles of his thumb on your clit. Fuck it’s all too much for you. No one’s ever done this before. He’s gonna ruin anyone else for you.
Shlck shlck
Wet noises of your pussy filling the room. He’s groaning into you. Deep baritone noises buried in your cunt. Your arms are everywhere now. Gripping the sheets below, your pillow above.
“Toooo much! Ugh!” Moaning loud. Your face twisting, burying the noises into your pillow.
He’s locked you in place. Moving is so much harder now. Meaty biceps flexing at every thrum of your clit. Your juices, his saliva drooling out the corners of his lips. He’s so into it. Engrossed. Eyes still closed, just feeling you. He’s overwhelming you. Pushing your body past limits you didn’t know you had.
You’re nearly there again. But it’s slightly different this time? It feels warmer. Wetter almost? You can’t really tell but you know it’s different.
“Toji! I think— hck! It’s ouhfuck!” Your voice pitches higher and higher, need tightening it, edged with a hint of fear.
He doesn’t stop. Still tongue fucking your pussy, pushing as deep as it can go. Thumb circling against your clit, harder, faster. It’s all too much. Your back’s arched in a gracious bow, hips lifted, legs falling on and off his shoulders. Tears clogging your vision. You can’t see him. The build up coiling so perfectly you can’t hold it in.
It’s everywhere, your juices spraying out, covering his face. Squirting all over. Pink cheeks stained in wetness. His glasses, fully fogged now wet.
“That’s it baby, let go f’r me.. mhmm soo good f’r me.” Thumb under your clit, pushing it higher, letting more of your juices out. He’s kissing your shakes thighs, wet open-mouthed. Sucking slightly. Trailing the kissing up to your knees, while humming praises at you.
Your wailing, sobbing. Breathing turns uneven, your chest stuttering at every tremble. Tits following along.
He sits up on his knees, bringing a wet hand removing his stained glasses, to the hem of his shirt, lifting it in one quick tug. Then his t-shirt underneath. Unbuttoning. Top to bottom. His low eyes still fixed on your quivering state. You roll your tired head upright, facing him. Watching. Chest falling softer now.
Sculpted, taut contours of his abdomen come into view, hard, rock-like muscles that look engraved. The t-shirt falls past his arms, beefy veiny biceps, strong forearms flexing as he removes it fully. You’re in awe. You knew Toji was strong but nothing like this. Sharp deep lines of his abdomen, the ease of his movements. You can’t take your eyes off.
He lowers his hands to his belt, unraveling the thing easily. He steps off of your bed for a second. Your eyes follow him. He’s dragging his slacks down. Two hard tugs and it pools at his ankles, he steps out of it. Dark hairs littered at his lower hard stomach.
You see the meaty indent of his boxers. Bulging, thick muscle fighting against the fabric, pushing at it. It’s so big. Much bigger than you thought. It throbs under your stare.
He’s put you under a spell. You see his hands come to the top of his boxers, his thumb hooking under, disappearing into his boxers. Your gasp goes unnoticed. Lips parted, eagerly waiting to see the rest of him. His thumb pulls down, fully exposing himself. You finally see it. Angry reddish tip, nearly purple, beady clear drops of precum leaking through, falling from the head nearing the base. Thick, girthy, too long. Distended veins running up the sides, a prominent one running up the top of his shaft. Heavy hanging balls, darker than the rest of him. It’s fucking huge. Full eight inches of raw cock. Your eyes almost pop out. Fully in disbelief of that fitting inside. It can’t possibly fit.
He hauls the boxer until it falls to his feet, steps out of it and onto the bed again. Knees digging back into the sheets. A weighted dent on the bed. Pure muscle. You haven’t stopped staring at it, nearly drooling, he’s eating up your reaction. Chuckling. Body vibrating at the rumble. You’re still in a daze, he’s gripping your hips, both hands, pulling you closer so your thighs rest atop his. Feet hanging off the side. He grabs the weapon in between his legs. Gives a few slow pumps of his fist. Squeezing at the tip, moaning low. You throb at the sound, shifting a little. Fingers tightly grasping the sheets below.
He lowers it, lining it with your clit, rubbing around it, circling it. Realll slow. Pushing into it, past it til the tips catches your hairs. He grunts at the feel. Heavy breath puffing out his nose. Brows knitted. You hiccup a broken moan. Lips parted. Wet.
He rubs it further into your hairs again, biting his lower lip before bringing it to your sopping hole. Both sodden. Hot.
A slow push of his hips, he’s entering. The tip stretching your virgin hole. Plush, mushroomed. He halts. The pressure, too fucking tight. He’ll work you open. Has to. He retracts his hips, turns you over so your back is against his chest. You're both laying on your side. It feels too intimate this way. He’s hugging your body so close to his. Spooning you. Not letting you go. A hand wrapped around your waist. The other, fondling your tits.
“Gonna take you this way.” His voice rumbles in your ear, he gives a steady long stripe of his tongue against it. A throaty groan leaving him. You wiggle on him, whining. Your ass bumping his cock every few turns.
He reaches a hand down to his cock, bringing it to your hole once again. Pushing in heavily. Tip nudging further. A few inches getting in. A quarter way. He brings his free arm up, covering your neck, your teeth gnawing at his swollen bicep, his forearm. Tears springing at the edges of your eyes. Wetting your lashes again.
“Hnngh!” You whinge out. Inaudible words pouring out.
“I know baby, I know.. I know it’s too big.” He encourages you, voice rough, laced in pleasure.
Another few inches forcing their way in.
“Toji! F—fuck!”
“Shh. I’ve got you.” He reassures.
He’s easing in slow. A couple more now. Your pussy sucking him in so well. Soo good. He’s nearly at the base. He abruptly stops. The wet heat of your cunt trapping him in place. Clinging onto him. He might cum if you move. He digs his face into your hair, breathing in deep, eyes fluttering. An unhurried push of his hips and he’s all in. Burly inches of his cock stretching you so deep. Your eyes are rolled back from the feel.
It’s not that it hurts. It did. But it was that uncomfortable stretch. The fullness of his cock edging deeper. An unfamiliar feeling yet, you felt completely whole.
Fully sheathed inside you. You feel it throbbing, every rigid vein, every pulse. Pressing at your cervix. Bruising.
“Fuck, ‘got a deep cunt— nghhfuck.”
“Toji.. please— something! Do something!” You cry into his elbow. Voice muffled. It hurts. An aching sensation. You feel little throbs of his cock hitting places you’ve never reached before. Never felt before. And he’s soo deep. Way too deep.
With a husky groan, he retreats his hips back and steadily rocks into you. Long, deep strokes thumping at your cervix. Balls hammering, his strong hips flush against your ass. Rippling with every thrust. The tip of his stiff cock, gliding through you, bumping your g-spot. You feel it once. Twice. Then you're smacking at his hip, arm reaching behind you. Pleading with him to let you go. It’s too good. You can’t take it.
“Ffuck off. Hnn!” Moaning, fussing into his flexed bicep. Wet eyes. You’re urging your shaky hips away. Scrambling forward, desperate.
“You want me to fuck off?” He sneers back at you. Laughing into the spot behind your ear. Breath fanning it.
“N—no. I don’t knoww.” You weep, sniffling. Tears pouring down his forearm.
“You don’t know?” He’s snickering.
His pace quickens. Deep fast strokes, you feel it in your throat. Your gaze turns unfocused, eyes forced back. Your nose buried in his arm, hot breaths leaving your soppy lips. You’re kissing his arm. Biting. Marking him. Grounding yourself as he plummets your insides. Turning you to a putty mess. You’re gone. So far gone. He’s snaking a hand up, pinching your nipples, rolling the buds in his fingers. You’re wailing loud. Juddering.
A familiar torrid ache forming at your lower belly.
“O—oh my godhnn!” It doesn’t even settle in your belly. Wrenching out of you intensely. So incredibly. You couldn’t hold it in even if you tried. Too sensitive.
“Nghh!” With a groan, you’re coming down. Tits bouncing, your body so very warm. He’s helping you through it. Slower strokes. Still bumping your spot. You whimper.
“Nghstopp!” Crying out, begging. A hand clutching at his, scratching. The other, clasping at the wet sheets. Smudged with the mixture of sweat and cum.
He doesn’t stop. Instead, he hauls his burly body, shifting his weight so he’s fully on top of you. His face, closer to you. Near your left ear. You’re crushed underneath him. Belly flat on the bed. He’s locking an arm around your neck once again, bringing the hand on that arm to your face, covering it. You can’t move, at all. He’s clamped your lower body in place. His other arm, steady beside you. Contorted. Tensed. His veins are more prominent like this.
Wet lashes brushing your cheeks, your mouth now muffled in his larger hand.
“Mhhhhn!” You try to kick your legs, but it can only fold at the knee. Your claves touching the back of your thighs. You can’t move your thighs. Can’t part them. His hefty body won’t allow you.
He does a lengthy grind into you. His happy trail flushed at your ass. He hasn’t pulled out the entire time, not giving you an ounce of space.
He keeps at it. Deep grinds, his tip knocking at your cervix. Pressed so heavy against it. Stretching you impossibly further.
Haggard breaths, uneven moans brush at your ear. He’s getting closer now. Hips stuttering in broken circles.
You’re completely out of it. Dumbed. Fully. Can’t think of anything but the feel of his cock so far deep in your pussy. The veins. The bumps. And god you’re so sensitive. Another quickening build up of warmth steadily rising in your stomach.
“Fuckfuckfuck—”
Another few irregular rolls of his hips and he’s cumming. White thick hot beads of cum discharging into you. He won’t stop moving. Pushing it as deep as it can go, making sure you don’t spill a drop.
You’re numb. Body limp under him. Arms flat at your sides. Eyes fully rolled back, coarse hot air puffing past your lips.
He’s grunting atop of you. Moaning low, still feeling the white hot pleasure of his cum, your pussy. Especially your pussy.
He brings an arm up, rough hands palming, rubbing your back in slow gentle movements.
“From now on, just let me teach you everything, yeah?”
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
A/n: lawdfddd I need him so bad. Also this wasn’t proofread.
@toj1sleftnut <33
Don’t transcribe or translate into anything else. Thank ya <3
some of you really need to remember that fanfic writers are actual people. like these people are literally giving you their time and creativity for FREE because they love writing and want to share it with others and that has somehow become an invitation for some of you to send them hate or harass them,,, what the hell???
you don’t have to like someone’s fic. you don’t even have to read it. close the tab!!! block them!!! go outside!!! there are approximately 7000 other things you could do instead of deliberately making someone feel unsafe on their own blog.
and i genuinely don’t understand what the anon feature does to some people’s brains. who do you think you become when there’s no username attached 😭 anonymity is not invincibility. you’re still choosing to be cruel to another human being.
it’s devastating seeing people who’ve been here for years feel like they have to leave because of this. fanfic writers do not owe you anything. they certainly don’t owe you access to them, and they don’t owe you putting up with abuse because they chose to post publicly!!!
summary — ever since peter’s arachnid DNA started to change, he’s been obsessed with you. it hasn’t been easy for him considering you live right across the hall from him. he’s even having wet dreams about you. he knows you way more than you know him. not that he’d tell you that, anyway.
pairing — bnd!peter parker x fem!reader
warnings — MDNI, smut, piv, fingering, oral (both receiving), whiny & subby top!peter, unprotected sex, finishing inside, multiple orgasms, pet names, wet dreams, stalking, mask on (and off), mentions of violence, smoking, slight spoilers. i think that's it?
wc — 9.8k...
a/n — apologies if there are any errors. inspiration from strawberry moon by tori amos <3 v obsessed, highly recommend.
masterlist. | 18+ MDNI
“Thank you.. oh f-fuck thank you,” Peter whines, his pitiful voice barely coherent as he watches you take him in his mouth, head bobbing rhythmically as he lays before you on his plushy bed.
Peter’s hands seek your head, wanting to pull it closer to him, but he ultimately plants them on the bed, grasping at the sheets as if they’re some sort of lifeline. His knuckles turn white, his eyes rolling involuntarily. He can’t focus, how can he?
It’s not like this is the first time, or that he’s too nervous to make such a move… he’s thankful for anything you give him, and doesn’t want to take it for granted.
“Yes, oh god, thank you s-so m-much..”
Every time you suck him off, Peter can’t believe how fucking good it feels. He wonders how you’re so good, then quickly pushes the thought aside. He doesn’t want to think about the how or why.
Peter’s moans are fucking pitiful. Such a whiny boy with shaky thighs and rosy cheeks, the heat of it all rushing to tint his skin. You can taste the pre leaking from him, his cock pulsing against your tongue. The smirk that spreads across your lips as you lick the tip and hold eye contact with him makes Peter huff. His cheeks darken even more, his body heating rapidly at the sight of you as you take him fully again.
“Oh, please… I’m, fuck,” Peter’s pathetic attempt to warn you dies out, his hands gripping the sheets even harder, seemingly seconds away from ripping them. Another reason why he’s careful with touching you. Sometimes, he just can’t help himself. Pathetic.
When you slow down your pace just to tease him, you hear his squeaky whine, the breath being knocked from his lungs. Just as you expected. Peter gets so fucking needy, and you relish in it. It doesn’t take him very long to get close, ever, and a part of you can’t stand it because you want this too. You want to make it last just to see and hear how pitiful he gets.
“No- shit, please,” Peter whimpers, emphasizing his plea to gain some sort of sympathy from you. You oblige, gradually fastening your pace, the filthy, sloppy sounds echoing between you. He can’t help it. His hand flies to your hair, fingers lacing through the soft strands before he tugs. “I-I’m-“
Unable to properly speak, his jaw slacks and his eyelids squeeze shut. Thighs trembling, he chokes out a cry, feeling his cock pulse with each string of cum that stuffs down your throat. Then, it’s over. Just like last time.
Peter shoots up into a sitting position, gulping thickly with a huff as reality sets in. His duvet covers are thick, splayed across his lower half, which is feeling exceptionally more warm than usual. The room is dark, cold, and very much empty. He feels it instantly, the way his briefs cling to his skin, wet and warm.
“Fuck… not again,” he whimpers, peeling his briefs down just enough to expose the globs of thick cum sticking to his skin. Now this wasn’t the first time. It’s almost nightly at this point. He glances over at his door, as if you would somehow know what happened or be there. You never were. He then turns his head toward the alarm clock on his nightstand, 3:14am. “Hey evie?”
Peter’s desktop illuminates with light as numerous monitors flash on, the system starting up.
“Yes, Peter?” evie’s artificial voice responds.
“We need to make a different kinda inhibitor,” he groans, pushing the covers off his legs before getting up, making his way toward the bathroom.
Peter didn’t go back to sleep. He spent hours trying to formulate an inhibitor that would target his arachnid DNA and block hormone levels… particularly his testosterone. With a cheap Newport cigarette lit between his lips, his fingertips pattered across his keyboard, his eyes laser-focused on the screen.
With a soft chime, his phone illuminated on the desk just beside the keyboard. He quickly glanced over, scanning the words across the screen before looking at the map beneath the text, the pinned location insinuating that you’ve arrived to work.
Peter knows it’s wrong. Having secret hidden cameras around the city is one thing, but using them to watch someone that’s not a threat is another.
He tried, really fucking tried, to let it go. To stop. But he can’t.
That’s just another reason why he needs to make an inhibitor that actually fucking works.
Ever since you moved into the apartment across the hall four months ago, he hasn't been able to get you out off his mind no matter how hard he's tried. He’d often think about the first time you met, running into each other in the hall as you rush to work and he heads to get flowers for May.
All of the innocent conversations in passing, the friendly smiles and waves… He tried so fucking hard. You’re just so pretty. So sweet. God, you smell so sweet.
He can smell you from your apartment across the hall, the scent similar to fresh-picked strawberries. He fucking loves strawberries.
That wasn’t what started it, though. After the incident two months ago, with you stuck in the middle of a bank robbery, it was as if a flip had switched and caused a surgical spell. You were sweet and innocent, just trying to deposit a measly check, and next thing you knew, you had a gun pointed at you. Since then, he feels like he has an obligation to protect you — to keep you safe. Knowing you only strengthened that feeling, but your voice… your face… the way you smell. It all adds to it.
He wants to get closer to you, so fucking badly, but he just can’t with how hectic his life is. He tells himself it’s safer for you to stay acquaintances, no matter how much it bothers him.
Ever since that incident, ever since he saw your terrified expression through the lens of his mask, he had your face in his records. He specifically had evie program a separate alert system with facial recognition just for you. So when he gets a legitimate alert, he knows if you’re nearby. That's what he tries to tell himself, anyway.
If only you knew that spider-man had a special system just to keep you safe.
But that's why he needs this to work. It has to. He knows his behavior is wrong. It's weird. Fucking creepy, even...
“Smoke detected,” evie’s voice alerts, prompting a banner message across the monitor screen. Peter’s eyes roll, mentally damning Tony for implementing smoke detection into her programming.
“Just a cigarette, evie. Same as last time, and the time before that,” Peter murmured, his voice muffled from the cigarette trapped between his soft lips.
“Cigarettes can impact your vitals,” evie’s voice responds, to which Peter sighs, pulling the cigarette from his lips and smashing the end into the ashtray beside his phone, the bright amber ash crushing into a pasty grey. He wasn’t a casual smoker. It was usually during late nights or early mornings like this, where he just needed something to ground him. He hated to admit that it calmed him, or at least thought it did. Maybe it was all in his head, but either way, he knew it wasn’t good for him.
While he waits for the inhibitor to finish, Peter thinks of a few ideas on how he could test it. Truly, there’s only one way to really test it. He has to talk to you, really talk to you, without making things awkward. He needs an excuse to see you that wouldn’t lead to a “hi” and “bye” situation. He hates how his heart races every time you smile at him or even pass by him. You have his mind completely scrambled with your fingers wedged in the folds of his brain.
He’s pacing now, crossing back and forth in front of his desk with his eyes planted on the hardwood floor. His hands moved around as he spoke, a somewhat comforting expression he did during deep thought.
“Maybe… I can wait and we bump into each other in the hall? No, that’s stupid. I could just… knock? What would I say?” Peter groans at himself, covering his cheeks with his hands and slowly pulling them toward his temples. “Or I could…”
Peter’s feet come to a halt, his eyes slowly moving to his apartment door, then to his monitor. The pin on the electronic map shows you’re still out in town.
Oh, he has an idea alright.
Not a sane one, at that.
He really needs that fucking inhibitor.
Within minutes, he has his suit on and is swinging around the outside of the apartment building, his webs allowing a clean swing around the brick structure before he lands on your fire escape just outside your bedroom window.
No, this is insane.
With his eyes squinted behind his mask, he looks through your window, immediately spotting it. A beautiful silver chain necklace with a diamond pendant, carefully laid on your nightstand. The same one he sees caressing the skin of your neck every time he sees you. He recalls the way it lies against your chest, the chain slightly pooling against your collarbones. Why’d you leave it today?
No, I shouldn’t do this, he thinks, shaking his head at the reckless idea. But he couldn’t muster any real flaws in the plan. He gets your necklace, then returns it to you as himself. Not as Spider-Man. That’s innocent, right? No, it’s not.
It’s not like he’s stealing it— well, he is. But… he’s giving it back to you. It’s not a total robbery; it’s harmless.
His gloved hands latch onto your window, pushing it up with ease despite the lack of a handle. It’s as if the breath had been knocked out of his lungs, replaced by the intoxicating scent of you.
Fuck it, he thought, slipping through the open window with ease and landing on his feet with precision. His heart was thumping, but not out of nervousness. Excitement.
Glancing around your bedroom, he takes in the sight of your decor, mentally picturing and framing it inside his head against his will. He’d remember regardless.
He slowly stalks toward the nightstand, the finger pads of his gloves gently catching on the chain just before he tightens his fingers around it, holding it up at eye level. Yes, it’s the exact same one you wear all the time. Not particularly expensive looking, as far as he could tell. Not that it mattered much.
Peter felt another thump in his chest, you’ll notice it’s gone. That should’ve been enough for him to put it down. But he’s giving it back to you. Shit, what is he gonna say? That he found it in the lobby? That’s ridiculous.
Peter groans, clenching the thin chain in his fist, pressing it against his mask-covered forehead.
“This is fucking stupid,” he whispers, cursing his own thoughts. No, it’s going to work. It has to. He wants you to understand that you can trust him. He’s more than just your neighbor. He’s your secret protector, but he wouldn’t directly call himself that. He has good intentions, but that doesn’t make his actions any less wrong. He knows it too: “…and creepy.”
The skin on the nape of his neck prickles. He should put it back. This is wrong. This isn’t who he is.
Peter’s thoughts are suddenly interrupted as his head snaps up, his senses spiking. As soon as he hears the familiar jingle of your keys, his throat tightens.
Fuck.
He quickly tucks your necklace into his suit, where his phone would usually sit. Of course he forgot to grab it. Too fucking concerned about getting into your apartment, he was completely unprepared. No wonder he had no idea you were on your way back.
Peter slowly stalked back toward your window, his footsteps completely silent. As soon as his hand grasps the frame of your window, he hears a startled gasp that was awfully similar to a yelp. He whips around, seeing you in the doorway of your bedroom, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Peter’s lenses widened on his mask, emphasizing his own surprise.
For several seconds, the two of you just stared at each other.
“Oh my god.”
Think. Quick!
“Hi,” Peter greets you with a slight change in his voice, lifting a hand and giving you a small wave. He's pathetic, really.
“Spiderman?” you breathe, unsure whether you should take a step forward or a step back. The spider-man is standing in your room. You’ve seen him in person once before, your mind flashing to the incident at the bank. The way he focused on you, but never spoke to you. How could you forget?
Your expression shifts, your wide eyes narrowing slightly, eyebrows leveling and furrowing closer. Why the hell is Spider-Man in here?
“What… are you doing here?”
“Oh- aha. Just a, uh, mixup. Wrong apartment… building. Entirely. I’m a little scrambled. Hit my head on the fire escape,” Peter rambles, mustering lies while using his hands to emphasize his words since he lacked showing expression from behind the mask. His pulse is racing; he's sure you can see the way his suit shifts against his chest.
Your eyes are intensely boring into him as you take in the explanation. Strange, but believable.
“Well... are you okay?” you take a step forward, the space between you shrinking, dangerously close. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Peter feels like he’s about to fucking explode. Is he okay? No, not at all. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to see him.
“I.. yeah! I’m fine, I’ll just go—“ he stammers, turning back toward your window.
“Wait-“ you stop him, slightly lifting your hand in his direction to halt him before crossing your arms over your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder. “This might be a stupid question, especially since I'm sure hundreds of people a day, but… do you remember me?”
Peter’s eyes widen again, his mask mirroring his expression. He turns back in your direction, his eyes scanning your face. Of course he does. He knows you way more than you think. It’s not a stupid question, but kind of ridiculous considering what Peter knows about you.
Though, you’re referring to him infiltrating the bank robbery, saving you amongst other innocent civilians. A pang strikes in his chest as he remembers how terrified you were, but it quickly dissipates just being in your presence.
“Uh, well,” he ponders, quickly trying to muster a response that doesn’t sound creepy while also wanting to validate your curiosity. He mirrors you and crosses his arms over his chest, trying his best to shove his panic to the side. “Now that I think about it… yeah, I do.”
“Really?” your eyes light up, and you take a step closer, your arms falling to your sides now that you feel less strange for asking. “I just- I never got to thank you.”
“Oh, no need. You don’t have to-“
“I know,” you shrug, your lips spreading into a slight smile as you step even closer, your eyes shifting from his face to his chest, then his biceps— fuck, he’s built. “but, thank you. Really. I feel a lot safer here, living here alone and all.”
Truth is, you don’t have any family here in New York. Peter didn’t know that, though. You weren’t sure what compelled you to tell him, either. Regardless, he's Spider-Man — not a threat.
Peter’s breath hitches in his throat. This is exactly what he’s been craving; your undivided attention. He made an impact, and you made it a point to mention it. He quickly shakes it off, taking in your words.
You’re not alone here. You’re so blissfully unaware that he is the same man living across the hall from you. He tries not to think about the way he feels himself twitching against his briefs within the suit the closer you step toward him. He physically can’t help it, and it doesn’t matter how tender the conversation is. He can practically feel the warmth radiating from your body despite being just a few feet away.
He needs to leave. Now.
If he doesn’t, if he allows himself to sink into your spell any further, he’s afraid he won’t be able to help himself. He can’t avoid the filthy visuals raiding his mind, disarming him of critical consideration. Your fingers had somehow sunk even deeper in the crevices of his brain. Leave.
“O-of course! Yeah, no worries at all,” he waves you off, his voice matching his relaxed, confident persona. He climbs through the window, stepping onto the fire escape with ease. “Someone’s gotta do it.”
“Whoa, hey! You can’t just break into someone’s apartment and then leave like it's normal,” you softly scoff, arms raised at your sides to express your disagreement.
“Technically, I didn’t break anything. Just came through the window, which was unlocked,” he quips with a matter-of-fact tone, the space enabling him to finally breathe and collect his thoughts.
“How is that any better?”
Well, it’s not.
Avoid the question.
With his hands still planted firmly on the windowsill, he tilts his head at you, “Lock your window.”
Mirroring him, you tilt your head as well, raising a brow at the order, “Why, so no one else can stumble in here after getting concussed?”
“Because there are people out there who aren’t as nice as me. Now lock it, and keep it that way unless you’re home, yeah?”
It’s somewhat of a cocky response, but it’s true. He lets you sit with that for a moment, the two of you just sharing a few seconds of silence before he shoots a web to the top of the building, making a quick getaway.
You stand there astonished, still trying to comprehend the fact that you came home to find Spider-Man in your room. You wish he stayed at least a little bit longer. There was something about him that felt comforting and familiar, but you couldn’t quite figure out why. You have to admit, you feel a sense of pride at the fact that he remembers you.
If only you knew.
Two nights later, Peter is pacing around his apartment, per usual. The clock on his monitor strikes 9:34pm; he's been contemplating for hours. The more he thought about how he'd return the necklace to you, the more he realized how risky it is.
There was no way he could return it as himself, as Peter, and manage to pull off a lousy lie about how he found it.
All he can think about is how you'd figure it out. He can't risk you putting the pieces together. Fuck, why didn't he think of this beforehand?
Truth is, his behavior has been beyond risky and ridiculous. You quite literally drive him insane to the point where rational decisions are nonexistent. For a split second, he even considers moving away, saving himself the absolute torture of living beside you and not being able to do anything about it.
Deep down, he knows he would never do such a thing... but he can't involve himself personally with you, he just... can't.
He has to return your necklace, but not as Peter. He understands that, but what is he going to say?
Doesn't matter. He can say a lot more with a mask on, knowing you won't figure him out. In fact, he could just tell you he took it and face zero consequences, but what's the fun in that?
As he waits for the inhibitor that’s just nearly finished, Peter lies down on his bed, staring up at the cracked brick ceiling. Maybe a tranquilizer is what he needs. He doesn’t even realize he’s fallen asleep until evie’s voice cuts through the haze.
“Inhibitor complete. Trial number forty-seven on standby.”
Finally.
The washer in Peter’s apartment tumbled, numerous articles of clothing swishing and sloshing, covered in suds. His suit was laid flat on top, shaking along with the rumbling of the machine.
“Alright,” Peter sighs to himself, reaching around to settle the inhibitor on the back of his neck. He feels it latch on, letting out a small grunt as his eyes scan the monitor in front of him.
“Arachnid levels decreasing,” evie states as the orange-tinted bar lowers in real time.
“And my hormones?” Peter inquires, raising a brow.
“Decreasing,” evie’s responds, pulling up a second page on the screen to show various hormone levels. Peter lets out a breath of relief, nodding to himself.
“Perfect," he whispered, snatching his suit off the top of the washer.
In your bedroom, you're comfortably sprawled out, sketchbook in hand as you continue marking the thin sheet of paper with a charcoal pencil. A loud knock startles you, causing you to jump and inevitably scratch the pencil across the paper, ruining your work.
Your head whips in the direction of the sound; your window. On the other side of the glass stands Spider-Man, his arms crossed comfortably on the outside of your windowsill as he waits for your response. His suit is glistening, the loud pattering of rain bellowing in his ears.
You quickly close the sketchbook, tossing it aside before standing from the bed.
Peter would usually feel his heart racing the moment you look at him, but he feels calm. Much better. Even though you look so fucking good in your pj shorts.
Hands finding the latch, you unlock the window and push it up, opening it swiftly. The sound of the rain pattering loudly against the fire escape and nearby streets is much clearer now. Before you can even ask why he's here, his voice shuts you down,
“Good girl,” he drawls out in a high teasing tone, voice still quippy and unrecognizable. You blink, your lips parting slightly, but no words come out. What an introduction.
That's the first thing he says? Not that you can complain. You'd be lying if you denied the way it made your stomach twist deliciously.
“W-What?”
“You locked the window.”
You let out a breath, unable to contain your smile and the slight tint in your cheeks. Face flushing, you turn away from the window to make your way back toward your bed, sitting on the edge of it.
“You scared the shit out of me. I can’t keep seeing you like this, you know,” you say, which catches him completely off guard. You can't see it, but a sense of hurt mixed with panic flicks in his eyes before he can control it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean with you, at my window, uninvited,” you explain. Peter’s mouth opens slightly, words dying in his throat. Before he has a chance to panic further, your next words take him by surprise. “Come in.”
“What?”
“I said come in. You can’t be uninvited when I’m telling you I want you here,” you add softly. You took the chance, throwing the ball into his court for him to catch.
Was it bold? Yes. Did he find it hot? Also yes.
Feeling an instant wave of relief, you hear a cute, "Oh," before he chuckles, slipping through your window, his feet landing effortlessly on your bedroom floor as he stands upright. He takes in the environment, your ambient lighting causing the droplets of water on his suit to reflect even brighter.
"Care to tell me why you've blessed me with your presence again? Everything okay?" you ask jokingly, yet still surprised by his sudden return. It's been two days, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about him since then. That’s what he hoped, at least.
"I was just coming to check on you," he lies, standing still so as not to get any of your belongings wet. Besides your floor, of course.
“Why?”
“Because someone broke into your apartment.”
Another lie.
“That was you."
“I meant the building.”
“Still applies.”
“I’m aware,” he quips, the eyes of his mask squinting playfully at you as he tilts his head slightly. You snicker. This back-and-forth game gives him a rush he hasn’t felt in a while. He feels much more confident this time, much more willing to play such a game.
That fucking smirk, he thinks.
“Well, as you can see,” you start, holding your arms up at your sides. “I’m fine.”
Peter tsks, sucking his teeth slightly as he steps toward you, almost as if he's sizing you up. "Well, that's not the only reason I'm here."
You watch as he lifts his hand, loosening the grip of his fingers to release the chain in his fist, dangling it in front of you. Your necklace.
"Oh my god," you softly gasp, reaching for the silver chain and grasping it from his hold. "How did you... Wait, did you take this?"
Now he's panicking.
"W-what? No, no. I found it," he lies again, his tone strong but his legs are feeling a bit weak. Shit.
"...In my room?"
"No," he laughs, trying to muster an explanation before you can dig any deeper. His heart is thundering so fast, he can feel it in his veins, causing him to twitch slightly. "Why would I steal from you?"
Good thing you're gullible enough to believe Spider-Man wouldn't steal from you. Because that's not who he is, right?
"Where was it?"
He rehearsed this, but the way you're looking at him makes it impossible to mutter out a lie. On the ground outside of Delmar’s? No. Fuck it.
"Don't worry about it."
"But how did you know-"
"I've seen you wear it," he admits, unable to control the smile spreading across his lips beneath the mask.
You don't think much of it. He must’ve recognized it from the bank. Opening the clasp, you reach behind you to latch it around the back of your neck, the necklace now resting against your collarbones, the pendant nearly reaching your cleavage. You twist slightly to face away from him, “Can you help me, please?”
He doesn’t answer, immediately grasping the ends from your delicate fingers. His gloved fingers graze the nape of your neck, and he notices the instant goosebumps that litter your skin. He struggles at first, the chain being so small and not having much to work with, but he manages, “anddd... got it.”
You turn back and smile up at him, at his figure standing directly in front of you, head peering down at you.
You felt incredibly inferior, watching him stare with his head tilted in such a way, like you were some sort of prey. If only you could see what's underneath the mask.
"Thanks. I owe you one, again,” you smile, eyes fluttering up at him. His stomach is doing somersaults.
"We talked about this. You don’t owe me anything," he quickly responds, referring to your last conversation. All in all, he’s grateful to return it without consequences. He appreciated the gratitude, but he didn’t expect a damn thing from you. Just the ability to see you.
Pausing, unable to form a proper response, you gaze up at him. Never, ever would you have thought you would be in this position before. Especially with him being so intimately close to you.
You stand, instantly feeling the heat radiating from him. He’s so close. Less than a foot away, chests just barely touching. His posture is steady as he awaits your next move, shocking even himself. If it weren't for his inhibitor, his mind would be going absolutely nuts.
"I know," you finally murmur a response, your eyes searching for his, but all you can see is white mesh. You lift your hand, instinctively trying to reach for him, but you stop yourself. He doesn't move.
You do it anyway. Your hand finds rest at his jaw, your thumb softly rubbing over the ridges of the mask. What is it about him that gets you so?
Is it that he saved you? No...
Maybe the fact that he remembered you and made it a point to make you safe.
It's not like you could stay casual after hearing him praise you like that.
"You... you should probably stop," he warns softly, but doesn't pull away from you. He knows you can feel his chest thundering just a mere inch from you. Despite that, the inhibitor was working, because if it wasn't... you'd definitely not be standing any longer.
"Do you want me to?"
He doesn't answer immediately, his eyes intently focusing on yours through his mask. Is that even a question? It's not like he could just tell you that this is practically torture for him.
"No."
That's just enough for you to raise your other hand, fully grasping his jaw on both sides to get a good look at his mask. Curiosity gets the best of you, your thumb reaching down and gently tugging at the edge of his mask beneath his neck. You just want to feel his skin, feel how warm he is. Feel how real he is.
In a flash, his hand wraps around your wrist, stopping your hand in place.
"Hey, hey. I didn't say you could do that," his tone is playful but his thoughts are a complete contrast, his grip tight on your wrist, but not too tight. Just enough to convey the message. God, he wanted to let you, though. So fucking bad.
It’s too risky. No matter how badly he wants to.
Even if he only shows his lips, he’s sure you’d recognize them after so many small talks. After so many exchanged smiles.
"Then how am I supposed to..." you trail off, the word kiss dying in your throat as your eyes trail down to where his lips would be beneath the mask, then down to where his hand is wrapped around your wrist, his grip firm but soft. He understands immediately.
"You don't."
It killed him to say it.
"I can't kiss you?"
"No."
Your lips curl into a small frown. You understand and respect his boundaries, but you can't deny how much you've thought about this. Rehearsed this. Ever since you caught him in your room, you couldn't help the thoughts that pooled in the moment he left. The fact he'd saved you once before only strengthened that.
What if he just took you, right then and there? God, that's fucked up. You knew that, but... the way you'd feel your core twist and get damp, fuck.
I mean, who doesn't want to fuck him? He's a hero. He's sweet. He's incredibly muscular, and his suit only accentuates that. You could go on and on.
It's not crazy to think about. You're not the only one that thinks this either, confirmed by the many reddit forum threads you dove down after he left. But, you are the only one to have this kind of luxury. The luxury of him being in your room, so close to you, touching you
"You're right, I'm-" you cut yourself off, taking a step back as you rethink your actions. What the hell are you doing? You don't even know him. You're being ridiculous - pathetic, even. You shake your head at yourself, shyly plastering your hand over your face. "I'm so sorry-”
"No, no, don’t be,” he whispers, releasing your wrist from his grasp, shaking his head. If this is his chance, he’d be a goddamn fool to pass it up.
“I can’t kiss you, but..” he continues, his hands moving to find your waist, gently gripping your soft skin through your soft, silky shirt. "I can touch you.”
No, he shouldn’t be doing this. He should’ve left right after giving you the necklace. This wasn’t part of the plan at all.
Tilting your head back up, you peer at him through the gaps of your fingers, your cheeks tinted rosy pink.
“Wha.. what?”
It's a bold move, he knows that. At least it's something he can actually give you.
Slowly, he backs you up, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed, inevitably making you fall back down into a sitting position. He leans down, hands planting on your plushy covers on either side of your thighs. You’re trapped.
“You heard what I said. I can touch you— I want to touch you,” he repeats, his teasing grin beneath the mask widening as he watches your eyes melt. Despite his rather audacious idea, Peter truly didn’t have a dominant bone within him. Not when it came to sex, anyway.
He would try for you, though. If that’s what you wanted.
The heat radiating from your skin through your shirt was a clear sign of just how much he was affecting you. You don’t know he can tell, but he does. He can sense it. He can smell it.
Despite how much he’s wanted this, how much he’s been dreaming of this, he couldn’t shake the thought in the back of his mind that this wasn’t right. This feels too fast. No real connection. No romance.
But if you want this just as much as he does, he’s not fucking leaving.
“I…” you start, your words absolutely failing you. You feel so small below him, so vulnerable. An idea sparks, and there’s a particular glint in your eye. Fine, you can play that game. “If I can’t see you, then you can’t touch me until I say so.”
Oh.
Peter wasn’t expecting that. Not by a long shot.
“Oh really?” he murmurs, his purr causing you to instinctively squeeze your thighs together. You’re fucking leaking. Maybe he can… just only when you tell him to. You’re calling the shots. His padded fingers move to gently caress your jaw, softly grasping your chin. “You sure about that?”
Who is he kidding? Peter knows he would be a fucking mess if you told him when he could and couldn’t feel you or take control of himself. He loves seeing you flustered, though. It’s a sight he will never forget.
You grab his hand, pulling it away from your chin before pushing him over to land beside you. He lets you, allowing himself to plop down on the bed, his legs still hanging off the edge. He stabilizes himself, sitting up to grab your waist as you straddle him.
Just before his hands can make contact with you, you quickly grab his wrists, shaking your head at him with a grin, “Nu-uh.”
“That’s not very fair.”
“You heard what I said.”
Peter let’s put a short, weak huff of protest at you using his own words against him. You’re fully aware that he’s much stronger than you could ever be, and yet he was letting you control him. You release his wrists, pressing a hand against his chest, pushing him down until his back is against the bed.
Softly grinding your hips on his way down, you could feel him twitching and hardening against your clothed cunt, his suit failing him tremendously.
“Shit, you’re that easy?” you tease, moving your hips back and forth, the friction only worsening the wet spot forming on your panties, seeping to your shorts. He could feel it.
“F-fuck, so are you,” he whimpers in defense, unable to control how pathetic he is from the change in dynamic, his gloved fingers grasping at the blanket to avoid touching you without permission. “You’re so wet.”
“You can feel that?” you smile, leaning forward to cup his jaw, running your thumb over his mask-covered lips. You lift yourself up, and he whines at the loss of contact. A playful smirk tugs at your lips, “Aw, don’t be like that.”
Your hand moves from his face and down his chest until you feel his abs, feeling them twitch beneath your touch. You need to see him.
“Take it off,” you demand softly, removing yourself from his lap and moving to lay properly on the bed, watching as he struggles to regain himself to stand. Once he does, you watch him discard the suit, taking note of the way the cloth tightly hugs his muscles until it’s gone. Your eyes light up as soon as his abs are exposed, you almost want to throw the whole game out the window and have him take you. But you had to admit, watching him struggle and fall apart was even better.
Your eyes trail down to his briefs, the large tent exposing just how much he needs you. Of course, he kept the mask on. He stands there, unsure of what to do, suit discarded to the floor.
You twist your wrist, motioning for him to come closer with your finger, curling it toward you. His drops his bare hands to the bed, carefully crawling onto your covers until he’s hovering over you.
“Now take mine off.”
Holy fuck.
Swallowing thickly, Peter’s hands shift to the hem of your shirt, wanting to slip them underneath and touch your warm, bare skin. He contains himself just enough. He gently pulls your shirt up, his heartbeat picking up once again. He pushes it above your waist, exposing your bra that's so pretty and lacy. Almost as if you'd planned this already.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers to himself, the barrier of the mask making it difficult for you to hear. You don't bother having him repeat himself, lifting your back slightly to allow him to pull your shirt over your head.
He reaches to grab your clothed breast, eyes wide and hungry, but he stops himself. Still lifted, you unclasp your bra and before you can even move another inch, he's tugging it off you, the straps easing off your shoulders.
"Shit," he nearly moans, the sight enough to have him leaking. He's already throbbing, it's almost painful. He wants to touch them, to squeeze your plushy skin, but you haven't told him to yet. "You're so pretty. You know how fucking pretty you are?"
"I've been told," you smile irresistibly, your shoulders lifting slightly in a shrug. You've been told? By who?
Stop it, he thinks to himself, to his own thoughts. He has you right here, underneath him.
His hands shift downward, eager and cold, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shorts. He doesn’t waste any time. As he tugs your shorts down your thighs, you hear a pitiful, muffled whimper. You look down to see his thumb just barely grazing the wet spot on your panties.
God, you smell so sweet.
“Please,” he whimpers again, his fingers hovering over the side of the thin cotton, wanting to pull them aside. You smile, your hand lowering and wrapping around his to guide his hand, having him push them over, exposing your slick folds.
"Go on," you nod, slightly condescending and full of pity as you hand-over-hand guide him further, allowing his finger to graze before pushing closer, his finger slipping between your wet slit and making a filthy squelch.
“Pretty,” he huffs. He’s fucking vibrating. Every bone in his body, his mind, everything is telling him to just take you. He’s being good, though. You have to give him that credit.
He pushes his finger inside you, a puff of air being knocked out of his lungs as he feels your walls hug around it. You’re tight. He curls it inside you, earning a tiny moan from you as you buck your hips up ever so slightly. All restraint is lost.
“Oh, god,” you whimper softly, melting beneath him. You sound so pretty. He can’t take it. He can’t keep holding back. He needs you to break and give in fully.
Peter’s free hand moves to your lower stomach, pressing down to hold you in place as his finger works inside you, pumping slowly yet deliciously loud.
“S-shit, so wet. So fucking wet,” he murmurs to himself, easing in a second finger. It almost feels like he’s done this before, or it’s just from the spike in confidence after hearing the pretty noises you make.
Softly biting your lower lip, you try to grasp his hand, wanting to stop him just to tease him but he surprises you. Quickly, moves his free hand to grab yours before holding it down against your stomach, on the same spot that his was previously. “J-Just.. wait. Please, let me.”
Of course, you give in. Peter experiments, pumping his fingers as deep as he can, the veins in his hands prominent. He watches, completely mesmerized, at the way your pussy sucks in his fingers, accepting them, your juices leaking around them. The filthy sound your pussy’s making combined with that warm squeeze — he can’t wait any longer.
If you smell this good, he can only imagine how you taste. He needs to know. He pulls his hand back, looking up at you.
“Please… Cover your eyes,” he demands in a gentle tone, waiting until you cover them with your forearm, your back resting comfortably against your plushy sheets. He pulls the mask up just enough to expose his lips, raw and plump from him biting them, trying to keep himself from sounding utterly fucking pathetic.
He doesn’t even bother properly removing your panties first, he just keeps them held to the side as he dives down. You gasp, feeling his tongue dip between your folds, collecting your wetness on his tongue before swiping it up to your clit. You taste just as sweet as he thought you would; even more so.
He groans against you, the vibrations shooting straight into your core. His lips wrap around your sensitive bud, pulling a loud, unapologetic moan from your throat. The pretty sound causes his cock to twitch against his briefs, his hips starting to slowly rutt into the mattress. He’s ravenous.
“Fuck, you taste so sweet... so good.. s'good,” he slurs incoherently, his tongue working almost expertly, swirling around your sensitive bud with such focus, softly sucking then lapping at it. Over and over.
You feel his fingers push inside you again, your mouth falling open with a pitiful cry. His mouth works meticulously with his fingers, feeling your orgasm creeping closer, the spindle in your core tightening with each passing second.
“My fucking g-god, you’re… you’re doing so good,” you breathe between your words, your chest rising and falling rapidly as he laps at your messy cunt like a little puppy. He whimpers against you, his fingers curling each time he sucks around your bud. The friction he's created, rutting his cock against the mattress, he's already fucking close.
So are you. It shocks you, really. You’ve never had someone get you so close so quickly. It’s like he was made for this.
“Shitshit, I’m— fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you squeak softly, whimpering when you feel his free hand on your waist, his fingers squeezing your soft, plushy skin. He keeps the same pace, not wanting to ruin this for you. He can feel you squeezing around his fingers that are expertly pumping inside you, curling deliciously to graze your sweet spot. “F-fuck!”
Your thighs squeeze together, trapping his face against your messy cunt as you start to cum, your eyes blowing wide. You’re shaking, and not just because of the force of his fingers ramming into you, working you through your orgasm. Peter can feel how hard you’re breathing, his thumb rising and falling on your stomach as he keeps his grip on your waist firm, holding you.
Just as you start to reach down for his head to pull it closer, he pulls away from you, the filthy pop of his lips disconnecting from your clit echoing between you.
"Shit, what's wrong?"
"Nothings wrong," he responds a little too quickly.
You can hear the rustling of him pulling his mask back down, your heart jumping in your chest.
“You can look now,” he breathes, moving to hover above you, his cock throbbing against your thigh within the confines of his briefs. You’re still panting as you move your arm away to see him hovered above you, your eyes searching his through the mask. “Did I do a good job?”
“Such a good job,” you huff, a smile pulling at the corner of your lips. Your hand instantly moves down to his clothed cock, your fingers curling around him. You feel the definition, and how much he’s throbbing.
Nearly instantly, he’s whimpering. You feel his two fingers, still wet and messy from you, pushing against your lips. You were hoping to taste yourself on his tongue, but this’ll do. You part them, sucking them as soon as they touch your tongue.
Peter didn’t expect it to feel so good, the way your tongue wraps around his fingers makes his head spin. You hadn’t even really touched him yet and he’s a leaking, moaning mess.
Taking him by surprise, you slip your hand into his briefs, your soft fingers wrapping around him to slowly stroke him as you continue sucking on his fingers. His eyes roll, his head tilting back slightly as he relishes in the feeling. It’s just like how he imagined it.
Despite being unable to see his face, you can tell he’s falling apart. You swear it’s like he knows what he’s doing, but has never been touched before. Maybe he really is just that pathetic.
You start to fasten the pace of your hand, but just as you start, he’s just as quick to stop you.
“S-stop,” he whimpers, pulling his fingers from your mouth and lifting his hips. You retract your hand, and before you can ask what happened, he’s quick to continue, “I’m already getting close.”
What?
He pushes his briefs down the rest of the way, kicking them off. You see the way his cock springs free, aching red and already leaking precum at the tip. In an instant, he's hovering over you again, his cock just mere inches from you. From where you want him the most.
“You poor thing-” your teasing is cut short when you feel his arms wrap around your thighs, pulling them closer to him. You gasp, eyebrows raising as he softly grinds his tip against your slit free-handed. He’s rushing and he knows it. He can’t fucking help it.
You wanted to degrade him, to remind him of his rules, but he's just so desperate. So needy. It's a pretty sight.
“J-Just tell me when I can, please,” he huffs, his tip rubbing between your folds causing a filthy squelching sound. His eyes are focused on your pretty cunt, at the way his tip fits perfectly against your slit before he starts to push in, “Oh my god, fuck, please. Tell me. Tell me I can—“
"Of course you can, baby. Touch me," you purr teasingly, your hands move to his hips, gently tugging to pull him even closer. The pet name nearly makes him rut, but he's hanging on to the last thread of control he has left. He pushes in slowly, the pitiful sound he makes nearly making you gush.
"O-oh my, fuck. Thank you. Shit, you're so tight," he whines, pushing into you slowly, watching your pussy take him, sucking him in inch by inch. Your hands tighten on his hips, your nails sinking into his taut skin.
“Feels so good, doesn’t it?” you purr, intently watching the way his movements stutter at your teasing. He can't take it. He can't fucking take it anymore.
"Yes, yes. Feels so fucking good," he whimpers, pushing in the rest of the way before bottoming out completely with his hips snug against yours. The feeling makes your eyes roll slightly, your head tilting back against the pillow.
When you move to roll your hips against his, his hands fly from your thighs to your waist, pushing you slightly up the bed with such ease, stopping your movements, "S-stop, stop."
You look up at him, naturally searching for his eyes through the mask, "It's okay, we can stop."
"No, I just," he grunts, his hips shaking slightly as he fights to control himself. "I need a second."
“Okay,” you nod softly, lifting a hand from his hips to wrap it around the side of his throat, your thumb gently caressing his adam’s apple. He swallows thickly, and you feel it bob under your touch.
With the remnants of your orgasm still rippling through you, you can’t control the way your cunt flutters around him. Fuck, is he gonna have to cum before he can keep going? He wants this to last.
Slowly, his hips start rolling against yours, “I-I’m okay, sorry, m’sorry,” he whispers, looking back down at where you’re connected before rambling on.
"You have no idea-" he grunts, eyes locked onto the way his cock is fully stuffed inside you, your pussy taking him so good. So wet and eager. He pulls his hips back until his cock slips out halfway, glistening with your juices before he slowly pushes back in, listening to the filthy sound it makes, "-how much I've thought about this."
His hands are still tightly gripping your waist as his hips work to keep a steady pace. He doesn't want to go too fast, he can’t. This is so embarrassing.
Your eyes light up at the admission, hand still gently wrapped around the side of his neck, “Shit. I’m- me too.”
His ears perk, his hips never faltering. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, your response making him whimper.
“I want to see you,” you whisper, your fingers slipping down to the edge of his mask at the base of his neck. “Let me kiss you.”
He stills. Is it too risky? At this point, how would a kiss be more ridiculous than him literally eating you out?
Well, it’s not, but it’s too much risk.
“You can’t.”
“Why? You don’t have to tell me your name.”
“That’s not the problem.”
“Then what is?”
How is he supposed to answer that?
His hands leave your waist, leaving your skin cold. He slips a hand underneath you, between your back and the mattress, lifting you enough to press your chest against his. Your face rests just above his shoulder as his hips continue thrusting against yours, deep and slow. His arm stays there, tightly holding you against him, your eyes struggling to stay focused. That’s when you hear it.
With his free hand, he pulls the mask off, but purposely holding you close enough that he could hide his face over your shoulder.
“Y-You really don’t trust me?” you manage with a moan, feeling his bare chest tighten against yours at the accusation.
“That’s not it,” he groans softly against the side of your neck, his lips finally touching the skin of it, warm and wet. You feel his cock twitch inside you, your eyes hooded with the inability to focus.
“Mmh, then what is it?”
“I trust you. I don’t trust what might happen.”
“Please.”
“I can’t, f-fuck,” he whimpers against your skin, his hips starting to fasten in pace at the sound of your plea. The filthy fucking sounds your pussy is making is driving him insane, his cock easing in and out effortlessly. You know there’s no winning this.
You wrap your arms above his shoulders and around his back, holding him as you tuck your chin into the crevice between his neck and shoulder. You feel him breathing into your neck, his breath shaky and weak. That oh-so familiar scent has Peter’s head spinning.
“You smell so good. I fucking dream about this, about you,” he pathetically admits, voice weak and breath hot against your neck. “Y-You- fuck, you make me fucking cum in my sleep. Make me- agh, wake up all messy.”
He’s losing it. He’s so vulgar.
He hears your gasp, so close and soft beside his ear, it sends a chill down his spine.
“It’s pathetic, isn’t it?” he whimpers, his voice barely audible when all you can focus on is how much of a loud fucking mess he’s making of your poor cunt. “I dream about fucking you, just like this, making you cum around me, s-shit.”
The thought has his hips stuttering before he picks up the pace even more, his hips smacking yours with a force that causes your body to jolt with each thrust. His grip is tight as he holds you, feeling you jolt against him all while he whimpers in your ear, struggling to not look at you. His other hand remains on your waist, helping to stabilize you as he fucks into you. The filthy squelching of your cunt grows even louder, and you feel the vibrations of a low growl against your neck, “F-Fucking god, do you hear it?”
“Mh-m, yes,” you moan, your nails digging into the skin of his back. Peter wouldn’t be able to explain the sudden confidence boost, particularly with his words.
“S’fucking messy,” he whimpers, your wetness splashing on his thighs after each deep thrust, dribbling down his skin. You feel his lips connect with the side of your neck, sucking a harsh love mark into your skin before softly licking it to soothe it. He does it again, over and over, his pitiful noises vibrating against your throat.
Your eyes roll at the feeling, your senses overloading. You feel your core tightening, your second orgasm growing dangerously close.
“I’m gonna… mmph, fuck, I-I’m close,” you moan into his ear, your pussy milking him with each jolt he causes. With the arm wrapped around your back, he pulls you closer. With his other, he releases your waist, his free hand moving to grab your arm and guide your hand down to your stomach. Pressing his hand on top of yours, he forces you to feel your lower stomach.
You feel it immediately, your stomach bulging slightly with each pump of his cock. He’s in your fucking guts.
“Y’feel it? Feel me in your tummy?” he moans softly in you ear, his pathetic expression one that he’d be embarrassed for you to see. There’s no way you don’t feel it, even he can as he holds your hand down against your rapidly bulging skin. “Feel me filling y’up.”
That was a statement. A demand. Your eyes roll back again, your body growing weak in his hold as he takes complete control. You don’t have any fight left in you to tease him. You’re so fucking close, facing an internal conflict with the need to cum and the desire to keep going.
“Fill me up,” you whimper, rolling your hips against his, purposely squeezing your pussy around him, wanting to milk every last drop. “I wanna feel you cum.”
“O-oh my, haah, g-god, aaagh,” Peter instantly whines, his mouth parting open as he starts driving into you faster, pounding his hips into yours. It wasn’t supposed to go like this.
He was being so good, now he’s rushing just because you told him to fill your pretty cunt with his cum?
How pathetic can he get?
“You’re doing so fucking good,” you praise softly, feeling him fuck into you even deeper with your hand still prisoned between his and your stomach. That’s all he needed.
“S-shit, t-thank you,” he whines louder, his voice cracking in your ear as his chest tightens against yours, his breath growing shallow. He doesn’t have time to warn you before he’s cumming. “Thankyouthankyou, fuck!”
His cock twitches with each spurt of thick, warm ropes of cum stuffing inside you. The pathetic sounds he’s making and the feeling of his cum filling you up is enough for you to break, your pussy spasming around him uncontrollably. Your body goes slack against him, thighs trembling as you gasp like all the air in your lungs was violently knocked out.
What’s shocking is he doesn’t stop. His hips keep moving, pistoning relentlessly as he keeps cumming. Your pussy can only contain so much, the leftovers of cum leaking out of you, bubbling around your slit and making a filthy mess each time he pulls his hips back and thrusts back in. It’s like he purposely wants to overfill it, to stuff you full and keep fucking it back into you, not wanting to waste it.
With your limbs weak and achy, you’re completely limp, but that doesn’t mean you want to stop. You lift your hand from your stomach, lacing your fingers with his before he plants your hand back down against your plushy skin, not letting up. You move your other hand from his back to the nape of his neck, barely grazing his hair as your fingers unintentionally land on his inhibitor.
Oh dear.
“F-fuck, don’t. Don’t touch that,” he struggles, a whiny moan escaping him as he feels your pussy squeezing him so fucking tight. He pulls his hand from yours on your stomach, quickly moving to grab your wrist, but it's already too late.
He feels it detach from his skin.
You didn’t mean to, only wanting to grab onto him, but it catches onto your fingers and slides out of place.
“Shit!” he grunts, his free hand moving to cover your eyes. He sits up, still inside you as he looks around for the inhibitor that’s now fallen and out of sight.
“W-what! What was that?”
“Just- don’t move,” he pleads, his head twisting as his eyes search the bunched up sheets. “Fuck, where did it go?”
“Please, just let me see you,” you beg, your hand moving to grab onto his that’s blocking your vision.
“N-no! Just hold on a second—“
“Peter.”
Oh, no.
He stills completely, eyes widening as he takes in hearing his name coming from your mouth. His ears start ringing.
“Peter, I know it’s you.”
“What? That’s… not my name,” he lies, eyes still wide, his cheeks flushing rosy red.
“Inhibitor complete. Trial number forty-seven on standby.”
This can't be happening.
“What did you say?”
Peter gasps, his back shooting up from his bed. Eyes wide, heart pounding. He’s in his room. Peter’s hand quickly moves up to graze the back of his neck. His skin is damp, a cold chill creeping through him at the realization he never had the inhibitor on.
No, no, no. It felt so real.
Whipping his head in the direction of his monitor, he sees the notification that the inhibitor is complete, blinking across the screen. The same notification he swore he already saw. But he didn’t.
When he laid down for that nap at nine, he never truly woke up.
How did he possibly wake up from a nap, put the inhibitor on, and go see you, all within one dream? It made sense, considering how fast things escalated and how he knows what your bedroom like looks now, but…
Something is wrong. It felt too fucking real.
He glances over at his nightstand, the clock blinking 6:26am. Beside his alarm clock was… nothing. No, he could’ve sworn that’s where he put your necklace, carefully laid on the stained wood.
What is going on?
That’s when he feels it. The dampness in his briefs, warm and sticky. His hands fly to his face, a frustrated groan bellowing from him.
“Fuck!”
a/n: phew… this was a big one. forgive me for the sloppy sex, i wanted it to feel natural & unnatural at the same time since he was ‘dreaming’ about it. did you catch on?? (feel free to send in requests <3)
his dumbass isn't even shy about it, he actually loves it. he also loves the way it turns you on, he loves watching your mouth water at the sight of his chubby cock spewing and spewing drop after drop of pre.
he'll even tease you. he'll place his fat tip right on your slit then he'll hump your pussy; coating it with all his sticky pre until you're a mess and your eyes are watering from all the teasing. "look at ya. so fuckin' perfect covered in my fucking pre. aren't you a dirty fuckin' girl. so fuckin' messy, I may have to fill ya." he'd say before plunging his cock in your tight pussy, then he'd cum buckets and buckets and stare at the mess that's leaking out of you when he pulls out.
he'd love to paint you too. your face, tits, ass, literally anywhere!! if you're sucking/jerking him off, the moment he's about to cum he'll make to move his dick so it's aimed to paint you somewhere in his thick ropes and ropes of gooey cum. he'd groan at the aftermath and swipe some up on his fingers and order you to clean them up.
he loves to fill you up. it makes him so horny to watch his cum leak out of you (like how I also mentioned above), especially because of how much he does cum. he'll keep filling up until you're whining about how full you are and how tight your tummy feels while he's plowing another load into you. he's able to go at least four rounds before he starts to cum less and less, but even after so he'll continue to fill him up and call you his little cum slut.
absolutely will plug you with a fucking plug. he needs to keep his cum in you. the thought of you walking around the house doing simple chores or tasks with his cum filling your pussy; has him ready to fill you with another load again. sometimes he won't even let you wear panties or bottoms so if you bend over to do anything he'll be able to see the plug that's keeping his warm cum right in your pretty pussy where it belongs <3
an: oh and and and another thing! (someone requested this, so here is to you anon!!)
but it's not his fault, okay? eating your pussy just shuts his brain off. like his whole fucking body just relax. it's the only time he's not thinking about shit. just warmth and wet and you.
and he's down there for hours so yeah he gets sleepy. your thighs are so soft around his head he can't hear anything outside them. just the wet little sounds and your breathing. your smell is all over his face and he loves it. loves sucking your clit slow and lazy, tongue flat and heavy. groaning into you just to feel you shake.
he already made you cum twice. he's on his knees on the floor, face pressed into you so deep his nose is smushed against your pubic bone, drool and your slick all down his chin. you're gripping his hair tight, grinding down on his mouth.
fuck you're so close.
right there right there right there—
his tongue slows.
his jaw goes slack.
huh?
he fell asleep already.
mouth still open. lips still wrapped around your clit, sucking weakly. letting out soft little snores.
it's okay. you already got permission. he said you can use his face to get off if he ever fall asleep.
so just grab his hair and ride his face until you cum. use his nose, his tongue, whatever. he's out cold. won't wake up until you're shaking.
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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⤷ kiribaku x fem!mermaid!reader ノ fantasy au ⸝⸝ severe storms ⸝⸝ severe head injury ⸝⸝ vague violence description ⸝⸝ belief of fate ⸝⸝ falling in love in short time periods ⸝⸝ bit of angst ⸝⸝ not proofread
this coming storm was to be the worst in many years. storms like it occurred every fifty years, almost perfectly to the day. it almost appeared as if the elements would fight, at the expense of nature’s beautiful creatures. the elders gathered everyone days in advance, telling them to prepare—gather food, reinforce your homes with stone if not already done so, and ensure you stay inside when it arrives.
foolishly, you went far out—hoping to find more bountiful schools of fish. you had gone despite your mother’s worries and fear, despite her pleads to stay close so you could return safely. you were too deep to notice the beginning drops of rain. you didn’t notice until the sea became dark, freakishly dark for the time of day.
you swam up, hoping you had just knowingly swam too deep, but you were wrong. the water at the surface was lashing in rough waves, soot was lifting from shore, obscuring your vision in moments. your second eyelids kept it from your eyes, but that didn’t stop it from making the water murky.
the panic set in. you couldn’t see and you were far from home, in the midst of a storm that only happened every fifty years. you began swimming in the general direction of your colony, hoping to find the glow of their sea lanterns through the soot.
but, you swam right into a current. you had been near it before; usually it was easy to escaped. the storm had strengthened it and, before you knew it, you were being whisked away. you tried to fight, but attempts were feeble. your fight only ceased when your head crashed against a large stone.
being mid journey during such a dangerous storm was foolish. katsuki scolded himself as he and eijirou sat on elevated rocks of a cave. he should had remembered this would occur, he had been reading of it since childhood.
despite the barbarian’s worry, eijirou remained cheerful.
“i’ll just fly us if the ground’s too wet,” he beamed, attempting to brighten the mood.
“and risk poachers seeing you? no, shitty scales.”
the dragon pouted, huffing as he glanced away. so much for trying to lighten the prince’s mood.
the storm raged on. rain slammed against the outside of the cave, falling sideways from the whipping winds. the path outside was mud, water running down the slightly downhill slope. water was beginning to dribble into the cave, the lip at the opening preventing a rush.
it continued throughout the night. katsuki remained awake, watching to see if the cave would begin to flood. eijirou laid beside him, fast asleep, back facing the prince. he had draped his tail over katsuki’s leg, as if to ground and calm him. his body was entirely lax, aside from the slight shift with each breath and obnoxious snore that left him.
the storm continued throughout most of the following day as well. only stopping at sundown. rather than lingering, they left immediately. traversing through the knee high water at the bottom of the cave, they emerged. they dealt with the soggy ground, a bit more careful of where they stepped.
as they continued through the forests, they witnessed the aftermath of the storm. trees had been cracked down the center, splitting in two. some broke at the middle and fell over. branches were strewn about. animals’ burrows had been flooded and ruined, leaving many to scurry about in search of a new home.
it was awful what nature could go, despite all the glory she brought.
“there’s a river ahead,” eijirou pointed out, having spotting the water glinting in the remaining bits of sunlight.
“we can…wash off a bit,” he gestured to their mud-covered legs.
the barbarian nodded, but his silence remained, “we’re not lingering too long, shitty scales. we have to keep moving.”
they approached the river, setting their belongings on a rock upon shore. they stripped of most of their garments, sliding into the water. it smelt of saltwater rather than fresh water. it must have been connected to the ocean, or ocean water had seeped into it during the storm.
while looking about, the dragon noticed something. something glistening within the water. it was too large to be a fish or shell, but it shimmered differently than the water itself. he began approaching it, walking against the current.
katsuki caught his arm.
“what the hell are you doing, you overgrown lizard?” he demanded.
“that could be someone injured,” eijirou protested, worry evident in his voice. he had the biggest heart katsuki had ever heard beat. it was disgusting at times.
with a grumble of disapproval, the barbarian followed his companion. upon coming into view, the moonlight illuminated what laid there. a mermaid, upper half thrown onto shore, tail caught under a rock but still submerged in water. your head bled, a large gash across your forehead. the only sign of life was the every so faint rise and fall of your chest.
without hesitation, eijirou reached into the water, large hands gripping the rock that trapped your tail. with the ease of only a creature of his size and strength, he moved it away, freeing your tail. the appendage was damaged, some scales torn off and the webbing of the largest fin ripped from pulling on rocks.
“she must’ve been swept up in the storm,” the dragon commented, gently lifting you. he began rinsing the mud from your back and arms, rinsing the blood from your face as well. you remained unconscious, seemingly still far from waking.
“obviously, shitty scales,” katsuki retorted, reaching into his satchel for bandages. after eijirou had cleaned the wound, the prince wrapped your head carefully. it was odd to see him so gentle.
you roused shakily, but upon feeling the warm arms around you, you began lashing. hisses fell from your lips, sharp teeth that were typically only used to tear apart fish bared. your vision was still blurry, but the fear overtook all else.
eijirou released you, letting you squirm off. you were cut short by the throb of your head and the pain in your tail.
“damn fish,” katsuki muttered, pressing his hand against a gash on his side from your fins’s spines.
the water was too shallow for your to properly swim. you were disoriented, not sure how you got here or how to get home. when the dragon attempted to approach you, your hands pushed through the silt to move your body.
“we just want to help,” he insisted, voice soft, “we can get you healed, and get you home.”
you were still wary, but you accepted their help. the ocean couldn’t be that far. upon checking the map, you realized it was far, you had been pulled so far in that storm. you mother must have been worried sick.
“how the hell are we supposed to move her?” katsuki asked over a fire, a good few paces from shore, where your lower half was still submerged in water.
“closest town’s a few days’ travel away, getting a wagon means leaving her here. that’s a damn field day for poachers.”
eijirou nodded, glancing at map once more. a village appeared to be further down the river.
“we can follow the river, there’s a village.”
“that throws us off course—”
“what does your mother say about helping subjects?”
that silenced the prince. his mother hounded him constantly about being a better prince, treating his subjects well.
“fine, but if she slices me again…” he muttered, rubbing a hand over the bandage around his bare abdomen.
the following day, they began traveling. they walked along shore as your moved carefully through the river. due to the restricted space and head injury, you couldn’t move at your full speed and the constant stirring would bring nausea over you occasionally. they’d stop with you, despite the barbarian’s low curses.
you spoke with eijirou more than you did katsuki. the prince was quiet, guarded almost. on the other hand, the dragon couldn’t shut up. he shared stories of his tribe, and you shared stories of your colony. he seemed fascinated by mermaid life and life in the ocean in general. he hadn’t ever been to the ocean, he’d told you. the chill could kill his inner flame if he lingered too long, therefore killing him. you told him you’d never be able to fly or live near a volcano, you’d be steamed in minutes.
you and him were opposite elements, katsuki was the perfect in between. the extremes of each could kill him, but he could tolerate either. you wondered what your mother would think; befriending a barbarian and a dragon—landfolk, as she called them. it was almost against nature. sure, your kinds got along, but befriending was strange.
you were up before them always, watching the sunrise. both would awake, watching from their bed rolls as the sun glistened on your wet skin, how it made your pearlescent scales sparkle. they’d watch the water ripple as your tail swayed. you were mesmerizing, a creature made by nature’s finest hands.
their infatuation for you was hidden, but they knew of it. they knew they shared it. katsuki felt foolish for falling for a woman he had known for days; eijirou believed it must have been fate. opposites attract, right?
your infatuation for the two of them grew each day as well. you’d watch them haul firewood, muscles flexing hard and glistening from sweat in the remaining sun. you’d watch them train, the playful look on eijirou’s face and the cocky one on katsuki’s always amused you. the barbarian, while having attitude issues, cared quite a bit. his words were aggressive but caring nonetheless. he acted annoyed, but he was evidently worried about getting you home save. the dragon kept you happy, kept the worry from your mind. he’d often reach into the river and move large rocks with ease to make your swim easier. if an obstacle couldn’t be moved, he’d simply move you, cradling you like a precious gem in his strong arms.
you arrived to the villages days later, just as the sun was beginning to set. carefully wrapping you in a wet cloth, eijirou carried you to the inn. after giving the man at the front the needed gold, they brought you to the room. filling the tub, he gently placed you inside.
“call if you need something, yeah?”
you nodded, smiling sweetly. as they turned in, you grabbed a book from a shelf near the tub to read. you dozed after just a few pages. the following morning, they left to gather more supplies and a potion to help your head wound.
they returned in the afternoon, cramming into the small washroom. katsuki forced the bottle into your hand.
“drink it, fishbrain,” he insisted. you gulped it down in two chugs, passing back the bottle.
they carried you out carefully that evening, returning you to the river. they had been unable to find a large enough wagon. the prince seemed annoyed by that, but you didn’t mind. water was better when flowing, not still.
the journey continued for days. when silence fell, you’d splash them playfully—receiving a laugh from eijirou and a grumble from katsuki. they checked on your head wound and fin injuries regularly, ensuring the healing was progressing steadily.
nights when they slept heavy, you pull yourself ashore, kissing their cheeks with your chilled lips—soft gestures of appreciation for their assistance. they noticed the disturbed grass when they awoke, but they never asked.
where the river grew thin, they take turns carrying you until it thickened again. they’d pour water upon your tail and skin when you asked, ensuring you wouldn’t dehydrate in the direct sunlight.
they arrived at the ocean shore as the sun was dipping below the horizon on the eighth day. you remained by shore, sat up as they knelt in front of you. they looked happy—happy for you to be safe—but upset to see you go. they didn’t know when—or if—they’d ever see you again.
“thank you,” you whispered, “you’ve shown me that land creatures can befriend those of the ocean.”
“befriend?” katsuki echoed. you all knew this was something past that.
eijirou looked to be on the brink of tears. your chilled hand, nails sharp as ice, cupped his face. your other reached for the prince’s. at first, he pulled back, but eventually melted.
“we’ll meet again. nature never divides love, not permanently,” you told them. leaning in, you kissed each gently. your hands left them, pulling two scales from your tail with a pained hiss. you tucked one into each of their hands, curling their fingers around it.
as if on reflexive, eijirou pried off on of his own scales to pass to you. katsuki pulled an orange gem from his cloak’s fastening strings.
“i love you both,” you murmured.
“i love you,” they replied in perfect unison.
you giggled softly, waving as you waded back into the ocean. you dove into the water, tail flicking out once more—pearlescent scales sparkling in the remains of daylight. then, you were gone from sight.
the dragon let out a faint sob before wiping his eyes hard. he was never one to let people go, especially when they were still very much alive. but, it wasn’t fair to keep you here where you couldn’t prosper and live happily.
“we’ll see her again, shitty scales,” the barbarian reminded gruffly, “i’ll make sure of it.”
eijirou nodded, gaze fixed on the ocean as he stood. that night, they made those scales into necklaces, and they wore those scales with pride. you had out the dragon’s scale and katsuki’s gem onto a bit of role woven from seagrass, fastening it around your neck. they’d always be near your heart, even if they were afar.
fantasy au 💗 hopefully this isn’t too scatter-brained 😭
an: eijiro kirishima and that big ass cock that he's insecure abt bc he doesn't wanna hurt you :'''(
you're laying on the bed, sweat soaked skin while you're bare and laid out on eijiro's bed. your chest is heaving as eijiro lays in between your thighs after just giving you your second orgasm of the night.
"ei, baby. I— I think I'm ready now." you pant, running your hands through his soft ruby locks. his crimson eyes flicker up towards you from your thighs. "are you sure?" he asks, sitting up so you can see the mess of yourself on the lower half of his face. your eyes trace down his abs and stare at the large bulge on his boxers, paired with a wet spot on where you can tell he's been leaking.
you nod your head. "yes ei. you've opened me up enough, I think im ready." you chuckle, you watch his movements to stand up and pull down his boxers; they're unsure and unsteady. like he's almost afraid for you to see.
the moment he pulls down his boxers to fall to the floor, you gasp. his dick doesn't even hit his stomach, it's so heavy it hangs down a little. it has the perfect upward curve, thick in all the right places, and so lengthy. his dick looks like it just came straight out of a porno. "ei—" "yes, it's big. im aware. that's why im so nervous, yn! I don't want to hurt you." he mumbles, looking down at his dick before taking it into his hands.
"oh, ei.. come here." you coo sweetly, you sit up on your elbows and he climbs on top of you. "you could never hurt me, okay? we can just take it slow, yea?" he smiles down at you and lands a sweet kiss to your lips, you reciprocate. "okay, yea. please let me know if anything feels weird or hurts." he mumbles against your lips, brushing his against yours one more time.
you bring your hand down to stroke his dick, collecting all the pre he produced to spread it around his length to help easing it in. you run your thumb over his thick sensitive mushroom tip and his eyes roll to the back of his head as he lets out a soft whimper.
"we will just take it slow, and then we will go from there. baby steps." you say softly, kissing his nose while you move his cock to rub against your entrance.
"baby steps of course."
an: thought this would be cute considering im a horn dog 99% of the time lol. I love kiri and I'll prob write some rough ass thing abt him tmrw when it's not almost 12am and I still need to shower
18+ mdni. hockeyplayer!eijirou indulges in his favorite fangirl ❥
cw : explicit sexual content,,size differences,,praise kink,,oral sex,,p in v,,sslight cum play (?),,semi public sex,,use of petnames “baby” ❥
you’ve been coming to every single home game for two seasons now and eijirou noticed you somewhere around game twelve last year.
at first it was just “oh that one’s always here.” then it became “oh that one’s always here and she’s really enthusiastic” then it became “oh that one’s always here and she looks so fucking cute when she jumps up and down every time i score.”
he’s waved at you a few times. once after a the buzzer signaling the end of a game went off he pointed right at your section and mouthed “thanks for coming.” and you almost passed out in your seat.
so when the final buzzer sounds tonight and a staff member appears at your seat with a polite “mr. kirishima asked if you’d mind waiting by the players’ tunnel,” your brain honestly flat lines so hard you didn’t actually get up until like five minutes later.
you wait.
and wait.
and then the tunnel door opens and there he is.
eijirou kirishima in a black tee and gray sweatpants that do absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he is built like a goddamn refrigerator with abs. red hair still damp from the shower, hanging loose around his face. he spots you immediately and that bright, sunny smile splits across his face like he’s genuinely happy to see you.
“there she is,” he says, “my favorite fan. c’mere.”
you walk over on legs that feel like jelly. he reaches out and gently tugs the sleeve of your jersey, looking down at the 88 on the front with open fondness.
“you wear this every game, huh?” he asks, still smiling. “i notice. committed as hell.”
you somehow manage to stutter out something that might be “i—yeah, i really like watching you play,” and he laughs, clearly pleased.
he glances around, then tilts his head toward a side door. “you got anywhere to be right now? or can i steal you for a bit?”
you shake your head so fast your hair almost hits him in the face.
the room he takes you to is some kind of private lounge — couch, dim lighting, the faint smell of ice and expensive body wash still clinging to him. eijirou drops his bag by the wall and turns to face you, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s not entirely sure what to do with his hands now that you’re actually here.
“so,” he says, “you, uh… you want something to drink? there’s water. maybe some of those granola bars the trainers leave around. they’re gross though.”
“i’m good. thanks.”
the silence stretches and you can hear the faint hum of the building’s ventilation. your pulse is ridiculous.
he leans against the edge of the couch, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with that same open, easy expression he wears in post-game interviews that you’ve rewatched one too many times. only now it’s directed entirely at you and it feels heavier.
“is there anything specific that got you interested in hockey?”
your face goes hot. “oh! uhm other than the fact i really like watching you play and admire you— YOUR skills a lot. you’re really good. obviously. i mean you know that. i just—” you cut yourself off before you start rambling.
he smiles, “that’s nice. i can always hear you when you yell my name. you’re loud as hell.”
you laugh under your breath, “sorry.”
“don’t be. it’s cute.”
the word hangs there. cute. he said it casually, like he was commenting on the weather, but the way his eyes drop for half a second to your mouth makes it land differently.
you shift your weight, suddenly very aware of how close you’re standing. the jersey feels too warm. your palms are sweating.
“i didn’t think you’d actually… ask someone to wait,” you admit, “i thought the staff guy was joking at first and a camera was gonna jump out.”
eijirou huffs a soft laugh. “yeah, i’ve never done this before.”
he pushes off the couch and takes a step closer. you have to tip your head back a little to keep looking at his face.
and before you can stop yourself, your eyes drop.
not to the floor. not to the side. straight down the line of his throat, across the open collar of his shirt, lingering a second too long on the way the fabric stretches over his chest and the faint shadow of muscle underneath. your gaze snags there, stuck, and you swallow hard enough that it’s audible in the quiet room. your thighs press together almost without you noticing.
when you finally force your eyes back up, eijirou is watching you with a different kind of focus. the easy smile is still there, but it’s sharper around the edges now.
he doesn’t call you out. he just tilts his head slightly, voice dropping a little.
“you nervous?”
“y-yeah.”
“me too, a little.” he admits it easily, scratching at his jaw. “i don’t wanna make you uncomfortable and scare you off or something.”
you swallow again. “i’m not going anywhere.”
something seems settles in his expression. he reaches out slowly, giving you every chance to move, and brushes his thumb along the edge of your jersey sleeve and you can feel a bead of sweat rolling down your temple.
his hand stays where it is, fingers lightly resting against your arm. the contact is barely anything, but it feels electric. your eyes flick down again for half a second, and this time he definitely notices.
he exhales through his nose, quiet.
“can i kiss you?” he asks, straightforward, no dramatics.
your brain flatlines again for the second time in less than two hours before you nod.
he leans down. the first press of his mouth is careful, almost testing. you make a tiny sound against his lips and his hand slides up to cup the side of your neck, thumb resting just under your jaw. the second kiss is deeper. slower. he tilts his head and you feel the soft drag of his tongue against yours and suddenly your knees feel unreliable.
when he pulls back he’s breathing a little harder. his forehead rests lightly against yours.
“okay?” he checks.
“yeah,” you croak out. “more than okay.”
his other hand finds your waist, large and warm through the fabric of the jersey. he doesn’t pull you in yet but just holds you there, close enough that you can feel the heat coming off his body.
“been thinking about this for a while,” he says . “seeing you up there every game looking all pretty and… makes a guy wonder what you’d look like under him.”
your face is on fire. your voice comes out small. “i… i think about that too. a lot. like. a really embarrassing amount.”
eijirou’s grin turns a little sleazy around the edges. “oh? you touch yourself thinking about me, baby?”
you nod, already feeling a familiar stickiness between your thighs.
“fuck, that’s hot.” he leans in and kisses you agaim— one of his huge hands drops to your waist, then lower, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass through your jeans. “jesus, you’re soft. feel so good already.”
he keeps kissing you like he’s trying to eat your face, all tongue and teeth and little pleased noises every time you make a sound against his mouth. his other hand slides up under your jersey, huge and warm and rough from years of holding sticks, and he just palms your tit like he owns it, thumb dragging slow over your nipple until it’s hard and you’re squirming.
“shit, look at these,” he mutters against your lips, giving a firm squeeze. “unreal, baby.”
you make an embarrassed noise but you don’t stop him. if anything you push your chest into his hand like a total whore, and he lets out a low laugh.
he gets your jersey off over your head in one smooth yank and then it’s just you in a bra and jeans which is a shot lived observation because bra quickly comes off next. he doesn’t even bother with the clasp properly, just tugs it down so your tits spill out and immediately dives in, mouth hot and wet on one nipple while his hand works the other.
you actually whimper. “eijirou—”
“mmmh,” he hums around your tit, the vibration going straight to your clit. he sucks hard, tongue flicking, then pulls off with a wet pop and grins up at you, lips shiny. “you taste good. bet the rest of you tastes even better.”
he drops to his knees right there on the lounge floor like it’s nothing, big hands already working your jeans open. he shoves them down your thighs along with your underwear in one go, and suddenly you’re standing there half-naked with your jeans tangled around your ankles.
“fuck me,” he breathes. “you’re soaked. all shiny and pink and dripping just from me kissing you a little.” he reaches up and drags two thick fingers through your folds, slow and deliberate, collecting the wetness. “jesus christ. you really have been thinking about this, huh?”
you nod, face burning, and he looks up at you with that big shark grin while he brings those shiny fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean.
“sweet,” he says, almost thoughtful. “gonna eat this pretty pussy now, okay? hold onto something.”
he doesn’t wait for an answer. he just spreads your thighs as far as the jeans around your ankles will allow, leans in, and drags his tongue flat up your slit in one long, greedy lick. you jolt so hard you almost fall over. his hands clamp onto your ass to keep you steady and he does it again, slower this time, tongue thick and hot and messy, and the noise he makes is pure filth — this low, hungry groan like he’s been starving for it.
he really goes for it after that. full on messy face-in-pussy eating, tongue fucking into you, nose pressed against your clit, the wet sounds loud and embarrassing in the quiet room. every time you try to close your thighs he just spreads them wider with those giant hands and keeps going, making these little pleased noises every time you moan.
“ah— eijirou— that’s— fuck—” your voice is already cracking. your hands are in his hair, not sure if you’re trying to pull him closer or push him away. he just groans and sucks your clit into his mouth hard enough that your knees buckle.
he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking and dripping down his chin. only then does he pull back, lips shiny, eyes dark, and stands up to get his sweats down. what comes out is long and heavy and already shiny at the tip, the kind of cock that looks like it could leave you walking funny for two days.
once he catches you staring he just grins even more, “yeah, i know it’s a lot. but you can take it, right? my favorite fan can take it.”
he sits back on the couch and pulls you into his lap so you’re straddling him, the fat head of his cock sliding through your wet folds with a slick sound. he doesn’t push in yet. just holds your hips and grinds you against him, getting everything messy.
you’re panting, hands on his shoulders, trying not to look as desperate as you feel. “please—”
“please what?” he teases, still just sliding through your folds. “i’m not a mind reader, baby.”
“please fuck me,” you whisper, “i want it. i want you inside me.”
that does it. he lines up, the blunt head pressing against your entrance, and starts pushing in slow. the stretch is immediate and intense. you feel every thick inch as he sinks deeper, and the sound that comes out of you is pure broken whimper.
“shhh, i got you,” he soothes, even while his voice is strained. “just breathe. fuck, you’re tight. gripping me so good already.”
he keeps going until he’s as deep as he can get without hurting you, both of you breathing hard. for a second he just holds you there, big hands stroking your back, letting you adjust to the burn.
“you okay?” he asks, genuine even while his cock is twitching inside you.
“mhm. ’s just so big.”
“i know, baby. i know.” he starts moving then — deep rolls of his hips that make the wet sound of your pussy taking him fill the room. every thrust drags a soft “ nngh—” out of you that he seems to love.
“listen to that,” he groans, forehead pressed to yours. “so fucking wet for me. all those games you sat up there screaming my name and this is what you really wanted, huh? my cock stretching you open?”
you can only moan in answer. he takes that as a yes and starts fucking you harder, the slap of skin on skin getting louder, wetter. one of his hands slides between you to rub your clit in tight circles while he keeps thrusting, and the dual sensation makes your eyes cross.
you’re already so close it hurts. the stretch, the wet sounds, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever fucked — it’s too much. you come hard, walls fluttering and clenching around him, a broken high-pitched moan tearing out of your throat while he keeps fucking you through it.
he lasts maybe ten more thrusts before he pulls out with a wet sound, strokes himself twice, and comes all over your stomach and tits in thick, messy ropes. some of it lands on your collarbone. some drips down between your breasts. he watches it with satisfied eyes, still breathing hard.
for a long moment the only sound is both of you trying to catch your breath.
then he leans in, presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
“…can i still come to the next game?”
he laughs fondly and pulls you closer against his broad chest, uncaring of the mess between you.
“baby, you better.”
i actually don't know why this took so long to post but it's here so yay
