sleazebag kiri also engages in pissplay but he’s making you piss yourself on him bc the humiliation is what gets him off :/
cw piss hehe
i think … i think he likes to make you piss yourself in front of his friends and their girlfriends. sleazebag kirishima bringing you on a night out, forcing you to sit in his lap as he makes you drink all these fruity sickly sweet cocktails you don’t even like. forcing you to share one with him, lips all over your straw. shot after shot. you feel tired and drowsy and kirishima’s friends laugh too loud and keep looking down your top. you tell him so but he doesn’t care, big arm squeezing you into the hardline of his body — breath on your neck smelling like lychee juice and coconut rum. tacky against your skin.
“don’t make a scene, baby doll.”
you shiver and squirm — face beginning to burn with frustration. “eijirou. i want to go home. my head hurts and they’re making me uncomfortable.”
“don’t be a sour puss, baby,” he pinches your lips, all teeth and smiles that don’t match the dark in his eye. “in a minute.”
“okay but like … can i go to the bathroom before we go?”
kirishima knows he knows he’s filled you up with so much liquid that it might slosh around if he moves you ever so slightly. his bicep presses into your tummy and someone — maybe izuku? hollers loudly at something that isn’t even funny to your right, making you jump in suprise. clenching your thighs, the urge strong. kirishima knows once you break the seal you won’t be able to stop and he really doesn’t care if you piss yourself and make a mess.
“no,” he shrugs, bringing another cocktail to your lips. it’s sour as he pours it into your mouth without asking — bitter lemon burning your insides. “do it here.”
“eijirou,” you squirm, shocked. “kirishima, please just let me go. i’ll do whatever you want later just not that. not in front of them. just — please.”
ruby purse around the straw, his teeth biting down on the climate paper like it means nothing. like it’s a warning. letting you know that you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. kirishima slings an arm around your neck to lower your head, placing his drink down to push further against your bladder because he can tell you’re barely able to hold back. his tongue traces the shell of your ear, sloppy and wet. “it’s either here, in front of our friends or somewhere else, with more people. strangers. in public. pick your poison, princess.”
you feel the smugness behind his smirk as it quirks up against the shell of your ear. your insides turning to water, your face hot as it burns with absolute shame because you really feel like he’s given you no other choice.
it’s deku who points it out, drunk and dazed as a warm gush starts to trickle into the seat of eijirou’s lap. looking against the leather couch, darkening the fabric of the dress he said would look so pretty on you tonight. it’s kaminari who laughs because maybe eijirou will let him taste the remainders of your accident later. it’s eijirou who comforts you in a condescending tone. the tone that makes your shoulders shrink so you appear small. he lets you bury your wet cheeks into his neck as you piss all over his lap, mumbling sweet nothings of praise and degradation twisted into one rope of red liquorice candy.
you feel sick to your stomach, yet relieved in your bladder.
“poor baby, someone’s made a mess.” eijirou says. it doesn’t make you feel any better.
