A Little Something To Keep Yall Entertained While I Work On My Neighbor!chuuya Post

Interview About You

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader ♡ Tags: Established relationships, aged-up characters

Reporters couldn’t stop asking Dynamight about his new arm candy. Nobody recognized your face in the most recent paparazzi photos, but the implications of your open affection was clear as day. His fans couldn’t believe a random person snatched Dynamight out of nowhere.

His latest interview (the only one he agreed to) was entirely centered around you.

“Who is this mysterious girl?” the interviewer asked. “The internet’s dying to know! And how long have you known her?”

“You don’t get it?” Bakugou asked. “She’s mine. And I’ve known her for years.”

The live crowd went wild with speculation.

“For years?!” The interviewer’s mouth was agape. “Nobody’s heard anything about this woman during your entire hero career. Did you meet her back at U.A.? Were you always in love with her?”

“Yes and yes,” Bakugou replied. “So if her old boyfriends hear this, now you know to back off! ‘Cause she’s with me.”

You cringed as you watched the live show from home. You knew you shouldn’t have encouraged Bakugou to take the interview, but you thought you could convince the boy to behave for once. Still, his devil-may-care attitude was why you loved him.

“Can’t you give us just one more hint to her identity?” the interviewer asked. “Or to your relationship?”

“No! Now piss off!”

At this point, you wondered if Bakugou enjoyed sliding down the popularity rankings…

𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐖— gojo satoru

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader summary: it's hard to hide your relationship when your boyfriend has a staring problem. genre: fluff, humor (?), secret relationship notes: inspired by a real incident (aware). not revised, sorry for any mistakes </3 wc: ~2.4k

he’s staring.

you're sitting on the couch, curled up in the corner and chatting with shoko about your hellish weeks, and he's just staring.

you keep your gaze on shoko, refusing to look at gojo as he stands in the doorway and all but ignores geto's greeting. it's a little embarrassing, really, and you can't help but spare a glance in his direction in order to give him a sharp glare. the corners of his lips tug up at your action, and he reluctantly tears his eyes away from you and greets geto with an enthusiastic hug.

"i brought cookie dough!" gojo announces proudly, puffing his chest out as the rest of you groan. he all but wilts at the sound you all make, and you can see his lips forming a pout as he gives you all an expectant look. "what's the issue?"

"last time you tried to bake cookies, you burnt them," shoko says dryly, letting her head fall back against the couch as she complains. "for someone who claims to be good at everything you sure seem to love proving yourself wrong."

"that's because i didn't read the instructions, shoko," gojo explains patiently, face smug as he smirks. "but it'll be fine this time because you'll be the one making them."

"like hell i will," shoko snaps, eyes narrowing as she turns her head to glare at gojo.

"then i'll just try my luck again, i guess," gojo says breezily, meeting her glare evenly. the two of them stare each other down for a couple of seconds before shoko lets out a loud sigh and stands up, stalking over to gojo and snatching the container out of his hands. a snicker leaves his lips as she starts to walk towards the kitchen, and it only turns into a full blown laugh when she picks up the nearest thing (which happens to be geto's water bottle) and launches it at him.

"suguru!" shoko yells once she's in the kitchen. "get in here! you're going to help me."

"i'll be right back," geto says, smiling amicably before slipping through the doorway. you turn to finally face gojo, smiling as he bends down to pick up the fallen water bottle before placing it on the table beside him. the smile remains on your face as he approaches, and he can't help but smile in return as he casually points to the now empty space next to you.

"this seat taken?"

"yeah, by shoko," you scoff lightly, shaking your head lightly when he ignores your words and plops himself down next to you. he rests his arm on the back of the couch, and his added weight has the cushion sinking in a way that forces you to lean into him.

"oh? is that so?" gojo asks, an innocent smile on his face as he inches forward the slightest bit.

"yeah," you breathe, eyes darting towards the kitchen to make sure that geto and shoko are still occupied.

"but she's not here right now," gojo teases, chuckling when you roll your eyes.

"she'll come back eventually."

"and she can sit on my other side," gojo states confidently, leaning in even further with a cocky little grin on his face. "besides, we both know she likes curling up and resting her head on the arm rest."

"but she always insists on sitting next to me," you argue, giving in and leaning in as well.

"then you can sit in the middle," gojo whispers, his lips brushing against yours the slightest bit. "that way it's a win-win for everyone involved."

"what about suguru? where will he sit?"

"who cares?" gojo murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he leans in fully to kiss you.

"the cookies will be ready in fifteen minutes!"

the two of you spring apart, almost leaping to opposite ends of the couch as shoko peeks her head into the living room. there's a moment of silence as she glances between the two of you, and it isn't until she turns to look back at who you assume is geto that you share a mildly panicked look with gojo.

"do we wanna wait or should we just start the movie?" shoko asks, drawing your attention back to her.

"let's just start the movie," you say, willing yourself to sound as normal as possible. shoko nods in return, stepping back into the living room with geto trailing behind her. she makes her way to the couch as geto approaches the tv, gingerly plucking the remote from behind it before settling down on the ground. shoko comes to a stop in front of gojo, motioning for him to move from his spot so she can sit.

you shuffle awkwardly across the couch as gojo makes his way to the other end of the couch, sinking into the middle seat as shoko curls up on the edge and rests her head on the arm rest. you turn to look at gojo when he plops down next to you, only to be met with a smug expression that screams 'i told you so'. the tv comes to life as geto nestles himself into the spot between you and shoko, his broad back pressed firmly up against the couch and preventing you from moving to the left in fear of accidentally kicking him.

"so what are we thinking?" geto asks, tilting his head back to look at the three of you. "comedy? action? romance?"

"horror," you reply flatly, choosing to ignore the look geto had sent your way when he had suggested romance. you smirk when you notice his expression fall, and he merely grumbles something under his breath before shifting his attention back to the tv.

"any objections?" geto asks, sparing a glance at shoko and frowning when she shakes her head. "any at all?"

"just choose a movie," shoko sighs, lightly kicking the back of geto's head. it's silent as geto finally settles on a movie that you know you've all seen before, and you decide to let it slide this time because you know that dealing with a scared geto is worse than sitting through a rewatch.

you reach across gojo to turn off the floor lamp, effectively plunging the living room into near-darkness. the glow from the television is bright enough to highlight geto's uncertain expression, and you resist the urge to snicker as you lean forward to tug at his hair. he looks up at you in annoyance, rolling his eyes when you speak. "if you get too scared, you can just sit on gojo's lap, okay?"

a low snort leaves shoko's words at your comment, and geto shushes her as the movie begins to play. you quickly find yourself engrossed in the film, and you let yourself melt into the couch as the first scene plays. you make sure to stay aware of geto's reactions when you realize the first jump scare is coming up, and you're rewarded with a sharp jolt as geto does his best to hold in his gasp.

a swat to the calf is all you receive when he hears your quiet laugh, and you throw a glance at shoko in hopes of sharing an amused glance, only to stop when you notice her already looking at you. or rather, looking past you and directly at gojo.

you feel yourself stiffen as you force yourself to look back at the film, waiting for shoko so turn her attention back to the tv before glancing at gojo through your periphery. a soft sigh leaves your lips when you see him staring at you, and you waste no time before elbowing his side and subtly tilting your head towards the tv. you don't wait to see his reaction, but you do feel him shift in his seat, stretching his arm across the back of the couch before running his fingers over your shoulder lightly.

you shiver lightly at the contact, and you don't even have to spare gojo another glance to know he's back to staring at you. the next few minutes consist of the same few actions: gojo shamelessly stares at you, shoko shoots him suspicious glances, and you do your best to ignore the two of them while you watch the movie. it isn't until a phone goes off that the strange cycle finally gets broken.

"what was that?" geto asks, eyes wide and voice low as he pauses the movie. you shake your head, trying to suppress a smile at his reaction.

"my phone," shoko says, her eyes glinting with amusement. "the cookies are ready. c'mon, suguru."

"no, i'll help!" you say, jumping to your feet. you watch as shoko watches you with narrowed eyes, and can't help but sigh in relief when she merely shrugs and starts making her way into the kitchen. you pointedly ignore gojo's stare and geto's curious look, slipping into the next room just in time to see shoko pull a tray out of the oven.

"i wanna wait for them to cool down, but i also know how impatient those two are," shoko mutters, a hand on her hip as she looks down at the tray. you hold up a finger, skirting around her and rifling through one of geto's drawers before finding a spatula.

"we can just transfer them to a plate and take them back with us. besides, gojo likes them warm," you suggest, earning a nod from shoko. you trade places with her while she pulls out a plate, and you begin scooping the freshly baked cookies onto it as she leans on the counter next to you.

"so, gojo," shoko says offhandedly. "y'know, he's been staring all night."

"oh? has he?" you ask, mentally patting yourself on the back when your voice remains steady.

"yeah," she continues, watching as you place the last of the cookies on the plate before grabbing it. "just pay attention and you'll notice. it's kind of scary, if i'm being honest. if he kept looking at me with those eyes of his, i'd put in a complaint with yaga."

you can't help but giggle at her words, and you quickly wash the spatula and dry it before placing it back into the drawer. "i'll keep your words in mind."

shoko gives you a lazy smile before plucking the tray of cookies off the counter, already making her way back into the living room. "make sure to keep an eye out!"

"yeah, yeah, whatever," you grumble under your breath, following after her and taking your seat once again. you flinch when she plops the plate into your lap, but you're given no time to say anything before geto and gojo are digging into the cookies.

"they're still warm!" gojo exclaims, earning a soft smile from you. shoko watches you closely, making sure to give you a knowing look when you finally glance her way. she remains silent when geto starts playing the movie once again, only reaching for a cookie herself and curling back up on the couch cushion.

five minutes after resuming the movie, you feel gojo's knee bump against yours as he shifts in his spot, sinking lower in his seat and spreading his legs apart before leaning against the armrest on his side. you can feel shoko's prickly stare as you keep your own gaze focused on the tv, and you simply tuck your legs under you and refuse to acknowledge either one of them. it isn't long until you can feel gojo staring at you too, and you feel your face grow warmer due to all the attention.

by the time the movie ends, geto is the only one who can say he actually watched the film, and he wastes no time before leaping to his feet and letting out a groan as he stretches.

"well, i need a drink if we're going to continue with the horror movies," geto announces, turning the floor lamp back on. he leans over to snag the last cookie, breaking it in two before offering half to gojo.

"me too," shoko agrees, suppressing a yawn as she joins geto's side. "i could go for a drink."

"me three," you chime in, making a move to stand up only to be stopped by shoko.

"nah, stay here," she says smugly, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep you in place. "i'll get it for you."

"um, okay?" you respond hesitantly, watching as geto follows shoko into the kitchen. "thank you!"

"well, well, well," gojo says quietly, leaning in and drawing your attention back to him. "it seems like we're all alone."

"you're so stupid," you snort, gently pushing him away from you. he pouts at your action and you find yourself shaking your head fondly at his expression. "shoko's been noticing all the staring you've been doing."

"well can you blame me?" he asks, grabbing your hand and pulling you close. he lets his lips skim against your knuckles, and you roll your eyes when he finally presses a firm kiss to the back of your hand. "how can i not stare when i have the most beautiful art i've ever seen sitting right next to me?"

"you're so cheesy!" you hiss, ignoring the way your stomach lurches when he gently intertwines his fingers with yours.

"yeah but you love it," gojo responds haughtily.

"yeah, i do," you say softly. gojo's eyes soften at your words, and he leans forward slightly before pausing, hesitation clear on his face. you let go of his hand to cup his cheek, pulling him even closer as you run your thumb along his cheekbone. "c'mere."

gojo's lips meet yours eagerly, and you resist the urge to smile when you hear him hum happily. you scoot yourself closer to him, half on his lap as he tilts his head to the side in an attempt to deepen the kiss. you respond eagerly, giggling when his hands settle on your waist and pull you onto his lap entirely.

"i told you they were making out!"

the two of you pull away from each other when you hear shoko's voice, and you turn to give her a mildly annoyed look as she gives you a smug one in return. geto stands right behind her, lips pursed as he does his best to hold back a smile.

"yeah, we were," gojo mutters bitterly, giving shoko a dark look. "before you so rudely interrupted."

shoko only laughs at his words, and you don't have the chance to explain anything before gojo is pulling you into another kiss.

"you owe me five bucks, suguru!"

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading !!

SOMETHING I WAIT FOR . . . dazai has a close call. he barely makes it to your apartment but you’re there just in time, in more ways than one.

ft. pm!dazai + f!reader, pm!reader, blood and injuries, mentions of drowning / suicidal ideation from dazai, a little suggestive in some parts, 3.6k w.c.

p.s.! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ if you catch the its okay to not be okay references, ily <3 !!

EVERYWHERE, EVERYTHING SERIES MASTERLIST

dazai hates pain.

if the idiot who shot him would’ve aimed just a little bit higher, it might've been a fatal wound. instead, all he did was graze his shoulder. it wasn’t enough to cause serious harm, but just enough to make him bleed in miseryー just his luck.

the man must’ve been dead by now, taken care of by one of his subordinates. he didn’t stay long enough to find out, slipping from the scene before anyone could try to force him into the mafia’s infirmary. he knows your apartment is close. 

he’s nearing the point of being injured where the pain fades and melts into pure exhaustion. he hates the way his blood feels against his hands, and he uses it to ground himself. it’s already soaked through his shirt, wet and warm as it seeps between his fingers and drips down his arm, absorbing into the bandages around his wrist. his already obscured vision is fading, white stars glistening from beneath the edge of his lashes, but he keeps his eyes trained ahead on your building. he swears you used to only have one apartment door, his vision doubling and growing hazy. 

just a few more steps. that’s all he needs to make it to you.

he huffs as his hand slips from your doorknob, sliding off the metal from his weak grip. he falls forward, blood smearing against the doorframe where his palm flattens as he tries to steady himself, pressing his forehead against your door with a quiet thump. you have to be home right now. right? please be home right now.

as soon as you open your door from the other side of your apartment, he collapses, landing against your chest. he curls against you, inhaling the scent of your skin with the desperation of a man who’d just been saved from drowning. 

“dazai?” you stumble backward, but he doesn’t weigh nearly enough to make you fall. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he grips your shirt in his hands, trying to press himself impossibly closer to you. he can feel the moment you realize he’s bleeding, your chest stalling mid-inhale. “oh my god, dazai.”

his jacket slips from his shoulders, falling to the floor limply as you carry him inside, kicking the door closed with your foot. his feet drag against your carpet as he tries to walk, but he’d rather use his waning strength to snuggle closer into your side than keep his balance. even with your body supporting his own, he plops unceremoniously onto your couch.  

“it’s okay,” he shivers when you start to unbutton his shirt, pulling back the bloody, frayed fabric stuck to his skin. he can’t tell if you’re talking to him or yourself. “you’re okay.”

his bangs are damp, yokohama’s humidity and his own sweat gluing them to his forehead. you push them back, stroking your thumb along the edge of his bandage over his cheek tenderly.

“are you hurt anywhere else?”

he tilts his head to press his face into your palm and smiles at you. you’re so pretty when you frown at him like this.

“i’ll be right back,” you squish his cheeks between your hands, making his lips pucker. “don’t try to move.”

he has to stop himself from reaching back out for you when you let him go. he squeezes the fabric of his trousers instead, watching you disappear past the couch’s limited view. he wants to pull you on top of him and beg you to ignore the blood leaking out of his body, to just wrap your arms around him and hold him until there’s nothing left between the two of you. it still wouldn’t be close enough; if he had the choice, he would shrink down and make a home inside your chest.

he tries his best to relax into the cushions beneath him. he’d much rather be in your bed than on your couch, but it was still yours, and that made it enough for him to want to sink into it until it absorbed him whole. your apartment was nothing like his hollow shipping container, the metal walls suffocating in the summer heat.

he could’ve dragged himself there instead. maybe he would’ve finally died from blood loss if he was lucky. that’s what he wants. really.

so then why did he drag himself here? because you felt safe?

dazai came to a realization a few days ago, one more painful than the wound in his shoulder, or the fact he has a mission with chuuya a few days from now. ever since it planted its dirty roots in his brain, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. 

it grew deeper every time his chest tightened around you, or his heart fluttered at the sight of your smile, or his stomach churned in jealousy when someone else touched you. 

this, his mind taunted him, is what people say love feels like. worst of all, when he whined to odasaku and ango about how annoying you were, they didn’t stop talking about his “crush” for the rest of the night. 

his body protests as he sits up, vision swimming as the walls of your living room tilt. he tries to blink it away when he hears you sigh as you come back from down the hallway. he makes his one visible eye big and pouts his lips when he looks at you.

“dazai,” the medical supplies you always keep on hand are cradled in your arms as you walk back toward him. “i told you not to move.”

“you took too long,” he whines. “i’m dying, you know.”

“you wish.” you guide him back down gently, your hands leaving tingles beneath his skin in their wake. he watches you kneel beside him, organizing the little bottles and boxes on your coffee table. you press down on one of the white lids with the heel of your palm, twisting it and knocking it upside down. you hand him one of the pills that fall out, and he swallows it dry.

you open another one of your bottles, and the familiar, sterile smell could be nothing other than saline. it’s cold against his skin, but your touch is what makes him shiver and his hair raise. you squeeze his leg softly, running your fingers against his thigh. it ignites something warm in his stomach, but it fades to white pain when the liquid absorbs into his wound. he jolts, and you murmur an apology, squeezing his thigh a little tighter. you’re trying to distract him, and it works pathetically well.

when you get closer to clean the drying blood off his skin, he can’t help but let his eyes fall to your lips, slightly parted in concentration. you’re close enough for him to kiss, and against the ache of his shoulder, all he can think about is how you might taste.

he wonders how soft you’d feel if he traced the shape of your lips with his tongue. he imagines the sweet sting of you pulling his hair as he memorizes every inch of you he can, taking everything you give him and more. it’d be different from the other people he’s kissed, he knows it; using his mouth to get information out of theirs did nothingー if anything, he felt more numb when it was over. 

he can see a familiar box from the corner of his eye: it’s the brand of bandages he always uses, the only kind that doesn’t irritate his scarred, sensitive skin. he watches your fingers as they delicately pull the beginning of the roll, imagining the feeling of you wrapped around his bare body instead of the cotton he adorns himself with. 

you turn him on his side to wrap the bandages around his shoulder and under his arm. once the ends are tied, nice and snug around him, you sit back on your heels.

“can i have your hand?” 

he gives you both, trying to hide the way they tremble. you grab the one covered in blood tenderly as you begin to clean it off. 

“i guess you weren’t lucky enough to die this time,” you smile teasingly, but he knows it isn’t real. it doesn’t look right on your face, like a mask that’s too big. he can see the worry you try to hide, clouding your eyes like murky water. he hates it. “sorry.”

“i never get what i want,” he sighs. “i think i’m cursed. do you have something to cure that in one of those little bottles too?”

“i don’t know if you’ll ever die, even when you become an old man,” if, not when, he wants to correct, but holds his tongue. “you’re like a cockroach.”

“yeah?” he reaches up to poke your face with his bloody fingers as you try to hold him still. “you’re like a little kid.”

“you’re more like a kid than i am.”

“nuh uh.”

“yeah,” you giggle, catching his hand back in your own. you wipe down each of his fingers, gently scrubbing the spaces in between. “you are.”

when he speaks again, he’s surprised by how quiet his voice is. he almost hopes you don’t hear him. “how?”

“because,” your voice softens, holding his now clean hand. you trace over one of the lines on his palm with your thumb.  “you want to be loved.”

he feels like he can’t breathe as he realizes that for once, he doesn’t have the upper hand. all of his walls he’s so carefully built, it’s like they’re made of glass around you. the possibility that you see him more clearly than he sees you terrifies him. 

the painkillers are starting to kick in, drowsiness creeping up on him and making his eyelids heavy as he melts against the cushions despite his pounding heart. when was the last time he slept? he can’t remember.your fingers are gentle as they brush his bangs back. your touch makes his eyes fall completely closed before he feels something soft and warm presses against his forehead. he hears a whisper of his name, a quiet sweet dreams, and then he’s asleep.

it only really feels like he blinked. when he opens his eyes again, it’s dark. the light from your kitchen leaks through the hall, permeating the living room in a soft glow. he wiggles his toes, feeling the soft blanket you draped over his legs while he slept.

he gets up slowly, creeping off the couch and across your floor. he peeks past the kitchen doorway, grinning when he sees your back is facing him. you’re halfway bent over the counter with your chin resting in your hand, staring absently at the tea kettle on the stove, waiting for it to boil.

he keeps his steps quiet, walking on the tips of his toes. he sinks his teeth into his lip to bite back his smile as he leans closer, taking advantage of the fact you’re completely zoned out.

“boo.”

you flinch, hand closing around a butterknife on your counter, still smeared with jelly from a late-night snack. you turn sharply, pointing the dull blade in his direction. he grabs your wrist before it grazes him, smiling innocently.

“dazai,” he thinks his name sounds so pretty when you sigh it out like that. you drop the knife back onto your counter. “should you even be standing right now? go lay back down. i can bring you something to eat.”

the thought of you taking care of him like this ignites that warm feeling in his stomach again. an image of you as his personal nurse forms in his mind, and his insides flip at the thought. he wonders if being an executive would give him enough leniency to put you in a little white dress; surely there was one lying around somewhere at headquarters.

“what, did you hit your head too?” he whines when you poke his forehead, hard. “are you feeling better?”

he pouts at you, gaze drifting over your shoulder to a bottle of sake on the counter. it definitely wasn’t there the last time he was here.

“oh〜” he perks, holding the bottle up by its neck, eyes sparkling. “this is fancy! where did you get this from, hm? some secret date i don’t know about?”

“ane-san,” your eyes narrow as he flicks the stove off, breaking the seal on the bottle excitedly. “it was a gift from her after we finished that raid in osaka.”

he sniffs it, then takes a big sip straight from the bottle. it leaves a pleasant sting along the inside of his throat as he swallows.

he sits himself down on your kitchen tiles, pressing his back against the cabinets, cradling the sake in his arms. there’s something angelic about the way your kitchen light haloes around you as he looks up at you from the floor. 

he holds the bottle up, sloshing the liquid as he wiggles it back and forth. he pulls it out of your reach each time you try to grab it until you have no choice but to sit next to him, stretching across his lap to take it from him. you follow his lead and take a small sip from the mouth of the bottle, sighing as you sag backward. 

“what happened this time, anyway?” you tilt your head toward him lazily, gaze dipping down to his bandaged shoulder. 

“someone had bad aim,” he sighs, holding a finger up to his temple. “missed my head. unlucky, right?”

you take a bigger, longer sip.

“i don’t like when you get hurt, you know.”

he’s relieved your head is on his bandaged blindside; he doesn’t know if he wants to see the look on your face right now. he takes the bottle from you, taking a longer sip of his own.

“do you remember when we used to go to the beach?” he can hear the smile in your voice, and it makes his own rise on his cheeks. the two of you would always go after missions, bodies bruised and hair knotted. it was always early enough to watch the sunrise from the shore, eating a breakfast of shared instant ramen and candy stolen from the konbini down the street. 

he can only ignore the way the edge of the counter presses into the back of his head for so long, leaning his cheek against your hair and listening to you breathe. he can tell you’re getting tipsy when you start to cling to him, clumsily crawling into his lap. you insist on being the one to rebutton his shirt, swatting his hands away when he tries to do it himself. 

“can we go now?” the curl of your lip hits him like an arrow through his heart. “to the beach? please?”

you’re so close again, looking up at him so prettily through your lashes. your hands warm as they rest above his heart, like you could go right through him and steal it for yourself, and he knows he could never possibly say no. 

you pick his coat up off the floor before you leave, draping it over his shoulders. you tug it a little tighter around him, nodding to yourself in satisfaction before you grab his hand, intertwining your fingers and tugging him out the door.

the nighttime air is warm and sticky, but it gets cooler the closer you get to the shore. he keeps your smaller body close to his, guard raising as you approach the edge of port mafia territory. 

the sand sinks beneath his feet with every step, and he pulls his shoes off by the heel. the waves lap calmly, dancing back and forth with no audience to watch as they tease the shore. he breathes in deep, feeling his lungs expand, inviting the salt and sand inside.

you drop limply onto the ground, laying your head on his shoulder when he sits next to you. it’s quiet, only the distant sound of traffic and the soft splashing of water.

“i wish it could be like this all the time.” you sigh. there’s a determined glint in your sleepy eyes when you look up at him. “let’s run away.”

he smiles, tilting his head toward you until your noses are close enough to brush. “and just where would you take me?”

“i don’t know,” you mumble. “i don’t care as long as i’m with you.”

he always thought he was born with an empty cavity in place of where his heart should be, but around you, it felt so full he could explode. he thinks if he tried to say anything right now, something icky, like the pile of seaweed he can see rotting by the water, would come out of his mouth instead.

a particularly big wave draws your attention away from him, and he frowns when you look away. it only deepens when you stand up and leave him, walking towards the ocean. he watches as you stumble down the wet sand, squealing when the water splashes against your feet. you don’t stop walking until the water is deep enough to cover your shins.

he follows you to the water, hopping on each foot over the big rocks. he’s careful not to slip, crouching on the furthest one out to keep a closer eye on you. he keeps his weight on his ankles, spreading his knees and resting his arms between them. he feels drops of salt water hit his face as the waves crash against the sea stacks, gently blowing the fabric of his jacket. 

you turn back and smile at him, holding your hand out. the moon is large and eternal behind you, taking up nearly all the space in the sky and casting a pale blue glow over the dark water. it reflects onto you, illuminating your body in soft light, and he swears he’s never seen someone look so beautiful. you open and close your hand impatiently when he doesn’t move.

“what are you doing over there?” you tilt your head. “c’mere. it’s warm.”

he doesn’t bother to pull up his pants as he slips into the ocean, letting the waves move the fabric as they ebb and flow. he looks down at himself; he nearly blends in with the water, looking black in the night. he almost thinks he’ll dissolve into it like ink and wash away into the sea. 

you beam at him as the water laps at your knees. he wiggles his toes into the wet sand and waits to feel the unbridled joy that standing here seems to cause. all he feels is goop between his toes, and he sighs in disappointment. he wants to understand why something like this made you so happy. he wants to feel it too.

“isn’t it nice?” you smile up at him, and he wishes he could bottle it up and keep it for himself. that smile was just for him.

don’t.

he leans closer. he can’t help it; there’s alcohol still warm in his veins, and you’re magnetic.

don’t.

even closer, until he can feel your soft exhale against his face, eyes big. he always thought you were the prettiest up close.

you’ll lose her once you have her.

he freezes. he doesn’t have time to completely change his mind and forget this little slip-up ever happened before you close the gap, pressing your lips against his. you’re just as soft as he imagined, gentle even when you kiss him, like he was something worth handling with care.

you pull back all too soon, looking down at where his legs disappear beneath the water.

“sorry,” you mumble, and the watery way your voice comes out makes something ache deep inside of him. “i…i don’t know why i did that.”

oh.

he didn’t kiss you back.

he didn’t move, he didn’t even breathe. he almost wants to laugh; you really like him too. you, with your stupid smile, making his heart flutter and his stomach hurt when it’s directed toward him. you, letting him sleep in your bed when he breaks into your apartment, holding his blood-soaked hands and letting him get close, despite knowing what he was. you were so, so stupid. 

he cups your cheeks with trembling fingers, bringing you back to his mouth. this could be the biggest mistake of his life; the fact he wants you could be your death sentence, but he’s never wanted anything else so badly before in his entire, sad life. 

he thought it’d be weird to touch you like this, but it only feels right. when his hands hover over your waist, you press them into your skin, and he can’t help but think they fit perfectly there, like you were made to be held by him.

you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers brushing against his nape, and his knees nearly buckle. he thinks if they did, if he fell into the sand right now and washed out to sea, he’d be content, but you’d never let that happen. he wouldn't even be mad if you resuscitated him; nothing would be better than your lips breathing life back into him. he wonders how mad you’d be if he tried to pull that as an excuse to have another kiss.

he kisses your forehead, your nose, and then tilts your chin up to kiss you properly agai , swallowing the giggle you press against his lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to get enough of you now that he’s had a taste.

“is this really okay?” you’re looking up at him with eyes bigger than the moon, glittering just as bright.

“yeah,” he can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself. “it’s okay.”

BSD MASTERLIST

taglist . . . @little-miss-chaoss @almond-t0fu @yaeeko @annoyingpainterprincess @callm3-tash1

@janbannan @snowsilver2000 @mochiii-sama @aureatchi @bakananya

@warcelia

“And the winner of the UA Sports Festival for his third year in a row, Katsuki Bakugo!”

The frequency of Present Mic’s voice reverbs through the stadium, mixing with the roar of the crowd as the realization sets in — you lost. But you didn’t go down without a fight, pushing yourself and Bakugo to your absolute limits at almost an hour long duel. You assume he’s standing proudly on the other side of the arena, hands on his hips with that cocky smirk of his as everyone celebrates him for claiming the top spot once more…but no.

He’s running, sprinting over to you.

You’re on your feet right as he bursts into your personal bubble, arms wrapping around your waist and picking you up effortlessly. He spins the two of you, a genuine boyish grin on his face underneath the dirt and sweat, his celebratory cheers echoing in your ears.

“Katsuki!” You chuckle when he puts you back on your feet. “The hell are you doing? I lost, go get your trophy!”

Bakugo shakes his head and flicks your forehead. “Already got it.”

Hop On That Delulu Train Bestie || Minors DNI

Summary: HOOOLY S H I T. WHY. DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF? May you all find peace one day and cure your chronic horniness and delusions for men who would never want you irl <3 (Just like me fr). Anyways, this has been sitting and gathering cobwebs for weeks now, but I’ve decided to finish it in honor of chapter 109. Keep being delulu babe.

Tags: Dazai Osamu/Reader, Afab reader, Soft Dom Dazai, Fingering, Cunnilingus (Why Is That Such A Silly Word), Pussy IS Therapy Ig, He Just Seems Like An Avid Pussy Eater Idk, Would Definitely Use Your Thighs As Earmuffs, Sorry Y’all Don’t Get The Dick <3, I Was Too Lazy To Turn This Into A Full Smut.

The quiet hum of a low light lamp buzzes through your ears as your eyes flicker over the words to the page mindlessly. Reading was boring, watching television was boring, everything was boring.

You look over to the clock on your nightstand and let out a loud sigh. Nearly midnight and he had still yet to walk through the door as he usually does and smother you with sweet nothings and soft kisses. Your gaze falls back onto your book, the romance novel glaring back with the most dull descriptions and irritating plot. You shut the book, tossing it aside as you groan and knock your head back against the headboard of your bed.

Picking up your phone that sits on the nightstand dresser, you note the empty screen with no obnoxious texts from a certain brunette. It was almost worrying not seeing his name on your lock screen with a bunch of random emojis spammed next to it. Unlocking your phone, you re-read your last text sent to him nearly two hours ago— asking when he’d be home.

You start to wonder if he’s late because of another failed suicide attempt, but you quickly let the thought pass when you finally hear the front door open. It closes almost silently, muffled footsteps growing closer to your room. Your eyes focus on your door frame as Dazai finally steps in, his clothes disheveled and hair messy.

“ ‘Samu…” You murmur, slightly taken aback at his appearance.

His warm brown eyes travel over to the bed where you lay and a small smile curls onto his lips as he shuffles over and climbs onto your side of the bed, his face and upper body planting atop of your legs. He heavily inhales before exhaling, his hot breath blowing against the skin of your thighs. Subconsciously, one of your hands makes its way into his hair and begins to comb through his tangled tresses. His arms wrap around under your legs and lock them in place.

“My love…” He whispers back, his body relaxing on you as his feet hang over the bottom edge of the bed. He kicks his shoes off and allows them to thump to the ground.

“You didn’t answer my text, something happen?” Your brows scrunch together in concern.

Dazai sighs, pressing a light kiss against your thigh, “My phone was in my pocket during a shoot out and it was sadly destroyed.”

You wait for him to make a joke about wishing the bullet went through his skull instead, but it never comes to your surprise. “Oh… Well, I guess we can go look for a new one tomorrow then.” You finish unknotting his hair with your fingers as a moment of silence settles over the both of you before you add, “I’m guessing today was rough then?”

He hums in return, enjoying the way your hand runs through his hair affectionately. “Kunikida made me do my paperwork,” He pouts, his chin coming to rest on your thighs to look up at you.

You briefly laugh, patting his head before speaking with a mock-sympathetic tone, “Aw, my poor baby…”

He huffs, burying his face back into the plush of your thighs, “You don’t sound very genuine, that’s very mean you know… He’s always bullying me around.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, knowing full well that whatever shit Kunikida gives Dazai— he deserves every bit of it for his shenanigans. You’ve only met him a few times as well as Dazai’s other co-workers, but it was safe to say that if anyone was being bullied— it was that poor bastard, Kunikida. “Oh, really? And you don’t bother the hell out of him until he loses his shit?” You stop running your hand through his hair.

Dazai gasps, overdramatically, of course, “I would never! Kunikida is my respectable co-worker who I value and treat with the utmost—“

“Then why do I get calls from him begging me: “For the love of God, please come get your terrorizing bastard of a boyfriend, I can’t do it anymore.” Huh?”

Cue another gasp, “You’re talking to other men?! Kunikida no less!?”

You roll your eyes, “It was originally because he called me to come get you every time you decided to take a dip in the canal, now it’s a complaint hotline for you.” You poke an index finger against his forehead firmly.

“Owie…” He brings a hand up to rub his forehead, bottom lip jutting out.

“You’re a handful, you know that?” You grumble, staring down at him, “I deserve a medal for putting up with your shenanigans.”

“Isn’t my love enough?” Dazai whines, making puppy eyes at you.

A sigh leaves your lips, “Yeah… You’re lucky you’re cute.”

His lips quirk up back into a smile and he nuzzles his face back against your skin, placing small kisses to your thighs.You don’t really keep count, but it takes a few pecks until he gently nips at your thigh.

“Hey—“ You squeak, pushing at his head which causes him to chuckle, “You’re doing that on purpose.”

The kisses on your thighs grow sloppy before he moves his arms from around your legs to nudge them apart, his body fitting between your legs. He quickly maneuvers your thighs until the backs of your thighs press against the tops of his shoulders, arms wrapping around your legs to keep you against him. “What? I’m just getting comfortable, my love.” He plays off innocently, his cheek squishing against one of your thighs as he looks up at you.

Your brows furrow, heat crawling up your neck as you glare back suspiciously, “I know what you’re doing.”

“And is it a bad thing?” He chimes back, going back to kissing your thighs.

You shiver, feeling his wet lips leave a trail of saliva to air along the insides of your thighs, “You know I’m—“

“Sensitive? Yeah,” He trails off with a noise that sounds like a groan mixed with a hum.

At this point, you feel a tingle crawl up your spine and warmth spread across your face. A fuzziness begins to form in your mind as his lips grow closer to the edge of your sleep shorts.

He pauses when he gets to your shorts, his face pulling away and his hands coming to tug at the hem of your shorts. “Want these off,” He mumbles, pulling at them.

You’re quick to lift your hips and slip your shorts down your legs, Dazai’s hands fumbling along yours to throw them to the side. He buries his face between your legs once more to press his lips along your inner thighs until he reaches your underwear. His face pushes forward until his lips press against your cunt and nose nudges your clit through the thin fabric.

A strangled moan passes your lips as he meets your flustered gaze, and although you can’t see his mouth with it pressed against you— you can tell he’s smirking through his eyes.

He softly breathes in before placing a searing kiss against your clothed pussy, causing your thigh to slightly twitch in his grasp. “I missed this pretty little pussy— haven’t tasted it in days,” He groans before bringing a finger to pull your underwear aside and reveal your glossy folds to him. His gaze is greedy as he parts your folds with two fingers, mouth watering at your slicked insides.

“Don’t stare…”

“Awe, but I can’t help it— looks so good,” Dazai breathes out before leaning forward to slip his tongue flat between your spread folds, licking up to your clit to collect your taste on his tongue. “Tastes good too…” He groans, lapping his tongue through for a second time, “I could spend the whole day eating this pussy out until you’re quivering and begging for me to stop.”

A strung-out whimper escapes your throat as you watch him. Heat burns the nape of your neck, the dizzy feeling hitting you twice as hard as your eyelids lull.

Dazai is shameless in his sucking and slurping of lips and tongue against your dripping cunt as loudly as possible. He doesn’t hold back any of his needy groans and muffled whimpers as he tastes every drop of arousal you have to offer. He strains painfully against the confines of his pants as he holds back the urge to fold you in half and fuck you on his cock until your drooling cunt is filled to the brim with his cum.

His tongue delves into your tight hole, the warm muscle wriggling against your clenching walls before sliding out. After repeating the process a few times, he moves to suck at your throbbing clit, sighing at the way it pulses against his tongue. There’s a small ‘pop’ when he pulls away reluctantly to replace his mouth with his lengthy, thin fingers.

“I love the way you squirm under my touch— drives me crazy— you know that?” Dazai grins before sinking a finger into your wet hole.

An airy gasp leaves your lips as you try to move away from him in surprise, only to have his grip tighten around your thigh with his free hand. “ ‘Samu, I—“ Your fingers clench into the sheets on the bed.

“I know, my love— feel good?” He borderline coos, eyes glued to the way you sucked his finger back in with every pump. “I bet it does, your fingers just don’t reach like mine, do they?” He adds a second finger, his digits curving into your gummy sweet spot.

Your hips involuntarily buck in to meet his thrusting fingers, your pussy squelching around his lithe digits. He leers at the obscene image of your sweet cunt swallowing his fingers down to the knuckle with a lewd moan.

“Good girl, keep fucking yourself on my fingers like that,” He croons, leaning forward to suck at your puffy clit again.

Surges of pleasure rampage within you as you clamp your shaking thighs around his head, grinding your aching pussy against his mouth and fingers. “M’gonna come, s’too much—“ You whimper.

“Come on my tongue— wanna feel that pussy clench around my fingers,” Dazai muffles a groan against your sensitive clit which has you coming undone and vehemently shivering from the feeling of your climax.

Dazai slides his fingers out of your pulsing hole and presses his tongue against your drenched pussy as you ride out your orgasm— his tongue not missing a single drip of arousal. He sighs quietly when he’s finished and pulls away, your bare sex covered in merely his spit now.

With your chest heaving from the aftermath, your head weakly shifts to watch Dazai sit up on his knees and hover over. “ ‘S-Samu…”

“Shh, I know, my love,” He laughs softly— and you think he’s going to redress you before cuddling into you like he usually does, but he doesn’t. Instead, his hand trails down to unzip his pants, the tip of his pre-cum leaking cock peeking out of his waistband. He pushes both his pants and boxers to his mid thighs before stroking his hard cock.

“You’re tired, so why don’t you just lay back and let me fuck that pretty pussy to sleep, hm?”

boyfriend!dazai who…

a/n : for my love @perfectlyjollyland who requested this ages ago but i didn’t see until recently because i only pay attention to my inbox! im so sorry ill be checking comments too next time, hope you’re well! <3

a/n : also i hope you’re okay with the pre-boyfriend/before boyfriend part, i just thought that’d be cute i love lovesick!dazai sooo much.. more boyfriend dazai under the cut!!

dividers used belong to @/benkeibear

masterlist | taglist | main page

pre-boyfriend!dazai who at the start asks you for a double suicide (as per usual), but when you give him the cutest smile and giggle and say no, he knows he’s too deep in now.

pre-boyfriend!dazai who becomes head over heels when he first meets you and now has a new mission, making you reciprocate those feelings.

pre-boyfriend!dazai who loves the cliches, the random ‘anonymous’ love notes on your desk when you’re at work or the random flowers delivered to your workplace/home - he loves it all.

pre-boyfriend!dazai who respects your boundaries if you were to tell him to lay off or if he was making you uncomfortable.

pre-boyfriend!dazai who finally gives up..gives up throwing hints and just decides to take his shot.

“So..say, if a handsome stranger who’s kind of not a stranger since you know him as an acquaintance asks you out because he’s given up with all of the deadpanned hints he’s been giving you for the past few months but he’s kind of scared of being rejected..what would you say?”

You stare him with a few blinks as he looks at you with a great smile on his face, although you can see subtle drops of sweat dripping down the side of his temple.

"..Is this said handsome stranger you, perchance?”

Dazai let’s out a single laugh, placing his hands on his hips.

“Ha! How bold of you, though..I am charmed your first thought of this handsome stranger would be me, bella~” He coyly smirks, closing his eyes in what you can’t tell is either pride or suspense.

You furrow your eyebrows with a little smile, fixing up your paperwork as you place them on the desk. “No, I just figured since it was you who’s been leaving such persistent and eager notes on my desk as of late.”

You watch his expression slightly change as he lets out a cough of embarrassment, locking eyes with you now.

“Well..” He starts, then gives up halfway through.

“..Is it a yes?”

pre-boyfriend!dazai who not only is taken by surprise by your response, but his heart does a few jumps in joy as his efforts became a success, making him now your boyfriend.

boyfriend!dazai who has his hand down your back pocket whenever you two are walking together.

boyfriend!dazai who’s love language is both physical touch and acts of service, always having his hands on you in the littlest way and also providing the most he can to his s/o.

boyfriend!dazai who has the reputation of being quite the flirtatious one, gives it up to his precious s/o.

boyfriend!dazai who googles cheesy and dirty pickup lines to try and rizz you with, always ending them in a winky face.

boyfriend!dazai who sends you little messages every day now that he has your number, little words of affirmations and talks to get you ready for your days.

boyfriend!dazai who if he had a tiktok account he’d make slideshows of you two and repost videos of couples relating to you two.

boyfriend!dazai who you spend all of your holidays with, especially christmas and new years.

boyfriend!dazai who practically lives at your house now, but nobody’s complaining.

boyfriend!dazai who has a box of every little thing you’ve given him, so when he’s feeling down he can look at it and smile.

boyfriend!dazai who tries to keep you away from his past, to protect you from the ugly truth.

boyfriend!dazai who opens up about oda, not all of it but most of it since he believes oda would’ve liked you.

boyfriend!dazai who takes you to the places he has the fondest memories in. the lupin bar, the art gallery, the agency.

boyfriend!dazai who appreciates the little things, as he’s not someone who can afford much he tries to give you the best he can.

boyfriend!dazai who always argues that he loves you more trying to get the last word and when you think you have it, you hear a little mumble of “I love you more” as you walk away.

boyfriend!dazai who loves your hands, tracing the lines of your palm and fingers and creating little shapes on them makes him feel at peace.

boyfriend!dazai who can be possessive but in a good way, he has good reasons to be possessive.

boyfriend!dazai who when he sees someone give you a half lidded smirk or bedroom eyes, he gives them a deadly stare that could imprint on their skull as he wraps an arm around your waist.

boyfriend!dazai who constantly babbles on about you at work with the agency, always telling Atsushi about the cutest things that you did the night before or what you did the day before that.

“Ahh..and the way they just clench their fists at their sides when they are angry with me! Ah~ I could melt..”

“That’s..really nice, Dazai-san..”

“Oh! And the way they grab my hand so tightly when we’re in public ahhh~ I could melt!”

“D-dazai-san..-“

“Ahhh, and the way the-“

boyfriend!dazai who ends up with about 14 wounds all over his body because of kunikidas beatings..kunikida says he’s lucky it wasn’t 15.

boyfriend!dazai who you take care of at his lowest.

boyfriend!dazai who sometimes can’t understand why you put up with him, but you reassure him with words and kisses all over his face.

boyfriend!dazai who peppers your face with kisses back and gives you a small smile despite how sad he can feel.

boyfriend!dazai who watches the fireworks with you and doesn’t think of going out just as beautifully because why would he let such a precious thing slip out of his hands like that?

boyfriend!dazai who doesn’t care about himself or his mental health, but cares the most about yours.

boyfriend!dazai who once felt like he was drowning, but then found his light to the surface who has a smile of diamonds and a heart of gold.

TAGLIST : @hauntedsol @hopefulpain @forgotten-blues @ruru-kiss @texas-bitch-yee @lvstyangel @thetizzler @is-therelife-onmars @atlasnessie @101strawberries101 @reesesnieces @suzurans-world @mackereland-slug @heartsfourdazai @iratherowan @onlinewhisper14 @nomnomventi

white = unable to be tagged :(

@/riiwrites - reblogs are highly appreciated ❤︎︎

hii, could you please write about katsuki x fem reader and how they just casually revealed their relationship to the class (eg. him cooking and sleepy reader comes down casually in his clothes or sum??) thank youu!!

A Sleepy Surprise

The smell of something delicious fills the dorm common area, making a few of Class 1-A’s students pause in their morning routines. You groggily stretch under the warm blankets before realizing that your usual alarm—Bakugo’s grumbling—has been replaced by the distant sound of something sizzling in a pan. The enticing aroma of food drifts up to your room, nudging you awake despite the sleep still clinging to you.

Without much thought, you pull yourself out of bed, rubbing at your eyes as you shuffle toward the door. Bakugo’s hoodie is the first thing you grab, slipping it over your head, the fabric swallowing your frame comfortably. The scent of him, something warm and familiar, lingers in the material. You don’t bother changing out of his sweatpants from the night before, the waistband cinched just enough to stay up, though the legs are too long and drag slightly as you walk.

Still half-asleep, you slowly make your way down the stairs, guided by the promise of food. As you step into the common area, a few voices murmur, but you barely register them. Your focus is entirely on the kitchen, where Bakugo stands at the stove, flipping a pancake with effortless precision.

He barely glances at you as he shifts the frying pan to another burner. “Sit down. Food’s almost done.”

You hum sleepily in response, dragging yourself to the counter. The class, however, goes completely silent. It’s the kind of silence that feels heavy, like everyone is holding their breath, waiting for something to explode.

You miss the wide-eyed stares, the way Denki nudges Mina, who claps a hand over her mouth, or how Kirishima’s brows shoot up in surprise. You’re too busy resting your head on your folded arms, the warmth of the kitchen lulling you back toward sleep.

“Smells good,” you mumble, voice still thick with sleep.

Bakugo scoffs, setting a plate in front of you. “Yeah, yeah, hurry up and eat before you pass out on the damn table.”

You grab your fork without a second thought, taking a bite of the food he made just for you, savoring the flavors as your brain slowly catches up with the world around you. "This is amazing, 'Suki."

The explosion of noise is almost immediate.

“WAIT, WAIT, WAIT.” Denki practically screeches, making you wince. “Did she just—Did she just call him—?”

“‘SUKI??” Mina gasps, hands on her cheeks. “OH MY GOD.”

“Are you two dating?” Iida asks, pushing his glasses up in pure disbelief.

Bakugo turns his sharp crimson glare on them, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “What, you extras deaf or somethin’? ‘Course we are.”

A chorus of “WHAAAAAT?!” erupts from your classmates, ranging from Kirishima’s proud laughter to Mineta’s dramatic wailing about life being unfair. You just blink sleepily at the chaos, still munching on your breakfast like this is the most normal thing in the world.

Momo clasps her hands together. “Well, I must say, I’m happy for you two! Though… I am surprised. How long have you been together?”

“Eh, a while,” Bakugo grumbles, flipping another pancake. “Didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Uraraka gasps. “A while?! And you never told us?!”

You finally look up, rubbing your eyes. “Didn’t think we had to?” you mumble.

Kirishima grins, throwing an arm around Bakugo’s shoulders. “Bro! You should’ve told me! I could’ve given you relationship advice!”

Bakugo smacks his arm away. “Yeah, like I need advice from your dumbass.”

Sero chuckles. “Man, if she wasn’t literally sitting there in your clothes, I wouldn’t believe it.”

“I dunno, I think it’s kinda cute,” Mina says, nudging you with a knowing smirk. “Our little firecracker is all soft for you, huh?”

You smile sleepily, still too drowsy to feel embarrassed. “Yeah,” you admit easily, making the class erupt in more screams while Bakugo grumbles about everyone being too damn loud.

But he doesn’t deny it.

imagine long-term bf katsuki being hung up on what engagement ring to buy you. he’s gnawing at his cheeks, constantly sighing and running his fingers through his hair for a couple of months, trying to find a ring that’s good enough for you.

after patrol, he browses every reputable jewellery store in tokyo, searching for your engagement ring. he takes pictures of every one he thinks might suit you and sends them to eijiro.

shitty hair: idk about this one man. diamonds are nice but y/n gives more garnet or ruby vibes

explosive: the fuck you mean? i have to get her diamonds

shitty hair: nah bro, you should get something that suits her. not every girl wants diamonds.

explosive: stfu i know what she wants better than you do

shitty hair: 🤷‍♂️ just my opinion man

you noticed immediately that katsuki was coming home later than he usually does. you didn’t say anything at first because maybe something came up, and he did seem really exhausted.

but as weeks turn into months, you become suspicious. what is it that your boyfriend's doing after work that you can’t know about. he hasn’t changed how he treats you. if anything, he’s been even softer and sweeter with you lately.

you decide to confront him about it.

you sit at the kitchen table, waiting for him to come home. as 8pm fades into 10pm and drips into 12am, your anxiety ramps up. your palms are all sweaty and your heart beats erratically in your chest.

you’re on your feet as soon as the lock eventually clicks and the front door is forced open. you stalk up to a sleepy katsuki, who flings his duffel bag on the floor with a sigh.

when he turns around, you’re looking at him angrier than ever. there’s fire in your eyes as you stare up at him, your brows knitted together and jaw tight.

you spit out, “where have you been?” katsuki blinks slowly, too tired to register your words and respond. he moves to throw his arms around you, but you step back, dodging his embrace.

this time, you repeat yourself with more venom, “where have you been?” you sigh, “i’ve been waiting for you since eight.”

he grunts thickly, “why’d you stay up, babe?” you roll your eyes and slightly suck in your cheeks.

you say exasperatedly, “because i was worried about you. you’ve been coming home late from work for the last two months now.” you fold your arms beneath your chest as you scold him, “so where have you been?! seriously, like, where the fuck have you been wandering off to while i make you dinner and do your laundry?”

katsuki shakes his head, whispering, “baby, s’not like that.”

you catch his words and scoff, “so then, what is it like? i clearly don’t know so why don’t you tell me?”

his full lips draw into a hard line as he huffs, contemplating whether to tell you he’s been hunting for the perfect engagement ring for his perfect girl… and that he’s finally found one. it wasn’t easy, especially since he has just put up with yappertron 3000 chargebolt, skateboard freak elbows, and shitty hair for the past three hours while acquiring this ring.

he bites his tongue, mumbling, “look, i’ve just been busy, yea?”

you chuckle derisively, “you’ve been busy? right, okay.” you turn around and begin walking away from him when he catches your elbow. his grip is firm but considerate.

he tugs you back, making you stumble into his chest. you try to shove him away, but he doesn’t even budge as he draws you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly.

you shout, “just fuck off, katsuki!”

wincing, he rests his chin on the top of your head and murmurs, “no more late nights, baby, i promise. at least not for a while.” his body is so warm against yours, and his musk is so strong. you give up your assault on his concealed but delicious muscles and still in his grasp.

you grumble, “it’s not about the late nights, katsuki. it’s about you keeping things from me.” he kisses the top of your head and rubs circles on your back with his calloused palms.

he mutters into your hair, “i’ll tell you soon, okay?” you shake your head before tilting it back, returning his soft gaze with your harsher one.

you murmur, “so you’re not cheating on me? or are you cheating on me but intend to come clean?” your boyfriend’s mouth falls open as he stares at you, his blond brows raised slightly. regaining his composure, his usual scowl is back on his face.

he grumbles, “cheating? why the fuck would i be cheating on you?!” he licks his lips and gazes past you for a moment, sighing, “for fuck’s sake, babe. god, why the fuck would i be cheating on you? d’you really think i’m a cheater?!” you shake your head, taken aback by his sudden frustration.

he shouts, “I’VE NEVER CHEATED! NEVER! NOT LIKE FUCK-ASS DEKU WHO DIDN’T EVEN HAVE A QUIRK AND THEN—”

you gently pat his chest as you try to soothe him, “okay, okay, honey, it’s okay. i know you’re not a cheater.” after a few minutes, he calms down (for the most part).

he grunts, “d’you really think i’d do that?” a droplet of his spit hits your eyebrow. you go to wipe it away but he beats you to it, apologising all the while. you reassure him it's okay as you stroke his well-defined back up and down.

you say softly, “of course not. but if you’re not cheating on me, then what else are you doing? i just don’t understand, suki.” he shakes his head before settling back into the crook of your neck; his resting place.

he murmurs into your hot flesh, “just give me a few days n’ i’ll tell you, alright?” you pull back, cupping his cheeks with your hands while his fingers clench the back of your shirt.

you shake your head, saying, “you can tell me now.”

he huffs, “babe—”

“no,” you cut him off. “tell me now. i deserve to know why you’ve been coming home so late.” he gazes down momentarily as his fingers curl into your shirt even more, close to tearing the fabric with how tight his grip is.

he mumbles, “stubborn brat.”

it’s like something snaps. he releases your shirt from his killer grasp and smirks. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvety red, ring box.

he grabs your wrist and places it in your palm, saying, “that’s the reason.” he gazes at you expectantly, waiting for you to open the box. but you’re in shock.

your wide eyes bore into his narrow ones as you blink dumbly. your lips are slightly parted, open enough for the flies to make a home in your mouth. and they could with how little you’re registering right now. you can’t think or speak or move. all you know is that your long-term partner just placed a ring box in your hand.

katsuki rolls his eyes, attempting to hide the pain in his expression as you continue staring at him. he huffs, “well, are you gonna open it or not?”

you nod, your mouth awfully dry. you seal your lips as you shakily open the box. inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. leaves protrude from the band and petals encircle a bright ruby glistening in the golden living room light; a rose. your gaze flickers up to him before switching back to the ring, and then back up to him.

you stutter, “a-are y-you, u-um, a-ask-asking m-me t-too—”

“yes,” he says solemnly. “you’re everything to me, baby. s-so, yea, will you be my wife?” you nod furiously. smirking, he takes the little box from your hand and slips the ring onto your finger. all the tension pent up in his body dissipates as he embraces you once more.

you squeeze his slutty waist tight as you begin tearing up, trying to process that your boyfriend just became your fiancé. katsuki sweetly kisses your forehead before resting his against yours.

he mutters, “i don’t tell you how much i love you enough. clearly like fuck. i fuckin’ love you, baby girl. more than you’ll ever know.”

a/n: link to the engagement ring design here (please lmk if it doesn't work); just imagine that it's a ruby and not a diamond.

boxer bakugou au drabble!!

an: based off this video! a little smutty at the end. minors dni. hey again

your boyfriend walks out of his en-suite bathroom with a pristine white towel slung low around his waist, skin moist and shiny just from the shower. the binded cotton wrap around his abdomen not only makes you wince from the bruises underneath but makes you pout from his gorgeous muscled body being hidden away. he roughly dries his hair with a hand towel, always so rough as he holds his phone in his other hand.

you’ve both come home from his match, his winning boxing match. it’s been a long, action packed, anxiety rushing day for you and adrenaline punched day for him. cameras everywhere, flashing lights too. you’ve actually barely seen him today since as soon as you arrived to the arena, he was rushed away for some last minute training. having a boxer for a boyfriend isn’t for the weak, watching him get hurt on a public stage for everyone to see… but it only makes you more grateful to come home with him and snuggle in bed together at the end of the day. especially when the golden belt hangs off the side of the bed.

bakugou katsuki is usually exhausted nearing three am after a match. energy wiped from being pumped up for the week and his whole body shutting down for well needed rest. you’re expecting him to whine at you to move over so he can squeeze in next to you and kiss you to sleep.

instead he’s glued to his phone with a grin showing every single tooth in his mouth. he’s watching something, a video on repeat and you’re sure that’s your voice on the other end.

he begins to chuckle after his fiftieth watch. throwing his hair towel in the basket and grabbing some clean shorts.

“you’re so insane, baby. y’know i love you so fuckin’ much.”

his words burn all over your skin. technically it was half a compliment but you’ll take it all the same.

“insane? what are you watching?”

he yanks on his shorts, dropping the towel around his waist and heads towards you laying on his bed. you’re just in one of his big t-shirts and panties.

he slides in beside you carefully because of his bruised ribs.

“i was sent this from management. you’re adorable. my girl.”

your boyfriend shows you the video he’s been watching all evening. it currently has thousands of views.

it starts with these two guys you saw earlier in the evening talking into microphones by the boxing stage katsuki was about to get on. they both look unprofessional, like losers honestly.

“bakugou’s been shit this season, he’s gonna get murdered up there by shindou, i’ll tell you that for free!” one says laughing obnoxiously.

“he can barely hit a right hook. all bark and no bite that guy.”

you’re walking behind them, only trying to get to your seat with security guards in front and behind you. then you realise what they’re saying and you walk over to the two men to yank the microphone out of his hands. the men are gobsmacked, jaws dropped and mumbling to get the microphone back. the camera swings to you, looking stunning with your leather jacket and jeans. you’re glowing under all the lights, paired with a furious frown.

“you both say all of this shit in front of the camera but could never say this to his face. nothing you’re saying is factual, just talking straight out of your ass for what? the couple views being your mother and your dog. go get a life!” then you press the microphone in the man’s chest and walk away.

the camera struggles around then records the floor before cutting out.

watching the video back you’re perhaps a little embarrassed, acting on your emotions isn’t something you do regularly but someone saying shit about your boyfriend and you’re an engine ready to start.

“i fuckin’ love this video. my fuckin’ girl,” bakugou chuckles with pride, the pain in his abs non existent as he looks over at you. he drops his phone on his chest to give you a long smooch.

it’s minty from just brushing his teeth and his lips are moist from vaseline he scrubbed on. you give him two pecks at the end with your hand caressing his cheek.

“nothing they said made sense and they’d shit themselves if they met you in person. somebody had to say it,” you defend, all while bakugou grins at you like you’re an angel that is visiting him for the evening.

“yeah, you had to say it. stickin’ up for me while i’m backstage. you dunno what this means to me babe.” his eyes flicker to your lips then your eyes, “thanks. and you looked fuckin’ sexy doin’ it.”

you laugh softly, “obviously. i’d always stick up for you. people lying about you makes me so mad.”

he hums, “stop talkin’ you’re gonna get me excited.”

you roll your eyes but you’re so enamoured by him. just like he is by you.

“anything you want, you did win today.”

a kiss on your forehead then ruby jewels meet yours. “i wanna eat you out for a bit? my reward for tonight.”

his reward is pleasuring you for the night? you need to grab microphones off idiots more often.

TRAIL OF BROKEN HEARTS

TŌRU OIKAWA x f! reader

“cause i’ve made some real big mistakes but you made the worst one look fine. i should’ve known it was strange.”

cw: college au, older brother’s best friend!oikawa (older brother is iwaizumi ofc), mutual pining (but oikawa is dumb and doesn’t know how to handle his feelings), nsfw (mdni), slight angst, smut, drunk sex, creampie, mentions of alcohol use (brief), pet names (baby, pretty girl)

word count: 5.9k

a/n: for my pookie tōru!!! hehe of course i’m posting something for him, i’ve been having severe tōru brainrot and i just HAD to write. © divider: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

“Say it..” Oikawa panted, umber eyes staring intently at your own, clouded with lust.

Loud music that penetrated the thin walls of the frat house slowly turned mellow—the sharp beats, and bass that had vibrations coursing through your veins were drowned out as every minute passed. Occasional cheers of many intoxicated college students that littered the house were watered down into a muffled mess as your ears rang from the sheer tension slowly building inside the walls of this very room you were in. That’s right, it was only the two of you—you and Oikawa, all alone with the door locked behind him.

Your cheeks warmed under his intense stare, moonlight that seeped from the window casting a faint glow on the side of his handsome face, accentuating his features and bringing out its sharpness that you’ve grown to love—pools of endless hazel glimmering from the silvery light. You swallowed thickly, his hot breath fanning over your face as he waited for your response. Your skin burned under Oikawa’s touch, his hand rested on your hip, and the other planted on the pillow, just beside your head to brace his torso.

He needed you to say that you wanted him—all of him—before doing anything further with you. Yes, his head spun from the mix of lust and alcohol but he was still in the right mind to ask you whether you wanted this or not because after all, you were his best friend’s younger sister. God, there were so many things wrong with this but neither of you cared; not when you’ve already exchanged a passionate kiss before entering the room, moaning his name into his mouth as his lips desperately collided against your own.

Fuck, Oikawa had been waiting, waiting, and waiting for this. There wasn’t a day where his mind didn’t wander to you, sometimes wandering a bit too deep for his liking which usually ended up with his hand wrapped around his hard cock, desperately fisting it as your name escapes his parted lips. He’s been waiting long enough, and tonight was the night he decided to do something about whatever he felt deep inside. Oikawa knew he’d be dead if he ever told Hajime about any of this, which is why he kept it all to himself but it didn’t help how his fantasies drove him up the wall—his body yearning for you to the extent where he swore it was almost painful.

Everything that led up to this moment was a blur, kind of. All you knew was that Oikawa was all over you as soon as you stepped foot in the house. His hand wrapped loosely around your waist, him pulling you onto his lap, his lingering stares; normally, you wouldn’t even bat an eye at him since he effortlessly made you nervous in his presence but you blamed the alcohol in your system. Oikawa mentally cursed himself for being so mean by slightly rejoicing at the fact that his best friend—your brother—couldn’t make it to tonight’s party due to being rostered for a shift.

This was all new to you because Oikawa had never given you this much attention for the entirety that you’ve known him—the two of you weren’t even close. Your older brother, Hajime, being the middle ground for both you and Oikawa. There were small exchanges of formalities here and there but that was just about it but tonight was different, he followed you everywhere and you let him—like two celestial bodies locked in an endless orbit around each other, bound by gravity. But what exactly was this gravity for both of you?

There was this voice at the back of your mind that told you this was wrong. That this would end it a messy disaster, given his reputation—not only loved and adored by many women but also surrounded. A ladies’ man, if you must, all thanks to his popular history with volleyball. You’ve always known deep down that Oikawa would never reciprocate your feelings because he merely saw you as Hajime’s younger sister, and acted like nothing but an older brother to you. But up until now, everything you believed didn’t seem so believable anymore; not when Oikawa had you underneath him, eyes blown with pure lust.

Maybe this time, this time you’ll shut out that pesky little voice in your head because you wanted nothing more than him—the man that’s got you trapped between his body and the mattress in a stranger’s bedroom, your brother’s best friend. Whatever comes after this, you’ll face head on but you trusted Oikawa to handle your heart gently despite the trails of broken hearts he’s left behind—something in you knew he wasn’t going to let you down. Nonetheless, you prayed to the stars above that you were right about this. About him.

Pleasure now, consequences later.

“I want you..” You breathed out, chest heaving up and down as your breaths became shallower with every passing minute.

Oikawa cursed under his breath before dipping his head down to kiss you. This time, his kisses weren’t as eager as earlier, they were slow and sensual; cherishing every second the way your pillowy lips moved against his own, and how it felt. The desperation behind Oikawa’s kisses were long gone, like he was rest assured that you weren’t going anywhere else, that you chose to be here with him. You reached your hands out, shakily grabbing the collar of his shirt as he shoved his tongue past your lips.

He placed a knee between your legs, situating it under your skirt, right at the apex where you needed him the most but he didn’t dare move it; it drove you absolutely crazy, the pressure on your cunt was there but it wasn’t enough to elicit some kind of pleasure—it also didn’t help how there was no friction at all. Whining into his mouth, you moved your hips up and down, grinding your clothed cunt against his knee. Oikawa pulled away from the heated kiss, the corners of his lips tugging into a smirk as he watched you desperately rut your hips into his knee. “How eager..” His tone was saccharine, sweeter than what he usually uses around other women.

If Oikawa was being honest right now, he was completely shitting himself. Not because it was his first time, no, but because it was you. You weren’t some other woman who would fall to his feet from mere flirtatious expressions which were often not genuine—hell, he’s pretty sure you never even saw him as a man but instead just another older brother figure. Oikawa knows this was wrong, completely wrong; he won’t blame you if you were confused out of your mind right now, given how he’s been acting neutral towards you for the past years you’ve known each other, and now suddenly he was all over you.

It was like he was put in a trance as his eyes wandered across your features. Fuck, you looked so pretty and it was all for him. Oikawa hastily grabbed the hem of your blouse and yanked it above your head, exposing the white lacy bra you donned underneath—his eyes traced your front, from the valley of your breasts down to your stomach. You were only half naked and yet you already left him speechless.

Oikawa didn’t hesitate to strip down to his underwear, he also didn’t give your eyes enough time to wander down his torso by flipping your skirt up and parting your legs further. At this point, the alcohol coursing through his body made him hornier and more impatient. He planted your feet on the bed, bringing your knees up before peppering your inner thighs with sloppy, wet kisses that earned small whimpers from you—Oikawa held your gaze as he kissed your clothed cunt.

You sucked in a sharp breath as you stared at his lustful gaze, your hands gripping the hem of your skirt at his lewdness. It wasn’t your first time having sex with someone but Oikawa was just so different from the ones you’ve slept with—so lewd, so dirty, and not as adventurous as the other’s you’ve had. “O-Oikawa.. Haah..” A moan slipped past your lips as he licked the wet spot on your underwear, the tip of his tongue stiffening to apply pressure at your sopping entrance.

“Hmm? So wet f’me already..” You threw your head back at the friction from his fingers that were rubbing up and down your clothed cunt. Oikawa’s smug smile widened as the wet spot on your panties grew from his ministrations, earning another moan from you as you clenched around nothing. “Oikawa, please. I want you in me..” You whined, the warmth from your cheeks spreading to your ears as you held his gaze. You didn’t miss the way his hazel eyes glimmered at your pathetic plea.

He tilted his head to the side, fingers still rubbing at your clothed cunt, “Oh? It looks like you don’t want me at all, baby. Your begging sounds pathetic.” The drunken words he slurred earned a slight whimper from you. You felt defeated that he was making you beg more for him when you were already as impatient as you could get. “Mhm.. Please, Tōru..? Fuck. I want your cock inside me.”

Oikawa would’ve asked you to beg for him more if you didn’t use his first name. Fuck, something about the way his name rolled off your tongue made his cock twitch. He used to fantasise about you moaning his name underneath him, and now that it’s right in front of him, he won’t let it go any time soon.

“Let’s get these off first, hm? Show me yourself, pretty girl.” Oikawa skilfully snaked his hands behind your back to unclasp the lacy restriction on your chest. Before you could even compose yourself, he eagerly pulled your bra from your chest—goosebumps immediately forming from the cool night air. “Oikawa, h-hold on..!” Your arms defensively crossed over your chest, hiding your breasts from his view. “Mmm, there’s no reason to hide from me is there? After all, I’m going to be fucking that sweet cunt soon.” Oikawa circled his hands around your wrists, gently tugging them out of the way and pinning them on either side of your head to expose your breasts.

He bit his lip at the view. Fuck, it was just like how he imagined when he fisted his cock to the thought of you. Your heart pounded against your chest, getting extremely shy from the way Oikawa was eyeing your breasts a little too long for your liking. He let out a breathless laugh, not missing the way you turned your head to the side from embarrassment. He slowly let go of your wrists to cup at each mound, his large palms perfectly covering the entirety of each breast.

Your lips parted to let out a soft moan, face contorting in pleasure as Oikawa massaged your breasts—he switched between squeezing the supple skin and lightly pinching at your hardened buds, earning a small yelp from you. “Baby, as much as I’d love to spend more time playing with your tits, I’m sure we both have one thing in mind.” He gave you a saccharine smile before placing a chaste kiss on the valley of your breasts.

Oikawa pulled back to remove the last article of clothing he had on, your keen eyes watched as he slowly pulled down the fabric, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen as he fully exposed himself. You bit your lip at his cock, your gaze tracing every ridge along his shaft. Not only was it pretty but fuck, was it long. Pride swelled upon Oikawa’s chest as he saw the way you keenly eyed his cock. You watched as he wrapped a hand around the shaft and languidly stroked it, throwing his head back in pleasure.

As if on instinct, you sat up from the mattress with your hands jutted, wanting to grab his pretty cock—your head spun a bit from the swift movement. “Ah, ah, ah. There’s another time for that, my pretty. I want to be inside you right now.” Oikawa grabbed your shoulder and gently pushed your torso back down on the mattress before climbing over your body once again.

Another time? Was that a sincere promise or an empty one? You couldn’t help but think.

With your skirt flipped up, he pushed aside your soaked panties to tease his tip at your wet entrance. You threw your head back at the raw skin contact, allowing Oikawa to dip his head down to pepper your collarbone with open-mouthed kisses.

“Fuck.. P-Please just put it in, ‘Kawa..” “Mhm, that’s Tōru for you.”

Oikawa breathlessly chuckled against your skin, and before you could retort, he pushed the blunt tip of his cock past your wet folds, earning a whine from both of you. Your hands flew to wrap around his torso, nails gently scratching at his back as he pushed his cock in inch by inch—tracing every dip and curve of his back muscles. Oikawa’s eyes rolled back at the sensation of your nails running down his back, sending a shiver up his spine as the pleasure within him grew.

“S-shit..! You’re so fucking tight, huh? This pussy is taking me so well—aah!” He let out a heated gasp as you clenched around him, his arms trembling and almost giving up from it. “Ngh! Just put it all in, Tōru.. I can take you.” Oikawa almost moaned out loud, not only did you use his first name again but you also reassured him that you could take his length just fine. That there was no need to hold back with you. His arms wobbled as he pushed the rest of his length in.

With his cock fully sheathed inside you, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out a long loud whine. Oikawa stayed that way for a while, heavy pants leaving his lips as he pulled himself together. Fuck, you were squeezing him so good. His nails dug deep into his palms as you scratched his back once again from the way the blunt tip of his cock kissed your cervix, he was about to lose his mind and he hadn't even started thrusting yet. “What? Best pussy you’ve had?” You panted, one hand snaking up to play with his chestnut strands.

Normally, Oikawa would’ve retorted with something cockier but what you said was true. He’d been fantasising long enough about your sweet cunt but he didn’t know it was going to be this good. Too good. “Of course.. And it’s all mine, yeah? Fuck, this pussy is all mine and no one else’s.” He lifted his head from your neck to meet your gaze—his cheeks were now a shade of crimson, lids heavy from lust.

“Yes, Tōru. All yours. I’m all yours.”

You didn’t miss the way Oikawa sucked in a sharp breath as he held your gaze. Both of you knew there was weight to your words—it had meaning behind them, and not spurred like a drunken, meaningless confession at the heat of the moment. But that was reserved for the morning, at least.

He pulled his hips back and started thrusting while giving you a passionate kiss, earning a loud muffled moan from you. Oikawa couldn’t believe this was actually happening and fuck, it was definitely much better than having a hand around his cock while imagining it was your cunt. The sound of skin slapping, squelching, and heated moans bounced around the thin walls of the room as he picked up his pace. Fortunately, these erotic sounds coming from the two of you were enough to be drowned out by the loud music originating from the living room.

Normally, Oikawa would’ve had you in a ‘face down, ass up’ position just like with the other girls he’s had—mainly because it was his favourite position but something about being in missionary with you was different, despite how boring he thought the position to be; Oikawa wanted to see the entirety of you, how you reacted to the pleasure he gave you, your breasts bouncing with every sharp thrust of his hips, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. All of it. Not to mention how intimate the position was, being able to look into your pretty eyes as he pounded into you, and whisper sweet praises that only you can hear.

“F-fuck..! So tight for me—ngh! Just like how I ima—aah! ..How I imagined.” Oikawa rested his forehead against your own, his hot breath fanning over your face as he angled his hips to drive his cock deeper. You let out a broken moan at the feeling of his heavy balls slapping your ass over and over again which each thrust; the slapping was so harsh that it felt like your skin was burning but fuck it burned so good. “Ha—aah! Tōru..! So so good—ngh!” Oikawa breathlessly chuckled at your broken moans before grabbing your leg to prop over his shoulder, driving his cock deeper into you.

You arched your back at the new angle, a heated gasp leaving your lips in the form of his name as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Oikawa held onto the headboard with one arm, the other one planted beside your head before moving his hips harder and faster, causing the bed to squeak loudly. His lips were parted, endless desperate whines escaping as his pretty face contorted in pure bliss—his sounds definitely did not disappoint, they were breathy and higher in pitch, so desperate and needy. His moans and whines went straight to your cunt, making you wetter with each erotic sound that came from the man above you.

“Mhm—aah! Yeah? Better than any dick you’ve had, right? Haah! Of course it is..” You clenched around him, earning a loud heated gasp, and his head bowing in pleasure. “So perfect f’me, my pretty girl..” Oikawa whined, bringing his lips closer to yours—he had a hard time chasing them due to your body jolting from his quick, rough thrusts; his own lips were parted, sloppily kissing you with desperation.

Your moans increased in pitch as the familiar knot in your stomach was slowly starting to thin, and ready to snap any time soon. “Ah..! Haah..! T-Tōru—ngh! I’m cu—ah! I’m cumming!” You tugged at his hazel strands, back arching off the mattress as your limbs started to tingle with pleasure. Oikawa moaned against your sweaty skin at the feeling of his hair being pulled, he had his face buried on your neck, his whines and whimpers loud against your ear. “Y-Yeah? Mhm—ah! Fuck! That’s right, cum for me, my pretty.” He trailed wet kisses along the side of your neck and up your jaw, leading to your lips.

“Look at me. Look at me when you fucking cum so you know who’s cock is making you feel this good—haah!” He pulled away from the heated kiss, grabbing your chin to keep his gaze on him by using the hand that was previously on the headboard, while the other rubbed tight circles on your clit. You looked up at Oikawa, his umber hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, no longer swept in a neat hairstyle. His lips were red, and swollen, parted to let out heavy pants while staring into your eyes. Fuck, he was beautiful. You couldn’t help but think that all the other women he’s had have seen this view before as well.

Oikawa looked down at you, eyelids threatening to close from immense pleasure but he didn’t dare give in, he wanted to see your face while you came around his cock—the face he’d been fantasising about since the day he realised he had feelings for you. Your face contorted in pleasure as the knot deep in your stomach finally snapped, mouth forming an ‘o’ as you screamed in silence, orgasm washing over your entire body as you came around him. Oikawa cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your face while breathlessly whispering sweet nothings as you two locked gazes. Your body trembled with a cry of his name, pleasure shooting up your spine, “Tōru..!” “F-Fuck! I’m here, baby.. Ngh!—So so good for me..” He whined desperately as you clenched around his cock, his hips stuttering.

“I—aah! Inside..” You moaned, head lolling to the side as you came down from your high. Oikawa didn’t know if he heard that right or he was just drunk, “Wha— Huh..?” Your words definitely sobered him up a bit but it made his head spin. “Cum inside me. Please, Tōru.. I want all of you.” He cursed under his breath, giving you a few more hard thrusts before letting go. Oikawa sheathed his cock deep inside you and held your torso against him, his arms securely wrapped around your trembling body as he lifted your back off the mattress.

With your chests pressed against each other, he gave you quick shallow thrusts as he came, fucking his cum deeper into you while moaning you name close to your ear. The leg that was propped on his shoulder burned from the stretch but you didn’t care, not when he was fucking you this good. “A-aah! Fuck..! That’s it—ngh! God, I love you so much.” Oikawa whined as he pressed his fingers against your back, the last bit of his hot cum spurting inside you. The two of you plopped down on the mattress with a soft thud, his head buried in the junction of your neck, letting out heavy pants as he tried collecting himself.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, your hands gently playing with his messy hair as you stared up at the ceiling, realisation slowly washing over you as you sobered up more than ever. Instead of catching your breath, it turned into panicked ones, realising that you’ve had sex with your older brother’s best friend. Oikawa noticed this and looked up at you, holding your panicked gaze as you were already looking down at him.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I love you? Did he really mean that or was it just from the heat of the moment? You definitely heard him say it, so you knew you weren’t just making it up, not when his lips were that close to your ear.

How foolish, you thought. What happens now? Worry settled in as you remembered the trail of broken hearts he had behind him. You knew it was wrong to judge a person this way but everyone—your brother included—was aware of the relationships Oikawa had. Yes, no one is perfect but yet most—if not all—his past relationships weren’t ideal, and some didn’t even last more than a month long while some clearly were just a one night stand. Was that where you stood with him? Just a one night stand? You let out a shaky exhale, “Tōru—” Oikawa cut you off with a sensual kiss, his lips eagerly moving against your own as if he had an idea of what was about to come next.

This didn’t make you feel better. You didn’t know why but there was something in your mind telling you that he wasn’t going to leave you hanging like this; your mind suddenly went back to earlier tonight, where Oikawa basically gravitated towards you, following you wherever you went. You felt something back there, like he wasn’t holding himself back anymore—not selling himself short like what he’s been doing for all the years you’ve known each other. Like he wore his heart on his sleeve.

He broke away from the kiss, umber eyes tracing your features as his thumb gently swiped your bottom lip. “D-did you really mean that..?” You stared into his eyes but he didn’t return your gaze nor answered the question, “Shhh.. Let’s just stay like this for a while.” Oikawa rolled over to the side, wrapping his arm around you from behind and resting his chin atop your head. You stared at the wall in front of you, unmoving and mind racing with unwanted thoughts. No matter how much his hand massaged your hip, it didn’t put you at ease because now you didn’t know where you stood with Oikawa after sleeping with him. Fuck, how were you even going to face your brother? What would he think of you?

Shit. You wouldn’t even know how to face Oikawa the next time you see him after this, that is, if you do see him. Not only did unwanted thoughts plague your mind but you also felt disgusting. For doing something like this with your brother’s best friend; yes, you’ve had feelings for him for as long as you could remember but did he even reciprocate them? Or did Oikawa just stick beside you tonight because you both had alcohol and he wanted to get in your pants? No. He asked you earlier if you really wanted this with him and you said yes.

Maybe you weren’t so foolish after all. Or so you thought.

It had been a few days since that night and you were fucking restless. Every single time your phone chimed from a notification, you’d be quick to grab it, hoping it's from the man you’ve been wanting to hear about but disappointment washes over you when his name doesn’t pop up. Panic builds up as the days pass without hearing anything from Oikawa. You didn’t even know why you were waiting, it wasn’t like he owed you anything but you just thought that maybe it would be different for you. It also wasn’t like he was obligated to contact you, maybe you really were just a one night stand for him, and that attraction you felt was one sided. Were you just really imagining it all? Were you just waiting for something that wasn’t going to happen?

“Iwa-chan!” You were pulled back from your trance as you heard a familiar voice coming from the living room, where Hajime was. Closing your notebook, you stood up from your desk and took a few steps before peeking through the slight crack of your door to see Oikawa happily chatting with your older brother. Your heart skipped a beat upon seeing his face, legs tingling with eagerness to go to him but what would you even say? It’s not like he promised you a relationship that night nor did he confess his feelings. You couldn’t help but remember those three words he told you but at this point, it looked like it was just from the heat of the moment. Those three words probably didn’t have any weight to it like it did when you stated that you were all his.

You stiffened as your brother called out your name, instinctively ducking down as if he caught you peeking. Making your way out of your room, you tried to act as normal as possible. “We’re going to head out for a bit. Do you want anything?” “Mmm, any food is fine. Thanks..” You replied before shifting your gaze to Oikawa who stared off to the side, not even acknowledging your presence. Normally, he would smile at you whenever he came over or even give you a pat on the head while he greets you. Hajime nodded before ushering his best friend out the door, Oikawa didn’t even look back. Not even once.

The door slammed shut, the sound reverberating through the whole apartment, and you were left with your mess of feelings. Ah, so he’s ignoring me, you thought. You didn’t even know why you were feeling this way. Was it because you hoped for something more given the feelings you’ve held for Oikawa for the past years? You sat on the couch, not knowing what to do—your mind kept replaying the words he said to you that night. How he told you he loved you; how he said he’s been imagining you in ways you didn’t even know. What was the meaning of that? You knew better than to believe these words given how his personality is but you couldn’t help hoping that there was at least some kind of feeling behind them.

You buried your face in your palms, letting out a deep sigh. You couldn’t even get angry at Oikawa because he never led you on in any way. For him, what happened that night was just plain sex but for you, you thought he was finally seeing you in a different light and not just his best friend's younger sister. And now you’re left with nothing but confusion. Another statistic to the trail of broken hearts that he wore like a cape, dragging behind him. You were frustrated at yourself for letting your feelings completely overtake your common sense.

A few days turned into a week but nothing changed for you. Oikawa was still on your mind but he never reached out to you—not that he was obligated to but you figured it was necessary, given his deep-rooted friendship with Hajime. At least a little discussion about that night would’ve helped you with your thoughts a bit but no, your mind was still a swirling mess. You cursed yourself every time you remembered your foolish mistake, you knew what you were getting yourself into and yet you bit onto the bait without thinking about the dire consequences to not only your feelings but also your relationship with Oikawa.

Maybe after all, you were just imagining it. That was the easiest fact there was—being delusional because you had feelings for him, so you instantly misread what he told you that night. You looked into words that never had a meaning behind them. Baseless sentences that held no feelings.

Deciding to study at a nearby café on a whim, you enter the cosy shop, the distinct aroma of roasted coffee beans and warm atmosphere of the café immediately putting your mind at ease. The café was filled with the soft chatter of customers, and the sounds of the coffee machine. Before taking a few steps to the counter where the cashier stood behind, you noticed a familiar brown-haired man sitting at one of the tables, and he wasn’t alone. Your heart skipped a beat as Oikawa already had his hazel gaze on you, his expression somewhere between surprised and panicked. He noticed your gaze drift to the person who sat in front of him—a woman—who happily talked about something you couldn’t exactly hear.

Seeing Oikawa with other women wasn’t new to you. After all, you’ve known him long enough for you to become accustomed to this sight despite your heart breaking a little. Throughout the years, you’ve managed to patch up the little cracks in your heart whenever you saw him with someone else—whether it be the flavour of the week or a relationship that lasts for a month but today, seeing him with a woman after being intimate with him was enough to break your heart into pieces. What you did next was purely out of instinct, your feet moved on their own, hasty steps out of the café just to get away from Oikawa; you didn’t know where you were going but you wanted him out of sight.

You knew you were being a complete idiot for acting this way. Hell, why were you even running away from him? Stupid. Foolish. Why am I acting like this?! You thought. You let out a shaky sigh, your nails digging into your palms as you swiftly walked down the footpath, trying to forget the way Oikawa’s face looked when he saw you.

The sound of shoes loudly hitting the concrete footpath behind you suddenly filled your ears, you stopped in your tracks as he called out your name—you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Oikawa knew exactly why he chased after you, it was almost like a reflex for him given how fast he stood up from his seat to run to you. He’s aware he’s been ignoring you for the past week, and he also knows it’s probably shitty of him to suddenly chase after you like this but Oikawa’s got a sinking feeling that if he didn’t chase after you, you’d slip away from his grasp. Forever.

Turning around, you crossed your arms over your chest as if to shield your naked heart. “What do you want, Oikawa?” He winced not only at your tone—sharp, and cold—but as well as the use of his last name. He didn’t know what to say if he was being honest; you watched as he opened his mouth but no words came out, gears turning in his head to find the right thing to say to you. “I meant it.” Oikawa held your gaze, brows knitted together. You knew what he meant by that, it was the answer to the question you asked him that night. You sucked in a sharp breath, heart pounding against your chest as if it was ready to leap out and jump straight into his hands like it belonged there—to be cherished, and loved.

As much as you wanted to jump with joy that he did, in fact reciprocate your feelings, it was anticlimactic. The overwhelming hurt and confusion you’ve felt for the past week was just consuming you. “I-I don’t..” You trailed off, not knowing what to say to him, especially when his umber eyes stared at you with such desperation. You’ve never seen Oikawa like this; he was usually a man of many expressions—mostly full of cunning, and ingenuine smiles but this one you haven’t seen.

“Look. I know I fucked up. I really do love you. I don’t know why I ran away—no I do know. I was scared because I’ve never been so serious about a woman, let alone my best friend’s younger sister.” He scratched his nape, taking a step closer to you. You watched him in silence, a wordless invitation for him to keep going.

Oikawa let out a shaky sigh. “I know saying sorry and this half assed explanation isn’t enough but.. these feelings I’ve had for you.. they’ve been here for as long as I could remember, and it fucking sucks that you had to find out through this mess. That night.. I don’t regret anything but I did wish it could have happened without any of these consequences. I know I’m asking for a lot but.. can we start again?” It was your turn to sigh, “It’s not that easy, Tōru.. but it really isn’t your fault as well.” Oikawa’s face softened at the use of his first name. “I mean, I knew what I was getting myself into. I admit that maybe I was just being a bit dramatic about this whole thing because I had feelings for you but looking back at it, there’s really no reason for you to be apologising..”

You took a step closer before wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his chest. Oikawa blinked, taken aback by your sudden action, nonetheless, he wrapped his arms around you—still trying to process the fact that you actually like him back. “T-That woman back there, we were meeting up for a project..” You chuckled at his reply before looking up at him to meet his hazel gaze, “There’s no need to explain to me, you know?”

Before he could reply, you smiled at him,

“I want to start again, Tōru. This time, no running away from our feelings?” “No running away.”

© mitsuyeaah