cxvii666

[cxvii666]

new chappy of hoe cakes for the huzz to enjoy !!!

“summer's over - interlude”

feat denki k. & hanta s.

“days in the sun.”

wc: 1.2k

part of the hoe cakes ep

starting track….

it was monday morning.

and stupid bright out.

one of those early spring days where it feels like the sun’s trying to trick you. because it’s shining like a bitch, but the winds still got that bite it in it, the type of day where everyone’s dressing like they want it to be warm, but refusing to admit that their legs are cold and they’ve got goosebumps all up their arms.

the campus quad is full: of noise, of people, of fake laughter and vape clouds.

students scattered across the grass, hoodies balled up as makeshift pillows, cheap picnic blankets with open laptops and textbooks that haven't been touched in a good twenty minutes.

sero’s stretched out on one of the stone benches under the big oak tree at the edge of the green, like he owns it.

he does, in a way. it's 'their' spot. the far left corner of campus, water fountain not too far away, good enough shade when the sky is too bright, and a perfect view of the rest of the quad.

one airpod in his ear, hoodie pulled over his head, legs long and crossed at the ankle. hanta's sunglasses are low on his nose as he lazily sips a smoothie through a neon pink straw. he looks relaxed, too relaxed for a guy with that many assignments due.

denki’s half-curled beside him, knee bouncing, too much caffeine and not enough sleep as usual. his cold monster can is sweating into the table and he’s wearing a beanie that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. he’s got his lunch half-uneaten beside him, a plastic container that was sweet and sour chicken, and that is now mostly cold rice, probably because he keeps running his mouth instead of eating.

mina’s perched across from them at the shitty metal patio table, absently picking at her nails, occasionally glancing at her phone, the device pinging with notifications.

her blonde best friend is talking her ear off. as per usual.

only this time, mina is almost half interested in his yap, because the topic of conversation is you.

“i still can’t believe we pulled that off,” denki says for approximately the tenth time that hour, punctuated by a pull from his geekbar, voice hushed but giddy.

sero just hums at his friend without looking up. “speak for yourself, bro. i been knew.”

“you been knew?” denki echoes, scandalized. “you were panicking like a little bitch when she said she wanted it.”

“i was being respectful.”

“you were sweating.”

“we were all sweating.”

“that’s ‘cos it was hot.”

“you’re a dumbass.”

“and you’re a slut”

mina groans, out loud, full of the pain of knowing that her friend's are hooking up with her other friends. “oh my god, can we, maybe, not do the full post-game analysis in public?”

denki spins toward her, wide-eyed, practically glowing with leftover afterglow energy that hasn’t left his bloodstream since saturday night.

“mina. mina. mina.”

she stares at him, deadpan. “what.”

“it was so good.”

“oh my god.”

“no like, like life-altering, actually,” denki insists, hands gesturing wildly with his vape like he’s explaining the secrets of the universe. “i see the world different now.”

“bro thinks he’s enlightened,” sero snickers.

“i am enlightened.”

“you got your dick wet.”

“and i made her come—”

mina makes a loud dramatic gagging noise. “eww, stop. i do not want or need the details.”

“yeah, well, we crushed it,” sero says smugly, tipping his smoothie at her like a cheers. “teamwork makes the dream work.”

mina narrows her eyes, unimpressed. “you idiots are lucky she even talks to you.”

“she doesn’t just talk to us, mina,” denki grins, voice dropping obnoxiously like he thinks he’s being smooth. “she waves at us.”

mina freezes. “no.”

“yes.”

“please don’t say it agai—”

“she waves.”

“i will literally kill you.”

“she’s into us,” sero leans back, all confidence, like it’s undeniable fact. “both of us.”

“so into us,” denki echoes.

“down bad.”

“so down bad.”

“completely.”

mina just watches them, blinking slowly, like watching a tragic documentary about two chimps learning language. “you two are actually brain damaged.”

“from sex,” denki says proudly.

“i hate you.”

they sit in comfortable stupidity for a while after that — the wind rustling through the trees. students walk by in loud clumps, someone’s started playing guitar under a tree like they’re trying to be in a coming-of age movie, a frisbee whizzes past them, a bit too close.

sero tips his head back against the stone, eyes half-lidded behind his shades as he takes a pull from the vape he stole from denki, and who is now scrolling aimlessly on his phone, and every once in a while exhales in amusement and turn the screen round to show his two friends whatever dumb ai meme that’s popped up on his reels.

then sero nudges the blonde’s arm. subtle but firm. “yo.”

“huh?”

“look.”

denki follows his gaze across the quad — and there you are, half-sitting, half-sprawling with your friends in a loose circle on the grass. legs crossed, a little messy. One arm thrown over your knee, the other waving lazily as you talk. sunglasses perched on your nose, cigarette dangling between your fingers, laughing at something.

and god your laugh. denki swears that his heart seizes for a second, although sero would argue that’s probably the mix of the carcinogenic in his energy drinks, and the amount of substances he abuses, in his bloodstream.

either way, your laugh is the type that pulls.

like gravity. like, a ripple in the air that shifts the vibe of everyone around you.

then you glance over.

and wave.

both boys freeze.

like. physically freeze.

denki chokes on air.

and sero chokes on the smoke crawling out of his nostrils.

“oh my god,” denki whispers.

“she waved at us,” sero says, voice breathless, like it’s physically difficult to process.

“she waved at us.”

“bro—i’m gonna pass out.”

“bro?? i can’t breathe.”

“she waved.”

“she waved.”

mina stares at them blankly for a beat like they’ve both been possessed.

“she was waving at me,” she deadpans.

they both turn to her in sync. “huh?”

“that’s my friend group, dipshits.”

“nah, bro,” sero blinks, shakes his head, serious. “that wave was directed.”

“insanely directed,” denki agrees, nodding so hard his beanie slips.

“you’re both delusional,” mina says flatly.

denki’s already spiraling, fingers tugging at the hem of his hoodie. “she made eye contact.”

“she made eye contact with me,” mina sighs. “because i’m her friend.”

“she smiled,” sero adds, doubling down.

“she always smiles, you morons.”

“but it was like… extra smile,” denki’s whole face flushes a little, voice turning a bit dreamy. “she’s so cute.”

“you’re an actual cartoon character,” mina says.

sero grins wide, stretching his back out casually. “you’re just jealous.”

“jealous of what exactly?” she says uninterestedly as she taps her lockscreen to check the time.

“that she’s obessed with us.”

“crazy for us,” denki echoes, picking up his half eaten takeout.

“i hope you both trip on your way to class,” mina replies with an eyeroll, grabbing her bag and standing up.

“and it’d be worth it,” sero calls out after her, to which she does not turn around, only sends him a middle finger, with her back to both idiots.

denki shrugs, still dazed, “so worth it.”

[cxvii666]

“summer's over - interlude”

feat denki k. & hanta s.

“days in the sun.”

wc: 1.2k

part of the hoe cakes ep

starting track….

it was monday morning.

and stupid bright out.

one of those early spring days where it feels like the sun’s trying to trick you. because it’s shining like a bitch, but the winds still got that bite it in it, the type of day where everyone’s dressing like they want it to be warm, but refusing to admit that their legs are cold and they’ve got goosebumps all up their arms.

the campus quad is full: of noise, of people, of fake laughter and vape clouds.

students scattered across the grass, hoodies balled up as makeshift pillows, cheap picnic blankets with open laptops and textbooks that haven't been touched in a good twenty minutes.

sero’s stretched out on one of the stone benches under the big oak tree at the edge of the green, like he owns it.

he does, in a way. it's 'their' spot. the far left corner of campus, water fountain not too far away, good enough shade when the sky is too bright, and a perfect view of the rest of the quad.

one airpod in his ear, hoodie pulled over his head, legs long and crossed at the ankle. hanta's sunglasses are low on his nose as he lazily sips a smoothie through a neon pink straw. he looks relaxed, too relaxed for a guy with that many assignments due.

denki’s half-curled beside him, knee bouncing, too much caffeine and not enough sleep as usual. his cold monster can is sweating into the table and he’s wearing a beanie that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. he’s got his lunch half-uneaten beside him, a plastic container that was sweet and sour chicken, and that is now mostly cold rice, probably because he keeps running his mouth instead of eating.

mina’s perched across from them at the shitty metal patio table, absently picking at her nails, occasionally glancing at her phone, the device pinging with notifications.

her blonde best friend is talking her ear off. as per usual.

only this time, mina is almost half interested in his yap, because the topic of conversation is you.

“i still can’t believe we pulled that off,” denki says for approximately the tenth time that hour, punctuated by a pull from his geekbar, voice hushed but giddy.

sero just hums at his friend without looking up. “speak for yourself, bro. i been knew.”

“you been knew?” denki echoes, scandalized. “you were panicking like a little bitch when she said she wanted it.”

“i was being respectful.”

“you were sweating.”

“we were all sweating.”

“that’s ‘cos it was hot.”

“you’re a dumbass.”

“and you’re a slut”

mina groans, out loud, full of the pain of knowing that her friend's are hooking up with her other friends. “oh my god, can we, maybe, not do the full post-game analysis in public?”

denki spins toward her, wide-eyed, practically glowing with leftover afterglow energy that hasn’t left his bloodstream since saturday night.

“mina. mina. mina.”

she stares at him, deadpan. “what.”

“it was so good.”

“oh my god.”

“no like, like life-altering, actually,” denki insists, hands gesturing wildly with his vape like he’s explaining the secrets of the universe. “i see the world different now.”

“bro thinks he’s enlightened,” sero snickers.

“i am enlightened.”

“you got your dick wet.”

“and i made her come—”

mina makes a loud dramatic gagging noise. “eww, stop. i do not want or need the details.”

“yeah, well, we crushed it,” sero says smugly, tipping his smoothie at her like a cheers. “teamwork makes the dream work.”

mina narrows her eyes, unimpressed. “you idiots are lucky she even talks to you.”

“she doesn’t just talk to us, mina,” denki grins, voice dropping obnoxiously like he thinks he’s being smooth. “she waves at us.”

mina freezes. “no.”

“yes.”

“please don’t say it agai—”

“she waves.”

“i will literally kill you.”

“she’s into us,” sero leans back, all confidence, like it’s undeniable fact. “both of us.”

“so into us,” denki echoes.

“down bad.”

“so down bad.”

“completely.”

mina just watches them, blinking slowly, like watching a tragic documentary about two chimps learning language. “you two are actually brain damaged.”

“from sex,” denki says proudly.

“i hate you.”

they sit in comfortable stupidity for a while after that — the wind rustling through the trees. students walk by in loud clumps, someone’s started playing guitar under a tree like they’re trying to be in a coming-of age movie, a frisbee whizzes past them, a bit too close.

sero tips his head back against the stone, eyes half-lidded behind his shades as he takes a pull from the vape he stole from denki, and who is now scrolling aimlessly on his phone, and every once in a while exhales in amusement and turn the screen round to show his two friends whatever dumb ai meme that’s popped up on his reels.

then sero nudges the blonde’s arm. subtle but firm. “yo.”

“huh?”

“look.”

denki follows his gaze across the quad — and there you are, half-sitting, half-sprawling with your friends in a loose circle on the grass. legs crossed, a little messy. One arm thrown over your knee, the other waving lazily as you talk. sunglasses perched on your nose, cigarette dangling between your fingers, laughing at something.

and god your laugh. denki swears that his heart seizes for a second, although sero would argue that’s probably the mix of the carcinogenic in his energy drinks, and the amount of substances he abuses, in his bloodstream.

either way, your laugh is the type that pulls.

like gravity. like, a ripple in the air that shifts the vibe of everyone around you.

then you glance over.

and wave.

both boys freeze.

like. physically freeze.

denki chokes on air.

and sero chokes on the smoke crawling out of his nostrils.

“oh my god,” denki whispers.

“she waved at us,” sero says, voice breathless, like it’s physically difficult to process.

“she waved at us.”

“bro—i’m gonna pass out.”

“bro?? i can’t breathe.”

“she waved.”

“she waved.”

mina stares at them blankly for a beat like they’ve both been possessed.

“she was waving at me,” she deadpans.

they both turn to her in sync. “huh?”

“that’s my friend group, dipshits.”

“nah, bro,” sero blinks, shakes his head, serious. “that wave was directed.”

“insanely directed,” denki agrees, nodding so hard his beanie slips.

“you’re both delusional,” mina says flatly.

denki’s already spiraling, fingers tugging at the hem of his hoodie. “she made eye contact.”

“she made eye contact with me,” mina sighs. “because i’m her friend.”

“she smiled,” sero adds, doubling down.

“she always smiles, you morons.”

“but it was like… extra smile,” denki’s whole face flushes a little, voice turning a bit dreamy. “she’s so cute.”

“you’re an actual cartoon character,” mina says.

sero grins wide, stretching his back out casually. “you’re just jealous.”

“jealous of what exactly?” she says uninterestedly as she taps her lockscreen to check the time.

“that she’s obessed with us.”

“crazy for us,” denki echoes, picking up his half eaten takeout.

“i hope you both trip on your way to class,” mina replies with an eyeroll, grabbing her bag and standing up.

“and it’d be worth it,” sero calls out after her, to which she does not turn around, only sends him a middle finger, with her back to both idiots.

denki shrugs, still dazed, “so worth it.”

taglist 😁😁😌 @beabamboo @datswi1d @bananapuddinglatte @i3beingcuntyyyy @mouse-my-dude @thisuserisaslutforgarlicbread @misairlfr @cattleqtie @h-sadsoul @ilikeraccoonsssss @ariiii-jpegg @luustdovr @ur-local-snowman @cam-leaf @lxdystxrdustt

[cxvii666]

my faves

💅mean girls✨

[cxvii666]

im currently revamping lol new chap up sooooon i pinky promise

“hoe cakes”

a college au feat. denki k. & hanta s.

“i got this girl and she wants me to duke her, i told her i'd come scoop her around eight, she said, super!”

wc: 2k

starting track...

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

....

“omg, oh my god!”

denki kaminari bursts into the library, zero tact, completely out of breath, face all flushed, chest heaving, and rushes over to where his friends are sat, nearly knocking over bakugou's laptop as he drops his backpack and practically leaps over the table, to try and talk to sero.

bakugou, who was sat minding his own fucking business, turns his head in absolute disbelief, about to swing on the guy, but pauses at denki's heavy breathing and frazzled state. kirishima's noise of concern is brushed off with a “gimme a second” as the blonde heaves for a minute, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"oh sero, bro," he gasps out finally, "i just saw the baddest girl ever, you gotta come quick."

any concerns over the blondes state quickly wash away.

bakugou rolls his eyes with a scoff, kirishima leans back into his chair with a sigh of relief, and hanta sero looks up from his laptop, disinterestedly. "dude, what? where?"

denki takes the seat opposite to his best friend, and points frantically from where he's just stumbled through the big oak doors of library.

“bro, bro, bro, bro,” the blonde starts as he runs a hand through his hair, the chair below him creaking under his movements.

he looks up at his friend, amber eyes gleaming, brows wiggling. “outside on the quad, there was a girl, with the hair, and the eyes.”

you see, sero, kiri, and bakugou had been in the library for at least three hours now and, god, hanta was bored.

like bored bored. like shitty-phone-service bored. like no-songs-in-his-playlist-are-worth-listening-to bored.

like so bored that he'd given up on waiting for denki to show face, and had actually started studying.

sero rolls his shoulder with a yawn and nods at denki to continue.

bakugou sends both of them a death glare before making a big show of agressively putting his headphones on.

hanta pulls a face at him then stretches out his back against the side chair. his joints ache in that way they do when you sit in the same position for a long time. he sits upright at the library table, his voice dropping to a mock whisper and he teases, "bro said 'hair and eyes'."

"just shut up for a sec," denki hisses back and slumps down on the table, partially ontop of one of hanta's textbooks, "wow, i really need to start hitting the gym, fuck, my chest hurts."

hanta rolls his eyes at his friends dramatics as he doodles in the margin of his textbook. denki takes his silence as a sign to continue.

"you gotta—just–listen—soooo, i'm walking outside by that big tree on the quad becuase it's super windy and i can't catch a light, like the wind is winding out there—and, oh, i can't even describe her, but yeah, there was one loud smell, and you know me, i had to follow it and BAM there she was with sat behind the bike shed with, what's his name?" he jabs a thumb at kiri, "his friend. y'know the guy with the hair- yeah- uh, they were smoking like—"

his increasing longwinded tale, that is increasingly arising in volume, in very quiet section of the library, is cut off by a very impolite bakugou clearing his throat, threat clear in his eyes.

it seems like hanta's brain is finally starting to switch on, as his eyes widen at the implication of his denki's words. "oh shit," he wiggles his eyebrows at his friend playfully, his voice still low, "is she still outside? i have to see this..."

"well fucking exactly!" denki 'whispers' back gesturing wildy with is arms, "that's what i've been trying to fucking say but your slow ass keeps asking me questions and—”

the blonde pauses. and suddenly snatches up hanta's notebook to cover his face as he ducks.

"and what?" sero repeats, his face scrunching in confusion.

"shut—the fuck up," the break in denki's voice is comical, "holy shit, don't make it obvious, she's behind—”

—sero's head whips to the side so fast, i swear there was an audible click. and sure enough, if he tilts his head, and squints to look, in the gaps in between the bookshelves, there you are.

"i said don't make it obvious, you fucking moron."

too late now.

he's staring at you unabashedly as you walk into their section behind two of your friends, easy smile gracing your features, as you all take a seat on one of the open tables across the library.

"oh shit," hanta gulps moving to look at denki, who has now leaned over the table to stare at you from over hanta's shoulder, "she does have hair and eyes."

"what did i just say fucking say, i swear, this guy—"

the blonde is too loud in his ear and hanta pushes his friend's head away with his palm, eyes still on your person. "have you spoken to her yet?"

"what part are you not getting?" and denki gets all up in his face and pushes his own fingers into hanta's forehead in retaliation, as he repeats, exasperated, "i saw her, and then, i came straight here, to find you!"

"what, oh..." the realisation dawns on him finally and a lazy smirk creeps onto his features, "bro, your superrr freaky, i'm in, hundred percent. do you think she'll be down?"

"you're both fucking idiots, you know that, right?"

bakugou who has seemingly been listening, eavesdropping, in on their conversation, scoffed at his friends.

"i thought you were studying, kacchan?"

kirishima had been sat next to hanta, and when the question in his eyes, that flit between the two grinning fools, goes unanswered by either, bakugou sighs deeply, and points, with violent intent for sure, his mechanical pencil in the direction of the other blonde, his voice gruff, “weren't you there? last friday night? when the fuck-squad was playing 'would you rather', talkin' bout—”

"about threesomes!" denki cuts in, grin manic, as hanta snickers opposite him, "ok kiri, lemme' ask you, because we've been debating for like two days, would you rather a threesome with another guy, or two girls? because i said another guy—”

“wait i am so lost, what—”

“fellas, is it gay to wanna be in a threeway with your homie?”

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

“bro, hear me out, but this might be fate.”

hanta's reply is muffled through a mouthful of pizza.

after not getting kicked out of the library, the two decided, denki decided and hanta had the evening off work, to go into town. initially, denki had sold hanta the idea of beer and ramen, but by the time they got to the high street, the smell of pizza seemed to be calling.

the pizza place was local, and extremely well known by their friend group, and the two had stumbled in, many a night, drunk, or faded, or both. and, directly opposite, happened to be, a record shop.

they'd been in there with jirou maybe once or twice, but it was one of those old buildings that always looked closed.

like right now. from out of the big glass window on the left side of their favourite booth, and they could see the shop front, the lights were out, windows all shut down.

and guess who was right outside of their fucking window, across the street, unlocking the front door.

“fate's not real, dickhead.” hanta burps out, finally having swallowed his slice. “that's just bullshit made up by artists and businessmen so they can con you.”

his shaggy hair flops into his face as his head tilts with the indecision of choosing the next slice of pizza.

“like all that, 'fate led you to my doorstep' mumbo-jumbo, about the moon and the tides and—”

and sero's sarcastic drivel gets interrupted by the sound of denki, and scoffs out loud, because of course, he's already grabbing his hoodie and fixing to stand up. like they reaally couldn't sit down and eat for five minutes. “where, the fuck, are you going?”

"what-the-fuck-do-you-mean? where am i going?" he mimics sero's tone. “a golden opportunity has just been handed to us,” and again, denki is waving his hands about like a maniac, gesturing vaguely upwards, like the universe or some other divine entity had blessed them and hanta was stupid for not getting it, “and you don't wanna jump on it?”

it's silent for a beat, only broken by hanta slurping noisily from his straw. he takes a moment to burp loudly and to glance forlornly at their hot pizza. he closes his eyes and sighs, already mourning the taste of the cheese on his tongue, before he resigns himself to whatever the fuckmess of a two man step denki is planning.

"jump on it?"

"jump on it."

"jum- y'know what, fine, lets go, and you can do all the talking."

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

“—i just can't believe you forgot your key again.”

the disc your holding nearly slips from your grasp as you move your phone from your ear and set it on the till counter. you click the speaker on and the sound of your coworker's rushed apologies flood the empty store.

“—i know right? it’s the second time this week! fuck, i’m so sorry—”

you silently shake your head at her panic and place the stray disc back onto the cd tower whilst trying to reassure her softly. it was no big deal, you were already in the area, no, it's not a problem, blah blah.

once the line drops, you figure you might as well start opening the store for the evening and start by switching the big speaker on and slowly turning up the volume. whatever album that was already queued starts playing as you start clearing the area around the cash register.

as you card through the cds on the display rack, mentally making note of what needs to be switched out, nodding your head to the beat of the music, the bell jingles softly and footsteps pattern inside.

you don't look up and instead go to grab some receipt paper and pen, "that was quick, you said fifteen minutes."

you continue scratching out mixtape names onto the paper and humming along to the music. before you freeze, when you hear what sounds like a chuckle, a distinctly male chuckle.

"i haven't said anything yet."

the blonde speaks and you don't have time to think before you're brandishing your pen in front of you defensively like its a small plastic sword.

denki yelps, dramatic, and hanta is about burst out laughing, but when he looks at you, at the crinkle in your eyes and the bounce of your hair, he swallows his laughter with a cough.

"d'you greet all your customers like this, or are we just special?"

his voice is smooth, and you lower the pen, but not your gaze, trying not feel to too embarrassed, and shoot back, "well i don't know, do you always creep up on people like that?"

hanta's face twitches into a smile, as you roll your eyes, check the time. you'll finish clearing up, your coworker will arrive, and she can tend to the weird, hot, undergrad guys nosing around the shop, as payment for making you come in.

except it seems denki has other plans, and has recovered from his initial shock, as he's sauntered right up to the cash desk and its fiddling about with the display items. hanta scoffs silently at his act and turns to card his fingers through the vinyls stacked neatly on the main table.

the blonde clears his throat, once, twice, "aren't you…”and then he squints his amber eyes in fake recognition, “don't we have a class together?”

you look up from where you'd been reordering some cd cases to take in his features. the gentle slope of delicate nose, his bright eyes, the poorly dyed streak in his hair, the half smirk half smile painting his pretty pink lips.

"hmmm, no, i don't think so."

"no, no, i swear, aren't you in our uh, english lit class, right dude."

hanta snorts and your eyes lock across the shop. his narrow in thought, then he taps his chin like he's remembering something.

"y'know what, she does look kinda familiar." identical smirks dressing both of their faces, "maybe we do have a class together."

your laugh may be short, sarcastic, but it's light and airy, a soft exhale. "did you guys come in here to buy something, or just to waste my time?"

"and no, we don't have any classes together," your gaze floats from denki, and the way his hair softly falls about his face, "'think i woulda noticed you," to hanta's eyes, warm and brown watching carefully, like something is so heavily amusing to him. "both of you."

neither of them make to move from where their feet are planted on the carpeted floor. and you smirk when you hear the jingle of the door bells for the second time.

hands flying into action, you grab the pen again and scribble another note and slap it onto the counter. your sleeve brushes against denki's, and before he can even feel the static shock of the friction, you're grabbing your phone and your bag, and making your way to the front of the store, and waving your coworker goodbye.

the store echoes with the jingle for the third time.

and resting on the counter, next to denki's arm is the paper you left.

with your number on it.

...end of playback

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

next track ▷ 93 'til infinity

[cxvii666]

a denki kaminari x reader x hanta sero college!au

HOE CAKES !?

“the soundtrack of stupid, stoner, skater, college guys”

TRACK LISTING:

hoe cakes

'93 till infinity

nokia

america's most blunted

summer’s over - interlude

[cxvii666]

“SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT?!”

feat. best friend? college au! denki k.

“who's hot, who's not?”

afab reader mdni

“would you stop moving, for like two seconds.”

“huh?”

“and please, no talking. i’m trying to concentrate here.”

“bro,” you start, a little puzzled, but largely amused, “concentrate on what?”

you glance down at the messy crown of blonde hair between your thighs, brow raised. “your head is literally in between my legs.”

your room smells, stinks, of weed smoke, with an undertone of that chemically artificial blue raspberry flavour of denki's burnt vape.

which is standard practice really.

because this is what you and denki do every sunday night, and friday afternoon, and wednesday morning and— uh, you get the idea.

it always starts with that, r u free rn, text, with five of the smirking cat emojis, and less than 30 minutes later, he's in your room, door closed, towel wedged in the crack, windows wide open.

one of your playlists is blasting from his speaker that's on the floor in the corner, it's a shitty little thing that he got for super cheap, and it rattles when the base is too high, but it does the job well enough. the room’s dim except for your sunset lamp casting a molten orange-pink glow across the walls.

a big bottle of water and a bag of chips on your desk.

like i said, all standard practice.

except: denki kaminari is about to eat you out.

you don't really know how it got to this point. there had been a hushed confession earlier, denki, half-slouched against your pillows, saying something about how he was 'lowkey nervous as fuck' because this super pretty girl that he'd met at some festival or something, had been 'making moves' on him, and how he was scared of 'fumbling the bag', or whatever nonsense he had spouted.

he’d said it like it was nothing, but there’d been that rare soft vulnerability in his voice — the kind that makes you want to tease him, but also the kind you can’t quite ignore.

his heart had stopped, genuinely, he had felt it skip a beat, when you had laid out the option of him practicing. on you.

denki swallows, hard, a deep gulp, followed by an even deeper inhale, as he looks down at your thighs splayed out before him.

he is so out of his depth. you can feel the sweat of his trembling palms when he reaches out to spread your legs wider.

you're bare, and your pussy is quivering. from being out in the open, from being exposed, naked, to his eyes.

he swallows again, like he's transfixed. he is, in a way. not just because he’s never seen a pussy in real life before, though, judging by the glassy awe in his eyes, is definitely part of it— but because it’s you.

it's you, and you're letting him do this, you are giving him permission to make you feel good, and the last thing denki wants is to leave you, of all people, unsatisfied.

your thigh twitches again, accidentally.

he slaps the inside of it in warning — not hard, but enough to make your eyes widen — and sends you a stern glare that, because it’s denki, only makes you giggle.

the tension snaps like a cheap wire. his glare collapses instantly into his standard pikachu face — wide-eyed, mouth open in mock horror.

“are you laughing at me?” he says, almost scandalized.

“kinda—” but when you see him debating internally whether to just give up from embarrassment, you backtrack. “waittt, no. i’m sorry. i was just joking.”

you feel the his relief in the way his grip loosens on your thigh.

“get off my back,” he whines, pinching you just hard enough to make you squirm. “i’ve never done this before.”

“and you think i have?”

“exactly!!! so just shut up and let me concentrate.”

“on what?!”

he licks his thumb — quick, almost nervous — before dragging it slowly across your slit.

“on finding the mythical g-spot.”

“the g-spot is inside, you dumbass.”

“what? no. sero said— i swear there’s, like, an outside button too—”

"you mean my clit?"

and you have to stop yourself from bursting into laughter at his look of bewilderment.

he blinks, processing, then nods like he’s pretending he knew that the whole time. “...yeah. obviously.”

“obviously,” you repeat, deadpan.

“shut up.” his voice cracks halfway through it, but he plays it off by leaning in closer.

his hands settle against your hips — not steady, not yet, more like he’s grounding himself. his fingers twitch as he takes another slow look at you, pupils blown wide in the dim pink light.

you feel the first flick of his tongue against your slit — tentative, testing — and it makes your breath hitch before you can stop it.

denki pulls back almost immediately, wide shit-eating grin on his face, “ohhh. ohhh, you liked that—”

“don’t get cocky—”

but he’s already leaning in again, a little faster this time. one hand drags up your thigh, thumb pressing into the soft flesh there like he’s staking a claim.

denki works in small, quick kitten licks at first, like he’s experimenting, switching pressure and angle every few seconds. it tickles at first, when you twitch in a way that isn’t accidental, he locks onto it like a heat-seeking missile.

“yeah?” he murmurs, his voice low and smug now. “right there?”

you roll your eyes, but your hand’s in his hair, fingers curling in blonde strands before you even realize it.

“mmmm, that’s a yes, right?” he whispers softly against you, between slow kisses to your clit, the vibration making you jolt.

the speaker rattles in the background from the bassline of some old r&b track, the air thick with smoke and that faint sugar-sour of his vape. he shifts lower, shoulders wedged between your knees, and you can feel his whole body heat pressing in.

your roll hips up into his face as his tongue gets bolder, movements more deliberate now that he knows he’s got you hooked. he alternates between broad, slow drags and tighter, quicker strokes right where you’re sensitive.

and denki — of course — starts talking.

“you taste so—fuck—” he breaks off, hurried breath, his body twitching against the mattress like his legs have been electrocuted, groaning like he’s the one being worked over. “how the fuck am i supposed to go back to kissing people after this?”

your hips jerk, a sound slipping out before you can swallow it back, and his grip on your thighs tightens instantly, holding you there.

“please,” he murmurs, voice so low you can barely hear it, just feel his breath warm against you, “please don’t run from me. i wanna make you feel good. i’m so close to—”

he shifts his grip, palms sliding up your thighs, thumbs hooking into the crease where hip meets leg like he’s holding on for dear life. every time your hips twitch, he drags you right back to his mouth, tongue working harder, messier.

and it is messy.

you can feel it — the wet drag of his tongue, the little gasp he lets out every time he comes up for air, the way his chin is slick, glistening in the low light. he’s not trying to keep himself clean; he’s chasing it, like he wants you everywhere on him.

you feel the rumble of his voice between your legs, and it’s almost too much. your fingers tighten in his hair, and he moans — actually moans — like that alone is going to finish him.

he pulls back for half a second, lips shiny, pupils blown so wide there’s barely any gold left. “you’re—” he pants, licking his lips, “—gonna come for me, right? you have to—”

and then he’s right back on you, sucking hard, swirling his tongue just right, like he’s memorized the exact combination to undo you.

your breath stutters, thighs tensing, and he feels it.

his own hips shift against the bed, subtle at first — then not subtle at all.

his face buried between your legs, hair a mess from your hands, making these low, needy noises every time you grind against him — and grinding himself, shameless, against the mattress like he can’t help it.

he’s so far gone he doesn’t even look up when you gasp his name.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—” it’s coming out of both of you now. you feel that coil snap, your whole body jerking, and he groans into you like he’s tasting it happen.

his hips jerk hard, stuttering against the sheets, and there’s this shaky, muffled sound from him — a cross between a moan and a whimper — and you know.

when you finally catch your breath enough to look down, he’s still there, kissing lazy, open-mouthed against your thigh like he’s not ready to let go yet.

his face is wrecked. hair wild, cheeks flushed, mouth swollen, chin and jaw glistening. and below? the dark, obvious patch on your sheets where he’s made his own mess.

he looks up at you, grinning crooked, breathless.

and as he wipes your slick from his mouth with the back of his hand, he snickers.

“…told ya i needed to concentrate.”

@twoplayergaymers @lxdystxrdustt @luustdovr @cam-leaf @ur-local-snowman @cccupidityy

OMG OMG HI GUYS HIIIII ik i've been away 😣😣😣 so this is a piece offering don't kill me😛😛 im currently on my aunts balcony in montréal. smoking a fat doobie and idk i missed writing so yh take this for now and ill put the general taglist here so that you guys can add urselves and so u wont miss any of the new shit 😉😉😉😉 i have in da workls 😝❤️ i am busy revamping old shit tho so bare that in mind BUT YH LOVR YAL

[cxvii666]

Denki has such slim but long and quick fingers that it almost makes up for the fact that he's not that good at giving head. He likes giving it more than anything...but he likes it too much. He'll ask to eat you out just so he can hump the bed and whine into your poor, needy pussy. It's so rude!

But then he's sliding is fingers in and curling them till they hit that gummy spot that makes you see stars and you completely forget about the lips wrapped around your clit. Your back is arching and your hands are gripping his hair as you whine. You can feel him smile against your clit, because he knows that he only gives you head for his pleasure, but his hands? Those are all for you.

[cxvii666]

i'm gonna hold your bush when i say this but you're not a deadbeat mutual.

you're allowed to just exist in this online space that we're sharing and seek a little escape from life when it gets overwhelming. you're not obligated to constantly check in with your mutuals or send dms & asks or react to every thought or read every fic or pour out any contribution to fandom in fear of being forgotten otherwise.

you exist and that's enough, ok? you will be remembered, always, and you're not missing out. someone will be happy when they see your name pop up in a notif after a while and someone will bring up your name fondly in a conversation. the bonds you formed will not just disappear just because you need to take a breather from life. you're allowed to just be.

[cxvii666]

TEN'S TAGLIST 🦕

interact with this post in anyway to be added to my taglist I LOVE U CUTIES 😚😚😚

[cxvii666]

“SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT?!”

feat. best friend? college au! denki k.

“who's hot, who's not?”

afab reader mdni

“would you stop moving, for like two seconds.”

“huh?”

“and please, no talking. i’m trying to concentrate here.”

“bro,” you start, a little puzzled, but largely amused, “concentrate on what?”

you glance down at the messy crown of blonde hair between your thighs, brow raised. “your head is literally in between my legs.”

your room smells, stinks, of weed smoke, with an undertone of that chemically artificial blue raspberry flavour of denki's burnt vape.

which is standard practice really.

because this is what you and denki do every sunday night, and friday afternoon, and wednesday morning and— uh, you get the idea.

it always starts with that, r u free rn, text, with five of the smirking cat emojis, and less than 30 minutes later, he's in your room, door closed, towel wedged in the crack, windows wide open.

one of your playlists is blasting from his speaker that's on the floor in the corner, it's a shitty little thing that he got for super cheap, and it rattles when the base is too high, but it does the job well enough. the room’s dim except for your sunset lamp casting a molten orange-pink glow across the walls.

a big bottle of water and a bag of chips on your desk.

like i said, all standard practice.

except: denki kaminari is about to eat you out.

you don't really know how it got to this point. there had been a hushed confession earlier, denki, half-slouched against your pillows, saying something about how he was 'lowkey nervous as fuck' because this super pretty girl that he'd met at some festival or something, had been 'making moves' on him, and how he was scared of 'fumbling the bag', or whatever nonsense he had spouted.

he’d said it like it was nothing, but there’d been that rare soft vulnerability in his voice — the kind that makes you want to tease him, but also the kind you can’t quite ignore.

his heart had stopped, genuinely, he had felt it skip a beat, when you had laid out the option of him practicing. on you.

denki swallows, hard, a deep gulp, followed by an even deeper inhale, as he looks down at your thighs splayed out before him.

he is so out of his depth. you can feel the sweat of his trembling palms when he reaches out to spread your legs wider.

you're bare, and your pussy is quivering. from being out in the open, from being exposed, naked, to his eyes.

he swallows again, like he's transfixed. he is, in a way. not just because he’s never seen a pussy in real life before, though, judging by the glassy awe in his eyes, is definitely part of it— but because it’s you.

it's you, and you're letting him do this, you are giving him permission to make you feel good, and the last thing denki wants is to leave you, of all people, unsatisfied.

your thigh twitches again, accidentally.

he slaps the inside of it in warning — not hard, but enough to make your eyes widen — and sends you a stern glare that, because it’s denki, only makes you giggle.

the tension snaps like a cheap wire. his glare collapses instantly into his standard pikachu face — wide-eyed, mouth open in mock horror.

“are you laughing at me?” he says, almost scandalized.

“kinda—” but when you see him debating internally whether to just give up from embarrassment, you backtrack. “waittt, no. i’m sorry. i was just joking.”

you feel the his relief in the way his grip loosens on your thigh.

“get off my back,” he whines, pinching you just hard enough to make you squirm. “i’ve never done this before.”

“and you think i have?”

“exactly!!! so just shut up and let me concentrate.”

“on what?!”

he licks his thumb — quick, almost nervous — before dragging it slowly across your slit.

“on finding the mythical g-spot.”

“the g-spot is inside, you dumbass.”

“what? no. sero said— i swear there’s, like, an outside button too—”

"you mean my clit?"

and you have to stop yourself from bursting into laughter at his look of bewilderment.

he blinks, processing, then nods like he’s pretending he knew that the whole time. “...yeah. obviously.”

“obviously,” you repeat, deadpan.

“shut up.” his voice cracks halfway through it, but he plays it off by leaning in closer.

his hands settle against your hips — not steady, not yet, more like he’s grounding himself. his fingers twitch as he takes another slow look at you, pupils blown wide in the dim pink light.

you feel the first flick of his tongue against your slit — tentative, testing — and it makes your breath hitch before you can stop it.

denki pulls back almost immediately, wide shit-eating grin on his face, “ohhh. ohhh, you liked that—”

“don’t get cocky—”

but he’s already leaning in again, a little faster this time. one hand drags up your thigh, thumb pressing into the soft flesh there like he’s staking a claim.

denki works in small, quick kitten licks at first, like he’s experimenting, switching pressure and angle every few seconds. it tickles at first, when you twitch in a way that isn’t accidental, he locks onto it like a heat-seeking missile.

“yeah?” he murmurs, his voice low and smug now. “right there?”

you roll your eyes, but your hand’s in his hair, fingers curling in blonde strands before you even realize it.

“mmmm, that’s a yes, right?” he whispers softly against you, between slow kisses to your clit, the vibration making you jolt.

the speaker rattles in the background from the bassline of some old r&b track, the air thick with smoke and that faint sugar-sour of his vape. he shifts lower, shoulders wedged between your knees, and you can feel his whole body heat pressing in.

your roll hips up into his face as his tongue gets bolder, movements more deliberate now that he knows he’s got you hooked. he alternates between broad, slow drags and tighter, quicker strokes right where you’re sensitive.

and denki — of course — starts talking.

“you taste so—fuck—” he breaks off, hurried breath, his body twitching against the mattress like his legs have been electrocuted, groaning like he’s the one being worked over. “how the fuck am i supposed to go back to kissing people after this?”

your hips jerk, a sound slipping out before you can swallow it back, and his grip on your thighs tightens instantly, holding you there.

“please,” he murmurs, voice so low you can barely hear it, just feel his breath warm against you, “please don’t run from me. i wanna make you feel good. i’m so close to—”

he shifts his grip, palms sliding up your thighs, thumbs hooking into the crease where hip meets leg like he’s holding on for dear life. every time your hips twitch, he drags you right back to his mouth, tongue working harder, messier.

and it is messy.

you can feel it — the wet drag of his tongue, the little gasp he lets out every time he comes up for air, the way his chin is slick, glistening in the low light. he’s not trying to keep himself clean; he’s chasing it, like he wants you everywhere on him.

you feel the rumble of his voice between your legs, and it’s almost too much. your fingers tighten in his hair, and he moans — actually moans — like that alone is going to finish him.

he pulls back for half a second, lips shiny, pupils blown so wide there’s barely any gold left. “you’re—” he pants, licking his lips, “—gonna come for me, right? you have to—”

and then he’s right back on you, sucking hard, swirling his tongue just right, like he’s memorized the exact combination to undo you.

your breath stutters, thighs tensing, and he feels it.

his own hips shift against the bed, subtle at first — then not subtle at all.

his face buried between your legs, hair a mess from your hands, making these low, needy noises every time you grind against him — and grinding himself, shameless, against the mattress like he can’t help it.

he’s so far gone he doesn’t even look up when you gasp his name.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—” it’s coming out of both of you now. you feel that coil snap, your whole body jerking, and he groans into you like he’s tasting it happen.

his hips jerk hard, stuttering against the sheets, and there’s this shaky, muffled sound from him — a cross between a moan and a whimper — and you know.

when you finally catch your breath enough to look down, he’s still there, kissing lazy, open-mouthed against your thigh like he’s not ready to let go yet.

his face is wrecked. hair wild, cheeks flushed, mouth swollen, chin and jaw glistening. and below? the dark, obvious patch on your sheets where he’s made his own mess.

he looks up at you, grinning crooked, breathless.

and as he wipes your slick from his mouth with the back of his hand, he snickers.

“…told ya i needed to concentrate.”

@twoplayergaymers @lxdystxrdustt @luustdovr @cam-leaf @ur-local-snowman @cccupidityy

OMG OMG HI GUYS HIIIII ik i've been away 😣😣😣 so this is a piece offering don't kill me😛😛 im currently on my aunts balcony in montréal. smoking a fat doobie and idk i missed writing so yh take this for now and ill put the general taglist here so that you guys can add urselves and so u wont miss any of the new shit 😉😉😉😉 i have in da workls 😝❤️ i am busy revamping old shit tho so bare that in mind BUT YH LOVR YAL

[cxvii666]

“SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT?!”

feat. best friend? college au! denki k.

“who's hot, who's not?”

afab reader mdni

cw: first time oral, pussy drunk denki, recreational drug use

“would you stop moving, for like two seconds.”

“huh?”

“and please, no talking. i’m trying to concentrate here.”

“bro,” you start, a little puzzled, but largely amused, “concentrate on what?”

you glance down at the messy crown of blonde hair between your thighs, brow raised. “your head is literally in between my legs.”

your room smells, stinks, of weed smoke, with an undertone of that chemically artificial blue raspberry flavour of denki's burnt vape.

which is standard practice really.

because this is what you and denki do every sunday night, and friday afternoon, and wednesday morning and— uh, you get the idea.

it always starts with that, r u free rn, text, with five of the smirking cat emojis, and less than 30 minutes later, he's in your room, door closed, towel wedged in the crack, windows wide open.

one of your playlists is blasting from his speaker that's on the floor in the corner, it's a shitty little thing that he got for super cheap, and it rattles when the base is too high, but it does the job well enough. the room’s dim except for your sunset lamp casting a molten orange-pink glow across the walls.

a big bottle of water and a bag of chips on your desk.

like i said, all standard practice.

except: denki kaminari is about to eat you out.

you don't really know how it got to this point. there had been a hushed confession earlier, denki, half-slouched against your pillows, saying something about how he was 'lowkey nervous as fuck' because this super pretty girl that he'd met at some festival or something, had been 'making moves' on him, and how he was scared of 'fumbling the bag', or whatever nonsense he had spouted.

he’d said it like it was nothing, but there’d been that rare soft vulnerability in his voice — the kind that makes you want to tease him, but also the kind you can’t quite ignore.

his heart had stopped, genuinely, he had felt it skip a beat, when you had laid out the option of him practicing. on you.

denki swallows, hard, a deep gulp, followed by an even deeper inhale, as he looks down at your thighs splayed out before him.

he is so out of his depth. you can feel the sweat of his trembling palms when he reaches out to spread your legs wider.

you're bare, and your pussy is quivering. from being out in the open, from being exposed, naked, to his eyes.

he swallows again, like he's transfixed. he is, in a way. not just because he’s never seen a pussy in real life before, though, judging by the glassy awe in his eyes, is definitely part of it— but because it’s you.

it's you, and you're letting him do this, you are giving him permission to make you feel good, and the last thing denki wants is to leave you, of all people, unsatisfied.

your thigh twitches again, accidentally.

he slaps the inside of it in warning — not hard, but enough to make your eyes widen — and sends you a stern glare that, because it’s denki, only makes you giggle.

the tension snaps like a cheap wire. his glare collapses instantly into his standard pikachu face — wide-eyed, mouth open in mock horror.

“are you laughing at me?” he says, almost scandalized.

“kinda—” but when you see him debating internally whether to just give up from embarrassment, you backtrack. “waittt, no. i’m sorry. i was just joking.”

you feel the his relief in the way his grip loosens on your thigh.

“get off my back,” he whines, pinching you just hard enough to make you squirm. “i’ve never done this before.”

“and you think i have?”

“exactly!!! so just shut up and let me concentrate.”

“on what?!”

he licks his thumb — quick, almost nervous — before dragging it slowly across your slit.

“on finding the mythical g-spot.”

“the g-spot is inside, you dumbass.”

“what? no. sero said— i swear there’s, like, an outside button too—”

"you mean my clit?"

and you have to stop yourself from bursting into laughter at his look of bewilderment.

he blinks, processing, then nods like he’s pretending he knew that the whole time. “...yeah. obviously.”

“obviously,” you repeat, deadpan.

“shut up.” his voice cracks halfway through it, but he plays it off by leaning in closer.

his hands settle against your hips — not steady, not yet, more like he’s grounding himself. his fingers twitch as he takes another slow look at you, pupils blown wide in the dim pink light.

you feel the first flick of his tongue against your slit — tentative, testing — and it makes your breath hitch before you can stop it.

denki pulls back almost immediately, wide shit-eating grin on his face, “ohhh. ohhh, you liked that—”

“don’t get cocky—”

but he’s already leaning in again, a little faster this time. one hand drags up your thigh, thumb pressing into the soft flesh there like he’s staking a claim.

denki works in small, quick kitten licks at first, like he’s experimenting, switching pressure and angle every few seconds. it tickles at first, when you twitch in a way that isn’t accidental, he locks onto it like a heat-seeking missile.

“yeah?” he murmurs, his voice low and smug now. “right there?”

you roll your eyes, but your hand’s in his hair, fingers curling in blonde strands before you even realize it.

“mmmm, that’s a yes, right?” he whispers softly against you, between slow kisses to your clit, the vibration making you jolt.

the speaker rattles in the background from the bassline of some old r&b track, the air thick with smoke and that faint sugar-sour of his vape. he shifts lower, shoulders wedged between your knees, and you can feel his whole body heat pressing in.

your roll hips up into his face as his tongue gets bolder, movements more deliberate now that he knows he’s got you hooked. he alternates between broad, slow drags and tighter, quicker strokes right where you’re sensitive.

and denki — of course — starts talking.

“you taste so—fuck—” he breaks off, hurried breath, his body twitching against the mattress like his legs have been electrocuted, groaning like he’s the one being worked over. “how the fuck am i supposed to go back to kissing people after this?”

your hips jerk, a sound slipping out before you can swallow it back, and his grip on your thighs tightens instantly, holding you there.

“please,” he murmurs, voice so low you can barely hear it, just feel his breath warm against you, “please don’t run from me. i wanna make you feel good. i’m so close to—”

he shifts his grip, palms sliding up your thighs, thumbs hooking into the crease where hip meets leg like he’s holding on for dear life. every time your hips twitch, he drags you right back to his mouth, tongue working harder, messier.

and it is messy.

you can feel it — the wet drag of his tongue, the little gasp he lets out every time he comes up for air, the way his chin is slick, glistening in the low light. he’s not trying to keep himself clean; he’s chasing it, like he wants you everywhere on him.

you feel the rumble of his voice between your legs, and it’s almost too much. your fingers tighten in his hair, and he moans — actually moans — like that alone is going to finish him.

he pulls back for half a second, lips shiny, pupils blown so wide there’s barely any gold left. “you’re—” he pants, licking his lips, “—gonna come for me, right? you have to—”

and then he’s right back on you, sucking hard, swirling his tongue just right, like he’s memorized the exact combination to undo you.

your breath stutters, thighs tensing, and he feels it.

his own hips shift against the bed, subtle at first — then not subtle at all.

his face buried between your legs, hair a mess from your hands, making these low, needy noises every time you grind against him — and grinding himself, shameless, against the mattress like he can’t help it.

he’s so far gone he doesn’t even look up when you gasp his name.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—” it’s coming out of both of you now. you feel that coil snap, your whole body jerking, and he groans into you like he’s tasting it happen.

his hips jerk hard, stuttering against the sheets, and there’s this shaky, muffled sound from him — a cross between a moan and a whimper — and you know.

when you finally catch your breath enough to look down, he’s still there, kissing lazy, open-mouthed against your thigh like he’s not ready to let go yet.

his face is wrecked. hair wild, cheeks flushed, mouth swollen, chin and jaw glistening. and below? the dark, obvious patch on your sheets where he’s made his own mess.

he looks up at you, grinning crooked, breathless.

and as he wipes your slick from his mouth with the back of his hand, he snickers.

“…told ya i needed to concentrate.”

@twoplayergaymers @lxdystxrdustt @luustdovr @cam-leaf @ur-local-snowman @cccupidityy

OMG OMG HI GUYS HIIIII ik i've been away 😣😣😣 so this is a piece offering don't kill me😛😛 im currently on my aunts balcony in montréal. smoking a fat doobie and idk i missed writing so yh take this for now and ill put the general taglist here so that you guys can add urselves and so u wont miss any of the new shit 😉😉😉😉 i have in da workls 😝❤️ i am busy revamping old shit tho so bare that in mind BUT YH LOVR YAL

[cxvii666]

TEN'S TAGLIST 🦕

interact with this post in anyway to be added to my taglist I LOVE U CUTIES 😚😚😚

[cxvii666]

guys uh i hate to tell u this but despite referring to myself as a pretty bitch I AM agender and i am NOT a girl lol i don't mind how ppl refer to me irl and online bcos i am fem presenting and i do write a lot of black fem!readers but yeah i just thought u guys should know 😁

[cxvii666]

is this fucking play about us

sero girls are on another level

[cxvii666]

yes please thank youuuuuuu

Hey, I Miss You…

| cw: 18+ mdni, aged up characters, sub! denki kaminari, dom! gn (afab) reader, needy behavior, gentle dom, oral (f receiving, praise, d/s relations, nsfw

| a/n: hi everyone…hehe its been a minute :/ but I’m here !! I was supposed to post this months ago, so apologies for that, but I’ve locked in and my notion is filled with fics for days! anyways, enjoy this. I realized I don’t have many fics for other characters besides the ones I wrote during ficmas. anyways come back and check the masterlist soon!

| wc: 1.7k

═══════════════════════════════

You weren’t ignoring him on purpose. You were just busy. Really busy. Like finals week, five-lectures-behind, two-studies-away-from-snapping busy.

Unfortunately, Denki doesn’t believe in academic emergencies.

Especially not when he’s the one going through withdrawal.

Three days—three painfully long days—of you glued to your textbooks and barely sparing him a glance. No good morning kisses. No cuddles between classes. Barely a text. You were in study mode, and nothing could pull you out of it.

…Until now.

“Baaaabe…”

You blink. The word is whined so dramatically, you’re sure he must’ve stubbed a toe or something. But when you look up, you find Denki standing in the doorway of your room with that telltale pout on his lips and his hoodie sleeves tugged over his hands.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says, already halfway to your desk, dragging his socked feet like it physically hurts to move without being attached to your side. “You haven’t touched me in three days. That’s seventy-two hours. That’slike… four thousand minutes, babe.”

“More like forty-three hundred,” you mutter, eyes flicking back to your notebook.

“Don’t do math on me right now,” he groans. “You’re literally gonna turn into a calculator. Please, just touch me. Look at me. Something. I’m losing my mind.”

You hum distractedly, trying to reread the same sentence for the fifth time, but it’s hard when Denki suddenly drops to his knees beside your chair.

“Denki.”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t need to be on the floor.”

“Yes, I do. You’re up there ignoring me like a cruel, heartless woman who forgot her loyal, loving boyfriend exists,” he says, theatrically flopping his head onto your thigh. “This is where I belong now. Cold. Alone. Undesired.”

“You’re not undesired,” you sigh, brushing your fingers through his hair automatically. “I just need to focus, sweetheart. This exam’s worth half my grade.”

His voice drops to a soft murmur. “You studied for six hours today already. And you studied for eight yesterday. I counted.”

“You counted?”

“I timed it,” he says proudly. “Even asked Sero to keep track in case I fell asleep.”

You blink down at him.

“I haven’t gotten a kiss. Or a cuddle. Or even one of those tiny little 'good boy’s you give me when I bring you water. You used to care when I brought you water,” he adds with a sniff.

Your hand stills in his hair. “Are you seriously pouting over not getting praise for fetching me water bottles?”

“Yes.”

He nuzzles your thigh like a cat, eyes half-lidded and sleepy. “Because I like being your good boy. And I haven’t gotten to be your anything lately.”

God, he really is pitiful.

Sweet, clingy, needy Denki—your favorite kind. And when you don’t respond fast enough, he turns those golden eyes up toward you and whispers, “Y’know… Sero told me about this thing…”

Your stomach tightens. “What kind of thing?” You know that every time he talks to Sero, he comes back home with some new hack to use on you.

He smiles like he’s pleased with himself. “I told him I hadn’t gotten you to take a break, and he said maybe you just needed the right kind of study break.”

You narrow your eyes. “Go on.”

“He said there’s this thing I could do. Something fun. Something that would make you feel really good,” he says, fingers trailing slowly up the inside of your leg, stopping right above your knee. “Y’know… to help you relax.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Did Sero tell you to go down on me?”

“I mean, he didn’t say it in those exact words…”

“Denki.”

He grins, all wide-eyed and golden. “But I’m not saying it just to distract you! I wanna make you feel good. You’ve been so stressed, baby. So tense. You haven’t even smiled today.”

You stay quiet, letting your fingers resume their gentle scratching through his scalp.

“And you know I’m good with my mouth,” he adds, voice lower now. “You told me I was your favorite when I was using it for something good, remember? You said I was your best boy.”

You click your pen closed and lean back in your chair, watching as his smile spreads into something smug.

“You’re gonna guilt me into taking a break with that pretty mouth of yours, huh?”

He brightens instantly. “Is it working?”

“Depends. Are you going to beg again? Or was that it?”

Denki immediately straightens his spine and looks up at you with soft, starry eyes. “Please let me taste you, baby. Please. I’ll be so good. I’ll make you feel so good. I’ve been waiting so long, and I just want to make you happy again.”

You hum, tilting your head. “And this is purely selfless, of course.”

“Totally. One hundred percent. Just you, me, and a little bit of tongue therapy,” he grins, winking.

“Tongue therapy?”

He shrugs. “It’s a real thing. Sero says it works every time.”

You snort, finally standing up from your chair and tugging him with you by the collar of his hoodie.

“I’m giving you fifteen minutes to prove it,” you murmur, dragging him toward the bed.

You’re barely settled back against the pillows before he’s dragging your shorts off with a reverence that makes your stomach flip. There’s a grin on his face, but his hands are shaking slightly from need. It’s been days, and it’s like he’s starving for you.

He moans the second your thighs open for him, palms sliding over your skin like he’s touching something holy. You’renot even undressed all the way, and he already looks blissed out.

“Fuck… missed this… missed you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, then another, then another.

You arch a brow, fingers threading through his hair. “You’ve got fourteen minutes now.”

He gasps, “Wait, that counted?”

You tug his head closer. “Clock’s ticking.”

And with that, Denki dives in — no more teasing, no hesitation. His mouth finds your heat with practiced desperation. Tongue sliding between your folds like he was made for this. The first flick is a little eager, a little clumsy, but then he finds your rhythm, licking you with long, slow strokes that send heat coiling up your spine.

“God, baby,” you murmur, watching his lashes flutter. “You’re this needy for it?”

He whines against your cunt, nodding without stopping, his hands gripping your thighs tighter like you’ll disappear if he lets go.

You guide his pace with the hand in his hair, letting your hips roll slightly with each suck, each swirl of his tongue. He’ssloppier than usual, too far gone to be cocky about it—now he’s worshipping you, like your pleasure is the only thing that matters. Like he’s being fed through your moans alone.

“That’s it,” you breathe. “My pretty little thing. You’re such a good boy when you’re quiet and focused.”

He groans like praise is better than oxygen.

It spurs him on, tongue flicking faster against your clit now, lips tightening around it, sucking just right. You let out a shaky breath and close your eyes for a second — just long enough to feel him moan again, harder, like he knows you’reclose.

You glance down, and that needy golden gaze is on you again, eyes wet and wide as he fucks you with his mouth. Every time you sigh, every time you twitch, every little noise you make — it fuels him.

He pulls back just for a moment, panting, his chin slick and eyes dazed. “Am I doing good?” he whispers, voice hoarse.

“Does this look like failure to you?”

You spread your legs wider and drag him back in.

He moans like he’ll die there, happy.

You keep him there through your first orgasm — and somehow your second.

By the time your thighs are shaking and his name is falling from your lips like a chant, Denki is glassy-eyed and high on the taste of you.

"Okay, baby. Come up here.”

He shifts up the bed, crawling toward you with flushed cheeks and kiss-bruised lips, you realize he looks so soft like this.

He flops beside you with a deep exhale, arms already snaking around your waist. His face presses into your chest like instinct, like he’s been waiting all week to be back there.

"Was I good?” he mumbles, words muffled against your skin.

You smile, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “So good, Denki. You were perfect for me.”

He lets out a soft, sleepy whine. “Mmm… I missed this so much. Missed you so much…”

“I was literally in the same apartment,” you tease gently, running your fingers over his back in long, soothing strokes.

“But not like this,” he huffs. “Not where I could touch you. Not where I could do that.”

You giggle, just a little breathless. “Poor baby. Suffering all alone while I studied.”

“You’re evil,” he mutters, snuggling impossibly closer. “Evil and mean and so hot.”

You let him cling, let him press his whole weight into you as his breathing evens out. He’s still a little buzzy, still overwhelmed even though you didn’t touch him yourself.

So you stay quiet.

You stroke his back. You kiss his temple. You trace light circles on his spine.

Eventually, he speaks again, voice quieter now.

“Thanks for letting me help… even if it was mostly for me.”

You cup his cheek and tilt his face up. He looks soft, pliant, loved.

“It wasn’t just for you,” you say honestly. “You make me feel grounded. And really, really good.”

That earns you a lazy grin — and then another kiss to your collarbone.

He yawns.

“I’m gonna sleep right here. You smell nice.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

You roll your eyes, smiling as he practically melts over you like a blanket. You’re still tangled together when you feel him shift slightly, voice barely above a whisper.

“Will you wake me up with kisses tomorrow?”

You glance down, brushing a strand of blond hair from his forehead.

“Only if you promise to make breakfast while I’m still in bed.”

He groans. “You drive a hard bargain.”

But he’s smiling again.

[cxvii666]

and i'll be waiting 😁😁😁😁

Eat her pussy like her ex is watching

[cxvii666]

Would you ever write for a masc/male reader? I absolutely ADORE your works but it's hard for me to feel into it as I'm a transman 💔

omgggg bro first of all ive seen you re blogging my shit for ages and i wanna say i appreciate you so badly 😫😫😫😫 second of all i haveeeed been thinking about this i have some stuff for sero and bakugou x male reader in my drafts ill get to work on em sooooooon 😁😁😁