Hi, Can You Please Write For Aomine Something Like His Gf Isn't The Out-going Type Of Gal And He Always

HELLO THERE LOVE. Can i request a headcanon of Kise, Midorima, Kagami, Himuro, and Miyahi Kiyoshi reacting to their fem s/o getting injured in a basketball match like kirisaki daichi style? And what would they do to comfort or take care their s/o? Btw i love your blog so much mwuah please stay healthy. ♡

you get kirisaki daichi-injured

a/n: eeeee tysm anon! eat well and have a happy day <3

warnings: reader injuries, basketball player!reader

ft. kise ryouta, midorima shintaro, kagami taiga, himuro tatsuya, kiyoshi teppei

KISE literally was about to run into the court, but kasamatsu had to hold him back as the coach, referee, and other important staff came to circle around you. the person you were versing had elbowed you in the ribs when you caught the rebound ball, and unfortunately cracked them. luckily, the referee had spotten that foul, and kirisaki daichi were banned from competitive play for at least couple years— which kise thought, should be way more. he finally was able to catch you when you were walking towards the benches, and helped you to escort out of the building. outside, he sat you on the bench and allowed you to lean on him. “does it hurt?” he asked softly, careful not to move you around too much. you nodded, “the physician said i can’t play for the rest of the season. why? why do they fucking play like that?” your tears began to fall and he repeatedly kissed your forehead, knowing how much it hurts to stop playing mid-game and feeling useless about it. “you got it next year, y/n-cchi..” he muttered, “i swear, when it’s our turn to verse them, i will beat the living hell out of them. can i sleep over tonight?”

MIDORIMA has never shown so much expression. the minute he saw a basketball thrown to your face, which knocked you down. rage filled his expression and his fists were clenched (gosh, even takao was scared), but he knew better than to interfere with your treatment as the medical team circled around you. when the next game started, he rushed to the infirmary to you, taking your hand to kiss the knuckles. “shintaro, i’m fine.” you smiled, honestly kind of happy about his concern. he eyed your eyepatch, the sides all red and swollen, and frowned. “that’s so fucked up,” he muttered, “i hope they get their karma for that. disqualification is not enough.” you chuckled a bit and sighed, “i can’t play for the rest of this season. this bruise is pretty bad.” midorima frowned again, “i’ll be with you through everything, so don’t struggle alone.” after that, midorima made sure not to let you move so much. and he swore he will get back at kirisaki daichi when it was time for his playoffs.

KAGAMI was literally too stunned to speak. he knew what kirisaki daichi was like, but he never, ever, expected it to happen to you. so when he saw you get squished between two players when you were going for the rebound, he froze, and watched all the people go to circle you. “kagami-kun, you should check up on y/n-san.” kuroko said, nudging him a bit. and suddenly it hit him, and he ran onto the court, pushing the people crowding over you, immediately taking you in his arms. the medical team was hesitant, but he insisted he hold you. “fucking hell, let’s get you to the benches.” he gave the other team the iciest, deadliest glare before carefully guiding you to sit down. when you sat, he made sure your sight was blocked from the other team, not sparing them a glance of your situation. “where does it hurt?” “on a scale of one to ten, how much does it hurt?” he keeps asking all these probing questions until you kiss him to shut him up. “taiga, i’ll be fine.” you chuckled, “i hope they get fucking disqualified though.” kagami took a first aid kit from his bag (something he keeps on him at all times) and bandaged you up. “we’re gonna fucking get them back.” he uttered, “in the mean time, you’re staying with me.” 

HIMURO was furious. he was the one who called the timeout even though he wasn’t in the position to╴but he didn’t care. he saw, with his two own eyes, a player purposely trip you, then later trample on you to “get to the other side of the court.” “they better get fucking disqualified,” himuro expressed to the coach. with the help of murasakibara, they both brought you to the infirmary, only letting the nurse and teammates see you. when players from kirisaki daichi tried to peek, he slammed the door, yelling at them to go away or go to hell. eventually everyone left and it was just you two. “hey, i’m here.” he whispered to you, stroking your head. “does it hurt? can you move?” you smiled at him and shook your head, “i think i can’t play for a bit.” his heart shattered and gripped your hand, kissing your forehead. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you.”

KIYOSHI warned you. he told you multiple stories about the times he got personally injured, and how it’s brutal, cruel, and every bad word in the dictionary. he even tried to convince you to skip this match for the sake of keeping you safe, but you insisted that the team needed you, and if something happened, you’ll be okay either way; you couldn’t win if you didn’t try. but the minute the other player pushed you down with the ball when they blocked you, making you crash onto the ground, kiyoshi’s eyes widened and he sprinted onto the court. he did not give a damn about what the referee was yelling about— something along with “you shouldn’t be here,” or “go back, go back!” along with the rest of your teammates and coach, they circled around you, but the only person in your line of vision was kiyoshi. “your nose.. it’s bleeding sweetheart. can someone get me some gauze and tissues?” your teammate quickly obliged, and kiyoshi tried to treat you with so much care, but it hurt too much. “sorry love, i know it hurts.” you shook your head, “thank you so much, teppei.” when you looked in the direction of kirisaki daichi, all of them were smirking and giggling, and the person who caused your injury gave an evil grin at you, sticking their tongue out. you gulped, and when kiyoshi saw what you were staring at, he scowled. “no wonder you guys never go to finals╴you don’t even know how to play.” with that, he guided you to the infirmary, where he whispered sweet nothings as he treated you and you rested. 

*＊✿❀reblogs and likes are appreciated❀✿＊*

How the big three (three musketeers??) would try and convince you to quit your shitty job

one 'cute little housewife' from billy but reader is otherwise gn, some mysoginy from billy as a treat if you squint but not much also what do you expect lol

You know that friend that when you bring up your boyfriend they're like "dump him"?? That's Stevie. You breathe one word about your day at work being subpar and he's like "oh my god that sucks they shouldn't treat you like that, you should quit" when you protest he DOUBLES DOWN. "C'mon, you should quit. You don't need to work there, I'll buy you whatever you want. Bank of Harrington, the only interest is kisses." He loves spoiling you, you know he does, and he watches you seriously considering it. He'll offer to take you shopping right now to tip the scales, hyping you up and picking out the cutest stuff that perfectly fits your taste. "You could wear this next monday, we can go to the movies, keep me company while I drive the kids around..." You tell him you have work next monday and he gives you one of those looks "You don't have to." He's so hot and so caring and so good at babying you it's incredibly hard not to fold immediatley.

Eddie pulls you into his lap first thing. Right off the bat, he pulls you close to him to straddle his thighs. He's looking at you with that attentive sweet look, clearly paying full attention and equally in love with you while you tell him about your day. You're laughing at something ridiculous and terrible that happened and he's laughing with you and you think you're on the same page and then he hits you with the "Screw them. Quit." you start to laugh and he does too but you can see a little bit of seriousness behind his eyes. He squeezes your waist and continues "You're my muse. I need you here so I can write songs, come up with good lyrics." He runs his hands up and down your waist, he knows it's working, so he kicks up the dramatics, dipping you and declairing, "The future of corroded coffin depends on it..." pecking your lips. He's not shy about telling you how inspired you make him, he never has been, and you're sure his bandmates would be overjoyed that Eddie has his muse with him full time.

With Billy, he really, really likes playing house with you. If you tell him someone at your job did anything, made your day harder, upset you, said something rude, gossiped about you, you can see the change on his face instantly. He starts picking you up and dropping you off more often than he did, figuring out which coworkers he needs to send intimidating glares to. if you have a rough day he will ABSOLUTELY drop what he's doing and cover you with kisses. He'll rub your back and pull you to sit on his lap and rub his thumb over your cheek. "You should just fucking quit. Fuck them." You tell him it wasn't that bad, just one bad day, but he's been noticing more and more bad days recently. "Hey. Look at me." he guides you to look up at him, locking eyes with that intense eye contact of his. "You don't deserve to be treated like that, and those bastards sure as hell don't deserve someone as great as you." You smile and he does too. "You know, you could just quit. Stay here and be my cute little housewife..." you giggle and he bites your neck, telling you how cute you'd look cooking together while you wear his shirts.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ + ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ, ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ.

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: ᴍɪᴅᴏʀɪᴍᴀ ꜱʜɪɴᴛᴀʀᴏ, ᴀᴏᴍɪɴᴇ ᴅᴀɪᴋɪ, (ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʟᴏʟ)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ꜱʜɪɴᴛᴀʀᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ʀᴏᴄᴋʏ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ꜱᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴏɴ ᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ, ʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱ ᴀɴ ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪꜰᴇ.

[AN: my uni just started to updates might be slow. the beginning is a little show because i just want the plot laid out. thank you so much for all the support on this! i didn't think this would get that much traction but it makes me so happy!]

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

≿━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━≾

Shintaro watched you as you sat in front of the vanity mirror, the lights along the mirror illuminating your face as you gently rubbed in the moisturizer on your face. Your hand reached over to close the lid of the moisturizer jar, gliding past the products in front of it as if they had never existed. He hated that. Every time you reached past the plethora of makeup products displayed on the vanity table, he felt a punch in his gut. He had spent hundreds, even thousands, to get you the most high-end makeup. Gucci, Dior, Chanel. Every luxury brand that existed on the market, yet you reached over for a generic drug store tube of lipstick each time. You wore the plain nude shade, barely visible on your lips. Despite the many vibrant, bright and dark colours in front of you, your hand always made its way to the nude shade. He had suggested and even begged you to wear more - a little mascara or eye shadow - but you refused. Every time it was the same lipstick—no matter where you were going. Just like your choice in colours, Shintaro began to find you… boring. Dull. Plain. Uninteresting. He hated it, and in a way, hated you—your simplicity. You never wore the racy lingerie he got you - aside from special occasions, but even those had become rare. Life with you had started to become a chore: the same routine, the same conversations - you'd ask about his day, ask what tea he would like to drink, ask about coworkers - it was like being trapped in a loop. Because of your simplicity, it was easy to notice every detail about you - if you switched to a new perfume, shampoo, and clothes. So when he saw the one vibrant red lipstick tube out of its usual place, he immediately knew what was happening. He cleared his throat as he tightened his tie, fixing his suit in the floor-length mirror. The joint walk-in closet was pretty spacious, with enough room for your vanity table and enough space for him to get ready. It was your idea to have that. You had said that it brought you closer, that it was a very intimate gesture to get in front of each other. "You finally wore that Dior lipstick, huh?" He spoke up, not looking away from the mirror. "Yes. It's a lovely colour." Shintaro was taken aback. He didn't expect you to reply so quickly - actually, he didn't expect you to reply at all. He turned towards you. You had your jewelry box open and were going through it, trying to find a pair of earrings. The event was black-tie, so he assumed you would wear the pearl earring his mother had gotten you - making him confused as to why you were going through the jewelry box since you kept the pearl earrings on the ceramic tray by your perfumes. He inhaled. He knew why the lipstick was out of place - a reason that made his stomach uneasy - but he couldn't muster up the courage to say it, to hear those words come out of his mouth. "Have you seen my Swarovski set? The one with the necklace-" "Who is he?" Shintaro asked, turning towards you. You didn't turn around, staring at his reflection in the mirror in front of you. You stared into his green eyes, seeing rage beginning to frost his vision. You took a deep breath and looked down at the jewelry box, keeping your composure. "I thought you we weren't gonna tell," You replied as you closed the jewelry box, getting up from the chair and walking to one of the closest to your right. "I remember you explicitly laying out rules about this," You opened the closet door and began to push back the few boxes on the shelf in the closet. You paused to pull out a velvety box from the back, smiling before turning around and walking to the vanity. "Or does that only apply to you and the coworkers you fuck?" You asked as you opened the box. Shintaro took in a deep breath. He turned around and began to fidget with his cuffs, looking at his reflection and trying to regulate his breathing. "Is she going to be there?"

"y/n-" "Is she?" "What's gotten into you?!"

It took a moment for Shintaro to realize that he had raised his voice. He turned to you, face feeling flushed and heart thumping in his chest. Your eyes hadn't left the mirror, watching as you put in the stud for the earrings. 

"Uber back," You said as you closed the purple box in front of you. "I'm taking the car." 

~

There were only three rules to your arrangement. 

Not with anyone you know. Not in the house. Not revealing anything. You figured Shintaro made those rules under the guise that you wouldn't participate - how could you, a doting wife like you, participate in such an act? - or at least, the version of you that Shintaro liked thought that. 

You wanted to have hope that by the end of the arrangement, you would be back to normal, putting this whole thing behind and moving on - but the more it went on, the more that vision faded. 

None of you had followed the rules. You could smell Mei around the house, thankful that Shintaro had the decency not to fuck his mistress on your bed. You weren't a saint either, fucking your husband's friends on the kitchen counter before going and sleeping next to your husband as if nothing happened. The only rule yet to be broken was the last one—not telling each other anything. But what was the point when you knew that your husband was fucking his younger coworker on the same couches he sat down and had tea with you on? 

You'd had enough. 

You had Daiki's number from the times he'd babysat Kota. Too nervous to call, you sent a text. 

'r u free tonight?'

Immediately you got a reply.

 'i'm free after 6.'

'come to my place at 6:30. shintaro is out for a meeting.' 

'happy endings' - Kiyoshi Teppie x Reader (pt.1)

part 2

nsfw // 18+ content

You didn't know how bad the condition of Kiyoshi's leg really was until you were sitting in the infirmary with him listening to the nurse talk. He collapsed in the middle of the game, unable to get back up, causing him to be carried to the infirmary on a stretcher. Usually, Riko would be the one to accompany him but the game was at its peak and there was no way the team could manage out on their own - that's where you came in.

You followed the paramedics as they carried Kiyoshi to the infirmary - putting him down on the bed and the nurse rushing to aid him - it was awkward, not knowing anything about what was happening and standing in the corner. When the nurse was done her examination she stood back and began to talk to Kiyoshi - Kiyoshi's face relaxed as he took in a deep breath, indicating goos news - after her talk with Kiyoshi she turned to look at you. "There are some steps you need to do before he can go back," She said as she gestured you to follow her. You made your way over to her, watching her sit down on the bed next to Kiyoshi's injured leg.

He had simply pulled a muscle, and with his previous injury, it had a horrible effect on his leg. His muscles were tense, locked almost as the nurse attempted to move them. The sight was rather repulsive - it looked like his legs had been injected with blotchy steroids - but you kept a poker face as you watched the nurse massage his leg. She walked you through the various techniques that would calm his muscles down, pressure points that would relax him and so on.

"Repeat this for 30 minutes and you should be good," She said as he got up. "I recommend that you do this massage before and after any form of physical exertion."

You weren't close with Kiyoshi at all. You knew him, he knew you, but other than that you two were ghosts to each other. Acquaintances would be the appropriate term. Did you have a crush on him despite that? Maybe - leaning more towards yes. It was awkward massaging your crush - but it was part of your job, or a new addition anyways - so you tossed your discomfort aside and started to recreate the motions the nurse was doing before.

"You're good at this,"

You looked up at Kiyoshi.

"You're so much gentler than her-" He said adjusting his position. "She was practically boxing with my leg."

You flashed a small smile before turning back to his leg. The room went quiet again. You found yourself focusing on the task - too absorbed in it to have your guard up about your other surroundings - so when you heard a moan your body jerked up and you stopped. You looked at Kiyoshi - whose face was burning red - 'I'm a little touch-sensitive,' He said trying to laugh it off. You simply nodded and went back to massaging, trying to ignore your panties getting damp and the weird feeling in the bottom of your stomach when you replayed the sound over and over again in your head.

You came into the infirmary thinking that it was a one-time job - and after hearing Riko marvel at how quickly Kiyohis leg got better after the massage - you got promoted to full-time. Before and after practice and games, you would have Kiyoshis leg in your lap as you gently glide your hands on his calves, pressing down on the spots as you were instructed, for half an hour each time.

A perverted part of you actually liked the job - I mean, you got to be so close to your crush. You would often zone out and stare at him as he tried to crack jokes to try to lighten up the atmosphere. You noted that you were weird for getting some sick kick out of getting to touch him like this - the intimacy caused butterflies in your stomach - and you would pretend not to notice the many times he would moan or grunt during your sessions, sometimes you'd purposefully go over his sensitive spots to hear his moans - because oh my god, he sounded hot. It was wrong, and you knew that, but seeing him squirm under your touch itched something in you that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

It sounded like a laid-back job, but trying to work through the literal rock-hard muscles made your hands sore - 'i should be getting paid,' you thought to yourself as you put Kiyoshis leg on your lap for your massage session - but sadly, you were getting promotion after promotion with no wage insight.

"What?!"

You looked at Riko in disbelief. You were standing in front of her father's gym - freezing your ass off from the cold wind - ignoring the towering figure next to her. You were not a violent person, but at that moment you could've killed Riko. You paid no mind to Kiyoshi as he stammered next to Riko - 'it's no problem - i don't even need it' - but the way Riko was staring at you contradicted that.

You were the only one who knew how to do the massage - down to the groves and all - so it made that Riko call you when Kiyoshi's body was stiff as a rock. The last game in the tournament had pushed him to the edge, his body sore still a day later, so Riko suggested that you do his massage again - only it be a full-body one. You hated the idea, but deep down you knew that you had to do it - and after emptying out Rikos wallet as payment - you followed her as she led you and Kiyoshi inside her father's gym. There was a dedicated yoga room - with blinds that could be pulled down - 'kinda convenient,' You point out as you enter the room. 'the women feel more comfortable having the windows blocked during their yoga session, so my dad installed them,' Riko replied - you helped set up the makeshift massage table and bid Riko farewell as she exited the room.

"Uh - I should go change," Kiyoshi said awkwardly. "The lockers are too far - just change in here, I'll look away." You had been caressing this mans legs for a little over a month now, you had established a very sturdy professional relationship with him, so you saw no problem with him changing in the same room - besides, you were going to see him almost naked anyway.

You kept it professional as you turned around and let him change - minus the few glances you shot at his reflective metal water bottle showing his naked back - and as soon as he was stripped down to his underwear you got to work. He got on the massage table and you began right away. His muscles immediately relaxing under your touch. Your body froze when you heard the strained moan that escaped his mouth when you started to massage him. You quickly learned how sensitive Kiyoshi actually was - he would squirm under your touch, bite his lips and curse under his breath when you would go over certain spots - your brain was foggy from the hormones raging within you, making you go quiet. Too quiet to a point where it looked like you were mad.

"Your hands feel like clouds," Kiyoshi remarked as you massaged his shoulders. "Apparently clouds are super heavy," You said as you pressed down on his shoulders. "They weigh tons." Kiyoshi chuckled at that. "There go my dreams of sleeping on clouds," He joked. You - as usual - gave your quick smile before your face dropped into its emotionless state - 'don't look at his back. don't look at his back,' you looked at his back in full view and your heart stopped. it was like staring at a greek-god. you felt almost honoured to be touching him like this.

No one could tell my look at him, but Kiyoshi was in horrible condition - there was no way that he could play more than a quarter, and that's the optimistic angle - but you tried your best to pull through it.

"I'm weighing the team down, aren't I?"

It broke your heart hearing that.

"No, you're our leading player. You carry the team, to be honest," You said trying to make him feel better. "You should joke more often," He replied. "I'm being serious-" "Whatever," He mumbled.

You had never seen Kiyoshi like this before - he was always sporting a happy-go-lucky attitude and smile - and though it wasn't part of your job, you decided to cheer him up.

"Let's make a deal," You said as trailed down to his back. "If you win, I'll give you another full body massage," He didn't look too amused by that. "With-" that piqued his interest. "A surprise to give your day a happy ending."

"Seriously-" "I'm dead serious."

Kiyoshi played like a monster after that massage, outdoing Kagami when it came to dunking. You didn't know that he'd suddenly get such an urge to play after your offer - was he really that interested in a full body massage? - everyone wanted to know what you had done to fire him up so much after the game.

"Tell me," Riko said as you two packed up the last of the stuff in the locker room. "What did you say to him? Word for word?" "I just told him I'd do s full body massage again-" "And?" "I'd give his night a happy ending. I was thinking of surprising him with some food or-" "You told him WHAT?"

That night in the locker room, you found that happy endings didn't always refer to the princess getting together with the prince. You found out that you had gotten yourself into a BIG big mess.

It felt weird knowing that Kiyoshi risked his leg for a chance to have you jerk him off - was it really that big of a deal to risk your entire bodily health? - but it felt weirder knowing that he'd be under the impression that you were going to do it. You tried not to think about it too much as you massaged his beck, smoothing over his muscles and you made your way to his shoulders.

"You were on fire today," You blurted. You were nervous and the silence wasn't helping.

"Thanks," He replied.

It was time for him to get on his back. You tried your best not to stare at the growing bulge in his pants. You'd tried your best to ignore the voice in your head screaming at you to grab it, palm it - just touch it in any sort of way - but you refrained. Yes, you had questionable thoughts during your sessions, but you weren't going to do what essentially can be a crime - but then again, that's what he's expecting. You hated that you gave in - your body was raging with lust, panties soaked from the sight of him in front of you - and you slowly moved your hand down to his bulge. You grazed your fingers over it - the moan that followed was all you needed to keep going - slowly you began to palm it, feeling him throb under your touch. You felt the fabric get damp and pulled your hand away - precum had soaked a circle in his underwear - and with that, you grabbed the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down. His dick practically sprung out - 'oh god, it's big' you thought as you stared at it - you slowly reached out and grabbed it in your hands. The sudden touch causing Kiyoshi to let out a loud moan.

Fueled by your own desire to explore his body, you began to pump your hand, slowly going up and down his dick. You focused on the shaft, wanting to feel his veins against your palm. Kiyoshi threw his head back and let out a string of moans - practically screaming when he felt your other hand on his thigh, massaging his sensitive spots with heavenly pressure.

You didn't consider yourself dominant in any way; especially sexually - but the way Kiyoshi withered under your touch awakened a new feeling within you. You liked how in control you were - such a strong, powerful man, crumbling under the touch of someone like you - and the more you watched him squirm, the more pleasure you got.

You felt bad - but the urge to toy with him was too loud to ignore.

___________

ill write sub Kiyoshi smut if this gets 1 note.

interact for good luck | reblog if you have a pretty pussy

feining for frat boy katsuki…

it was hot. loud. half the girls were already screaming over shirtless frat boys grinding against windshields. your friend dragged you out with a “come on, it’s for charity!” and now you’re standing in the corner with a lukewarm lemonade and zero expectations.

you didn’t even want to come to this stupid fraternity fundraiser.

your roommate dragged you out with the promise of half-naked frat boys, but all you’ve seen so far are drenched freshmen trying to flex their way into a hernia.

but then you see him.

he’s got his back turned at first—lean muscle, golden skin, red swim trunks slung way too low on his hips. sunlight catches the water dripping down his back like it’s staged. and when he turns around?

game over. he’s gorgeous.

sharp jaw, wild blonde hair flattened from water, a cocky little smirk on his face as he wrings a sponge out over his head, totally aware of the stares.

and he sees you. right away. ruby eyes locked with yours and gives the most arrogant little up-nod like, yeah. you’re next.

you try to act unaffected. fail immediately.

he saunters over, sudsy bucket in one hand, water dripping down his abs like it’s a fucking calvin klein ad. stops right in front of you, eyeing your car, then you, then your car again. “you the one drivin’ this piece of shit?”

you blink. “excuse me?!”

he shrugs but you can see a little grin tugging on the corner of his mouth, smug and unbothered. “relax. i’ll make it look brand new.”

he puts the bucket down, saunters over, and damn—he’s even hotter up close. tall. muscles for days. and that little scar on his cheek? unfair.

then, leaning closer, voice low: “the name's katsuki bakugo. what’s yours, sweet girl?”

you tell him. maybe a little breathless.

he repeats it once—slow, like he’s trying it out on his tongue. “hm. yeah. i like that.”

and then he goes to work. but not just on the car.

katsuki bakugo washes that car like he’s auditioning for the dirtiest boy band you’ve ever seen. dropping the sponge just to bend over in front of you, ass on full display. making eye contact when he slides his hand over the hood like he’s caressing it. watering himself down with a hose and shaking his hair out like he’s in a shampoo commercial from hell.

by the time he’s done, your car is sparkling. and so are you—flushed, flustered.

he tosses the sponge into the bucket, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and smirks. “lemme know if you need a private wash sometime.”

and then he walks away, with you watching the water dripping down the curve of his spine, no better than a teenage boy ogling the back of a girl's bikini. you swear you black out for a second too.

it’s only a few hours after the car wash before he slides in your dms, smooth but dirty. you’re in your room, still reeling from whatever the hell that was, when your phone buzzes.

king.explosionmurder has sent you a message.

(yeah. that’s his actual handle. because of course it is.) then, you open it.

king.explosionmurder:

can't stop thinking about the girl with the shittiest car and the cutest fuckin’ face.

you stare. then another message pops up.

king.explosionmurder:

u free tonight?

or maybe you're too busy being adorable somewhere else?

your heart does a thing. you type out a reply—something just barely cocky enough to match him:

you:

depends

you always this forward?

king.explosionmurder:

only for girls with shitty taste in cars

so, only you

let me buy you a drink, sweet girl?

you:

fine

you can buy me a drink, frat boy

but for the record?

my taste in cars is not that shitty

king.explosionmurder:

whatever you say beautiful

8 pm, sunset bar down 5th ave

don't be late

katsuki shows up five minutes early, in a black tee that clings to his chest and jeans that should be illegal. hair still messy from his post-car-wash shower. when you walk in, his eyes track you like you’re the only person in the room.

“tch. thought you were gonna flake.”

you roll your eyes. “you’d cry if i did.”

his mouth twitches. “like a damn baby.”

then the date just... hits different. it wasn't what you expected. sure, it’s packed with college students and frat bros, but in the back corner booth? with him?

it’s quiet. comfortable. almost… intimate.

he’s not much of a talker, but with you? he tries. you ask about his major—he’s an aspiring pro-hero, of course—and he asks about yours, grumbling when you light up talking about it, because “fuck, that smile’s gonna kill me.”

and even though he’d die before saying it out loud, the minute you take a sip of your drink and laugh at something dumb he says? he’s gone. head over heels.

he walks you back to your dorm with his hand on the small of your back, even though it’s barely a ten-minute walk. says “text me when you’re in” even though he literally watched you unlock your door. stands there, gruff and gorgeous, waiting.

“gonna invite me?” he asks, tone teasing.

you shake your head, grinning. “not on the first date, i'm not.”

he groans dramatically. “damn. fuckin’ killin’ me here.”

you grin. “goodnight, frat boy.”

but he doesn’t move right away.

just stands there under the warm porch light, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to work off the ache of not touching you again. his shirt clings to him in the summer heat, his jaw sharp in the glow, but it’s his eyes that freeze you in place.

not hard. not sharp. not the glare he usually levels at the world.

but soft. heavy. like you’ve stolen the breath from his lungs and he doesn’t even want it back.

he looks at you like you hung the damn moon.

he takes one small step closer, close enough that you can feel the heat coming off his chest, close enough that if either of you moved just an inch, you’d be kissing.

“goodnight, sweet girl,” he says, voice low and rough, like gravel laced with honey.

it hits you somewhere deep. like he’s branding the words into you.

and then—he actually smiles. a real one. lopsided, shy, the kind of smile you’d never expect from someone who threatens to body slam people over couch cushions.

then he turns and walks away, hands shoved deep in his pockets, head down, like if he looks back even once, he’ll do something stupid like run back and kiss you senseless.

you close the door behind you, heart thudding so hard you swear your roommate can hear it.

you’re screwed. so screwed.

because things after that? they move fast.

to everyone else, he was the guy who'd scream if you left dishes in the sink, throw a beer can at you if you sat on his side of the couch, and threaten to body slam you if you so much as breathe near him.

but the entire frat house knew that their loud, grumpy, terrifyingly efficient frat dad—had a soft spot the size of a planet. and that soft spot? was for you.

you’re the only person allowed in his room during his grumpy post-practice naps. the only one who can touch his hair without him flinching. he’d grumble when you flick his forehead when he was being dramatic but he'd let you.

he might curse under his breath, but when you’d slide onto his lap during movie night, he'd wrap an arm around you like it was instinct. like protecting you came as naturally as breathing.

he had snacks stocked in the mini fridge (not for him, you liked them). he hands you your favorite snack and grumbles, “was on sale. don’t get used to it,” even though it’s never on sale but he bought six of them anyway.

and when finals week hits? he’s a damn soldier for you.

caffeine runs. your favorite takeout. quiet growls at anyone who tries to talk to you in the library. he reads your flashcards like they’re enemy coordinates and quizzing you becomes his personal mission.

but the best part? the tiny, quiet moments in between.

like when he’s losing at mario kart and you’d sit in his lap while he played, steal his fries, kiss his cheek mid-rant just to shut him up.

or when you were too tired to walk back to your place, you just curl up in his bed. not only does he let you, he tucks the blanket around you and kisses your forehead so soft it makes your chest ache.

and somehow, all of that was like magic.

sure, he might’ve acted like the world’s most chaotic, aggressive frat president, but when it came to you? he was all bark, all bite… and all heart.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

are you looking??

Billy the type of guy to curl his hands into your hair and tug on it slightly (not enough to hurt you) while your laying down with him just because he can. Or to get your attention. Likes the noise you make.

my boyfriend billy hargrove headcanons

alarmingly protective

tries to keep you in check with bad behavior as much as possible, doesn’t want you turning into him

like if you’re upset one day and cussing up a storm he’ll tell you to stop and probably say something like “that’s not good for you,”

doesn’t like exhaling his smoke around you because of second hand smoke, around anyone else he wouldn’t care but, you? big no no

unless you ask him to blow smoke into your face or mouth, then of course he’ll do that

dacryphilia, enough said

not really good with heart to heart conversations,

they mainly only arise when he’s super vulnerable like after a fight with his dad

you’re constantly fixing up his cuts and bruises, whatever they may be from this time around

let’s you wear his leather coats only deep enough into the relationship to where he knows he can trust you

when cuddling, holds you indescribably close, longing to make up for the lack of it he never got as a child

earlier in the relationship tho, you two stayed to your opposite sides of the bed,

until one night after a brutal fight with his dad, he climbed through your window and let you fix him up. that night as you lay down, he pulled you into his chest for the first time, and you knew some barriers had finally been broken.

climbing. through. your. window. all the time.

he won’t let you tell anyone but he has a secret love for video games and on off days, he’ll bribe keith so you guys can have the arcade all to yourselves

sometimes will have shutdown periods to where you think he’s ignoring you but in truth, he’s gone off the grid from everyone and will most likely not be back for a couple of days

he’ll be back tho, and you’re the first person he comes to, explaining it wasn’t your fault and never will be and that he just needed his time.

always smells incredible

actually very clean and keeps excellent hygiene

bad jealousy issues. will usually act out at the smallest detail. you’ll calm him down, tell him you’re his and only his, and he’s usually back to normal in a good few minutes.

territorial. leaves hickeys in very visible places, insists on driving you home from school almost every day, throws his arm around you whenever he can sense someone lurking +etc

car sex. all the time. any messes tho and you’re cleaning.

late night drives frequently

spoiling you but being very discreet about it. something like “you said you needed new perfume so,” *tosses you a new expensive perfume, carelessly*

when in fights, he usually takes a drive to calm himself down. he fears he’ll turn into something worse if kept in close proximity when angry with you although you both know he’d never hurt you

when sleeping over either at his place or yours, and he has trouble falling asleep, he’ll light a cigarette in the middle of the night, in bed, and attempt to soothe himself that way by just smoking one

can be mean but that’s to be expected, you’ve grown to take it. although if he ever goes too far, and he notices, he won’t apologize but do something indirectly like a hand to your thigh or a “you ok?”

avid coffee drinker but again, won’t let you tell anyone because that’s “lame” and “for old people”

when in his lifeguard era, sneaks you into the pool after hours just so you can both night swim in peace and maybe skinny dip

was actually the first to say i love you, one night whilst you were applying rubbing alcohol to a cut on his lip,

“this is gonna sting,” *dabs* *silence* “y/n,” “yeah?” “i love you”

has only cried in front of you once, again after you had finished fixing him up and cleaning up some cuts, he began to cry, hard, so you just pulled him into your chest as he sobbed. neither of you have talked about it since.

gets off on you crying, dacryphilia as aforementioned, but usually only when it’s over something petty. if it’s serious, he knows to switch on the best listening front he can and try to shove those other feelings down.

likes his fair share of alcohol but refuses to let you consume too much

the one time you did, he had to prop you up on his shoulder just to get you home. once home, he laid you down on your bed and stood, kind of clueless as to how to take care of someone in this condition

bonus: on good days, he’ll let you bring max with you as you go out and run errands

It’s a Crying Shame - Billy Hargrove

Summary: Billy takes fem!reader to officially meet his friends–Eddie, Jonathan, and Steve. Though, it doesn’t go the way reader hoped it would. 

Based off this request: 

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Voyeurism, invasion of privacy, creepy/perv Jonathan, sneaky intentions (I have no idea how else to word it or if there’s a name for it), gross behavior from them all, dacryphilia, and cockwarming. 

A/N: I hope this is okay!

-

Billy didn’t want to bring you…

He only did it because his friends had given him much too hard of a time about meeting his beautiful, saccharine girlfriend who Billy had tucked away from them.

Perhaps it was for good reason, too. Billy just knew their characters too well– their proclivity for ruining a good thing.

…but you insisted, and he wasn’t in the mood to deter your effervescent self from accompanying him. Though, he was sure he could have with enough snide remarks, each doused in an unforgiving tone.

Billy relished in the fact that it didn’t take much to get what he wanted, and so giving you that one small victory didn’t discount any of his authority. If anything, he wholeheartedly suspected you to recant your eagerness once around his friends, and consequently for you to suffer defeat.

That all your preparation would be a waste. All those probing questions about their interests would lose ground, and all you would be left with was a bruised heart, and maybe even suffer a score to your pride.

He was right.

Keep reading

i think we need some more of billy being a simp for the reader. like he’s still a dick to everyone else but when it comes to the reader he’s a sweet blushy simp mess and everyone is just 👁👄👁🧍”huh?”

a/n: fr this might be my worst fic yet but i- i... oh well, i hope its okay ily anon forgive me pls i promise i tried- but i also was tired for part of it (i like to sit in my bed while half asleep and write at like 4 am sometimes) but here you go! I also kept it maybe slightly lowkey? Cause I do think Billy would be sweeter more so in private; but he can pull the charm and sweetness out in public too yk.

Length: 1.5k

Pairing: Billy x reader

Warnings: none really; slight mention of maybe apathy towards life on Billy's end, fluff if that's a warning lmao, OOC Billy probably? also Jason Carver ew

Oh, he's a Simp - B.H.

The majority of Hawkins High school population believed they had a good read of Billy Hargrove's character. He was the same with everyone; tough and a bit of a jerk- no sometimes just a straight-up asshole. Be it the tone of his voice, the way he wouldn't take people seriously, or the mischievous lit in his voice when he spoke to someone sometimes, Billy Hargrove was bad. And pretty much anyone around him who befriended him were like sheep; craving someone to follow.

But then there was you.

You were the object of his desires. The one who had taken up most of his thoughts- the good ones- and made him into some weirdly shapeable putty.

Not that shapeable though; no one could truly dictate Billy Hargrove. He wouldn't let them.

Billy leaned against the school steps railings; Tommy H and Carol stood near him with Jason Carver. All people that Billy could've really cared less about. He made 'friends' with them, but not really. When it came down to it, they just followed. And it felt nice to have that sort of power, the type where if he so much as gave Tommy a certain look, the freckled bully would heel like a dog and wait.

Stupid. He hated them.

Especially Jason Carver. And he knew that too.

The only meaningful bond he'd made since coming to Hawkins was you. So, when he saw you exit the school he visibly perked up, akin to a puppy seeing his family after they'd been out all day.

It was a bizarre sight for anyone to see. Billy Hargrove, looking at someone who such clear difference to how he looked at anyone else.

"Hey," Billy calls out to you, making you whip your head to look at him leaning on the railings.

He sounds like he usually does. Indifferent. Indifferent to people around him, to what they wanted or thought. He didn't care for them and they cared for him but only in the way of popularity. If Billy Hargrove were to die tomorrow, the only loss for these people would be someone to follow. No one would mourn him.

Maybe you would. If he did die, he hoped at least you'd mourn him.

You pivot to walk towards him, a smile dawning on your features. One that makes him almost smile in return. To everyone else, it looks like maybe his face twitched a bit, maybe a reaction to the sun or a thought he'd had. But his eyes are soft.

When you reach him, your messenger bag strap clutched in your hands, you give him a questioning look, but still smiling. Choosing to ignore the friends Billy kept around him; they'd never been nice people. And you avoided them as best you could. But you didn't avoid Billy even when he was with them.

Billy Hargrove was special. He was rough around the edges; someone who could be cruel and harsh- he could make people cower but also swoon.

He didn't scare you. He had yet to ever do a thing to you that suggested you should be scared. He had intimidated you before, how could he not? The way Billy carried himself demanded that he be respected, that he was a possible force to be reckoned with. Sometimes he still intimidated you, specifically when he was surrounded by his 'friends.'

"You need a ride home doll?"

He pulls his arm out from behind him and pulls you over to the railings, arm around your shoulder and neck almost engulfing you with his large leather jacket-clad arm.

His body was warm against yours as he held you close to his side. It was like you were made to fit in that spot.

Billy gave you special attention and affection he didn't dare offer to anyone else in the entire world. It felt nice, to have someone like Billy be this way with you.

Your relationship was a mystery to everyone around you, and even to yourself if you were being completely honest.

You weren't dating per se; you'd never spoken about being a couple and whatnot, and you weren't sure if you'd been on an actual date with him before. Did the times he took you to the diner after school count? Or the times he would sit in his car during the lunch period while you sat outside eating a sandwich count? No. No, you were pretty sure they didn't. 

Whatever your relationship was with him as of right now was something that lingered in limbo; it teetered between the unknown and something very obvious and clear-cut.

Billy was always one to make it known where he stood with people. Be it with words, or with his actions (aggressive or not, depending.)

Yet with you, he found himself keeping the status of your relationship covered in shadow. It was safe. Not defining it because defining it was committing.

And commitment was scary. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he didn't know how to handle something like that. No one had ever been committed to him, so he was never committed to anyone.

He knew how he felt for you, and it was something he had never felt for anyone before. He had been in relationships before, Billy Hargrove was no stranger to relationships and being with someone else in an intimate manner. However, what he felt for you was something more than a lust that he could deal with in a night.

Was it love? He didn't know. He just knew that you were different. And he was different with you.

"It's okay," you respond to his offer, looking at him through your lashes, his cologne invading your senses when you turned your head to look up at him, "I actually was going to be staying after school to work on a project in the library... I just needed to use the payphone to call home and let my family know."

The library and Billy Hargrove didn't mix. But you and him, they mixed. They mixed well.

Carol and Tommy shared a look at the way Billy was interacting with you.

It was as if no one else existed around him when you had walked out the school doors. It was as if the bad mood he had been in (Tommy couldn't figure out why, but it was mainly Jason's fault, that's all he knew- anytime he'd try to broach the topic, Billy's claws threatened to peak out) had dissipated, or at least it had simmered at the sight of you. And his shoulder muscles seemed to ease a fraction, and his face, while it still looked indifferent, had warmed if only slightly.

It was small. But it was obvious to them. And everyone else.

"I'll stick around with you," he said after he took a deep breath in, getting ready to push himself off of his position against the railing, "can't have you sitting like a loser in the library on your own. Or trying to walk home in the dark."

"My dad could come get me you know," you roll your eyes but secretly you're happy, happy that he wants to stay with you. The library was boring, and albeit Billy wouldn't dare step foot inside the library on any occasion whatsoever, you made it different.

Bearable even.

He also knew he could convince you to leave within the first hour of being there. So it wasn't all bad.

"Scared of driving with me?"

"Sure," you jokingly say, pulling away slowly, "one day when you crash that pretty car cause you're driving way too fast it won't be funny anymore."

"Yeah, 'cause that's gonna happen."

It could, it was just a matter of if he cared if it did or not. That car was precious, the person inside? He wasn't so sure.

"Fine, you can stay," you were glad he was staying, you enjoyed being near this man, "but you can't talk or distract me."

"Never."

"Seriously Hargrove?" Jason Carver opens his big mouth. One that Billy could slap if he so desired, "You're going to the library, with this..."

"Go ahead," Billy had immediately changed in demeanor, fully pulling himself away from you and situating himself a foot in front of you as if he were protecting a baby doe, "finish the sentence shithead."

For everything, Jason wasn't someone who could even fight back against Billy, just like everyone else. Unless he really wanted to have a bloody nose, he would keep his mouth shut.

"...Whatever."

Tommy and Carol, for all their stupidity at times or rude comments and bullying of others, at least knew in those moments to be quiet. As weird as it was to see Billy so easily enraptured by someone, it had been this way since he met you. And nothing would change it.

"I'll see you in the library babe," how can he just call you that so casually; it makes your stomach flutter.

"Okay," you linger for a moment as if something else might happen. But it doesn't, and that's okay.

Because right now, your relationship is still trying to find its ground. It's still trying to see where it stands, and Billy Hargrove is still trying to figure it out himself.

All he knows is that he's a fool for you, and he doesn't hate that. He doesn't hate it at all.