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thought i was going to sleep but im awake. so i& #39;m writing this pillow humping thread real quick...
Kirishima stumbled into his dorm room, shutting the door behind him quickly as he panted less from exertion and more from the effort of trying to keep his arousal under control.
Kirishima stumbled into his dorm room, shutting the door behind him quickly as he panted less from exertion and more from the effort of trying to keep his arousal under control.
It wasn’t fair, he thought as he roughly pushed the shorts he’d trained in off his legs.
It wasn’t fair that Bakugou could be so wholly unaffected by him, while just a few minutes sparring with the blond reduced him to this desperate mess.
He was just a hard cock with legs.
It wasn’t fair that Bakugou could be so wholly unaffected by him, while just a few minutes sparring with the blond reduced him to this desperate mess.
He was just a hard cock with legs.
Tossing his shirt across the room, uncaring of where it landed, Kirishima reached into the back of his wardrobe to unearth his secret shame placing it delicately on the floor.
A custom made dakimakura with Bakugou in his hero suit printed on the cover. He’d gotten it as a joke from Kaminari for his birthday to “cement the bromance” between him and Bakugou.
All of their friends had laughed and taken pictures with the pillow.
All of their friends had laughed and taken pictures with the pillow.
And Kiri had laughed too, all the while trying not to let his eyes linger too long on pillow Bakugou’s pecs. Or how pillow Bakugou smirked like he knew every filthy thought about him that had ever crossed Kirishima’s mind.
The real Bakugou was not amused by the gift. He’d cornered Kirishima as they were leaving karaoke and demanded he toss it in the trash. Obviously, Kiri had agreed, assuring Bakugou he had no intention of keeping it.
But then as soon as he got back to his room he was straddling Bakugou’s body, his face pressed against the screen print of his best friend as he fisted his cock like he would die if he didn’t come right then.
Afterward, staring at the drops of his come that marred his once pristine dakimakura, he was only a little ashamed. He mostly felt…relaxed.
This was good. It scratched the itch inside of him without affecting his friendship with Bakugou. He could do this.
Since that first time, Kirishima’s methods had become slightly more advanced. He would occasionally belt a strap around the pillow and sink himself onto the plastic cock, staring down at Bakugou as he fell apart on top of him.
But sometimes, as was the case on this day, Kirishima was already too far in. He didn’t have time to prep himself or secure the strap. He just needed friction.
“Fuck, /Katsuki/,” he breathed into the cotton as he ground his hips down. “You feel that? It’s all because of you.” Kirishima’s fists tightened on the rug beneath them as he rocked against the pillow.
Each drag of his cock against the soft cushion bringing him closer to the edge, he growled, biting into Bakugou’s neck as he rutted against him.
“Wanna fucking wreck you,” he groaned, rocking faster. Bunching the pillow tighter near his groin to push against it harder.
“Wanna fucking wreck you,” he groaned, rocking faster. Bunching the pillow tighter near his groin to push against it harder.
Fuck Bakugou the way he wanted.
This was a punishment. He wanted to take Bakugou’s ass rough, hard. Have him begging Kiri to go slower even as sweat slick hands dug into Kiri’s ass pulling him tighter against him.
“You know,” Kiri growled, humping Bakugou viciously, “You know what you do to me.”
“You know,” Kiri growled, humping Bakugou viciously, “You know what you do to me.”
And pillow Bakugou just smirked at him.
That same fucking sinful smirk that the real Bakugou had flashed when he’d brought Kiri down during their spar. Hands sparking as he tightened them over Kiri’s hardened throat.
That same fucking sinful smirk that the real Bakugou had flashed when he’d brought Kiri down during their spar. Hands sparking as he tightened them over Kiri’s hardened throat.
Had he felt Kiri through his shorts? There was almost no way he didn’t with the way he held him down, pinning him to the ground with his hips.
But Kiri hadn’t bothered to wait for confirmation. It was bad enough if Bakugou had felt it. He didn’t need his classmates to see to.
But Kiri hadn’t bothered to wait for confirmation. It was bad enough if Bakugou had felt it. He didn’t need his classmates to see to.
His embarrassment presented itself as arousal then, spurring him on as he continued his insistent press against the pillow. The tight feeling in his stomach making him swallow against a moan.
He was already so close.
He was already so close.
“’m gonna come so deep,” he gasped, breathing harshly against the fabric, “so deep inside of you. Want you to feel me for days.”
Kirisima’s thighs clenched, the familiar feeling of his impending release rising within him until he was doing nothing more than rolling his hips in tight circles against Bakugou.
"So close, so /close/. Take it, Katsuki!”
"So close, so /close/. Take it, Katsuki!”
And before he could stop it, he was coming. Spasms ripping through his body as he splashed his release onto Bakugou.
The press of his chest against the pillow smearing his cum over both of them as he rode the waves of his orgasm.
The press of his chest against the pillow smearing his cum over both of them as he rode the waves of his orgasm.
Kirishima didn’t bother to move when he finished, choosing to catch his breath as he rested his head next to pillow Bakugou’s, tracing a finger over the cupid’s bow of his lips.
And he would’ve stayed that way for a while, as had become his tradition, if there hadn’t been a knock on his door at that moment.
“Oi, shitty hair! Open the door. I know you’re in there.”
“I’m not!” Kiri hit his head on the floor at his stupidity. What the fuck?!
“Oi, shitty hair! Open the door. I know you’re in there.”
“I’m not!” Kiri hit his head on the floor at his stupidity. What the fuck?!
“What the fuck? Kirishima, open the door.” And Bakugou’s tone made it clear Kiri had only seconds to comply before he’d be blasting his way in.
He scrambled to his feet, stumbling into the shorts he’d dropped and searching frantically for the shirt he’d so carelessly thrown.
He scrambled to his feet, stumbling into the shorts he’d dropped and searching frantically for the shirt he’d so carelessly thrown.
“You’ve got three seconds!”
Kirishima knew he meant it.
Kirishima knew he meant it.
Fuck the shirt. Faster than he’d ever moved, he swiped up pillow Bakugou tossing it into his wardrobe frantically before he dashed to his door, swinging it open breathlessly.
“Bakugou,” he panted. “What’s so important?”
“Bakugou,” he panted. “What’s so important?”
His friend’s eyes narrowed as he took him in, leaning closer to sniff before he paused, his eyes landed on something in Kirishima’s room.
Kiri didn’t look back, but he knew the moment Bakugou brought his eyes back to his that he’d fucked up somehow.
Kiri didn’t look back, but he knew the moment Bakugou brought his eyes back to his that he’d fucked up somehow.
“You kept it.”
Shit.
Shit.
Chancing a glance over his shoulder, half hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was, Kirishima grimaced at the sight of his pillow laying halfway in his wardrobe and half on the floor.
“Bakugou,” he started to explain.
“Bakugou,” he started to explain.
He didn’t know what he was going to say, but it definitely wasn’t going to be the truth. It didn’t matter though because Bakugou spoke over him.
“You’ve been using it.”
“You’ve been using it.”
His gaze traveled down to Kiri’s bare chest and it was only then that he remembered coming against the pillow, relishing the slick wetness of his spend on his stomach.
“Bakugou.” Only this time he had nothing.
“Bakugou.” Only this time he had nothing.
No idea where to go from here now that his biggest secret was out to the person he /never/ wanted to find out.
Bakugou pushed past him, forcing his way into Kirishima’s room determinedly to pick up the pillow.
Bakugou pushed past him, forcing his way into Kirishima’s room determinedly to pick up the pillow.
He stared at it for a long time. No doubt cataloguing every remnant of Kiri’s earlier activity, before he looked up at Kirishima…and smiled.
“I stole a pair of your boxers,” he said casually, walking closer to Kiri as stared thoughtfully at the dakimakura. “I use them when I…” Bakugou shook his head with a little laugh. “Which one of us is the weirdest?”
Kiri blinked at him, trying his hardest to understand what was happening and failing. He blamed the fact that he was being forced to think so soon after an orgasm.
“I don’t…?”
“I don’t…?”
“What I’m saying is, shitty hair,” Bakugou held up the pillow, giving him the same grin that had started this whole mess to begin with. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
-end-
-end-
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