#I HATE HIM N I DESERVE TO BE BULLIED | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

killerelysia · 6 days ago

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Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur!- Solivan brugmansia x Yan!G.N Reader!

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!

Words:10004

Genre: Yandere-(Self aware yandere won the poll)

Summary: You’ve become consumed by your obsession with Solivan Brugmansia. What started as innocent curiosity quickly spiraled into a fixation. He started it and you began to stalk him, learning every detail about his life. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction in making Sol’s world safer while growing increasingly delusional about your connection with him. Your love for him deepens as you fantasize about the future, convinced that you are the one who truly understands him—better than anyone else. Despite the line between reality and obsession blurring, you remain certain: Sol is yours, even if he doesn’t know it yet.. You're his and he's yours...

( Reader is a g.n!)-

Trigger Warning: This content contains themes of obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, mental instability, and delusional thinking, Drugging, Yandere?, Hopeless in love for attention Please read with caution.

Obsessive behavior: The reader becomes dangerously fixated on someone, bordering on stalking and delusion.

Manipulation: The reader engages in schemes to control or harm others, often through deception.

Mental illness: Delusional thinking, possible dissociation from reality, and unhealthy fixation on someone.

Violence: There are references to bullying, physical harm, and emotional manipulation.

Emotional abuse: Both in terms of how the protagonist manipulates others and how they might internalize toxic behaviors.

Stalking: The reader watches and follows the person they are obsessed with.

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named The kid at the back!! Note, The relationship presented here between sol and reader is extremely toxic!! In no way, Just because I'm writing doesn't mean I support this kind of toxicity. Note, It's okay to like sol if you know the flaws and don't be a blind eye on them! Again, I don't support his actions etc! If you hate sol ignore this.

You always knew something was off within the labyrinth of your mind, an ache that whispered solitude in every corner. Perhaps it was loneliness, so profound that you yearned for someone to notice you—anything to shift the weight of your gaze from them to you. Some flicker of curiosity, a moment that lingered in the eyes of another.

Love? No, it wasn't something you believed you deserved. That thought had long been etched into your consciousness like a brand. But if, by some twist of fate, someone were to fall for you, you’d ensnare them with relentless support until they admitted it, an inexplicable, almost desperate logic born from the shadowed corners of your heart.

The end of the first semester brought the storm. It wasn’t just another rough day; it was the day you became a target for the school’s cruelest crew. Fists flew, words cut, and everything seemed to blend into one terrifying blur until Crowe stepped in, his eyes dark with determination.

"Thank goodness you're unharmed," he gasped, breathing heavily, each word a raw mix of relief and pain.

"You’re worried about me? Look at you, you're the one who’s hurt!" Your voice quivered, the disbelief clashing with gratitude.

He stood there, battle-worn and steady, blood trickling from a split lip, the bruises stark against his pale skin. Those who had cornered you were finally satisfied, leaving with the empty laughter of the bored and cruel. Crowe looked at you and shrugged, the glint in his eyes softening.

"As long as you’re safe, this doesn’t matter."

A warmth spread through your chest, alien and consuming. Someone cared. Someone defended you, unyielding in their resolve.

"What's your name, crazy prince?"

He managed a tired, almost mischievous smile. "Jericho. Jericho Ichabod. But just call me Crowe."

You exhaled a shaky breath. "Nice to meet you, Crowe. Call me Y/N."

That moment in the clinic, under the unforgiving fluorescent lights and the sterile scent of antiseptic, became the silent contract that bonded you two. You shared conversations, silent glances, and a strange understanding that made the world seem a little less harsh. For a while, you even harbored a crush, tender and tentative.

But then it hit you, as sudden as that fateful day. Crowe would have done the same for anyone—he was simply good. He was kind. The realization struck with an ache so deep it nearly broke you. Love, you learned, was an unrequited script in your story. But you respected him too much to let it taint what was there.

You laughed at the absurdity of your own heart, wondering how it had come to this: delusional, hopeful, but still grateful for the fleeting feeling of being someone’s concern.

There was always that gnawing thought, like a shadow, lurking at the back of your mind. You tried to shake it off, but it whispered relentlessly: There’s something wrong with the way you love. Maybe it was the way you sought attention, not in small doses but in that raw, hungry kind of way. The way you craved someone’s gaze not as a fleeting glance but as an unwavering fixation.

Too much, you thought, turning the phrase over and over like a bitter pill on your tongue. You wanted to be loved so desperately that it bordered on obsession, a gnawing, insatiable need. It wasn’t the soft, gentle kind of love you read about or saw in movies—it was something darker, almost suffocating. It made your chest tighten with both longing and dread.

You swallowed hard, a dry laugh slipping past your lips as the thought settled in: That’s just you, isn’t it? Creepy Y/N, always wanting more, always needing to be consumed by the flame of someone’s attention. A shiver traced down your spine, and you hugged your arms close, seeking comfort in the cold truth.

Now, you’ve perfected the act. You've slipped so far into delusion that reality feels like it’s cracking at the edges, and your mind might not make it back intact. But you only have one task: work relentlessly and pay off the debt, save the farm that’s been the lifeblood of your family.

Your obsession with love, you remind yourself, is nothing but a sickness—a distraction, unhealthy and unneeded. Focus, you think. Study. Keep your head down. Your father believes in you, doesn’t he? He trusts you with this responsibility. But would anyone love a mess like you anyway? The question loops bitterly in your mind, self-loathing taking hold before you even have the chance.

“Pathetic, isn’t it?” You tell yourself.

Something felt off for a few weeks now, like an odd tension building in the corners of your life. It was... something. It wasn’t anything you could pinpoint, but you couldn’t shake the feeling.

A pair of eyes, always there, always watching. At first, it was subtle—just a flicker of awareness when you turned a corner or sat down. But it was more than that. It was almost a presence, an invisible force that seemed to follow your every move. It wasn’t a simple glance. No, it was far more intense, almost stalking.

And yet, a strange part of you... liked it. It sent a thrill through you, a kind of adrenaline rush you couldn’t explain. You’d find yourself sitting in class, pretending to study, but the sensation of being watched made your heart race. It wasn’t discomfort—it was excitement, a twisted thrill, something you couldn’t shake.

It wasn’t just at University. No, it followed you home too. As you entered your room, you couldn’t help but feel the familiar weight of someone’s gaze on you, lingering in the dark corners, watching through the crack in your door. Your mind spun with a chaotic mix of fear and anticipation. Who was it? Why were they watching you?

There was no reason for it—at least, none you could rationalize. And yet, you found yourself... hoping to meet them. Wanting to meet them. A part of you longed to finally see the one who’d been following you in the shadows. Because somehow, you knew they were close. You knew they were waiting for the right moment to step out from the

The next morning, something was off. The usual routine of brushing off your paranoia seemed heavier, more tangible. Your bedroom window, which you always locked at night, was ajar. Not just unlocked—it had slid open slightly, exposing a crack wide enough to send shivers down your spine. You tried to push it closed, but the latch was broken, the mechanism jammed beyond repair. Had it always been like this?

You stared at it for a moment, the realization sinking in: someone could have come in. Someone might have been inside.

You tried to shake it off, but as the day went on, more pieces fell into place. A gnawing sense of violation crept up your spine when you went to grab your laundry and noticed... something was missing. Not just something—specific clothes. Shirts you’d worn recently, soft hoodies you curled up in, a pair of socks that didn’t match but had sentimental value. Gone.

Your chest tightened, panic flooding your veins, but it wasn’t just fear. A part of you—some sick, pathetic part—felt thrilled. Someone is watching me.

The thought settled in, heavy and dark, but the sharp edges of logic began to dull. Who would stalk you? You’re not even pretty. You weren’t special. Not worth the effort. And yet, here you were, clothes missing, your window breached, the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze following you through every step of your day.

“Normal people would think this isn’t fine,” you muttered aloud to yourself, trying to anchor yourself in rationality. This isn’t fine. This isn’t okay.

But the words fell flat. Somewhere in your mind, reality started to bend. Yes, it was wrong—stalking was wrong. It was invasive, dangerous, terrifying. And yet, the pounding in your chest wasn’t just fear. It was curiosity. It was longing.

The thought twisted in your mind, dark and intrusive: What kind of person would go this far just for me? They must care. They must want to know you in a way no one else ever had. What do they see when they watch? What do they think about?

You couldn’t help yourself. The idea of being desired so intensely that someone would break into your life, leave pieces of themselves hidden in the cracks of your existence—it sent a thrill through you. Wrong. So wrong. But intoxicating.

You paced your room that evening, staring at the broken latch on the window. The moonlight spilled across the floor in sharp lines, almost like it was pointing at the scene of the crime. A part of you wondered if they were watching now. Standing somewhere in the dark, just out of reach, their breath fogging up the glass.

Who even are you? Why me?

The questions spun in your mind, each one pulling you deeper into a strange obsession of your own. You should be scared. You should be scared. But instead, you were intrigued. Drawn in. You wanted to know this person, to see the face that lingered in the shadows.

You sat down at your desk, your reflection catching in the window’s glass. “This isn’t normal,” you said softly, your voice cracking slightly. “I shouldn’t feel like this. I shouldn’t want this.”

But you did. You couldn’t deny it any longer. The thought of someone dedicating their time, their energy, their every waking moment to you—it filled a hole you didn’t know existed. You craved that kind of devotion, twisted as it was.

You caught yourself smiling, a wry, self-deprecating grin. “God, I’m a mess,” you whispered. You leaned back in your chair, staring at the ceiling. Why do I feel this way?

The truth settled in, stark and undeniable: you’d never felt wanted before. Not like this. And now, even if it was wrong, even if it was dangerous, you couldn’t help but feel... excited. Like something in your life was finally happening, shaking you out of the monotony of existence.

You wanted to meet them. To see them. To understand the face behind the gaze that followed you everywhere you went. You told yourself it wasn’t love—not yet. But it was something. Something raw and electric, and you weren’t sure you could resist it.

Your fixation deepened, evolving from a vague thrill to deliberate action. The missing items didn’t alarm you anymore—they exhilarated you. At first, it was small things: a pen left behind on a desk or the bench outside class. Accidental, you told yourself. But you knew better. You weren’t careless. You’d started leaving things on purpose, wondering, hoping, knowing they would take them.

And they did.

The pen was gone when you returned, replaced by nothing but the faintest hint of satisfaction in your chest. You tested it again, leaving behind a notebook with a stray doodle inside—gone by the next day. It became a game. A secret dance between you and this unknown figure lurking in your shadow.

The knowledge that someone wanted these pieces of you made your heart race. Pathetic, you thought, but the warmth in your chest told a different story. You were addicted to the idea, to them. And soon, you weren’t just leaving things behind. You were creating a world where they could exist freely.

You didn’t fix the window. Why would you? You liked to imagine them climbing through it, their hands brushing against the sill, their breath in your room. Fixing it would shut them out, make their life harder. You couldn’t do that—not to them. You told yourself it wasn’t because you wanted them inside, because you were inviting them in. No, it was just… considerate. Thoughtful.

The laugh that bubbled up from your throat at the thought startled you. Soft, at first, then louder. “I’m losing it,” you murmured, but the giggles didn’t stop. They spilled out of you, an almost giddy sound as you turned the idea over and over in your head.

If they were coming in, why not make it easier for both of you? Why not see them, finally see them?

That night, you slipped a tiny camera into the corner of your room, hidden carefully in the folds of an old, dusty bookend. It was subtle, unassuming—nothing that would stand out to anyone who didn’t know it was there.

The thrill of it sent a shiver down your spine. Soon, you’d have answers. Soon, you’d see their face, their expressions, their intent. Ah, what would they look like? You’d imagined it before, of course—soft features, a piercing gaze, maybe even a shy smile. Someone who would look at you with the intensity that had kept you up at night, that had followed you for weeks.

You sat in the middle of your room that night, staring at the blinking light on the camera, anticipation coiling in your stomach. “You’ll come, won’t you?” you whispered to no one. The silence answered back, but you weren’t disheartened. You knew they’d come.

You could feel the laughter building up in your chest again, giddy and uncontrollable. The corners of your lips curled upward as you muttered, “I’m going to see you. Heheh… Soon.” The giggle turned into full-blown laughter, sharp and manic as it filled the room.

This wasn’t normal. It wasn’t healthy. But God, it was intoxicating.

The thought of finally meeting them, of knowing them, sent your thoughts spiraling. Your hands trembled as you checked the camera one last time before heading to bed. It was all set. Everything was perfect. All that was left was to wait.

As you lay in bed, staring at the broken window, your mind swirled with fantasies of what was to come. Maybe they’d speak to you, confess their reasons for watching, for taking your things. Maybe they’d admit their feelings—feelings you were sure existed, even if you couldn’t yet see them.

And if they didn’t? Well, you’d find out soon enough.

“Come on,” you whispered to the empty room, your voice trembling with a mixture of excitement and desperation. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

And with that, you closed your eyes, letting the thrill of anticipation lull you into restless sleep.

You wake up, drowsy and groggy, blinking as you register the faint glow of your camera's recording light. Your heart skips—not from fear but from a jittery excitement. Did it catch something? Your hands move faster than your thoughts, fumbling to pull up the footage.

Last night had been a blur. You’d tried so hard to stay awake, but the meal you’d eaten earlier had lulled you into a deep, undisturbed sleep. As you scroll through the recording, skipping the mundane moments of you tossing and turning, the feed jumps to him.

The man.

His hair, black with vivid green streaks, is loose, falling in soft waves around his face. The mask he wears obscures most of his features, but his eyes—crimson red on the outer ring with fiery orange at their centers—gleam, focused solely on you. His attire is dark and layered: a black t-shirt over a green-striped long-sleeve, necklaces clinking softly with each of his movements. You even catch a glint of the metallic piercings decorating his ears, the upside-down cross swaying slightly as he leans closer.

And then, he speaks.

“Finally found you, pumpkin,” his voice is soft, smooth, almost reverent. You freeze, your pulse hammering against your ribs. Pumpkin?

“I’m sorry about the window,” he continues, running gloved fingers along the edge of your desk. “But it’s a good thing you didn’t fix it, still.” His tone is teasing, like he’s scolding and praising you all at once.

Your hands hover over the keyboard as he approaches your sleeping form on the screen. He kneels beside you, brushing back a strand of hair from your face with deliberate care. “Hyugo’s pills do work,” he murmurs to himself, chuckling faintly. “They make you sleep so peacefully. I can finally see you at night…”

Then, he leans down. His masked face inches closer to your cheek. You watch, your breath caught, as he plants the softest kiss on your skin.

That explains it. The faint pressure you’d felt in your sleep—the fleeting warmth. Your hand instinctively touches the spot on your cheek, even now, feeling its ghost.

Yet instead of terror, instead of the dread that should’ve consumed you, your heart flutters. A warmth blooms in your chest, spreading, suffocating. You press your clasped hands to your lips, trembling not in fear, but in something else entirely.

The stalker. The man. He…he likes you? Watches you every night, praises you even in your most unguarded moments? It’s wrong. It’s so obviously wrong. The rational part of your mind screams at you to call for help, to fix the window, to run far away.

But instead, you giggle.

The sound bubbles out of you uncontrollably, and you quickly clamp a hand over your mouth. You know this isn’t normal. You know something is terribly broken inside of you. But that knowledge doesn’t stop the twisted elation coursing through your veins.

He’s here. He sees you. He wants you.

You rewind the footage, watching it again. This time, you focus on his words, on the reverent way he speaks to your unconscious self. You note the details: the shine of his hair, the small buckle on his collar-like choker, the way his spider-bite piercings catch the moonlight when he tilts his head. He’s beautiful, like something plucked out of your dreams—or maybe your nightmares.

And now, he’s real.

Your hands shake as you stop the playback, staring blankly at the paused image of him by your bedside. The mask hides so much, but his eyes—they burn into you, even through the screen. You imagine what it would be like to see him without it, to hear his voice unfiltered, to—

You slap your cheeks, shaking your head. Focus, Y/N.

But the truth clings to you, suffocating and intoxicating all at once. You know he’s a stalker. You know this situation is dangerous. Yet the thought of fixing the window, of locking him out for good, feels unbearable. The idea of never seeing him again—of never hearing his voice, his praises—sends a pang of despair through you.

“Delusional,” you whisper to yourself, laughing softly. You curl into yourself, gripping the camera tightly. “I’m so delusional.”

But even as you say it, even as you acknowledge the depths of your spiraling thoughts, you can’t stop the lovesick smile creeping across your face.

You couldn’t shake the image of him—the stalker who had taken such a twisted interest in you. His voice, his praise, the way he watched you with that obsessive focus—it haunted your waking thoughts and danced through your dreams.

You needed to know more about him.

At first, you tried to find clues, anything that could lead you to his identity. You scoured your campus, paying close attention to anyone with black and green-streaked hair, those fiery orange-crimson eyes, or piercings that matched the ones you’d seen on the footage. But nothing. He was a ghost, blending seamlessly into the crowd or watching from somewhere beyond your grasp.

Still, you didn’t give up. Each day, you upped your game. You adjusted your routine to appear natural, but always left subtle traces behind—a scarf forgotten on a bench, a pen dropped intentionally in class. When you circled back, the items were always gone, confirming he was following you even during the day. Good, you thought with a lovesick smile.

Then there was the matter of the food.

You began preparing two batches of every meal—one real and one fake. The fake was the key to your plan. You seasoned it as usual but spiked it with just enough sleeping pills to incapacitate. You made sure to label it with your name, store it visibly in your fridge, and place a half-finished glass of juice beside it. You wanted it to look lived-in, convincing, a perfect trap should he decide to raid your kitchen while you left so he can do be fooled with the fake, food.

Your window remained unfixed, and you started leaving the back door slightly unlocked, just in case. You didn’t want to inconvenience him. He might notice and think you were trying to keep him out, and you couldn’t have that.

Meanwhile, your eyes darted constantly across the campus, scanning crowds for any hint of him. You noted everyone’s schedules, mapped out their movements, even engaged in small talk to see if anyone slipped or seemed overly interested in you. But you were careful, never letting on that you were actively looking for someone.

The high alert you maintained made your classmates think you were just unusually focused. Nobody questioned you, and you made sure to keep up appearances: smiling, laughing when appropriate, pretending you didn’t feel eyes on you during every step you took.

Your awareness sharpened to the point where you could feel even the subtlest shifts in your environment. A shadow lingering a little too long, footsteps trailing you just far enough to seem coincidental, and the faint brush of something in your periphery. It thrilled you.

That night, everything was in place. You prepared your fake dinner, complete with a side of drugged juice, and left it in the kitchen. The back door was left unlocked, the window slightly ajar. You dimmed the lights in your room, slipped into bed, and forced yourself to feign sleep.

Your heart raced as you waited. Will he come tonight?

Time passed, but you stayed still, fighting the urge to peek at the camera feed. If this worked, you would finally get what you wanted—a glimpse of him unguarded, vulnerable.

The plan worked almost too perfectly. The camera, discreetly tucked in a shadowy corner, confirmed what you already suspected—he was breaking in nightly. Sol fell for the fake food every time, drugging it to keep you in a deeper sleep. You couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride. He's trying so hard for me.

That night, you left everything in place as usual. The drugged fake food was strategically left out, the door slightly ajar, and your performance as a deep sleeper rehearsed to perfection. You even regulated your breathing to mimic the rise and fall of slumber, fully aware he was watching. The excitement bubbled under your skin, but you held it in check. Be still. He can’t suspect.

You felt him enter, the faintest whisper of air as the door creaked open. He moved quietly, though not silently. Every step he took was deliberate, careful not to wake you. You heard the faint sound of him checking the food, his soft hum of satisfaction as he saw it gone!. Good. He thinks I ate it.

The mattress dipped under his weight as he sat down beside you. Your pulse quickened, but you kept your breathing steady, your body relaxed. He leaned close, his breath warm against your neck.

“Pumpkin...” he whispered, the word barely audible, yet it sent a shiver down your spine. His voice was soft, tender, laced with a devotion that felt almost holy in its intensity. “You’re so perfect, you know that? Even when you sleep, you’re beautiful.”

You felt his hand brush against your hair, a soft caress like you were something precious, fragile. He moved closer, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you. Then, he did something you didn’t expect—he lay down beside you. His arm draped over your waist, pulling you close as though you belonged there, as though this was his right.

He buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply. “You smell like heaven,” he murmured, his voice barely above a breath. “I’ve waited so long for this. To hold you. To be close to you.”

Your heart clenched. Not in fear or disgust—no, it was something else entirely. He’s... cute? The thought struck you like a lightning bolt, absurd and yet undeniable. There was something endearing about the way he clung to you, his touches reverent, his voice filled with genuine emotion. This is wrong. He’s a stalker. He drugs my food. He breaks into my house... but... You bit the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile.

He continued to whisper sweet nothings, his words blurring into a hazy mix of praise and adoration. “You’re everything to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” His hand slid up to brush your hair back, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “You’re mine, pumpkin. You’ll always be mine.”

A part of you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Mine? You were the one trapping him, leading him into this elaborate game of cat and mouse. And yet, his words made your heart flutter. What is wrong with me? you thought, though the answer was glaringly obvious. You were broken, disturbed, a sick and twisted mirror of his obsession.

But you were self-aware, at least. That counted for something, didn’t it? No. No, it doesn’t, you admitted silently, feeling a pang of guilt.

Still, you played your part perfectly. You didn’t stir as he shifted, wrapping his arms around you more tightly. You felt the weight of his head resting against yours, his breath warm and steady.

“You make me feel alive,” he whispered. “Even if you don’t know it, even if you’d hate me if you did... I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. But instead of fear, you felt a sick sense of satisfaction. He needs me.

You clasped your hands together under the blanket, holding them to your mouth as though in prayer. Your lips curved into a soft smile, hidden from his view. This was real. Someone wanted you, needed you, loved you so obsessively it consumed them.

It didn’t matter that it was wrong, that it was dangerous. You weren’t afraid. If anything, you felt secure, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace. How ironic, you thought, giggling softly in your mind. The stalker makes me feel safe.

The hours dragged on, but he didn’t move. He stayed there, holding you as though he was afraid you’d vanish. When his breathing finally evened out, signaling he’d fallen asleep, you dared to open your eyes just a sliver.

You caught a glimpse of his face, partially obscured by the strands of his black-and-green hair. Even in sleep, there was a softness to his features, a vulnerability that made your chest ache.

He’s beautiful.

You closed your eyes again, biting your lip to stifle another giggle. You were a good actor, yes, but deep down, you knew the truth. You weren’t pretending for his sake. You were pretending for yours, to keep up the illusion that you still had control.

Because the reality was, you didn’t.

He had you just as much as you had him.

Each night, you lay in bed, pretending to be under the spell of the fake food laced with sleeping pills. Each night, he came to you, a shadow in the moonlight, and you reveled in his presence.

Your adoration for him grew like an uncontrollable fire, consuming every rational thought. The notebook you'd started was your secret shrine to him. Sketches filled the pages—his face, his hair cascading like a dark waterfall, his intense eyes, the way his lips curled into the faintest smile when he whispered sweet things to your sleeping form. You had to capture it all. Your pencil scratched furiously, your mind replaying his words, his touch, the way he’d caress your face and murmur promises as if you were his most precious treasure.

That night, you prepared everything as usual. The fake food sat on the counter, the door left just barely ajar, your blankets pulled up to mimic serene sleep. You curled into the mattress, feigning slumber, though your heart raced with anticipation.

The familiar sound of the door creaking open sent a thrill down your spine. His footsteps were soft but unmistakable, and you felt the mattress shift as he sat down beside you. Here we go.

“Pumpkin,” he murmured, his voice tinged with a tenderness that made your chest ache. His hand brushed your hair back from your face, and you fought the urge to smile. “Why don’t you ever turn back to look at me? I saw you at class today...”

Your breath hitched ever so slightly. What?! Your mind raced, but you maintained your facade. His voice was soft, almost pleading, and it tugged at something deep inside you.

He sighed, lying down beside you and draping an arm over your waist. His grip was possessive, but his touch was gentle, warm. “I wish you would,” he whispered. “I wish you’d look at me, smile at me, talk to me… God, I’d do anything to make you happy.”

Your heart thudded loudly in your chest. Is this real? His words, his touch, the way he held you—it all felt surreal, like a dream you didn’t want to wake from.

“If anyone bullies you…” he began, his voice low and serious. “They’re done for. I’ll make sure of it.”

Bullies? Your mind latched onto the word. Did he know about the snide remarks, the subtle glances from classmates? Wait… Your heart skipped a beat as realization dawned. Same school?!

You wanted to scream, laugh, cry—every emotion hit you at once. He was there, so close, within reach even during the day. The idea sent a jolt of giddy energy through you. He's been watching me even then.

He shifted, his lips brushing dangerously close to yours. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you fully, and your heart practically stopped. Instead, he kissed the corner of your lips, lingering just enough to make your stomach churn with a dizzying mix of emotions.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispered. “Good night, pumpkin.”

You waited, your body tense, until you heard the faint click of the door closing behind him. Only then did you sit up, your breaths coming fast and shallow. Same school, your mind repeated, looping the thought like a mantra.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, your fingers trembling as you opened your notebook. The sketch of him was already half-finished, but now you added the details you hadn’t dared before—the soft smile he wore when he looked at you, the way his hair framed his face like ink spilled on paper. You scribbled furiously, giggling to yourself as your mind replayed his words.

“He’s mine,” you whispered, clutching the notebook to your chest. The idea felt like a delicious secret, one only the two of you shared.

You fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, your laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. It was manic, unhinged, and you couldn’t stop. You covered your mouth with your hands, trying to stifle the sound, but it burst out anyway.

He’s at my school. He’s watching me. He wants me.

The thought spiraled in your mind, sending shivers of excitement down your spine. You hugged yourself, the ghost of his embrace still lingering on your skin.

“Ahahaha…” Your laughter echoed in the room, a twisted symphony of delight and madness. This is love, you thought, your smile widening. “He loves me. He loves me so much.”

Dark circles framed your eyes, your energy depleted from balancing your nightly "acting" with day-to-day university life. Every night, after he left, your mind raced with fantasies of him, spinning scenarios that left you restless, yet alive.

Crowe noticed, of course. He always did. His concern showed in the way he glanced at you during lectures, and eventually, he leaned over, whispering, “You look like death. Go to sleep in the next class. I’ll get the notes for you.”

You flashed him a polite smile, brushing off his concern. “I’m fine, really. I was going to head to the library anyway.”

Crowe’s friend Brittney was hard to miss. Tall, striking, and effortlessly commanding, she was the kind of person who drew attention whether she wanted to or not. Her gyaru style made her stand out even more: bold streaks of color in her hair, immaculate nails, and an outfit that balanced daring and chic. Crowe had asked you to at least try to get along with her, but the truth was, you didn’t see yourself fitting into their world. Too weird, too… you.

Still, you played your part well, smiling sweetly when Brittney asked for help organizing papers. “Of course! Thank you for asking,” you replied, your voice the picture of politeness.

As she walked away, Crowe chuckled. “She’s like that. Rough edges, but she means well.”

You tilted your head, smiling faintly. “Everyone hides something under their skin, Crowe.”

The library was a quieter battlefield until one of the bullies decided to play a cruel joke. A mean girl "accidentally" knocked over a shelf Brittney had been working on. Papers and books scattered everywhere, and you could see Brittney’s jaw tighten, her polished exterior cracking.

“F***ing bitch!” Brittney snarled, tackling the girl with surprising ferocity.

It escalated quickly. Books flew, chairs screeched, and the air buzzed with tension. You tried to step in, hands raised in a gesture of peace, but chaos had already broken loose. When one of the girls attempted to strike Brittney from behind, you didn’t hesitate—you shoved her hard, pushing her back into a table.

Pain shot through your wrist as you deflected her, and you realized she’d managed to scratch you with something sharp. Blood welled up, staining your sleeve, but adrenaline drowned out the pain. Brittney’s punches found their target while you held the attacker off.

The fight fizzled when a few bystanders yelled for order, and the bullies slinked away under the librarian’s furious glare. Brittney brushed herself off, her hair askew but her fiery defiance intact. Jess, another of Brittney’s friends, rushed to her side, fretting quietly as she checked her for injuries.

You stood off to the side, cradling your wrist. Jess glanced at you briefly, hesitant, before returning her focus to Brittney. You caught the faintest flicker of concern in her expression. She does care, you thought, but you let it go.

Crowe appeared moments later, taking in the scene with wide eyes. “What the hell happened? You’re hurt—let me take you to the nurse.”

You shook your head, offering him a tired smile. “I’m fine. I can go on my own.”

Crowe didn’t look convinced, but you turned away before he could argue, clutching your injured wrist as you made your way out. It’s nothing, you told yourself. Just another day in your fractured reality, another crack in the mask you wore so well.

The nurse’s office was a quiet reprieve from the chaos of the library. You slipped into the restroom nearby first, taking a moment to breathe and inspect your injured wrist under the fluorescent lights. The skin was raw and red, the gash deeper than you initially thought, but the pain was dulled by the adrenaline still coursing through you. You splashed water on your face, smoothing your features back into a neutral mask before heading into the nurse's domain.

The hallway seemed endless as you walked, with lingering eyes on you from passing students. Whispers buzzed faintly, but no one dared approach. Good, you thought. You preferred it that way. Once inside, the nurse noticed your bruised state immediately.

“Another bully victim?” she sighed, her tone exasperated but kind. “This school, honestly... I need to file a formal complaint with the principal.” She gestured for you to sit, but you stayed standing, pretending to be fascinated by the various medical supplies lined up on the counter. You didn’t want to stay still. It made you too vulnerable.

As you idly picked at a box of bandages, a voice sliced through the quiet atmosphere.

“Did you have to punch that girl’s boyfriend that hard, Sunny?”

“Yes,” came a familiar, firm reply. “They hurt them. So I did.”

Your heart stopped. That voice—it was him. The one who watched, who whispered. The voice that curled around your mind every night like smoke.

Without thinking, you stumbled backward, finding a corner to hide behind as your gaze sought him out. And there he was.

There was something almost surreal about seeing him in the light of day, his presence no longer confined to the shadowy cocoon of your nights. "Sunny," as his companion called him—was perched on the nurse’s bed, his plum hair catching the light in a way that made it seem alive, streaked with vibrant green like ivy climbing through ruins. His heterochromatic eyes burned like embers: orange at their core, ringed with a deep crimson that seemed to pulse with restrained intensity. They were a contradiction, much like him—fiery yet haunting, sharp yet soft.

His features were angular, carved with precision, yet softened by the slight pout of his lips and the faint curve of his nose. He radiated a raw, magnetic energy that felt both predatory and tender, like the kind of beauty that ruins you, and yet you crave it. The piercings that adorned his ears gleamed faintly, tiny markers of rebellion etched into his skin. The hoops on his lower lip caught the light every time he spoke, adding a glint of silver to the vibrant palette of his face.

His striped shirt clung to him, black and green lines stretching across his lean frame. The black t-shirt layered beneath was slightly oversized, softening the edge of his appearance, while his necklace dangled lightly with each of his movements—a two-pronged key, dangling with an air of mystery. His jewelry matched his aesthetic perfectly: the buckled choker hugging his throat, the key necklace swaying with each breath, the metal glinting like secrets waiting to be uncovered.

Even seated, he had a presence that demanded attention, though he seemed to wield it effortlessly, unaware of the effect he had on the room.

The blue-haired boy standing next to him was smaller in stature, and despite his exasperated expression, there was a gentle authority in the way he interacted with Sol.

“Isn’t it time to go, Sunny?” he asked, clearly used to Sunny's antics.

“Nope,” Sunny replied lazily, crossing his arms. “Not until Y/N gets bandaged.”

Your breath hitched. Your name falling from his lips sent a jolt through your chest, like an electric wire connecting directly to your heartbeat. You pressed further into the corner, praying they wouldn’t notice you, but you couldn’t stop watching.

The blue-haired boy—Hyugo, as Sol addressed him—sighed, dragging Sunny off the bed with surprising strength despite their size difference. “Sunny,” he chided, like a parent scolding their child. Sol resisted briefly, pouting, before reluctantly letting himself be led away. His footsteps echoed faintly as they left, and you waited until you were sure the coast was clear before emerging from your hiding spot.

You managed to snap a few discreet photos of Sol. You told yourself it was just for memory’s sake, but when you looked at them again, your stomach fluttered.

Sol, with his chaos and beauty, was so striking, so utterly unique. And he was yours to admire, even if only from a distance.

The nurse’s hurried return interrupted your spiraling thoughts. Her voice pulled you back to reality as she gestured for you to sit on the bed she had prepared. "And what about the other two students?" she asked, glancing toward the hallway.

“They left,” you muttered, your voice neutral as you fought to keep your heart rate under control. The nurse bustled around, grabbing supplies while she filled the silence with small talk.

“They’re such interesting boys,” she said, her voice warm with familiarity. “Hyugo is such a helpful young man. Always looking out for that friend of his. You know, despite his height, Sol is surprisingly sweet—like a friendly giant."

Your hands tightened around the edge of the bed, nails pressing into the vinyl. Hyugo. That was the blue-haired boy’s name. The nurse’s description of him as Sol’s protector matched perfectly with what you had seen. You forced out a soft giggle, though it escaped as a hiccup, drawing the nurse’s attention. “Are you alright?” she asked.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied quickly, masking your excitement. “It’s just… they seem close. It’s kind of nice.”

“Oh, they are,” she continued, dabbing antiseptic on your wound. “Hyugo’s always been like that. And Solivan…” She paused, as though thinking of the right words. “He’s a bit of a sad case, really. He’s been through a lot, poor thing. But he’s strong—so much stronger than he realizes.”

Your breath hitched. Solivan. Your world tilted as the name settled in your chest like a brand. Solivan Brugmansia. It echoed in your head, sweet and perfect, like a melody only you were meant to hear.

The nurse’s voice faded into a murmur as she continued her work, oblivious to the storm brewing within you. Your heart raced, your mind spinning as you turned the name over and over in your head. When she finished bandaging your hand, you thanked her in a daze and stumbled out of the office.

The hallway was empty, but you didn’t care. You ducked into the restroom, slamming the door shut behind you. The sterile walls seemed to close in as your emotions surged. A giggle bubbled up, spilling out in shaky bursts before escalating into full-blown laughter.

“Solivan Brugmansia,” you whispered, your voice reverent, almost trembling. You repeated it, louder this time, your reflection in the mirror smiling back at you. “Solivan Brugmansia. Solivan. Brugmansia. Sol. Solivan.”

The name felt like magic, a key unlocking something wild and unhinged within you. You chanted it like a prayer, each repetition filling you with a twisted joy. “Solivan Brugmansia, Solivan Brugmansia, Solivan Brugmansia—”

Your giggles turned to shrill laughter, a sound that echoed eerily in the small restroom. You clutched the sink for support, your bandaged hand trembling as your thoughts spiraled further. I know his name. I know his name! The realization was intoxicating, overwhelming, consuming every rational thought you had left.

“He’s perfect,” you whispered to yourself, tears of manic delight prickling at your eyes. “I’ll meet him. I’ll be normal. I’ll be normal. I’ll—”

A sudden knock on the door shattered your reverie, the sound loud and jarring against your fragile composure.

“Could you keep it down in there?” a muffled voice called, annoyance dripping from the tone.

Your laughter cut off abruptly, replaced by a cold, seething anger. Slowly, you turned toward the door, your reflection in the mirror now a twisted, distorted version of yourself.

They dared to interrupt.

You opened the door slowly, your movements deliberate, controlled. The person on the other side—a student, their face vaguely familiar—took a step back, their irritation fading into nervousness as they met your gaze.

“Is there a problem?” you asked, your voice low and dangerous. The edges of your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, and your tilted head made you look like a predator sizing up its prey.

“N-No, just…” they stammered, their confidence crumbling under your cold stare. “You were, um, being kind of loud—”

Before they could finish, you took a single step forward, and they flinched. The hallway seemed darker now, your presence casting a shadow that felt far too large for one person.

“I’ll keep it down,” you said softly, the sweetness in your tone laced with venom. Then, leaning in just enough for them to catch the glint of something unhinged in your eyes, you whispered, “But you should watch where you stick your nose next time.”

They stumbled back, their mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, before muttering a hurried apology and retreating down the hall.

The sound of their footsteps faded, you turned back into the restroom, closing the door with a quiet click. Your reflection in the mirror greeted you, your smile widening as you touched your lips, imagining them shaping his name again.

“Solivan Brugmansia,” you whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

The encounter had done nothing to dim your obsession. If anything, it only fed it. Soon, you thought, your heart pounding with anticipation.

You started stalking Sol and Hyugo like clockwork. Every day on campus, you trailed after them, your movements as careful as a predator circling its prey. They were always together—Hyugo acting like a makeshift guardian while Sol seemed lost in his own world. Their favorite spot quickly became apparent: the rooftop. It wasn’t technically allowed for students to hang out there, but that didn’t stop them. Sol seemed to loathe the cafeteria, his disdain for its noise and chaos written all over his face whenever someone suggested it.

You made it a habit to reach the rooftop before them, ensuring you’d have the perfect vantage point to watch them. Not creepy at all, you thought with a twisted grin. There was something ethereal about Solivan under the open sky, the sunlight catching on the green streaks in his hair and making his mismatched eyes gleam like fire and blood. He’s so pretty, you sighed internally. Every movement, every glance felt deliberate and perfect, like he was crafted by your own imagination.

Hyugo, the blue-haired “parent” of the duo, was Sol’s grounding force. You watched as he subtly steered Sol’s chaotic thoughts back to reality, his calm voice carrying through the breeze. Sometimes, their conversations drifted your way. One particular exchange made your heart race.

“Have you been taking your sleeping pills, Sol?” Hyugo asked, his tone laced with concern.

Sol nodded, but you knew better. Oh, sweetheart, you’re feeding them to me instead, you thought, biting back a giggle. The very idea thrilled you. He’s lying to his best friend for me—just like I’d lie for him. We’re so alike, Sol. Matchy-matchy. You giggled softly to yourself, clutching your bag as though it held every secret you’d gathered about him.

The rooftop had become your sacred ground. Each day, you made sure to get there first, blending into the background as best you could while Sol and Hyugo came to unwind. It was their haven, where Sol could escape the cafeteria—his disdain for the crowded, noisy space evident in every eye roll and sharp comment he made about it.

You hid yourself carefully, peering around corners or crouching behind vents as the duo talked. It wasn’t hard to piece together their dynamic: Hyugo, the loud and teasing one, always nudging Sol toward some semblance of normalcy, and Sol, the quiet, brooding artist, who seemed eternally annoyed yet tethered to his friend’s chaotic energy.

“Sunny boy, I swear, one day you’re going to crack from all this stalking,” Hyugo teased, leaning against the edge of the rooftop railing. His blue hair caught the sunlight, but your eyes were locked on Sol.

“I’m not stalking anyone,” Sol muttered, his voice as flat and disinterested as ever. He didn’t look up from his sketchbook, where his pencil moved in quick, fluid strokes.

“Uh-huh. And I’m the Pope. Come on, Sunny, you’re practically vibrating whenever Y/N’s around. It’s cute, actually.”

Sol shot him a glare so sharp it could cut glass. “I don’t vibrate.”

“Sure, sure,” Hyugo said with a grin, leaning closer to peek at the sketchbook. “Hey, is that—oh my God, are you drawing them again? Sunny, you’re obsessed!”

“Shut up, Hyugo,” Sol snapped, snapping the book shut with a satisfying thud. A faint flush dusted his cheeks, and you almost swooned at the sight.

Through your relentless watching, you pieced together more and more about Sol’s world. He liked plushies—tiny glimpses of them in his bag or on his desk betrayed a softness he tried to hide. Horses fascinated him, though you’d never seen him near one. The ocean, however, was an object of pure hatred. Even the thought of it seemed to unsettle him. And his neck—oh, how he hated when people noticed it. You didn’t know why, but the way he’d pull his collar up or hide behind his scarf whenever someone’s gaze lingered too long sent shivers of fascination down your spine.

Crowe, though? Sol hated Crowe. Why? You weren’t sure. Did Sol think you liked Crowe? That thought made you laugh—a loud, manic sound that echoed in your mind. No, silly Sol. Crowe’s just a friend. You’re the only one who matters. You giggled to yourself, making a mental note to friendzone Crowe at the next opportunity. No one has to die, right?

Your stalking wasn’t all selfish indulgence, though. You made it your mission to protect Sol from his bullies in secret. Every time someone dared to mess with him, you found ways to make their lives miserable. Pranks, carefully crafted rumors, even well-placed traps—it was your way of showing love, even if he’d never know it was you.

You couldn't stop yourself, could you? Each time your mind drifted back to Sol, it felt like you were drowning in an ocean of thoughts you couldn’t escape. There was no rational explanation for it, just a need, a yearning to see him, to be close to him. You didn’t know why you liked Sol, and the more you thought about it, the more you felt like something inside you was broken. Messy. Rotten. Ugly. Stupid. The words echoed in your mind like a relentless drumbeat, each one sinking deeper into your consciousness.

But you couldn’t stop. Why couldn’t you stop?

Maybe you were just messed up—maybe this was just who you were now. The idea of obsession wasn’t new to you, but this? This feeling for Sol was different. You were feeding into his own obsession, subtly manipulating his thoughts and actions, just as he unknowingly tugged on your every string. I’m a fucking mess, you thought, crumpling the pages of your journal before tossing it aside. I’m messed up for liking him. I shouldn’t be doing this. Why do I care so much?

Yet, as you thought about it, a darker voice inside your head whispered: But you don’t care. You just want him. You want to keep him. Don’t you?

You looked at your reflection in the glass, disgust rising up in your throat. The self-loathing was overwhelming. You wanted to leave. Run away. Escape from this sick obsession gnawing at you, but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. What would I even do without him? you thought, the sick realization that he was the only thing that made sense in your otherwise chaotic world.

And then your gaze shifted. Your scrapbook—your treasure trove of Sol. You’d been filling it for weeks, months, maybe. Pictures of him, scribbled notes, little drawings of his face, and the countless things you learned about him. Things you knew he would never notice, things that were yours and yours alone. You smiled, a dark, twisted grin spreading across your face as you flipped through the pages, relishing in the thought that no one else had this.

You reached for your favorite pen, the one that always felt so good in your hand, and began writing. The words flowed out like a twisted confession, something that felt raw and vulnerable, but at the same time, empowering. You wrote:

O, thou shadowed soul whose crimson eyes do stare, Through twilight’s veil, seeking me with ceaseless care. How I know thy step, thy breath, thy tender scheme, The hunter’s heart, woven deep within this dream.

I, Annabel, with whispers darkly sweet, Stand here entranced, ready for the cruel heat, Of trial and gaze, a feverish, whispered jest, To test thy fervor, O stalker, my unrest.

Art thou true, or doth the mask crack wide, When confronted with love that seeks to chide? O Sol, thou art regal, a lost marquis, A figure grander than court's rich pleas.

Why dost thou flinch at this jeweled yoke, Collared like Marie Antoinette, when spoke Of necks adorned in fate’s decree, Tell me, pretty man, dost thou flee or plea?

Yet, I love thee, this strange, begotten chase, A danse macabre within thy haunted embrace. O, prove thyself, meet the midnight’s dare, For ‘tis love I hold, should thy soul lay bare.

His Annabel...

You laughed quietly to yourself, the sound almost hollow. Oh god, this is so cringy, you thought. The poetry, the confession—it was ridiculous. But it’s what I feel, isn't it?

You paused, looking at the mess of words you had written, and smiled. It’s okay. I don’t care. You couldn’t help but smile. I’m not normal. I’m not like everyone else. But Sol... Sol gets it, doesn’t he?

The laugh bubbled up again, darker this time, a little more manic. You hugged the scrapbook to your chest, clutching it tightly as though it were a lifeline. The obsession that had once felt foreign was now becoming a part of you, weaving itself into your identity like the very air you breathed.

You were hopeless. But, in a twisted way, you were happy. Because in this world of chaos, Sol was your constant. The only one who could save you.

And so you wrote more. “Fix me, Sol. Fix me, and I’ll love you forever.”

You looked at the words..

Everything was perfect until!

THUD!

Geo had always been a bit of a mystery to everyone, even to those who were close to Crowe. His tall, imposing presence, the sharp eyes that seemed to look straight through you, and his effortless grace with a weapon made him someone no one dared cross. He wasn't known for being sociable or for revealing much about himself, and despite his wealth, people respected his silence more than they feared his power.

But now, you had been caught.

The way he stood in front of you, arms crossed with that knowing, intimidating gaze locked on you—shit. You hadn't expected anyone to figure it out. You thought you'd covered your tracks well enough, staying in the shadows, sneaking around just before the rooftop sessions, watching Sol and Hyugo like an obsessive, lovesick ghost. But now, Geo—Geo—was standing in front of you, calling you out.

You forced a smile, a casual, almost innocent grin. "Why do you care?" You giggled, trying to make light of the situation, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you. The amusement didn't reach your eyes. He knows, doesn't he?

Geo raised an eyebrow, his aquamarine eyes never leaving yours, sharp and assessing. His posture was relaxed, but the air around him crackled with the intensity of someone who didn’t need to do much to make people feel uncomfortable. "Stalking people isn't exactly a good look," he said, his voice low and steady. "Especially not those close to Crowe." His eyes flickered briefly to your hands, as if he knew you were clutching something—your scrapbook, maybe, the evidence of your obsession. Shit.

You scoffed, trying to push down the anxiety creeping up your spine. "Oh, come on. I’m just… observing." You laughed, as though it were a joke, hoping that Geo would take it lightly. But you knew he wouldn’t. Geo wasn’t someone who took anything lightly.

"You think I'm stupid?" Geo's tone hardened, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He stepped forward, the movement smooth and deliberate, closing the distance between you. "I know you’re not just observing. You’re obsessing, and you’re messing with them. Do you think I don't notice? Do you think you’re the only one who sees things?" His words were like daggers, each one hitting harder than the last.

The room felt smaller now, as if the walls were closing in on you. Your heart raced, a mix of fear and excitement. He was onto you. But did he know the extent of it? Did he know you weren’t just watching from afar? Did he understand how deep this fixation went?

Geo's expression shifted, growing more serious. "You’re playing a dangerous game, you know." He stepped even closer, his face inches from yours. "And I don’t like people who play games with people I care about. So, if you have something on them�� or if you think you can manipulate them into something they don't want… I’d suggest you think twice."

You swallowed hard, your mind spinning. The image of Sol, of Hyugo, both so wrapped up in their own worlds, their quiet, innocent lives. You didn't want to hurt them, not really. But the obsession—the way Sol's face haunted your thoughts, how he was everything you wanted and more—it made your decisions blur. It made you do things you didn’t even fully understand.

Geo seemed to sense the shift in your demeanor. "Look," he said, a trace of pity in his voice now, "I don’t want to make things difficult. I just want to make sure you understand the consequences of your actions." His eyes bored into yours, almost reading your thoughts. "Whatever it is you think you're doing with them… just stop. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt."

The way he looked at you now, with a strange mix of concern and cold detachment, made you feel small, exposed. You weren’t used to this. You weren’t used to being vulnerable. He knows. He knows everything.

You bit your lip, trying to keep your composure. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," you whispered, but it was clear Geo didn’t believe you.

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing a little. "You’re lucky I don’t want to make this worse. Just… stay away from them, okay?" His voice softened just a fraction. "You don’t want to mess with someone like Sol. And you definitely don’t want to get on Hyugo’s bad side. Trust me and mess with him, you will see me."

Geo took a step back, eyes still on you, as if waiting for your response. You didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything you could say. He’s right, isn’t he?

Geo turned and walked away, you felt your chest tighten.

You watch Geo from a distance, your heart pounding with excitement and a dash of madness. It wasn’t enough to just observe them anymore. No, you needed more.

With a quick step, you approach Geo, your grin growing wider. His dark eyes flicker with annoyance, and he halts, looking over at you as if you're a pest he wishes would just disappear. The tension is thick, and you're only getting more thrilled by it. You call out his full name, “Subaru Oogami,” knowing the effect it would have.

He stops. His expression hardens, and you can almost feel the wave of annoyance radiating off him. “What do you want?” he spits, his voice low, almost like a growl. It’s a response you expected. A warning, a challenge. You savor it.

“Isn’t Hyugo Sugimoto your older brother?” you ask, a playful note lacing your voice. The words are casual, but your eyes glint with mischief. His gaze sharpens even more. You can see the tension rising in his posture.

You giggle, unable to hide the amusement. "Such a bad boy, Subaru, ignoring your own brother like that. It’s so embarrassing, though... all that emo energy for what?" The words spill out of you in a rush, the laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. You know it’s getting under his skin. You can tell by the tightening of his jaw, the slight twitch of his hands.

You step closer, your eyes glinting with something dangerous, something predatory. “You know, I’ve gotten a lot of info from watching you and your brother... but don’t worry. I’m not interested in Hyugo,” you say, voice low and smooth, almost a whisper. You lean in just a bit, the space between you two narrowing. “But... I am interested in Sol.”

His glare feels like it could slice through steel, but you hold his stare, smiling evilly. His eyes narrow into daggers, but you don't flinch. No one gets in your way. Not anymore.

“Don’t disturb me, and I won’t be after your ass, Subaru,” you say, your voice sweet but laced with the cold bite of a threat.

He looks at you, eyes flashing with fury. There’s a moment of silence where he contemplates your words, the weight of your threat hanging between you two. He looks ready to strike, to put you in your place, but he simply lets out a harsh “tch” and shakes his head.

“You keep quiet, stay out of trouble with me or Hyugo, and we won’t have a problem,” he says, his voice sharp, his glare never leaving you.

You tilt your head, a sly smile still tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Promises,” you murmur, watching as he turns, clearly done with the conversation. You let out a quiet laugh as you watch him walk away, knowing that you’ve made your point.

Geo, Subaru Oogami—whatever you call him—wouldn’t be such a threat anymore.

He left, looking that same death glare at you smiled like a angel who did nothing wrong!

Part 1 over! Pls tell me if I should make part 2...

#the kid at the back vn #tkatb #tkatb sol #visual novel #The kid at the back x reader #solivan brugmansia #solivan x reader #the kid at the back sol #tkatb x reader #tkatb crowe #tkatb vn #solvian x reader #sol x reader #Solivan Brugmansia x reader #Tkatb x reader #tkatb brittney

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mieluscious · 1 year ago

Text

little nerd. satoguru

ෆ pairings : gojo x female reader x geto

ෆ genre : smut, pwp

ෆ word count : 2k8

ෆ miel's note : part 2

ෆ warnings : mdni. meandom!gojo, nerd!reader, brat tamer!geto, voyeurism, public sex, exhibitionism, hate sex (between you and geto), oral (f. received), reader is a brat for geto, squirting, slight degradation, slight dumbification, cockwarming, hair pulling, pussy slapping, face grabbing, spit play, geto secretly loves the fact that you hate him, they're both bullies, gojo uses a lot of cute petnames (princess, baby, pretty), they love to hear you moan . . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

"w-wait toru. they could see us-" you didn't even have time to finish your sentence when gojo lifted your skirt, pulled your panties on one side and pushed his cock into your greedy pussy making you threw your head back against his shoulder. you had spent your day studying at the library before your boyfriend decided to join you. at first he had come to ask you if you wanted to eat with him and when you told him to wait because you couldn't stop studying at the moment he sat down next to you until he decided to grab you by the hips and sit you on his dick.

"princess." he grabbed tightly both of your thighs and tugged at your stockings to slap them on your soft skin, making you arch your back against his muscular torso. his lips was against the back of your neck, kissing and biting it slowly. "i wanted to eat and you dare kept me waiting. now you have to keep me busy until you finish, otherwise i might fall asleep, do you understand?" he placed one hand on your stomach and the other on your hip to lift you up with him and sit more comfortably in the seat beneath the two of you, when he sat back down a moan immediately came out from between your lips as you felt his cock hit right against your g-spot. you grabbed his hand, which was still on your stomach, and moved your hips slightly against his cock, wanting to feel it a little more against your sensitive spot. you heard him groan against your ear, he slapped the inside of your thighs near your pussy. "behave." he grabbed your face tightly making you gasp. "you know i won't be ashamed to fuck you in front of all these people so don't test me. be pretty and sit nicely on my dick. don't you dare to move y/n." you nodded and apologised while you tried to get back to work.

it's been a few minutes now and gojo was on his phone probably texting fucking geto (you hated him) you felt a bit of jealousy but decided to ignore it. gojo was finally letting you study and you didn't want to waste your time but his fat cock was still inside of you and you were really needy to move your hips so it was difficult for you to think straight sometimes. you were trying to solve a math problem when gojo started laughing because of something he saw on his phone, his laugh made his whole body vibrate and bounce you gently on his cock you dropped your pen and leaned back on the table, your mouth opened to let out a silent moan. you looked up to see that some people were getting up to leave the library, leaving just the two of you and 3 other people.

you turned your bust slightly towards gojo and gently grabbed the jacket of his uniform. you needed to hold on to him because of the delicious feeling of his cock deep inside of you could make you fall off the chair at any moment. "toru we should stop i can't study like this and people are there fuck-" he looked into your eyes without any emotion and slowly began to move his hips against yours, making his cock rub between your walls. you tightened your grip on his jacket, a small mewl escaped your lips and you tilted your head to the side without taking your eyes off him.

"it's cute when you think you are in charge in this relationship" he put his phone on the desk and grabbed your hair, arching your back against his chest. "my little princess deserves a punishment" he slipped his free hand under your shirt, touching your bra with his fingertips. the warmth of his hands made you unconsciously press your pussy against his cock, he caught the skin of your shoulder between his teeth to muffle his sudden moan. you gasped and sighed an apology but it wasn't enough for gojo who slapped your pussy roughly. you brought your hand up to your mouth and bit down on your fist to keep yourself from screaming across the library. "i warned you." he withdrew his hand from under your top and reached for his phone, he quickly typed something and threw it back on the desk before grabbing your hips and started slow movements with his hips making you bounce on his cock slightly but enough for you to mewl loudly and arch your back against his chest, firmly grasping the arms of the chair beneath you. you tried to meet his thrusts, fucking him back.

your head jerked back against his shoulder as you felt gojo grab the underside of your thigh opening you up a little more. you could now hear the erotic sounds of your lovemaking, making you blush, you squealed when you heard him laugh deeply against your ear. "cute" he pulled his cock out of your pussy and pushed it brutally back into your hole, touching your g-spot. this time you moaned loud enough to meet the gaze of a girl studying right in front of you, a pretty girl with almond eyes and golden hair. "mhmh princess..i felt your pussy tighten, do you like this girl's eyes on you?" you caught your lip between your teeth when you felt your tits being grabbed by gojo's big hands "let's give her a show then". gojo's expert hands pinched your nipples and played with them, making them hard. your mouth was half opened letting out little moans that startled the girl who still had her beautiful eyes on you, you noticed that she was swallowing with difficulty when her gaze dropped on gojo's hands kneading your breasts. she squeezed her thighs and you noticed her buds hardening under her little lace top, gojo noticed this too, as he let out a mocking laugh. "you're so pretty. look. even girls want to have a taste." gojo's laugh made the girl blush with embarrassment as she gathered her things and ran out of the library, leaving just the two of you and a few other people who still hadn't noticed you.

"wow satoru you made her leave. you're so mean." you tensed at the sound of his voice, you turned your head slowly behind you and discovered geto walking nonchalantly towards you and gojo who’s smiling mischievously as he saw your face distorted by anger and incomprehension. geto looked at you and smiled in the same way as gojo, his head tilted to one side. “what’s wrong y/n? you’re not happy to see me?”

“you know she hates you suguru.” gojo wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the back of your neck, hugging you from behind. “she’s a jealous little baby” he rolled your hips against him making you moan again, geto lowered his gaze to your breasts, which jiggled as you arched your back against gojo's chest.

“y/n you’re so mean to me” you couldn't take your eyes off him and geto could see in your eyes that you didn't like him and that you didn't want him here at all when you were literally sitting on your boyfriend's dick. geto, who was behind gojo, walked until he was in front of you, resting his lower back against the desk. “you have such a pretty girlfriend satoru, im jealous” you could feel gojo chuckling as he bit the back of your neck.

“right? i wanted you to see how cute she is when she’s full of my cock” and you realized that geto was there simply because gojo had sent him a message when you were in a weak position earlier. you grabbed the arms of the chair firmly and glared at geto, who was getting more and more annoying by the nonchalant way he was looking down at you, and although you loved your boyfriend you couldn't help being angry at him for calling his best friend, the one you hated the most in this fucking school. your mouth opened in a perfect O as you felt gojo move you over his cock a lil bit faster until you were bouncing up and down on it making you almost fall on the desk before geto caught you to push you with two fingers against gojo's chest. you drew your knee up to your chest, trying to steady your foot on the chair under the calculating gaze of geto, who couldn't take his eyes off your skirt, which rose with each thrust of gojo's hips, revealing your cotton panties with a little bow on it. cute.

“d-don’t look” you whispered, and geto's eyes looked back into yours. your chest rose and fell rapidly, making your tits jiggle. geto slowly approached you and placed his hand right next to yours on the arm of the chair, the sudden closeness made you sink deeper against gojo's torso who started liking the inside of your ear making you moan and close one eye in surprise. the way you arched your back in pleasure against gojo and the brutality of his hip thrusts made you brush the tips of your tits against geto's chest, who smiled wider and wider at the effect it had on you. he caught your chin with his free hand and brushed his lips against yours. his eyes never leaving yours.

“why do you hate me so much little nerd?” he pressed his thumb against your chin, tilting your head back slightly. “answer me, i want you to say it.”

“i h-hate you because toru always talk about you, it’s always about you” gojo slowed the rhythm of his hips, he chuckled and pressed his face against your neck, watching geto out of the corner of his eye. he slid his hands down your inner thighs, grasping them firmly. “i fucking hate you, you and your fucking annoying face” geto let go of your chin and put his hand on the other arm of the chair, imprisoning you with his body. his face didn't move, looking down at you coldly.

“open your mouth.” gojo's fingers pinched the soft skin of your thighs, silently ordering you to listen to geto, you gasped as you placed a hand on gojo's thigh. you brought your attention back to geto, with eyes filled with hatred you whispered a silent "fuck you" before opening your mouth. an evil smile stretched geto's lips.

“what a good girl.” he formed a glob of spit in his mouth before spitting it right between your lips. you swallowed without taking your eyes off him, doing your best not to show him that you liked it, but when you heard gojo chuckling behind you, you already knew your efforts were wasted. fuck him.

“what was that baby? i felt your pussy clenching around me so tight i thought you were going to rip it off” gojo grabbed your hair firmly and pulled your head back making you squeal with pain. he pressed his lips against your ear so only you could hear him. “you hate him but deep down you'd like him to fuck you in front of me, right?” he inserts two fingers into your mouth, turning your face back to geto, who doesn't miss a beat with a smirk on his lips.

you moaned louder and louder as you felt gojo bounce you wildly on his cock. now you were sure everyone in the library had noticed what you were doing behind them, with you bouncing on gojo's lap and geto standing between your legs. it was clear you were fucking in the back of the library. at this thought you felt your cheeks flush you could feel other people's eyes on you but knowing that geto and gojo didn't give a damn about manhandling you in front of everyone excited you even more against your will. you turned your attention back to geto who couldn't take his eyes off your breasts which were jiggling in all directions because of gojo who was fucking you with inhuman speed, you arched your back moaning louder when you saw his finger going for one of the buttons on your shirt. he unbuttoned the first one and brought his eyes up to yours, you wanted to squeeze your thighs under his burning, dark gaze, trying to put pressure on your clit, when he caught your knee in mid-air with his other hand, brutally spreading your thighs to reveal your pussy being bullied brutally by gojo's cock. your skirt was now pulled up over your hips and geto couldn't help but find you adorable at this moment. your half-opened eyes never left his, your face was all red with embarrassment and the way the moans came out almost shyly from between your luscious pink lips made his cock even harder. he brought his face even closer to yours, your nose pressing against his.

“satoru tell your girl to stop looking at me like that” he unbuttoned another button of your shirt, revealing your pretty breasts in your lace bra. he smiled as you panted against his lips. “i'll end up thinking she wants me to teach her how to love me” you caught your lip between your teeth under his burning gaze. so pretty.

“you should teach her then. do it.” gojo grabbed each side of your shirt and tugged, popping the last buttons and revealing your half-naked chest to geto, who grabbed your hips and helped you bounce on gojo's cock making him moan against your ear behind you. geto moved his hands up to your breasts, pressing his two thumbs against each of your hard buds under your bras, making you grab the sleeve of geto's jacket with one hand and squeal with pleasure.

“s-suguru-” they both froze for a moment, it was the first time you'd ever called geto by his first name, usually you just said geto in a cold way and this was the first time they'd ever heard you call him suguru. especially this time when you were moaning so erotically and seeing you moan his first name like that drove him fucking crazy. he grabbed the back of the chair behind gojo and presses his forehead to yours as his hand slides quickly between your legs, catching your clit between his fingers and making you cry out in surprise. his dark eyes pierced yours, which were now filled with tiny tears. “say it again.” you tried to say his name again, but the way gojo ferociously pushed his cock against your g-spot at each thrusts almost made you roll your eyes back in your head. geto shook your clit between his two fingers quickly, he grabbed your jaw with his other hand and pressed your cheeks firmly, making you open your mouth even wider. he took the opportunity to spit 3 times in your mouth, making gojo grunt against the back of your neck at the sensation of your pussy tightening around him. “are you enjoying your lesson y/n? are you learning anything?. fuck she’s so fucking pretty satoru” you arched your back immediatly as you felt gojo grab your hips to lift his knee and rest his foot on the chair fucking you even more deeply like an animal, you bounced so hard on his cock that you wondered how the chair didn't break.

“s-suguru-y-yess..ahh-” you tried to catch your breath but it was almost impossible to speak when you had two men sandwiching you and manhandling you in front of other students. “t-toru..i-im gonna-..im gonna cum-”.

“yeah? my princess wants to cum? fuck. then cum on suguru’s face baby.” geto grabbed your throat and knelt down to suck your clit between his pretty lips and it was when you felt gojo grab your panties to rip them that you closed your eyes and squirted all over geto's face, screaming their names until your throat broke. gojo moaned loudly while he finally squirted in your pussy, which was now dripping with both your seeds.

you opened your eyes again to see geto's soaked face with a broad smile on it. he straightened up and rested both of his hands on the arms of the chair. you turned around and wrapped your arms around gojo’s neck hugging him and smelling his hair. “ i still fucking hate him.” he smiled at geto and tenderly stroked your head while geto pinched your bare ass.

“i’ll teach you, pretty, don’t worry.”

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ningvory · 8 months ago

Text

payment methods — ning yizhuo

CW: noncon, landlord gp!ning, reader has a boyfriend but ning doesn’t care, darcyphilia, power imbalance, creampie, cumming inside, squirting, ning has a thing for pretty girls, crybaby reader, ning’s lowk a perv and she REALLY hates readers bf, lowk yandere vibes from ning, tummy buldge, breeding kink, nipple play

word count: 839 words

anon ask? yes!

this is very noncon so pleaseeeee read with caution!!

ningning knows this is wrong, she’s a business woman and she should really evict you and your bitchass boyfriend from your apartment. it’s been multiple time that your rent payment had been late.

even her friend, karina warns her that her weakness for pretty girls would soon get her in serious trouble. but she honestly can’t help herself! the way you plead to her with tears threatening to fall, telling her to give you a few more days and that you promise you’ll pay the rent, while wearing shorts that are far too short. she can’t help but think about ways to corrupt you.

so, here she is infront of your apartment door once more, waiting for you to open the door.

once you open it, your eyes almsot automatically begin tearing up and mouth opening to speak but she beats you to it, “y’know, there’s other ways you can pay me,” she says. eyes dark and slowly walking closer to you.

you don’t understand what she means by that so you just look at her shockingly, “really? i-ill do anything i swear!” you babble out. you’re so naive it has her chuckling.

too innocent that you let her lock your door and she’s immediately pouncing on you, pushing you to the wall and pinning you there while grinding her already hardened cock into your ass.

“w-wait—i didn’t mean this!” you sob, desperately trying to free yourself from her grip but that does nothing but push your ass into her even more.

“i’m being nice and offering you another option, take it.” she mutters, making whimpers fall from your mouth.

your lips began to quiver and you let your tears ruin your face when you felt her hands slide up under your oversized shirt to grope your tits.

“no bra? tch, you’re basically asking for someone to fuck you, pretty.” she mutters, before diving in the crook of your neck to suck your neck.

she began to suck on your neck, taking a deep breath of your scent before moaning. she ran her hand under your shirt to grope at your tits. squeezing them before pinching your nipples, making you whimper at the stinging pain.

“n-ning—it—hurts,” you whine out between sniffles wanting her to stop tormenting your tits.

“oh don’t cry, baby, it’ll be over quicker if you cooperate.” she slides her hand down to remove your shorts and panties and unbuttoning her pants before removing her boxers, revealing her hardened cock leaking with precum.

you let out a unintended gasp when she pulls your hips back to meet her cock, pushing into your tight cunt with a whimper from the tightness.

“w-wait—stop! d-don’t wan’ it.” you cry and try to run away from the feeling of her cock bullying her way inside you.

but oh, ning doesn’t care what you want, she’s gripping onto your waist to hold you in place before pounding deliberately into you.

“you d-dont wan’ it? so whys your cunt squeezing me so well then?” her words are a bit slurred and she’s struggling to keep her pace.

“n-no! i’m-i’m serious! a-and what—if—what if he comes back?” you ask her, referring to your boyfriend. you try and put up a fight that you know you’ll loose, you’re trying to twist and squirm your way free but to no avail, causing her to growl in your ear, “fuck—him, he doesn’t—fuck!—deserve you anyways. you’re fucking mine. g’na mark you up so everyone can see who you—fucking belong to,” her mind is hazy and she’s struggling to make a full coherent sentence. nothing but the thought of breeding you in her mind.

she’s fucking into you wildly, chanting, ‘you’re mine, g’na fill you up’ repeatedly making you moan and drool all over yourself at the feeling of her big dick pumping into you.

her saying how she’s gonna fill you up with her cum as your cunt squirting all over her and the floor. but she continues to fuck you through it.

“please don’t come inside,” you protest, but your cunt is saying the opposite, your dripping cunny is suffocating her cock, making her whine and pump into you quicker and sloppier. she moans one last time before pushing her cock all the way in and holding your hips in place. thick ropes of her warm cum start spilling into your cunt.

the overstimulation and her cum painting your insides white causes your body to shake. you think it’s over when she pulls out a little but she starts her abuse on your cum filled cunny once more. you choke back a moan, “n-no—” you cry from the sensation, her cum began to leak out a little from her pumping herself once more into your cunt.

“sorry pretty.” she coo’s before pressing down on your tummy bulge, “gotta make sure nothing goes to waste,” she adds on. you’re too far gone to even realize what she’s saying so you dumbly nod at her words, letting her use your weak body as she pleases.

#♡.ningning #♡.aespa #♡.nabi’s asks #wlw smut #g!p #aespa smut #aespa x fem reader #ningning x fem reader #aespa ningning smut #ningning smut #aespa ningning #aespa x reader #kpop smut

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avis-writeshq · 1 year ago

Text

04 — you are in love

summary: “you can hear it in the silence.”/”you can hear it on the way home.”/”you can see it with the lights out.” in other words; the four times spencer wants to kiss you, and the one time he wishes he did. pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn, warnings: drug mention, alcohol (reader gets a little tipsy), vomit (not in detail) wc: 3.4k a/n: thank you again to the wonderful amazing @astrophileous for beta-reading MWAH zara you're a real one <3 SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

Falling in love is something that Spencer thought he would never get the luxury of doing. It’s a fairytale. After all, his parents were supposed to be a perfect example of what love should be like and look how they ended up. Yet despite it all, he always seems to find himself going back to you. You, who makes it so easy to love but he doesn’t deserve it. He refuses to believe he deserves it. He feels so horribly broken that it doesn’t make sense why you would love him, or why he deserves to love you.

It takes Spencer another three months to actually properly come to terms with the fact that he’s in love with you. He’s spent most of his free time attending Narcotic Anonymous groups upon your insistence and he hates to admit that it helps. He didn’t think they would at first, despite the swirling statistics of their effectiveness but he figures that it wouldn’t hurt. The other times when he’s not doing something drug related, therapy related or work related, he’s with you. Your apartment is almost like a second home to him and you’d given him your spare key (he went home with a ridiculous grin on his face and had to chug several cups of water to calm himself down).

Since your leaving the BAU, he’s left a series of trinkets on his desk that remind him of you. A little ceramic blue bird beside the animal skull models. It’s no bigger than his pinky finger and when he asked you why you gifted it to him, you told him that it represents hope and renewal. He thinks he needs a lot of that.

In the first drawer of his desk is a framed picture of you and him at a Doctor Who convention with him dressed up as the Tenth Doctor and you in all blue in an attempt to dress up as TARDIS. It was a fun and silly day but it was enjoyable and that was what mattered. After a series of unfortunate events, Derek happened across the photo, claiming that there was no platonic explanation for it.

(“Care to explain this?” He had asked, holding the frame with a grin on his face. He was looking into Spencer’s desk for a specific file on the Benson murders, only to be met with a very familiar face.

Spencer immediately lunged for the photograph, grabbing it and securing it back in his desk with a heavy slam. “Don’t.”

Derek put his hands up in mock surrender, although his eyes were sympathetic. “There’s nothing platonic about that, kid.”

He huffed in response, rubbing at his eyes and taking a seat at his desk. “I know.”)

The first time he came to terms with the fact that he actually wanted to be with you was after a specific realisation. Some cases are harder than others. It’s a given; some cases are just more difficult to deal with and therefore harder to compartmentalise. Each person is different, especially when you factor in trauma. Derek struggles when pedophilia is involved, and JJ finds suicide cases the worst. Hotch can barely function properly when children are targeted, and Emily hides behind a mask so effortlessly that the most mundane things can get to her. After a period of thought, Spencer realises what he struggles to deal with: bullying.

“You should have– you should have heard what they were saying!” Spencer insists, pacing his living room floor while throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

He had just returned home from a case in West Bune, Texas, and it was probably one of the most difficult cases he had to go through. The UnSub was a teenager named Owen and after a very tense confrontation with him outside the police department, he was taken into custody. The entire nature of the case irked him. So many deaths could have been prevented if people just did something but now a boy is in custody with a body count nearing the double digits.

“They didn’t even try to deal with the bullying,” he continues, running his fingers through his now long hair. He can’t bring himself to get it cut; especially not after the incident with Hankel some moons ago.

You don’t say anything, sitting on his couch and sipping your tea, your eyes trained on the way he paces back and forth.

“People are dead because of them. I’m not saying that they didn’t deserve it because they did, but something should have changed.” His words are harsh as he continues to walk, clenching and unclenching his hands.

“You can’t change anything about it now,” You say gently, your gaze shifting from his hands to his arms to his face. “What’s done is done. All we can do is hope that the school board learns from their mistakes.”

“But they don’t!” He exclaims, turning to face you. He swallows thickly before sighing, slumping into the seat beside you and pressing himself into his side. “It’s just so… frustrating. They never learn.”

You nod, running your fingers through the knots in his hair. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“That could have been me,” he says quietly, burying his face into the palms of his hands. He presses the pads of his fingers into the corners of his eyes, stars dotting his vision.

“But it’s not,” you say firmly. “You’re a good person, Spencer. You’re saving people and putting the bad guys away. That’s a far cry away from being an UnSub.”

You’re looking at him now and he tilts his head to meet your gaze. You’re so close to him and Spencer can hear his heart pounding in his ears.

Kiss her.

The words that enter Spencer’s mind are enough to give him whiplash and he pulls away, pretending that he doesn’t see the hurt in your eyes when he does.

What?

“Are you okay?” You ask, frowning up at him.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. He offers a smile. “I’m okay.”

***

“Emily doesn’t blame you, you know.”

The words hang in the air as you sit on the floor of your bedroom, the thundering storm pounding against your windows. Spencer shrugs, sitting next to you. The power is out across Washington and the flickering of candles helps to light up the room. Spencer fiddles with the rug on the floor and your brows knit together.

“Walter.”

“I know.” He buries his face in his hands and lets out a groan. “I know, I know. It’s not my fault. It just feels like it, you know? We knew that it was a cult but we didn’t know that it was… that bad. God, angel, you should have seen her. She was beat up and everything and it feels like I could have done something.”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” you chastise, brushing your shoulder against his for a moment. “You really need to take better care of yourself.”

He doesn’t respond, simply moving so that he’s lying down on the rug in your room. It’s a soft tufted rug that goes from a dark purple in the middle to white around the edges. It’s one of his favourite rugs in the world. You’re sitting cross legged beside him, leaning against the bed. The soft glow of the candles illuminate your face and you truly look like an angel in this light.

He just came back from a case in La Plata County in Colorado and he was ordered to take a week off by Hotch to deal with the traumatics of the case. What started out as an undercover investigation in an underground cult led to a gun fight and a bombing, all while Spencer and Emily were inside the compound. The way Emily looked so in pain after the whole ordeal would haunt him forever; the black eye she suffered from, the bruising to her chest… he doesn’t even want to think about the rest of the things that could have happened.

“Stop.”

Your voice pulls him from his thoughts and he sucks in a breath.

“I didn’t do anything,” he says meekly, playing with the rug underneath him.

“It’s not your fault.” You smile at him before hitting him lightly with one of your pillows. “Stop that.”

He laughs loudly, grunting a little from the impact of the pillow colliding with his face. “Hey!”

You grin teasingly and hit him again with the pillow. He retaliates quickly, gripping the pillow and trying to tug it out of your hands. Your grip is a lot stronger than he thought it was and his tug sends you flying towards him, a shriek leaving your lips as your forehead bounces off his.

A hiss of pain leaves your lips but you’re laughing as you clutch your forehead. “Spencer what the hell?!”

“I’m sorry!” He says, not really meaning it, and rubbing at his head. He’s laughing along, his cheeks warm as he smiles up at you. His hands move to your face, one to your cheek and the other to brush the hair on your forehead to the side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You laugh again, smiling a brilliantly beautiful toothy smile. The candlelight dances in your eyes with a warm orange light as you do. “Are you?”

His gaze meets yours, watching the way you brush a strand of hair behind your ear and the way your eyes crinkles when you smile. He watches the way you lean against the side of the bed, tilting your head back with your eyes closed. God. He swears you’re trying to kill him.

“Spencer?” You ask with a soft chuckle, and the sound is so pretty that he doesn’t mind the fact that you find amusement at his expense. “Are you okay?”

He nods, his throat dry and his cheeks hot. He blames the candles.

***

The couch is never comfortable. You are well aware that the couch feels strangely lumpy and you’re pretty sure one of the springs is broken but for some reason you keep insisting to take it whenever you stay at Spencer’s apartment. The blanket he lets you use is thick and cosy to make up for it and the pillow is always fluffed.

“Good morning.”

Spencer’s voice is raspy with early morning vocal fry and it makes your heart lurch in your throat.

“Morning,” you murmur, eyes still closed in an attempt to calm yourself down. Maybe if you don’t see him you won’t embarrass yourself.

“Still tired?” He asks, and you hear him start the coffee machine. There’s the sound of rustling in the background along with the flicking of a switch. Too many sounds for too early of a day.

“Mm.”

He chuckles, deep and rumbling, before sipping some water. “Yesterday was fun.”

Yesterday involved fourteen hours of watching Doctor Who and passing half way through the nineteenth episode after stuffing yourself full of junk food. Yesterday involved passing out on Spencer, forcing him to move you to the couch and into a position that wasn’t going to destroy your neck. Yesterday involved the most platonic and innocent activities known to Earth, despite the way his words insinuated something entirely differently.

“You fell asleep before the best part,” he says, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“You could have watched without me.”

He shakes his head as he stirs the sugar. “That wouldn’t have been right.”

A hum leaves your lips as you get up from the couch, stretching your arms and making your way over to him from behind the kitchen island. You’re wearing one of his old Doctor Who t-shirts that he let you keep, the sleeves reaching just past your elbows. Your hair is a mess and your eyes are half closed but you look so…

Cute. Seeing you in his shirt drives him wild. There’s something possessive about it and for a second he feels gross. He feels like he’s taking advantage of you but he’s obviously not; you’re the one who stole that shirt from him many moons ago and you’re the one who chose to wear it that day. Regardless, he can’t help but be transfixed as you walk around his kitchen like it’s your own home. Spencer’s eyes follow your figure as you pull open one of his cupboards and grab your mug (a really stupid avocado mug that’s bright green with a lid) before pouring some coffee into it.

“You’ve been going to your NA meetings, right?” You ask him, sipping your drink.

He nods immediately, his gaze never leaving you. “Yeah. Once a week.”

“That’s good!” You tell him, the caffeine slowly beginning to wake you up. “That’s really good, Walter.”

He smiles at you, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “Thank you.”

For a few moments, all he can think about is you. Your hair smells like your special vanilla shampoo that Penelope got you hooked on and your skin smells like lavender and orange blossom. He remembers JJ giving you a sample in the office and you went and ordered a whole bottle during your lunch break right after. The compliments you got that day were like no other, and he remembers the way your eyes would light up every single time someone commented on the perfume, as well as the way you would excitedly talk about the different notes. Now, whenever he smells lavender or oranges he thinks of you. He doesn’t think it’s a problem in the slightest.

You sip your coffee again, the sound of the toaster dinging in the background, accompanied by the thick smell of char. In an instant, Spencer jolts from his place and places two very burnt slices of toast onto the plate, his nose scrunching up in frustration.

“I was gonna make you breakfast,” he tells you lamely. “I think we should get croissants.”

You laugh, dumping the pieces of toast into the bin and nod. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

***

The rare occasion when Spencer drives is when you’re not fit to. He picks you up at two in the morning at a bar and you’re sitting in his passenger seat. Your hair has a few tangles here and there and you’re wearing the prettiest purple dress.

“You really didn’t have to pick me up,” you tell him tiredly, rubbing at your eyes. “I could have gotten a taxi.”

Spencer rolls his eyes, leaning over the console to buckle in your seatbelt. “You called me, I’m here. I’m not going to let you get into a stranger’s car when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!” You protest, your head leaning against the car door. “I had one drink.”

“Which can lead to a blood alcohol level of 0.01 to 0.03,” Spencer says, shooting you a smile. “I’d rather not risk it, angel.”

You groan and lean back on the chair. “I swear I’m fine.”

“Why didn’t your friends take you home?” He asks, starting the ignition. “Didn’t you say you were going to hitch a ride with them?”

A hum leaves your lips and you nod. “That was the plan. But one of the designated drivers couldn’t come last minute and the car wasn’t big enough.”

Spencer frowns, backing out of the driveway. “How long were you waiting outside of the bar?”

“Um…” your brows furrow as you think of the answer and you fiddle with the hem of your skirt. “Ten minutes?”

“(Y/N).”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think it would have been that long,” you huff, rubbing at your eyes. “I promise I was careful.”

Spencer shoots you a frustrated look, sipping at his lukewarm takeaway cup of filtered coffee but keeping his eyes on the road. “You should have called me sooner.”

“I felt bad,” you respond sheepishly, offering him a guilty smile.

Spencer hums, running a hand through his hair. He hasn’t had the time to get it cut so for the time being it’s left slicked back and out of his eyes. He’s wearing his glasses now, too, because he didn’t have the time to put in his contacts. He looks a lot better than he did eight months ago, and he feels it, too. The white t-shirt he’s wearing is filled a little better now that he’s gained a little weight. Happy weight you had told him, pinching at his sides, it means you’re healing.

“Can you pull over?”

Your voice comes out small and Spencer snaps his head to look in your direction. “Yeah. Yeah, of course– hold on.”

He parks at a random McDonald’s on the side of the freeway and you immediately get out of the car and hurl in one of the bushes. He grimaces, getting out of the car to rub your back comfortingly.

“You okay?” He asks, continuing to rub circles on your back. He holds your hair away from your face, watches as your necklace dangles from your neck and catches the light from the 24/7 fast food place.

“... I might have had a little more than one drink.”

He can’t bring himself to get upset at you. Instead, Spencer just sighs and brandishes a bottle of water from the side pocket of his car. “Sip it slowly.”

You do as asked, taking small tentative sips of the cold water. He holds your hair in place, brushing a few strands away from your eyes and forehead.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you taking a taxi,” Spencer says with a hum, satisfied when you finish drinking half the bottle. “What if you threw up in their car?”

You groan, wiping a hand over your face. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, angel,” he says sympathetically, lifting your chin with his index finger so that you’re looking at him. “I just worry. You should be able to rely on me, too, you know.”

“Okay,” you say through drunken stupor. “Didn’t mean to worry you, Walter.”

“I know,” he repeats softly, running his fingers through your hair. “Hey. Look up.”

You do, and you stare up at the sky. Stars dot and litter the navy sky, and if you squint you could see a faint blue star.

“That’s Venus,” he explains, gesturing to the little dot. He points to a smaller, redder light just below it. “That’s Mars.”

Even amidst the light pollution, the planets shine brightly. Your gaze is fixed upon the little planets and stars, enjoying the midsummer night’s breeze, the nausea you felt moments prior beginning to subside.

“Do you know what Venus represents?” Spencer asks softly, brushing his shoulder against yours, smiling when you shake your head. “Venus represents love and beauty in Roman mythology.”

You laugh, pressing your nose into his shoulder. “Do you believe that?”

“Scientifically? No,” he admits, “Venus is a planet. It doesn’t really represent anything but a giant ball of gas. But people place significance on insignificant things because it gives them meaning so I understand why they do it.”

It’s quiet for a little while, aside from the occasional sound of a car passing by and a cicada chirping. A cool breeze blows past but it’s more comforting than anything as the two of you sit on the hood of his car: an old 1965 Volvo Amazon in the colour blue horizon with paint chipping off at the inner fenders and bumper ends. He lets you sit on his jacket, your dress and legs protected from the dirty car bonnet. Your head is on his shoulder, your arms wrapped around his and you’ve traded your heels for a pair of Spencer’s spare mis-matched socks.

“(Y/N),” he whispers, rubbing his hand on your arm. “We should get you home.”

You nod, wiggling your toes in the socks. “Yeah.”

Spencer pauses and looks at you, watching as you yawn and hop off the car. He says your name again, chuckling a little bit when you look up at him a little dazed. The words get caught in his chest as he takes a tentative step closer to you. You’re so close. Just one small move. That’s all it would take… he dismisses the thoughts when he can smell the liquor on your skin.

“You’re my best friend,” he says quietly after several moments of silence.

You smile at him. “You’re my best friend, too.”

He drives you home that day with more regret than necessary. He wishes he kissed you. It would have made his life so much easier.

← previous part || next part →

full work

reblogs are always appreciated!

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chillinglyadventurous · 1 month ago

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Stanford Pines Relationship Headcanons

Please don’t post this on TikTok without asking me first.

Man has the most dexterous fingers! He would absolutely braid your hair and it would last for days. Would carefully master the skill so your hair would come out in the perfect waves every time you took it down. I need not mention the other things can do with those beautiful hands.

As in every head canon I have ever read, he is touch starved. Would seek you out for comfort or to ground him when his reattach became overwhelming. Just holding your hand, running his fingers through your hair, and having a hand on your hips would keep this man from going insane, pre and post portal.

Would melt for you if you show love by acts of service and physical touch. You make this man eat or bring him something to eat? You have his heart. Make him coffee? He’s yours. Kiss this man. Cuddle him. He deserves it.

If you met him after Weirdmegeddon, don’t expect him to tell you about it right away. I think you’d first hear whispers about it in town. Of course, no one would tell you about it. When you went to Ford, he’d do his best to change the subject. You can’t get mad/frustrated him for keeping this secret. I think he’d close himself off if you did. However, once you were resigned to letting him have that secret, that’s when he’d tell you. He’d need to feel like he could trust you and that you wouldn’t judge him or think less of him first.

I hate to say it, but he would not be a good kisser. Despite the robot’s efforts, he would be a bit sloppy with it. His teeth would constantly get in the way. Too much spit. Too much tongue. He’d be teachable, though. Just sit the man down, maybe play an instructional YouTube video. He’d get better.

Same goes for sex.

You have to love his family. No negotiation. If you don’t care for Dipper and Mabel like your own children, you’re out of there. With Stan, you have to at least get along. He knows Stan can be difficult and abrasive, but you’d have to get along with him, especially if your relationship begins after he and Stan get back from their trip on the Stan O’ War II.

Speaking of Stan, he would constantly make fun of Ford for having a S/O. Stan would bully him relentlessly. He would also flirt with you in front of Ford just to get a reaction. Give it right back to him, say the craziest things about Ford, true or not, that would make Stan back down.

Be prepared for Mabel to set up dates for you and Ford. She loves her grunkles and wants to see them happy, especially Ford. Ford reminds her a lot of Dipper and I think we, the fandom, can agree. Ford’s not as charismatic as Stan. Mabel would do anything to keep you both happy and would obsess over how your relationship is going. Would likely stay up all night thinking of ship names for the two of you. Would call you and Ford her OTP.

At first, I don’t think Dipper would be too thrilled to have to share Ford’s attention with an S/O. Much like in Swooning over Stans, he’d be distrustful of you. Trust no one. However, he would come around to it once he realized you make Ford happy and aren’t trying to keep him from Ford. Would call you Graunt [Y/N] by accident.

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #ford pines #stanford pines #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #headcanon

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lxclerc · 1 year ago

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𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐟 | 𝐚𝐥𝟏𝟐

summary… arthur is dating someone and his fans don’t like it request… yes but it’s for the og arthur girlie faceclaim… xowie jones pairing… arthur leclerc x reader

note… @coffeehurricanes have been begging me to make something for arthur since forever and i finally caved

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl and others

yourusername my “that’s her” pictures but it’s the pics my bf showed his mum

view all comments…

user1 girlie this isn’t something to be proud of

user2 she’s so cool and different and quirky and not like other girls !!!!!!!!!! do you want a cookie or sumthing?

lorenzotl can confirm! 😂

⤷ yourusername you loved me the moment you saw me, admit it

⤷ lorenzotl i admit it!

charles_leclerc maman nearly had a heart attack!!

⤷ yourusername then i became her fav 🤭

⤷ user7 pascale prolly can’t stand this bitch

user3 nah bc what the hell does she have on the leclerc brothers bc no way they genuinely like her dating arthur

arthur_leclerc and i wouldn’t have it any other way ❤️

⤷ yourusername idiot

⤷ arthur_leclerc *your* idiot

⤷ user4 arthur was being sweet and this bitch just insults him for no reason

⤷ user5 arthur blink twice if you’re being held captive

user6 so many jealous and mad bitches in this comment section. not so gentle reminder for yall that he’ll never date you in any universe lol ♡ liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc and 203 others

arthur_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pascale_leclerc and others

arthur_leclerc my beautiful, beautiful girl ❤️

view all comments…

user1 is the beautiful beautiful girl in the room with us?

user2 arthur wear red next weekend if she’s holding a gun to your head

user3 i could be a better girlfriend than her

yourusername i’ll always save my last chicken nuggy for you, mi amore

⤷ arthur_leclerc you must really love me 😌

⤷ yourusername don’t push it

⤷ user4 she just has to ruin every sweet moment

charles_leclerc really mate?

⤷ yourusername if you’re jealous, close your eyes

⤷ user8 girl what does charles have to be jealous about

user5 why do we even hate her? like has she done anything worth hating her for? or is it just bc she looks a little different than what’s considered as conventional and happened to be dating your white boy of the month?

⤷ user6 i think she’s really a bad influence on arthur and she publicly argues with a lot of people on twitter

⤷ user5 doesn’t she only argue with people who say shit abt arthur? i mean why isn’t she not allowed to defend her bf? also where’s your proof abt her being a bad influence on arthur

⤷ user7 bitches real quiet cause they’ve got nothing to use

arthur_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl, and others

arthur_leclerc i’ve let this go on long enough and now she’s gotten hurt. i have no words to express how disappointed i am of everyone who has ever said anything against y/n for no reason other than she is with me. she has done nothing to deserve the bullying she gets and yet she does nothing to any of you.

any hate i see about her will be automatically blocked. i would rather have no fans at all than have fans who can’t respect the woman i intend to spend my life with.

and if anyone do anything to her physically, i will retaliate worse than i did today. this is a warning.

and to @yourusername i’ve failed you, baby. i sat back and watch everyone bully you telling you to just ignore it all and you didn’t deserve that. i will spend the rest of my life making up to you.

view all comments…

charles_leclerc i am so proud of you for taking a stand, brother. y/n does not deserve any of this

lorenzotl fully behind the two of you 🤍

user1 arthur has had enough on all of your bullshits and it’s time yall knew it

user2 he let yall know he’s not afraid to throw hands

user3 where yall loud mouthed ass bitches now????

yourusername i love you more than words

⤷ arthur_leclerc i will love you better now, baby

user4 it’s always seemed so fucking stupid how much hates she gets for literally no reason

#arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc angst #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc fanfic #arthur leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagines #formula 1 #formula 2 one shot #formula 3 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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thewitchandtheassassin · 26 days ago

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Honest (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: “Lady, I’m the manager and the only employee today. Get the hell out of my store.”

Words: 1070

Warnings: Language, suggestiveness??

A/N: I hate that lady and wish Rio had punted her into the sun. That's all.

-X-

From the moment you noticed the white-haired woman storming towards your counter, you knew you were in for a horrible interaction. Plastering a fake, cheerful smile, you greeted her.

“Good afternoon! Did you -”

“This place is a dump,” she hissed, slamming her goods onto the counter. “If my daughter was working in this place at your age, I would disown her. Are your parents proud of you?”

Blinking at her owlishly, you bristled with choked back fury. Truthfully, this wasn’t your normal job - nor was this your only job - but you were covering a shift for your mother, who’d taken your father to the hospital but couldn’t afford to close the small “mom and pop” shop. Being here was a favor, not your career, but some old, miserable bitch didn’t deserve your explanations and you weren’t going to dictate a dissertation of your life to a complete stranger.

“Do you need anything else?” you asked brusquely, scanning the few items before placing them in paper bags.

“Oh god, are you one of those hippies who forces paper over plastic? Get over it. Give me something that isn’t going to rip!” she hissed, digging out her wallet before her eyes go wide at the total. “With such horrible service, you’re still going to charge me that without some sort of compensation for my treatment? I’m certain you have some coupons or sale codes back there that you can use to fix your terrible mistakes. My god, do you need a roadmap?”

“H-horrible service? Ma’am, I…” you paused, looking at the stuff tucked into bags before shaking your head. You’d rather offer your parents money than accept this woman’s cash. “Get out.”

“I beg your pardon?” she sputtered, eyes narrowing in a manner you were certain she used to intimidate teenagers at the supermarket. “You can’t speak to me like this! I want your manager.”

Sliding the bags out of reach, you glared at her with unbridled disdain. “Lady, I’m the manager and the only employee today. Get the hell out of my store.”

“How dare you! I’ve been coming here for years! I’m good friends with the owner and when he hears about this…”

Your snort cut through her ramblings. “Oh, you know him, huh? Well, I’ll be sure to let my mother know her ‘good friend’ came in here acting like a rude, entitled, demented demon from the pits of hell instead of a civilized human being so that she knows to bar you from the shop. Anything else I can do for you before I call the sheriff - an actual good friend - to come escort you off the property?”

Mouth agape, you’d never seen a grown woman look so aghast before and truthfully, you didn’t give a shit. You weren’t some fresh-faced eighteen year old she could push around and bully.

Someone needed to tell her a thing or two and good news, you had the time and the attitude to do just that.

“I need those -“

Slamming your hand onto the counter, your smile grew unsettlingly wide. “Well, bless your heart, guess you better go find somewhere else to get ‘em, huh?”

-X-

After your interaction with the woman the day before, you had little interest in keeping the shop open for your mother another day, but as she tearfully explained she couldn’t return until the next morning, you swallowed your distaste and did as she asked.

“It’s one more day,” you mumbled to yourself, forehead resting in your hand as you sat on the lone stool. “Just one more day.”

You had nearly dozed off when the bell above the door signaled the arrival of your only patron so far. Glancing up, you greeted the dark-haired woman with a faint smile and wave.

“Howdy, how can I help you?”

The woman slid her sunglasses up to the top of her head, pursing her lips in an odd way that had you singling in on the softest looking mouth you’d ever seen. She was beautiful and mysterious and goddammit, you were so gay.

“Do you happen to know who was working yesterday?” she inquired, earning a slow brow arch.

“Yeah…” you drawled out slowly, carefully. “It was me.”

“Oh thank god, I’m glad you’re not some sad teenager who cried after she left,” she muttered, eyes locking on yours. “You had the unfortunate displeasure of speaking with my mother yesterday and I came to apologize. Not so much for her sake, but for my own because your shop sells fabulous face care products I can’t get anywhere else in this godforsaken town and I do not want to end up banned from here.”

Blinking slowly, you nodded after a moment. “Uh, yeah, no, you’re fine. I never woulda guessed she was your mother. She always like that?”

“Cantankerous and miserable? Yes. Has been my whole life.”

“Christ, I feel bad for you,” you blurted, eyes widening instantly as she began to cackle. “Uh, sorry, that was supposed to stay in my head.”

Her lips curled into a wicked smile and it left your insides full of butterflies.

“I like a girl who’s honest,” she teased, offering a hand. “Agatha Harkness.”

You shook her hand, marveling in the smooth skin as you absently gave your name in return. You couldn’t help the way your eyes drifted to her lips before fluttering back up to her gaze.

“I saw that little glance - you’re not as sneaky as you think,” Agatha purred, delighting in the warmth that flooded your cheeks. “What time do you get off… work?”

Glancing at the clock, 5:23 stared back at you tauntingly. The place had been dead all day and at this point, you were just wasting electricity.

Throwing caution to the wind, you shrugged, smirking at Agatha conspiratorially. “Right now if someone gives me a good enough reason.”

“How about you buy me a drink as an apology for my horrible childhood and if it goes well, maybe I’ll find a way to thoroughly apologize for all the trouble you went through yesterday?”

The sparkle in her eye and the way she stared at your lips pointedly for a moment left your heart racing, beating like horse hooves against your ribs. You were nodding before you even realized it, running through your mental checklist for closing the store.

“Give me ten minutes.”

-X-

You closed it in six.

#agatha harkness imagine #reader insert #reader imagine #agatha all along #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #mcu imagine #marvel imagine

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vlrspace · 2 years ago

Text

in which bakugou waits years till you finally come around

cw: reader is a bit of a grudge holder and has trouble to see bakugou in a different light, mention of injuries, there is a (1) very heated moment towards the end - MDNI!!! -, bakugou is soft towards reader the whole time, a bit angsty but there is comfort

wc: 9.5K

an: this is quite clumsy and there might be errors. i hope you all are doing well!! <333

bakugou knew you ever since the two of you were babies.

he was nearly a year older than you and he always made sure you knew that and it worked, while the two of you were younger. you always looked at him with stars in your eyes, drinking in every word he said, followed him around and let him take your hand. he didn’t understand back then why you started to distance yourself from him, he had a strong quirk and he could already read, so why were you more interested in that quirkless nobody?

his superiority complex and the need to be better than everyone didn’t help the situation either. he started to bully midoriya and when you kept sticking up for the damn nerd, he truly felt like he lost. the breaking point between the two of you was when he told midoriya to jump off a building so he might get a quirk in his next life. he never seen you so angry before that. you didn’t talk to him afterwards, not even after he got attacked by a villain, you only praised midoriya for helping him. not even when all the three of you got accepted into ua until the usj attack.

bakugou managed to save you from a villain that was trying to stab his knife through your chest, thankfully just in time he blasted the bastard away. you guys didn’t have the chance to talk, too busy to save your other classmates and you ran off to see midoriya again after he got injured at the end of the fight. later that night, you did drop by with some mochi from your favourite bakery and quietly thanking him for jumping in and not letting you die. he only mumbled a quiet ‘your welcome’ before you swiftly made your way out of the bakugou’s gates.

——

he always wanted to show you how strong he was, that he can protect you from anything that life throws at any moment, deku didn’t even have a quirk until it randomly appeared (he often wondered if you knew about it, were you hiding it together?) and now he seems to surpass him in everything. could he protect you better from the world than bakugou would ever be able to?

then the sports festival came around, you were all over deku again, congratulating him when he won the first round with a hug and at the back of his mind he wished it was him that you hugged. when he won the festival (he thought he didn’t deserve it with how half n half fainted), he hoped that you’d say something to him too. you didn’t say anything to him and he tried not letting it get to him. however, later that night he received a message from you, congratulating him on his win and he was glad no one saw him because his face felt like he was on fire. that made him so proud of himself, maybe you two will get along again?

——

you still don’t talk to him though, even when you needed help with some subject around midterms, you only asked deku again and that smart girl to help you. if you would’ve looked at him with your bright eyes, you would’ve seen how eager he would’ve been tutoring you and not shitty hair. when midterms pass and you both pass, he feels relieved that you’re coming to the training camp as well without any supplementary classes needed. he didn’t think at the time that the fact he got kidnapped will be the first time you come around and hug him in years.

you came to help them a second too late, only seeing him being warped away and telling deku to not follow him. you rushed to help deku after seeing his arms, trying to ignore the fact that bakugou just got kidnapped. when kirishima decided to take control and you guys should go and save him, you went along. you didn’t hate him, but you didn’t know where you two stand after all the things he did to your best friend in the past ten years. so when you saw him surrounded by villains before iida, midoriya and kirishima flew him out to safety, you felt relieved. yes, you don’t know where the two of you stand but you still care for him. you can also tell he looked surprised when your group reunited to watch all might’s last fight but you offered him a small smile after seeing there were no injuries on his body.

ua closed its gates three days prior to bakugou’s rescue and it remained closed for another week to become a boarding school with dorms. after further discussions between parents and teachers to ensure the safety of students, everything returned to normal.

two days before moving in, the bakugou’s bell was rung, and bakugou mitsuki was the one to answer the door. to say she was surprised to see the (h/c) coloured girl stand shyly in-front of their house was an understatement. mitsuki might be older, her son might think she’s a nagging old hag but she wasn’t stupid. the silent fallout between you and her son is still up in the air but she could never hold a grudge against you, she knows her son could be an outright asshole. mitsuki really believed that if god is real, then there is hope for the two of you to get along again.

“good afternoon sweet girl, long time no see, how have you been?” her warm smile instantly put you under ease and you gave her a timid smile of your own.

“good afternoon mitsuki, i’m doing alright, thank you. is katsuki home?” you quietly ask after you politely answer her question and the older woman can barely hide her smile widening at the fact that you still call her son by his first name. maybe things aren’t that bad anymore.

“yes, he is. the police advised for him to not go outside till school starts again. would you like to come in?” she moves to stand aside, but you shake your head at her invitation.

“no, no i just wanted to talk to him, if that’s okay” you look down to avoid her eyes that is the exact resemblance of her sons, well katsuki is the exact replica of mitsuki. she won’t push you to come in, so she yells loudly like usual for her son to come downstairs because someone is here to see him. when she turns towards you again is when she sees the plastic bag that you’re holding, seemingly full of things that looked like katsuki’s favourites. that made her feel warmth spread through her chest, you still remember what he likes.

“what is it old hag? can’t you just tell ‘em to-“ katsuki stops in the middle of his yelling when he reaches the front door, only to see you standing there. “hey” he stops next to his mum, his voice recognisably softer, which his mum would tease about but she decides against it, it’s not time for that yet.

“hey” you mumble, curling into your hoodie from the two pair of eyes (why do they look the exact same, it’s scary) staring at you. before bakugou could yell at his mum again to back off, mitsuki slips away after telling the two of you that she’ll see what masaru is up to. the both of you are grateful for that. after a few minutes of quietly standing you find the courage to talk to the ash blonde boy in front of you “i bought you a few things, i hope you’re doing okay with all the things that happened” you don’t look up to him instead you watch your fingers fiddle with your hoodie.

bakugou on the hand is focused on your head, waiting for you eyes to meet his, before gathering his thoughts. he’s slightly taken aback that you came to see him, even if it’s only because he got kidnapped but it means a lot to bakugou that you came to check up on him. “i’m good, heroes need to be tough and get though anythin’ that’s thrown at ‘em” he shrugged, wanting to come off cool and ignore how fast his heart was beating.

without saying another word, you gently wrap your arms around his middle and bury your face into his sturdy chest, fearing he might slip away again. bakugou’s eyes widen at the contact, suddenly not knowing what to do with his hands before clumsily circle them around your shoulders and pull you closer to him. he rest his chin on the crown of your head, noting to himself that you smell like strawberries and peaches and hopes you can’t feel his heart rate quicken (you did, your heart was beating fast too). after a while you pulled away, giving him a small smile before extending your hand with the plastic bag towards him. “i got you a few things, i hope they will cheer you up from all the trouble that you’ve experienced”

he takes it from you, feeling the blush on his cheeks spread. “thanks” he whispers and he hoped you know that he’s grateful for your hug too. before he could ask if you want to come in you slowly start to back off towards the road.

“i’ll see you in school katsuki, be good” your smile never faltered and you gave him a small wave. bakugou felt like maybe things were starting to change between the two of you for good as he muttered a “you too” after you and walked inside after you disappeared from his sight.

mitsuki, who’s been watching the two of you the whole time from one of the windows smiled to herself, maybe there was hope after all.

——

from them on, your interaction with bakugou increased by a bit, now you greet him around campus whenever you see him, but no more than that. bakugou longed to make conversations with you about literally anything, yet he didn’t force himself on you, happy either way.

after a week or too, you didn’t miss the way bakugou treated izuku before walking away, you know he said something to make the green haired boy stand there with slightly wide eyes. when the ash blonde was out of earshot, you walked up to izuku to make sure he’s alright. when you reached him, he motioned for you two to go outside and when you two walked through the doors, you both sat down on the stairs.

“i think he knows about ofa” izuku mumbled nervously, hands twitching in his lap as he stared ahead. “i mean it was expected, kacchan is very smart and-“ izuku went on his own train of thoughts and you gently grabbed one of his hand.

“it was inevitable either way, katsuki won’t tell a soul either way, we both know he’s not the type” you reassure your best friend, giving him a small smile.

“i know, he’ll probably get mad though haha” izuku lets out a forced laugh and you just move your hand to rub his back.

what you didn’t expect the next morning was that you’d find both boys wrapped in bandages and in a pretty beat up state. well if you had to guess, you were sure with katsuki, that the conversation between them would never had been just sitting next one other and discuss what’s on your mind. you were even more surprised when izuku told you that they are both in house arrest for a few days and have to clean the building. aizawa sensei did not go easy on them with the punishments.

bakugou only looked at the two of you while waiting for everyone to leave for classes, wishing you’d come up to him as well, but he decided to talk to you tonight about his conversation with midoriya and you were quite surprised later that afternoon when he walked up to you, asking if you two could talk somewhere private. you only nodded and followed him up to his room.

when you two reached your destination, he let you in first and you looked around his room since this is your first time here and it was very bakugou like and you swear you saw a few all might figurines and were those romance novels? you didn’t have much time to think about when he cleared his throat from his spot on the bed where he seemingly sat down while you were looking around.

“you knew about it, didn’t you?” he quietly asked, looking directly in your eyes with an unreadable emotion. you looked right back at him, thinking of the right answer, but he continued. “you always favoured that damn nerd” he added somewhat bitterly while looking away from you.

“it’s not about favouring anyone katsuki” his heart quickens when he hears you calling him by his first name “and it wasn’t my place to tell you about the inheritance of one for all.” he knows you’re right with the slight sharpness in your tone. “i found it out by accident too if it calms your nerves. i know him like the back of my hand so i knew something was up when he suddenly couldn’t spend time with me. so i followed him and saw him with all might, then there was no point in hiding it” you shrugged but your soft gaze remained on him.

bakugou decided to not try and argue with you, not wanting to lose the small amount of involvement you two built up. so he only nodded while standing up and walked you back down the common room without any other words being exchanged. you were kind of expecting him to go off on you but you didn’t want to talk about it any further, this is izuku’s business not yours, you’re just happy that he was given a chance to prove himself to be a hero.

——

the two of you go back to how things were before your conversation and soon enough winter approaches. after the matches with 1B, bakugou walked up to you while you were walking back to the dorms. you were talking with uraraka about todays events when he brushed his hand against your back with such gentleness that you thought it was one of the girls. when you turned around you abruptly stop and look at him, eyes round with wonder.

“can i talk to you for a second?” his rough voice makes it hard to understand his words at first with how quiet his voice is and you turn towards ochaco, who looked at the both of you with curiosity.

“i’ll meet you back at the dorms” you flash her a smile and she walks away from the two of with a nod. “is everything okay?” you ask bakugou as the two of you walk in a comfortable pace.

“i just, i wanted to tell you that you did great today” he slowly said while looking ahead. “i uh, i think your new move is quite cool” he added, feeling the redness spread across his cheeks.

“you think? it took me a while to get it right but i’m so happy that i was able to use it just like how i planned” you explain to him how you put the whole move together and all of his attention was on you, drinking your words in. this is probably the first time you talked this much to him since your childhood. “you know, i’m glad you’re becoming a team player” you add at the end and he knew you meant that he involved his team in his plans instead of just fighting on his own.

“yeah, as long as they follow what i say, anyone with me will win” he smirked as the two of you reached the dorm building, you turn towards him with a smile and he feels like he made a small accomplishment with you.

——

the next time the two of you have this amount of conversation is when when he wakes up from his coma after pushing izuku out of the way before shigaraki could hit him. you knew the two have been training together more recently after izuku manifested a second quirk during the training fight against class 1B and then thanks to todoroki, they both were able to do their hero work studies at endeavour’s agency where all three of them improved drastically. you were lucky enough to land a position at mirko’s agency where you learned a few new skills yourself. then bakugou accompanied izuku back to shigaraki to fight along and protect him, which resulted in him getting seriously injured.

you were waiting for izuku to wake up when you heard him stomping against the cold tile floor, shouting that izuku needs to wake up. your heart swells at the fact that he’s worried for your childhood friend, yet you were also worried for him, so without thinking you jump up and stop him abruptly when you gently hug him. you didn’t want to hurt his wound on his lower stomach nor the one on his shoulder so you pulled away soon after and that was enough time for the others to pick him up and take him back to bed and you followed them.

the rest of your friends walked out of the room the second you stepped in and closed the door behind them. you took a seat on his bed, right next to his hand and you took it in yours. you held it delicately, your tender caressing putting him at ease as you moved it into your lap. your uniform’s skirt slid up a little bit so his naturally warm hand was touching your bare thigh and he tried his best not blush at the contact. he was waiting for you to talk first when he felt something wet drop on his hand, so when he heard you sniffle, he instantly felt alarmed. he moved his hand up from your lap to cradle your face and turn you towards him. no words were needed as he pulled your shaking body towards his, engulfing you in a hug while stroking your back and face while hiding his face in your hair (if only the two of you knew back then that no less than two months later you’ll be in the same position with even more emotions).

——

the first time bakugou saw you truly angry with the deku was when he decided to leave you all behind, only leaving letters to explain how he’s putting everyone in more danger if he stays in one place.

“it’s not all for one who will kill him, i will, he should be more scared of me” you pave back and forth in the common rooms where everyone is gathered to find a way to get izuku back. “what is he thinking, does he think he can take them on without any back up? the second i see him, i will end him for real” your rant is not taken seriously by anyone, they were sharing your opinion but maybe they weren’t to as aggressive about it (izuku later admitted that he was indeed scared of your wrath and offered you a limited edition figurine of all might, which you refused to accept).

no one heard of him for a while now and none of you could sit around any longer and hope for a miracle. so when you all managed to get endeavour to meet with principal nezu in his office and find out where he was currently at, you all feel somewhat relived, now all you had to was bring him back.

you all reached the mall after saving him from the villain dictator, though he still put up a fight, thinking that no matter what, he’ll be better off alone. everyone told izuku something that influenced them thanks to him but he still didn’t listen. it was hard to look at him, all beat up and tired and you wonder when was the last time he had a proper meal and a good nights sleep. he only stopped hopping around, when bakugou started to talk to him and apologise for how he treated him all those years. your eyes felt glossy when bakugou rushed towards izuku’s fainting body.

——

you and bakugou didn’t talk much since then, too focused on training for the war. the two of talked again when you reached your temporary dormitory the day before luring all for one to you. a knock was heard on your door around 8pm and you wondered who it was. bakugou stood there, now changed out of his hero costume and only wore his usual comfy outfit. you let him in right away and you both sit on your bed. his fingers linger on your arm first before he slides his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together.

“you better not die out there (y/n)” the use of your name makes it sound more sincere and serious, the gentleness of his voice makes your heart flutter. you squeeze his hand as you grin up at him and lean your head against his shoulder.

“you better not die out there either katsuki” you add quietly, the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed in silence.

if only the two of you knew back then.

——

everything is blurry when you open your eyes, the lights are too bright and you swiftly close your eyes with a wince, suddenly aware of the amount scars you must’ve suffered from the war. your mind feels hazy as you try to find your bearings again. how long have you been out for? how is everyone doing?

you don’t even bother to sit up so just lay there with staring up at the ceiling, you’re alone in the room, maybe your injuries were too severe and as fast as you possibly can, you check if you still have your limbs attached to you. your left leg is hang up, seeming broken while the other one is only bandaged up. your arms aren’t broken, only a few of your fingers and out of the blue you remember taking a hit with your right shoulder. you don’t even want to think about the state your chest must be in. you rest your head on your pillow again as you force yourself to remember.

you remember winning, that’s for sure.

you also remember hitting your head so hard you barely managed to continue on fighting and that kind of answers why you have a hard time getting flashbacks. you’re so deep in thought that you don’t even notice someone walking in.

“oh my god shoji, she’s awake! go and get a doctor” you recognise jiro’s voice before you see her and you turn towards her direction. “you’re the last one to wake up, we were so worried!” she rushes to your side, her tone is full of worry.

“so i had been out for a while huh” you wish you could tell her that your ears are acting funny but you don’t have the heart to say anything when you see one of hers wrapped up, meaning her quirk is damaged. you are barely acknowledging how the door of your room is getting more busy, when a doctor walks in with a nurse.

“miss (l/n), you spent nearly two weeks in coma. although from those severe injuries you collected during the war needed time to heal.” then the doctor goes on about fractures, broken bones and you have a concussion as well. you only hummed in response as you stared up the ceiling again. according to the nurse, your bandages are holding up nicely and so are the machines around you but told you that she’ll be back in a few hours to check up on you.

once they leave your room, your family is the first one to come in. your mum sits down right away, next to your bed and you see her eyes are red, probably from crying all day and night, hoping you wake up soon, but she smiles at you with so much care you feel your eyes water. your dad is sitting down on your other side, his whole face looks relaxed now that you’re awake. you listen to them as the kindly scold you but they reassure you how proud they are of you for being so brave. your mum even told you that’ll she cook your favourite dish tomorrow and bring it in for you. they left two hours later, but your room became more busy after that.

your friends crowded around your bed, all feeling relief that finally you’re awake too. they are all bandaged up, but the happiness on their faces made you feel better. they all filled you in on their own journey with the hospital. when izuku walked in through the door, they all said their goodbyes and get well soons, promising to visit you tomorrow.

izuku was in no better state than you, needing a crutch to walk around. a wide smile is stretching on his face, as he looks at you and you return it.

“the hero of our future, how are you?” your voice is still rough from not using it in a while.

“it’s only because everyone helped me taking down all for one and shigaraki, we did it together. besides i’m feeling so much now that my best friend is awake.” he replies with fondness in his voice.

“who would’ve thought three years ago that we’d be here today like this” you let out a soft snicker.

“i’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me, ever since we were kids” izuku tears up and you would wipe his tears for him if you could move your fingers. “kacchan is outside, you two should talk as well” he adds with a gentle tone and you only nod.

you remember him getting a deadly shot.

as izuku walks out, kirishima rolls bakugou in, he’s body in a wheelchair. he isn’t as moody as he usually is and his face looks so tender when he finally looks at you. when kirishima left, he leaps out of the chair and slowly sits next to you, just like you did two months ago. you wish you could feel his touch around your hand when he gently grabs it and when the two of you finally look at each other, your tears are unstoppable. he lefts your hand up to cradle his cheeks, seeking your comfort while sniffling and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this. no words are said this time around either, the both of you happy to be around the other.

——

it will take japan a long time to get back on track after the destruction, the war had caused. everyone is still experiencing the aftermath, but things are looking bright.

you’re reading an article about another city being successfully built up again as you walk towards your classroom. your third year only started two months ago, the pressure of graduating and becoming an actual, full time hero is somewhat taking a tool on all of you. however some of your classmates know how to bring the fun in during stressful times.

“y’all, barbecue night tomorrow, how does that sound?” mina loudly asks as she looks around the room and everyone gets rather excited about the idea, excitedly chatting with each other. you walk towards izuku, to show him the article on your phone, knowing he still feels like he was the cause of the war, so news like this reassure him somewhat, that no one blames him. he leans down to read it and he excitedly rambles to you that half of japan had been rebuilt already with some help from overseas. the two of you continue talking until aizawa sensei walks in tiredly as always and the chatter among the class dissolves and everyone sits down to their desks.

the rest of the day goes by uneventful, everyone is preparing to blow some steam off during the weekend. bakugou comfortably sits on one of the sofa’s with legs spread, his arms is resting on the headrest as he lazily scrolls through his phone. it wasn’t his turn to make dinner tonight either and kirishima is away training with a few others. bakugou prefers to train early in the morning so he doesn’t have to listen to the nagging of his friends about not spending enough time with them in the afternoons.

he feels someone plop down next to him and when he turns his head at the person who interrupted his rather ‘productive’ time, he stops the shout bubbling in his throat when he sees your bright (e/c) eyes staring at him. his features visibly soften as he takes in your face, he knows you came back from training and just got out of the showers, your usual scent of strawberry and peaches fills his nostrils and your hair still damp. you’re dressed comfortably, wearing shorts and a baggy shirt and you’re eating a granola bar.

your relationship with bakugou hadn’t changed much since the war ended apart from the two of you talking much more than before. your second year was hectic, the war caused difficulties for everyone, the two of you didn’t really have that much time to be around each other, either way the both of you are happy that the two of you are working your way towards a blossoming, strong friendship. bakugou’s behaviour changed since his first year, he matured and learned to keep his anger under control, mainly around you. he’s also larger than before, his tank top barely hiding the bulging muscles or the baggy pants are barely loose around the thick of his thighs. bakugou looks much more grown up as well, sometimes sporting a stubble and his hair is more tamed at the top with a visible undercut and easily towers over people.

it’s not just him though, you’ve grown into a beautiful young lady as well. you’re hair is longer than it used to be, you lost your baby face and gained sharpness to your cheeks and your curves are more defined. kindness always radiates from your form whenever you’re around and (to bakugou’s dismay) admirers found their way to you, but you politely rejected their advances.

“dinner’s ready soon, so don’t stuff yourself full off that” he gently scolds you and your lips curl up in a smile as you take another bite.

“i know katsu, but it was yelling my name! how could i just leave it there?” you giggle as you fake a pout and you lean more into the sofas cushions with your side and bakugou shakes his head, but a small grin finds its way to his lips. the two of you engage in a small talk about how kaminari electrified sero by mistake, make the poor boy push against a passing midoriya, resulting the both roll around the floor.

during your conversation with the blonde, more people started to make their way into the common room and soon enough dinner was ready too. bakugou helps you stand up from the couch as he extends his hand for you to take and pulls you up tenderly and you’re pressed against his for a second before you thanked him with a smile for helping you and left to join uraraka at one of the tables (he wished you’d sit with him).

the next day, the height alliance was echoing of laughter, the atmosphere was welcoming as 3B joined your class for the night. there are a few games planned, like mario kart, uno and other board games, the playlist jiro put together was playing on the speakers. you were standing next to uraraka as you listened to some of the girls talking about a new boy band that recently came out but you often found your attention slip away and your eyes involuntarily found bakugou every now and then. he was sitting on one of the couches, seemingly in a conversation with a few others. everyone is wearing causal clothes instead of the comfy joggers and shorts and you have to admit, bakugou looks very hot in his black jeans and his simple black shirt. it doesn’t mean that bakugou doesn’t sit like he usually is, his thighs are spread but this time his hands in his pockets.

you never really focused on your romantic feelings towards anyone, you might be a late boomer for that, but even if you and bakugou had a fallout, for some reason it was always obvious that you had some sort of feelings for him. he was the very first friend you made, of course he’ll have a special place in your heart, even so the way he treated midoriya during your middle school years, barely giving him a chance to have a somewhat normal childhood set you off. for a long time back then, you weren’t sure if there was any way of the two of you becoming friends again, but he kept proving himself from time to time that he isn’t the same as he was back then.

the realisation of your feelings was around the time when uraraka and midoriya got together. uraraka shyly asked you one day, if there was anything going on between you and midoriya and you knew of the brown haired girl’s crush on you best friend and at first you weren’t sure what to say to her. you never thought of midoriya that way, you two were more like siblings rather than lovers materials and in the best way possible, you tried to explain that to uraraka. unbeknownst to her, you also knew about midoriya’s crush on uraraka and you helped to set the two up together. the three of you were walking around campus, the couple were holding hands and when you looked at their laced fingers, bakugou popped into your head with a warm feeling and how nice it would be to hold his. you abruptly stopped at the thought of him in that way and you start to shake your head, making the couple walking with you to slow down and you watch at you with a concerned look.

“what’s wrong (y/n)?” midoriya’s voices reaches you and you stop shaking your head. when you turn to look at them, your eyes wide and your face is flushed red. uraraka opens her mouth to talk but you’re faster.

“i think i might have feelings for katsuki” you whisper, hoping the two catched what you said. midoriya’s face looks more calm than a second ago and uraraka’s lips are stretched in a wide grin. “okay, let’s go! do not tell a soul or bring it up again!” you quicken up your pace and start walking ahead of the couple and after a snicker they follow after.

“we should play truth or dare!” mina’s voice brings you out of your rather embarrassing memory and you see everyone moving towards the sofa’s. there is many of you so the chance of you getting picked is low, so you make your way where everyone is gathering. you make eye contact with jiro when you’re looking around for an empty space and she’s flashing a small smile, patting the seat next to her and you beam at her for offering.

when everyone is settled, the game begins. at first it starts out innocent, with a few easy questions like ‘what’s your most embarrassing story?’ or ‘worst date’, but after a while the boys start to feel risky with the dares and suddenly there are faces covered in lipstick marks, izuku had to shout ‘i’m here’ from the rooftop and so on. things were light till mina turned to bakugou.

“truth or dare, mr. grumpy pants?” she smirks at him, eyes glinting in slight mischief and that’s never good.

“raccoon eyes, i’m not even fucking playing” bakugou shouts at the pinkette, making her smirk widen.

“are you scared?” she taunted.

“i’m not! truth” he mumbled the last word.

“do you have a crush on anyone kacchan?” kaminari leans in before mina could ask him the same question before quickly pulling away so he’s face doesn’t get blown off.

“what’s it to you? i do, whatever. now leave me the hell alone” bakugou growls while standing up and retreats to his room before anyone could get more information out of him. kirishima smiled knowingly after him and made eye contact with you, which made you furrow your eyebrows. so bakugou likes someone, she must be pretty lucky then, you think, trying to not let the sadness be apparent on your face.

the rest of the night went by, despite the bomb bakugou dropped on everyone about having a crush, the bakusquad started to make plans to get the ash blonde tell them who it was. later, around 2am, everyone decided to wrap the party up, thanking for 3B for joining you all and you’ll clean up the mess in the morning, too tired to get it done this late.

you take in a huge breath when you step into your room, relieved to finally be alone. it’s not like, you hate being around your friends, but sometimes this amount of people make you feel overwhelmed. you also can’t stop thinking about bakugou, your heart too loud to hear your thoughts and you wish so badly to be able to sleep right now and not feeling this ache of wanting him, knowing he probably wants somebody else.

——

the next few weeks are all the same, packed with tests, training, homework and the excitement for the training camp bubbling in your stomach. although, all of the stress leaves you in a second when you pass all of your tests and pack for the camp. you’ve been thinking about bakugou more and more and you managed to avoid him for your own sake. the uncertainty of having a chance with him made you feel nervous being around him, like you aren’t delusional, it would be weird if he actually thought of you that way since your fallout and all. you also don’t want to lose the friendship the two of you managed to build up again, so you’d rather stand aside and watch him be happy with someone else than losing him.

with thoughts like that, it was hard to get a decent amount sleep, you woke up quite groggy and moody the next morning. you took your time to get ready, coaxing (trying) yourself into a happier mood before anyone realises that something is off. you aren’t in the mood to explain yourself to anyone and you’re more than grateful for midoriya and uraraka for not bothering you about the whole thing you admitted to them.

a knock interrupted your thought process and you loudly asked the person on the other side to wait a second before opening the door, you were in the middle of dressing up in your uniform. bakugou was leaning against the door when you opened the door, watching you fumble with your tie and he quietly scoffed to himself before gently pulling your hands away and helped you. the sudden shock of seeing him caused you to freeze up at first but you let your hands fall down next to your sides while staring ahead of you.

“there dumbass” he rasps, the morning voice is still evident, making your brain hazy. “do you need help with your luggage? the bus just pulled up and we are putting our shit in” his voice is low as he slowly talks, wanting you to look up at him with your pretty hues, however your eyes remained on his shirt.

“that would be nice, thank you” you don’t look at him, instead you’re making your way back inside your room, then pull a large suitcase towards him.

bakugou picks it up without effort, vermilion eyes still trained on your figure “oi, are you okay?” his voice is now gentle compared to his usual harsh tone, stepping closer to you and you don’t move.

“yeah, i just didn’t sleep well last” you mumble out. “but it’s okay, i’ll just sleep on the bus” you force a smile on your face and before he could call you out on barely sleeping, you swiftly turn around to get your backpack and close your door. “let’s go, we’ll be late” you grab his arm and make your way down to the others. once you walk out of the building, you let go of bakugou’s arm and quietly walked towards the others.

bakugou won’t admit it, but he liked the warmth of your hand on his arm. although lately he feels like you’ve been pulling away from him, had he upset you somehow? bakugou doesn’t even want to think about the two of you falling out again, he knows he won’t be able to take it and that will tear his tough exterior down, he can’t let neither happen. bakugou decided the second the bus left and kirishima sat down next to him that during the one week of training camp, he will talk to you about his feelings, even if he knows that you won’t reciprocate them.

the ride towards the destination where your training camp will take place is three hours away from the school. uraraka asked you if it’s okay for her to sit with midoriya, to which you gave her a reassuring smile with a small nod. tsu takes a seat next to you a few minutes later, asking if you’re doing alright and you just put your head on her shoulder while mumbling about how tired you feel. you don’t even realise how you fell asleep till you feel tsu gently nudging you to wake up because you arrived. you don’t feel any less tired nonetheless, the aching feelings never leave. the boys help you girls with your suitcases when you step down from the bus and you all walk inside the large house you’ll be staying at.

this time, two people will share one room instead of everyone sharing one with their genders. mina jumps on you right away, begging for you to join her and you only grab her hand and drag her towards one of the rooms. the second you walk into the room, you plop down on the bed that’s closer to the window.

“we aren’t doing anything today, right?” you ask mina with your eyes closed.

“no we only start on monday, so today we can just relax and settle in!” she excitedly replied and you hear a bunch of things scatter around the floor already.

“good, i’m taking a nap” you pull the covers on top of you, only realising how drained you feel mentally. maybe you should talk to midoriya and uraraka about it, in hopes of feeling better, yeah you’ll do that once you slept.

“girl, what-“ mina doesn’t finish her sentence, already hearing your even breathing. she wonders if you’re doing alright, you’ve been kind of strange lately. at first she thought it was because you were stressed over the exams but she isn’t so sure anymore and mina damn well knows that a certain ash blonde boy is worried about you. mina didn’t have to ask bakugou if he liked you more than a friend, it was always evident since first year how he’s much more gentle around you. she decided not to push it with bakugou though, she doesn’t want to make you or him uncomfortable and mina knows that bakugou knows what he’s doing, she’s just there to support him even if she doesn’t know how you feel towards him.

after a few hours, you wake up to find your room empty. mina’s colourful things, mainly pink, fill up the half of the room and you’re surprised to see how the room isn’t a mess, well yet. you look at your phone to check the time with wide eyes when you realise, you’re already in the evening. there was a message from your pink friend to let you know that she’ll come and wake you up before dinner if you are still asleep then. you stand up from your bed and lock the door so no one walks in on you while changing. you change into a pair of gym shorts and a loose fitting shirt and you unpack your clothes and other necessities first before unlocking the door and leave your room to join the others. you hope they aren’t mad at you for not being around them lately (they are more worried than mad).

everyone is hanging outside, the camp had a large garden with a small pond at the back and a few benches with tables paired surrounded it. there was a larger table set up as well with snack and drinks for now, with cups and plates as well and you headed towards it.

“look who decided to join us!” kirishima exclaims loudly with a large smile plastered on his face and swings his arm around your shoulder, around you everyone cheers “you good?” he asks with a quieter tone, knowing it’s only a matter of seconds before everyone else surrounds you.

“yeah, just awfully hungry!” you let out a small laugh when you grab a bag of chips. “when’s dinner anyways?” you turn towards him curiously, knowing your appetite won’t go away till you had eaten a proper dinner.

“in half an hour” kirishima chuckles as he lets go of you (he felt his best friend’s red eyes on him the whole time and he doesn’t want to die anytime soon) and asks if you wanted to join him and the others which you only nod to, mentally preparing to face bakugou after your rather awkward encounter earlier that morning. towards your way to the table, mina stands up to greet you with a hug.

“i hope i didn’t wake you, i tried to be quiet while unpacking.” she says with a grin while rubbing your arms. you shake your head, mirroring her expression and she ushered you to sit down… next to bakugou.

“hi” you quietly greet the grumpy boy with a small smile, trying not to make him feel uncomfortable for pressing against him too much because mina took a seat next to you, sitting too closely. his left hand is resting on the backrest of the bench between you two and he’s only wearing a red wifebeater with black shorts, your thighs press tightly against his and you’re grateful he’s sitting like this because you’re not sure if you could handle being pressed against his hard chest. he only gives you a nod before he drinks from his water battle, his eyes are unreadable, his feature are blank. you must’ve made him upset because even when the two of you weren’t on talking terms, he never acted like this, so close yet so far away from you.

maybe he knows about your crush on him?

before you could overthink, mina turns towards you excitedly with sero and kaminari, asking for your opinion of something. it lead to you easily engaging in a conversation with them nearly forgetting about bakugou sitting next to you, realising that he hasn’t talked since you sat down. maybe he didn’t want to talk with you around?

“i’m gonna go and find ochaco, i’ll talk to you later okay?” you stood up and smiled at your friends as you excused yourself, kirishima looked at you with both brows raised, seemingly returned from somewhere. you only gave him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes but he only gave you a warm one back before turning towards his friends.

you walked towards where uraraka was sitting and when she made eye contact with you her rosy cheeks spread with a smile. you sat down next to her and she excitedly included you on what they were talking about with the dekusquad, feeling the lingering gaze of bakugou’s eyes on you, but you didn’t look at him at all.

bakugou didn’t want you to leave them, he knew he was acting differently and he didn’t talk during your conversation but he missed hearing you. hearing your voice is like a remedy for his aching heart and when you sat down, nearly pressing up against him, it took every ounce of his self control to not pull you close and have you nestled in his arms. like when kirishima had his arms around your shoulders, he so damn wished it was him holding you close like that and that’s why, he’ll ask you to talk to him after dinner.

dinner rolled around and you ate like a madman, snacks can only satisfy your appetite to a certain extent and the food that was served tasted like heaven. you still prefer bakugou’s cooking though. after dinner, a few still remained in their seats while others started to mingle. you were peacefully chatting with uraraka when her eyes jumped up and back down to you and before you could look up, a warm hand gently brushed against your shoulder.

“can we talk?” a deep voice rasps, your eyes look widely at uraraka who in turn only gives you a reassuring smile and you turn around to face bakugou.

“yeah, sure” you nervously smile and you swear your heart will come out of your throat at this rate. the rest of your way towards bakugou’s room is a blur as you follow him, your knees feel wobbly and you could empty your dinner on the floor.

bakugou let’s you in before himself and closes the door after the both of you are inside. it seems like he’s sharing a room with kirishima because the crimson riot blanket is something the redhead would own. that makes you feel a tad bit better and you sit down on kirishima’s bed, fingers finding the soft material of the blanket. bakugou sits down on his bed across from you, leaning back on his hands, vermillion eyes taking you in. his posture makes him look so sure of himself but that’s further away from how he actually feels. bakugou doesn’t know how to talk to you without feeling his heart racing or the tips of his ear turn red and the so called butterflies go wild in his stomach.

you patiently wait for him to start, the floor seems to be a great spot to look at and your leg is bouncing but it all stops when he finally starts talking to you “have i done somethin? you’ve been ignorin’ me lately.” he lowly grumbles, eyes never leaving you.

“i didn’t, no i-“ you don’t even know what to say, too caught off guard by his question. “i wasn’t uh ignoring you” you whisper nervously and you could faint right this instant.

“ya weren’t? ‘cos it felt like it” his voice sounded louder than before and now he leans back up with his arms crossed. “thought we started to get closer ya know” you look up at him when he says that, eyes slightly widen and he’s looking away from you now, pouting. he’ll knew if you lie to him, so you don’t know what to tell him. you’re scared to tell bakugou the truth about your feelings for him because you could ruin everything (you wouldn’t) you have with him.

“i couldn’t be around you knowing you like someone else” the words come out before you could stop them and you quickly cover your face after the realisation hits you. “i’m so dumb, i’m sorry. i know there is no chance of you liking me, like i didn’t even talk to you for years before ua because i was so damn mad, for how you treated izuku. and like i know i didn’t have a reason to, even izuku told me to not be afraid of you, i didn’t know if you’d end up hating me too during middle school. but you’re not a bad person on the inside, i’ve come to learn that and i really like being around you, i’ve realised there isn’t really anyone else for me but you and it hurts how much i need you knowing you don’t want me” you’re sobbing into your hands as the words come out wobbly and you can’t stop them leaving your lips.

it takes bakugou a few minutes to actually understand what you’re saying and he feels relieved knowing you feel the same as him. he quickly gathers his thoughts because you are literally breaking down infront of him and he’s just sitting there pouting like an idiot.

“oi, look at me” he gently pleaded as he kneeled down infront of you, large warm hands attached themselves to your smaller wrist to tug your hands out of his view. when you let him, your eyes are glossy and red, yet he still thinks you’re beautiful. “i- fuck, i was worried you’d never talk me again after how i acted. fuck, i don’t even know what i did to deserve even the smallest moments with ya.” he lets out a dry chuckle, but his eyes never leave yours. “when you started to be more open towards me, as much as i wished to, i didn’t want force myself on you and lose you again. i’ve always known since we were kids that i want to be with you.” his thumbs started to stroke your cheeks as he takes a hold of your face and you look at him bewilderingly from his confession. “and now you’re here tellin’ me what i’ve been craving to hear for years now, it feels fucking insane.” he leans in closer now, looking up at you with love filled eyes, hands wondering down from your face to your hips. “if you’ll have me, i’ll treat you like you deserve. so please have me (y/n)” he’s begging now, he will take whatever pain life throws at him, as long as you’re by his side.

“katsuki..” your voice is small, barely audible as you try to process what is going on, bakugou likes you. it’s you who he likes and he wants to be with you just as much as you want to be with him. “i’ll die if it isn’t you i’m with” you whimper and he pulls you closer to meet your body halfway. one of his hands sneak back up to your cheek and your arms wrap around his neck.

your lips finally meet, moulding perfectly together and it’s quite clumsy since it’s both of your first kiss, but it doesn’t matter. your hand sneaks up into his ash blonde hair to pull him closer to you before he leaves for a second to breath, and then leans back in, both hands now placed on your hips again and pulls you impossibly close. his tongue is licking at your bottom lip to let him in, which you do and completely let go of yourself.

suddenly you feel your back pressed against the soft mattress and bakugou is above you, kissing you like it’s your last one. a hand wanders down your thighs and he pulls away a little to ask for permission and when you lean back up for more, he moves your thigh out of the way and presses himself closer. now with your hips touching, you whimper into the kiss when he ruts into as gently as he can, he pulls away to kiss along your jaw and down to your neck, trying to find that sweet spot of yours. you moan when he kisses where your shoulder and neck meets and he starts to kiss, lick and suck at the spot all at once.

your thighs squeeze his waist as his movement never stop and the repeated actions on your neck doesn’t help either. when bakugou finishes he leaves with a small kiss on the bruising spot and moves back to your lips. the kiss this time is more hungry and hot, but before things could be taken any further, bakugou leans back and moves so you two can see each other.

“let me take you out first, princess” he looks down at you with a soft look and his lips are plump and wet from the kiss.

“okay” you smile wildly at him and he pulls the both of you up so the both of you are sitting up and brings you in his arms.

“i’m so fucking happy that you finally came around, it was worth to wait all these years” he whispers against your ears and you let out a giggle.

“thank you for waiting for me kats” you peck his lips and for the first time ever, bakugou’s face breaks out in a large grin.

(midoriya, uraraka, kirishima and mina were all standing outside the room until the two of you started kissing. they all smiled to each other, feeling happy for their friends and relieved that the two of you finally confessed)

#bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x yn #bnha x reader

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dira333 · 8 months ago

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Don't tease - Tsukishima x reader

A/N: 1k, fluff, requested by @missalienqueen

Tsukishima is going to be the death of you.

“You really wanna do it that way?”

You tense immediately, hoping he’ll leave you alone just once. But to no avail.

“I didn’t think I’ve ever seen a filing system this… creative,” Tsukishima drawls. He’s looming over you, a tall shadow of incessant teasing. Ever since you’ve started working at the museum, he seems to have it out for you. He shows up during your tours, butts in when you get a few hours to yourself to work on your recent thesis and just never leaves you alone.

If he could keep his mouth shut doing so, it would only be half as harrowing, because he’s actually kinda cute - as long as he’s not narrowing his eyes at you like this.

Tsukishima often reminds you of your old principal. That man too had been a pole of judgment, always present at the wrong time. You had hated that man and Tsukishima was beginning to… okay, you weren’t kidding anyone, you could probably never hate Tsukishima. If he isn’t tormenting you, he’s polite and sincere in his work and you can tell by the way he treats the rest of the staff that he can be kind when he wants to.

So why does he treat only you like this?

“Let me do it,” he insists at that moment. “Wouldn’t want you to break a nail from all the hard work.”

Your mouth opens before you even register it. “If you want to work as an Educator instead of a Curator you could have just applied for that position when it was free instead of trying to bully me out of it.”

Tsukishima stiffens. He’s never resembled a pole more than at this moment, all his limbs locked tight to his body as he stares into space. You can’t really tell if his face is turning pale too because your own body is locking up, heat flushing your face as you press a hand to your mouth. You’ve never been this bold before.

“I’m sorry!” You rush out when you can speak again, “I didn’t mean-”

“But you did.” He insists, voice low and… dejected? No, you have to be mistaken.

“I… well… yeah.” You stutter. “I mean… You have it out for me. I don’t know what I did to deserve that treatment, but if you want my job so bad, you should have just applied for it. The position was vacant for months.”

“I don’t want your job,” Tsukishima presses through his teeth. His eyes are looking everywhere but at you. His cheeks are flushed now and you can almost see steam coming from his ears when he adds: “I want you.”

You blink.

You blink again.

Tsukishima pushes himself away from the filing cabinet, his movements stiff and awkward.

“I’m sorry I made you think I was bullying you.” His voice sounds almost unfamiliar.

When he bows you notice how red his neck has gotten.

He really is ashamed.

“You have a weird way of showing that.” Your hands itch to hold onto something. To make sure that this is real.

“I… well…” Tsukishima rubs his neck with one hand, eyes darting across the room. “I’ve been told before that teasing someone instead of clearly communicating could go wrong but I didn’t really believe it. After all, it worked for my… friend.”

“Your friend was probably nicer about it.” You point out, your tongue heavy in your mouth. What are you supposed to do now? Knowing he likes you?

“I… probably.” He swallows thickly, offers you his hand. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

You shake it. The warmth of his skin against yours and the strength of his grip sends a shiver up your back.

He turns, cheeks still pink.

“Well, I’ll… I’ll let you do your work then. I’m sorry I interrupted.”

Tsukishima is almost at the door when you untangle the knot in your tongue, brace against the nervous stutter of your heart.

“You could have just asked me out.”

He swirls around so fast you fear it’s going to give him whiplash. The look on his face is something you want to burn into your brain. It’s the delight of a child mixed with the anxiety of someone who’s been let down before. His eyes narrow immediately like he has to make sure you’re not playing him.

You nod, no longer able to form words.

“So…” He clears his throat. “Are you… free? Tonight?”

You nod again.

A smile lights up his face, boyish and bright. Your heart stops for a second before it hammers at twice its usual speed. Tsukishima is going to be the death of you.

Tsukishima is going to be the death of you.

“You really wanna do it that way?”

You nod, typing away. Behind you, the cushions of your shared couch rustle as he maneuvers around. He leans onto you, heavy and warm, face pressed into your neck.

“But I want to cuddle.” Tsukishima drawls.

“And I want to finish this thesis. You told me I would have more than enough time today.”

“And you will. You just have to cuddle first.”

You try to send him a glare, but his face is hidden away in your hair.

“Tsukishima!”

“Kei,” he corrects you immediately.

“Tsukki,” you compromise and he groans.

“If someone would let me focus, I’d be finished in half an hour and then we could cuddle.”

He huffs. “You’re no fun.”

“You’re not either.”

“Fine.” He gets up. His tone is all snappy, but he winks at you to let you know he doesn’t mean it. He still might be infuriating and annoying, but he’s gotten way better at communicating when he’s actually mad and when he’s just playing for cuddles.

“What are you doing?” You ask when he stalks toward the bedroom.

“I’m going to put on my cutest outfit. We’ll see if that convinces you.”

“Take your time!” You call after him as you pick up your typing. “And send a picture to Yamaguchi when you’re done. I’m sure he’ll appreciate seeing you in the Dino-Onesie he bought you.”

He sends you one last glare.

You return to your document, surprised to realize that all you’ve left to do is write the last paragraph. If you keep at it, you’ll be finished before the Onesie is zipped up.

With a confident grin you pick up speed.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #Tsukishima x reader #Tsukishima Kei #Tsukishima fluff #Tsukishima drabble #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!

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innieandsungielover · 9 months ago

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A/N: This is my first ever fic that I'm posting on this account, or on skz in general, so I hope you guys like it! My inbox is open, so hit me up ig?

Pairing: Bully-ish!Hyunjin x afab!Reader (enemies to lovers)

18+ minors dni!!!

CW: Unprotected sex, oral (fem! receiving), cum eating, fucking in a public area, but no one comes inside!

WC: 3.3k

Love is a fickle thing, it always starts with an infatuation. You constantly think about them, yearn for them, cry for them. Surround yourself with the things they like in hopes of finding something in common.

You never felt you could find this sense of attraction. You watched as people fell in and out of love, but for you, it was just a figment of your imagination.

There was only one time you were close enough to “love” someone, but instead of the feeling of contentment, it was one of hatred. You were infatuated with him, but not in the way that most would be, you could only see the negative, blinded by hatred for the man in front of you.

He was in your art class, while you worked with clay pieces, he worked with watercolors. Everyone was in awe of his work, especially your professor.

There were always subtle tones of love in every one of his paintings. It was his main emotion, his main drive, and it was truly beautiful.

The first time you ever saw one of his paintings was when you accidentally stumbled upon it, it being left in the classroom to dry as he went to go get coffee.

You were working on one of your structures, an entangled face that showed a range of emotions. It was something that you wanted to achieve to show the complexity of the human mind, of emotions, but you ended up getting distracted by his painting.

You stood in front of it for what felt like hours, looking over each brush stroke, each blend of color, it was beautiful. You hadn’t realized you were crying, a few tears wetting your cheek until Hyunjin was in front of you holding out a tissue.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry” you tripped over your words as you took the tissues from his hand, thanking him. “It’s no problem, I’m actually very grateful”

“And why is that?” you asked, dabbing the tissue at your tear ducts.“My work has never brought someone to tears” he grinned, taking a sip of his iced americano, the condensation of the drink ran down his cup like your tears just moments prior.

“I don’t know how it hasn’t, the way you depict love is truly extraordinary, I’ve yet to see anything like it before. It isn’t even your form of painting, nor the medium, but the way you can feel the emotion pouring through the artist into their art is magnificent”

“Such high praise from the teacher’s pet, what did I do to deserve this?” he chuckled, sitting back at his easel, playing with the brushes in the palm of his hand.

“I’m not the teacher's pet” you glared at him, hating the way your voice stuttered as you spoke out against his accusations. “You most definitely are” he rolled his eyes, causing your eyebrows to furrow, “how else are you affording all your materials while others have much crappier ones? T-E-A-C-H-E-R’S P-E-T” he stated, enunciating every note at the end of his sentence.

You glared at him, not feeling the need to prove yourself against his harmful words. No longer wanting to be belittled, you turned around, the clay that was previously stuck to your hands cracking.

You tried to ignore him, truly, but every time you thought you were no longer going to see his face, there he appeared.

At first, it was at your job, he would come at least three times a day, getting his daily Iced Americano fix.

“Isn’t it unhealthy to drink more than one of these a day?” you asked, it was slower today so you had time to talk to him as he paid.

“Wow, she speaks!” he exclaimed, slowly pulling out his card. “I thought you were taking a vow of silence seeing as every time you don’t even ask me what I want. I thought customer service helps you keep your job?” he joked, tilting his head to the side.

“Well, my manager said it was okay to ignore dicks, so I think that’s what I’m doing!” you grinned, using your ‘customer service voice’ as he just rolled his eyes at you.

“You would love to see my dick” he whispered, coming closer to the register so only you could hear him.

Through a smile, you muttered, “If it’s anything like your personality, I bet it’s disgusting and nothing special!”

He just tsked at you, walking away as someone had finally entered the little coffee place, coming up to the register to place their order.

The next place was in your own apartment. You had no idea that your roommate, Felix, was close friends with the devil incarnate.

“Why does he have to come over?” you whined, your body clad in overalls and a tank top as you took a bite of the warm brownie that he had made to help bring you to the “dark side”.

As you took another bite, you didn’t realize the chocolate that was oozing out of the fudgy dessert, getting on the corner of your mouth.

“He’s my best friend, plus I don’t know why you don’t like him. He’s like so nice to everyone, not to mention isn’t he your type? I do remember you loooove tall guys, people who are into are, and love reading. He checks all of your boxes babe” he giggled, watching as you glared at him, cheeks filled with the brownies he made you.

“That doesn’t forgo him being one of the worst people I’ve ever met like he’s such a fucking asshole” you groaned, taking a sip of milk.

“Hey! That “asshole” happens to be my best friend, so don’t talk about him like that or I’m cutting you off!”

For such a small and kind dude, he sure had a fiery side to him. You simply nodded your head, lowering it in defeat, allowing him to pet it.

He began to coo at you as he stroked your hair back. “Look at you being such a good roommate” he giggled, feeding you more of the brownie, which you happily accepted.

“Now I have to go shower, so if he comes, please open the door for him and make him feel a bit welcome?” Lixie grinned at you, bopping your nose as you nodded your head, not wanting to be a nuisance to your friend.

You scrolled on your phone, your legs hitting the cabinets underneath the counter you were currently situated on before you heard the jingle of the door knob. Before you could even jump down, the door opened itself, Hyunjin in front of it key in hand.

“Felix, I can’t wait to tell you about this–” he cut himself off as he saw you, legs jangling off of the kitchen counter, phone in one hand, brownie in the other.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you a stalker or something?” he groaned, placing his stuff on the couch, only for his hands to cross over his body, trying to prove a point.

“I live here, Felix is my roommate and I’m going back to my room,” you said as kindly as you possibly could, not wanting to upset Lix after he politely asked you not to be a dick.

“I don’t believe it, you want me that bad you made up an entire scheme to try and sleep with me, I mean I know I’m irresistible, but still that’s a new low.”

Before he could continue spewing nonsense, you took his hand dragging it to your room. You opened the door allowing him to look inside. Your bra on the floor, your bed made but a bit crumpled from sitting on it earlier, and pictures of you and your friends littering the walls.

“Is this enough proof for you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side waiting for his response.

Instead, he took your face in the palm of his hand, his thumb first stroking your chin then slowly shifting down to the corner of your lip. He pulled you a bit closer, your eyes roaming his face, and your breath was caught in your throat. You thought he was going to kiss you, he pulled away with a laugh.

“What a loser, you had chocolate all over your face while trying to talk to me. Aren’t you the least bit embarrassed?” he grinned, placing the thumb that was just rubbing at the corner of your lip into his mouth, savoring the taste.

“You mean nothing to me, so why would I care?” you shrugged, taking your wallet in your hand before slowly moving away from your dorm frame to the entrance of your apartment.

“Tell Felix I’m not going to be back for dinner” With that you left, leaving Hyunjin dumbfounded in the middle of your apartment.

He was just trying to play hard to get, but you were still not getting it. Did you not notice that he went out of his way to go to the coffee shop that was out of his way, only on days you were working? How he spent hours in the classroom with you just to hear what song you were obsessed with that week, it was like you were oblivious to his infatuation with you. You couldn’t be that dumb, could you?

The last and most hated place to see him was the studio. It was your sanctuary, sure your room meant a lot to you, your own private space, but while working on your art, everything was basically white noise.

From the moment you put on your headphones, you are lost in a trance. The only thing on your mind is the piece in front of you and how you could make it better from the last.

You were so immersed in your work, that you didn’t realize that Hyunjin had entered the room, working on his own piece.

Almost an hour had passed as the two of you sat working on your respective pieces. What you didn’t notice was that he was on the phone. You could see his lips moving, but you didn’t think much of it, partly because you didn’t care enough, and the other half was because your favorite song was playing and you had forgotten about him.

It wasn’t until your headphones died that you finally heard the words leaving his mouth.

“She’s so fucking cute, but I don’t know how she hasn’t noticed that I like her yet. Like why else would I go to her coffee shop 3 times a day Felix? And don’t say it’s because I have a coffee addiction, I know that, but I only go there to see her. And fuck, did you see her at Bin’s party, that short skirt I thought I was going to cum right there and then. How difficult is it for her to see that I like her?” he groaned, covering his face with his hands.

You didn’t even realize that you dropped your bowl of water until he looked up at you, your eyes meeting his. Before you could properly react, he quickly hung up the phone, walking towards you.

You didn’t even realize, but you had started to run away, but you had nowhere to hide. You squatted down, trying to shield your body from him, but it only allowed him to come closer to you.

“You heard what I said, didn’t you?” he asked as he crouched down to meet your height.

You didn’t respond, instead just nodding your head, which caused him to groan. He slowly pulled your hands away from your face, his hand on your chin.

“I like you” he whispered, his face coming closer to yours. “Okay?” you responded, your voice quieter than his.

“Let me show you” and with that, he captured your lips with his, pulling your body closer to him. Your lips were working in tandem as he wrapped your legs around his torso, your hands flying to the back of his neck, allowing him to pick you up.

He pulled both of your bodies up, leading you to the closest desk, not allowing the two of you to break your kiss. His tongue licking at the seam of your mouth, begging for an entrance.

You allowed it, your breaths getting heavier as he pushed his cock into the seam of your leggings, the room filled with your whimpers as he pressed deeper into you, allowing you to feel the hardness of him through his jeans.

He slowly pulled away, a trail of spit connecting the two of you. “Fuck” you whined as he slowly pulled down your leggings, the cool air causing goosebumps to riddle your legs and arms.

“Look at this pretty little cunt” he whispered, admiring the way your lips pushed against the cotton of your underwear. “Can’t wait to eat it” he grinned, tearing off your underwear causing you to shout.

“Hyunjin what the fuck, I never said you could do that?” but you were cut off by the feeling of his plush lips against your clit, lapping away. Your hands instantaneously grasped his hair, pushing him deeper into you, allowing the only thought on his mind to be your pussy.

You moaned as he continued lapping at it, learning every curve, where you loved being touched. He wanted to understand you, know what made you tick, he wanted to make you his.

He slowly brought his hand up to your cunt, his finger teasing your hole before slowly pushing it inside of you. “Do you like that baby?” he whispered into your cunt, the vibration on your clit causing your eyes to roll back.

“Feels so good” you whimpered as you lowered yourself, your back hitting the table.

He didn’t want to stop until he made you cum in his mouth, he needed to taste you after chasing you for months. He slowly added another finger, thrusting it inside of your soaking hole, his other hand grabbing your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

“Gonna cum Jinnie” you whimpered, your high being near. As soon as the word Jinnie left your lips, he felt like he was going to cum, the sound of you moaning his name was ringing in his ears and he needed to hear it again and again.

“Fuck baby, gonna cum, gonna cum on my fingers like a good girl?”

“Yes, gonna cum for Jinnie” you whimpered, your orgasm taking control of your body, it twitching under the feeling of his fingers continuously thrusting into you, hitting that spongey spot in your repeatedly.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on” he whispered, kissing your lips once again.

You could feel his cock pressing onto your thigh, it protruding through his jeans and all you could think about was making him feel good.

“Want to make you feel good Jinnie” you whined, pulling away from his lips as your hands frantically went to his jeans, pulling them down to try and get access to his cock. There was a slight wet patch on his boxers, which made you whimper.

“Please, need it” you whined, your hands trailing to your cunt, spreading your lips apart to show him how wet you were for him.

“You are going to kill me baby” he grinned, pulling his boxers down, allowing his cock to hit his stomach. Your eyes looked at him in fear when you saw his size. He was long and thick, bigger than everyone you’ve ever been with.

“Don’t tell me you are scared” he chuckled, running the tip of his cock along your folds, capturing your wetness along his tip. You shook your head, trying to prove to him that you weren’t.

“It’s okay baby, I’ll go slow, let me get a condom” But before he could even reach into his jeans to get his wallet, you stopped him. “It’s okay, I’m on the pill, please need to feel all of you Jinnie”

Who was he to say no to your cute pleading face, so he slowly pushed the tip of his cock into you, causing the two of you to moan. You at the feeling of your cunt being stretched out, and him at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock.

His cock was so deep inside of you, you felt like you could cum from just his cock resting inside of you.

“Fuck baby, your pussy is taking me so well, wish we did this before instead of all this bickering, it’s like you were made for me.” he moaned while slowly beginning to thrusting into you, making sure he wasn’t going to fast.

To ensure your comfort, and to get you closer to your high because he knew he wasn’t going to last long, he began playing with your clit. “Jinnie feels so good, you are so deep inside of me” you whimpered.

He took it as a sign to start thrusting into you deeper. Each thrush hits your g-spot perfectly. With the stimulation of his finger on your clit, you couldn’t do it anymore. You started clenching down on him harder and harder.

Your cunt was locking him in and all he could do was groan. The final push was when he moaned directly into your ear. You came all over his cock letting your moans hit his ear. He pulled out of you stroking his cock “Where do you want me to cum baby?” he whined, feeling close.

“I want it in my mouth” you begged and that was all he needed. He slowly lifted your body from the table as you fell to your knees in front of him, allowing him to push his cock into your mouth.

He shoved it deep inside, causing you to deep-throat it, and came straight down your throat. “Fuck, I can’t believe we didn’t do that sooner.” he grinned.

“It’s all your fault, you were the bully” you whined, trying to find your leggings to pull over your body since the room had gotten significantly cooler.

“We should get dressed though, we don’t need anyone else to know what we just did” he looked around frantically, a worried look on his face, causing you to laugh.

“You just fucked me on a desk, and now you are scared?”

“Yes, because I had this whole plan of taking you out to dinner, and buying you this really pretty dress I saw that I thought looked perfect for you and everything” he pouted.

He looked adorable like this, and you couldn’t believe it was the same man that made your life a living hell, that was now in front of you causing you to coo at his jutted lip.

“You are so cute” you mumbled, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. Maybe love starts off different for everyone.

_____

You walked into your apartment, hand in hand. A grin splayed on his face as you fought with him about how drinking iced americanos more than twice a day was crazy, and how his heart was going to stop.

The two of you didn’t even realize that Felix was in your living room until the two of you heard an “I fucking knew it!”

He was whooping and hollering around your apartment. “I knew it was going to start with this enemies-to-lover type shit and then boom y’all are going to fuck”

Before the two of you could even utter a single word, he stopped you by continuing. “Please tell me it wasn’t on our shared couch though, it doesn’t need to be fucked on a second time”

“You what!” you looked at him with fury in your eyes, Hyunjin just laughed at the spectacle playing out in front of him, damn he loved you.

#gia writes!#skz smut #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #straykids smut #straykids x reader #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader

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