#and if i make the top one my pfp????? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

strafepanzer · 7 months ago

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shoot your shot

k.bakugo | collab intro + m.list

▸ ▸ ▸ warnings: 18+! prohero!bakugo, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, alcohol, dubcon if you really squint

▸ ▸ ▸ wc: idk dude sorry

▸ ▸ ▸ a/n: hbd king! make sure to check out the other writers on the m.list and enjoy!!!

Among the thousands of replies, your pfp caught his eye.

anyone will do, huh?

Bakugo reads over the words a few times. Sure, his alcohol-induced thirst trap selfie was… out of character, but this from you?

Surely, it's an impossibility. He rubs his eyes and falls back into the black, plush leather of his couch, clicking your profile and scrolling through it. You're the quiet girl with the nice tits from insurance, the only person at the agency that he has anything remotely akin to a crush on.

You were there tonight in electric orange and black, stuffed into a booth with the other agency girls; your group sporadically sent him drinks-- those damn daiquiris-- and judging from the laughter pouring out of your booth, you all enjoyed watching him down them.

The one and only Dynamight downing bitch drinks? Hilarious, apparently.

The night got hazy, but he vaguely remembers getting you one-on-one at some point, remembers flashes of your smile, runs of your laughter, and your birthstone pendant hanging on a gold chain just below your collar bone.

Your delicate fingers on his forearm.

His teeth grind together, nostrils flaring as he reads over your words again, fingers flexing before he gropes his bulge. Your voice, seemingly teasing, rings through his brain melodically, but no matter how hard he closes his eyes, he can't remember the interaction.

What did you two talk about? Were you flirting with him? Fuck, did he miss his chance? If he concentrates, he can see the shimmer of your lipgloss reflecting the neon lights in that shitty bar, but everything else is radio silence.

A ding, then a notification flags across the top of his screen: 1 Photo Attached. He taps it and bites his bottom lip.

You're smiling at the camera, winking and throwing up a peace sign in front of expensive looking double doors. Familliar double doors. He recognises the gold embellishments and black glass tinted so dark, its impossible to see through from the outside.

A selfie in front of his apartment building.

Another sound and,

Typing…

Appears in the chat. He feels stupid just waiting, but if you're really coming onto him, he needs to not scare you away.

gonna buzz me up, mr hero?

He's on his feet at an almost embarrassing speed, unlocking the front door and sending you his floor and room number in the chat.

Then, he paces, pours himself a glass of water, and waits.

Your knock is faint, and he wonders if you've sobered up some, briefly hesitating at the doorknob. He looks through his spyhole and sees you looking this way and that, shifting nervously and fiddling with your hair.

He tugs the door open and leans against it, eyes staring you down. You blink and take a short breath, eyes scanning his naked torso, briefs, muscular thighs--

He clears his throat. "You look nervous."

Your eyes on his leave him a little starstruck. Sure, youre pretty to admire from afar, but up close? He's stupid for getting wasted and forgetting what he said to you.

"Liquid courage has thoroughly worn off." You agree with a nod and a nervous yet dazzling smile.

Fuck, he's so done for.

"Just to be clear, you hit me up." Bakugo says, opening the door and giving you space to enter. "I'm not holding you here against your will."

"What? No, yeah, I totally take the blame on this, one million percent." You agree, stepping into his apartment. He watches your ass in that tight dress as you walk past him, savours the scent of your perfumed skin while you're in his vicinity. "I just thought-- oh my gods," you turn to face him, embarrassed. "This is ridiculous, isn't it? I thought you were like... sending me signals at the bar."

He probably was, but he cant fucking remember.

He gestures for you to follow him into the living room. "I was wasted."

"You grabbed my ass and called me sexy." You laugh, kicking off your heels before stepping onto his carpet.

"Fat fuckin chance, sugar tits." He grumbles, embarrassed by his drunken antics, but then you're grabbing his hand and tugging him back half a step. Before he can even gasp, your lips are on his, your hands pulling him down to you, your tongue running along his lips.

"Yeah, you called me that, too." You breathe, nose to nose as you stare into his eyes.

His hands finally find your waist. "I didn't think you'd be this forward."

"This is how forward you were with me at the bar." You frown then, head tilting to the side. "You honestly don't remember? Now I feel like a predator."

He laughs, then, something full bodied and joyous. "Trust me, sweetheart, you're the prey here."

All logical thinking flies out the window the moment his lips meet yours again. Your bag drops to the floor as he devours you, hands bunching up that little orange dress at your waist and lifting you to wrap your legs over his hips.

You moan when he grinds his length up against you. "Oh my god, are we doing this?" You ask, his mouth assaulting your neck, littering it with kisses and nips as he walks you to his bedroom.

"It's my birthday," he rasps, revelling in the taste of you, the feel of you. It's one thing coveting something, but it's another to finally have it in your hands.

"Happy Birthday, Katsuki." You kiss him on the top of his head, wrapping your arms a little tighter around his neck.

"Being cute isn't gonna make me go any easier on you." He promises, dropping you onto his bed. You just laugh and pull your dress over your head, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra.

"I came prepared to go down on you, but this kinda feels like you want a little more from me." You admit as he tugs off his briefs and covers you with his body.

"What gave you that idea?" He grins, palming your tits and dragging those battle worn hands down your soft torso to rest at your hips. "You sure you're okay with this?"

"What? Yes." You breathe, reaching down to ghost your fingers over his throbbing cock. He hisses before you grip it properly, with purpose, and begin pumping him slowly with your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Fuck," he curses softly, making light work of your panties and kissing you, bucking instinctually up into your hands. "I need to be inside you," he demands huskily, biting down on your lip and looking into your eyes for permission.

"Y-yeah, I want it," you nod feverishly as his fingers test your wet heat, rubbing and probing before sliding in.

"Shit," he huffs as you throw your head back, his fingers exploring you and stretching you out. "Fuck, I can't wait, are you good to go?"

"Stop talking and fuck me, Katsuki," you moan, laying there with your chest heaving and lipstick smudged.

His hands grope your thighs, pushing them up and opening yourself to him. With a curse at the tip of his tongue and his teeth in his bottom lip, he lines himself up and pushes forward.

"Oh--" you moan, before your hand slaps over your mouth.

Bakugo let's you silence yourself while he adjusts to the toe tingling feeling of being inside you. It's heavenly, but it feels like sinning. He pulls back a little before pushing forward, notices your free hand fisting his scarlet sheets beside your head.

After a few more testing thrusts and he stills inside you, his body covers yours, those big, calloused hands drawing up your forearms to interlock your fingers beside your head.

"I wanna hear you cry while I ruin you, pretty girl. You okay with that?" He asks lowly, voice almost a growl.

"Fuck, oh fuck, Katsuki it's so big," you babble, bordering incoherent already.

A feral grin grows on his face. He's gonna fuck you stupid.

"It's okay, baby, you can take it, I know you can," he mumbles condescendingly, kissing your nose gently, then your lips. "As a present, for my birthday."

He can't wait any longer, hips rocking into you, shallowly grinding, searching for that spot deep inside you that makes you moan. You're already gasping, eyes watering as your mouth hangs open, fingers flexing in his grip as your chest starts to heave.

You really are gorgeous like this, panting and wanton beneath him. Ideally, he'd make you cum a few times before he does, but he's been half mast all fucking week, and he really can't wait to fill you up.

"Sorry, baby, I can't hold back anymore." He kisses you deeply, before letting go of your hands and pushing your legs up, hands gripping the backs of your knees, then bruising at your thighs.

He licks his lips, pulls out, and hammers back in. You yelp, but he does it again, setting a pace that wouldn't be sustainable for your average man. It boosts his ego that he's gonna ruin other people for you, but the little breathy ohmygodkatsukifuck that leaves your lips while you scratch at his back is probably going to ruin other women for him.

Shit, your smell, the way you taste and feel-- you're sucking him back in when he tries to pull out, pussy hellbent on milking him before he's done with you. He kisses you while he fucks you, sloppy and messy and wet, and in moments you're a howling mess.

He swallows your cries as your whole body tenses, but he doesn't let himself cum with you, fucking you through it instead.

"Nonononononono..." you mutter, fingernails digging into his traps as you shake your head, pushing him away. "Stop stop, I'm gonna--"

Bakugo's heart flutters, grin feral. "Gonna what? Gonna what?" He grits, continuing to fuck you.

"Gonna-- hnghh!" You tense again, and as he fucks back into you, hot, wet squirt splashes against his groin, dripping all over the both of you and darkening those scarlet sheets maroon.

"Oh shit," he breathes, the feeling of it, the sight of you, the sound of his wet skin slapping against yours sending him over the edge as he fucks his cum into you, filling you up.

You're still mumbling incoherent nonsense when he collapses on top of you, your hands over your face in what he comes to realise is mortification.

"I'm s'sorry, oh my god, what was that? I'm so embarrassed, I--"

"Hey hey hey, are you crying?" He frowns prying your fingers from your face.

"I wet the bed in front of you!" You almost shriek, but he's just glad you're not crying. "Not just any guy, but you!"

"Yeah, and it was the hottest thing ever." He grins, feeling calm for the first time in a long time. "Fuck, I don't even care how the PR team are gonna react; getting you to squirt on me makes it worth it. I'm guessing you don't do that often?"

"Often? I never do that."

"Baby, that was hot as hell." He kisses you, then rolls over, bringing you with him.

"Happy Birthday, I guess?" You smile then, resting on his chest, drawing a finger over one of his more jaggered scars. "You don't remember what you said to me at the bar, do you?"

"I remember your tits?" He shrugs, still riding that post-orgasmic high. You laugh, and when you don't elaborate, he taps your chin so you look up at him. "What did I say?"

You start getting a little shy again. "You asked me on a date, said you were gonna take me somewhere, anywhere I want."

"I did, did I?"

"Mm, then you kissed me and claimed it was your birthday present from me."

"Fuck off," he chuckles then, embarrassed. "What a loser."

"Then I saw your... proposition online..." You mumble, eyes back on that scar.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm deleting that post, but my offer to you still stands."

"Even though you don't remember making it?"

"Baby, I just filled you with my cum, and I'm feeling like I'd like to do it again real fuckin soon. And maybe even again after that." He pulls you closer, so you're straddling him properly, your lips hovering over his. "If you'll let me."

"I don't know if that's your twisted way of asking me out or if you're looking for a fuck buddy." You pout.

"You wanna be my girlfriend?" He asked, slightly shocked at the thought. Shocked, but not against it.

"Yeah, I do." You smile, that so pretty smile.

"Well shit, when are you moving in?" He asks, half joking.

You laugh, kissing him on the cheek. "Shut up, do you mean it? You really wanna date me?"

"Yeah, I do." He says, heart hammering in his chest.

"Good, thats-- that's good."

"It is, isn't it? Now that we have that outta the way," he sits up, keeping you in his lap. "Round 2 in the shower?"

"You'll have to carry me, I still can't feel my legs." You smile.

"Maybe the bitch drinks weren't such a bad idea, after all." Bakugo grins, pulling you close in a slow, deliberate kiss.

#bakugo x reader #bakugo birthday bash #hbd king

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punkitt-is-here · 1 year ago

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Read These Frequently Asked Questions Before You Send An Ask!

Patreon | Ko-Fi | Youtube

Heyo! I get a TON of asks each day, so I'm making this post so that folks know what's already been asked so my followers don't have to see the same stuff over and over, haha.

Hi! I'm Punkitt! I'm a game developer, artist, editor, director, and a bunch of other stuff! I'm working on an RPG called Astral Guard, a platformer called Susan Taxpayer, and I have a couple more fun projects in my pocket like Happup and Super Mario Death Row.

Did you know you look like weird al?

YES jesus fucking christ i get told this every day. if u send me a message in my inbox saying i look like weird al im killing you with like wizard spells and shit.

Why do you have so many hats? Do you know you have that many hats?

ye i like hats. :) free tumblr badges for one pea i like one piece and took as many as i could. free.

Where can I find your art/game development/horsecomix?

Great question! Everything I make that's my own and not a reblog is under "my posts", every bit of art I do is under "my art", any game development I do is under "gamedev", you can find all my MLP art under "mlp, my art" or "horsecomix" for the best stuff. I also have an "animations" tag and a "shitposts" tab. I also properly tag all my asks to be asks and write out the asker's name, so if you don't wanna see those just mute the ask tag.

Do you have a Patreon or a Ko-Fi?

I do have a ko-fi here! I also JUST launched a Patreon, which you can find here :)

What do you use for your art?

I use FireAlpaca and Paint.net for misc. effects!

What are you using to make your games?

I use FireAlpaca do make my assets! Astral Guard, Happup, and any other top-down RPG games I make are all made in RPGMaker 2003. Susan Taxpayer is made in SMBX2 Beta 4, a Mario fangame engine with lua support!

Why are you using a 2-decade-plus engine to make games?

It's fun!

Do you have a sideblog or something for your art?

Not right now! What you see is what you get. I do have a sideblog for Astral Guard though, if you want to follow that game specifically! @astral-guard

Can I make an OC based on your work? ABSOLUTELY!!!!!!! THATS THE COOLEST THING EVER!!!! LET ME KNOW IF YOU DO!!!! I WANNA SEE!!!!

Can I do dubs/redraws of your comics? As long as you credit me! I get a ton of notifs each day, so if you wanna show me (and PLEASE i so do wanna see fun dubs and redraws!!!) tag me or DM me!

Can I use your art as a PFP? Sure! Just credit me somewhere. :D

Are you the one who trapped her coworkers in a room and made them listen to TF2 lore?

Yep! Everyone had a blast actually. :]

Did you make that comic where Fluttershy eats the weed brownie/Rainbow Dash has a male living space/someone has a cutie mark that says they'll kill Ronald Reagan?

Yep! That's me.

Where are you in MLP right now?

Currently just finished Season 7! Haven't watched the movie yet.

Have you watched Equestria Girls?

Yep! Thought it was super cute. I watched up to Rainbow Rocks and plan on watching more.

What's your opinion on MLP so far?

I love it! I think it's cute. I really don't agree that there was some sort of huge quality drop after season 2 or whatever.

What do you think of G5?

Not my style! I don't really like either animation types and it just seems like I'm not in the audience anymore. That's totally chill, but it just doesn't grab me!

Have you watched any other MLP stuff from previous generations?

Nope! But I did see a compilation called Minty Being Autistic for Six Minutes Straight that I loved. she's perfect.

Favorite pony?

Don't got one, I love all the Mane Six a LOT, but I'm particularly fond of Fluttershy, Applejack, and Rarity!

Favorite episode/season?

I'm so bad at picking favorites! But any season past Season 1 I have a blast with because I feel like it's just more my style. I don't have a favorite episode, but the most recent one I can remember LOVING is the one where Starlight bottles up her emotions because it was REALLY funny.

Do you like Pony.mov?

Nope! And stop saying my stuff reminds you of it, it's a lil annoying!

Have you watched the Mentally Advanced Series/Friendship is Witchcraft/Other fandom vids?

Probably not! My interaction with the MLP fandom prior to last year was pretty minimal, so I'm making my way through the show first!

What do you think of Fallout: Equestria?

I think it's super weird but really fun because of that. I've never properly read any of it but it's very fascinating to me.

Are you transgender?

Yep! I go by she/her, I'm a trans woman. Have been for many years, but I only recently came out online!

Are you a lesbian?

Nah, I'm bisexual!

Can I commission you?

Yeah! I only have my commissions available on my Ko-Fi at certain times though, so keep an eye out! I usually announce slots being open at least 12 hours beforehand. Slots are usually first come first serve, but we'll see.

Can I use your art as a Discord emote?

Yeah man i'm not scouring every discord on the planet to find stickers of my work. i think it owns if people take my stuff and make it stupid injoke emotes between friends that makes me very happy.

Can I send you an ask inquiring about gender dysphoria?

I feel like this is beyond my capabilities of advice! I'm actually very comfortable with my body and I have been for many years, so I don't know if I can give any good or helpful advice on that front. Apologies, but there are many resources out there where you can ask about those things if you look for them, like Discord channels!

Favorite Color?

I'm a sucker for blue!

Favorite coffee?

Can't drink coffee, my stomach is cringe.

Favorite tea?

I'm lame and can't drink most tea but I love this one orange-flavored tea a lot. I also LOVE ice tea.

Can I say you're horsegender/punkittgender/a little gender goblin void thing?

Well, I can't stop you, but I'm kind of beyond that phase now! I really am a boring ol' plain she/her girl, and I like it that way. It's not much, but it's honest gender.

What's your favorite game series?

Mother, Kingdom Hearts, Mario, and I USED to say Fallout, but I found out I'm really only a big Fallout New Vegas fan.

Favorite game from those?

Mother 3 is one of my fave games of all time! I love KHII, and I'm tied for SMB3 and SMW. Also Fallout New Vegas fucks hard.

Any other favs?

Bug Fables, SLARPG, and TF2!

Favorite Movie?

Everything Everywhere All At Once, no question.

Oh, are you going to college?

Yep! I'm a film/theater major.

Do you have a YouTube channel?

Yeah! Click right here for it, I stream there and upload footage of my games/animations/my film projects + other stuff.

What is that little orange creature I see?

That's bweenop, my little persona that I use when I'm feeling a little scrunkly.

Do you have a ponysona?

Yep! Her name is Star Magnolia, you can search her on the blog to see art of her.

When will Susan Taxpayer/Astral Guard/etc. be out?

No clue! I take things slow, that's just how I am.

How do you work on so many things at once?

I make small, satisfying amounts of progress! I never try to complete one giant thing all at once, I just like doing small bursts of fun stuff. I got ADHD, so I learn to work with it.

Did you know you look like Weird Al?

Im going to run you over with a clown car watch out

WHY do you work on so many things at once?

Fun! I like learning, I like making cool stuff, and I like showing it to people :)

Do you need any help with your projects?

Potentially! I'll probably put out a post asking for help if I need it.

If you could be a horse, would you?

You kidding me? Several ton beasts with the frailty of a sickly Victorian boy; my clumsy ass would never survive.

Are you some sort of...furry?

yeag

Why do you reblog so much?

Brother I LOVE posting. that's just how it is.

Fav music artists?

It changes literally ALL the time but I will recommend ANYTHING by Vylet Pony, its music is incredible and probably the reason I'm a weird niche microcelebrity now.

Why are you like this?

theater kid + having a lot of fun on the internet makes you a bit silly hehe hoo

SUSAN TAXPAYER QUESTIONS

Is it out? Not yet! But hopefully sometime in the next year. I dunno! I take things at my own pace and keep stuff fun. :)

What are you using to make it? SMBX2! It's a free fangame engine for Mario episodes, but it's incredibly versatile and has a wonderful community, so I decided to make Susan Taxpayer in it.

Is there a demo? You betcha! You can find it right here. I'll also probably put it up on my itch.io.

How do I install it? I made a post here about how to run the SAGE '23 demo!

#FAQ #my posts #punkitt FAQ #announcement

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fleuraimer · 2 months ago

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i NEED to hear your thoughts on reader's arguments with boxer!carmy. what's their first argument about? who usually caves first?

you, anon, are a hero and a scholar and are about to receive the greatest blurb in the history of the the tumblr industry (pls someone understand this reference 😭😭)

BUT IT ALL SERIOUSNESS, this is fucking gold; i love you for sending this.

tw!! ooooohh they get into it yall. carmen being a man (ik, i’m sorry). some suggestive content. happy ending.

bf boxer!carmy and reader fighting!!

concept 1. concept 2. bf boxer!carmy hcs.

ok, so, me thinks bf boxer!carmy and his pretty broad actually argue a lot. so often it teeters just on the edge of being unhealthy. but, they also know each other and realize they’re two petty asf ppl (😭😭). so, even though they argue often, it’s usually over stupid shit, or their little fears (like who was supposed to wash the dishes that night, or how carmy’s profession holds a great deal of power over his life, enough to take it away—

she tries hard not to think about it too much; that argument is a losing game).

if carmy’s being frank, it’s half the reason he’s so fucking obsessed in love with her. she’s feisty—she’s trouble, and carmy’s never been good at staying out of it, even before he was the one starting the fights.

however…

when they fight—oh boy! do they fight.

i’d like to think bf boxer!carmy has a hugeeeee jealousy problem (lil insecure loser ☹️🫶🏽), and so that’s usually how their more heated fights begin.

i think their very first BIG fight has to do with a mix of his jealousy issue and the nature of how their relationship came to be.

allow me to set the scene:

so carmy wins the fight against timmy boy (surprise??) and starts talking to his pretty broad, finds out her and timmy aren’t exclusive, just messing around, and takes the green light.

a few weeks go by and everything is going smoothly—you know, the usual, extravagant dates and expensive gifts, lots of pampering and affection from both ends; the rose-hued, honeymoon stage—and carmy invites her as his plus one to some big party/event for his job.

he knocks on the front door of her apartment at 7:15 pm on the dot with a stunning bouquet—baby’s breath and lilies and anemones—of flowers in his right hand. he’s dressed to the nines; a fitted black tux—double breasted, with peak lapels, and slightly high-waisted trousers—and a brown dress-shirt, first thee to four buttons undone (whore 🥸) with a black chiffon, nearly iridescent slip over it that makes that same brown look an earthy, rich green at a swift glance. one gold bracelet, one gold ring for each hand (middle and pinky fingers), his unnecessarily attractive little gold hoop earrings, and a simple gold crucifix hangin’ ‘round his neck.

he raps his busted knuckles against the door with his left hand, and then patiently leans against the frame and awaits the telltale sign of her heels against the hardwood floors.

he counts to seventeen before her front door is swinging open.

the first thing he notices is that smile (that smile, the one she only ever gives to him—not eddie (god forbid), or nacho, or benny, or fucking timmy—just him). pearly whites, with bow and cherry gems (i loveeee teeth gems if my pfp didn’t make that clear), on display, framed by those plump, painted lips—brown liner, blackberry pink lipstick, and a nice, shiny gloss—that never seem to leave his head; burned into his memory, melded to his mind.

his eyes drop to the baby pink toes he’s become far too fond of, the white strap and silver chain of her dior heels placed prettily over top. flits his appraising gaze up to her ankles, the left one wrapped in the anklet he gifted her on their fourth date, a (boxing) glove charm hanging from the gold link. up—up, up, up—they go, trailing the soft ruffles and tedious buttons lining her long sleeve knit dress, hem hitting just at her shin, tight fitting—cinched to her figure—with a swoop neckline that shows off just the right amount of cleavage.

he stops when his eyes find hers again, brown sugar and saccharine.

he pushes off the door frame and steps through, ‘til they’re standing toe to toe and her head is awkwardly bent backward so she can keep eye contact.

“hi, bear,” she chirps, soft and taunting. grins at him while her jewel adorned hands slide up the smooth lapels of his tux.

the left corner of his mouth kicks up into a smirk as he snakes his left arm around her waist, dragging her closer.

his head spins with the scent of cinnamon and evergreen, and he wants to nuzzle in her neck because of it.

“hey, cub,” he rumbles back, and neither of them acknowledge the way she practically melts into her, she just curls her fingers into his lapels, and he tightens his hold on her waist.

she looks at the flowers in his right hand, “those for me?”

carmy turns his head to look at the flowers, lifts his hand with a noisy crinkle to present ‘em to her.

still, he shakes his head, puts on his best poker face and huffs, “nah, i’m taking that real pretty broad down the hall on a date tonight. just dropping in to say ‘hi’.”

her grin drops, face flat, eyes narrowed.

she unfurls her fists from his jacket, starts pushing him away, out from where he came.

“well, since we’ve finished swapping pleasantries—”

this time when he huffs, he’s huffing out a laugh, “i’m kidding. hey, baby, i’m kidding. swear.” he drops the flowers (unimportant; he can get more if she really wants them) to the ground at the side of their feet and wraps his other arm around her waist, crowding her space, barely giving her room to breathe, let alone slip from his grasp.

she wriggles in his hold, still shoving uselessly at his firm chest. “carmen, let go—”

and, well he’s definitely in trouble, but there’s not much to be done about that now, is there?

he takes both her tiny, pounding fists and locks them behind her back in one fell swoop “never. now look at me.”

she looks into the hallway, just over his shoulder, to piss him off.

his eye threatens to twitch.

“look at me, cub. don’t make me say it again.”

she rolls her brown sugar eyes, but does thereafter shift her gaze to look at him. raises an impatient brow.

“i’m sorry for saying that. it was a shitty joke—”

“it wasn’t fucking funny, carm.”

he grunts, “all right. wasn’t funny, i’m sorry, baby.”

she continues to glare at him for another 30 to 45 seconds, but then her shoulders are slumping and her face is scrunching in that cute little pout and she’s whining like a sweet little baby.

“wasn’t funny, bear,” she grumbles, and carmy snickers.

“y’already said that; gimme a kiss.”

she shakes her head, fussy, and now it’s carmy’s turn to raise an impatient brow.

“what was that? speak up, baby.”

“no,” she groans, stomping her foot, trying to free her hands from behind her back, but there’s no way she’s getting out now, not if she wants to act like a brat.

“try again.”

“n—”

he yanks her into his chest, “try the fuck again.”

but when has she ever just willingly rolled over?

“let me go, carmen.”

“give me a fucking kiss, cub.”

—

they show up to carmy’s work gathering an hour and a half late, but who’s fucking fault is that (this, too, is a losing game)?

when they step into the venue together, all eyes immediately fall on them. how could they not?

carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto, the bear, and his new girl.

timothy ‘timmy’ grayson’s ex girl.

they don’t let it phase them, the side eye and poorly disguised whispering, just find their way to their way to the open bar and mingle with their inner circle.

the night quickly descends from business to casual, but that could just be because they were so late. as the older patrons slip out, the inconsequential jazz humming in the background is shut off, and then the ceiling is shaking with the bass of keep it g by asap rocky.

somehow, carmy’s on his second glass of bourbon and his girl just finished her third glass of wine and they’re…tipsy.

it’s not even like the song playing is inherently sexual, at all, really, but carmy’s lips are trailing over the back of her neck, uncoordinated—messy—and his fingers are digging into her hips because the way she’s fucking grinding on him should not be legal.

“god, cub,” he grunts in her ear, rolling his hips back into her.

“mhmm,” she moans in the back of her throat, subdued, swallowed down, and places her hands over his that grip at her like a lifeline. she lets her head fall back, settle in the crook of his neck so she can nose at the hinge of his jaw and suck a pretty hickey there, too.

he fully thrusts into her, the bass of the speakers muffling the too audible slap of their bodies connecting.

she squirms and squeaks, “bear!”

he growls, “what?”

she giggles in the shell of his ear. “down, boy. i gotta hit the restroom.”

carmy, very reluctantly, lets her slip from his grasp and venture to find the woman’s room. he nurses on another drink—whiskey, this time—but paces himself as he waits for his girl’s return.

that is, until he sees his girl in question talking with timothy fucking grayson. then, he downs the rest of his drink like water and calmly—calmly—walks up to them.

now, if (and this is a very big fucking if) carmen wasn’t being a complete a***** ******* ****** ***** *****, then maybe he would’ve noticed the rather unkempt state of his pretty broad, her soured expression and guarded body language.

he was being a complete redacted though, so he just steps behind her with his chest puffed and his jaw set, just itching for timmy to say something fucking stupid.

and that stupid fucking smirk on his stupid fucking face might scratch that itch just enough to satiate him.

“what’re y’doin’ with my girl, timmy?”

he doesn’t register the way she bristles against him at the term.

my girl.

“just makin’ friendly conversation,” he shrugs, still smirking, and carmy has never wanted his knuckles to split so fucking bad.

“friendly conversation?” he nearly coos back, the condescending, possessive prick. “why don’t y’find someone else to go make friendly conversation with, yeah? fuck off.”

he walks away before timmy boy gets the chance to respond, dragging his girl behind him.

when they make it back to the bar, he finally has the decency to assess his pretty broad. or, hound her, more like.

"what was he sayin' to you? and what the hell were you doin' with him in the fuckin' first place? if he bothers you again you come straight to me, understood?"

he's met with silence.

he frowns, looks down at his girl to find the same expression on her face, and goes to repeat himself. "i said, underst—"

"take me home, carmen."

his frown deepens. he bends in the knee to try and catch her eyes, but she turns her head away as soon as he glimpses her brown sugar irises.

"cub—"

"take me home, carmen. now."

and they've fought, all right? small tiffs here and there, "pick your fucking shoes up, carmen!", "stop fucking touching shit, carm!", "god, carmen, just leave me alone!" but this is different. deeper.

he's still frowning as he nods, mutters "okay," softly, as to not upset her any further, and places his hand on the small of her back to guide out of the venue doors and out to the valet.

usually, after a date, carmen will pull in to a parking space and get out first to open the passenger door for his girl and walk her up to her apartment, before either getting sent off with a goodnight kiss or getting tugged through her front door to continue where they'd left off.

this time, though, she out the door before the cars even full parked.

carmen rushes to keep up with her takes the stairs to her apartment two at a time.

"cub, wait up!"

she does no such thing.

in fact, she only seems to move faster in lieu of his request (brat).

he nearly misses his window to at least say goodnight to her, with the way she quickly keys into her home and tries to slam the door in his face, but a foot in the frame easily rectifies that.

"hey!" he barks at her, shoving the door open and slamming it shut after him.

"don't slam my damn door, carmen!"

"don't try to slam your damn door in my damn face, then!"

she frustratedly groans, arms flailing in exclamation. he watches her cautiously as she looks frantically for something—something, anything—before she's bending down to take off her dior heels.

clearly, something has pent up—boiled, festered—within her, because she chucks a shoe at his head (and for someone so unassuming, she has a damn good arm).

he ducks just before it can hit him, instead banging into the wall.

"what the fu— ow!"

she doesn't miss the second time.

"fuck you, carmen!" she screams at him.

"fuck you! you just threw your fucking shoe at my head! twice!"

"and you fucking deserved it," she cries, taking a step closer to him, pointing an accusatory finger. "you dick!"

"what the fuck did i do?" he shouts back, taking a step forward himself, brows furrowed in frustrated confusion.

"you— y-you—"

he takes another step toward her, "huh? i what? spit it the fuck out, baby."

not for the first time, she pouts like a kicked puppy, and her hands brace on his sturdy shoulders, and she pushes at him, angry. but, certainly for the first, carmy actually loses his balance. nearly trips over his feet with the way he stumbles backward.

"ugh, asshole! you made a bet!"

he frowns, bewildered. "what?"

"don't fucking lie to me, carm—"

"baby, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"stop fucking calling me that!" she screams, "with timothy! you made a bet with him before the fight, a bet on me!"

carmy's mouth hangs open, forming to phantom explanations that all fall too short or get too intimate—personal; she doesn't need to know the backstory, the why in his road to success. she can't, not yet. not so soon.

she shoves him again at his lack of response, and, for the second time, carmy stumbles back.

"fuck you, carmy!" she screams, eyes brimming and— fuck, she was not supposed to find out this way (well, ever, really, but surely not in this way). he racks his brain for sufficient a justification.

"fuck you, fuck you, fuck you! is that how you fucking see me? i'm just another belt you meatheads pass around and compete for? fucking kill yourselves over?"

"that's not true, baby—"

"i'm not your fucking baby!" she goes to shove him again, but he's ready this time, steeled. she throws her weight into each nudge and push and shove she gives to him, grunts and grumbles through the exertion of it, but he's stock-still like a statue now, and immovable force to be reckoned with.

"you done?" he mutters when she's huffin' and puffin' too hard to keep going.

her eyes snap from his chest to his baby blues, glaring. "fuck—!"

"—me? yeah, you've already said that, several times actually. now are you gonna let me explain, or do you wanna keep screamin'?"

her eyes, somehow, narrow further, teeth barred.

carmy prepares himself.

"do i wanna keep screamin'? well, since you fucking offered," she gripes, pounding her fists into his chest again. and he lets her. "you don't fucking think, do you? just puff your chest and fucking take it if you want it, right? god, carmen, i'm not some fucking toy—"

"i never implied that you were—"

"so you didn't bet you could fuck me better than timothy at the weigh-in?"

he snaps his mouth shut.

she scoffs, shakes her head. "un-fucking-believable," she mutters under her breath.

she sighs, and the (arguably) worst is over. but it's not like he necessarily welcomes the tears, either.

she sniffles, red-rimmed eyes sparkling in a pool of saltwater, and weakly shoves at his chest again.

"f-fuck you, bear," she weeps softly, voice cracking, head hanging, and carmy's never wanted to fix something so badly in his whole goddamn life. more than mikey. "i thought you fucking liked me—

"i do—!"

"stop lying—!"

and suddenly, carmen's had enough.

"be quiet," he barks.

the room falls silent.

he sighs, grips hers arms to keep her close and up right. drops his head to rest on hers, eye-to-eye, and she's too tuckered out to fight it.

his adams apple bobs, "i'm sorry, y/n," he whispers, and she doesn't think she's ever heard him so earnest before, so sad. "i'm sorry i made a bet on you, and hurt your feelings because of it. you're not a toy, or a belt, or any other prize, boxing or not; you're a human fucking being. and i'm sorry."

she sniffles again, and he takes her lack of shoving and yelling as clearance to continue.

"i'm not fucking sorry it worked, though." he can feel her tense, so he hurries on before she gets the wrong idea. "i'm not fucking sorry i saw you in that damn pink dress, in your damn pink heels, with you fucking pink toes. i'm not sorry that i talked to you after the match, and made good on my promise to timmy."

"carmen—"

he squeezes the sides of her shoulders, "i'm not sorry 'cause i do like you, cub, so fucking much."

she lifts her head, teary eyes blearily finding his, and she frowns up at him, like she doesn't believe him.

"why're lying?" she whimpers, all watery and sad sounding, and carmy just wants to swaddle her in a blanket and kiss her tears away.

he smiles gently at her, "m'not lyin', baby. do you think i'd still be here if all i wanted was a fuck and duck? that's what the ring girls are for, cub."

she makes a face at him, "ew! g-ross, carmy, don't—!"

he bites back a smirk. "you drive me insane," cuts her off, sliding his hands from her arms to her shea butter smooth palms. "you drive me up the fuckin' wall, actually. but i love that about you. i love that you don't take anyone's shit, including mine. love that you put me in my place, and tell me off when i step out of line." his tongue peaks out to lick his chapped bottom lip before he continues. "i love the way you curl up in a ball every night before bed because you can't sleep any other way, and i love the way you bitch and moan about your bones feelin' too stiff in the morning because of it." he regards her fondly, eyes flitting over every feature. “i love your teeth gems, and your long ass nails. i love it when you’re bare-faced and bushy-tailed, or when you’ve got a— what is it?”

she chokes on a snotty laugh, “a full beat?”

“a full beat!” he repeats, enthusiastic and beaming. they both take a moment to giggle, carmy’s hands finding purchase on her hips to draw her in, chest to chest. “i am sorry i hurt your feelings, cub, so fucking sorry. but i would make that bet ten fuckin’ thousand times over if it meant i’d end up anywhere with you.”

and now she’s crying for a whole different, much sweeter reason.

she pouts at him cutely, “bearrr!”

and it’s like nothing even happened.

“whaaat?” he groans, feigning annoyance. “snotty girl, look at those tears,” he tuts, “such a crybaby.”

“that’s not fair—!”

“hush,” he muses, walking them back toward her bedroom, deft fingers working to unfasten the many buttons of her dress. “you talk too much, anyone ever told you that? whatever, you should let me fuck you.”

“what?”

“you should let me fuck you.”

“you literally ate me out for an hour before we left, that’s why we were so fucking late. and who says you fuckin’ deserve it?”

carmy smirks, that’s his girl.

fuckin’ trouble.

he quirks a brow at her, fingers pausing their decent.

“you gonna let me earn it?”

—

a/n: hope u like it babies bc getting this done made me SICK (im serious i can’t fucking breathe right or swallow properly anymore 🙂‍↔️🫶🏽)

not proofread!!

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ayyy-pee · 5 months ago

Note

hii lexi!!! hope you’re doing well :)) would you be interested in writing a suguru first date kinda thing? i thought it might be cute ^_^ (also i love your pfp!! it looks so good!)

AHHH THANK YOU NONNIE! <3 I'm so late, but I imagine Suguru would be exactly like this for a first date when he's really into reader lmaooo it's short but i'm trying to flex my brain with little drabbles. i appreciate you sending this request in! i hope you like it! <3

𝐹𝐼𝑅𝒮𝒯 𝒟𝒜𝒯𝐸

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader

Warnings: Cutiepie sweetie face nervous Suguru Geto!, downbad Suguru, Gojo being an annoying shithead, fluff and cuteness <3

It's so hot here.

Is it hot in here?

Has to be. Or else Suguru wouldn't be sweating so much. He can’t even hold his drink, the damn glass keeps slipping from his hands.

Maybe it’s the lights making his palms so moist?

Are the lights too bright? Too hot?

Was this restaurant the right choice? If it’s making him this uncomfortable, surely you’ll be uncomfortable, too.

Maybe he should have chosen another place. Do you even like Italian? Fuck, he should have asked you before making a reservation. What if you’re allergic to…pasta or like…tomatoes? He didn’t even think about that. Maybe it's not too late to change plans.

The soft buzz in Suguru’s pocket pulls him from his scrambled thoughts, and he takes his phone out to see a text sitting at the top of his notifications.

Beauty: Pulling up now. See you soon :) <3

Fuck! It's too late to change plans!

Okay. Okay, this is fine. It will be fine! He’s got this. What’s there to be nervous about? Nothing, because Suguru doesn’t get nervous. He asked you out, anyway. Not the other way around! There’s no reason he should be reduced to this clammy, sticky mess he’s become.

And yet, it seems that’s all Suguru ever is when he’s in your presence. Although, it’s only been one other time.

It's been an entire week since Suguru first laid eyes on you coming down the aisle at his best friend's wedding. You would have thought he was the one getting married, the way his face grew red watching you smile, so stunning in that gown the bride had picked for you. The way his heart practically tried to punch its way through his ribcage when you’d graced him with a glance, aiming your beauty right at him. How you watched, teary eyed as your very best friend married his very best friend and it’s so insane of him, he knows. But Suguru thought he could see himself in this exact position one day…with you. And he didn’t even know your name.

It's so cliche, truly; a groomsman and a bridesmaid getting together at a wedding? It’s a romcom waiting to happen, but Suguru couldn't help himself.

You were the epitome of beauty. Your eyes, your lips, your smile, everything about you. They were all things Suguru could not get out of his head after you'd danced with him at the reception. With that cheesy love ballad playing way too loudly, you slipped perfectly into his embrace, like the missing piece of a puzzle, and he had to get to know you.

"Fuck your honeymoon," he'd told Satoru, rolling his eyes as his best friend panned his camera across the beautiful powdery sands of Turks and Caicos. “Can you ask your wife for her number?”

“Hmm…” Satoru flipped the phone back around and Suguru could see him pretending to think about it, tapping his chin just to irritate Suguru. “Beg me.”

“...Excuse me?”

“Beg…me…”

That stupid grin on that long limbed bastard’s face. If Suguru could, he’d reach through the phone and smack it right off of him. Why would he beg for your number? He’d get connected with you some other way. Suguru is not a beggar. Nothing in this world could make him open his mouth and plead for something.

“No.”

“Then I’m not asking. Good luck finding her! Gorgeous girl. Hope she doesn’t find someone else because there were quite a few people asking about her at the wedding…”

Suguru knows what he’s doing. And he fixes his friend with a deadpan stare as he says, “Nice try. Not begging.”

And Satoru chuckles. “Okay! See you in three weeks!” He sings on the other end.

“Wait!”

And so Suguru…begged for your number. Not his proudest moment, but as he sees you slip through the doors of the restaurant, grinning and waving excitedly when you spot him…well, it makes every bit of groveling worth it. He just saw you exactly one week ago. A full 7 days. 168 hours. 10,080 minutes. And you look just as breathtaking, if possible.

This feeling is familiar, the heat radiating from his cheeks and the intense pounding of his heart and this sensation to get on his knees before you and offer you the world.

“Hi,” you greet him, out of breath as you approach.

Suguru stands quickly, stealthily wiping his damp palms on his pants. And it’s a little awkward at first, but you hug him, slipping into his hold like you just…belong there. It’s driving him insane, the way you just seem to fit him so perfectly.

You take your seat on the other side of the booth, all smiles and god, if it doesn’t send Suguru spiraling. You’re just so cute. You almost seem as excited to be here with him as he is to be here with you.

“I meant to get your number at the wedding, but honestly, I was just too nervous to ask.” You confess, giggling, a bubbly and airy sound that makes Suguru want to hear it more, maybe set it as his ringtone then piss Satoru off so he’ll blow his phone up. Then Suguru can hear it over and over.

He chuckles, smoothing his hands over his pants again, trying his damndest to stop the sweating. “Yeah?”

You nod, picking up the menu and gracing him with a sweet, shy smile before hiding behind the sheet of paper. “Yeah, so I’m really happy you called.”

Suguru’s heart races and he can’t help the goofy grin that’s now formed on his lips as he picks up his menu. “Me too.”

180 notes · View notes

ssivinee · 1 year ago

Text

✧Wounded Heart✧

Part 1 | Part 2

BEBE! Bada Lee x F Reader: You've always been known as the smartest student in school, while Bada was known as the campus heartthrob and player. She decides to take advantage of her situation, but puts your heart on the line along with her passing grade.

Word Count: 9.2k

TW: Slight self harm

Note: This is the longest fic I've written so far😮‍💨. I felt so evil writing this, but I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THE ANGST😈. ALSO, please check out my new rule. If not, it just warns blogs with no pfps and reblogs. I have a high chance of soft-blocking you, as I may get shadowbanned bc Tumblr can't defer you from bots.

Character Vision Board

You were never one to gain any attention from anyone. Frankly, you liked it that way.

Known as the most reserved yet nerdiest student in school, you were never called by your name. How could anyone put a name to your face when no one knew what it was. People had only given you the title of top student in university.

Most people knew of your existence, but by always wearing your oversized hoodie over your head, glasses, and mask, you kept your identity a secret amongst your peers. You survived high school like this, so being in your final year of university and still being able to maintain it was a breeze.

It was a regular Monday morning, and you sat in the library before classes, trying to freshen up on your Physics lesson yesterday. You woke up at 6 a.m. to get ready, showered, and ate breakfast with an energy drink before heading out to the library. That was your daily routine, the loner lifestyle, if you will.

As you typed away on your computer, the buzz of other students started coming in waves at 9 a.m., hitting the clock. That meant it was time to head to your first class. After multiple hours of classes, hand-cramping notes, and sitting in the back of every subject, you headed to your favorite class, computer science. For some reason, your brain was highly advanced in this area, making it enjoyable.

30 minutes go by, and just sitting in the back of the class, a tall, nonchalant figure walks in. You visibly see your teacher's face contort as she rolls her eyes at the student. The notorious Bada Lee came in late once again. You believed she began to do it on purpose at this point, as she stopped giving excuses for her tardiness by the second week.

The thought certainly loitered in the back of your mind. You never understood why Bada was the way she was. This was one of the few classes with several options, so if you wanted to avoid taking it, you had multiple other choices. Yet, even being late every day, she showed up and did the work.

Maybe not to the best of her abilities, but she still did it.

There were a few things to note about Bada. She was captain of the school's basketball team and had a distasting reputation. The campus player and heartbreaker. It felt as though, every week, there was new drama surrounding a girl whose heart got broken by the tall student, and it always made you want to roll your eyes every single time. Never understanding why these girls chased and chased, even when knowing their situationships wouldn't be the way it was from their fantasies.

Nearing the end of the class, everyone was getting ready to leave, but the Professor stopped anyone from going further. "Before you leave, I want to discuss the upcoming midterm project."

She pulls up the presentation on the board and explains, "This project requires you to make an updated website for the school. The requirements will be posted online by the end of the day, and I will assign you a partner for this. The highest grade will have their website be used as the new official website for our school. This will be due a month from now."

Everyone becomes surprised and happy at the prize for their upcoming trials. Your professor begins to list the names, and she gets to you, "Baek Y/n... and Bada Lee." Your heart sank instantly at those words.

You grumble with your head down. Out of all the people in the class, you got stuck with the one who'd rather mess with a girl at any chance she had.

Bada sits in her seat, brows furrowed. Who the fuck was Baek Y/n?

Bada knew almost everyone, but she'd never heard of that name. That's when the Professor lets everyone go, and she sees a girl walk up to the teacher. You wore the gigantic hoodie, and Bada couldn't see your face, but with all the gestures you gave your teacher, you seemed like you weren't pleased about something. When she hears you huff in annoyance, and your eyes meet hers while leaving, she sees anger bubbling behind them.

Bada gets up, confused, and heads over to the teacher. "Professor Min, who was that?"

"That was your partner Baek Y/n. You've heard of the top student before, right?" Her eyes double at the older man's words, and her face becomes extremely happy. She would undoubtedly be using this to her advantage.

"Now, don't think of trying to get the girl to do all the work, Bada. I'm allowing you to bring up your grade with this project." She nods furiously before heading out to tell her friends the news.

She sees them over at their school's common room, and her friends, Aiki, Noze, Lee Jung, and Emma, give her weird looks like Bada grew three heads. "Now, why is she cheesing now?" Aiki asks, and the taller girl replies with a smack to her arm.

"You guys won't believe who my partner is for my computer science project."

The four girls looked at each other and began naming several popular girls. Bada rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "Well, you wanna tell us? We named like half the girls already." Noze says.

"Baek Y/n."

...

"Baek, who now?" Lee Jung looks at her in amusement, but your title shocks them, "Top Student." Their eyes grow wide. The group looked around the room to see if they could find you. "Her name is Baek Y/n?" Emma confirms, "She's in my class, so I'm pretty sure that's her name."

"Well, if you don't ace that project, she must hate you." Lee Jung jokes, making Bada think, "Truth be told, she didn't seem too happy about being my partner either."

"We wouldn't be happy either." "Can't blame her."

They kid around, but Aiki tells the girl, "You better stay on her good side. I'm sure if you don't do the work, she'll find a way to ensure you don't have a shared grade." "True, she's always been partnered with smarter kids, so she's never had an issue, but knowing you? You’re gonna need to play nice girl this time, Bada."

Bada scoffs at Emma's words, "She'll do the work by herself whether she likes it or not. Besides, I'm on everyone's good side." She shows a cocky grin, but Emma and Lee Jung specifically can't help but doubt her. "I don't know about this one. Doesn't seem like an easy girl to get through."

"Nah, have some faith in our girl," Noze says, patting Bada's hip. "Wanna bet on it?" Bada says, with pure confidence backing her up. "I get her to fall for me, and you owe me a month of doing all my assignments." Lee Jung smirks at the girl, "Deal."

"So when are you gonna start?" Noze asks as she eats her chips. "Not sure. Definitely not tonight, though. I'm seeing Redy after practice." All her friends roll their eyes at the girl's name, finding her ignorance ever so bothersome.

The next morning, you find yourself in the same spot as usual and have begun the project already. Bada finds herself looking for you on campus and figures, where do all nerds hang out?

The library.

She makes her way over, and as she enters, she automatically finds you in the corner of the large hall. "Hey there, partner," She greets, and you look at her dead in the eyes, "What are you doing here?" Your tone ached in annoyance.

"Come on, don't be like that. I want actually to try on this project."

"Fine. Let me ask you this first. Why are you even in computer science?" You were straightforward, your serious demeanor never fading. Bada is surprised by your daring question but never trembles, "I just thought it would be interesting." An irked scoff is heard from behind your mask, "Yeah, right," was said with an eye roll. Well, this is gonna be harder than she thought.

"I'm being serious. I wanna earn the grade as well." She whines slightly, and your eyes cry disgust. "Give me your number, and we can work on the project at my house after basketball practice." You grumble and slouch in your chair, and Bada, unconsciously, finds the position adorable as your oversized hoodie collapses on your body, "Sure," is all you mumble, not wanting any more trouble than there already was.

Bada grins as you write your information down on a purple post-it note and shows her excitement when you hand it over to her. You sat there as she left the library, wondering what she had planned for you. It wasn't like Bada to talk to nobodies to "do work." Yet the sooner you had this project done, the better you took her words with a grain of salt, hoping she was being at least a little truthful with her words.

You weren’t one to trust many people’s words, particularly from individuals like Bada, but you knew it had to be done for the sake of your grade. A hefty sigh leaves your body, and you try to go about your day without going too deep into it. During your last period, you feel your phone buzz and read an unexpected message.

Bada Meet me after practice at 5 PM at the gym. I’ll give you a ride so we can work on the project.

The recurring disdain takes over your face again as you read. You hate that you even had contact with the girl, so you just leave her on read as you remind yourself about the meeting. You would just have to wait for her, deciding to go to the school's garden as you let time pass. On the other end of campus, Bada stares at her phone in dismay, “Did she just leave me on read?” She mumbles to herself, and her fellow co-captain hears the uncommon words from the latter’s mouth. “Someone leaving the queen Bada on read? You don’t hear that every day,” Haechi tells the girl, and Bada sneers at the comment. “She’s just playing hard to get for now. Trust, she’ll fall for me by the end of the week.”

“Who is it anyways?” Haechi questions. “Baek Y/n,” she simply states, and the other’s eyes widen. “Like top student Baek Y/n?” Bada looks at her in confusion, “You know her?”

The latter shrugs, “We went to the same high school. She’s a sweet girl,” she adds, and Bada’s curiosity grows. “Sweet? Do you even know what she looks like?” “Nope, but if you care about your grades, she’ll notice and help you, even if you're struggling.”

Haechi was one of the few popular students in university who focused on her grades, so her statement wasn’t so out of the blue. “Know anything else about her?” Haechi briefly considers the inquiry, “She really likes energy drinks, from what I remember. She always drank the blue Monster cans.” But there was a slight hesitation in the co-captin’s voice.

“I know how you are, Bada, so I’m aware I can’t stop you from your plans, but try not to do too much damage to the girl. She’s too precious to be broken by someone like you,” Haechi tells her, and despite the brutal words, Bada doesn’t take it to heart, almost shoving it out of her mind.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

The practice continues for hours before Bada notices your small figure sitting on the bleachers, waiting for the little time left. She jogs her way over to you with a bashful smile, “Hey, let me just change, and we can head out.” You just nod, wanting to get out fast, but Haechi’s familiar face has your eyes smiling. “Y/n-nie! Long time no see,” she opens her arms, and you gladly hop down to hug her. Bada watched the interaction, not knowing how to react to this side of you. You looked overjoyed to see the girl, and she may not be able to see your face, but the new energy made her feel a sense of loss.

She didn’t understand why you favored Haechi but not her. They were both tall, popular basketball team captains and had similar recognition in school. The only thing Haechi had over Bada was her straight A’s in classes. Was that the thing that would get you to like her? Bada grumbled at the concept. She wasn’t failing or anything, or else she couldn’t play on the team, but ALL her grades were not close to par with Haechi’s, not even a little bit. When her attention returns to the two of you, she sees you handing a new water bottle to Heachi, who thanks you. “You two seem close,” she tells them, and her co-captain looks at you almost with cherishing eyes. “Y/n’s the best man. Helped me a lot throughout high school,” you wave your hands in denial. “Heachi, you did your best in high school with or without my help. You’re hard-working,” your voice appears in a softer tone. Bada wanted to roll her eyes hard, but she left you two to change.

Bada wasn’t jealous, but maybe being narked was the better way to express her feelings. The girl was the type of person to feel better and superior to everyone else, so the fact that Haechi was already on your good side had her deep in her cycling thoughts. She needed to work hard to get this version of you, and not just with the project.

When she finishes, she tells you to go with her, and you hug Haechi before leaving the court and going to the parking lot with Bada. As she drove, she tried to make some conversation. “You started the project, right?” “Yeah.”

“You might have to teach me a few things so I can actually help.” “Sure.”

“You like computer science?” “Yup.”

That. That was the substance you gave Bada after every question. It made her want to jump out of the moving car, her ego bruised by your one-word replies. She stops trying after 10 minutes, letting the silence overwhelm you two, and you couldn’t have been any happier with the lack of sound. The car pulls up to this large mansion, and you try to hide your awe. This house was huge. Probably being able to hold the capacity of 200 students. “Come on in,” she invites with the large open door.

When you entered, your eyes marveled at the marble architecture, the classical aesthetic being the prominent feature of the house. Bada then leads you to the living room, where you sit timidly on her couch. “Do you want anything to drink?” She asks you as your eyes still wander the house. “Um, I’m ok.”

“Well, let me just change before we start,” you nod, taking out your laptop and notebook, trying to get a bit comfortable for your peace of mind. You pull up the empty website domain with only your school's colors and a sleek banner that takes up a decent amount of the screen. After 10 minutes, Bada returns with gray basketball shorts and a tight wife beater as her top. Your eyes go up and down her figure before focusing on the monitor.

You were honest, and as much as you didn’t understand Bada’s playgirl mentality, you did understand her appeal to the female population in school. Her tall figure, the varieties of colors she’d use on her long hair that cascaded all the way down to her waist, and the hats she wore to hold a sense of mystery were the perfect formula for the way to a girl’s heart.

“So what should I do?” Bada says, sitting beside you, which had you scoot in the opposite direction. “We can split the parts. Professor Min already put up the criteria for the website. I can do the harder stuff like navigation, school history, subjects, majors, and minors.” You tell her as you view the recent handout your professor had put up. “That’s too much, no? All I’d have left is the decorating, department information, and help desk information. Why don’t I help you with the major and minors?” You look at her with bewildered eyes, “You sure? A lot of coding and linking goes into that?” The taller one nods confidently, “You just have to teach me, and I’m sure I’ll be able to do it.” You nod with some hesitation.

“How about we start brainstorming the website's theme, and we can start with the project next week?”

“Sure, but why next week? My practices always end at 5-6 PM, so we should have time.” You shake your head, “it’s not because of you. I'm just gonna be busy with the school council this week.” And Bada looks at you in surprise, “Your part of the school council?”

“Yeah, but I’m just the secretary. Since the sports events are around the corner, I have to oversee everybody and their work,” you explain. Bada feels the admiration brewing inside her. She was aware of your hardworking nature, well, everyone was. You were the top student for a reason, but this put you on a different playing field. On top of your multiple studies, you did your due diligence as a prominent figure on their school council.

“Well, why aren’t you the president?” You scoffed, following a pity laugh, “Bada, I can’t lead anyone to save my life.” She stares at you, not understanding your point, and you take notice. “I might be smart, but that doesn’t mean I have leadership skills.”

“Maybe I can help you,” the tall girl shrugs. She thought she was a good captain for her team, so with that credit, she could give you pointers. “It’s fine. I like my position. I get to help everyone.” The two of you let the time pass as you continued to work on the project before ending the night.

The next few days, you had a lot on your plate. You were running around the school, ensuring all the projects and events were being set up properly, writing reports, and then reporting to the president and vice president about overseeing.

During this time, Bada rarely saw you in class, and she thought about how busy you’d be. You weren’t lying, huh.

But on a Thursday afternoon, you watched the gym setup and saw Bada’s little group chilling on the bleachers. Another student, Doyoung, walks in with papers stacked in his hands. It was all the papers you needed to sign and read through, but a basketball flew in his direction before he could reach you. His head throbs as he drops the papers, and you see Bada’s groupies laughing as Bada yells, “Sorry, Do-ah, the ball slipped out my hands,” she says as she collects the ball and returns to the bleachers. You ran over to the boy, helping him get the papers and helping him up. “Doyoung? Are you okay?” You help the boy up, and he stares at you, dizziness coating his face. You glare at Bada, who catches a glimpse of your raging eyes, and she realizes her fuck up in an instant.

“Come on, let me take you to the nurse,” you say as you grab his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders. “Shit,” Bada says as she watches the two of you leave, you having the stacks of heavy paper sticking out of your bag. “Looks like your timing is off this time,” Noze teases, and Bada thinks she has to make it up to you. She ran out of the gym, trying to catch up to you. She found you settling Doyoung on the nurse's bench as you explained what happened, and to avoid punishment, she waited for you to leave the office before she could talk to you.

Walking out, you make eye contact with the basketball player and scoff at the sight. You tried to walk past her, but she stopped you, pulling your arm, “Y/n, wait.” You rip your arm away, feeling grossed out by her touch. “Did you feel cool?” You bluntly ask, and Bada is taken aback at your tone. “No, that’s not it-”

“Then what is it, Bada? It doesn’t take much to be nice, but it sure does take a lot of energy to be as rude as you.” The disappointment felt like knives to Bada’s heart. It felt like the same judgment she got from her parents, and now you were saying it to her? It made her want to suffocate six feet under. “I just wanted to be funny. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I’m sorry,” she mumbles as her head hangs low. “That apology shouldn’t be for me, asshole. Apologize to Doyoung,” you tell her, leaving her where she stands as you are still much to do. “Doyoung-ah, just text me later when you get home,” the younger boy nods, and you return to your busy day.

“Dude, I apologized to Doyoung yesterday, and she still hasn’t texted me anything about the project,” Bada tells her friends as she paced back and forth. “I don’t see what the big deal is,” Aiki says, and Bada looks at her in distress. “It’s a big deal 'cause I need that A to play in that prelims.”

“Maybe give her something to make it up to her?” Lee Jung suggests that Bada’s eyes grow at her words, remembering Haechi’s words. “The blue Monster,” she gasps, and her friends look at her weirdly as she runs off campus. Bada went to the convenience store, buying a can of Monster energy drink, some cookies, and an egg sandwich. It was early morning, so she knew she’d find you in the library at your usual spot.

Instead of being on your laptop this time, your eyes never left the papers you read and signed. Not even noticing her presence, Bada drops the bag lightly on the desk and pushes it in your direction. You look up, see the girl’s sorry face, and check the inside of the bag. “What’s this?”

“My apology to you for being a dick. I also apologized to Doyoung yesterday, so I’m in the clear.” You roll your eyes and sigh heavily, “Why are you like this, Bada?” Now she was confused, “What do you mean?”

“You're capable of being nice to people like me, so why can’t you do it to others?” Because other people won't help my grade, Bada thought. “I’m not sure,” Bada acts, trying to look ashamed. “But I know I’ll try my best to change,” she says, that confident smile taking place on her face again.

So, during the next few weeks, you worked with Bada. She did her best to show you the better version of herself. Yes, she was acting initially, but as time passed, she got comfortable with the routines. She attended classes earlier, paid attention, participated, and even studied. The week after the altercation, Bada had asked you to tutor her in certain subjects, and you gladly accepted, liking the direction of her change.

So, the two of you sat in her home on a Friday afternoon after school, and you were working on your chemistry assignments. You had become comfortable in the setting after working at her home a few times. “Y/n-ah, help me with this long-ass formula. It's confusing.” You giggle at the pout on her lips and check the screen. “The prefix is hepta- and check out the periodic table for the names.” You point to the table of chemical symbols, and Bada begins to understand the list of prefixes on the coffee table.

You continued your work and studied the current topic you guys were on. Bada looked at you, wondering, “I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable, but why do you always wear a mask?” You pause, not expecting the surprise question. “It just makes school go by faster. Drama-free too,” you express, and Bada rolls her eyes. “But it’s just you and I here.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that it makes my life easy,” you state. “Look, tomorrow, when you come over for the project, come without the mask, please?” You look at her in confusion, wondering why she was pressing on so much. But seeing her giving you puppy eyes, you reluctantly agreed, “Fine.”

“Great! Now help me with this question, please?” You laugh at her struggle.

The next day, you woke up to prepare for the long day. You took a shower, did your everyday skincare, and ensured you looked presentable. You were much more alert about your looks when you didn't wear the mask. You wanted to feel confident and ensured you did when applying the lip oil and putting your hair in a high ponytail.

You took an Uber to Bada’s place and rang the doorbell. When Bada opens the door, she takes in your appearance. You were out of your uniform for once, and the hairstyle displayed your small face clearly. Bada looks at you fondly, not expecting such a pretty girl to hide behind the mask daily. Even with the glasses on, your eyes looked large, and your heart-shaped lips colored bright pink. The tall girl couldn’t pull her eyes away from your lips. They looked too juicy not to kiss.

“Are you gonna let me in, or should I just stay out here?” Bada shakes her thoughts away and moves to the side. “So you were hiding this the entire time?” She asks as she pats your head, and you swat her hand away. “You practically begged for this.”

“And I’m not complaining,” She continues, staring at you, “go to school like this man.” “Okay, it was one thing asking me to come to your house like this, but school? Never happening.” You tell her, settling your bag down on the couch. “Wait, we should work in my room today. My parents are gonna be home today.”

She leads you into her room, the cool gray walls blinding your eyes. You observe your surroundings, surprised to see the clean room. She puts your bag on the office chair and lets you sit on her bed. You began to talk about what you’ve done on the project, but as you talked, Bada wasn’t even concerned about your words, focusing on your body more. Your outfit made Bada want to have you moaning underneath her, chest rising up and down as you begged for more.

“Bada?” You check on her worryingly. “Yes?” She whispers, still not staring at your face. “Have you done the majors and minors?” “I finished the majors, but I’m still working on the minors,” she tells you, clearly still entranced. “Can you show me?”

“Oh, um, yeah,” She shakes her head and takes her laptop out, showing the work she had completed, and you were visibly pleased with the progress. “This is actually really good. Nice job,” your validation had her heart swelling as your grin held a tint of pride. “Maybe you can finish up the minors today? Just so your work goes by faster.” She nods and checks out all the work you’ve done as well. “You finished all of these? That fast?” She stares at the screen, astonished by the amount of stuff you did the past two weeks. “Anything that needs to be done on a computer, I can do in a quick flash,” you joke, but it holds some sincerity. “I’m trying to be like you, girl,” She comments, and you laugh.

“Let’s do this so we don’t have much left to do next week.” With those words, the two of you worked the entire day. By the next time you checked the time, you realized the hours passed quickly. “Damn, it’s already 4 PM?” This also makes Bada check her phone, “Oh, your right. You want something to eat?” “I wouldn’t mind that actually.”

The two of you enter her kitchen, and Bada heated up some leftover Chinese food she had left in the fridge. Once you guys were eating, Bada tried to get to know you more, finding your presence comforting. “So, Y/n, why do you work so hard in school?” Your mind malfunctions at the question, unsure if you should be honest with the girl. “Um~,” you start, slowly picking at your food. “It’s mainly for my mom. My dad left us for his other family when I was five, and she raised me all by herself. This is the only way to give her a good life after everything she has gone through.” Your voice said with a hint of sadness, and Bada watched your pretty face fall. You wiped away the slight tears that formed. “You’re a good person, Y/n. Never forget that,” She tells you, and you find your heart racing at the words. Bada never had this effect on you, but her words of encouragement made your day.

She was about to continue the conversation, but another tall, more mature woman walked in the room, eyes looking cautiously at the sight of you. “Bada,” she called your partner's name, and you look surprised at Bada’s figure. She straightened herself up, fixing her appearance slightly. “Mother.”

“Who is this?” The older woman’s hand points over in your direction, and before Bada can answer, you decide to try and please the stern woman. “My name is Baek Y/n mam. I’m Bada’s partner for our computer science project. It’s nice to meet you.” You bow at the woman, and her eyebrows raise at your politeness. “Good manners, proper style, pretty face, excellent speaker,” her mom states, as her gaze moves around your body. “You should be more like this, Bada.”

“Mom, not in front of her, please,” Bada’s voice goes small, and you regret speaking up. “What? It’s true. Instead of basketball, you should be a model student. I should thank your teacher for partnering you up with this young woman.”

“I don’t know how we failed to raise you. This is how you should’ve turned out,” The older woman goes to your side, using her two hands to present you as if you were a presentation. Bada’s feelings were in a whirlwind. She wasn’t sure if she could be mad at you, her mom, or just the world. Her mom wasn’t even wrong. You were perfect in every way, and she was the disappointment. Two different worlds were crossing paths, and she was beginning to wish she was partnered with another individual instead of you.

Your eyes grow at her mother’s harsh words, and you shake your head, moving away from the woman. She wasn’t even aware of Bada’s new changes and efforts the last few days, but she belittled her daughter. “Madam, with all due respect-”

“Y/n. Don’t,” The tall girl tells you, with a stern voice, her breathing going shaky. “You right, mother. I’ll do better,” Bada says, head hanging low as she walks past the two of you. “What a dramatic girl,” You hear her mom telling herself, and you do your best not to ridicule the woman. “I’ll go check up on her,” you bow and run up to Bada’s room, finding the door shut. When entering, her back was turned to you as she sat on the edge of her bed. You were about to reach out on her shoulder but halted when you heard the sniffles as they gradually grew heart-wrenching. You rush to Bada’s side without any reluctance, pulling her into a hug. The warmth engulfing Bada had her break down instantly, never having anyone hold her as you did. Your eyes teared up at the sounds of her hyperventilating, her grip on your shoulder becoming tighter.

You then thought this was such a common occurrence for Bada. She put up this facade in school, wanting the attention of other women, and finally understood where it all stemmed from. Bada just wanted to feel loved and longed for, but with a household like this, it felt so hard to even ask for. She shouldn’t even have to ask. It was her mother, after all.

“Bada, you’re doing your best. Don’t let your mom’s words take that away from you.” You whisper as you rub her back, “If you ever want to talk, you can always talk to me.”

Bada begins to calm down at your words, the shakiness in her voice fading away. “Thank you, Y/n-ah.” She whispers, leaving her head on your shoulders. She wavers and asks, “Can you come to my game on Friday?”

“Of course. I’ll be your personal cheerleader,” you quip, in a shot to make her feel better, which works when a cheesing smile forms on her face. “You’d only cheer for me?” “Maybe for Haechi as well,” you tease, and she hits your arm with a pout. “Okay, ouch. I’ll cheer for you only, damn. No need to get violent on me.” Bada laughs at your words.

You try to stray from the topic, but you can’t help but ask, “Does she talk to you that way all the time?” Bada sighs, “Yeah, basically every time she’s home.” The lightbulb in your head flickers when she says, “My house may not be as extravagant as yours, but how about we work on the project on my house on Tuesday? I’ll send you my address, and you can come over after practice,” Bada’s eyes shined at the proposal. “I’d be honored.”

So the following Tuesday, you come home and relax on your bed before deciding to take a shower, feeling the stickiness of your sweat getting to you. You changed into a large baby pink shirt and some pajama shorts. Deciding to get a head start, you started your other assignments before Bada could get there. You worked on your easy English paper as you waited for the time to pass and heard the doorbell. Your eyes checked the time, and seeing 6 PM, you already knew who it was. You open the door to find Bada changed into gray sweatpants, an oversized hoodie, and one of her iconic hats covering her head. “Well, Miss Bada, welcome to my humble abode,” you say, welcoming her in. Bada’s eyes roam around, taking in the simplicity of the house, finding it shocking as she took a liking to it. “It feels… homey,” She mumbles, and you pat her shoulder. “I have more space in my room. Let’s work there.”

Bada’s eyes wander to your exposed thighs when going up the stairs. They looked so thick and plump. Bada, never realizing the build of your body, wanted to grip your thighs until they were turning red. Once you let her into your sacred space, Bada sees the tiny potted plants you kept, shelves full of books, your desk looking organized, and your twin-sized bed and pillows wrapped in a light purple set.

“So I have the navigation and research of the school's history. I might leave that research for next week to work on other subjects today.” Bada nods, settling on your bed and opening her laptop, “What other assignments do you have to do?”

“I’m trying to finish my English paper and then study for next week’s Chemistry exam.” “CHEM EXAM?” Bada yells, startling you into a jump. “Yes, Bada, chemistry exam.” Bada rubs the back of her neck, “Can you help me study?” You smile at her, “Of course.” The two of you finished the topics you agreed to do today, and Bada explained that she only had the decorating left. “Y/n?” You hear a voice coming from downstairs, and you smile, “Yes, mom?”

“Did you and your friend eat yet?” Bada is bewildered at the foreign voice. Your mom knew she was here? “We haven’t yet!” You voice out as you put your hair up in a messy bun. “Come down and eat. I made some mandu and kimchi jiigae,” Bada’s eyes brightened at the names of the food. You giggle at her face and pull her into the kitchen with you. Bada makes eye contact with your mom, and the woman gasps. “Y/n, you didn’t tell me how beautiful your friend was.”

“Mom, stop~,” you whine as you give her a welcoming hug. Bada smiles at your relationship with your mom. It is the exact opposite of what she was used to. “Let me help you with setting up the table?” Your mom handed you the plates and utensils, “get comfortable, Bada. You’re about to eat some of the best food ever,” You tell the tall girl, trying to tease your mom, who laughs at your comment. “Come on, sweaty, sit down,” Your mom tells the basketball player as she puts both dishes at the center of your table.

“How was school you two?” Bada almost chokes on her first bite of food as your mom asks, not used to the motherly love. “Oh dear, here, have some water, darling,” Your mom pours a glass as you pat Bada’s back. “I’m sorry. Um, school was alright, thank you for asking,” Bada says, mumbling, and you smile pityingly at your mom. “Same mom, nothing new.”

“That’s good!” She finishes, letting you all eat in peace. “Have you rested this past week, Y/n?” You grin at your mom’s question, “You know I try and stop doing work an hour before I go to bed, Mom.” “That doesn’t count.”

You sigh, “Don’t worry. I plan to go to Bada’s game on Friday, so I’ll take a break then.” Your mom gets excited, “Really? Good luck with your game. I hope you guys win!” Your mom was joyful, even with what had happened in the past, which made her your hero. “I hope we win too, Ms. Baek,” Bada gives an appreciating smile. “Oh, please call me mom. Any friend of Y/n can call me Mom. She rarely has any friends, so,” Your mom whispers her ending statement, and you roll your eyes at her. “Can we not expose Y/n? Thanks,” You say, pointing to yourself. The two smile at your gesture, and Bada teases you, “She’s not wrong.”

“Look at what you started, Mom!”

After you ate and studied with Bada, it was already 9 PM as you walked her out of your house. “You’re mom is the sweetest person on Earth,” Bada says, a sense of peace taking over her as she held the bag of food your mom had packed for her. “I know,” you giggle, knowing how your mom was. She accepted everyone and anyone as long as they treated you and her kindly.

“Thank you, Y/n. You’ve been helping me so much recently, and I don’t know how to pay you back,” she says, bringing you into the tightest hug. Your chest pounded, feeling a new overwhelming feeling of emotions. You knew that you and Bada had become closer in the past few weeks, but now you blushed at her touch, making you nervous.

There was no way you were starting to like her, right? You believed Bada was changing for the better. She had stopped flirting with so many girls, focused more on school, and acted as a more proper captain for her team. That’s what you thought, at least.

It was Thursday morning, before Bada’s game, and she was chilling on her hour break with the rest of her friends. “How has the project been going?” Emma asks with genuine interest. “It’s actually really good,” She simply states, and her friends stare at each other, unsure of how to go about her answer. “You remember our deal, right?” Lee Jung asks the taller, reminding her of her words two weeks ago. “Of course, I do,” Bada’s words felt like a harsh smack to the face. Her statement simmered in her mind like she was lying to herself.

Bada knew she was changing, and whether she would like to admit it or not, the thought scared her. It was because of you and only you. She was never meant to go this deep or even this far with your friendship. She couldn’t help herself, though. She shared tears with you, personal issues her friends didn’t even know about, and even bonding with your own mother. Feeling like a brand new person, Bada felt liberated and accomplished. Lately, she thought she could stick up to her parents, defending herself from their judgmental words. Last night, during their family dinner, Bada’s mother and father had some words for her again. “Bada, your grades better be good this semester, or you’ll be sent to military school.” Her father tells her in an eerie, monotone voice. Bada looks at them, sensing betrayal. “Do you guys even love me?” “What kind of question is that?” Her mom gazes at the girl, the cold look never leaving her gaze. “You haven’t even noticed the effort I’ve been putting in the last few days. Everything I do is never enough for the both of you.” Bada’s parents were taken aback at their daughter's sudden outburst. “Maybe if you were putting this much energy before, we wouldn’t have to say anything to you,” her father points out. “It’s because of that Y/n girl. I should thank her for you.” Bada grumbles at the authority, not wanting to hear the same crap repeatedly. “I understand I may not have been the best child. Trust me, I know. But maybe if you two showed even the tiniest bit of compassion and love, I wouldn’t have turned out this way.” That statement had both her parents shut up, letting her words brew in their minds.

“Bada,” she hears your voice, pulling her out of her thoughts, and everyone looks at you. Your eyes looked at them weirdly as they looked surprised at your presence. “Are you free on Sunday? I have things to do on Saturday, but we can probably finish the project by the end of this week.” She smiles at you, “No problem, we only have a little to go anyways. It shouldn’t take that long.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you wave off, and Bada’s friends sat there, frozen at the exchange. “That might be the first time I’ve ever heard her voice,” Aiki says, hypnotized by your sweet voice. “I might have to snatch her up from you, Bada.” Noze kids, but Bada looks at her with stone-cold eyes, “No.”

Her friends sit there, unknowingly triggering something inside the tall girl. “It was just a joke, Bada, chill.” Lee Jung tells her as she shakes her head.

Emma looks at her, eyes growing at the assumption, “Are you falling for the girl?” Bada instantly looks at her like she’s crazy, “I just want to finish this project before you guys try anything,” she says, saving herself.

Being oblivious to Bada’s words, you were excited about her game tomorrow. Your outfit was planned. You had snacks and a Gatorade for Bada to drink during her match. Since Tuesday night, Bada had been running on your mind constantly, and you weren’t sure how to handle your feelings. It was the first time you were hardcore crushing on someone, and this project made it challenging to contain your emotions. Her presence, attention, and beauty had you fixated. Since this was a first for you, you wanted to slow it down, trying to navigate it as you went.

So when game day finally came, you wore your hair up in a sleek ponytail and wore an extra jersey that Bada had given you with the number 22. You paired it with some simple Air Forces and ripped baggy jeans. Keep up the mysterious facade. You had your black mask covering the lower half of your face. Everyone stared at you as you sat on the court, wondering what your relationship was with their school’s basketball captain. You only kept your eyes down, not enjoying the amount of attention you were getting.

Bada comes out from the locker room in full uniform and her eyes find your body, and an unconscious smile takes over her face. You looked adorable in the oversized jersey, and Bada just wanted to run up and hug you, but the game was starting soon, and the team had to warm up.

You space out, but the loud blaring of the alarm shocks you out of it. As a book-believing student, you weren’t familiar with the rules or how the sport worked, but Bada made it worthwhile. Bada was noticeably agile and had a massive amount of stamina compared to everyone on the court. As you watched and cheered after her every shot, a blonde girl noticed your attire. A scowl and a look of disgust replaced her cheers. You weren’t even aware of her, focusing on the tall girl the entire time.

When half-time took place, you handed Bada the drink you had prepared for her. Smiling at your gesture, she thanked you and sipped as their coach spoke to them.

The game started again, and as the timer was hitting the last few seconds, the score stood at 86-87, the score slim to the tee. Your heart beats anxiously as you watch Bada maneuver through the court. Haechi had passed the ball to her co-captain, and at 5 seconds, Bada had taken her chance at a three-pointer, and everyone held their breath as the ball spun around the rim. So when the ball fell in at the last second, all your school's students jumped and cheered at the epic finale. Bada looks over at you again, seeing your proud eyes on her. She blew a kiss at you, and you giggled as she celebrated with her team.

“Hey,” you hear her voice and turn around to see her sweaty figure, as her cheesing grin never leaves her face. “Wait for me at the parking lot? I’ll give you a ride home.” She offers, and you nod, pulling down your mask, not wanting to hide your thrilled face. “You were amazing out there, Bada.” The sincerity of your voice made Bada weak to her knees, and she felt giddy inside. “Thanks. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” You nod, leaving the gym to the parking lot, where you wait, sitting on a bench. When Bada watches you go, she feels the butterflies in her stomach and stands there terrified. The girl started falling for you, the feelings piling up since your first study session. This couldn’t be happening. Bada’s pride wouldn’t let it happen, so she had to do something about it fast.

20 minutes had passed, and Bada still hadn’t come out. Worrying began to fill your mind. You kept checking your phone every minute, and the same anxiety overtook you. You decided to look for her, which honestly didn’t take long. You turned the corner of your school's building. You saw two figures holding each other tightly as they enthusiastically made out with each other.

Due to the darkness of the night, you squinted at the sight, but as it became clear, your heart broke into a million pieces, feeling like it was now dust. It was Bada and another girl. They pull away from each other, breathing heavily, and you hide behind the corner you turned from. “What about that other girl?” The unfamiliar voice asks. “What other girl?” “The girl wearing your jersey?” You swallowed lightly, your chest becoming heavy in your current position. “She’s no one, baby. Don’t worry about it. She was just a little bet.” You hear her, and you sob in silence, walking away from the detrimental scene that just occurred right in front of you.

You sit at the curb, staring at the stars, and laugh at yourself, “You’re so stupid, Y/n. So stupid,” you mumble, the tears getting harder to contain as Bada’s words repeat in your mind. Of course, you were just a bet for her. You were just another girl added to her collection, and it made you fall into despair. She cried to you and opened up, yet you were just another girl. You hit your head lightly in frustration with yourself. “Y/n?”

You jolt up from your spot, wiping your staining tears away, and turn around to find Haechi, who looks at you worried. “You okay?” You nod with a deep breath and huff, “Yeah, just feeling down right now. No biggy,” you try saving yourself, but the cracks in your voice tell the girl otherwise. “What are you still doing here-” She was about to ask but realized what may have happened since she saw Bada walking out with some blonde student from her Physics class. Haechi’s face was now painted sorrowfully, engulfing you in a hug. Her touch had triggered the waterworks again, and you were now crying again, breaths getting weaker when each tear dropped. “I’m so fucking stupid, Haechi. I hate her. I hate her so much,” the tall girl rubs your back, letting you release your anger and sadness. “Don’t say that Y/n-nie, you’re the smartest girl in school. Bada is just… ruthless.” Haechi states, some rage hiding under her voice. She had warned Bada, and the captain still went against her word. “I’m like every other girl, Haechi.”

The tall girl pulls away, shaking her head furiously, “No. No, you’re not. Come on, let me take you home.” You nod, too tired to say anything and sit in Haechi’s car, taking a nap on the way home as you wasted so much energy.

Bada was now trying to look for you everywhere, not noticing how long she took, keeping you waiting.

Bada Y/n? Where are you?

She waited for a response, but it never came. She began to worry but let the win of her game control her mind. An hour later, she was home, and you just got back to her.

Y/n-ah😚 My mom wanted me to go home early. Sorry.

Bada sighed in relief. At least you were safe at home. She was about to respond, but you texted her again.

Y/n-ah😚 About the project, don’t worry about it. I’m finishing it tonight and sending it to Professor Min tomorrow morning.

The tall girl furrows her brows.

Bada Are you okay?

Y/n-ah😚 Splendid.

Safe to say, Bada was terrified at your one-word answers. She felt back at square one, but little did she know she wasn’t even close. Not anymore.

The next time Bada saw you, you were both in school, and she approached you with your favorite drink. “My payment for last week,” she says, handing the drink to you, and you dismiss the interaction instantly. “I’m good,” you tell her and just walk away. Bada stares at you in confusion and is about to go after you but sees you standing at Haechi’s locker. From afar, her co-captain seemingly handed you a blue Monster can, and you hug the girl, thankfully. The interaction had Bada bothered and angry. You took Haechi’s drink but not hers?

She would talk to you about it one way or another, but she couldn’t find you the entire day. The fact that you didn’t have computer science today didn’t help the matter. So Bada decided to talk to you at your house. The rain began to pour, but it wasn’t stopping her from finding out what was wrong. She rang the bell at your gate, unsure if you were home, but when you opened the door, a glimmer of hope sparked until you spoke. “Go home, Bada.”

“What?” “I said go home,” your monotone voice made her want to hide. “Y/n, talk to me, please?” “Why should I?” She looks at you in shock. “What happened?”

“You wanna know so bad?” You walk up to the gate, anger fueling your eyes. Not even caring about the pouring weather. “Somehow, me being the smartest girl in school means nothing when it comes to you.”

Bada didn’t say a word, not knowing where this conversation was going. “Congrats, Bada, you made the top student in school look like the most mindless person in the world.” Bada’s eyes widen, “what do you mean-”

“Oh, don’t act stupid.” You groan and look at her with eyes of disgust. Bada sunk into the thought. She was back to square one. “I seriously don’t understand-” “You don’t understand sucking off another girl’s face while I waited for you in the parking lot? God, when I thought there was progress in your thought process these past few weeks, but I guess I was wrong.”

That’s what froze Bada, her heart dropping at the statement. You saw and heard everything. Bada only wanted to beg for forgiveness right then and there, but she knew she had no right to. It's not like you were gonna accept it anyway. “Y/n I-”

“Just save it, Bada. You don’t have to explain yourself. I get it. I’m just another girl, right? Or what was it you told blondie? A bet?” Bada had no words to save herself, wanting the ground to swallow her whole in shame. “Forget about it, Bada, forget we were ever friends.” You left the conversation at that, slamming the front door behind you. That’s when you broke down. The crying just couldn’t stop, kneeling on the floor of your home as the dreadful silence filled your ears as you heard the heavy rain and thunder pouring outside the windows. For once, you hated the silence.

The next day, Bada wanted to try and apologize again. She looked and looked, not finding you anywhere on campus. She then looks for her second-best bet and sees her standing with her friends. “Haechi!” Bada runs up to the girl as she waves her friends off. Her co-captains eyes held frustration, and it told Bada she also knew the situation. “Do you know where Y/n is?” “Why? So you can break her even more?” Bada knew to expect this, but she wasn’t expecting to be cornered by the girl who shoved her into the lockers.

“I fucking told you, Bada, but what Bada wants, Bada gets, right?” Haechi’s pointer finger drilled into her chest, and the captain winced in pain. “I-I wanna make it right.” “Too fucking late.”

Bada’s body ignores the pain at her words, “What do you mean?” Haechi looks at the girl whose eyes began to water slightly. “She’s leaving for the States. The school gave her an internship for 5 months.” Bada’s world crumbles, and she takes out her phone, sending you multiple messages.

Bada Y/n, I’m sorry. Please don’t go. It was a mistake. I was stupid. I was falling for you, and I was scared. Y/n?

Bada’s tears were uncontrollable as they fell, reading how her messages weren’t sending. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” Bada was now beating herself up in the middle of the hallway. She was hitting her head hard with her fist, pulling her hair harshly, and everyone who saw looked at her in worry. Haechi was shocked at the girl’s actions, seeing how bad she genuinely felt. She did her best to pull Bada’s arms away, and Bada slid down to the floor, blubbering as Haechi did her best to stop the girl from hurting herself. “I’m so fucking stupid, Haechi.” Her teammate didn’t know how to respond, just holding Bada’s arms down as she cried her pain away.

A/n: SHIT IS INTESNE RN DAM.

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