#because high school did that shit to me and all i got was the unwavering feeling of wanting to kms

[kenzie-ann27]

nothing gives me that kendall roy in secession kenergy quite like standing up to my mom via text then putting my phone on do not disturb because I fear confrontation

[tsukimefuku]

blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento

summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.

tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem. 

wc: 7.5k

notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.

writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).

disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.

oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?

It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.

Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.

During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.

One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento. 

"Are you certain it was him?"

"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."

"And how many students did he…"

"Two students from Kyoto."

Your head instantly felt dizzy.

"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."

"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.

 "This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"

Gojo was silent for a few moments.

"Hey…"

"Tell me. I can take it."

After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.

"Yes. It will."

Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.

For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.

"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."

"Of course."

Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.

He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.

There had been a few casualties, though.

Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.

Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.

To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself? 

That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.

They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.

Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death. 

Help was late to arrive.

They were too late for Haibara.

And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.

The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”

At least

There is a body 

To be buried

Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?

In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.

You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.

Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.

In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through. 

In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.

His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.

He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.

"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.

"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."

"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.

As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways. 

You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.

"Precisely."

"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."

You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.

For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.

His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.

Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.

Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.

You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.

Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.

"Why did you do it?"

Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.

"It was a necessary means to an end."

His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.

You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.

"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"

"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."

"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"

Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.

"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."

You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.

"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"

He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words. 

"Don't say his name."

Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.

But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.

This wasn't the case now.

Not entirely, at least.

"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.

"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."

"I'm not a would've been!"

You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely. 

You finally understood you were in love with him.

Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.

However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.

That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.

After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.

At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.

Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.

It felt like a promise.

Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.

What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.

What a cruel irony.

"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.

"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.

What a fucking low blow.

"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"

You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.

He diverted his gaze back to the window.

"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?" 

Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.

"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"

"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"

Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.

It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.

And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.

The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.

According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.

And you weren't there.

Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure. 

The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be. 

That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.

Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.

You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.

This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?

We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?

Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.

"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."

He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.

"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."

By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.

"The hell I did!"

You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.

"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."

"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."

You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.

"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!" 

Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.

"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."

He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.

"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."

"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.

"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"

"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."

Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.

"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."

In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.

However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.

Your own body held you back from taking his life.

He didn't seem to notice.

Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.

"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.

"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.

"You were never the practical one."

You scoffed.

"Guess I learned something from you."

He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression. 

Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.

You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up. 

Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.

The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.

You were cornered.

This is it.

You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.

Precise, just as he was.

Deadly, just as he was, too.

You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.

This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.

However, the impact never came.

His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was. 

“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.

“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly. 

“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”

You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.

“I fucking hate you, Nanami.” 

He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.

“I hate you as well.”

For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart. 

The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.

"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."

His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.

"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.

"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.

Just fucking kill me already.

His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?

Did he hate you that much?

His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots. 

His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.

You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.

When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.

"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.

"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.

He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.

You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.

"What?"

You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.

"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.

His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.

Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.

I should be over her by now, dammit.

Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.

You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.

The way he'd cup your face in his hands.

 So delicate, so lovely.

This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.

"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.

He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.

He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.

You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.

"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.

"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.

His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.

In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.

A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.

You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami. 

Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.

This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.

He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.

Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.

His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.

"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."

You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.

"Go fuck yours-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.

He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.

"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.

His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.

He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."

You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.

"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.

"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“ 

Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.

You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.

With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.

“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words,  “what to… ah- do!”

His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.

To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.

Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.

“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.

He couldn't help it.

Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.

He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss. 

Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.

In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.

Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.

He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.

Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.

You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.

Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.

You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.

If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.

“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”

You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.

After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.

You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.

For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.

With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.

“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice. 

“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.

But it couldn’t.

You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.

And wouldn’t go now, either.

That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.

Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.

“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.

You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.

Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.

His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.

After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.

You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.

You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.

In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.

But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.

He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution. 

Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.

You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost. 

Good riddance to me, I suppose.

His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.

He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.

“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. 

You could kiss him like this forever. 

You actually wanted to, at that moment.

To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you. 

Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.

Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.

You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.

Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.

Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.

Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.

Just like you were.

And just like Nanami was.

You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.

“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.

“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”

For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.

The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.

“Why?”

“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”

He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.

Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.

“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.

“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”

He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.

With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be  —, Nanami spoke again. 

“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”

For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”

Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.

He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.

You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.

But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.

Not with him, but with the people he had killed.

Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.

It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved. 

In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.

The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.

With a decade’s old delay.

“I… just can’t. I can’t.”

Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it. 

He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.

He felt pathetically small.

Guess we get what we deserve, after all.

“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.

You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.

“Go to hell.”

He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.

Sad.

“We’re already here.” 

At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.

You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.

If only the world had been a little kinder.

But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.

End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉

-

Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000

@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa

@codenamesongbird

[robotlesbianjavert]

THE Top 5 List Of All Time

okay per @stillness-in-green's question. and something really important that i'm sure ALL of my lovely fans, yes you i am talking about you and blowing you so many kisses, are dying to know. my Top 5 Gay Little Henchmen.

house cleaning first i'm excluding spinner and spinaraki from this list just because i've given spinner a lot of attention the past few weeks and have already extolled his virtues as a gay little henchman and how i think he really embodies this trope and he's so special to me i wanna cry about him like every day oh my god. oh my god. but that would be unfair considering the intensity of my current feelings (that have been consistent the last three years eyyy) anyways here's the rest of the list.

5. okay i will be honest this guy does not really count except fully on a technicality and bc of how much i love him. but enrico poggi from the stravaganza series now this is very much like, a junior high/middle school kind of series. but enrico is such a great dynamic character who spends like the first half of the series being a big opportunistic skeezy lackey tormented by the mysterious disappearance of his lackey and then the latter half of the series being like okay yeah i can work for the protagonist. and by the end has wholeheartedly devoted himself to the main character. and like he's significantly less homoerotic than a little henchman should be but he's a spy assassin who's squeamish and is good with kids and great with horses and will eat everyone's food and he's a good lil henchman with a full character arc and i love him on want him on my list. he could gay up a lil if i tried.

4. i said i wouldn't include spinner BUT DIDN'T SAY SHIT ABOUT ANY OTHER BNHA CHARACTER NYEH HEH HEH. it's really hard choosing between like redestro (to shigaraki) and trumpet (to redestro) and nemoto (to overhaul) but ultimately i have to give the bnha crown to ujiko for his devotions to AFO, primarily for plot impact and relationship longevity, but also because ujiko is sooooooo cute about AFO it makes me weep a little bit. for real.

3. isaac from castlevania 2017 eeeeyyyyyyyy now i never actually finished castlevania. because i got really lazy. but isaac was an immediate favourite and i know the scope of his character arc after the fact after losing dracula and it's so charming so charming. i've heard the "all so fucking rude" line it's BRILLIANT and also the idea of a henchman having to figure himself out after losing his boss..........groundbreaking. i need to finish the series one day or get the isaac supercut. only thing is that he should be shorter. but i persist.

2. soundwave babyyyyyyyy. specifically g1 and prime continuities, and to my understanding parts of the comics (idw series specifically - never got in depth with it but i know soundwave had Great Loyalty in it). from what i understand earthspark has fantastic divorced megatron/soundwave energy to it as well, though i am still heavily debating with myself how much i should watch it for myself. now soundwave doesn't get as much love as he SHOULD but his unwavering devotion to megatron and the decepticon cause.........the way that can so easily be shattered.........when the series lets soundwave be extra competent in an especially sexy way....... magic. also could be smaller but in g1 he turns into a tape deck, prime a skinny lil stealth jet, it works

before i reveal my number one i wanna give some quick special shout outs. harry/uma is not gay even though they both carry some energy. i've never actually watched disney's the descendants in their entirety but i did watch all the harry/uma scenes and it's good. it's a good ship. ummmm commander peepers, i never actually watched wander over yonder but i saw this guy around a bunch and immediately loved him from the start he's so tiny and such a go getter :) uhhh okay meowth doesn't count unless you read into his "fantasies about giovanni" era which is whatever but he is the blueprint for my love for henchmen overall and also just tiny fellows who range from antagonistic to just annoying. and gay lil henchmen are a subset of that.

and a different shout out to izzy hands from our flag means death. i am aware about the discourse surrounding the character i have read a lot of different meta from different perspectives and i got some context for various arguments. and i have decided that izzy hands is a great example of a gay little henchman even if stede is really hard for me to get past when trying to watch the show. i wanna know him so bad but it's difficult when i have to glaze past the main character.

AND NOW NUMBER ONE IS.........DRUM ROLLLLLLLL.........

gus grav from bakugan: new vestroia real kota fans KNOW THIS ABOUT ME this is the guy that really cracked me for the gay evil little henchman. is he from a good series. no. are he and spectra well-written characters. no. but he has such luscious hair and put his coat over spectra like a blanket and he tried to show spectra the joy of juiceboxes and he went on the run with him and he tried to fight a guy who insulted spectra despite being told not to and DIED for it but didn't actually die he just showed up again and previously spectra had a sad moment about gus not being around and when gus shows up again spectra is like "wow about time" or whatever. listen i had a lot of feelings about gus being "killed off" and then just unceremoniously brought back and then in a latter series when he shows up with spectra as a good guy with a new outfit BUT I CAN'T SEE THE OUTFIT IN ITS ENTIRETY? also the episode where he tries to fight a guy for spectra and dies, he disguises himself by tying his hair back and wearing a lil waiters outfit and putting on glasses AND AGAIN, CAN'T SEE THE FIT IN FULL, WILDLY HOMOPHOBIC. gus was really one of those characters that clicked hard with me despite everything and ignited my mind like few others could. of course this was also during my naive teenage years so i was also shipping him with his boss' younger sister but i stand by that and still think it would be funny. but gus grav was the first time in my memory that i went "wow. homoerotic devotion to the point of obsession and self-destruction is kind of sexy." and for that he will always be so special and influential to me.

[im-657-mv]

summertime

[requested]

yandere will byers

word count: 1213

this is the letter referenced throughout the story

Dear My Loveliest Y/n,

I really love you so much Y/n, I really do. And you always look so, so pretty, my love. I wish I could just kiss you forever and ever and ever and ever. You make me feel so many things, things that even words can't begin to describe. Please Y/n, let me love you, let me be your servant, your slave. And all of this is in the name of love, our love. Because that's what makes me feel so alive. You make me feel alive, in so many more ways than one. You're all I can think about. And I only want to think about you. It's always you. Every dream is about you. Every thought is about you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Love, your one and only,

Will Byers

It was the last day of school, and you were gathering all your things from your locker, just like everybody else. Things were messy and chaotic already but the added rush of everyone wanting the signatures of their friends on their yearbooks made leaving so much harder. And you just want to leave, to be home and not think about high school, and to forget about Will.

Now, Will was nice and all but he creeped you out, in more ways than one. For example, for a school project about heroes, famous heroes, by the way, Will choose you. And when he was explaining why he choose you, well it didn't exactly give you butterflies.

"They're just so beautiful and everyone should know who they really are. Because I would do anything for them, anything. They are worth the gratification of many, and all… The whole world should know who Y/n L/n is…"

And the whole time he was looking at you. Deadeye contact, unwavering and unmoving until he was gently ushered by the teacher telling him to sit down. The whole class was silent from then on, and you were… well you were unsettled, to say the least. And it only got worse from there.

The next thing to start happening was love letters. They were nice at first, always starting off with,

'Dear My Loveliest Y/n,'

And of course, you kept on reading them. How could you not when they made you feel so…special. As if you were worth something so much more than words could describe. But then things took a turn, and the once cute letters turned red.

'I really love you so much Y/n, I really do.'

And the letters really did scare you,

'And you always look so, so pretty, my love.'

-because they just kept on coming.

'I wish I could just kiss you forever and ever and ever and ever.'

And it didn't stop there, not once did he forget.

'You make me feel so many things, things that even words can't begin to describe.'

And you kept on ignoring them. Time after time, you took the letters and threw them away. And maybe that was your first mistake, ignoring him. Because ignoring the problem only makes it bigger.

So to say that you were happy about the end of the school year would be the biggest understatement. You were finally going to be free from all the letters, the staring, and the following. You were finally going to feel, be alone.

"Y/n!"

Shit.

"would you sign my yearbook?"

You turned around and there he was. Will Byers standing three feet behind you, blank yearbook in hand with a desperate sparkle in his eyes looking at you. 'This will be the last time you see him, so just get it over with.'

"Yeah, sure." And with that, he eagerly gave you one of his pens to sign your name with.

As you signed your name you could feel his eyes fixed intently on you, and they were burning holes into your skull, you could feel it. You were uncomfortable, but you just kept on thinking that after this, he'd be gone, forever.

"There you go, all done."

"T-Thank you… Y/n" Will managed to squeak out while still looking at you, his eyes steady and focused. You held out his pen to give back, but he didn't seem to notice it anymore.

"Wi-"

"Yes, Y/n."

"Your pen." You moved your hand forward indicating the one that still ties you to this unwanted interaction.

"Oh yeah," he said slowly reaching for the pen, purposefully brushing his hand against yours as he took it into his hands. You immediately turned away, ready for this day to be over, and ready to head home.

But Will, Will just stood there, looking back and forth at the pen that had your touch and your body that was walking away from his. He took a few steps forward, gripping both his pen and his blessed yearbook tightly in his hands. 'I can't lose them.'

Walking forward he kept his eyes solely focused on you, watching as you exited the school, while he stayed back a few feet, so he wouldn't get caught. 'Were you going home?' Was this his chance to convince you, to tell you that he loved you?

'Please Y/n, let me love you, let me be your servant, your slave.'

Will looked down at his yearbook and decided to follow you home. To your home, to his home. He watched you get on your bike and waited a painfully long three seconds before getting on his own, trailing behind you ever so quietly. 'This is our time. My time'

'And all of this is in the name of love, our love. Because that's what makes me feel so alive. You make me feel, alive in so many more ways than one.'

You rode your bike home enjoying the fresh air of the summer, not forgetting to admire the beautiful landscape as well. And something inside you told you, that this was going to be the best summer ever.

'You're all I can think about. And I only want to think about you.'

You got home, put away your bike, and went inside to relax, leaving your backpack by the back door.

'It's always you.'

You decided to go upstairs, to your room, to listen to some music. You popped in a disc turning it up all the way. No one was home anyway, so no one was able to complain about the loud music coming from your bedroom.

'Every dream is about you. Every thought is about you.'

After one song, you heard something coming from downstairs, and you knew your parents wouldn't be home at this time. 'Was this an intruder? A robber?' Shaking, you gained the courage to take a peek out of your doorway, hoping that you wouldn't get killed.

'Well, no ones up here.' You thought as you stood up a little bit taller. You walked out and made your way to the stairs. 'Time to check out the rest of the house.' You made your way to the bottom of the stairs scouting out your surroundings before continuing onward.

Once you thought it was okay to move on you made your way into the kitchen, moving extra stealthily. Looking over everything you checked if they were in their rightful places since this morning. 'Coast is clear.' You took a breath of relief and turned around heading back upstairs.

'I love you. I love you. I love you.'

And Will thanked you silently in his mind, as he stalked forward, quietly behind you, with a metal pan in both of his hands.

"Forgive me, Y/n." He muttered quickly and quietly, under his breath, as he struck you in the back of your head, knocking you out completely.

And he watched as you fell instantly to the ground. He moved slowly to your body, and kneeled, his upper half hovering over yours. His eyes scanned your every feature slowly and carefully.

"You look so pretty close up… Prettier than all my dreams combined." He whispered to himself as he caressed your face, admiring your pretty lips.

'Love, your one and only,

Will Byers'

[leossmoonn]

Girl Crush 2

part 1 | masterlist

pairing robin buckley x fem!reader, steve harrington x fem!reader

note - pls read part one before you read this one ! :)

type - angst, fluff

summary - while dating steve, you develop a crush on robin

warnings / includes - language, steamy make out session, fighting, cheating, very messy 😭

————

*gif isn’t mine*

You slam the door shut, holding your face in your hands while you pace back and forth. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Robin nervously chews her lip, fiddling with the belt loops of her jeans. “T-This was an accident, right? I mean, we were caught in the moment.”

A waterfall of tears stream down your face. You put your back against the wall and slide down, curling up in a ball. “I’m so fucking stupid. God, I’m such a horrible girlfriend. I’m a horrible person.”

Robin sits down across from you, putting her hand on your knee. “You’re not a horrible person, Y/n.”

You look at up at her, your eyes already bloodshot. “I am, Robin. I just hurt Steve. This is the second time he has been hurt by a girlfriend. I swore to him that o would be better than Nancy, but I’m actually worse. I kissed his best friend. I-I ruined everything. I-It’s all my fault,” you sob.

Robin sighs, debating on what to say. Seeing you break down like this breaks her heart and leaves her a little speechless. You’re always so put together. In the couple of years she’s known you, she has never once seen you cry. But now that she has, she wants to do everything in her power to stop it.

“So what, you kissed me?” Robin asks. “Doesn’t mean anything. Especially since you’ve never been with a girl before, right?”

You hiccup and shake your head. “That doesn’t excuse anything.”

“If you just explain to Steve that it was a mistake and you didn’t like it, then —”

“Robin,” you say, your voice suddenly low and unwavering. You look her in the eyes and sit up. “Do you really think I “got caught up in the moment” and that I didn’t like it?”

Robin looks away, biting her lip anxiously. “N-No. But I don’t want to mess up your relationship.”

“The only person who messed up my relationship was me. You did nothing. You were… perfect.”

“Still, I feel bad,” she mumbles. “I’m sorry for doing this to you and Steve. To you and I,” you say.

Robin chuckles a little, shyly glancing at you. “Are you kidding? That kiss was the highlight of my life. If you weren’t dating Steve, I would have asked you out.”

You give her a watery smile. “The kiss was amazing for me, too.” Your smile diminishes as you continue speaking. “But… I can’t focus on that. I have to figure out a way to make this right with Steve. If he hates me forever, then fine. That’s fine because I deserve that. But I need him to know that I loved him so much and that everything I did and everything I said to him wasn’t a lie.”

“He’ll know, Y/n. Hell, he already knows. You have no idea how much he talks about you at Family Video. And he’s not only saying how pretty you are. He’s always saying how much of a good girlfriend you are, how thoughtful you are, how loving, supportive, funny you are.”

“Oh, Robin,” you sniffle, another cycle of waterworks flooding. “H-He says all of that?”

She nods with a little smile. “Every damn day.”

Your heart breaks more. “That makes me feel even more terrible.”

“No! I’m so sorry. I-I thought it was going to be nice to hear,” Robin apologizes. “I didn’t mean to make you cry again. I’m so sorry.”

“I-It’s okay,” you take a deep breath. “Just makes me realize how great of a boyfriend he is.”

“I hate to admit it, but he is. It makes me really jealous, actually,” Robin chuckles. “You’ll find someone Robin. It’s so much easier to find someone out of high school. I just got lucky,” you say.

She shakes her head. “No, it’s not like that. He makes me jealous because he makes me want you more.”

Your eyes widen and a little “oh” leaves your lips.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “But it doesn’t matter.”

You frown and offer a comforting hand on her arm. “Robin, it does matter. I —”

You two are interrupted when the door opens. Your heart races as you see Steve looking down at you two.

“Hey, what’re you guys doing?” he asks. You panic and look at Robin. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You feel like you’re about to throw up.

Robbin’s eyes slowly look away from you and to Steve. “She got her period,” she blurts.

Steve raises his brows. “O-Okay. Are you… in pain?”

“No. She was just really upset because she wanted you two to have sex tonight, but obviously, you guys can’t, and she feels bad. And you know, periods make us gals insane and really weepy, so…” Robin trails off.

You’re surprised by how fast Robin made up that cover story, but there’s no room for you to tell the truth.

“Oh, baby,” Steve chuckles. He sits down on the floor next to you and puts his arm over your shoulder. “Don’t worry about that. We can spend the night cuddling and watching movies and eating so much ice cream we explode.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words. You stare into his eyes, feeling the bridge of your nose burn in attempt to hold back tears.

You realize that no matter what happens, he will always make you happy. He’ll always be that one person that just gets you. The one person who still gives you butterflies past the honeymoon phase. Who makes you feel special, loved, supported, and satisfied with everything in life.

But he won’t be the person who gets to be with you forever. Not after tonight.

“Honey, don’t cry.” he cups your cheek with his hand, wiping away the tears with his thumb. “It’s okay, okay? I’m not mad or sad, so you shouldn’t be. Plus, I use condoms anyways,” he smirks.

You laugh again, your whole face lighting up. Robin stares at you two, guilt overcoming her. She knows the cheating is your fault, but she can’t help but blame herself. She looks at you with Steve and all that’s written on your face is joy. How could Robin be so stupid? You are meant to be with Steve, not her. No matter what exciting, new feelings you may have for anyone else, including Robin.

“I’ll leave you two.” Robin gets up and grabs her belt. You stare at her as she leaves, “I’m sorry” on the tip of your tongue. Your heart sinks as she avoids your gaze, roughly pulling the door open.

“What’s up with her?” Steve asks. “She’s just hungry. She gets hangry,” you lie.

Steve nods. “Me, too. Well, do you want to keep the party going or do you want to just chill out?”

“Doesn’t matter to me. It’s your birthday,” you say.

“But your my girlfriend who generously set this all up,” he smiles. “It’s my job,” you shrug.

Steve put his thumb on your chin and holds your head up to look at him. “I know I don’t say this much, but I am so thankful for you. I’m sorry I don’t remind you enough. I need to do that more.”

“Oh, Steve,” you sigh. “I already know all this. You do more than enough to let me know. It’s okay.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s not. You’re always saying how great I am, I need you to know how great you are.”

All you can do is smile through the pain. You hug him tightly, burying your face into his neck. You let a few tears shed, squeezing your eyes shut as you enjoy his comforting arms. You don’t know how many times you’ll be able to do this so you promise yourself to cherish whatever time you have left with him.

“I love you so much, Steve,” you whisper. “So, so much.”

“I know you do, baby. I love you so much. You’re the best,” he mumbles into your neck.

“No, you are,” you whisper it like a promise.

He pulls away to kiss you. You want to cry harder, but you keep your composure. You tangle your hand in his hair and push yourself up against him, kissing him so hard you might bruise his lips.

Steve pulls away, a little breathless. He looks into your eyes, noticing they still look a little sad. “Are you sure you’re okay? Did anything else happen?”

Your heart pounds and you can barely swallow. You know you should tell him right now, but it’s still his birthday. You didn’t want to be an even worse girlfriend.

“No, nothing else happened. I just hate my period,” you lie.

He nods, “understandable. Do you need me to get anything for you?”

You shake your head. “No, thank you. Let’s go back to the party.”

“Okay. If you’re done with it, just let me know.”

You nod and stand up, a little wobbly. Steve wraps an arm around you and walks you out. Max and Lucas look at you blankly while Robin is still avoiding your gaze. You shake your head at Max and Lucas while Steve leads you back to the dance floor.

You put your attention back on Steve, smiling at him as he sets his hands on your waist. He looks at you with stars in his eyes, making you melt on the inside. You naturally wrap your arms around his neck, clasping your hands together as you two sway to the beat of the music.

You two spend the rest of the night dancing with the kids, Robin standing in the corner and reading for most of the night.

“Happy birthday, old man!” Dustin smiles at Steve. “Just wait. You’ll be 20 in no time,” Steve smirks.

“Don’t remind me,” Dustin rolls his eyes.

“Bye, guys,” you smile at the kids as they leave. Steve goes over to the snack table for more pretzels, allowing Max and Lucas to come up to you.

“Obviously you didn’t tell him,” Max says. “I wasn’t going to tell him tonight. It’s his birthday,” you scoff.

“How long had this been going on?” Lucas asks. “It was only that one kiss!” you exclaim in a hushed voice.

“Better not be another one. You know how badly Steve was hurt after Nancy,” Max glares at you.

You sigh and nod, putting your hand on your forehead. “Yeah, I know. It won’t happen again. I hate hurting him and I already know I did, even if he doesn’t feel it yet.” You glance at him again. You can’t help but smile as he tries to be a walrus with the pretzels.

“He’s a great guy. He doesn’t deserve this. Especially since you were kissing a girl,” Lucas states.

You glare at them. “I know! Do you think I wanted this to happen? You guys know how much I love Steve. You guys know that he… he’s my one and only. I have our wedding planned out.”

“Then why did you kiss Robin?” Max asks. You slump against the doorframe and state at Robin as she nibbles on a snicker bar. “It’s different with her,” you say truthfully.

“That doesn’t mean it’s better,” Max says. “Yeah, I know,” you frown, lowering your gaze at your shoes.

Max sighs and puts her hand on your shoulder. “We know you love Steve, but you have to decide if you’re in love with him, or if you’re in love with Robin.”

You nod, “yeah. You’re right.”

“Good luck,” Lucas sighs. “Thanks,” you roll your eyes.

“We’ll see you soon,” Max says. She interlocks fingers with Lucas as they walk out of your house.

“Is that the last of the rug rats?” Steve asks. “Yep,” you nod.

“Hey, Robin. Want to watch a movie with us?” Steve suggests.

“Um, no.” Robin shakes her head. “I have to go home. Great party, Y/n. Happy birthday, Steve.”

“Thanks,” Steve says as she walks out. He closes the door and turns to you. “She’s acting more weird than normal.”

You shrug, “I don’t know what’s wrong. Maybe she’ll tell you tomorrow during work.”

Steve nods, “Yeah, maybe.”

Turns out, Robin did tell him what was wrong. She told him the truth, but not the full truth.

“She’s my girlfriend, Robin!” Steve exclaims. “I know, I’m sorry!” Robin sighs.

“And you’re supposed to be my best friend!”

“I know. I said I’m sorry.”

“I know it’s hard to find girls in Hawkins, but that doesn’t give you the right to steal mine,” Steve glares.

“I-I know. You have no idea how terrible I feel! B-But at least I told you, right?” Robin asks.

“Yeah,” Steve scoffs. He sets his hands on his hips and paces around Family Video, realization occurring. “That’s why she was acting so weird.”

“Yeah, she feels so bad, Steve,” Robin nods. “Why didn’t she tell me?” Steve frowns.

“It was your birthday. And plus, I’m the one who made the move,” Robin lies.

Steve nods. “Yeah, makes sense, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry, Steve. I promise it’ll never happen again,” Robin says, looking him dead in the eyes.

Steve searches her eyes, his heart strings being tugged. But he can’t forgive Robin. Not yet. Not when it’s so fresh. “Yeah, I… I need to go see Y/n. I can’t be here right now.”

Robin sighs helplessly. “Please, Steve!”

But he’s already out the door and on his way to you. You’re asleep on the couch when he knocks. The sound jolts you awake and you panic. 

“Y/n, it’s Steve!”

You sigh in relief, but a different type of panic sets in. “Coming!” you shout. You throw your blanket off of you and open the door for him. You gasp as his eyes are red and watery. “W-What happened?”

“Robin told me what happened.”

Your stomach drops to your feet. You suddenly feel nauseous and numb. “W-What did she say?”

“She said how she kissed you and how she’s in love with you,” Steve explains.

Your brows rise. “She said what?”

“Yeah, can you believe it?” he scoffs. He walks into your house and sits down on the couch. “I mean, I understand that it’s hard for her to find someone that’s out and a girl that likes girls. But, she chooses you? My girlfriend. That’s so… disrespectful. Don’t get me wrong, I can see why she likes you. I mean, look at you. You’re stunning, but my girl? I just… I thought she was my best friend.”

You sit down and holds Steve’s forearm. “Steve, she’s still your best friend. I don’t —”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Not after this. You know, if she wanted my help she could have asked me. I could have gotten her a girl, or tried to. But she picked the one person that is unavailable. And you don’t even like girls, so it wasn’t even worth it.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he keeps talking.

“I’m so mad,” he seethes. “And you,” his head snaps to you. Your mind races with what he could say next. You can barely breathe, thinking that he will suddenly turn on you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “You were so kind and thoughtful last night. Not telling me because you thought it would ruin my night. And I mean, it definitely would have, but it just shows even more how you’re the perfect girl.”

“I’m not the perfect girl,” you shake your head. “I let it happen. I didn’t stop… her, and I just let her kiss me. I’m the worst,” your voice breaks as you begin to cry again.

“Baby, you’re not. Maybe you just got caught in the moment, or you were so shocked that you didn’t know what to do. It’s happened to all of us.”

You nod, “yeah. It was definitely one of those things.”

Steve sighs and lays back on the couch, thinking for a few moments. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive her.”

You look at him, sitting up straighter and looking him in the eyes. “Steve, there’s something you should know.”

He gulps visibly. “W-What is it?”

“I…” you look away at your coffee table. “I… I like girls, too.”

Steve’s heart jumps up his throat. “Y-You do.”

“Yeah,” you look back at him. “But that doesn’t mean I like you any less. It just means…”

“You like boobies like I like boobies,” Steve says.

You chuckle softly. “Yeah, you could put it that way.”

“That’s… good to know. Now I have to watch out for both guys and girls,” he jokes.

You feel a little bit hopeful at his reaction. “So, you’re not mad or anything? You don’t love me any less?”

He smiles softly and sits up. He rests one hand on your thigh and reaches the other up to your cheek, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. “Of course, I’m not mad. Nor do I love you any less. It’s a little surprising, of course, but I don’t see you any differently.”

You cry again, this time in relief. “Oh, thank God. I-I’ve been so worried you would break up with me over this.”

“I never would,” he shakes his head. “And why would I? I’m fine with Robin being gay.”

“Yeah, but people are more offensive to people who like both genders.”

“Well, you chose me out of the billion people in the world, so I’m lucky,” he smiles.

You gaze into his eyes and you can’t help but grin. “I’m so lucky, too.” you rest your forehead against his and press your lips to his. He hums happily, wrapping his arm around your back and pulling you close. His other hand grabs your leg and swings it over his lap. You breathe out as you sit on his lap, open-mouth kissing him and slipping your tongue into his mouth.

His hands slip down your thighs, toying with the drawstring on your sweats. You smile into the kiss as he unites it, gently tugging on the elastic to loosen your pants. As he slips his hands in, a chill goes up your spine. You pull away to look at Steve, shocked to see Robin in his place.

“Hey, baby,” she smiles, her raspy voice enticing you. Her hands move up your body and under your shirt, skimming the underwire of your bra. She takes a handful of your tits in both hands, massaging them over the cups of your bra.

You hum in pleasure, rocking your hips with hers. She begins to kiss your neck, sucking on the spot that makes you whine. You feel her lips curl up into a smile and you smile with her.

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” she asks. “Mmhmm,” you nod, focusing more on how good it feels to have her hands on you.

“It’s fun lying to your boyfriend. It’s fun breaking his heart and causing him to not have a best friend anymore.”

Your smile quickly diminishes and you pull away, confused as to why she’s not there anymore. You look around the room, your heart jumping out of your throat as you see a big grandfather clock. You can’t hear anything else now but its merciless ticking.

You’re frozen in place. You can’t seem to bring yourself to move and run away. You’re so shocked and scared. All you can do is hope that you wake up.

Meanwhile, in reality, Steve is trying to shake you awake. He noticed something was off when you pulled away and smiled at him differently than usual. Now you’re staring into space, not moving, speaking, or even breathing.

“Baby, wake up,” Steve panics. “C’mon, you’re stronger than him. Wake up, please.”

You wake up a couple seconds later, eyes jolting across the room and your chest heaving. Steve sighs in relief, hugging you close to him.

“God, I thought I lost you,” he mutters.

You do nothing but break down in his arms.

“Sshh, baby, it’s okay. You’re safe now,” he rubs your back.

You shake your head. “I-I’m not. I-I’m going to die soon.”

“No, you won’t. Max survived it and you will, too,” Steve says.

You hiccup and pull away to face him. “S-Steve, there’s something I need to tell you.”

He furrows his brows. “Okay, what is it? Is it about something you saw?”

“N-No. It’s about Robin. She —”

“Yo!” Dustin’s voice shouts form the outside. He pounds on your door. “I know you guys are here! I can see your car. Stop having sex! We can’t have Y/n pregnant while Vecna is still out there!”

Steve rolls his eyes and looks back at you. “You can tell me later, yeah?”

“O-Okay,” you swallow harshly.

“Guys! We need to get Eddie food!” Dustin yells.

“Alright, I’m coming!” Steve groans. He gently rolls you off of his lap, giving your forehead a kiss before he opens the door. “Thank you for disturbing half of the neighborhood.”

“The neighborhood loves me!” Dustin grins. “And it took you long enough. Were you two getting dressed or — oh.” Dustin stops as he sees you crying in a ball. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, douchebag,” Steve glares at him.

“What’s wrong? Did you make her cry?” Dustin gasps.

“What? No! Of course not! She…” Steve sighs. “She saw Vecna. Or the grandfather clock. Or one of those two.”

Dustin’s brow raise and his jaw drops. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “W-Well, we’ve beat him before. I mean, maybe we can get her to listen to her favorite song ahead of time to stop him?” Dustin suggests.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Steve nods.

“Hey, Y/n,” Dustin says softly. He walks over to you, putting his hand on your shoulder. “I have Oreos if you want some. They’re double stuffed.”

You let out a little laugh. You wipe your nose and look up. “I’m good. Thanks, Dusty.”

“You sure?” Steve asks. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

You look off into the distance, not being able to get Robin’s words out of your head. She was so real. You reached out and touched her, you kissed her. But it was really Vecna.

You feel disgusting. Your skin feels dirty and your chest hurts. You shoot up from the couch, not saying anything as you walk to your bathroom, immediately stripping off your clothes and turning on the shower.

Dustin and Steve watch you slam the door in confusion.

“Is she okay?” Dustin asks. Steve rolls his eyes. “She’s seeing Vecna. Do you think she’s okay?”

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Dustin says, sitting down next to Steve. “What could she be guilty about? She’s the most innocent person I know.”

Steve sighs and nods. “I know, that’s what I’m thinking, too. I mean, she just told —” he stops himself, Dustin’s brows raising in question.

“She just told you what?”

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” Steve shakes his head.

“Are you sure?” Dustin asks. “It could be important.”

“Trust me, it isn’t,” Steve says. He looks at your bathroom door, trying to rack his brain for what it could be.

You couldn’t be guilty about the kiss with Robin, could you? Robin said it herself that it was her fault. That it was a mistake and that you didn’t even like it.

A horrible thought entered Steve’s mind. What if you did like it?

He erases the thought from his head. Just because you came out to him doesn’t mean that it has anything to do with what happened with Robin. It’s just a coincidence… right?

————

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Part 3

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@rootbeerfaygo @murdockcastleslut @bluebberrypie @milkiane @mitskimybelovedd @munsaniac @sapphic-girl @ariianelle

[bestiesenpai]

itadori + sukuna, twins + babysitting

This is a mix of headcanons and a fic. Also, I’m going to do this as a ‘reader was their babysitter years ago but now everyone is all grown up and seeing each other again’ type thing. And femme reader!

Sorry if Itadori is a little OOC it just fits the plot, tw: dubconish? Maybe?

Babysitting Yuji and Sukuna was fun and an easy way to make money

They were the twins a few years younger than you across the street, so it was only natural for their parents to enlist your help in watching them

The pay was good, and while dealing with Sukunas practically destructive tendencies drained you at times, it was still fun to hang out with them and grow up together

Yuji was nice and sometimes a bit of a crybaby, whether it be because Sukuna did something or because he just wanted to cry that day

He often told Sukuna off for being bad and messing with you, but a lot of the times Yuji was just trying to save face when he and Sukuna got caught doing something troublesome

Sukuna, we already know is a little devil child and lived to annoy you

Ya know the meme of ‘what do you have? A KNIFE! No!’ that is Sukuna lol he knows he can be good and get your attention that way but where is the fun in that?! Answer there is no fun in that

As they get older and their parents don’t call you around anymore, they do get sad and complain

You’re just older than them that they can’t hang out with you outside of you babysitting them, it’d be weird

So they try to let you go, but you’re always in the back their minds, especially when they see you out with friends or something and they can’t stop looking at you

They’ve always had a crush, always.

And when you go away for college every year, they’re devastated. They come to say goodbye and you ruffle their hair like you used to and promise that you’ll visit them when you come back for break

And let’s be real they mark that shit on their calendar and wait for the day you come back

Sukuna is the one to invite you into the house when you come to visit them on your school break. He can’t keep his eyes off the way you fill out your clothes and the way your ass moves when you walk. You’ve grown up a lot, but so have they.

“Aw, I remember this!” You grin, holding up a picture frame of the three of you together the summer you got braces.

“Yeah.” Sukuna chuckles and closes the door. Yuji is here too, awkwardly sitting on his bed and staring at you with hearts in his eyes. Setting down the frame, you fall back onto the bed Yuji is sitting on. Even as they grow older, they still share a bedroom, and you can see Sukunas messy half of the room.

“(Y/N).” Yuji says softly, grabbing your hand in his. This isn’t uncommon for him, he used to beg you to hold his hand when he was younger. Lacing your fingers together, the smile you send him has him squeezing your hand tightly.

Sukuna had been standing at the door for a while now, fiddling with a stereo trying to pick the right background music. Finally settling on something, you don’t hear the click of the lock on the door and you certainly don’t notice the way the two of them share a look.

“Hey (Y/N).” Sukuna grunts, sitting on your other side.

“Yeah?”

“What’s college like? You’ve been there a couple years, you’re a veteran.” He puts an arm around your shoulder, leaning back and making his chest appear bigger to try and impress you.

“I only just started my third year.” Chuckling, you lean into him a little bit.

“Yeah, but still.”

“It’s way different than high school, that’s for sure. You two will like it when you go.”

“I wish we could go to college at the same time!” Yuji groans, curling himself into your side and pouting. “I want to go to classes with you.”

“Fuck classes, I want to go to parties.” Sukuna cuts in. “College parties must be wild, huh? You can tell us, (Y/N).”

“Some of them are.” Wrapping your arm around Yuji, you adjust to let him cuddle more into your side. Sukuna lets out a loud snort and shakes his head, not believing a word you say.

“C’mon (Y/N), you can be honest. I bet all you do at these parties is drink and fuck.” Neither Sukuna nor Yuji have ever spoken to you like that before. Your relationship was always kept PG-13 at most, a few gross crude jokes about making out and having sex when you were younger, but nothing vulgar.

“Well-” Your face flushes with heat, and Yuji is quick to sit up and look at you with owlish eyes.

“Is that true, (Y/N)? You fuck at these parties?”

“Guys!” Slapping a hand over your now burning face, you don’t miss the way they chuckle. “How is that any of your business?”

“C’mon, we aren’t kids anymore! We can talk about this stuff!” Sukuna scoffs, and the arm around your shoulder shakes you from side to side. “Just tell us, it’s not that big a deal.”

“Yeah, we’re older now.” Sitting up a little straighter, Yuji’s hand that was holding yours let's go and settles on your thigh. Biting your lip, you look between the two identical boys. Their stares are unwavering and nearly enough to make you too embarrassed to speak.

“Yes, I have fucked at these parties-” As soon as the words leave your mouth Sukuna lets out a holler and laughs, jostling you further.

“I knew it!”

“What’s it like, (Y/N)?” Yuji questions, and his hand squeezes your thigh tightly. The two of them have fully encased you, making it impossible to squirm out of their hold or escape their eyes.

“I don’t know if I should tell you.” They aren’t the same young kids you used to babysit. They’re fully grown men now, still growing into themselves but old enough that if you saw them at one of your college parties, you wouldn’t bat an eye.

“Please!” It only takes Yuji a little more pushing to get you to crack.

“It’s not that great a lot of the time, really. The boys at my college aren’t the best lay if you can believe it.” Rolling your eyes at the memory of your most recent escapade, you relax a little bit. “I mean honestly, how is it impossible for them to find the clit when I literally point right at it?”

“What a joke!” Sukuna chuckles, and his arm drops to settle around your waist. His fingers splay across your ribs, cupping just under your breast. “(Y/N) if you were with us we could make you feel ten times better!”

“Yeah, okay.” Laughing lightly at the proclamation, you think nothing of the way Yuji wraps his arms around your hips. He’s got a pout on his lips and his fingers start to dip beneath the waistband of your bottoms.

“We’re serious.” He says, eyes scrunched up a little from how intense he is. “We love you (Y/N), we can make you feel better than anyone else.”

“You love me?” Quirking a brow, you look at both of them. Yuji always said he loved you when he was younger, but Sukuna had always denied it with a fierce blush on his cheeks.

“We do, what about it?” There’s the telltale blush on his cheeks. Sukuna can see your smirk and it pisses him off, so much that he pushes you down to the bed.

Wrestling with Sukuna was a pastime the two of you enjoyed when you were annoying one another. He’d push you, you’d push him, and then the two of you would end up in a mess of limbs on the floor. This time felt no different, and you fought back like you always did. Wriggling away from him and trying to pin him down, you somehow ended up in the middle of the bed with Sukuna sitting on your legs.

“Ha, I win.” He says breathlessly. It wasn’t a fair fight to be honest, he and Yuji had begun working out ever since they hit puberty, so his strength easily outmatched yours. You easily conceded and tried to sit up, but Sukuna didn’t budge.

“Let me up.” You try to yank your legs out from under him but he just pushes more of his weight on you. Yuji is on the bed as well, sitting near your chest and looking at you with that same starry eyed look. He’s not looking at you, he’s looking at the way your shirt clings to your chest, the outline of your bra clear as day for him.

“(Y/N), will you let us show you how good we can make you feel?” He asks, licking his lips nervously. His hand settles on your stomach, palm hot and itching to feel your breast. You don’t answer, and they take that as a green light.

Sukuna is the first to take his shirt off, flexing the muscles he’s worked hard to get. Yuji follows suit, and they take their pants off as well, leaving you the most dressed person in the room. There was an argument brewing in the back of your throat, saying that it was wrong to do this since you’d known them for so long. But now, seeing them as they wanted to be seen, burgeoning men that clearly had a desire to be with you, that argument seemed silly.

“What-” You start, and the word catches in your throat for a moment at what you’re about to say. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh baby.” Sukuna lets out a low groan, an almost sickening grin stretching his cheeks. “We’ve done a lot of research.” His hands are already working your bottoms down your legs, leaving you in your panties.

“(Y/N), lift your arms.” Yuji whispers, tugging your shirt off. They’re both silent when they see your nearly naked body; something they’d fantasized about many times. Leaning down, Yuji kisses you abruptly, and that sets Sukuna off to take your panties off as well. Yuji takes your bra off, placing it with the large pile of clothes on the floor.

Climbing off your legs, Sukuna forces them open, nearly kneeing Yuji in the face when he pushes your legs up.

“Shit. Look at this.” Yanking Yuji by the shoulder, they both settle between your legs and stare directly at your cunt. In that moment, you’re reminded of their inexperience and lack of knowledge, and it’s almost innocent.

Spreading your lower lips with two fingers, Yuji leans forward, puckers his lips, and spits onto your cunt, making it clench around nothing.

Innocence, gone.

“What should we start with first?” Sukuna asks, giving you a once over.

“What do you want to do? I know you always talk about tasting her.” Yuji, always so polite, scoots back and lets his brother take up all the space between your legs.

“Thanks little bro.”

“You’re only older by two minutes.”

“Best two minutes of my life.” Laughing, Sukuna slaps your thighs with both hands and moves to lay on his stomach. “Just relax, (Y/N). We’re going to take good care of you.” Yuji is also laying down with his mouth hovering over one of your nipples.

“Yeah (Y/N).” Yujis breath fans over your nipple, and his eyes are torn between looking at you and looking at your chest. “We love you.”

[nadisabug]

How They React To You Gaining Weight

Pairing: Bokuto Kotaro/Iwaizumi Hajime/Tsukishima Kei x fem! reader

Requested: @animexwonderland

Genre: Angst, Hurt/comfort

Warnings: okay so there is A LOT of self hate in this one, lots of insecure thoughts and overall sad times BUT comfort at the end, cursing, and suggestive themes 

Word Count: 2k

A/N: ofc if you give me the choice I’ll pick tsukki bby

Haikyuu Masterlist // Part 2

Bokuto K.

"Baby come here," Kotaro whined.

"No!" You darted away from him again.

"Please just let me pick you up!"

For some reason, your boyfriend got it into his head that it would be cute for you two to do the classic end-of-Hallmark-movie spin together. The one where the two run towards each other and the boy picks up the girl and spins her around.

Adorable right? And oh so very Kotaro. But only one problem.

You didn't want him to notice how heavy you were.

Recently you had put on some weight and now none of your jeans fit. So, you had resorted to wearing sweatpants and baggy sweatshirts everyday out of necessity and to hide the weight. You had been feeling so insecure about it and you didn't want your fit, toned, athletic, sexy boyfriend to notice.

Thinking about all your weight and the shame behind it, you snapped.

"Just quit it!"

Kotaro stopped chasing you and adopted one of his rare serious looks. "Baby, what's wrong?"

He waited for you to answer but you couldn't say anything.

"This isn't about me picking you up, is it?"

"Yes it is!" You shot back. You folded your arms and looked away. "I just don't want to be picked up."

Kotaro took a couple steps forward and reached out to cup your cheek. He held it softly, but firmly turned it so that you were looking at him. "Baby, just tell me what's really wrong."

"Fine," you snapped. "I gained weight and I didn't want you to notice. Happy?"

"Why didn't you want me to notice?" Kotaro asked genuinely.

You blinked at him dumbfoundedly. How could he not know?

"Because..." you started slowly. "I was afraid you'd leave me..."

Kotaro smiled ruefully. "Baby, do you really think I am that vain?"

"No of course not," you answered quickly. "I just... you're so athletic and goodlooking and perfect and-"

"And you're gorgeous and sexy and stunning and beautiful and-"

"Baby stop," you flushed and covered his mouth. He continued to mumble more compliments until he seemed to run out of words. Then he gently took your hands off of his mouth.

"Skinny does not equal pretty, baby. I love you and everything about you and nothing will change that okay." Kotaro adopted a sly look on his face. "Besides it sounds like you're doubting my absolute, super-human strength."

“Oh shove off,” you rolled your eyes. 

“You don’t know how much I can bench,” he winked. 

“Do you even lift,” you paused. “Bro?”

Kotaro gasped dramatically. “My own dearest lover, doubting me?” He sobered up for a second. “If it bothers you, I won’t do it. But just know that I love you, despite whatever you may weigh.”

You nodded with a smile. “C’mon, let’s go back to my place.” Kotaro’s eyebrows shot up and his cheeks reddened. You slapped him on the arm. “Not like that, we had a study date remember?” His mouth formed an o and he nodded. 

“Let’s go.” You took his hand and couldn’t help but feel just a little bit better.

Iwaizumi H.

You felt your heart sink as soon as you stepped on the scale. You already had been feeling it, but this just confirmed it. You had gained weight.

You felt tears start to prickle at your eyes. Sure your live-in boyfriend told you you were pretty, but did he really mean it? Would he think that forever?

It had all started when your clothes felt just a little tighter. It was likely due to the fact that your school was all online now (thank you covid) so you got out less and weren't as active. Even though you knew there was a reasonable explanation, it didn't help the sorrow at the pit of your stomach. You felt nauseous.

And then the tears began to fall. You felt so helpless, so much useless hate directed nowhere but yourself. You couldn't help it. You silently cried as you stared at the number.

Too high, too high.

You watched it until the digital scale when black, but you didn't hop off. You couldn't move. All you could do was stand there and just cry. You were so absorbed in your anguish that you didn't hear you boyfriend's footsteps.

He pushed open the half closed door and peeked in. "Babe, where are th- oh shit babe!" He rushed to your side quickly and looked you up and down. "Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

You tried to answer him, but the lump in your throat was too thick. All you could do was look back down at the scale and cry more.

Hajime quizzically followed your eyes down to the scale and slowly the pieces clicked together in his mind. Without asking, he grabbed your hand and pulled you off the scale and into his arms.

At that motion, you completely lost it. Large hiccuping sobs racked your body as Hajime held you close. You fisted your hands into his shirt and buried your face into his chest and just cried. He rubbed comforting circles into your back and squeezed you tight. He didn't say a word, just held you as you cried.

You weren't sure for how long you cried, but you knew it was a while. You didn't stop crying until your body felt drained and your head hurt slightly from the dehydration.

Once you stopped sniffling, you pushed against Hajime's chest.

"I... I'm okay now..." You whispered softly, voice nasal from your stuffy nose.

"I'm not," Hajime whispered back.

You squirmed until you could see his face. Surprisingly, he was crying too.

"What, babe why are you crying?" You reached up and wiped the tears off of his face. "Everything's all right now."

Hajime shook his head. "You're not supposed to be comforting me, I'm supposed to be comforting you," he chuckled softly. "Besides everything is not alright. Why did that number upset you so much?"

At this, you broke eye-contact. "I... I was worried..." You paused, but Hajime waited for you to finish. "I was just so upset because you're so perfect you deserve bett-"

"Don't you finish that sentence," Hajime warned in a low voice. You closed you mouth slowly. "Look at me." You bit your lip. "Babe, look at me," Hajime ordered once more.

At that you raised your watery eyes to meet his stern ones. They were hard, but they held so much love and adoration in the you almost wanted to cry. Again.

"I love you. I want to spend every moment I have left with you and a few pounds will never change that."

"It's not just a few pounds, it's a lot-"

"Don't. I don't care. You are beautiful and nothing will ever change that. Don't you ever think you don't deserve me because that's bullshit and I don't want to hear it. I don't want anyone else and nothing, you hear me, nothing will change that."

A few years escaped from your eyes. "Are you sure?" You asked in a fragile voice.

"Deadly," he confirmed with an unwavering gaze. "Now, let's go cuddle outside the bathroom please?"

You giggled and nodded, letting him drag you away.

Tsukishima K.

“Do I smell like shit?”

The question was blunt and straight to the point, just like your boyfriend was. 

You blinked, pausing to collect your thoughts. You were at the table in the library, studying together. But Kei was doing anything but studying. It looked like he had been staring at you for a while before popping his question. His text book was off to the side, closed, and he was leaning his head on the palm of his hand as his eyes bore into you. 

“Wh-uh, what the fuck?” You finally stammered. Kei just kept looking at you. 

You sighed and marked the page you were on and closed the book. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat and looked back up at him. “I’m going to need more information than that, love.”

“Its a simple question.”

“Yes, but why are you asking?”

“Answer mine first.”

You sighed. “No, of course you don’t smell like shit. What’s gotten into you?”

He hummed but his blank expression did not change. “Interesting.”

“You need to start explaining now bec-”

“You told me a couple months back that you borrowed my sweatshirts because you liked the way that I smelled. However, recently, you haven’t been asking for them. Hence the question, do I smell like shit.” Kei folded his hands in front of him and leaned forward. “But you just said I don’t. So now I am confused, because that was the only reason I could come up with.”

You felt your heartbeat in your head, pulsing to the rhythm of your anxiety. It was obvious that Kei knew something was up. Curse you for picking a fucking genius for a boyfriend. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and thought of what to say. It was going to be hard to lie to him, but you didn’t want to tell him the truth. The scary truth that you were afraid they wouldn’t fit. 

Part of the allure and aesthetic of wearing your boyfriend’s sweatshirts were that they were big on the girl. However, you had recently put on some weight so you were very sure that they would be anything but big on you. The image of your belly stretching the fabric was poison in your mind. 

“Y/n?” Kei called, startling you from your thoughts. 

“Uh, yeah, um, I have my own sweaters?”

“That never stopped you before,” he replied dryly. 

“Well, I just don’t feel like bothering you to-”

Kei sighed loudly, cutting you off. He leaned into his hand and pinched his temple, squeezing his eyes tight. “Why are you lying to me? What is the real reason?”

You closed your mouth and looked down at your hands. You felt the lump in your throat rising and you fought to keep it down. 

“I just...” You sighed. There was no point in lying to him. He would find out eventually. “I’m afraid they won’t fit.”

“What?” Kei responded, seemingly surprised. 

“I am not repeating myself,” you frowned and looked up at him. 

“No, no, it’s just that’s so stupid.”

“Thanks for validating my feelings,” you rolled your eyes. Typical Kei. 

“How am I supposed to validate that when its absurd? Y/n I am 190 centimetres, I wear a double XL, how would that not fit you?”

“I gained weight oka-”

“Fine. If you’re going to be like this, be like this.” He started packing up his stuff. 

“W-wait Kei-” Images of the worst case scenario flashed through your mind.

“We’re going to my to try on my sweatshirt. If it doesn’t fit, I’ll get a bigger one so you can wear it.” 

You were dumbstruck. This was possibly the nicest thing Kei had ever done for you. Whether it was the built up emotions or the actual act, you felt tears welling at your eyes. 

“Pack up, or are you just gonna stare at me?” Kei snapped. 

You smiled and nodded, then turned to start packing up. You knew his anger wasn’t directed at you, it was just his frustration peeking out. He always had a terrible time managing his emotions. You were thankful for him, though. No matter how rough he was around the edges, he really did love you. 

Once you were done packing, you stood up and slipped your hand into his. “I love you.”

“Yeah, even though you’re frustrating as fuck I kinda like you too.”

You smiled and couldn’t help but feel just a little better. 

Taglist: {OPEN}

[seeuonadarknite]

freak — yandere oikawa tooru x f. reader

warnings: noncon, bullying, degradation, creampie, hickeys, exhibitionism

Milk bread? Check. Coffee? Got it. Gum?

"Shit!" The sound of your school loafers pattering against the sidewalk resonated throughout the desolate road as you hastily detoured back to the gas station. You were probably the store's first customer of the day, and here you were ever so graciously returning because you forgot something as minimal as chewing gum.

Any sane person would forget the gum and continue their journey towards the school. But you were far from that. You had to have a few screws loose if you willingly took time out of your day to cater to your high school bully and buy him a few of his favorite snacks. Hell, his friends have even dubbed you as his little admirer due to your obedient nature.

But you weren't catering to his needs like some sort of servant because you wanted to impress him. The only thing that kept you from smacking him across the face and calling him a stuck up jerk was pure fear. You're not some masochist that enjoys being taken advantage of by someone with a power imbalance over you all because of his stupid social status, but your options are limited.

It's either play along with his brutal torment for the rest of the last semester, or try and defend yourself and place a giant target on your back for his vicious fan girls. And even if you tried fighting him back, you wouldn't even need to be outnumbered by his friends to lose. We're talking about the Grand King here. He'd take you down by himself in a matter of seconds.

As hard as it was being seen as a freak that embraced Oikawa's torment, you'd much rather lose your dignity rather than your own safety. If Oikawa told those girls that you tried laying a pretty little finger on him, he'd be throwing you into a pit of rabid wolves to shred you apart and eat you alive.

Plus, you weren't as bad as everyone made you out to be. If there was anything Oikawa was better at other than playing volleyball, it was lying. He could spread a rumor about you robbing a damn bank and not a single person would bat an eye at his impossible claim. The fact that he has the entire school body in the palm of his hand is more than unsettling. Saying you weren't interested in testing his immeasurable power was an understatement.

Sprinting over to the spot behind the school that Oikawa was oh so keen on meeting you at, your heavy pants soon turned into wheezes. God, you were only three minutes late but you were shaking like a leaf. If anything positive came out of this situation, it was that you learned that it'd be a good idea to bring a grocery list next time, and maybe some water.

"You're late, [y/n]. Care to explain?" It wasn't hard to miss the irritation that laced the normally cheerful male's tone. Lo and behold, Oikawa was already stood at your regular spot, looking as cocky and smug as ever. There was nothing that excited him more than watching your face visibly drop at the sight of his presence. What, did you really think you'd get by with being even a second late? Time was precious, and you weren't going to get away with wasting his.

Oikawa basked in the way you powerlessly trembled as he made his way towards you. You didn't even bother trying to cower away, it was priceless! Placing a hand on your chin, he forcefully tilted your head upwards and rubbed a thumb over your lower lip. "I-I'm sorry! I.. I forgot the gum.." He shot you a glare. "B-But I went back and got it! That's why I'm a little late.." You could barely even muster up a coherent response, you were so nervous.

Judging by the way he ripped the grocery bag out of your hand and began rummaging through the contents of the bag, he was not buying your excuse. Picking up the can of cold coffee you had specifically picked out for him, his eyes narrowed in disgust. "You got me the kind with creamer. Are you trying ruin my perfect body image?"

Diverting his gaze from the coffee to you, he sent you an expectant look. If you didn't come up with a reasonable excuse within the course of a few seconds, Oikawa would make you regret waking up this morning. "This was the last one left! I'm sorry—" Lies. You cut yourself off as you felt a cold, sticky substance run down your chest and seep through your school uniform.

He was pouring the coffee you had paid for all over your chest, wearing a sickeningly sweet smile while doing so. You couldn't tell what was more discomforting, the feeling of ice cold coffee sticking to your skin, dripping all the way down to your bellybutton, or the unsettlingly lustful gaze Oikawa held on your figure. He had to be joking. Sure, he was a jerk that got off on making your life a living hell, but he never took it to such perverse extents.

"Aww, you look so cute with your tits covered in coffee. You must be freezing! I'll warm you up." Somehow the idea of him warming you up sent chills running up your spine. There was no way in hell he was about to do something thoughtful like giving you his jacket or helping you clean up the mess he deliberately made.

Forcefully grabbing you by the shoulders, Oikawa shoved you onto the cement with ease, watching your face contort into a cringe. You could already feel the rough texture of the ground scraping at your skin through the thin fabric of your uniform. Was he about to beat the shit out of you? Why was he looking down at you like a starved carnivore?

Instead of answering the questions rapidly flowing through your head, Oikawa straddled your waist with both lanky legs. However, instead of trying to fight him back, you stare at him with a dejected look in hopes of him hurrying up whatever the hell he planned on doing.

"Now, I'm sure you're not big on getting attacked by my loyal fans. So do me a massive favor and be quiet, alright?" You wanted to wipe the stupid smirk right off of his face as he basically threatened you. This man was about to use you for his own personal pleasure and there was nothing you could do about it.

Glancing down at your glossy eyes one last time, Oikawa basks in the fearful expression that adorns your face. Making quick work of your coffee stained uniform, he popped open the buttons, giving himself a clear frontal view of your sticky cleavage.

A small smirk tugged at his lips as he glanced down at the lacy bra that adorned your body. "Not only have you decided to wear such a lewd piece of clothing, but you wore the kind that snaps open in the front? Ahh, you must want me to fuck you."

Oikawa wasted no time in snapping open your bra, allowing your breasts to spring free. Both of your tits were on perfect display for the setter's hungry eyes to gaze at. You felt powerless and small under his primal stare. It couldn't possibly get any more worse than this.

Maybe the rumors were right, maybe you were a tad bit unhinged. Any sane person would've seen this coming from a fucking psychopath like Oikawa. "P-Please.. don't do this.." You gave pleading one last shot as you stared pathetically into his chocolate brown eyes that gleamed with amusement.

Unfortunately for you, your doe eyes only seemed to egg the cocky brunette on as he roughly clasped your breasts with each hand. Although the uncomfortable, yucky feeling of coffee sticking to your skin still lingered, the only thing you could zero in on was your tormentor's working hands as he squeezed your hardened nipples in between his slender fingers.

He was squeezing and fondling your sensitive mounds like stress balls. Did he forget that you were a human just like him? Has he really amounted you to a mere plaything for him to toy with whenever he pleased? With the way that his hands kneaded and pulled at your breasts like dough, you were beginning to think that your theories were correct.

His half lidded eyes flicker up to yours for a split second, allowing him to witness the deliciously mortified expression you wore. Within a fluid movement, Oikawa leans down and traps your lips in a ferocious kiss. It started off with just Oikawa forcefully merging his lips onto yours, but with the squeeze of your breast you regretfully gasped, allowing passageway for his wet appendage.

It's hard to decipher what's more uncomfortable; the feeling of Oikawa's tongue swishing around yours, rendering it nearly impossible to breathe or the obvious hard on he has rubbing up against your skin. When he finally pulls away, his breaths are heavy and uneven.

Hooking his fingers under the waistbands of your skirt and panties, Oikawa tugs the elastics down, watching as your slick strings down along with your panties. Crimson shaded your cheeks as you averted your gaze from Oikawa's. If there was any possible way of coping with the mortifying situation at hand, it'd be closing your eyes and pretending to be anywhere but where you were.

Unfortunately for you, sight wasn't your only sense. Shutting your eyes wouldn't stop you from hearing the sound of Oikawa's belt buckle clinking, and it wouldn't prevent you from feeling his hardened cock running across your thigh. Opening your eyes, you couldn't help the audible gasp that escaped your lips as you gazed at his cock. It was as big in girth and in length as all of his fan girls had claimed. You really hoped that they had been bluffing.

Oikawa seemed to appreciate your unwavering eyes, as he prodded the tip of his cock at your hole. "Wait! Please, don't.. At least use a rubber." You pleaded, trying your hardest not to let any lewd noises to escape your mouth as he began easing his head into the walls of your cunt. However, all your pleading did was evoke an amused chuckle from the man top of you.

"Aww, that's all you're worried about? Don't worry, I'll pull out," He coos, grabbing the curves of your hips to steady himself as he pushes himself further inside of your pulsating hole. As uncomfortable as the foreign feeling of Oikawa's massive cock pushing your walls apart was, you felt a small wave of relief wash over you upon hearing his response.

He seemed to notice the look of relief taking over your features, because he sent you an ear to ear grin that put the cheshire cat to shame. With a forceful thrust that would surely leave you sore, Oikawa finally pushes the rest of his length into the constricting walls of your cunt. "..after I cum inside of you!" He grabs onto your legs and folds them into your chest within a fluid movement, making it easier for his cock to reach spots your measly fingers would never be able to find.

He either didn't notice or decided to ignore the the way your body physically tensed at his response. He was joking. Right? Sure, he obviously knew no boundaries and had no problem using and abusing your body, but you assumed he had the smallest bit of self control. Maybe you were thinking too highly of him.

Rearing his hips back a fraction, Oikawa thrusts back into you, already kissing the tip of your cervix with the head of his cock. His pace starts off slow and steady, allowing your insides to memorize each and every curve and vein on his cock. If you weren't so upset with him for doing this against your will, you would've been appreciative of his benign thrusts.

Glancing up at the clock that hung from the back of the school, Oikawa cringed. He had to make this quick. His comfortable, languid pace quickens as soon as you can relax. The once quiet spot behind the school is soon filled with sounds of grunts, moans, and ear deafening slaps. Any regard for your personal comfort is gone out the window, as he thrusts in and out of you at a rapid, unrhythmic pace.

He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, running his lips over the sensitive skin whilst his hips smack against yours at what feels like one hundred miles per hour. "Maybe I'll mark you. Nobody else will be allowed to fuck you like this, only me.." If your mind wasn't zeroed in on the feeling of his balls slapping your rear at full speed, you would of picked up on the hint of possessiveness in his tone.

Eyes trained on the skin of your neck, Oikawa began sucking and nibbling, leaving a trail of purple bruises starting from your neck and ending at your chest. It was a mystery how he managed to create love bites and brutally fuck your hole at the same time.

Just the twitch of his cock causes your insides to squeeze at his length like a snake constricting around its victim. "Fuck, you're really tight, huh?" He grunted in your ear, basking in the way your insides devoured his throbbing cock with each and every thrust.

As Oikawa somehow managed to fasten his pace, he moved his hand down south, placing the pads of his fingers onto your swollen nub. If you weren't close before, you definitely were now. With the pressure of his fingers working absolute wonders on your clit, and his throbbing cock desperately pushing at your cervix, your body begged you for release. A small knot formed in your abdomen as his movements quickened, and your plushy walls began clamping down on Oikawa's cock.

With one last harsh hit to your cervix, you come undone, gushing your juices all over his twitching cock. As soon as you reach your well awaited climax, your vision begins to spot and your brain starts to fog. You were far too dazed to focus in on Oikawa hooking his arms over your thighs and slamming himself into your aching hole at a ferocious pace. "Aw, what a little baby! You came so fast." He taunted in your ear, half lidded eyes trained on your figure as he pummeled into you with hostile thrusts.

Although he teased you for releasing so fast, he felt his own climax arise with the way your innards hugged his cock. All it took was one last final thrust into the milking clutch of your cunt before he reached his end, hitting your swollen cervix one last time to shoot his load into your womb with a drawn out groan. God, he didn't regret ditching his condom for a second. Seeing his hot, thick fluids seep from your quivering hole boosted his already inflated ego. Only he was capable of leaving you like this.

Sliding his cock out of your dripping cunt, Oikawa watched as you sat up from your spot on the cement and began buttoning up your shirt. Cute, now coffee wasn't the only sticky substance splattered all over your skin.

After pulling his pants back up and fixing his disheveled hair, he helped you up from the ground. It would've been a kind gesture, if he hadn't followed it by forcefully tugging your panties back up with a condescending grin. "Don't go to the bathroom or wash up. If you do, I'll fuck you again and cum inside of you twice. Don't forget, I have eyes everywhere." His voice was disturbingly cheerful for the unsettling words that came from his mouth.

Sending you one last signature grin, he flashed a peace sign at you like you were one of his fan girls asking for a picture. It baffled you how two faced he could be at times. "See you later, slut!" He giggled before leaving you alone at the scene, drenched in all kinds of different liquids.

Whoever told you that high school was going to be easy was lying through their teeth.

[watevermelon]

Cheater!Akaashi x Reader

✧ Summary: (Continuation) Akaashi is still in love with you and begs for your forgiveness.

➳ A/N: It surprised me how many people wanted a part 2 to Akaashi’s initial cheating imagine, but here we are!!  Ask and you shall receive. People want good things for the reader and I agree -- that’s too bad this is what we got instead LMAO ➳  Masterlist ➳  Part One 

--------xXxXxXxXxXx--------

You could’ve gone the rest of your high school career without ever having to hear the word volleyball ever again. The only interest you had in it was from your ex-boyfriend and now any reminder just left a bitter pang in the pit of your stomach. 

Thankfully, Akaashi was not in your class and there actually were not any volleyball players in your homeroom. But that didn’t stop them from popping up in your peripherals or in some rumours around school. 

Some of the members of the volleyball team would shoot looks at you, whether out of pity or curiosity, you couldn't care less. You fostered your own relationships with the athletes individually - whether it was Haruki’s strange brand of humor, Sarukui’s constant references to memes, or Wataru’s lopsided smiles - you knew them. 

You shared, or rather suffered together, in a class with Konoha the year before. A bright first year with no friends yet, Konoha was a nice person and the first one of the entire volleyball team to actually speak to you. He was even the one to introduce you to both Akaashi and Bokuto.

Out of the bunch, Konoha was often a tag-along when it came to hangouts. Whether it was to the arcade or the movie theatres, you and your (ex)boyfriend were quick to include the others. And usually Bokuto and Konoha would come along as well. Looking back, now you felt like an idiot, Konoha was one thing, but Bokuto was always there.

Nonetheless, as a member of the volleyball team, you knew Konoha was close to Akaashi. And there was no doubt which side he would be taking, no matter the moral high-ground. 

There was too much history there and there would be no attempt on your part to salvage the friendships you had with the volleyball team. 

There was no doubt of the curiosity in everyone’s minds the moment you and Akaashi were broken-up and there was a new person he was holding hands with. It went from general confusion to malicious rumours. Akaashi was the silent boy next door, the person everyone thought to be the perfect boyfriend without a bad bone in his body.

Some said that he broke up with you because you were too mean, too boring, or he simply lost interest in your boring lifestyle.

If only other people knew what he had done to you and Bokuto.

You didn’t believe this was the hill you wanted to die on. And so you ignored the carefully whispers that followed you in the hallways. Your best friends urged you to clear your name - you were the wronged party so why must you be the one to continue suffering? But this was not something you wanted to bring up again, not something you wanted to think about and relive after how painful it was the first time.

But it seemed the volleyball Gods really hated you.

Konoha approached you one day, after class had just ended but before extracurricular clubs were about to start.

“Hi.” He stood beside your locker as you organized your things, “Can we talk?”

You nodded wordlessly, packing up your bookbag and following him out the door. He guided you toward the outside fountain by the athletic building, not many students passing by as they rushed home through the main entrance. A part of you worried that some of the other volleyball members would pass by as you sat there together, but then you realized that it was no longer your problem.

You were seated on the edge, silently watching his pensive expression before he finally turned to you.

“I feel like I owe you an apology.” He started.

“What, why?”

“I could’ve told you a year ago that something strange was happening between Akaashi and Bokuto.”

You felt a lump in your throat, not sure what to say.

He shook his head and turned away, “There was something there even before you two were dating. And so even when Akaashi asked you out, I bet you were surprised?’

You frowned, but agreed quietly with a nod of your head.

“We barely knew each other at the time.”

Konoha scoffed, you were unsure why exactly, but he continued, “Out of curiosity, why did you agree?”

You smiled back wistfully at the memory, remembering how you had excitedly texted your friends on how the Akaashi Keiji had asked you to be his girlfriend.

“It was so simple back then.” You explained, “He was the kind, pretty setter of the nationally-ranked volleyball team. It was shallow, based off of what little I heard about.”

“But you grew to love him.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed, “And look what that brought me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Haruki passed by, texting away on his phone, mind on something else before he spotted the two of you. He waved at Konoha first before his eyes landed on you, widening in obvious surprise before he shot you a genuinely wide smile.

“A lot of them miss you too.” Konoha explained.

“Well sorry, I tend to avoid anything regarding the volleyball team these days.”

“Don’t worry, as much as this sucks, we understand.”  Konoha frowned, clenching one of his hands into a fist in annoyance at the situation.

“But I do miss you guys too.” You added.

Konoha smiled, fondly remembering the last time you had all gone to the arcade, “Who could forget the time you beat Haruki at Dance Dance Revolution?” 

“He certainly did not.” You recalled, “He kept challenging me all the way up to mid-terms.” 

Konoha laughed, no one on the team was able to defeat the libero. And yet here you were, all smiles and confidence radiating off of you, bringing the third year to his knees. It made Konoha wonder if the last year could have been different. 

When Akaashi had approached you, Konoha had dutifully stood to the side. The setter was one of his closest friends and never had he approached anyone in the past. He was often busy with the team or Bokuto. And for Akaashi to have asked you, it meant he was serious. And so Konoha had stood to the side, his crush on you mollified if that meant you’d be happier with the setter your age.

If Konoha had the courage to ask you out instead, would you still be close to the volleyball team? Would you be celebrating an anniversary together rather than crying over some lecherous bastard he called a friend?

You sighed and turned to Konoha, registering his earlier words. “Why are you sorry?”

“What?”

“Why are you sorry about what happened with Akaashi?”

“Ah.” He raked an open palm through his hair. “Maybe I could have stopped you.”

“What?” You asked, a confused smile on your face.

“I introduced the two of you after all.” He explained.

“Shut up.” You said in a teasing tone, “No one could have stopped it. I was just dumb enough to fall for him.”

Konoha shot a small grin back at you, “Yeah, you were.”

Sighing loudly, you made sure you had all your stuff before standing. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.” Konoha held out a hand for you to shake, “I hope we can still be friends.”

It was odd, to feel the small blossom of something in the pit of your stomach. This was Konoha, your friend of two years at this point. This was nothing more than him trying his best to affirm your friendship, you reminded yourself.

“I hope so too.”

And, to his credit, he really did try. It was simple things - you had each other’s chat ID’s from your shared class together and, every once in a while, he would send you a meme or a small tidbit of information. You still had things in common, subjects ranging from the current shounen anime and TV shows you kept up with.

It was refreshing to talk to him. Your friends had your back, but the school’s curiosity was not easily satisfied with time. People were naturally nosy, eager to know the true reasons behind your failed relationship. Both you and Akaashi had yet to even address it and it only got worse with Bokuto’s increasing PDA.

Thankfully, no one was audacious enough to actually approach you about the situation. No one else was involved in your relationship and they had no right to actually point fingers.

That was until someone had the audacity to come up to you during the free period, most of everyone on campus enjoying their lunches.

You were sitting at your usual table, waiting for your friends to come from their respective classrooms when one of the more annoying third-years came up to you.

You recognized her as president of the Fukurodani Volleyball fanclub, this should be fun.

“I think you should apologize to Akaashi-san.”

You closed your book and looked up. The usual bustle of the lunchroom was dying down, many people silencing as they turned to the interaction. 

“What?”

“For wasting his time - he deserved so much better than you.” She bit out cruelly, the other girls behind her nodding in agreement. “And we all think it’s high time you beg for forgiveness.”

You stood up, pure annoyance rolling off of you. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh? I don’t?” She challenged, “Why would Akaashi date you of all people? And now that the two of you are broken-up he’s been sadder than I’ve ever seen him! This is your fault!”

You slapped your book down and raised your chin, “If that’s what you honestly think then you’re as ignorant as you are a meddling piece of shit.” 

The murmurs that followed were obvious, people listening in to your harsh response.

She raised her hand as if to slap you, obviously offended at being called out to the entire lunchroom. “Why I outta --”

But the offending hand never came.

“Leave her alone.”

You could recognize your ex-boyfriend’s voice anywhere. Turning, you saw Bokuto enter your field of vision and grasp at her wrist in a tight hold, held high above your head. Akaashi was standing on the other side in front of you, an arm-outstretched as if to protect you from the group of girls.

“She didn’t do anything wrong.” Akaashi stated clearly, his gaze was unwavering from the girl, but you were sure that the entire room was now listening in. “It was me.”

She stuttered, attempting to save face, “Akaashi-san, surely that’s not true.”

He turned to her, his blank expression now marginally colder. “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

The mean third-year visibility recoiled, turning to you and apologizing under her breath. Bokuto swung her arm away, his glare enough to scare away the rest of the group, but the room was still obviously silent. Bokuto scanned the rest of the room with his tough stare, many people turning away and vainly attempting to restart their conversations. 

Akaashi turned to you, an unsure expression on his face. There were words on the tip of his tongue, you were sure, since he looked as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say.

“I’m not going to say thanks.” You decided to start for him.

“I know.”

You wanted to turn away from him again, no words left for you to say or even scream at him through your anger. This was more than just some ex, you genuinely loved Akaashi and thought he was going to be your future. And from the way he acted, it seemed like the setter wanted that as well.

“There’s something I want to say.” Akaashi stated before you could flee.

“Maybe not here.” Bokuto tugged at your elbow, motioning to the nearest hallway with his chin. 

You followed Akaashi wordlessly, Bokuto behind you to make sure you didn’t just run away. You sure that there were more than a few dozen pairs of eyes sticking to the backs of your strange trio.

Akaashi led you to a corner, no one to spy on your conversation unless they hung outside the building from the window. He moved to gently grasp your forearms, but you pushed him off before he could get a firm hold on you. 

He frowned, but looked at you intently. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” You stated back plainly, “I can’t forgive you.”

Akaashi hesitated, a dejected look on his face. “I know.”

Every bone in your body was screaming at you to walk away, to stop looking at his despondent pout and not fall for his sad look. You remembered the first time you fell in love with his smile - how easy he would flash that beaming expression at you. How Akaashi would tell you how much he loved you and it filled your heart until it overflowed.

And now all of those memories were worth nothing.

Screw being a bigger man, your heart had a thousand things it wanted to say.

“I really loved you, you know.” You pushed at his shoulder, “And now I can’t look at you without feeling like I hate you.”

“I know.”

“I was so in love with you I thought this would be it.” You felt your heart crying, but urged the motion down. “Why kiss me and tell me you love me when you had someone else on your mind the entire time?!”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Akaashi looked just as anguished, trying to reach out to you with shy hands on your shoulders. “Please just listen to me.”

But you shoved him away this time, “What could you possibly have to say to me?”

“I love you.” 

His blue eyes bore right into your own, determined and sure of his previous statement. Looking over his shoulder, Bokuto was standing to the side, his gaze stuck on you as well. How the hell was this normal?

“What?”

Akaashi paused, hands coming up to hold you but stopping short again when he realized that was the last thing you needed. “I’m in love with both of you.”

You huffed and took a step back, what could you possibly say to that? There was a sudden flurry of emotions just whirring around your mind -  a rush of elation at being loved, immediately squashed down by the annoyed at Akaashi’s selfishness.

You turned to Bokuto, “You believe this?”

The wing-spiker frowned, but affirmed it in a loud voice. “Yes.”

“No.” You started back quickly, shaking your head. “I refuse to be part of this.”

“It’s true.” Akaashi pushed, moving toward you with an ernst expression on.

“I don’t care if it’s true or not.” You moved away again, but this time Akaashi did not let you evade him. Putting firm hands on your shoulders, he pulled you against his chest. “Stop.”

“I’m so sorry I hurt you, but I can’t.” Akaashi continued, “I love you and it hurts me so much that I hurt you in the process.”

You struggled against his hold until he let go. “How could I listen to you be so selfish?” 

“I know.”

“Don’t involve me in this.” You motioned at the both of them in a wide circle. 

“(F/N).” Akaashi stressed, eager to get you to see his side, but you wanted nothing to do with him or Bokuto. He broke your heart enough, there was no way you were willing to entertain him back in your life.

“What don’t you understand about leaving me alone?” You raised your voice, annoyed that Akaashi was asking anything of you after treating you so cruelly.

“Please let me explain.” Akaashi kept repeating.

There was nothing, absolutely nothing that Akaashi could say that would ever make you think about introducing him back into your life. He was terrible for lying to you for months, maybe even as long as a year, but you didn’t want to exactly ask the length of his infidelity. He was a terrible boyfriend and an even worse person - you were ready to raise hands at both boys if they didn’t let you go this instant.

Bokuto blocked your path this time, “(L/N), come on we just -- “

“What’s going on here?” A gentle hand fell on your shoulder, pushing Bokuto aside as a new person entered your conversation.

Konoha stood tall behind you, his sudden appearance quelling your rising anger. If not, you were sure that you were going to throw hands with the volleyball boys. Bokuto would probably fight you off, but slapping Akaashi would feel cathartic in a way.

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Bokuto tried to wave away the other wing spiker. “We’re just talking.”

“(F/N), please. Let me explain it all to you.” Akaashi stressed, moving a step in your direction, to which Konoha challenged when he tilted his head upward. 

“Right, just talking.” Konoha murmured in disbelief before turning to you. “And how do you feel?”

“I’ve had enough of this conversation.”

Both Akaashi and Bokuto exclaimed your name in contrasting tones, but you hardened your expression before turning away from them. Konoha still had a hand on your shoulder as you walked back to the lunchroom.

Your friends were already at your table, some of them standing around pacing while others were angrily chewing into their food. A chorus of your name followed as the two of you neared the table, some of them getting up from their seats to give you a comforting hug.

“(F/N)!” Your best friend was quick to rush you, crushing you between her arms. “We heard that Akaashi and Bokuto basically ushered you away.”

“The whole lunchroom was basically watching that door.” Another stated, pointing to the one you just came from.

Your best friend put her hands on your shoulder, steading your attention back to her. “Please tell me you remembered that men ain’t shit.”

Konoha laughed as he put a mocking hand of offense over his heart.

“Yeah, yeah.” You assured her, “I’m not about to make the same mistake again.”

“Good.” She confirmed, before turning to Konoha. “Okay, only Konoha has rights.”

“Thanks.” He stated back half-heartedly, guiding you back to your lunch and taking the seat beside you.

“When people told us they took you away, we weren’t sure what to do. Go after you? Call you to give you an out? We didn’t even know how long you had been gone for!” She explained, “Thankfully Konoha here came to the rescue.”

You turned to the wing-spiker, smiling as you did so. “He really did, thank you.”

He reflected a similar expression back at you, holding your gaze before springing away to take out his own lunch out of his bag.

“I take it back, the volleyball team has no rights with the exception of Konoha.” One of your friends joked.

As for you, you could not help but think back to the fond expression Konoha just shot you. It was so quick, and yet so genuine, you felt it pierce your heart so suddenly just to rip away from you when he turned away. But not in a bad way, per se.

If anything, this was a nice feeling, for a lack of a better term, to have again. You were not totally healed, still angry at both Akaashi and Bokuto for being complete fuckheads. But a part of you was still alive, happy to see Konoha as your friend and just maybe… maybe something else.

Akaashi and Bokuto returned back to the lunchroom silently, having left their stuff at their now fully occupied table. Bokuto didn’t bother to even turn in your direction, but Akaashi shot you a devastatingly sad frown as he passed. 

A part of you wanted to comfort it, to leap out at the man who loved you for the past year. But you were thankfully steadied back to reality when Konoha put a gentle hand on your own. Akaashi’s gaze fell to the contact, making him stop entirely in his tracks. It was only when Bokuto grabbed his hand did the setter continue walking, but the shock on his face was palpable.

No matter, Akaashi was the last thing you wanted on your mind right now.

You upturned your hand and squeezed Konoha’s smiling at the third-year before turning back to your lunch.

The situation was far from resolved, you still had another two years at this drama-infested school and Akaashi seemed keen on explaining something to you. You were far from completely healed and it seemed the student body would not let this drama go unnoticed.

But you were getting there.

Little by little, you were re-learning to smile and laugh more. Places on campus were no longer bitter memories, but quiet lessons for you to remember. You had your loving best-friends and suddenly, the kind Konoha, at your side.

You had no worries about the rest of the school year, you would get through this with a head held high.

--------xXxXxXxXxXx--------

A/N: TBH for myself i could see this going both ways; reader saying nah OR reader entering a poly relationship. idk - i’ll write it if someone wants to see that ending but otherwise here we are :):

➳  Masterlist

[utterlyinevitable]

Hi! I really like your fics! Especially 'The Conference'. I have a fic request: Ethan x MC revealed to only the gang - not the whole hospital. It's totally fine if you don't do it! Thanks for considering my request! 💞

Sorry for taking a million years to get to this. Also sorry that it’s trash ♥

Telling Friends

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Rating: T+ Summary: It’s sometime after the toxin incident and Becca tells her roommates about her budding relationship. Though one of them has some issues with it... Trope: Fluff, People Find Out About Them; Platonic Gang 

________________________________________

Becca walked carefully into her apartment, immediately greeted by the sweet aroma of chocolate chip muffins and the sight of two of her roommates on their hideous, thrifted yellow couch that makes this place a home.

“Oh, good. You’re all here,” She sighed with a contented smile as she kicked off her shoes.

“Think we should be more shocked you’re here,” Jackie retorted, barely looking up from her phone.

Normally Becca would roll her eyes or respond with something snarky, but not today. Today the roommates had something to talk about; all of which revolved around why she’s barely been home lately.  

“Where’ve you been?” Elijah added, the whites of his teeth sparkling in the midday sunshine peering through the window.

“And in yesterday’s clothes,” Jackie followed up. 

“That’s what I wanted to talk about.” 

Becca dropped her bag and coat by the door before bounding across the room to take her place on the sofa between her two friends. 

“There’s something you guys should know. And I need you to keep it secret.” She glared pointedly at Jackie. 

“Did you pull a heist without us?”  

Elijah added, “Yeah because if so, no, I will never forgive you.” 

“No. I would never. It’s just…” Becca trailed, moving to settle further into the cushions. She took a deep readying breath. Exhaled. And continued; “Really sensitive and important, and I don’t want to do anything to screw it up. But I also don’t want to keep sneaking around…” 

“Are you back with Raf?” Jackie questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Since he kind of imploded his life for you?” 

After the incident, Rafael Aviero broke things off with his childhood sweetheart because of the lingering feelings he still harbored for her. Now he wasn’t moving away, he didn’t have Sora, and he didn’t have... 

“Um… no,” Becca responded, looking down at the cushion. 

Before her guilt could set in fully, the room erupted in a high-pitched, delighted squeal. 

“Oh my god!” Sienna rounded the kitchen island quickly, her battered hands clasping around the wooden spoon, “Really!?” 

“What?” Jackie asked at the same time Elijah questioned, “What’re we missing?” 

The two girls locked eyes and Becca made the slightest of confirming motions. 

Becca took a deep inhale, eyes never leaving Sienna’s. The absolute delight in her best friend’s dark eyes were giving her all the courage she needed. “I’ve been spending a lot of time at Ethan’s. We’ve been dating for a while.” 

“Since when?” 

“The memorial, basically.” 

“Shit,” Jackie lamented. “I’m happy for you, Bec. But damn” - a coy smirk appeared on her lips - “No wonder that guy’s been friendlier than usual.” 

“Finally!” Elijah exclaimed in a rush of air, like it was a breath he’s been holding in for far too long. All three pairs of eyes were on him. “Sienna and I caught Dr. Ramsey leaving the morning after her hearing.” 

Jackie’s jaw dropped past the floor and into the basement. 

The rest of the gang brought her up to speed on how that ended up happening and how no one knew Ramsey slept over, and of course the unfortunate ending to that tale.  

“How’s that going to work?” 

“Strictly professional at the hospital.” Becca affirmed the sentiment with a flippant wave of her hands and the smallest of smiles. “Nothing’s going to change.” 

“Except for how soft he is around you.” 

“He’s not soft on me. If anything he’s harsher with me because of our relationship.” 

The roommates talked more about the logistics of her relationship and how often Ethan will be staying over. Jackie set some ground rules for that, to which Becca rolled her eyes and agreed they would never ever have sex anywhere other than her bedroom when in the apartment. 

When the conversation waned Becca asked; 

“I was thinking about inviting him to Thanksgiving. Unless that’d be weird?” 

Elijah chuckled, “It’ll definitely be weird.”

Sienna waved him off and grabbed her friend’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’d be happy to have him, Becca.” 

The two girls shared a moment. It wasn’t a question that Sienna was overjoyed at Becca’s happiness - this was everything they’ve been dreaming about happening since early intern year. Though there was something quite bittersweet - Becca got a second chance with Ethan, while Sienna will never know what could have been. In their tightened grip neither could forget Danny. 

Becca’s lips parted, about to whisper condolences and affirmations that things are going to get better. But Elijah spoke first;  

“Getting to know Dr. Ramsey will be a real treat. Think he’d be down to watch the MCU in succession?”

As she turned towards him a broad smile took over Becca’s features. “As long as there’s scotch I’m sure he’ll be fine.” 

“I can’t believe you’ve been sneaking around with him.” Jackie lamented once more.  

“What’s Dr. Ramsey even like outside the hospital? He doesn’t seem like fun.” 

“Ethan’s a lot -” 

Aurora emerged, cutting Becca off with a disbelieving, “You’re dating Dr. Ramsey?”  

Something in her new friend’s tone threw Becca off kilter. So much so she threw up walls as quick and high as could be, ready to defend defend defend. She was afraid of her friends not taking to the news and Aurora’s tone really confirmed Becca’s worst fears. 

“Uh, yeah,” was all she could respond. 

“Gross. I’m happy for you but... gross. Are we forgetting he dated my aunt for years?” 

“Oh shit. Yeah,” Elijah muttered from the sidelines.  

Quickly Becca added, “They were never serious.” 

She was going to say ‘in love’ but thought better of it. She loves him dearly and knows he feels the same way, but they haven’t said it yet. The first time she uses that word next to his name it should be to him and him alone.  

The retort was swift and icy, “Are you?” 

Aurora didn’t anticipate the answer, she knew her friend and thought this was just another one of her impulses. Becca had a tendency to bounce from interest to interest, heart to heart; and after everything that’s happened recently maybe she’s just finding comfort in the man who kept her alive. 

Both sets of deep coffee-colored eyes met, both Aurora and Becca’s features schooled so stoic and unwavering in their position. A simple “Yes” dancing off Becca’s tongue. The word accompanied by the splendid thought that Ethan Ramsey was hers. 

Aurora Emery didn’t miss the tug of a smile tugging at the corners of Becca’s mouth.  

“Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll support you, but this is weird as fuck.”

***

Later that evening Aurora was in her room, sitting on her bed with a textbook in her lap. A knock sounded from her ajar door, and not a few seconds later Becca’s head peeked through the crack.  

“Hey, can we talk?” 

Aurora shut the book. “I think we need to.” 

She shifted on the bed to make room at the foot among all her papers. 

Once settled, sitting cross-legged, Becca broke the small flits of tension. “I’m sorry this is weird for you.” 

“Thanks.” Aurora forced a small, reassuring smile. “I’m sorry about the outburst. I don’t know enough about your relationship to comment.” 

“I don’t know enough about their relationship,” Becca admitted shyly. She fiddled with her hands in her lap. “Ethan doesn’t really talk about it. Just that he appreciates and respects the fuck out of Dr. Emery.” 

“Aunt Harper didn’t talk about it either. All I know is what I’ve overheard and saw. They go way back - I remember them together before I got into med school.” 

They let that sink in for a moment. Becca chewed on her lip as she mindfully ran through the semi-apparent timeline. “So this is weird,” she stated. 

“Really weird,” Aurora agreed with a chortle.   

Some more time passed by on a pause. The two amicably working through this oddity in their lives. Both their thoughts taking them in many directions. Though Becca’s moving further and further into territory she knew Ethan never wanted to wander back through. 

“Was he around a lot?” she finally asked in the smallest of voices. 

If Aurora picked up on her friend’s insecurity she didn’t make it apparent.  

“Sometimes,” she began. “He’d spend some holidays and milestones with the family. I don’t think he ever enjoyed it. A bunch of doctors eating and drinking all the time, everyone knows how much he hates spending time with colleagues.” Aurora tried to brush the last remark off as a joke to lighten the mood. 

She could see the ghost of a smile hanging on Becca’s lips.  

“He went for her.” It wasn’t a question  

Aurora simply nodded. 

“He’s a good guy,” Becca sighed. She looked up at Aurora with the most lovestruck look the young Emery has ever encountered. Right then and there she knew that this certainly was not one of her friend’s whims. It was, and had, the power of a whole new universe. 

“What the two of you see in him I’ll never know,” Aurora scoffed in feigned mockery. 

Becca was just about to comment - to say just how much of a different man Ethan was to Dr. Ramsey - when Aurora added; 

“But you shouldn’t worry about me, you should probably talk to Bryce.” 

Becca’s eyes went wide and her jaw stiffened. 

If anyone was going to address the other blatantly obvious elephant in the friend group, Aurora realized, it had to be her. Might as well kill two birds with one stone whilst they buried the hatchet. 

“We all know you’ve been hooking up for a while.” 

If words could kill Aurora was certain she just decapitated Becca. The poor girl went stark and ghostly. It was as if she hadn’t even considered telling her booty call she’s seeing someone else. 

Aurora trailed, “I don’t know exactly what went down but...” 

Neither wanted her to break Bryce Lahela’s heart.   

___________________

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[alicemitch09writes]

lame

05.

there’s a scar you’re not telling

You almost thought you were running late. Well, you weren’t.

But you were late to miss the early train.

Fuck.

And the train was packed. Just fucking great.

With your backpack hung in front of you, you tried to balance within your personal space whilst avoiding bumping into others. Thing was, it was getting more and more cramped as it was rush hour.

Why the fuck did school have to be so damn far!?

Businessmen, students, workers slowly filled in and out the train, it was wall-to-wall of people, barely allowing you a breather. Still, it was fucking cramped.

Absentmindedly, you bunched your hair together, letting it drape over your left shoulder, fingers nimbly working on a braid through your (h/c) locks.

Just as you secured it with a tie, the train cart screeched, the sudden movement throwing you off balance, falling back. Thankfully, warm hands grabbed hold of your shoulders, steadying you.

Your eyes turned to the windows, wondering if there was an attack from villains, some people were muttering behind you, thinking the same thing. Overhead, the PA went off, apologizing for the turbulence then announcing the next stop coming up.

Everyone sighed in relief, realizing it was just a train momentum, people were now shuffling around at the announcement, some preparing to leave while many others struggled to remain in their current spots.

Looking over your shoulder, towards your captor, with a smile you offer your gratitude. “Whew, thanks- “then you met ash blond and carmine, smile faltering, lower eye twitching, but a gratitude was still in order. “Yeah, thanks.”

Bakugou Katsuki's response was a noncommittal hum, roughened hands slowly slipping off your shoulders. As the train came to a stop, there was a shuffling of people, you were just about to take a step back, allowing people to move, but remembered that he was behind you. Though you were steady on your feet, it was still rush hour and people tend to really rush into the train - not wanting to miss the train. One false move and you could find yourself squished against someone, or against the window, or be cornered by some pervert – all options made you shudder.

Damn it. This is why you take the early train!

“Here,” without waiting for you to argue, roughened hands gently brought you aside, your back against the wall, shoulder touching the railing, with him in front of you. Protectively.

The feel of his hands on you made you remember just how warm they were, how big they’ve become compared to before.

“Um,” you didn’t like the way his eyes bore into yours, especially when it felt like he was seeing through you. “thanks. Again.”

Okay, not counting the time you had to confirm it earlier, that was two times already. Two words of gratitude in one morning.

He just blinked, towering over you whilst the train filled. Just the mere fact that he was in front of you made you consider a lot of things. Now that you had a good look at him, you could see that in his UA uniform, he was dressed rather ruggedly with the top buttons undone, even his blazer’s not completely buttoned, and his pants were loose – Auntie Mitsuki must’ve given him hell for his appearance. It was a total contrast to Izuku, who dressed like a good schoolboy – granted, he’s always been one. He just didn't know how to work a tie.

Regardless, he looked every bit of a high schooler now. Physically speaking, he’s always been muscular in build and tall – because of his good genes. But in a matter of time, because of his UA education, he’ll probably build up more.

But wow, it’s only been a few months since high school started, he’s definitely gotten bigger. Izuku, as well, but Bakugou’s muscles were more prominent-

Shit, were you ogling him?

Geez, it’s too early for these thoughts. Leaning against the railing, eyes squeezing shut, tucking your chin in, you groaned angrily to yourself.

Thankfully, you had your bag in front of you, creating a respectable space between you both.

Also, you could just end up not talking right? That was a thing.

You barely know the guy anymore, after years of bullying under his command, years of distance – he was nothing but a stranger to you now.

It hurt, actually.

There was a time when you were so close, never apart.

Everything just had to change because he had a quirk, birthing this damn ego that propelled him further and further away from you. Izuku, too.

And though you had your own (longer than Izuku), you felt so behind.

Him and Izuku in their UA uniforms, you in your generic public-school uniform.

The two of them were going places you could never see yourself following.

“Hey,” he called, voice surprisingly soft, cutting you off your thoughts. “that mark on your neck,” due to the environment noises surrounding, he had to lean in so you could hear him properly. “how did that happen?”

Fuck. He was too damn close!

But at the mention of the mark, hands instinctively reached for it, just by the junction of your neck and shoulder, abnormally shaped like a heart. A tiny splotch, that was over years old.

“You wouldn’t remember.” It was barely a whisper, but it reached his ears, carmine eyes faltering.

“Try me.”

Lifting your head, (e/c) eyes meeting carmine, fixing him an almost pained look. He balled his hand into fists at that, gazes holding, unwavering - a thousand words could be spoken.

The train came to a steady halt, finally reaching your stop.

Not breaking eye contact, you told him, in one breath. “It was when you discovered your quirk in kindergarten.” Then the doors opened beside you.

Hurriedly, you exited, never looking back.

Absentmindedly, your hand reached for the mark. To others, it might look cute due to its shape, but to you, it was a reminder. One of the many, anyway.

(It burned when you touched it.)

Middle school was a rough time, especially when you were the quirkless girl, an easy target, or a punching bag. Little did they know of your martial arts prowess and of your quirk, that even though you were restless in the morning, you learned to conserve just enough energy to fight, it just made you extra tired the next day though.

One day, you were cornered by a bunch of girls, all of which were fangirls of Bakugou, they saw you as a threat because of your relationship as childhood friends, forgetting that it was rather strained.

It was a four against one, which you easily won - because they chose to approach you near dusk, that was when your quirk picked up, but not without casualties.

“E-Eh, (Nickname)!? What happened to you?” Izuku frantically hovered over you when you met on the way to school.

Chuckling easily, you scratched at your bandaged cheek. “Ah, you know…assholes with quirks.”

His expression only worsened; eyes filling with tears. “(N-Nickname)…”

“IZUKU, PLEASE DON’T CRY!” you cried out, tossing your shoes into your shoe locker, lazily slipping on your indoor shoes. “Don’t worry, Izuku, I got them all.” You assure, adjusting your bag on your shoulders. “Besides, you’re forgetting that I’m a badass who knows martial arts!”

That quells him a little, worry still in his eyes. “T-That’s true. I’m just not sure how to feel that you have to resort to actually using them to defend yourself. I mean, I know you’re good at martial arts, because it’s in the family, and you’ve always been kind of strong and quick on your feet-“

“Izuku,” cutting him off, you worked on a cheeky grin. “I’m fine.”

Unconvinced, he fixes you a look, brows knitting together. “Just promise me you won’t get into fights again,”

Ah, he’s so cute when he’s being serious.

Scoffing, you swiped at your nose with your thumb. “No promises, so long as loose assholes with quirks continue to run amok and mess with me, I’ll show them exactly how I’ll mess them back and worse!”

That only made him uneasy, somehow a bit assured. “(N-Nickame)…”

When you both entered the room, your eyes easily caught on the girls from yesterday, each sporting some cuts and bruises from yesterday. The corner of your mouth lifted into a smirk, whistling breezily towards your seat.

“F-For now, (Nickname), are you feeling better? Do you want some aspirin? Do you need to head to the clinic?”

You shook your head, smiling at Izuku’s concern, he can really mother too much. “Like I said,” you said in a sing-song “I’ll be fine~ This’ll all heal soon enough, you’ll see.”

As soon as you said that, a pair of carmine eyes looked your way, focusing on each and every bandage and bruise on your skin.

Feeling someone looking your way, you turned your head. “Can I help you, Bakugou?” you drone lazily, leaning back against your seat to give him a bored look.

“A-Ah, K-Kacchan! G-Good morning- “

“Should’ve stayed at home to rest, idiot.” He tells you, eyes never leaving the bruises and bandages.

“Fuck off.” You replied, knowing the girls from yesterday were watching. Hopefully, that assured them that your relationship was pretty non-existent. Dead.

For the rest of the day, you were teetering on sleep and academic dedication with the former winning at each turn – a drawback of your quirk. Thankfully, you managed to snag some sleep during Japanese Literature and Science.

“Ah, (Nickname), you look like you’re getting better. But it would be wise not to sleep in class next time…” Izuku tells you, beratingly.

Yawning, arms stretched upwards, you fixed your best friend a dopey grin. “That’s alright, I can always depend on you for notes!”

“Really,” he sighs, announcing that you two should probably head off to lunch.

Yawning, you made your way to the meat section, mumbling over and over the things you need to buy for dinner. Lately, because your grandfather’s been working with Eraser Head, he’s been quite antsy when it comes to food, and a bit demanding, too!

Tonight, he wanted steak. FUCKING. STEAK. IT WAS EXPENSIVE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! AND HE DIDN’T EVEN SPECIFY WHICH STEAK HE WANTED!

Grumbling under your breath, you were just about to reach for the Wagyu steak (on sale, lucky you) when another hand appeared, reaching for the same thing, making you halt.

“Ah-" looking up, you were met with familiar warm brown eyes. "Uncle Masaru!”

“Oh, (Name)-chan, it’s you!” Came his soothing calm voice, eyes brightening at the sight of you. “It’s been a while.”

“It has been, Uncle.” Your smile grew, turning to him fully before the cold wind gently whispered to your skin as if to remind you. “Ah, you can have it, by the way.”

“No, no, you were reaching for it first.”

“No, I insist!”

“Please, (Name)-chan, it’s the least I can do. Also, this at least gives me an excuse to make something else,” he replies sheepishly with a light chuckle.

You paused at that, processing the information shared. Bakugou must’ve wanted steak for dinner, but since Uncle Masaru gave up the meat, it was yours now. It was your win.

Pettily taking the win as yours, you happily took the steak and dumped it into your basket. “Thanks, Uncle Masaru!”

If he noticed the mischievous – almost devil-like expression on your face, he didn’t mention it. He just smiled, kindly, warmly, like how you remembered.

“How have you been?” he asks you.

Normally, the question would annoy you, because it was rather basic. But it’s not every day you run into sweet, mild, and good-natured Uncle Masaru.

“Eh, I’m doing very well, as you can see.”

“I’m so happy to hear that. You used to be the smallest thing, with scrapes and bruises on your pretty dresses. Whenever you and Izuku were over, it was either a riot or a party.” Okay, you had to laugh at that, but it was true. Uncle Masaru laughs with you. Having him remember those things were endearing, made you feel warm. And guilty.

“I know it might seem awkward, but Mitsuki and I would love to have you over for dinner sometime. If that’s okay with you? Of course, you can bring Izuku-kun.”

Glancing up, you met the man’s kind gaze, the one thing Bakugou never got from him – everything was from his mom, he only ever got Uncle Masaru’s spiky hair and height.

You didn’t want to say no, neither can you say yes, but you sure as heck didn’t want to disappoint Uncle Masaru.

“No promise, Uncle Masaru,” his expression fell, shoulders dropping. “but, I’ll see what I can do.”

He smiled weakly. “Then that’s more than enough for me. Just don’t be a stranger, (Name)-chan, okay?”

Smiling softly, you bowed at the older man and turned on your heel.

Cutting your losses with someone really hurts, especially when it involves certain people.

Cutting off from Bakugou meant you had cut off all contact with his parents, whom you loved so much since they took care of you for a time when your parents had passed – both taking turns to visit you when you were deep in depression. It hurt, but it was expected when you decide to cut someone from your life. Nobody is spared.

This time it was seven-against-one.

After having their asses served to them, those bitches managed to talk some filthy high schoolers into beating a middle schooler. A quirkless middle schooler.

Rolling your shoulders, you enjoyed the burn of your wakened muscles. “Wow, you bitches really want to make yourselves look bad in front of an audience, huh?”

So far, they’ve all showed to have power quirks that could be readily usable for the future, should they decide to make use of it. Sadly, their prized quirks turned out to be nothing but a waste for these fuckers.

You easily toyed with them for the first few minutes, allowing a few hits in before retaliating with a force and speed that was twice theirs. You made sure that the punches and kicks, especially to those bitches, stung and hurt, they were your own brute strength honed from training and your quirk.

A sickening crunch rang in your ear after some high school student punched you in the cheek, you made sure to return the favor by capturing his next punch, taking your legs up to strangle him by the neck, catching him completely by surprise, using your weight to swing your body towards an approaching somebody before jumping off.

Watching the two high schoolers stumble to the ground, you lazily walked up to the rest, fingers caked with dirt, grime, and blood, knuckles aching, a dark bruise forming on your arm, (h/c) hair was a mess.

Spitting blood on the ground, you wiped the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning at your next opponent, eyes glinting dangerously, menacingly, excitedly.

The rest of them faltered at your expression but didn’t back down.

That was alright, that meant they weren’t complete pussies after all.

Also, you liked fighting.

You came from a family of fighters, the thrill of it made your blood sing, made your instincts come alive – it made you feel alive.

“Hey, I’m a little disappointed,” you call out, watching the group – beaten and bruised. “you lot say you’re strong, an added bonus is your oh-so-cool quirks, so beating a measly, quirkless middle schooler like me should be no problem,” working on your most sickening grin, you tilted your head. “right?”

“Fucking bitch!”

“Now you’re really asking for it!”

“We’ll beat you black and blue!”

Falling into a stance, adrenaline rushed through your veins (and mentally preparing for a tongue lashing from your grandfather), when an explosion went off.

Clouds of smoke and sand filling the air, gushing furiously against the wind, making you squint.

“OI! IS THIS SOME DIRTY TRICK!?” you yelled, voice fading into noise of wind, sand, and explosions.

More explosions went off, going out at random – big, small, small then big. There was screaming and panicking on their end. Maybe they’ve probably found themselves in some yakuza turf and are being under attack? Shit, you had to make a run for it while you had the chance!

The sudden change of scene wasn’t good for your senses, everything was completely mushy and too much to comprehend. You at least remember where you put your bag, running towards a certain direction, you stopped at the sight of one of the fuckers. Their eyes widened at the sight of you, you readied a fist, but the gust was making your eyes water.

Falling to your knees, you covered your mouth as you coughed – having inhaled too much smoke and dust in your lungs, he saw this as an opportunity to attack you. But something grabbed him by the shoulders, some punches and groans followed, then an explosion could be heard before footsteps approached you.

Too busy coughing your lungs out, you were ready for any pain thrown at you, especially when you were at your most vulnerable.

Instead, a garb lands on your head, shielding you, arms easily scooping you off the ground, something lands on your belly, then loud hurried footfalls were taking you away from the scene.

The more you coughed, the more it felt like your lungs were going to give out, too strained to heighten your senses.

Eventually, your cough died down, your hands rubbing at your chest from coughing too much, throat dried out.

Ah, I probably will run into those assholes again, since we weren’t able to finish the fight.

You must’ve passed out – or dozed off, you weren’t sure – because the next thing you knew, you were being lowered down gently on a soft and cool sofa.

“W-Where…?”

Tugging the garb off your head, (e/c) eyes flinched at the light, strained to make out the furniture around you, the familiar TV set, the fancy-looking wall panel, the familiar staircase, that unmistakable family portrait – one brunette, two explosive blondes-

Wait, you were at Bakugou’s place?

What the heck, you haven’t set foot here in forever! Why’d he bring you here?

Fully coming to, you turned to the blond “Why’d you bring me here!?” you had to ask, demanding.

The sudden movement stung at your fresh injuries, making you coil in your seat.

“Where else was I going to take you?” he replied immediately, coolly, loud enough for you to hear as he was taking two bottles of water from the refrigerator. “My place was closest, yours takes a while to get there, plus, you wouldn’t want to worry your family, right?”

You stared at him, distrustfully, then at the water offered to you, shocked to find that he remembered how much your family would worry over your injuries – big or small. He was always the one carrying you home, almost witnessing first-hand how much your mother would be near tears, your grandfather giving you a murderous-worried look, and your father just ash-faced and pale.

Taking the water from his hand, you nodded your thanks, pressing the cool item against your jaw, hissing in pain from the punch thrown earlier.

Carmine eyes narrowed at that, an emotion crossing over them.

“Don’t move,” he orders, walking off somewhere, you don’t care, eyes wandering around the area. It’s been a while since you were here, the last time was when it was his 10th birthday. After that, though, you and Izuku stopped receiving invitations.

Twisting the cap open, you took gentle sips, relishing in the cool water running down your throat.

The Bakugous were loaded – because Uncle Masaru worked in the fashion industry and Auntie Mitsuki worked in a cosmetics company. The two adored you, treating you like a daughter they never had – Uncle Masaru would gift you cute dresses (which Bakugou would make fun of you whenever you wore them) whenever he can, and Auntie Mitsuki was a hard-ass woman you looked up to.

But since discovering his quirk, Bakugou had become unbearable to be with, a shitty friend to both you and Izuku, ties had to be severed. However, that also meant not being able to see Uncle Masaru and Auntie Mitsuki, who were surely saddened by you and Izuku’s absence.

Suddenly, Bakugou was in front of you, his gakuran unbuttoned, exposing his shirt underneath, a first aid kit in hand. Eyes meeting, a silent conversation was being held, carmine clashing against (e/c). Fixing him a dull stare, he clicked the first aid kid open. With a roll of your eyes, you allowed him to clean your wounds.

Silence filled in, nothing you both seemed to mind. Surprisingly, for a guy with an explosive, volatile quirk and a shitty attitude, he was rather gentle. Not like you’ll ever tell him that, eyes looking around the house, remembering the times you were over with Izuku, anything to avoid staring at him in awe.

“Do they always come for you…” having finished cleaning most of your wounds, his voice came out quiet, but you heard it, a statement rather than a question.

Blinking, you were unsure if he deserved an answer. He thought that was the case and asked again, dipping iodine into the cotton, “Do they always-“

“I don’t see how this is any of your concern.”

Noticeably, his fingers stilled. Then, something smoked, it was the cotton ball, now reduced to ashes. A beat passed before he found himself working again, getting another cotton, now applying ointment to your bruises.

“Do you always need to fight them back?” There was a slight edge to his voice, controlled yet on the verge of breaking.

(E/c) hardened down on him, a seesaw of options playing in your head.

“Have to.” You reply breezily, watching him snap his head up to meet your gaze, unfazed by the anger in his carmine eyes. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“No shit.” He growled, hands beginning to shake. “What I do understand is the disciplinary action you’re gonna get once people find out you’ve been fighting fellow students, even if it were an act of self-defense! Y-You,” he slammed his fist into the glass table beside him, cracking it a little, his head hanging. “you could’ve just called the teachers, told them, too. About those bitches…”

“Again, I don’t see how this is- “

“YOU’LL BE FUCKING EXPELLED, (NAME)!” head still hung low, you could feel his hot breath and tufts of his hair against your skin, making you tingle a bit. It scared you to be this close to him, after all this time. Scared of how he was still protective of you.

Hating how you could hear the guilt in his voice because, in a way, he caused this, he allowed this, he was the reason. He was scared for you.

And he called you by your name.

The seesaw in your head continued, teetering, options weighing one after another.

“…why do you care?” One option up, the other falls. In the end, you just destroyed the seesaw. “Why waste your breath and time on an extra like me, quirkless too, if I might add, why waste your time?”

His head snapped up to yours, his expression was a shock to you. Why…why did he look so devastated, so crushed, so- “(Name)…”

Unable to stay any longer, never mind your still healing body, you stood. “I’m going now. Thanks for treating my injuries. I’ll..." you gulp, hard. "I'll try to avoid getting into fights.” Without waiting for a reply, you grabbed your bag, heading towards the door. “Bye.”

The next day, extremely exhausted from the fighting, Izuku once again panicked at the sight of your bruised and beaten face. When you reached the classroom, you were more than ready to meet the gazes of those bitches – only to find out they had been suspended, as they were given serious warnings should they cause another fight with you.

Apparently, someone had reported their involvement in ganging up on a quirkless student. Plus, there was a video of them taunting you since first year.

Bakugou was in his seat, looking anywhere but your way. Returning the gesture, you quietly sat in your seat, listening to whatever Izuku had to say.

Since then, you swore never to get into fights anymore for the sake of Izuku, and because Bakugou practically begged you.

“How’s school?” your grandfather asked, helping himself to some bok choy.

Shrugging easily, you cut a piece of steak, gesturing for his bowl to serve it to him. “Could be worse, but I’m doing fine.”

“Clarify, silly girl.”

“Mathematics continues to chew me in the ass,” you tell him, avoiding the hit thrown your way.

(Name) – 1, Shihan – 0.

“You’re failing already!?”

“Translation: it’s difficult, not I’m failing. Geez, old man, context!”

You barely dodged the chop aimed for your head, making you wince from the pressure.

(Name) – 1, Shihan – 1.

“That’s no way to talk to your elders, silly girl!” handing you an empty bowl, you nearly pawed it off his hands.

Angrily, you scooped him his heaping, a mound of hot rice returned to him. “Where do you think I take it from!?”

(Name) – 2, Shihan – 1.

“Enough arguing, more eating, foolish girl! We have training to do!”

(Name) – 2, Shihan – 2.

Narrowing your eyes at your grandfather, you wished lasers would come out just to fry off the last of his remaining hair out of petty spite.

Regardless, you loved your grandfather and appreciated these banters. He was rough on you, only because he wanted to teach you to be strong and to be able to hold off whatever was thrown your way so you can repay them back twice, thrice, or ten times more.

You were his pride and joy the moment you were born and swore to your parents that he’d guide and protect you so long as he was still kicking.

“I ran into Uncle Masaru today.”

“Oh! How is the man?”

“Same as always. Not a single grey hair in sight, despite living in a household full of rabid Pomeranians and hitting his forties.”

The Yoruichi patriarch stared down at you, unamused. “Please don’t tell me you told him that.”

Snickering, you deftly avoided his chops.

(Name) – 3, Shihan – 2.

“Gramps, please, like I’d be so willing to break Uncle Masaru’s heart.”

“You don’t have a problem doing that to me.”

“Simple: you’re literally and figuratively old,” you pointed with your chopsticks, waving them in the air as you enumerated more. “you’re Shihan of our dojo, and you have to raise me!”

(Name) – 4, Shihan – 3.

You failed to block the flick on your forehead after finishing your piece.

“Don’t wave your chopsticks in the air, fool, it’s rude.” Snickering at your whining, knowing it’ll leave a mark, he ate more steak. “And easy there with your words, silly girl, otherwise, I’ll repay your kindness in training!”

Recovering, you smirk, helping yourself to some steak. “Bring it! You know I love a good challenge!”

“Oho? My, someone’s cocky.”

“I wouldn’t be your granddaughter, either way.”

You two laughed at that, dinner coming to a finish as your grandfather happily ate the last of the steak. Eyeing the leftovers, you delighted at the thought of tomorrow’s lunch.

Just as you were to clean up, your grandfather asked a question: “By the way, how is the young Bakugou boy?”

(Name) – 4, Shihan – 4.

You stopped at that, hands freezing in the air, feeling your grandfather’s stare on you.

“Dunno.” Came your reply, hands found themselves resuming their work. “Don’t care.”

He watched in silence as you arranged the empty plates, bowls, and chopsticks. “Still not in speaking terms, eh?”

“Yep.”

Your grandfather didn’t have to ask to know that something changed between the three of you, especially with you and Bakugou. What you two had was not something so easy to forget, especially when both of you had been so close. Since then, his name had been taboo in the house.

“He goes to UA with Izuku, right?”

At the mention, you feel the tension seeping away slightly, mouth fixed in a straight line. “Yeah…”

“Are they in speaking terms?”

That made you scoff, fixing your grandfather a dubious look. “Civil, to say the least. Izuku’s not a brute, not like that other one.”

The animosity was clear in your tone as you talked about the other boy, like a bitter pill. Strong arms, decorated in scars and tattoos, crossed against his chest, displeased yellow eyes fixed on you.

“Has he tried talking to you?”

Shrugging with one shoulder, you turned to a lone rice on the table, flicking it without care. “He has, but they’re pretty half-assed.”

“What makes you say that?” to which, he received another shrug from you, mouth twisted into a twisted pout.

Consciously, you reached for your mark, rubbing at it with your fingers. “Some things are better left unsaid, the same way that some things buried should never be unearthed. It’s better off that way.”

His eyes never left your form, taking in your slouch, the look on your face, the sadness in your eyes. “Are you talking about yourself? Because that’s a rather selfish line of thinking, don’t you think?” Shifting, he slowly stood from the table, you watched him stand and met his gaze, offering you a sad look. “In a way, aren’t you being half-assed, yourself?”

Winner: Shihan, Loser: (Name).

masterlist • six

[ri-ahhh]

i can already tell off the bad grayson would be so protective of his s/o. even his friends tbh. like just imagine a boy bothering you and he comes to the rescue

Ugh yes. Ik some girls are against the idea of a man protecting them or whatever but I think it’s nice to have a guy that will watch out for you over some creeps.

Maybe one day you’re at a mall — you, Ethan, and Grayson — and you decide to leave the two of them at the Apple store in favor of meeting up with them at lulu lemon whenever they get finished there.

You approach the athletic store, which is moderately busy at most, and greet the two guys standing at the front with a friendly smile.

Immediately, the fit, sandy-haired one makes the step towards you in that typical, over-hyped salesman fashion.

“Hi there! Can I help you find anything?”

This guy is only a little taller than yourself, but combined with the fact that he’s stepped a couple inches too close for your comfort, and the way his blue eyes dart across your body, you immediately get hit by a sense of intimidation that you’re not used to. You don’t feel threatened, but it’s still not a pleasant sensation to be bombarded like that.

“Ah,” you take a casual step back, trying to make it look natural, as if you’re just searching the store with your gaze, “I’m just looking for now. Thanks, though.”

“No prob,” he replies with what is clearly supposed to be a charming smile. “I’m Jackson. Come holler at me if you need anything at all.”

Jackson actually holds out his hand, and before you can analyze how fucking weird that is, you take it in your own. Your cold hand feels even icier despite the heat coming from his.

“I like your outfit, by the way,” he winks, and you wiggle your hand from his grip at once as you glance down at what you’re wearing. Shorts from this very store, a wakeheart hoodie you stole from Grayson, and Nike flip flops. You couldn’t look more basic and inconspicuous if you tried, really. “Those shorts are on the back wall.”

“Uh, thanks,” you say, and finally walk away from Jackson as quickly as possible.

Now that you’ve escaped, you remember you really did have a question about finding some leggings, but Jackson had thrown you off so much that the thought had completely left your mind until now. You search the store for a female associate, and upon finding them all busy, settle for searching through some gym tops.

“You still doing okay, babe?”

Not even ten minutes later, you look up casually from where you’re flicking through hangers trying to find your size, thinking maybe whoever just said that was talking to someone else — because there’s no way some random dude just called you ‘babe’, right?

Wrong. Jackson is standing a couple feet away, twirling his lanyard around his fingers in a way that directly reminds you of the douchebag football players in high school that would stand in the hallway of the fieldhouse and cat-call the female athletes coming in and out of their respective locker rooms.

You fight back the urge to scrunch up your nose in disgust, and give him a tight smile that will hopefully convey your disinterest. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Jackson winks again and gives you a thumbs up as he walks back to his post at the front of the store. You roll your eyes at his tapered back, and brush his behavior off as just typical asshole antics.

With the store becoming more crowded, you’ve still yet to find an open sales girl whose attention hasn’t been swooped away by another customer, so you meander into the men’s section. Grayson needed some new shorts himself, and you’re always happy to shop for him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a head approaching that’s starting to look familiar.

Go away go away go away...

“Wrong section, beautiful,” Jackson laughs, leaning against a clothes rack, taking no care in the slightest to hide the way his eyes rake up your entire form from head to toe.

You cringe, both from his words and his gaze. Your phone buzzes in your hand, and you take a moment to ignore Jackson and answer the text from Gray.

Just left Apple, be there in a few💕

You glance up and see Jackson still standing there, watching you with an amused little smirk. You wonder if he thinks you’re being coy, or shy, or if he’s caught on to how uncomfortable you are and is reveling in it the way some ass hats like him do.

Hurry pls. This guy won’t leave me alone.

Jackson looks at you expectantly when you press the button to lock your phone screen. You’re done being nice by now, and you snatch up Grayson’s size in a pair of light blue, 5-inch shorts that will look fantastic on him.

“They’re for my boyfriend,” you state clearly, flatly. “And it’s 2020, I can wear whatever the hell I want, even if they weren’t for him.”

You start to try to go past him without another word, but he throws his hands up apologetically. “Damn, okay, I totally feel you, my bad babe. Are you sure there’s nothing else I can help you find?”

You look around, but there are no other workers in sight, and you figure you might as well just ask the question so that you can get the hell out of here.

“Fine, yeah, do you carry longer inseams or talls of leggings in store?”

Jackson smiles brightly, evidently thrilled that you took him up on his offer, and snaps into a finger-gun gesture. “I do,” he says, shifting next to you so you’re standing side-by-side. “I assumed you’d need that with those great legs. Let’s go here...”

And then, this man has the audacity to put his hand on the small of your back, trying to guide you between racks of shirts.

That’s the last straw for you. Just as you wheel around to grab his forearm and push him off of you, a deep, familiar, voice echoes in the little corner of the store you’re all in.

“Excuse me?”

Your eyes see heavily tattooed legs first, then the baby pink shorts you love so much, a hard stomach and broad chest clung to tightly by a white shirt, and finally a bearded, hard-set jaw you’d recognize anywhere.

“Hi, baby,” you sigh out in relief, stepping into his side and wrapping your arms around his trim middle.

You step on your toes and kiss his chin sweetly, your heart settling back in your chest from where it has dropped to the pit of yours stomach only a moment ago. Grayson’s thick arm curls around your shoulders and pulls you closer to him, his eyes stone cold and unwavering on Jackson, who looks rightfully terrified suddenly.

“Are you the guy my girl’s telling me keeps harassing her?” Grayson asks sternly, his Jersey coming out thick and making him even more intimidating.

“I — uh, I wasn’t —“

“Shut up,” Grayson interrupts Jackson’s stuttering. “If I didn’t believe in karma, I’d go find your manager right now and make sure your ass was fired before we leave this place. Don’t fuckin follow girls around, or put your hands on them, especially mine. Got it, asshole?”

Jackson swallows thickly and nods. “I’m sorry.”

“Tell that to her, not me,” Grayson says, motioning towards you with his head.

Jackson looks at you and repeats the apology, and you nod. “Go do your actual job, please.”

“Wait,” Grayson says, taking the clothes out of your hands and shoving them roughly into Jackson’s. “We won’t be buying these today. Goodbye.”

The two of you watch Jackson shrink away, and you release your hold on Grayson to cup his stubbles cheeks as he makes sure the other man is as far away from you two as possible.

“You good?” you check, feeling the rapid pulse under his chin and the muscled tick of his jaw beneath your hands.

Grayson takes a deep breath, then cups your hands with his as he leans down and captures your lips with a surprising softness and restraint.

“Yeah,” he answers when he pulls back, swiping a shiny little bead of saliva from your lower lip. “Come on, lets get out of here. E is in Joyrich.”

“That was kinda hot, you know,” you say once you’re walking down the open corridor hand-in-hand, fingers interlaced tightly by Grayson. “I should make you jealous more often. In a more consensual, less creepy way than that, though.”

Grayson grunts a little and releases your hand in favor of wrapping his arm around your shoulders once again, and yours snakes behind his back.

“Please don’t, I don’t think I could take it. I feel like I need to take a shit, punch a wall, and fuck you senseless all at the same time right now.”

You burst out laughing, and your fingers dip just below the waistband of his shorts and boxers teasingly. “Let’s find Ethan and go home then, and you can do all of those things.”

[the-black-birb]

Hi! New follower here but I love your writing, for the prompt list I would love your take on 29/30 with Kuroo! 💕💕 ty !

A/N: Thank you for requesting! I got a little carried away with this and it got really drawn out, hope you enjoy!! I could see myself writing this as a fully-fleshed out story, tell me if you’re interested :)

also for @thenerdyrebel i said I'd make it up to you with Kuroo fluff huhuhuhu

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Kuroo needs a girlfriend for a week. You’re set on making him regret asking you for a favor.

Your relationship with Kuroo was anything but serious. That was a given, considering the two of you were only dating because Yaku dared Kuroo. It was simple, really.

“I bet you can’t get a girlfriend for a full week,” he prompted, knowing Kuroo’s busy schedule between volleyball and college exams. That mixed with his awful personality and he was lucky if a girl stuck around for a conversation.

Still, Kuroo couldn’t say no to a bet, and he had just the person in mind.

“[Y/N],” he approached you one day during lunch, expression screaming mischief. You looked at him doubtfully.

“What are you planning on involving me in today, Tetsurou?” you weren’t unfamiliar with his scheming nature. Three years in the same class made the two of you more than just acquaintances, and you’d been known to do each other favors in times of need.

“Remember that time you stayed up late watching anime so I wrote your essay for you so you could sleep the next day?” he smirked at you. You nodded. “And remember how you said you owed me big time?”

You sighed. “What?”

“Yaku said I couldn’t have a girlfriend for a week,” he says bluntly. You look at him confused.

“You want me to find some poor girl that wants to date you? Hun, that’s impossible,” you dismissed, ignoring the pounding in your chest.

“No, no. That’s too risky. I want you to date me,” he grinned, looking at you like this was a fantastic idea. You fought down the heat rising to your cheeks. Date me? You thought to yourself. Date me? He wants to date me?

“Well, fake date.” Oh. The disappointment sunk in. That makes more sense.

You shook your head. It was no surprise Kuroo didn’t want to date you, but you could still get something out of this. “Buy me noodles every weekend for a lunch,” you replied, gaze unwavering.

Kuroo sighed. That was a lot. “Two weeks?”

You shook your head. “Three.”

“You’re on.”

The two of you shook on it, and you were officially “dating.”

Kuroo wasn’t getting off the hook that easily, though. If you were going to be his girlfriend, you were going to be the most obnoxious girlfriend he’d ever had. You were going to make everyone question why he would ever want to date you.

At first, you were very subtle about it. You did everything you thought a good girlfriend should do, like make him lunch and wear his team jacket. To confirm the whole thing, you made sure Yaku was watching you.

Unfortunately, you were a horrible cook and a bit of a slob.

“This is inedible,” Kuroo groaned as soon as Yaku left the room. You smiled at him deviously.

“You don’t want to eat your girlfriend’s homemade cooking,” you faked a pout. He smacked the back of your head.

“We both know you can’t cook [F/N],” he reminded you, taking out the lunch that he prepared from home. Unlike you, Kuroo had some skills in the kitchen.  You were about to leave to buy lunch (because obviously you weren’t going to make yours) when he placed a second container in front of you.

Oh.

“You think I’m letting my girlfriend eat some shitty school lunch when I know she can’t cook?” Was he blushing?

You wanted to laugh at him, really, but he was being too sweet. Instead, you sat down with him and prepared to eat. Still, you couldn’t resist…

“Aww, did your mommy make it for you?” He kicked you under the table. You just laughed.

You continued to be a “good” girlfriend, shouting at him in the hallways and clinging to his arm to make it difficult for him to walk. You tried to keep your antics to a minimum; after all you couldn’t let him catch on too early.

Good girlfriends even visited their boyfriend’s volleyball practice, you determined. So you thought you should surprise them! And as your surprise you accidentally opened the clubroom while the boys were changing… you tried to help set up equipment and somehow balls were all rolling out of the gym… truly you were a disaster. Finally, Kuroo approached you.

“Don’t help with clean up,” he set stubbornly. You looked up at him with big, round eyes feigning innocence.

“Why not? You guys don’t have a manager to handle things so it’s the least I can do,” you smiled at him. He hugged through his nose.

“Nope. Don’t want my girlfriend staying up late for me. Go home and get some rest,” he demanded, walking away from you.

“You won’t even walk me home,” you whined, hoping you could get a few more hours out of fun with him. Kuroo turned to you, eyes stern.

“No.”

You didn’t argue with that.

Still, your antics continued for the next few days. You showed up to school late, you’d wear your uniform wrong, you’d talk loudly during class, whatever you could do to be obnoxious. People would be absolutely appalled that the captain of Nekoma’s renowned volleyball team was dating you.

As usual, you went to Nekoma’s practice. Today, you were holding tightly to Kuroo’s hand (“Yaku has some doubts,” he told you that morning. “We’ve got to amp it up.”). You walked into the gym and sat on the sideline, already banned from touching equipment. Truly, you didn’t mind this. The team greeted you as they entered, and you pulled out a notebook to get started on your homework.

Occasionally, you’d grab water for the team but you were so tired from being a nuisance during the day, you really didn’t have energy to interrupt practice. And, although you’d never say this if anyone asked, you got to wear Kuroo’s team jacket and watch him play. He looked so into it, he was having so much fun. You wondered how it felt.

Although previous practices you’d either been removed by Kuroo or chosen to leave when the sunset, tonight you had lost track of time. Before you knew it, the moon was high and the boys were starting to clean up.

“Hey.” Kuroo walked up to you. “You’re still here?”

You pretended you didn’t feel the heat rising to your cheeks when he noticed. You looked to your notes, as if the answer to this situation would be there. “Whoops!” you stuttered with a nervous laugh. “I guess I got distracted watching…I’ll just…go… now…” You hastily stood with your bag, getting ready to leave. The quicker you got home, the less risk there was of someone lurking in the dark.

“Wait a few minutes,” Kuroo said absentmindedly, putting away volleyballs. “I’ll walk you home.”

You wondered if he knew what his words did to your poor heart.

Patiently, you waited by the door watching as he and his team cleaned up the gym. Finally, he grabbed his bag and ushered you out the door with him.

Out of habit, his hand reached to grab yours as the two of you walked. You thought about teasing him, wondering if he needed a thumb to suck, too. But the quiet hum of crickets and the calm sky told you this wasn’t the right time.

Your hand stayed firmly in his the whole walk home.

The next day, you were back to your usual antics. Today you had a magnificent plan. You had eaten an omelet for breakfast this morning, but asked your mother to put extra onion and garlic in it. When you got to school, you made sure everyone knew.

“Hhhhhello darling,” you smiled at Kuroo. He looked like he was about to vomit.

“Did you eat a dumpster? Your breath stinks,” he wafted a hand over his face, trying to dismiss the smell. You smiled sweetly.

“Aww don’t be like that. I just hhhad some garlic. You hhhave got to try omelets with garlic, they are just delicious. Especially hhhomemade,” you trailed on, making sure to drag out all of your h’s so Kuroo got the full effect.

“Wow, look at that. Class is starting,” he turned forward in his seat, discreetly shoving a few mints your way.

To make matters worse, Lev had finally caught wind of your relationship. “You’re dating the captain?” he asked you during lunch (you stopped by to tutor occasionally). You grinned up at the first-year, ready to put your plan in place.

“Yes, he’s really dreamy.” Lev made a face that said he disagreed and it took all your willpower not to laugh. “But he hasn’t kissed me yet. I wonder if I did something wrong…”

As if on cue, Kuroo walked into the first-year classroom, lunchbox in hand. “Oh [F/N], there you are. You wanna eat?” he held up his second meal, looking at you expectantly. You turned to Lev bidding goodbye, but he had other plans.

“Captain, how can you not kiss your girlfriend?” he asked, confused look on his face. “You’re so lucky to have such a pretty girl and you won’t even treat her right…”

Kuroo glared at you, handing you the lunchbox swiftly.

“If you’re not careful, someone might steal her,” Lev teased, but the look on his face was mischievous. You wanted to laugh. He’ll only care if they steal me in the next few days, you thought.

Kuroo opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by the bell. Instead, he smirked in a way that sent chills up your smile. “See you at practice, Lev,” he threatened.

His grip on your hand as you walked back to class was tighter than usual. He looked down at you curiously, trying to figure out what you were planning. “You think I’d kiss someone whose mouth smells like cat shit?” he quips as you walk in class.

Seeing there’s no Yaku around you give your honest reply. “Don’t worry, Tetsurou, I know you wouldn’t kiss me if my mouth smelled like flowers and fairy shit,” you retorted, getting out your schoolwork. “I just want to have a little fun,” you winked.

Too busy getting ready for class, you didn’t hear his quiet protest to your statement.

Class continued as usual. You sat quietly through the day, head occasionally falling. Kuroo stifled a laugh, you looked bored to death. He wondered how much you slept last night.

Partway through English, a note slipped onto his desk. In messy handwriting is said "how much money would you give me to flip this table right here, right now, in the middle of class?" It took willpower not to start laughing right there. He scribbled back quickly "I'll add one more weekend of noodles " and passed the note back to you. He saw you smirk when you read it, and write a hurried reply.

Before the note got back to him, you were on the floor, gripping your thigh in pain, and your desk was on the ground.

Kuroo tried to ignore the fact that from this position everyone could see your striped underwear. Instead he was worried about the incredible look of pain on your face and the curse words stringing from your mouth.

After a moment, you sat up, arm still rubbing your thigh but in a far less incriminating position.

"Sorry," you said sheepishly. "Leg cramp."

The teacher opened their mouth, clearly about to give you a scolding, but Kuroo was one step ahead. He slipped the note, which he still had yet to read, into his bag, and stood up to help clean up the mess you made. He pulled you up to stand, hand gripping your arm to support you.

"I'll bring her to the nurse," he assured the teacher, rushing out of the room.

As soon as you go to the hallway, the two of you burst into laughter. "You're crazy," he assure you. "Absolutely insane."

You smiled at him brightly. "You're just jealous you didn't have the balls to do it yourself," you retorted, tripping over yourself with laughter. "You hate English, anyways."

Kuroo shook his head. "Sure but I wouldn't flash the whole class to get out of it," he said through a fit of giggles. "You're wild [F/N]."

You shrugged. "So where do you want to go now?" You inquired, wandering the halls. Kuroo looked perplexed.

"Well we're not going to the nurse's office and I doubt he's expecting us to go back to class," you smiled at Kuroo. "We've got an hour until practice. Where would you like to go?"

Kuroo felt his heart skip a beat. He didn't know what to say.

You smiled at him, and he wanted to be the only person who got to see you look like that. "I know, come with me." You grabbed his hand and started walking.

He wasn't sure how long the two of you walked for. Five minutes? Ten? Usually, silence with you was deafening. You were always trying to crack a joke or make noise. But this was comfortable. He was comfortable. Finally, the two of you arrived at a park close to Nekoma. It wasn't anything special, really, but it felt private. Like the whole world was put on pause for the two of you.

You sat on the swing, mindlessly rocking back and forth. You were staring at the ground.

"So when all of this is over," you still weren't looking at him. "Do we fake a huge breakup? I mean, the whole school knows at this point." You grinned at him. "Wouldn't want them to think you're stuck with me much longer, would you?"

Kuroo smirked. Whatever you could dish out, he could serve back. "What?" He teased. "Afraid if you stick around much longer you'll fall for me for real?"

Your laughter was music to his ears. He leaned against the swingset, watching you move back and forth slowly. "I would never," you teased back. "I'm far too sophisticated for the likes of you," you assured him, swinging back and forth.

"Right," he nodded. "Polka dot panties scream sophistication. Were they pink, too?"

Your ears turned bright red. “They were striped and blue and I didn’t expect you to look!” you retorted (although the last part was a lie, you were fairly certain everyone in the class was looking)

“Hmm,” Kuroo purred. “They were? I think I’ll have to check…” he walked towards you on the swing, hands out in front of him. You were quick to jump off and run from him, but he chased after you nonetheless.

The two of you ran around the park playfully, going up ladders and down slides and Kuroo pretended to grab at you (if he truly wanted to, you were sure he’d be able to catch up to you). Although you had always been the clumsy one out of the two of you, Kuroo had his moments as well. Soon, he was tripping over his own two feet and bring you down with him.

Somehow, you ended on the ground laughing, Kuroo’s form hovering over yours. It was close, closest you’ve been with someone since you were a little kid on a playground. But the way his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you from truly falling, and the warmth radiating from his body and his huge grin… it was worth it.

Eventually, the two of you calmed down and Kuroo stood, offering you a hand. You accepted quietly. “Back to school?” you suggested. He still had practice. Nodding in agreement, the two of you walked hand in hand back to Nekoma.

When you got to school, there was something noticeably different about the air between the two of you. Although you continued your banter, something had eased the tension. No one on Nekoma’s team was sure what exactly it was, but their captain seemed far more relaxed than he had for months.

During break, Lev walked up to you. “[L/N], has he still not kissed you?” he whispered like it was your little secret. You froze, discreetly reaching for your mints. You hoped Yaku didn’t hear him.

You thought back to the park. He hadn’t kissed you, but somehow it felt more personal than a kiss. “Don’t worry about it, Lev,” you assured him with a friendly smile. “Besides, I think you have bigger things to worry about…” Yaku was walking your way, surely to retrieve the tall first-year.

Kuroo watched the two of you talk and walked over to you. “Is he making you uncomfortable?” he asked defensively. You realized how close he was standing to you and suddenly were awfully glad you grabbed that mint.

“Nope!” you assured. “Why? Jealous?” you grinned, expecting nothing to come of it. Kuroo had to get back to practice anyways.

Instead, he swept down and planted a firm kiss on your cheek. “Just a bit,” he whispered in your ear, before turning around and heading back to practice. The warmth of his breath on your ear and his lips against your cheek lingered. For a moment, you wished this week would never end.

But practice had to end, and Kuroo walked you home like normal. It wasn’t until he was back at his own home, finishing homework, that he remembered the note placed on his desk. He went into his bag to find it and uncrumpled it to see your note, his, and then below it in familiar handwriting… 

Are you asking me on a date? I accept

He groaned, throwing the note across the room and covering his face with his hands. Warmth pooled in his chest as he remembered the feeling of his hand in yours and the way you laughed running across the playground… he never wanted it to end.

Although he tossed and turned in bed kept up with thoughts of you and of tomorrow being the last day you’d be ‘fake-dating,’ he eventually fell into a dreamless slumber. After all, the only dreams he had were when he was together with you.

The next morning, you were late for school. Not late like you were later than usual, or you barely got to class, but that you walked in, interrupting the whole class. You were visibly disheveled, and dishing out apology after apology. The teacher took you into the hallway.

It was hard to make out what they were saying, but it was clear you were getting a stern talking-to. Eventually, you made it back into the classroom, awkwardly sitting in your seat and trying to avoid the noisy eyes of your classmates.

You weren’t exactly a class clown, but you were definitely someone who caught everyone’s attention. After spending the whole week drawing eyes to yourself, he wondered why now you decided to hide from it. You had nothing to hide from, he thought.

At lunchtime, he approached you like normal, with an extra lunch in hand. “So, detention?” he asked. You nodded solemnly. “Again?” It had been a while, but for a bit, you were a serial-detention-attendee. It was never really your fault, you were just late and busy and school never really clicked with you. Three years of having class together and Kuroo noticed it, too.

But you’d worked hard to improve your record, and it had been months since your last detention. Still, the slip weighed down on your desk like a metal anchor, dragging you down. You sighed defeatedly.

“Stupid me. I just had to walk my siblings to school… make sure they had lunch money… next time I just won’t show up,” you muttered to yourself. Kuroo furrowed his eyebrows. You weren’t usually one to get down, even when you had rough patches.

“C’mon it’s just some time after school. You’ll be fine,” he guaranteed you, brushing off your concerns. You nodded, smiling weakly.

“Yeah. You’re right,” you mumbled, eating your food dejectedly.

You weren’t very talkative for the rest of lunch.

Kuroo racked his mind, trying to figure out what he could do to make you feel better. He thought about offering you some noodles, but he did enough of that. A card? No, too cheesy… 

Before he knew it, it was the end of the day and you were cleaning up the classroom before heading off to your dreaded detention. Kuroo stayed back to help, figuring it was the least he could do.

You’d been strangely quiet all day and Kuroo hadn’t been sure what to do. Finally, when the two of you finished up, he thought it easiest to dismiss himself. The silence between you was deafening.

“I’ll just… see you Monday then…” he trailed off, heading to leave the classroom. It was only the two of you in there.

“Wait,” you called after him. He stopped immediately, turning to face you. Your head was to your chest, staring at your shoes, and your hand awkwardly scratched the back of your head. You spoke quietly, but he listened closely to make out your words. “Could you… I know you don’t have volleyball today but could you maybe… could you wait for me?” You breathed in deeply.

“I can’t let my mom find out I got detention, she’s been so happy lately and if she finds out she’ll… she’ll…” Tears threatened to pour from your eyes. Kuroo didn’t say much, but he could see the stress weighing down on your shoulders.

“C’ mere,” he motioned. You moved towards him slightly, and when you were within arms reach, he tugged at your wrists to pull you into a warm embrace. “It’s okay,” he whispered to you. One arm circled around your waist to secure yourself to him, while the other drew circles soothingly into your back. “You’re going to be okay,” he promised. When he spoke, you actually started to believe it.

You wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your head into his neck, sobbing quietly. “It’ll be alright,” he promised, kissing your forehead. For a while, the world stopped and you just relished in the comfort of being completely honest and safe in his arms.

Eventually, Kuroo pulled away but kept his forehead pressed to yours. “Hey,” he whispered.

“I got your shirt all wet,” you apologize through tears. His hand moved to wipe at your cheek and he smiled.

“No worries, I looked better without it anyway,” he teased. You laughed tiredly. “I’ll wait for you, and then we can walk home together. We’ll tell your mother we went out on a date, okay?” He owed you at least four.

You nodded, too tired to argue, and wiped away the tears on your cheeks. “Right. I’ll see you at the gate?” Kuroo smiled at you.

“I’ll be waiting.”

True to his word, he was there when you got out of attention. You were started to look more like yourself again, with color in your cheeks and light in your eyes. Still, there was something sad about your demeanor.

You didn’t greet him, and he didn’t greet you, but the two of you fell into step with one another without question. You were simply meant to be side by side at that moment.

“So… the week is up,” you reminded him with a sad smile. Kuroo felt a weight rest on your shoulders. You were right… a week had passed and there was really no reason for the two of you to “date” any longer. But… 

“What do you want to do?” he asked you. You were the one who was in a tough spot, and he didn’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability. He just wanted to see you happy.

You breathed in sharply. You seemed nervous for some reason, and Kuroo prayed silently that he hadn’t been putting pressure on you. “I’ve been thinking actually. About that day at the park.” You turned to face him. He stopped, giving you time to speak.

“I have a confession. Don’t laugh at me?” you asked anxiously. Kuroo grinned at you.

“I’ll always laugh at you,” he promised and you punched his arm playfully. “All right, all right! No laughter from me, not a peep.” He hoped his face didn’t look too hopeful.

“I know I said I wouldn’t, but I think I fell for you for real. Like, really, totally badly,” you admitted, eyes tracing the ground. “And I get that you did this as a joke, and I’m sure you asked me because I’m the one person who you’d never end up dating but I wanted to be honest with you.” Kuroo felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders. You looked cute rambling. “And you don’t even have to respond! Or walk me home! We can stage a breakup, or just tell everyone it didn’t work out or-”

There was something warm against your lips.

Kuroo’s lips were against your lips. He pulled away, stupid grin still clear on his soft, cherry-flavored lips.

“Why would I break up with someone I’m head over heels for?”

[tazzytypes]

Apocalypse: Sanctuary - Chapter 17

Authors note: Hey guys! Sorry, had to delete and repost this chapter because Tumblr is, once again, giving me difficulties. Just want to thank y'all so much for being patient with me as I finished up with classes. Hoping these next few months will give me more time to work on this fic. As always, your comments and likes always make my day and help me get through the worst of writer's block and I cannot thank you enough for that!

READ MORE on AO3 or see the Master post!

When the witches got back to the academy, the sun had barely risen above the horizon. Emily hadn’t realized how accustomed she had become to the usual hustle and bustle; the silence was nearly as stinging as the constant noise.

They were all dead on their feet. After hell, sleep had eluded Emily. The fact Madison had forced her to sleep on the ground didn’t help… neither did the darkness. It was suffocating, that place. Sometimes she was afraid the underground fortress would become her tomb. They had all tried to catch up on sleep during the plane ride home, but Misty snored so much it made the feat nearly impossible.

So, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, the witches made their way through the door. Zoe grumbled about canceling classes, Cordelia muttering an agreement.

“A break? Already?” Coco said. She stood next to Mallory by the stairs, looking more like butlers than students. The pair must have been the only ones awake, looking to one other and smiling at a silent inside joke. “I like this school.”

“I trust there were no disturbances while we were away?” Myrtle asked, handing off her bags to Kyle who proceeded to take them up the stairs.

If Mallory were a bird, Emily would have said she was preening, “No more than usual.”

Kyle paused by Emily for a moment, hand extended, but she waved him forward. Kyle smiled and nodded, proceeding past them and towards the stairs.

“Oh, lover-boy,” Madison sang as he began to take the first step, pulling Emily’s attention away from Mallory and their headmistress, “my bags?

The blond man hesitated, then doubled back. He rearranged the bags on his arm and picked up the ex-movie star’s numerous suitcases, all either Chanel or some other overpriced name brand.

“You have two arms,” Zoe snapped at the woman, her own bag in hand. Emily’s gaze flickered to the floor, green eyes darting between it, Cordelia, and the scene unfurling before her.

“It’s fine,” Kyle said quietly, giving a pointed look at Zoe, “It’s my job.”

The look seemed to soothe Zoe, her shoulders tense but her back no longer arched like she was about to swing at Madison. Madison opened her mouth, unable to resist not having the last word.

A body barreling into her side kept Emily from hearing exactly what was spoken. By the look on Zoe’s face, it was nothing good.

“Oh, I missed you!” Coco exclaimed, squeezing the girl in a hug. Emily did her best not to tense, but the reaction was second nature to the brunette. “How was California?”

“Dry,” Emily said, earning a chuckle from Coco.

“Obviously you didn’t go to the beach,” Coco said, “How did it go?”

The brunette’s eyes darted to the figure moving towards them, continuing to speak as Mallory approached. For some reason, Emily had expected her and Cordelia’s talk to last longer. She settled in to place beside Coco, listening with an attentive grin.

“We’re all in one piece,” Emily said, looking back to Coco, “so I’d say rather well.”

Mallory reached out and squeezed Emily’s arm, her ever-present grin widening ever slightly. “See? I knew you’d do great!”

“Who’s this, Firefly?”

Misty had always got possessive a little too quickly. It was her vice, clinging to things too tightly. Her mother used to call her a “little python…” the snake in the garden of Eden.

Emily faltered ever slightly. As someone who kept to herself, she was more used to being the one introduced, not the one introducing.

“Coco, Mallory,” She spoke, glancing between the two girls and her new acquaintance, “Misty Day.”

Mallory rushed forward to shake the woman’s hand as if she were meeting Stevie Nicks instead of a girl from the swamplands of Mississippi.

“I’ve heard so much about you from Miss Cordelia. You’re a legend here!”

Misty pulled her shawl in tighter and glanced between Mallory and Emily. Being the center of attention was an anxious position for her. The last time she was the center of attention, she went to hell. The first time had her burned at the stake. Her steps back from Mallory and into Emily’s side were more a flight instinct than an anxious tic.

“Aw, shucks,” the swamp witch said with a flickering smile and a chuckle, “Didn’t think I was here long enough to make an impression.”

“Resurgence is a remarkable power,” Mallory insisted, “If not for you, I would have thought myself a freak.”

“Well, ain’t that sweet.”

Myrtle was quick to rescue the woman from the over-exuberance of the younger witch, placing a steadying hand on Misty’s shoulder. Cordelia was not far behind. Emily could feel her brown eyes on her back like a botanist studying a new plant species.

“While I love pleasantries,” Myrtle said, “I am absolutely famished. Airplane foods always fall flat.”

“It’s because of our sense of smell,” Emily said, trying to ignore the weird looks she was getting, “The altitude affects our nasal passages, making it harder to smell and thus harder to taste. The two are inseparable.”

“So, it’s like how parents plug their kid's nose to get them to take their medicine,” Mallory said. Emily sent her a brief, but thankful smile for making the moment feel less awkward than it was.

“Exactly.”

“Either way,” Myrtle said with a wave of her hand, “I am craving a crème brûlée with a glass of chardonnay.”

Emily smirked a bit before she spoke, “Chardonnay sounds good.”

“Not yet, you,” Cordelia admonished through a chuckle, ruffling Emily’s hair a bit, “We may be lenient with a lot of things, but underage drinking will not be one of them.”

The brunette wanted to note she had done plenty of underage drinking the night before but refrained. Part of being able to bend the rules is pretending you didn’t break them.

“Oh, come on,” Madison said, standing at the back of their little group with her arms crossed in front of her chest, “Little miss indigestion just went to hell. Let her live a little.”

“Maybe a glass,” Cordelia relented, earning a few chuckles from the group. “One.”

Emily echoed the expressions of her fellow witches, but Cordelia’s humor did not amuse her. The headmistresses statement assured her of one thing, however. The brunette had secured a place in the inner circle of Robichaux. It was a feat she would have been proud of before, but now…

Now, the real world seemed so dull. Sensations failed to feel real-- like the world was covered in a fog. Her hands would hover, expecting something to come to her palm and playing off hesitation when it didn’t. Emily had always fancied her dreams to the waking world. The real world now felt more dull than usual. The young witch found herself missing hell, debating whether or not to chase that high.

“Full already?” Cordelia asked at the table they all gathered around. Emily had been picking at her food for the past ten minutes, gaze flickering to the many conversations around the table.

Emily was quick to brush it off, putting down her fork and taking a sip of her sweet tea, “I’ve always eaten like a bird.”

“Birds eat ten times their weight,” Myrtle noted with an amused smile. Cordelia had been so tense since Hawthorne. For once, Myrtle had to be the optimistic one… if only for the sake of maintaining an air of control.

“Good thing I wasn’t talking in ratios.”

Myrtle chuckled and went back to her food, but Cordelia continued to watch Emily carefully as she turned and offered Misty her desert.

“You alright, Firefly?”

“Just tired.”

“Bad dreams?”

“Something like that.”

Cordelia’s glance flickered to her mentor. The slight quirking of the redhead’s brow gave away her own concerns. The headmistress gaze returned to Emily, her posture straightening ever slightly.

“About your personal hell?” she asked.

Emily faltered slightly at her headmistress’s voice. While they were surrounded by people, most had the decency not to eavesdrop on the more intimate conversations — feigning ignorance even if they heard every word. It was one of those unspoken rules of society.

“No. I didn’t have a personal hell.”

Shit.

Her exhaustion and weird mindset had made her careless. Then again, Cordelia was supposed to help with things such as these, right? The whole point of being here was to learn. How could she learn if she never asked questions? Why did her gut churn like she had been caught with her hands painted red?

Green eyes slowly turned to the brown ones that had burned holes in her skin since she had arrived in Mississippi. Cordelia’s brows furrowed, lips twisting in the way they always did when she didn’t have the answers.

“Then where were you?”

“… I don’t know.”

The table was consumed with silence, no one able to pretend they weren’t listening in to the conversation at hand. Coco glanced around at the table, noting the unwavering stares. Glancing to Emily, she saw her eyes flick between them all, her plate, Cordelia, and back again.

“Probably the jet lag,” the heiress said, “shit makes you forget what your own name is.”

Emily smiled with the rest of them, sending a thankful glance to the woman who squeezed her hand and smiled. The table fell back into idle chatter.

“Hell of a spotlight,” Coco whispered into her glass, eyes flickering around to her fellow witches.

Emily mimicked her movements, “you’re telling me.”

The pair shared a glance and promptly fell into laughter.

“Next time you need to swing by L.A. Beaches are crowded, but the experience is worth it.”

“There’s a tattoo parlor there I wanted to check out,” Emily noted, “Purple Panther. One of my favorite artists works there.”

“We should go and get matching tattoos.”

“What did I miss?” Mallory asked, returning from a trip to the bathroom.

“We’re all going to get matching tattoos.” Coco declared.

“Of what?”

Emily smiled and leaned in, “we should get the triquetra from Charmed.”

“Oooh, yes!” Coco exclaimed, “I loved that show as a kid.”

Mallory’s face twisted in confusion, “Haven’t seen it.”

“We’re binge-watching it,” Coco declared, “tonight.”

“My room?” Emily asked, “I have a TV.”

“No offense, your room is a broom closet.”

“Feels like home,” Emily jested, a genuine smile curling on her lips, “certainly been in it for long enough.”

Coco snorted out a laugh, infecting Mallory and Emily into a fit of giggles. The brunette could feel Cordelia’s eyes on her, a hand going to smooth down the hairs on the back of her neck. She didn’t like it, the feeling of being watched.

“Oh!” Mallory said, “I have a tattoo idea — swords.”

“Swords?”

“For the Three Musketeers!”

Emily gasped as an idea hit her, pulling out her sketchbook and scrawling out an idea.

“What if…”

She finished the crude drawing — a sword with a triquetra behind it. Some of the lines of the triquetra looped around the blade where it was positioned at the end of its point. “… we did both?”

“Both?” Mallory asked.

“Both,” Emily repeated.

“Both is good,” Coco finished, the three falling into giggles once again.

.

.

.

Emily was unsurprised when Cordelia cornered her later in the day. Classes had been canceled for the day, older girls put in charge of amusing the younger ones. The brunette had dozed until 12 o’clock when the cheerful laughing and screeching from the lawn kept her from falling back asleep.

Book in hand, Emily had nearly made it to the greenhouse when Cordelia intercepted her. The blonde woman had been leaning against the door of the rotting shack. Emily wondered how long the headmistress had waited for her out in the sun.

“Walk with me,” was all she said as the brunette got within earshot, her tone filled with bad news. They strolled in silence for a good while. When the playful yelling and screaming was muffled by distance and the trees around the property, Cordelia finally spoke.

“I’ve been to hell myself. It changes a person… for better or worse.”

Emily’s eyes were trained on the ground, navigating over twisting roots and rocks that jutted from the dirt. She spared Cordelia a brief glance. “Which was it? Better or worse?”

“That’s the thing,” Cordelia said, head high and eyes steady on the path ahead of them, “you can never tell which. It’s something only others can see.”

“Is this an intervention or something?”

A smile tugged at the blonde’s lips, “Or something.”

Silence consumed them once more. It became clear that Emily could either talk or they would walk until she did.

“Hell was like a dream,” the brunette relented after a minute or so, “Dreams always feel so real until you wake up. Then, you mourn the reality you lost.”

“Even with nightmares?”

“All I ever have is nightmares.”

Cordelia spared the woman a look. Emily’s eyes were trained on the ground as she took a step over a fallen trunk. Dark circles ringed around her eyes, the purple somehow making the green even brighter. Cordelia realized she had never seen Emily without them. Were her dreams something more? Something that paraded around as sleep when it was really anything but?

Emily’s words were hardly louder than a whisper, “It isn’t the situation I mourn, but the power I have.”

The book in Emily’s hands suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. It was one of her many journals, each page dedicated to the carefully worded and detailed recollections of the visions her mind procured in sleep. The voice said her dreams were something more. Emily feared the implications. She was a stickler for a little thing called proof, however. Spirits can lie and trick just as well as humans could.

Cordelia regarded the girl beside her, “Powers such as what?”

“In hell, I could pull a weapon to me as if I reached out and grabbed it with my own hand. I could conjure flames and move them to my will.”

Her words were like a snarl on her lip, a frustration that plagued her every hour. Then, the snarl faltered and the grief set in. “Everything was so much clearer… simpler.”

The headmistress stopped and placed a hand upon the girl’s shoulder, squeezing it for good measure. Emily wished she hadn’t. It was easy to hold back tears and emotions when you didn’t have to look someone in the eye.

“You went to hell and brought back my dearest friend,” she pressed, hand trailing down Emily’s arm and taking her hand, cupping it in her own, “just because you cannot perform grand acts of magic does not mean you cannot fight.”

Emily looked at Cordelia, searching for something in those brown eyes. Everyone’s eyes were covered in a fog of optimism. It made real-life feel more like a dream than her dreams did. Their gazes never failed to make her shudder. Coco was the only one who did not succumb. Thus, the only one she somewhat trusted. Carefully, Emily pulled her hand away.

“Michael brought back Misty, not me.”

It was something she had said a thousand times since her return. The people here either didn’t listen or didn’t care. Which was worse?

“With your aid.”

For a moment, Emily contemplated telling Cordelia everything. She was so desperate for answers — so desperate to cut through the fog. She was reminded of The Odyssey, Odysseus’s travel to an island where everything seemed perfect. It was so tempting to give in, to be alright with not knowing.

What was Michael?

Why did the voices speak to him?

Why did she understand their words while Misty did not?

“I had a weird dream last night,” she found herself speaking, her silence lasting a little too long, “I know it means something, but I can’t quite place it.”

Cordelia seemed content in her words, a small smile telling Emily that she had chosen the right words… even if they were not the words she had intended to speak. There was trust to be built before Emily could talk to Cordelia about hell.

“Tell me about it,” her Supreme commanded, gently ushering Emily back the way they came.

“I was in a field,” Emily started, an air of distance taking over her voice. When Cordelia looked to her, she was miles away — eyes filled with fog. “You were there just… waiting. For me, I think, but I could be wrong.”

“What happened?” Cordelia asked, “in the dream?”

“You were standing next to a girl. She saw me first… said her name was Nan.”

Cordelia’s gasp was quiet, but still loud enough to draw Emily from the fog. A manicured hand came to her mouth before going to her stomach as if the woman had been punched. Emily was afraid Cordelia might pass out again.

“Nan,” Cordelia said, speaking around a frog in her throat.

The younger witch felt a surge of anxiety. She should have said nothing, kept her mouth shut. Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut? It had been an easy feat until she came to Robichaux.

“She was sweet,” Emily found herself saying, “told me not to worry.”

Cordelia leaned on a nearby tree. Emily wrung her hands, biting her lip and waiting for the woman to say something. Her heart leaped into her chest when she heard the woman sniffle back a tear.

“Did I say something wrong?” Emily asked, heart hammering. Cordelia didn’t answer. Should she get closer? Should she squeeze her arm as Cordelia had done to her many a times? Emily had never been good at consoling. “I’m sorry.”

The woman finally shook her head, the heels of her palm swiping away the few tears that had trailed down her cheeks. “No… no, you’ve brought me a great deal of peace.”

Curiosity always got the best of her.

“Nan…” Emily said, “You recognize her?”

“She used to be a student here… before her untimely death.”

“I’m sorry.”

Cordelia sighed and straightened her shirt, quickly taking back the decorum Emily had managed to peel back. At that moment, Emily realized something darkened in her Supreme. The fog left the brown eyes and hardened into something more tangible, her jaw clenched ever slightly, and the mother-like tone left her voice.

“I’d advise you not to approach her in your dreams again.”

Emily faltered for a moment, too caught up in the change to process the woman’s words.

“Why?”

“For your safety.”

“She hardly seemed dangerous.”

“It is not her I worry about.”

Her lips opened to ask more questions, but Cordelia quickly overtook the conversation. “Tell me about the rest of this dream.”

It was probably best if she didn’t argue. Emily went on describing, glancing at the woman now and again. Cordelia’s eyes lost their dark edge as the tale continued — flying, levitation, conjuring of fire and wind — until they once again held the optimistic fog Emily had become accustomed to.

“And when I wake up,” Emily concluded, “I felt like I was not myself. That my real self lies within these dreams.”

Cordelia simply nodded.

“Dreams are more powerful than we can imagine,” she said, “it is, in short, an insight into our true nature — witch or no witch.”

“Then what is my true nature?” Emily asked, jumping back as a boisterous toddler ran past her, two more hot on her heels. They had made it back to the garden.

Cordelia smiled at her, giving her shoulder one more squeeze before she trailed after the children.

“That is something only you can answer.”

.

.

.

Cordelia paced her room, thoughts writhing like a snake that had worked its way into a knot. Unable to move forward or back, she wondered how long she had until death. Do nothing and she would starve — giving into the circumstances like a beast baring its belly to the knife. Tug too harshly, however, and she would sever her own spine.

“I do hope you have good reason for waking me in the middle of the night,” Myrtle sighed as she entered the room. She carefully closed the door, the only sign of her entrance the dulled click of the lock behind her.

The Supreme ceased her pacing, taking to wringing her hands instead as she came to a stop before the redhead.

“I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.”

“You just put a petulant boy in power,” Myrtle scoffed, “What can be more wrong than that?”

“I did it for the best of the coven.”

Myrtle let out a sigh, unable to keep up her irritation. Tense shoulders and crossed arms relaxed and rested at her sides. “My dear, what good are you if you keep working yourself into a fit of hysterics?”

Cordelia either didn’t hear her or didn’t care to address the topic. Hurrying over to her desk, she pushed papers this way and that until she found what she was looking for.

“Were you able to look into the matter we discussed?”

It took all Myrtle’s power not to roll her eyes.

“Evocation rituals of that nature aren’t exactly common if they exist at all.”

“But they do exist?”

“None that I could find.”

“What if we modified a resurgence spell… combined it with dreams. That’s where her skill shows the most, after all. If we could get into that otherness—”

Cordelia had thrown the idea around with the woman multiple times before they visited Hawthorne. Seeing the aftermath of the Seven Wonders, particularly in the trial of Descensum, had made the Supreme all the more convinced of her path. If Cordelia shared any traits with Fiona, it was her stubbornness.

“I still don’t see how her power, any power, could be trapped inside her,” Myrtle insisted once more, “That family of hers didn’t have a lick of magic in her bones. Her mother has no magical talent whatsoever and don’t get me started on that father of hers.”

“Then why is she here at our school?”

Myrtle spared her a pointed look. Cordelia huffed and leaned on her desk, keeping her eyes locked with her mentor’s.

“Emily’s powers have to originate from somewhere,” she said, shaking her head and averting her gaze for but a moment, “Her grandmother died. Maybe she used the last of her power to protect Emily. Delphi had yet to be disbanded when she passed.”

“If that were the case, she wouldn’t be able to go to hell, dear. Maybe it’s as you said; her magic is tied to the other — dreams, visions, prophecy, the whole shebang.”

Cordelia shook her head, “That doesn’t feel right.”

Myrtle was now the one to pace. The carpet was sure to be filled with holes if the issue loomed over their heads any longer. If Cordelia could not let go of this vision, the coven would be doomed. How many more dead ends did Delia need to hit before she recognized the futility of—

“Why are you so adamant about this?” Myrtle found herself asking, more out of desperation than curiosity.

Cordelia gave her a pointed look and the woman scoffed. “Mallory—”

“Mallory didn’t go to hell.”

“And our dear Emily can’t make a butterfly out of petals. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket. One false step and they all shatter.”

“Then help me eliminate this option,” Cordelia said, voice pleading, “Let's perform a ritual and get our answers before too much time has passed.”

“Alright,” Myrtle relented, “let's pull out the books… and the booze.”

.

.

.

Emily sat on one of the tables in the greenhouse like she was waiting at a doctor’s appointment, picking absentmindedly at the thin layer of paint atop the table. The inner circle of Robichaux stood around her watching Cordelia and Myrtle as they gathered material and passed it out.

Misty sat at Emily’s side, holding her hand and offering reassuring smiles whenever the brunette turned to look at her. Part of e was afraid they were going to kill her… or something worse. Death certainly wasn’t the worst thing the lot of them had experienced.

“We believe there is something blocking out our dear Emily’s powers,” Myrtle explained, placing jars of… something around the table.

“Or she just doesn’t have any,” Madison sighed, obviously wanting to be anywhere else as she studied her nails — she just got a manicure. The others stared at her in annoyance. “What? We’re all thinking it.”

“She saw Nan,” Cordelia spoke. She had been silent the entire time and didn’t even greet Emily when she was escorted into the greenhouse by Myrtle. If her silence was out of concentration or concern, no one could tell.

Queenie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Her arms fell to her sides and all she could do was look between Emily and her Supreme. “She what?”

“I didn’t know who she was,” Emily said, glancing to Misty who held a similar expression to Queenie, “Not until I talked to Cordelia.”

“Is she alright?” Zoe asked. She stood opposite to Misty, carefully watching Cordelia and Myrtle as they prepared. “Did she say anything?”

“Nothing of note.”

“But she did say something,” Queenie said, a silent command in her voice.

“Only that I shouldn’t worry.”

Zoe’s brow furrowed, “worry about what?”

“… I don’t know.”

“If we are able to unlock your powers,” Myrtle said, ignoring the scathing look Cordelia sent her. The redhead still held her doubts. “Perhaps we can find out.”

Her words seemed to motivate the other girls. One by one they fell into place around the table, taking a string as Cordelia handed it to them. Misty and Madison stood at Emily’s left, Queenie and Zoe at her right. Myrtle stood in front of her, a large tomb of a book in her hands as she watched Cordelia work.

“Lay down, my dear,” she told Emily, who hesitantly did as she was told, “We will be delving deep into your subconscious and I’d rather you didn’t wake with a concussion.”

Cordelia came to a stop at Emily’s head. The brunette looked up through her lashes and watched as the woman lit a stick of incense, quickly blowing it out and placing it in a cup of sand. Emily really hoped they wouldn’t have a fire accident. If her hair were to be cut even shorter, she’d look like an egg wearing a toupee.

“Concentrate on the power you had in hell,” She whispered, so low that only Emily could hear her, “Visualize it and keep the sensation in the forefront of your mind.”

Emily felt if she were in some weird baptism, one you’d see on a TLC show about those weird Mormon cults. Shaking her head, she reminded herself to focus. She thought of hell, of that classroom — the fire, the words, the void. Emily felt her eyes become heavy before they closed. She saw Michael, blue eyes only showing a brief moment of alarm as fire raged around him.

Cordelia looked to Myrtle. The redhead began to chant. One by one, the other girls echoed her words. Emily was only slightly aware of their actions, their voices sounding miles away. Finally, Cordelia echoed the words. Her hands cupped over Emily’s face, covering her eyes and centering the spell between her brows, the third eye.

Once again, Emily fell into a slumber. Cordelia prayed that, when she awoke, her questions would be answered.

[defstolemyheart]

ex - kim seungmin, park jinyoung pt i

tags: angst, , jinyoung x fem! reader, brother! seungmin, cheating trope

note: another one I cross posted from my instagram. this was my tribute for Seungmin’s and Jinyoung’s birthday, since they both share birthdate! I was inspired after listening to Stray Kids - EX.

word count: 2.5k

synopsis:

Kim Seungmin prides himself for being extremely patient, and for having the decency to never cuss at anything or anyone, no matter how intense his emotions are.

But Park Jinyoung deserves none of Seungmin’s groomed patience and decency.

Not after what he has done to you.

No.

Park Jinyoung can go fuck himself.

--

A ring. And another. And another one. 

Again and again, the doorbell rings for over a dozen times before Seungmin drags himself out of the comfort of his bed, murmuring annoyance under his morning breath. He takes his time stepping downstairs to the living room, rubbing the remains of sleep off his eyes before glancing at the wooden clock on the TV stand. 7.14 AM.

It’s far too early on a Sunday morning to wake up and irritation begins to grow rapidly under his skin as the doorbell won’t stop ringing. Who would be so cruel and dumb as to visit people’s house this early on a rest day?

“Tsk.” 

Seungmin’s face contorts to disgust as soon as he opens the front door of his house. Any trace of sleepiness in his being disappears as he slams the door shut, only to bounce back as the person on the other side of the door is forcing it to stay open. Their sneaker clad foot lodges between the teak door and the doorframe.

“Fuck off, Jinyoung. My sister doesn’t want to see your face.” Seungmin puts his body against the door, exerting as much force as he could to close it and paying no mind that the person outside, Park Jinyoung, asshole extraordinaire, is yelping in pain.

“First, address me properly, I’m older than you. Second, let my fucking feet go, it fucking hurts. And third, please, please let me talk to y/n, I’m begging you, Seungmin.”

“Ha!” Seungmin scoffs. “Don’t you think you got the order wrong? Beggars can’t be choosers, Jinyoung. You’re not welcomed here. Go home.”

Seungmin pushes the door again, but Jinyoung persists despite yelling out curses in agony as his toes are practically being crushed in his shoes. For a split second, Seungmin considers kicking on Jinyoung’s ankle until it breaks. Or should he just go get his baseball bat and beat the shit out of Jinyoung?

“I’m sorry Seungmin, please, please let me talk to your sister.”

“No! Fuck you! I’m not going to let you see her and just cause her more pain, you asshole!”

“I was wrong, Seungmin. Please, man…”

“You dumped her!” Seungmin’s patience is running thin, much like his strength now. Why couldn’t Jinyoung come after breakfast so that Seungmin would have a lot more energy than he is now? In fact, he could’ve just not come at all. “You. Fucking. Asshole. You threw my sister away, after she forgave you despite knowing you fucking cheated on her. You dumped my kind, loving sister, for some- some dumb ugly bitch.”

Jinyoung groans at Seungmin’s words. “Seungmin, I’ll tell you what really happened. Please let me in.”

“NO! I AM NOT LETTING YOU STEP INTO THIS HOUSE!”

“Please-”

“You hurt her! You fucking hurt her when all she’s ever done is love you.” Jinyoung flinches, all struggles pausing at the younger’s words, and Seungmin feels tears forming on the corners of his eyes. 

His lids squeeze shut in an attempt to barricade the tears in, but it’s a vain effort because they eventually break through and Seungmin weeps as he tries his best to push Jinyoung out.

Call him weak and sissy for crying, but who wouldn’t be, if they were in his shoes? 

Seungmin came home from school early two days ago, one of the off chances that a senior in high school like him rarely gets. 

He was excited because he finally gets to sleep or play games or most likely sleep. Seungmin barely has time to sleep the past six months because of afterschool studies and late night classes, so he was looking forward to diving and snuggling in the soft comforter on his bed. But he threw his plans out the window the moment he opened the door and saw you, his older sister, slumping against the wall by your entryway. 

You were crying- fists pounding merciless hits on your own legs as screams continuously ripped from your throat, curses he had never heard you say are targeted to yourself.

Seungmin flustered and panically asked you what had happened. The sight of Seungmin had you sobbing so mournfully. He scooped you up and carried you to your room, your trembling hands landing hits on his chest as you wanted Seungmin to just let you be. But how could he? 

You were just fine in the morning, all bright smiles when you served him breakfast in place of your mother, who was out with your father, visiting your grandparents for the week. You were laughing as you chased after Seungmin who forgot his bus pass. You were giggling when his eyes widened at the ten thousand won bill you slipped in his hand, a pleasant surprise that had him thanking you with a wink which made you laugh louder.

And just mere hours later, you were all tears, and he was utterly confused but he did the best he could to comfort you. He wrapped you in your soft fuzzy blanket, and hugged you, rocking you back and forth in his hold as you broke down completely, like somebody just tore your heart out. 

And somebody did. 

Fucking Park Jinyoung did.

You cried for hours, with your brother hugging you through the hiccups and the hyperventilations, side effects of weeping your lungs out. He took all the hits you threw to his chest, all the while your trembling lips uttered your boyfriend’s name painfully. 

Seungmin’s heart hurt, not from all the beating, but from witnessing you as your heart shattered to pieces. And he was angry. Even as he rubbed comforting circles on your back, rage pulsed through him in turbulent ripples.

He wanted to curse at Park Jinyoung. 

Curse him and pummel to the floor him for making you cry, because Seungmin could already guess what Park Jinyoung had done to you, to cause you to weep this hard. Though he hoped for it to not be true.

And when you finally calmed down and told him what happened with stuttered words and a shredded voice, confirming his hypothesis, Seungmin wanted to find the man and kill him on the spot. The only thing holding him back is his conscience and the fact that your fragile self needed all the comfort you can get. He couldn’t let you be alone that night because right after the calm, the storm of sadness hit you again and your body shook violently as you cried and Seungmin was scared that if he left, worse things would happen. 

So he stayed up all night that night, and last night he kept waking up every other hour because he was scared you’d break down again.

Now he’s crying, because he’s thoroughly tired, hurt, offended and enraged. His teeth sink in his dry, chapped lips, holding back more tears as he wipes the remaining ones off his eyes. 

“Fuck off, Jinyoung!” He cries out as he pushes on the door with his knee, gritting on the pain erupting from the joint.

Your mother would have fainted if she heard what Seungmin said just now. She’d have a heart attack if she heard what his youngest child has been spouting for the last five minutes since Jinyoung’s arrival.

Never, in the relatively short time he’s been living on earth, has Seungmin ever uttered profanities. It’s something that his friends found to be rather baffling but he really likes about himself.

Kim Seungmin prides himself for being extremely patient, and for having the decency to never cuss at anything or anyone, no matter how intense his emotions are. 

He was raised gently, by both of his parents, and you, his older sister. The three of you would speak to him softly, though stern at crucial moments. Your parents are saints. They never snapped at you and Seungmin, never letting their emotions take control of themselves. 

Their patience is unwavering even when the both of you made the stupidest decisions. Their lips never once uttered curses, not at you, or him, not at anyone. They’d rather stay silent even in times of frustrations, while others would’ve rambled all the names of the animals in the zoo and come up with even more vile terms to say.

And his upbringing really, really shaped Seungmin to be the boy that he is now.

But Park Jinyoung deserves none of Seungmin’s groomed patience and decency.

Not after what he has done to you.

No.

Park Jinyoung can go fuck himself.

Better yet, maybe Seungmin should really grab his baseball bat and beat the older man to a pulp.

Seungmin’s heels dig hard on the cold floor, trying their best to hold his stance as Jinyoung won’t relent. “Just- Seungmin- please, give me five minutes, please.”

“No. Kindly fuck off please, Jinyoung, before I call the police on you.”

Jinyoung’s arm flails into the gap of the door, hand reaching around to grasp on the door handle the younger is holding with his life. Seungmin lands a particularly hard hit on the older’s hand and slams the door once more, positively bruising the older man’s arm. Jinyoung shouts in pain and retracts himself away from the door and Seungmin uses the chance to close and lock the door twice, for safety measure.

He slumps against the creaking wood, chest heaving as he tries to regain composure. But it’s hard to do so when Jinyoung is now banging fervently from the other side.

“If you’re not getting off our porch in two minutes, I am seriously going to call the cops on you, Jinyoung!” Seungmin yells, anger seeping out in every syllable he utters. “And we have CCTV installed on the porch last week. I will show them the tapes and tell them you’re harassing my sister if you won’t leave.”

Seungmin hears Jinyoung groaning, and his steps slowly fading away from the door. Through the small window by the door, Seungmin takes a peek of the world outside. Jinyoung is walking out of their gate, hand roughly ruffling his brown locks out of frustration. The steel gate closes with a loud bang as Jinyoung slams it close after him.

Rude, Seungmin mutters under his breath.

The boy stands up and decides he needs to hydrate his parched throat. All that cursing and screaming really took a toll on his vocal chords, but Seungmin thinks they’re worth the soreness and inability to speak loudly for the next few days.

He gets to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water. He leans on the kitchen counter, closes his eyes and sips his water slowly. His whole body begins to ache, though it was no surprise because he was basically roughhousing the door to keep Jinyoung out. He pats himself in the back for doing such hard work so early on a Sunday morning.

“Good job, Kim Seungmin. You did very well-” He nearly chokes himself when he opens his eyes to you appearing silently next to him. “N-noona. You’re up already?”

It’s been a day since he’s seen you out of your room, and you’re not looking any better than he saw you last when you sat on the living room couch at 5 AM yesterday, crying as you finished a pint of the mint and dark chocolate ice cream he had saved for foreseeable moments of mental breakdowns that commonly plagued high school seniors in the country. 

Seungmin didn’t protest like he’d usually do when you swiped his snacks away. He thought you needed the sugar boost more than him, and probably more, so your brother went out to the convenient store and got you another pint to finish. 

He wondered if all heartbroken people can finish two pints of icecream in one sitting at the crack of dawn. He wondered if he’s heartbroken, will he become like this too? Or will he be the cause of someone’s cries and binge-eating.

He still wonders until now, how much people can hurt each other, as he looks at you.

His eyes study you with palpable worry. Your skin is pallid, with dry, tender patches around your nose, the effect of rubbing it harshly with tissues as you tried to soak snot and tears that pooled around it from hours of crying. Your eyes are bloodshot and tired, apparent from the bags under your eyes. You crack a feeble smile, and he smiles back, just as weak.

“Was that Jinyoung?” you ask hesitantly and Seungmin isn’t quite sure how to answer, the question feels almost rhetorical.

“Yeah. Jinyoung was here. He wanted to see you.” Seungmin sips more of his water, Jinyoung’s name gives a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

Seungmin grabs a clean mug from the upper cabinet and pours you warm water. You take it gratefully, though your hands still tremble and it doesn’t go unnoticed by your brother. You didn’t eat last night. He knows that because after the morning melt-down over ice-cream you asked to be left alone in your room and he hadn’t heard the door opening at all.

“Noona, I’m going to cook breakfast. What do you want?” Seungmin asks, wanting to get Jinyoung off and away from your mind and also genuinely worried for your well being. You shake your head lightly, though and he squints his eyes to you in hard judgement.

“I don’t feel like eating, Min.” you reply weakly.

“If you’re going to cry again, you at least need some energy to do that.” Seungmin huffs a tired sigh and you chuckle sorrowfully from your brother’s words.

“Okay then. Anything but pancakes.” you sip the water slowly, feeling the way it slides down your throat and warming up your stomach. “Your pancakes are horrible.”

“Just because I burnt them twice- nevermind. I’ll make toast and sunny side ups. Do you want bacon? Or sausage?” He makes his way to the fridge and grabs some eggs and bread.

“Sausage.” you sit down on the stool of the kitchen island, watching your brother looking for sausages from the freezer, brows furrowing as he’s considering between blackpepper or cheese sausage. “Do we still have salad-mix, Min? I think I need some vegetables in my system.”

He puts the ingredients he has in his arms on the counter and comes back to the fridge, hand rummaging the shelves for the clear plastic packaging he was sure to have seen last night. “We do. I’ll mix them with the roasted sesame dressing.”

“But you don’t like sesame dressing.” Your eyes widen, perplexed, and Seungmin clicks his tongue at your statement.

“Let me be a good brother for a day, will you?”

You laugh, albeit shaky, and it brings a smile to Seungmin’s previously scowling face. 

“You’ve always been a good brother.” you say and Seungmin beams even more, feeling rather fired up to cook you the best breakfast he can fix.

In his excitement he hums and the kitchen is filled with the sound of him cooking and singing, that he fails to catch your whisper.

“Thank you, Seungmo.”

--

end notes: I feel like this is sort of cringe, but hey, baby steps, right? I’ll post part two tomorrow!

[youmustbestrongernow]

I also think they will stay together in canon. Just a lot of people say it's unrealistic to stay together with your high school love and that probably all skam couples will break up. But I do people who stayed together? And are still happy.

And I truly believe Matteo and David would work through their issues.

But they then argued that some people just fall out of love.

(also I love that plot point in the fic. Just David being like 'yeah ok but we are not broken up')

Oh I decided now that I want to talk to you in general about their love. I apologize.

I also read (yes I read too much stuff that made me sad and I should have stopped and maybe unfollowed because it made me sad, but I liked the person writing that. Yes it's the same 🙈) that (and I kinda forgot which one, I think it was Matteo) one of them loves the other more. And that that's such an unbalanced relationship. And I never and still can't see it that way. They had problems, but went through it and love each other equally. But they said that sooner or later they are too different. Matteo too laid back, too lazy and David too ambitious. That just whene David would pursue a career sooner or later he would have to leave Matteo. To actually achieve a goal in the film industry. And that they would break up then.

oh they absolutely will, easy. thinking about it i think everyone i know who got together in high school are still together, and that was a long time ago, they’ve been through uni and long distance and big life changes and they’re still pretty solid, i only watch druck and og skam but i can see both these couples having a happy future together

and i dunno, high school love can be immature and more infatuation than anything, but both matteo and david have had to grow up quick, and yeah they can be silly and immature but their feelings are real, i truly believe that

it’s true people can fall out of love and actualy that’s a big theme of my next fic, and all my fics really, that love isn’t enough, that it takes hard work and putting the effort in, they can’t rely on that easy instant connection they had, or yeah it’ll never work, but actually i think if anyone knows that, it’s matteo, he’s seen relationships breakdown first hand, he’s seen what happens if you don’t try

maybe i’ve just got m dash just right, i never see stuff like this, not that i want to, but i will argue against that every time. i can see why people see it, they’ve missed so much nuance to matteo’s character, but i don’t see their relationship as imbalanced, although i can see matteo seeing it that way, and actually i can see david having the same thoughts, but it’s bs, they love each other so much and so equally. 

difference is good in a relationship too. but matteo maybe laid back but he isn’t lazy, he has his shit and it exhausts him but he isn’t lazy, at all and i’ve never got that opinion, hell he did so well dragging himself out of his shit and pulling it together, he got his abi, he travelled with david (that shit is exhausting) and he constantly supports and encourages david, and i don’t see that stopping any time soon, i think he’ll always be david’s biggest cheerleader and david needs someone like that, because ambitious sure, but he doubts himself, which is natural, and matteo’s unwavering support is exactly what he needs, they will always balance each other so well. and why do they have to break up for david to make it in the film industry? to be successful david doesn’t need to date someone famous or fancy, relationships are about more than career, they have to be and i think if david gave up matteo for fame and success well that would be sad