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shotorozu · 4 years ago

Note

hellooo,, i saw another tiktok video(and since ur like the elite on writing this type of reqs im requesting to you aha) https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSJYsk4CY/ for shoto, kaminari and monoma (if u write for him) ty 💕

‘bae lol’

(the greenscreen heart, then kiss tiktok trend)

character(s) : todoroki shouto, kaminari denki, monoma neito (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] for monoma reader’s a part of class 1-A, they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific

headcanon type : fluff (x reader)

note(s) : oh, i absolutely love AND hate this trend, it’s mostly bc im single though :,) not like i can get a partner in the pandemic. anyways! i love your thinking, anon <3 also no proofread bc its like,, 2am here </3 will edit later!

»»————-　♡　————-««

todoroki shouto

he’s very aware of your tiktok antics, but out of all of the ones you’ve pulled on him, and asked him to do

he loves this one the most.

because shouto doesn’t have to get the lights scared out of him, and it doesn’t have a chance in ending terribly.

you brisk towards your room, knowing that shouto rests inside— “shou!” you call out to him, and he tilts his head up

“Y/N, tell me it’s not—”

“no, i swear!” you drop next to him on the bed, and you play the video. “this would be fun to do, right?”

he doesn’t say anything at first, but he definitely wants to do it, judging by the fact that he’s replaying the tiktok over and over again.

abruptly standing up, he tugs at your wrist “let’s do it.” he says with determination hinted in his voice

you’d think that he’d get the hang of doing tiktoks because of you but LMAO NO— the greenscreen failed you both multiple times in a span of 40 minutes.

the first take, the heart was blurry, the second take, the kiss was captured seconds before the kiss, and the third take— your phone fell 💀

plus, his movements were a little stiff the first few times, but after the third try— he definitely got the hang of it.

and,, he doesn’t understand tiktok effects, not even the slightest.

on the brighter note, he has more excuses to kiss you so,, it’s a win for him! he won’t get sick of doing any retakes :))

you knew the moment he focused on making the perfect heart, as he firmly pulled you close to kiss you

that, would be the perfect shot there. he almost forgot that there was a camera recording

shouto is seen replaying the filmed tiktok over and over again— and it might’ve looked odd to anyone else

but not to you, definitely. for you, it’s the norm to see him like that.

“do more trends where i could kiss you more.” he pecks you on the lips, before he leaves you be temporarily only to edit the tiktok, ofc

the tiktok itself blows up by a ton, gathering 2M likes, and 5M views, in a surprising amount of time, and you didn’t even notice how he placed his hand on your hip

until the comments pointed it out to him. which shouto replies with “i always do that. you just didn’t seem to notice.” it’s fine bc you do now

the comments consisted of “where can i find a guy like this 💔” “haha that’s so cool *blocks*” “okay but we sEE THOSE HANDS 👀”

nonetheless— please do more trends like that with him. don’t be afraid!

shouto rates the entire ordeal a ♾/10. can and will do it again. oh— and he saves his home and lockscreen as the final outcome from the tiktok. he did a screenshot it, and decides to keep it like that for a very long time

kaminari denki

again— this man is ALWAYS on tiktok, so he’s aware of most of the trends there. but that doesn’t make them any less scarier

but oh wow, he loves this trend. denki was just praying that you’d see it— and ask him to do it with you.

he was grateful that luck was on his side, since he was ecstatic when you skipped over to him— asking him to do a tiktok trend

“oh, what tiktok trend? wait— please tell me it doesn’t involve me breaking up with you for a week so you could listen to drivers licenses—”

“what? no— let me show you” and when you showed him the tiktok, he showed you this cheeky little smirk

“let’s do it! the sooner the better!” he says, and he seems more excited that you 💀

denki’s so enthusiastic, to the point that the first few takes are a total fail— as he makes you fall over your feet, as the result of quickly pulling you onto him for a kiss.

“denki— one of these days, you’re going to shatter my face”

“sorry, sorry!” he grins sheepishly. and it’s a miracle that he didn’t accidentally short circuit!

you guys try again, still persistent in getting at least a decent video, and this time— when he yanked you, causing you almost slip

he tightened his hold on you, a hand pressed against the small of your back and another hand dangerously close to your bank

the kiss is eager, passionate— and he holds you like you’re on the verge of death

and this flusters you because MAMDKWDK what happened to the goofiness 💀 i suppose that’s what happens when you have an eager denki kaminari.

you upload the video, thinking it would only get 5 likes at the very most— but it exceeds your expectations

though most people couldn’t get a clear view of your relationship dynamic with him, denki’s enthusiasm did attract the attention of 2.8M people

and in a good way, because the video did get 800k likes

the comments consisted of “when he caught you when you almost fell :,)” “damn he was EXCITED” “hey, have you told us where you got your boyfriend? i need the link to find someone like him NOW‼️‼️”

the bakusquad fawned over the video weirdly, but it quickly gets overplayed by denki— since that’s all he watched for a week or so 💀

monoma neito

bruh </3 as much as he loves you, you’re going to kill him with pranks one of these days.

he’s totally in on it if HE’S not the one being targeted, but most of the time,, neito’s the subject of your pranks

so he thinks it’s another silly prank, where you make him pick a number between 1-5 and ghost him for that many hours.

but when you show him the video one day, when you guys were chilling in your room— as per usual, he declined :,)

“sorry dear Y/N! but no. that’s my answer”

“but whyyy?? it’s so harmless!”

“the class is going to tease me for being a part with a silly tiktok like that.” and besides,, he’d be a hypocrite for participating in that kind of tiktok with someone from class 1-A.

in reality, he did want to do it. he wasn’t so sure on why he said no— but he does want to show that something so easy isn’t really a bother to him.

“oh- don’t be so sad about it! you know what?” he gently pulls you up, “let’s do it. i don’t care what those silly class 1-A kids will say anymore.”

“what? i thought you said you didn’t want to.”

“have you ever heard of a lie?” he clicks his tongue, but he’s glad that you’re feeling much better than you did 10 seconds ago.

when it comes to it, he’s actually really shy about it. not like a ‘i don’t want to be seen with you!’ more like ‘gosh, how many takes is this going to take? will i be able to kiss them properly?’

“what if i end up accidentally copying their quirk? neito— focus, damnit.” he thinks to himself, brushing the anxious feeling away.

he’s determined enough to stay focused— but man struggled a bit with cooperating with the heart shape.

“neito— not that heart!” “well, you said to make a heart, so i did!”

it takes a few tries for the greenscreen to cooperate, and for you guys to get in sync

and when he finally has to kiss you, he grins at you— a very obvious blush adorning his cheeks, as he smashes his lips with yours

then he remembers that he actually has to break free from you— and forces you guys apart, still trying to play it cool

“wow! i look awesome. only i could kiss you like that, right? i don’t need an answer, because i know it’s true!” he says with that proud laugh of his, but it immediately dissipates after the second replay

neito leaves you be, not only for you to upload the tiktok— but also because he needs to THINK WHAT JUST HAPPENED he’s running laps in his mind rn

you upload the tiktok, not worrying too much about it— as you wanted to let it sit for a while, before checking up on it

however— when you open your phone again, you get bombarded with multiple text messages from kendou, and the other class 1-b students.

“you and monoma went viral!” is what you can sum up about most of the messages, and you have to see for youself— wanting to know if the tiktok really did get 800k likes and 1.9M views in a short amount of time.

spoilers ‼️ — it did

the comments were mostly like “why can i smell the dynamic from a mile away 💔 i want that.” “he’s definitely annoying to everyone but you” “sHEESH the way he smirked before he kissed you 😩✋‼️‼️😔”

monoma flexes on a daily that he did that to your class— but he HATES how class 1-b wrecks havoc on him, by teasing him

in short— he does prefer this more than being scared. and! he didn’t have to verbally ask you for kisses 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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lamatisse · 4 years ago

Photo

not sure how to make an introduction for this tutorial. i might have gone too extra because it’s so long...but this is highly requested and i said i would do this as detailed as possible, so here we go!

adobe photoshop 2018 (ahoy, matey!)

topaz lens effects (just for grain)

srwe (sometimes, but not for this tutorial)

reshade (i dont use a specific preset)

drawing tablet (wacom intuos art)

macbook pro mid-2015 (but bootcamp)

//part one

grab a screenshot from your own lovely screenshot folder! mine is straight from my reshade screenie folder. then crop it how you like it! my original screenshot size is 2560 x 1600, and i almost always cut the background out. this is how i do it:

click color range, then click on the background of your sim. the little screen above will look like that. the background should be white. it’s easier when it’s a fully solid color. those are my settings above. click ok! the selected area will have those teeny tiny marching ants.

click quick selection tool, then select and mask...

i drew over these circled areas using the “add brush” i showed above. use “on black” viewing mode, then make sure that the sim is completely filled black (it’s the unselected area). use shift edge so there wouldn’t be any of the original bg left over. my settings are shown above. then click ok if you’re all done. press delete and then ctrl + D to unselect. the marching ants should be gone. go ahead and crop it!

after cropping, i resize the width of the photo to 1280px! always!

i create a new layer for my background, then add in the psd that i use for my edits. (i hide my psd layer while drawing)

sometimes i also use liquify to edit things like this:

//part two

i use a soft round brush to do everything! it’s literally from adobe, but i changed a few things like the flow jitter in transfer.

red areas are usually where i put the shadows, purple areas are usually where i put the highlights

i usually do the shadows before anything else! it’s pretty simple. using the brush i showed above, i create a new layer.

use the eyedropper tool on her skin, then pick a slightly darker shade. change the blending mode of the layer to multiply, then draw the shadows.

right click on the layer, then select “create clipping mask” to make your life a little bit easier. an arrow will appear beside your layer.

//part three

this is where i draw over the features. let’s look at her face. these are basically what i think it needs:

pay close attention to the imperfections and clean it up! that’s what makes it “sharper” in my opinion. small brushes will do the job! something like this:

define the edges!!! define!! zoom in and take a look!! even though these are tiny little details, it makes a whole lot of difference! the eyedropper tool is your best friend!

i start with a big brush and then i use smaller and smaller ones as i go, which creates the sharpness. go a little darker as well! im not very skillful with my graphic tablet, so i add stuff bit by bit since it tends to become too harsh when i just go for it! im not as talented as some of u here ;-; i just wing it and pray it doesnt look too bad. half of the time im just experimenting since i literally do not know where some shading goes

i wont be showing every single thing, but basically that’s the idea! i’ll add in the stuff i pointed out above and more shadows. sometimes i might turn down the opacity of some layers if they look a bit too much. here’s what we got so far:

i also like adding some face pores using this amazing “skin texture 1″ brush from this brush pack!

//part four

for the highlight layer, i change the blending mode to either overlay or soft light. use a slightly bigger brush for the bigger areas. use the eyedropper tool on her skin, and instead, pick a lighter shade.

let’s start adding highlight to the purple areas i marked above!

try to enhance the highlight on tiny details too such as the eye corners! if you want something more dramatic, create a new layer and do an overlay layer this time! don’t be afraid to add some on the hair, eyes, lips etc.

//part five

ok lets add some not decent looking hair strands. i almost always avoid this part because i literally have 0 idea on how to draw hair. i use the “hair base” brush from the same brush pack i linked to above and also have smoothing on to about 35%! the eyedropper tool is still your best friend! just follow the flow of the hair and i guess you’ll be fine ???

i’ll also fill in the annoying gaps beside her neck

unhide your psd layer and wooowweee

//part six

select all the layers, then click create a new group!

select the new group, then hit ctrl + J or right-click the new group, then click duplicate group

right-click the duplicated group, then click merge group!

i do this so i have a backup of the collapsed layers and can make changes anytime.

i use the sharpen brush on small details i circled below. i used to do stylize > oil paint or topaz clean before, but since the personal action that i use blur things a lot, i try to keep small details visible and sharp.

next is smart sharpen, my settings are below. sometimes i go for a smaller radius, but it looks like this most of the time.

my personal action set consists of this:

duplicate the layer that you just used smart sharpen on, then click lens blur!

below are my lens blur settings

turn the opacity of the layer (that you just put the lens blur on) to 40%

select both layers, right-click then merge layers!

duplicate the layer again (yes, again) then right-click, choose blending options.

uncheck the R located on the “channels” under “advance blending” then click ok.

an icon will appear on that layer!

make sure you have that layer selected, then click the Move tool

then hit your arrow left/right key once or twice! i do it once because i only want a subtle 3d effect! go ahead and merge those layers!

last step is the grain effect. i use topaz labs > topaz lens effects. if you don’t have this, you can also use filter > noise > add noise that photoshop has.

these are my settings:

//final look!

here’s a before and after gif! (here’s the finished edit) i hope everything’s clear! i’m really bad at explaining things (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ

feel free to tag me when you use this tutorial for an edit!! i would like to see it! i hope this helps! ♡＼(￣▽￣)／♡

#ts4 editing tutorial #ts4 tutorial #mine #tut #this took a long time fjghdkfjgh

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gojology · 4 years ago

Text

Clubs Aren’t My Thing. (2/2) (18+)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | woooo, part 2 ! as stated previously, this is heavily inspired by @/mystic-sky on tumblr or skyfelt on ao3. amazing writer, check her out (but this isn’t a direct copy, just same storyline in a way). i’m cleaning up my writing a lot, i think. maybe im getting better as well? probably not but uh i kinda gave up at the end and uh.. hope u enjoy.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Voyeurism To Some Degree, Teasing, Ripped Tights, I didn’t proof read. 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Dom! Gojo x Sub! Female Reader

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 4561

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | In which you finally get fucked by this mysterious, yet freakishly handsome stranger. That’s it, you just get fucked.

The first thing you realize is how cold it is. The wind is working against you, it seems, as you take your first step out of the warm building. Hair blows in every direction, you button up your cardigan, your breath coming out in puffs of smoke. Shivers went down your spine. Not too far behind you, the mysterious man that you had met just an hour ago trailed behind, winking and waving at the girls confidently using him as eye-candy. Long strides, hands shoved into his pockets. Your heart swells as you watch other woman stare flirtatiously as he gestured back at them, before their eyes set on you. He followed you like a duckling, and you’re sure to relish in how powerful it made you feel. He walked like a model, with so much confidence. He didn’t appear as cold, his cheeks were flush and he reeked of fruity sugary alcohol, a playful grin still stubbornly on his face, 5 minutes later. “Uber should be coming soon... I think, too lazy to check. You cold?” he slurred huskily. You nod. For a one night stand, he was strangely kind to you. He doesn’t say anything after that, so you opt to listen to the life around you. The clicking of high heels, the chatter, the drunken rants. “Aw, come here.” He didn’t give you much of a choice, though. Pulling you in to his chest, without warning. Your first instinct is to scream bloody murder, but he’s so warm, and you definitely need it. One loose arm over your figure, his unoccupied arm dangled dangerously close to your butt. Taking in a deep breath, anticipating the feeling of being so scandalous in public, he chuckles breathily, almost like a taunt. You can feel the rumble in his chest as he cleared his throat. You stare up at him, confused as to why you’re not feeling anything in your lower regions, before you realize what he was doing. Rubbing your head with the once unoccupied hand, his fingers weaved into your hair as he sniffled. Something about the interaction was strangely intimate, but you don’t dare to say a word. You inhale sharply, rubbing your face into his chest. You want to get closer, deep in bliss as he seemed to return the want back. You want to close any remaining space between the two of you, but making the first move was scary. He yawns, and this triggers you to yawn as well. It was probably well past 1 AM by now, and you were tired. You couldn’t hear much around you other then the honk of the growing sea of cars, some people just starting their night, and the others ending it. “Oh shit. Our Uber’s here.” he mutters under his breath, pushing you out of his chest gently. Whining, you try to push yourself back into his arms, he takes a quick glance down at you, traces of a faint lukewarm smile playing upon his lips. Almost like he’s saying, “Are you kidding me right now?” before taking a hold of your hand. Fingers intertwining as if they were meant to be together, you gawk down at your hands, before looking back up at him. There were a few issues, one, you had no idea if this man had an intent to kidnap you. Second, you didn’t know what the Uber looked like, and you’re too embarrassed to ask. Third, he was holding your hand with no hesitation, and the feeling in your chest was indescribable. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but you hope that it’s something along the lines of what you’re thinking. Your eyes briefly flickering over his jawline as you pondered to yourself, but what you do know is that you’re being dragged towards the presumed Uber. It’s sleek, and black, with a glossy finish, you note. “Yo chill, I’m not gonna kidnap you, missy.” chuckling, examining your doubtful, yet frightened expression. He swung open the car door carelessly. “After you, m’lady.” he adds, bowing and straightening, his chin up. “Thank you, Sir Mysterious.” you give him a small smile before sliding into the sleek, comfortable seats. His eyebrow raised, he looked at you. “That’s a first.” “It’s also a shit nickname, maybe that’s why you’ve never heard it.” you suggested. “I like it. Has a nice ring to it.” a lukewarm smile played at his glossy lips. The sly smile wipes clean off your face, he laughs at you while sliding into his designated seat, as if he owned the car. Right. You were in a car, and it would be best for you to study your surroundings, just to make sure you weren’t being kidnapped. The car was obviously expensive, black leather reclining seats, and a sweet offering of warmth against the chill of the midnight air. A coffee cup idly stood in the cup holder, the driver taking a quick sip and turning his body to look at you two. Air fresheners and various trinkets dangled from the rear-view mirror, swinging back and forth “A couple, eh? You wanna go to this address?” The driver whipped his phone out, an address in black, bold text stood out. “Yep.” the man says confidently. Opening your mouth to speak, you try to inform the driver that he wasn’t your boyfriend, before your supposed boyfriend covers your mouth with his hand as soon as the driver repositioned towards the steering wheel. You realize that his other hand is on your thigh, stroking your skin. This newfound position was at the very least, terrifying. There was another person in the vehicle, for starters, and you weren’t exactly the quiet type when it came to, well, anything in general. Cold, large calloused hands considerately caressed your thigh, and your breathing hitches. His other arm against his side, but you know his fingers are itching to feel you all over. You want to moan, but the driver’s presence is enough to tell you that it would be stupid. Fingers drawing shapes, words, anything would repeatedly loop on the sensitive skin just barely. He was definitely teasing you, but you couldn’t quite fight back. “Why don’t you be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” he whispers, you anticipate the driver to look back at the two of you, and to throw both of you off the car, but he does no such thing. Feebly, you raise your arm up, ignoring the flirtatious request. Swatting his hand away in a desperate attempt to get him to stop before it got out of hand, but he’s persistent. It’s getting even more difficult to breathe quietly now, your body getting hotter and hotter and hotter. It doesn’t take long for a noise to slip out from your lips that you can’t quite shut up, and the driver turns to look at you. “So precious.” the white haired man mouths to you before quickly turning his head to look at the window, humming to himself, still caressing your thigh. “Ma’am? Are you okay?” About to respond, the white haired man scooched closer to you. His clothed leg now rubbing your bare skin. He whistles innocently in the opposite direction before skimming his hand against your inner thigh, and you almost shriek. Instead, you let out a pathetic gasp. Panning his gaze over to you, he gives you a sly, playful smirk, before looking away again. Drawing more shapes onto your skin, he hums. It was so hard to focus, or even remember the words the driver had said literally just a minute ago. You feel yourself shiver, almost losing yourself entirely to his hands before shakily responding to the driver, praying to any divine figure in the skies that you would be coherent. “Y-yeah. Just, spilled water on m-my clothes.” you reply, barely audible. The driver’s eyes stared back at yours, concern etched onto his features, before sighing. Tension grew inside of you. “Alright, if you need anything, just ask, okay ma’am?” Trying to respond, no sound comes out of your mouth, and the reason dawns on you. Taking a quick look down, the man’s digits were now fumbling with your panties, brushing against your wetness. It takes a moment for you to register in your brain, you thank every entity possible for preventing the inevitable slew of noises you’d make. Waves of need crashing over your body. You hungrily stare at him, hoping that he’d be kind enough to stop and save it for later. Circling your entrance through the now utterly soaked panties, he dips his finger in, just enough so you could feel the slight pressure against your sensitive skin. He’s fucking taunting you again. Driver be damned, you needed him. Opening your legs more, you confidently peer at him, inviting him to explore your body even more. His fingers are drumming against the leather surface, the other hand had retreated back to your thigh, boldly looking at you back. “No. I thought you didn’t want to, what’s with the change of thought?” he mouths, stifling a chuckle and a smug tone, already knowing what you were going to ask. Bewildered, you gape at him before shaking your head curtly, making sure you’re staring daggers at his stupidly arrogant face. “Stop fucking playing with me then!” “You’re too cute.” “Fine then.” closing your legs, you stare out the window, your chin sitting on the palm of your hand. Flickering blurry lights passing by quickly. Looking at your reflection, you steal a quick glance at the flirtatious bastard. “If you’re so angry, why can’t you look away from me for 1 second?” he whispers proudly. You can’t think of a snarky remark, so you huff and look back at the window defeatedly. What a cocky arrogant little- Your bruised pride burning into ashes, you grunt in response before the car abruptly halts to its stop. Were you two too loud? “What are you two so scared for? Freezing up like a deer in headlights, we’re at your destination.” the driver said, twisting his head around, his eyebrow slightly raised. “Oh, yeah, thanks.” That was way too close to comfort, and you’re resisting the urge of banging on his chest for being so overly confident in his endeavors. You open the car door, cursing under your breath, swinging your legs out and lightly stepping out. First thing you realize in the new destination? This guy was obviously loaded. In front of you were a bunch of condos, and it was bound to cost a lot. Modern architecture was all you could see, wide windows and balconies in every corner. Suddenly, you’re self conscious about your outfit, were you too poorly dressed? The man hums, placing his hand on your shoulder. Plant life was meticulously placed in such a beautiful manner that you promise yourself that you would search up his name- if you ever got it, on the Forbes lists. “Like what you see?” Snapping out of it, you look back at him, and you nod, still astounded by his presumed riches. “Yeah? Lets go up missy, I got more to show, in more ways then one.” ‧₊˚✩彡. Standing in front of his door, you realize how quiet and still the atmosphere is. He fumbles with his keys, muttering to himself, and you can’t help but wonder if you’re about to have sex with some celebrity. Not knowing how to start conversation, you clear your throat. “You ever going to tell me your name?” “Aw, the little baby still wants my name.” he cooed “Call me Gojo.” he adds nonchalantly. “(Y/N).” you reply, ecstatic. That wasn’t too hard, but you wonder why he didn’t just give up his name to you at the club earlier. Perhaps he didn’t think he was going to take you back? “Aw, sugar. You scared?” Gojo says, looking you up and down. Well, that’s what you assumed. He still had his glasses on. “No I’m not, who said that?” “Look at your legs, missy.” he cheekily replies. Looking down, you realize you’re violently shaking, and you didn’t even realize it. “...Maybe.” you say coyly. He breathily chuckles, finally opening the door with the right key. You’re surprised by the presence of such a spotless place, a large, plush black leather couch was in one corner, the other, an island. Amazingly large windows replaced what would usually be the walls, and you could see the extent of the city life from where you’re standing. “Slip your shoes off girly, sandals on the left. Can I offer you something?” Gojo questions you, walking over to the island. “...I’m not much of a drinker.” you reply, still standing in the doorway. You were honestly more interested in him then the small talk. “Baby, sit down. Don’t you wanna see me up close?” he pats the cushioned island seats, and you sheepishly walk over. “I have apple juice too. If that’s more your vibe.” you watched him swirl some melting ice cubes around in a glass of water with a spoon. “I’m not 12.” you retort, maybe the guy wasn’t a celebrity. No famous guy has apple juice in the fridge, rather then fancy champagne and wine. Gojo snickers, “Hey, I’m not 12 either, I’m nearing my fucking 30′s but I can never reject a good box of apple juice, plus, I teach a group of kiddos that drink this shit like it’s fine wine.” You pause, this guy was NEAR 30? He certainly didn’t look the age, and second of all, he bought apple juice just for the kids he taught? That was surprisingly sweet, but that didn’t explain the richness. “You’re a teacher?” you nod as he hands you a chilled box of apple juice. “Uh, yeah.” he scratches the back of his neck. “International Japanese teacher, sometimes I just teach in Japan as well. It pays good.” “No way you actually live here. Is this your friends place?” He laughs loudly, “So backhanded, and sassy! Nah, this is my place. As I said, job pays well. Feel free to stop by for a good fucking.” he says whilst pouring liquor into his glass cup. “You’re really confident in your abilities of fucking people.” you sarcastically note aloud as he slides into the comfortable tall stool next to you, drink in hand. “Hm, you weren’t saying that when I was touching you in that car, brat. How strange.” sipping his beverage lightly. Your mouth zipped shut, and he laughs again. “Aw, don’t go all awkward on me.” his once vacant hand now rubbing your shoulder. Setting down his drink, taking off his glasses. He doesn’t give you much time to admire his eyes, but what you can see is an almost aquamarine color, flecks of darker blue sprinkled throughout. So brilliantly colored it didn’t look real. Before you realize it, he leans closer into your neck, suckling your skin and lightly nibbling. His breath fanning over your delicate skin, you can’t even hold back, gasping a little as his hands played with the hem of your cardigan, tugging at it playfully. You can’t even formulate words. He was undeniably good, his suckling now gradually getting more harsher and harsher, and you dread coming back to your friends place, neck full of hickeys, you’d be nudged for whoever did that to you for the rest of your life. He grunts, standing up in the little space between what was his stool and yours, even on such a surprisingly tall stool he still towered over you. He has to slightly crouch before his eyes is at the level of your neck, hungrily crashing back down. “G-Gojo!” you squeaked, struggling to do much of anything. You’re limp on the stool, slumped and burning up. Your skin was ridiculously hot. “Hmmm?” he smiles into your neck, pausing momentarily, you can feel him exhale harshly on your skin. You look him up and down, the sexual tension between the two of you was prominent, and so was the tent in his pants. You feel a whine creep up towards your throat, now realizing just how wet you are. Ignoring this, you gesture to your clothes. The layers were sticking to you, and you never wanted anything more then to just get the sex started. “...Hot.” is all you can muster pathetically. “What was, baby?” he coos at you. “Me.” shrugging off your cardigan the best you can, you let out a subtle whine, the weird feeling growing between your legs. “Yes, we both know you’re hot.” tipping your chin upwards to look at him, he smiles. “use your words.” “Clothes.. Off.” you pant, obviously sick and tired of the stupid sexual tension and the teasing. “Full sentence, girly.” he repeats, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You inhale his scent, smelling of expensive cologne and lingering sickeningly sweet alcohol. Looking up at him, but averting your gaze as soon as you saw those incredible eyes once again. “Look at me.” he orders. You peer up at him, swallowing. “P-please, take my clothes off.” you say politely. “All it took was a few hickeys? You really are a pretty kitty.” he smiles, kissing your forehead. “Get down.” You nod obediently, getting off the stool and looking back up at him, anticipating his next step. He bends down, swooping you up bridal style. One arm under your legs, gripped firmly onto the skin, the other under your waist. Your arms instinctively and rather slackly around his shoulders. You expect something, a kiss, anything, but all Gojo does is walk down an endless hallway full of doors. You lean closer into him while pouting, hoping that’ll catch his attention, but he doesn’t say a word. “Where are we going?” you finally ask, growing needy. “Bedroom. I’m not fucking on the couch. Pretty princesses deserve to be nice and comfy.” he replies back, fidgeting with the door knob. For a few seconds, all you can hear is how rapidly your heart is beating inside your chest, the rustling of clothes brushing against one another, and then the feeling sets in again. You could very well be fucking someone that was out of your league. He breathes a sigh of relief, and before you have the time to fully study his bedroom, he throws you off of the bed with a grunt. Gojo’s toned forearms by your side, you were obviously trapped. You can see his chain just dangle barely swing back and forth on the tip of your nose, his lips curled into a lukewarm smile. “You were so cheeky with me earlier, where’d she go?” stroking the corner of your lips. He doesn’t give you the time to respond, instead locking lips with you and rolling over to be on your side. It starts off small and soft first, but it gradually grew hot. The fluttering in your chest only intensified. Tongues exploring every inch of one another’s mouth, you swear you can taste mint. The anxiety melted off of you like wax, and the only thing he could focus on was how soft you felt against his lips. Delightfully experienced enough for it to be good, but not better then him. The smell of him was stronger now, and you’re sure you won’t be able to leave without some of it remaining on your clothes. Regardless, it was an addicting smell. Something you needed to come back to. Furiously exhaling through both of your noses, he finally lets go. Dazed, your whole body tingles. You want him to claim you all as your own, hungrily staring at him for more. Both of you were radiating heat. The kissing left little for thought, and all you can think about is kissing him once again. It seemed that the more you spent with him, the more demand you had for his attention. “Such cute noises. Makes me want to ravish you more.” Gojo tenderly pulls you in, claiming your mouth as his once again. Fumbling with your cardigan, yanking it off of your body. Large, hot hands brushing against your now semi-exposed skin, and you know he wants more. His hands brushed against your butt under your skirt, and you shiver just a bit. Pulling out from the kiss, he looks at you, panting heavily. “So beautiful.” he murmurs, brushing his thumb against your swollen lips. “You wanna know why they call me the best?” You nod, his arm snakes above your waist, forcefully flipping you down head first into the blankets. Just now realizing that all your clothes are no where to be found, presumably on the floor, you shiver at the cold air conditioner blowing against you. That is, besides your skirts and your tights. “On your arms, baby. Knees too.” he instructs, patting your butt. You obey, a warmth rushing to your cheeks again. He had you like a dog being trained by it’s owner, following their every order. “Good girl.” he says under his breath. You’re about to tell him that you’re still wearing tights, about to open your mouth, you heard a loud rip disturb the peaceful atmosphere, and a cold exposure to your lower regions. You squeal, digging your face into the covers, and he chuckles again. “Oh baby. You were begging for this, I can see why now.” you felt him drag his fingers against your panties, and you whimper. “So impatient for my touch, aren’t you kitty? You’ll have to wait.” About to complain, you look back at him before you find him shoving you down, sitting on your knees now, your nipples hardened in the air, but you want to be stimulated else where. “Be patient, and you’ll be rewarded, no complaining.” “But-” he cuts you off. “Don’t fucking talk over me, you got that?” “...Yes sir.” His eyes soften, and he gives you a soft kiss on the forehead before his hands brushed against your nipples, rubbing them with his thumb. Rolling the sensitive bud, you loudly moan, trying to express that you wanted more. “God, you’re so cute.” he says under his breath, still rubbing and now slightly pulling them. Placing his mouth upon the abused buds, you stifle a cry out. Gently suckling, he used his other hand to play with the other attention-starved nipple mildly. You whine out again, beginning to melt under his stupidly experienced hands and mouth. The attention was nice, but you needed it some place else, his eyes looked up at you, his wet mouth still suckling your breast. Taking his wet mouth off your nipple, he looked at you, mischief still evident on his face. “You like that?” he says, cocking his head to his side. “I-If I say anything, It’ll fill your stupid ego.” you breathed. “And if you don’t say anything I’m not doing shit.” his hand now rubbing your butt. “You ripped my tights!” you spat back. “I’ll pay for it and more, no bother babygirl. Now tell me what I want to hear.” He obviously wasn’t lying, he could probably turn any girl into putty if he just wanted to, and here you were, in the palm of his hand. “...Please touch me more.” you uttered shamelessly. “Good girl. On your back, spread those pretty little legs for me too, why don’t you?” Lying down on the plush mattress and warm pillows, you stare at the ceilings. You peered at him starting where he left off. Giving you faint, yet chaste kisses on your breasts, trailing kisses down your stomach. “Aw, your panties are absolutely fucking soaked baby, how cute.” he cooed, parting the soaked fabric to the side. You look at him undress thoughtlessly, but you’re sure he’s done this several times. He did it with little to no effort, but that would mean that you’re not special. It would be useless to think about right now, you were gonna have the dicking of your lifetime anyway, it was called a one night-stand for a reason. The mountain of clothes grew taller. Growing impatient, you look up to where he was once standing, only to find him already in between your legs. “So pretty.” Gojo purred, circling your entrance just as he had done previously in the car ride, you squeak. “So lucky this is all mine.” Gojo had figured he could add, “for the night.” but that strangely felt wrong. He dips his fingers into your walls, and you cry out. Wrapping around his digits, sobbing, this wasn’t enough to satisfy your cravings. “You want more?” he huskily said, a tone of playfulness still rampant. “Yes! Please, just fuck me!” you croaked, already damn near about to cum from the teasing. “That’s my girl.” he whispered under his breath, slipping off boxers you didn’t even realize were there in the first place. He doesn’t give you a chance to see his full length, instead ramming inside of you. You inhale sharply at the sudden disruption. The throbbing evaporated into thin air, and you’re desperately grabbing at the sheets to steady yourself. Sweaty and sticky skin slapping against each other echoed throughout the room, along with your moans and his grunts. You could feel him reaching heights that you would never be able to do with the dildos you had at your house, much less your fingers. One hand on your waist to steady your flailing body, the other, roughly groping your breast. You were finding it hard to think, pleasure and euphoria filling your senses. Unknowingly, you wrap yourself around Gojo even harder then before. “Fuck, baby, I can barely pull out.” he panted. “you’re too tight.” You can’t even begin to respond, still deep in your state of pleasure, instead responding incoherently with a jumble of delicate moans and gasps in between. “C-cum!” “Hm? Repeat that princess?” he soothed. You’re unable to respond again, instead you try to lift your head up, and Gojo feels himself throb again, watching your eyes flutter back. It’s not until it’s too late, realizing a hot fluid flow down your holes. He pulls out, he himself ejaculating on your stomach. Both muscles stretched taut, you both laid on the bedsheets, sweating and panting. “Fuck, I haven’t had a girl like you in a while.” he says, turning his head to look at you. Strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “R-Really?” he kissed your forehead, tipping your chin with his long fingers. “Yes, really. I’m so lucky I spotted such a pretty little thing at a club.” The sun was starting to rise, you note, and you realize just how perfect his body is with the new light. A sudden warmth on your cheeks, you look down, still panting. “Clubs aren’t my thing.” you said breathlessly. “Fuck. It’s 5 AM” he says, eyes now glued to his phone, ruffling his white hair. “I’ll go-” “No, here, lets take a shower with each other, and then we sleep.” “Okay.” you responded, hoping to not make conversation, still believing that he was a celebrity. He handed you his phone, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I get your number?” “...Why?” you questioned. “...To call you back again, duh.” he teases, rubbing your head. No way, he wanted you back at his house? You? Not wanting to fuck up your chances, you nod, something was growing inside of you, and you weren’t quite sure what it was, but you knew he made you feel special.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #jjk headcanons #gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #dom gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojou x you #fanfic #fic #anime fic #im learning how to write well ok

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noritoshiikamo · 4 years ago

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this is how you fall in love

pairing: kuroo tetsuroo + fem!oc genre: friends into lovers fluff with slight suggestive end tags//warning: nothing major // slight suggestive at the end if you squint enough note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. o wow look ive been posting back to back, ive been writing nonstop lately watch me ghost my stories in few weeks guys my brain = rotting, plus lately ive been feeling emotionally abuseddrained so i need something fluffy

listen to this is how you fall in love by jeremy zucker + chelsea cutler for maximum feels

“you’re a lifesaver.”

kuroo huffed, eyes rolling back with a small laugh as he unlaced his sneakers and slipped the room slipper on. it was odd to see the gymnasium without any nets or balls sprawled around. the gym has been closed for a week now in preparation for the upcoming open school event and currently under the art club’s jurisdiction. under her jurisdiction with her canvases and paints and it pained him to see her ruining his sacred place. he carried two plastic bags and holding two boba teas in the same hand. he wasn’t sure which one she was more excited for; the boba, the paints she made him ran to an art supply shop or him. she reached out, the bobas in his hand exchanged as she settled it on the floor, and she squealed at the sight of the plastic bag. he frowned.

yup, not him.

tins of different colors of paint that she ran out mid painting that she forgot to buy had her dialing his number and now it’s all here. all thanks to kuroo tetsuro. she grimaced at the price tags; it was costly than her usual one. usually, she would’ve gotten her supplies online, but desperate measure calls for desperate solution. she could always claim her expenses with the club. typical kuroo, she huffed. he always preached about getting the best, not minding the price tags but she’ll be the victim of his nonstop complaining that he’s getting broke every single day. she tucked a stray hair back and mentally counted how much she owed the man as she arranged the tins on the table.

kuroo noticed that look; same look she had when they are in the math class and he clicked his tongue, “tch, you’re not paying.”

“i’m reimbursing you with the club money,” she shook her head and reached for her bag, “please kuroo, it’s so expensive.”

he reached for her wrist and she dropped the tote bag as he invaded her space. kuroo rested the palm of her hand right above his heart, his own around the waist and another under her chin as he tilted her chin up. his heartbeat was erratic, and she flushed. “it’s okay,” he said, softly. her lips formed into a small pout and he fought the urge to just kiss her.

their dynamic is something even kenma couldn’t figure it out.

they weren’t exactly dating. they are friends, close friends, and classmates. it has always been him, her and occasionally yaku; creating the chaotic duo/trio of class 5. they both played volleyballs, both captains while he’s the middle blocker, she’s their female team’s setter. they knew a lot of each other’s friends from other schools; he was the reason why she dated akaashi keiji from the first place. it was selfish of kuroo to admit to bokuto a month after they started dating that he disliked the idea of them together. typical kuroo is no longer snarky, he felt lost, felt like he was losing his other half. so, he confided to his close friend, the simpleton ace.

“you didn’t make any moves, kuroo, you can’t blame them.”

bokuto noted as them both stared at the two setters, playing around the fallen cherry blossoms. bokuto never seen akaashi smiled that much and kuroo could only wished that she smiled the same way to him. kuroo stared at the half bitten onigiri he’d been holding, suddenly every bite he took tasted bitter. every trace of akaashi on her gave him bitter taste. she liked wearing akaashi’s jersey; kuroo longed to see her in his own numbered jersey; she’s his number one after all. her own jersey number is as same as akaashi. it’s not like kuroo could hate anything he did; he treated her well. akaashi was a perfect boyfriend and everyone knew. that’s why kuroo hates him; he gave him no reason to hate the dude. it didn’t last long however, they drifted apart 6 months later, sending her to kuroo’s doorstep soaked in rain.

he stared at her soaked figure with no thoughts in mind.

“he dumped me,” she said, voice hoarse and shivering.

he was alone and was about to leave for kenma’s, but he couldn’t leave her alone. dropping his keys on the small table by the door, he threw his jacket back in the closet. “come in,” he whispered, pulling her figure in. dropping her bag on the floor, she clutched on his sleeves as she kicked off her soaking shoes. “i’m sorry, my mom isn’t home and i can’t find my keys,” she was a blabbering mess and he hushed her. he left her for a few minutes, coming back with a steaming towel and a clean shirt and pants. “it’s from the dryer. you can borrow my sister’s clothes,” grabbing her hands, they ran upstairs where he took her to the bathroom. she was too quiet, so he called her name. when she looked up to him, her eyes were red. she was no longer crying, more confused and upset. her cheeks flushed and he could see her teeth chattering. he wished nothing but to throw his fist at the man. finally, he got a reason to square up the stoic man; he always hates the way nothing could riled up akaashi.

“he’s stupid for doing you like this.”

she shook her head, “it’s nobody’s fault.”

“then stop blaming yourself,” he ruffled her hair, a small smile appeared from the corner of her lips as she watched him disappeared closing the door behind him. he left her with the hot water running, urgently grabbing the mop and bucket from the kitchen, and wiping the trail of her soaked feet has left before it could ruin the wooden floor.

cant come over, busy, ill tell u later

kuroo texted kenma. the pudding head left him on read.

they spend the night together, sitting on the floor with pillows pilling against the end of the bed as they sat in arms. he had his tv opened to one of the late-night game show. they sat in silence, her head rested on his shoulder and her lips pressed into a tiny line. at the corner of his eyes, he could see her phone’s notifications blaring despite being on mute. the number isn’t saved but it was familiar. she deleted his number already, probably out of rage, but it’s a good step.

tell me where you want me to drop your stuff im sorry i hope youre okay y/n? i heard it was storming did you make it back home? give me a call im calling you okay?

just as like what the message stated, the unknown number called her. it startled her which startled him too. she stared down on the screen, he noticed the grip on the phone and wondered how the phone did not break yet. “can you answer it for me?” she said, holding the phone out to the black-haired man. shocked, he took the phone and pressed the green button. he pressed the phone to his ear and heard her name being called.

“hey man,” kuroo cleared his throat, “listen-”

“she’s with you?” the voice- akaashi asked.

looking down on the girl who was pretending to not have any interest in the call at all, eyes focused on the gameshow, kuroo sighed.

“she is. listen, i think you should leave her alone.”

“kuroo, i know about your feelings. for her. bokuto-san told me about it. if you think that this is the proper way to get her when she’s vulne-”

kuroo bit the inside of his cheeks. he was offended that akaashi dared to call him out like that. “so, what? she made her pick,” the girl turned to face him, brows up wondering what they are talking about.

“that’s low, even for you, kuroo-san.”

their eyes met. he didn’t even realize how deep the cut on his palm where he had balled his fingers into a fist until she touched it. he calmed down. “you hurt her. you have no right to say what’s low or not. be a bigger man, leave her alone,” he muttered flatly, before ending the call. they didn’t break eye contact until he realized what he had done.

“i-i shouldn’t have done that.”

she shook her head, “stop blaming yourself,” a small smile on her face.

that was 3 months ago.

kuroo had made moving on easy for her. akaashi and her remained friendly, although kuroo noticed that she tended to avoid him when possible. the breakup was indeed mutual, but merely on the fact that he lost feelings. akaashi had fallen out of love with her and in love with some other girl but who was she to judge when she was falling in love with the rooster head in silence. they still hang out with bokuto and akaashi but rarely with the latter.

she made him apologized to the fukurodani’s setter too and they remained on friendly term, still practiced together whenever they have training camps together where akaashi had admitted one training night that kuroo and her looks better together. kuroo didn’t say anything, not that he knew what to reply to that (his mind scream fuck yeah we do) but shrugged at his statement. “i guess dating her made you less pain in the ass, kuroo-san,” akaashi joked as they resumed the game.

kuroo was pulled back to reality when he felt his lips brushed against something. his eyes widened when he realized what it was. a quick kiss from her. he blinked frantically, trying to comprehend what had just happened which caused the girl to laugh. “did you just?” he asked confused by what had just happened which she nodded. she bit her bottom lip to hold herself from bursting into a laugh. “god, you should see your face. it’s so stupid. and every girl called you the playboy captain huh?”

he huffed and rolled his eyes, “i am not. i’ve been loyal to one girl for many years now, she is the one who hasn’t notice me at all,” he faked his pout, refused to look her directly in the eyes, praying that she wouldn’t notice his reddening cheeks.

“she must’ve been so stupid,” she teased, her nose rubbing gently against his jawline as she rested her figure against his closer. his chin rested against her head.

“she is,” he looked down on her, his arms around her waist tighter, “i don’t think she knows this but if she leaves me, i think i’ll be so broken inside. is it selfish to say that?” a small frown appeared on her face.

“i don’t think she ever talked about leaving you.”

a grin grew on his face, “so you know who i’m talking about huh?” she fell into his trap. she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out, calling him stupid. he studied her face, his grin softened into what yaku and his volleyball team called the kuroo is stupidly in love with y/n but refused to admit face. his fingers ran into her hair which she had been growing out in few months down to her shoulder because she thinks that he likes her better that way. the way she tried to subtly put on make up to look better that the other girls who’s shamelessly flirting with him. she was too stupid to realize that he had loved her beyond that.

he loves the rough pads on her hands from holding her paintbrushes and volleyball. he loves that she works hard for everything she’s doing be it studying, volleyball or arts, she would put her blood, sweat and tears into it. he loves that she would wait for him to buy lunch so they can eat together in class. he would buy her a box of milk which she insisted that she doesn’t need too; but he convinced it would be good for her. he wants the best for her.

he loves that all the missing clothes he’s complaining about is in the back of her closet or on her. his cream hoodie hanging behind her closet door, his random pile of t-shirts in a basket on the floor of her closet that he liked to left beside the mix pile of her shoes and his one big ass nike shoes. her room isn’t messy, it is because she kept the messiness in her closet. she also like to keep random stuff of him too. the one medal he won from a science fair hung on the headboard of her bed, the misshapen looking hand wax sculpture of their hands intertwined from a funfair where she rested a purikura of them on it and a lucky bamboo plant he gave on her birthday to compromise on the no gift rule.

“for luck,” he grinned.

unlike hers, he kept her item neatly in his drawer. your spare shirts that he borrowed and refused to return, extra towel and her toiletries, some of her drawing blocks and a small cat shaped pouch where she kept her allergies medication. mostly hidden because his annoying friends come over often and would accidentally talk about it in front of his grandparents. but, on his bedside table, he has a cup of pencils by the bed where he collected the art supplies she left behind, random markers and paintbrushes, a clay sculpture of a trinket plate she made from art club (she carved a tiny letter k in the corner beside the obvious looking genitalia drawing) and a fake plant which she was sure he will not be able to kill it.

he loves it when she wore his jersey. he lost his mind when he found out that her current season number is the same as his. he’s in love. the first time he saw her in his jersey, the number one jersey on her body was during their training. he lost concentration; mouth hung a bit. he got so flustered that he let lev served the ball straight to his head. usually, lev would be dead by now, but he doesn’t mind. his nose bled but to see her kneel beside him, clutching on his own shirt screaming how stupid he is, wiping the blood away with towel, he could only say how pretty she looked. all his teammates were startled, her included. she clutched on his collar angrily; her knees stung from when she leaped down to his side, but this idiot could only smile at her with a bloody nose. “you are fucking idiot,” she cried out angrily, pushing him away before throwing the towel on his face leaving the pleased third year laying on the floor.

he loves the way she would find a way to impress him, be it as ridiculous as the halloween costume idea she had where they’ll go as the front and end of a horse or as serious as the submitted college application to the same university he had gotten into. “you are not getting rid of me that easily, tetsu,” the evil look on her face as she clicked the submit button send shivers down his spine.

“if you leave, i think i’ll cry,” he confessed, his smile slowly died.

“kuroo tetsuro is going to cry after me?” she teased. he nodded eagerly. “does kuroo tetsuro realized that we are literally moving into the same university? i couldn’t catch a break from him,” she faked her annoyance which he playfully avenged by sending her on the floor laughing as he tickled her. tears trickled down her cheeks as she begged him to stop, screaming to get away from his grip. “please, kuroo, i’m going to pee if you don’t stop!” he obliged, tears prickled the corner of his own eyes from laughing too much. straddling her waist, he gathered her wrists in one hand over her head. “apologize and said that kuroo tetsuro is the best man in your life or i swear i’ll make you pee,” he threatened her playfully, wiggling the fingers of his free hand close to her waist. her eyes widened in fears.

“that’s not fair!”

“apologize first.”

“fine!” she pouted, “i’m sorry, i won’t make fun of you again. now get off me!”

he raised his eyebrow, “andddd?”

“annddd-” a teasing smile appeared on her face as she said the next 5 words that send him to mars and back; “i love you kuroo tetsuro.”

he froze in shock. he heard the words before but never in this way; never for him.

finally, i think i got the calculation, love you yaku! lev you’re adorable but so stupid, i love it! thank you for letting me borrow your game, kenma. you’re the best, love ya!

the grip on her wrists loosened. taking advantage of his shock state, she pushed him back, straddling him by the waist, pinning his own hands above his head, giving him the taste of his own medicine. “i’m not going to leave your sorry ass, tetsu. i hope you don’t regret it,” she leaned down, capturing his lips with a longer kiss. letting go of his wrist, her hand went immediately into his rooster hair while another cupped his cheek, deepening their kiss. she could feel his cold palm resting against her bare waist and she shuddered. between the kisses, he heard her whispering his name. “kuroo, do you love me too?” she asked so innocently with kisses between the words but the way she grabbed a handful of his hand in a fist felt so dirty, eliciting a strangled moan from the back of his throat. she pulled back, staring down on his eyes as his lips moved.

“i love you too.”

nothing in his hazel eye but sincerity. he groaned when she pulled herself out of his reach, missing her warm body as she laughed. straightening her sweater back, pulling her hair back up into a tighter ponytail before she picked up the paintbrush she dropped. the paintbrush left a white stain on the court. as if kuroo wasn’t here, whimpering underneath her a minute ago, she continued her work. “i need to finish the mural by this week and you’re not exactly helping me,” she warned him, pointing the wet brush his direction. through the corner of her eyes, he was propped on his elbows, still staring at her, causing her to blush profusely. it annoyed him that she would tease him, then leaving him high and dry. before she could crack open the new paint tin, he ignored her warning as he tackled her back into his arms.

breathless against her lips, he told her to continue later. the urgency and rawness of his voice made her putty immediately. looking up the man, she pouted her lips.

“kuroo-san,” she whined as he captured her bottom lips.

he elicited a soft moan from the girl. he grinned against her lips. a hand rested firmly beside her head while another snaked under the sweater. there will be bruise tomorrow, she was sure of it, he will make sure of it.

“it will be quick, baby. i promise.”

she has no objection.

#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro fluff #haikyuu x y/n #kuroo tetsurou x reader #writing: hq #writing: fics

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meltwonu · 5 years ago

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s n a k e | e y e s [chapter 3]

pairing; snakehybrid!woozi x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; 🥺💕thank you for all the interest in snake eyes!! I can't believe it!! y’all don’t know how happy that makes me because I love this au!! 💕💕💕 in this chapter: jihoonie makes a small oopsies 🥴oral(female receiving), minor switch!woozi, hehehe... im sorry, im mean and u will know why 😭😭💕 also this chapter is long, strap in for the long ass ride!! yeehaw

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - x - x - x - x

It takes a week and a half for you and Jihoon to really fall into a rhythm that suits his and your needs.

Jihoon is still shy around you, only spending an hour or two with you while you work until he feels too awkward again, slinking away back into his room. You wonder, periodically, if he happened to hear what you were doing in your bedroom the night he came to stay with you and if that was the reason he’d been so shy and quiet around you. But you quickly shake the thoughts out of your head, preferring to believe that he hadn’t, for your sake and his. Jihoon had never mentioned anything to you anyway, so you had no reason to believe he’d heard anything.

But it’s a rainy Sunday afternoon that has you bundled up in an oversized sweater on the living room sofa, laptop haphazardly on a side table while you take a break from writing. A movie plays quietly on the tv in front of you, but you don’t really pay attention to it. Jihoon emerges from his room, covered up in a big sweater and his sweats as he takes a seat on the opposite end of the sofa.

“It’s… r-really cold today…” His voice is soft, almost a whisper, as he pulls his legs up onto the sofa, crossing them as he tries to cover his skin. “I… kinda had a h-hard time sleeping.”

“Did you need more heaters? The forecast said it’s supposed to rain for the next couple days, Jihoon…” You trail off, already sliding off of the sofa as you fetch a blanket for the cold male. “I can go pick you up another one tomorrow, if you’d like?” Draping the soft blanket over him, he thanks you, snuggling into the soft material. “If it’s okay… I don’t want you to go out of your way if it’s too much.” You chuckle, settling into your spot on the sofa again as you pick up your laptop to get a bit of work done.

“Nonsense, I want you to be comfortable here.”

Jihoon’s stomach grumbles 45 minutes later as he sinks deeper into the plush blanket, hiding the flush that covers his cheeks. You laugh slightly, already hopping off to make him and yourself a snack to eat.

“You’re more than welcome to rummage the kitchen whenever you want, y’kno. Or if you want me to make you something to eat, you can always ask.”

“Sorry I’m just… still getting used to it. You’re definitely nicer than my past owners.” You hum, curious about how his previous owners treated him for him to be this shy, or if he was just naturally always this timid. “It’s okay! Take your time. I know it’s weird but I’m… I’m still getting used to it too.” You feel your body heating up, suddenly reminded of a questionable dream you’d had the previous night; the cute snake hybrid invading even your mind when you slept recently. God I really need to get laid somehow, you think, maybe that cute barista from down the street would be interested? I think his name was Jun. Reminder to self to get his number next time.

You grab a pan, setting it onto the stove as you gather ingredients to make ddeokbokki; something that Jihoon really loved to snack on. “Hey, Jihoon? Did you wanna help me make this? I can teach you a bit!”

There’s a shuffling from the living room before the blonde haired male steps into the kitchen, a curious look on his face.

“I’ve never cooked before though…”

“It’ s okay! I can teach you. Just so that.. Um, just in case I’m not home or something and you get hungry?” He nods, stepping closer towards you as you set various ingredients onto the counter top. “Okay, I’ll just... Watch you.” You smile at him, urging him to come closer as you begin explaining what to do. But Jihoon’s mind fixates on something else, your voice getting drowned out when he feels the warmth radiating off of your body when he steps closer. Unbeknownst to you, Jihoon decides to stand almost directly behind you as you continue to explain how to cook to him.

When his hands start to slide up the hem of your sweater, you pause, setting the measuring cup back onto the counter top where it was before. Jihoon’s cold fingertips begin traveling up your sides, delicately caressing your skin under your sweater. Your breath is caught in your throat when he then leans his head over your shoulder, his tongue softly lapping at the exposed skin of your neck. A moan catches in your throat when you realize your body’s already rapidly heating up at his touch, the snake hybrid behind you also letting out a tiny moan of his own when he realizes how warm you’ve gotten.

But you snap back to reality, panic taking over when you let out a garbled noise, pushing back against Jihoon.

“Oh my g-god, wait--wh--”

Jihoon panics, pupils shaking as he pulls away completely, pressing himself into the fridge for a second before immediately bolting out of the kitchen without a word; only a door slam in the distance letting you know where he is.

A couple hours pass, the rain still pattering against the window as the moon rises beyond the clouds.

The ddeokbokki from earlier went unmade; ingredients going back to their original places as you decided to retreat to your own bedroom to catch your breath and cool yourself down. You really hadn’t hated what happened earlier, but it was quite the shock, and you could only imagine what Jihoon was feeling as well. But you set those feelings aside, making your way down the hallway to his bedroom to ask him about dinner. Fuck, he must be starving. He didn’t even eat earlier, you think.

You knock on his door, a muffled “yes?” coming from the other side.

“Jihoon did you want to eat dinner with me or will you eat later?”

“Uhm, hmm, I’m…um, I’ll.. I’ll eat with y-you.”

You set up the dinner table, setting Jihoon’s food across from you. You were glad that he just ate normal human food as it made it easier for you to take care of him; unsure if you could sit and watch him eat what snakes normally did. Hearing a door click, you break out of your thoughts, seeing him walk towards the dining table with a blush on his face.

“I… um…”

“Yes Jihoon?”

“I just… about earlier, I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have… um, stuck my hands in y-your shirt like that…”

The memory alone has you blushing, his delicate and cold fingertips brushing against your ribcage had a tingle traveling up your spine and down to your fingertips. You hadn’t hated it; just the shock from his touches had you initially recoiling, sending Jihoon running straight for his bedroom where he had holed up for hours.

“I… It was okay. I, um, didn’t hate it actually…”

“O-oh, uh, so… um, is it okay? If… If I do that sometimes? It’s… you feel nicer than, um, the h-heaters in my room so…”

“Y-yeah, I mean… y-yes, that would be… okay.” Shock momentarily flits over his features before a genuine smile etches onto his face. “Okay… U-um I mean, it---it won’t---I won’t, y’know, stick my hands in your shirt but maybe like---like we can, um, cuddle? Sometimes?” You almost choke on your food at his suggestion, suddenly too shy to make eye contact with him at how innocent it all sounded.

“Yeah that… that would be fine!”

The two of you have normal dinner conversations, you asking him about songs he’s been working on while he asks you about work. You remind him that you’ll pick up a new heater in the morning and begin clearing the table with his help.

When the dishes are cleared, you bid Jihoon a good night; thankful that the snake hybrid wasn’t too awkward after everything that had happened earlier in the day. He calls your name as you turn away from your doorway to face him again.

“Yes, Jihoon?”

“Um, I was wondering… If it’d be okay if I slept in your room? It’s just… Uh, it’s cold and raining and... yeah.”

You contemplate it for a second, wondering if that was really the best idea, all things considered. But you mentally shrug, thinking, it’s just sleep.

“Sure, why not. Why don’t you get ready for bed and just… come in when you’re ready?” He nods, thanking you before he slinks down the hallway to his bedroom to change. The entire thing feels a little questionable, but you shrug it off, getting ready for bed before Jihoon shows up.

Admittedly, you normally would sleep in a big shirt and panties since you slept alone. But since Jihoon would be joining you this time, you slip on a sweater and some pajama pants, opting to be completely covered in order to prevent any potential mishaps. You could only pray your dreams were normal.

There’s a knock on the door when you slide under the bed sheets, adjusting your pillows before you reply.

“Come in!”

Jihoon opens the door, shutting it behind him as he stands in front of it awkwardly. Much like yourself, he stands there in an oversized sweater and pajama pants, hands digging into the material of his sweater as he takes in the features of your bedroom. When his eyes finally land on you already under the sheets, you pat the side of the bed that’s empty, inviting him in.

“C’mon let’s sleep. I still need to go out tomorrow morning to get your things.”

The extra heater is forgotten the next morning when you wake up in his iron grip.

It’s not uncomfortable, but he’s only got one arm wrapped around your waist and you find it almost virtually impossible to escape his hold as he snores softly into your neck. So you lay there, listening to the pitter-patter of the non-stop rain and his soft breaths, thankful that the two of you had fallen asleep without a hitch and that your dreams were normal.

Jihoon had quietly slid into the large bed with you, muttering a ‘good night’ before your radiating warmth under the sheets had lulled him to sleep.

You don’t know how much time passes as you lay there, but eventually Jihoon decides to wake up, a yawn and a simple ‘good morning’ muffled into your skin before he pulls away, turning to face the opposite side. You sit up, rubbing your tired eyes as you check the clock. 11:09am.

“Did you want breakfast?”

You never buy the heater; Jihoon happily moving some of his personal items to your bedroom after that late morning breakfast. And you didn’t mind, as long as the snake hybrid was happy, so were you.

He had dragged in a heater, using it on nights when you came to bed late, only for you to shut it off when you finally slid underneath the covers. He would easily find your warmth, rolling over to lock you into his grasp as you fell asleep.

It became routine over the next couple of weeks, even when the clouds cleared and the days and nights were warm. Jihoon opened up to you more as well, dragging his keyboard into the living room to play you some of the songs he’d been working on in his old bedroom, now a work space. You’d often work in your spare room but recently you’d been spending more time in the living room with Jihoon, finding the space more comfortable to be in. Setting your work away, you lay down on the sofa, a yawn on your lips.

“Hey, can I, um, ask you something?”

His voice breaks you out of your train of thought as you adjust your body. Jihoon sits on the floor near the window, fingers tapping random keys on the keyboard as he avoids eye contact.

“Yeah, what’s up?” There’s hesitance written all over his face before he nods to himself, exhaling sharply before he replies.

“I… I know maybe I’m asking for a lot and, I mean, feel free to say no because I know you probably will! And that’s--that’s okay but I was wondering… if--if I…” Jihoon pauses for much too long as you raise a brow.

“If you what? Jihoon, is everything okay?”

“I, yeah, everything’s fine, I just.. I’m sorry, I… It’s okay if you think it’s weird and I’ve never really done it before either but I just, I noticed when… when I touch you, you get really, um, warm and I… I like it a lot so I was wondering if I could try something?”

A million different thoughts float through your head in a millisecond and you can’t stop the blush that creeps up your neck and paints your face red.

“Um, I guess… it would depend? What exactly… did you want to try?” You bite the inside of your cheek, already trying to keep yourself from squirming around.

“I… can I try… eating you out? I wanna see something.”

The formality of Jihoon asking so politely if he could go down on you sends your brain short circuiting quicker than lightning.

He’s convinced at this point you hate him and will probably send him back to the adoption home the next day when he sees the blank look on your face as you process.

“Shit, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked that, I---”

“Y-yes…”

“Wait, what, hold--” Jihoon turns into a sputtering mess, his palms clammy against his sweats as he squirms. “Wait, did you say… yes?” You nod, already feeling the heat pooling in your lower abdomen as you shift awkwardly on the sofa. “Yeah I… um, I’d… be okay with that…” Trailing off, you try to look at everything but Jihoon, mildly embarrassed at how increasingly wet you were already getting.

“O-okay, um, when should we… do it?” Jihoon’s voice is shaky and to anyone else he sounded nervous, but inside he could barely contain his new found excitement.

“Now is okay? I… I’m okay with right now.” You finally look at him, finding him already crawling over to you on the floor before moving the coffee table enough to sit on his knees in front of you. “I guess, let’s start…?” He trails off, the blush never leaving his face as he twiddles his thumbs. You nod, sitting up to slide your shorts off, shimmying to the edge of the sofa as you spread your legs for him.

“Interesting.”

“W-what?” You stare at him from between your legs as he slots himself in front of you, cold palms holding your thighs open as you shiver from his touch. “Nothing, just… you’re already wet.”

If there was a sinkhole underneath you, you’d like for it to take you right about now. The embarrassment sets your body on fire as Jihoon chuckles under his breath. “And now you’re really warm? Interesting.” You bite your lip as he leans in closer to your clothed mound, his tongue peeking out from between his lips.

“Ready to test my theory?”

Gulping, he doesn’t even give you a chance to reply before he’s licking you through your panties, his tongue adding pressure along the wet patch growing on the fabric. Your thighs threaten to clamp shut around his head but his grip on you is too tight, prying your legs wide open as he continues to lick at your clothed entrance.

Jihoon pauses for a second, a groan leaving his lips. “Fuck, you taste so good, I need to get these panties off of you now.” Agreeing, you hook your fingers into the band of your panties, ready to get them off.

“Ah, ah, not like that.” There’s a ghost of a smirk on his face before he lets go of your thighs, fingertips pushing your hands away and replacing them with his before he tears them in half, the soaked material sliding off of your body as you stare at him in shock.

“Jihoon, what th---”

“What? Didn’t think I was capable?” You’re at a loss for words; the sudden change in his demeanor from shy to slightly dominating, intoxicating. “I’m just… wow.” He laughs at your lack of response, gripping your thighs again as he leans back in, his tongue already on your slit as he licks up a stripe from your clit to your entrance. Your hands immediately tangle into his hair, moaning as his tongue laps at your wetness.

You feel like you’re floating on clouds, warm and dreamy while Jihoon eats you out. He hadn’t even used his fingers on you yet, only sliding his tongue through your folds and prodding at your entrance and you were sure you could cum just like this.

“Ngh, Jihoon… Can you… make me cum?”

The male between your legs hums in response before his tongue flicks at your clit, a groan leaving you when he draws harsh circles around the nub. You can feel the pressure in your body cresting as you try to grind down on his waiting tongue.

“Jihoon, I’m---”

When you wake up, Jihoon is still by the window, notebook full of music related jargon as he glances up at you. “Oh hey, I was wondering when you’d wake up. You fell asleep so fast after you laid down, I was gonna ask if you wanted to hear some of the stuff I was working on but you were out like a light.”

Your head is void of any thoughts as you stare blankly into Jihoon’s face; the entire thing had been a dream. A cold sweat coats your body as you sit up, the wetness between your legs insanely real.

“I… yeah, I guess I was tired… I--I didn’t say anything weird in my sleep, did I?”

Jihoon ponders for a moment, lips tilting cutely up into a pout.

“No, I mean, you made some weird little squeaky noises but… that was it. Why? Did you have a weird dream or something?”

“Uh… no, just… wondering.”

Fuck.

#snakehybrid!woozi #woozi smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios

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latestageyouth · 5 years ago

Text

Tutoring Session

oof okay so here you have a human au with dyscalculic Logan and dysgraphic Virgil because I can (note that I do not know any dysgraphic people and that Logan’s dyscalculia is based on my experience with it)

Pairings: one-sided analogical, background anxceit

Word count: 1,580

Warnings: deceit but he’s not in there for the most part, one-sided love I guess

Summary: Logan gets a tutor and catches feelings, then The Sad ensures

Logan sighed, "Are you sure I need tutoring?" he rubbed his hand uncomfortably, shifting in the driver's seat of his brother's car.

"Logan, you're failing your classes, yes, you need tutoring," Damon put his hand on the shorter one's shoulder, "Now get out, you're already late."

Logan stepped out of the car, getting out his phone as it buzzed. He heard the car pull out of the driveway and drive off as he checked his messages:

im here

nd ur late

He didn't bother typing out a response. Logan put the phone back into his pocket and opened the door to the library. Ruth, the librarian, glanced up at him and smiled, "Good day, Logan, nice to see you again so soon. Out of murder mysteries already?"

"No, I am supposed to have a tutoring session here, but thank you," Logan returned the smile and walked closer to the counter.

"Now, why would such a smart boy need tutoring?"

Logan felt a surge of panic flood him, quickly making up an excuse, good thing he learned from Damon, "No, I am supposed to tutor them."

Ruth quietly chuckled, "I see then, I think you're looking for the boy in the back. He's been sitting here for a few minutes now."

"Ah, yes, thank you, Ruth, I should get going," Logan walked through the towering shelves, looking at some people sitting against them, books discarded around them. Some of them were taking notes, some were reading, some were on their phone.

He reached the tables, most of them empty or with a large group of people. There were only a few with one or two people. Logan glanced around and tried to figure out who the tutor could be.

"You're late."

The deep voice behind him made Logan jerk and look around. Huh, the guy looked quite familiar, perhaps he saw him in the school or when he walked into Damon's room while he was having friends over. Nevertheless, that didn't make him any less intimidating, "I, uh, I apologize, it won't happen again."

The punk scoffed, "Yeah, I hope so. Look, just because Damon asked me to tutor you doesn't mean I will," he walked past Logan and over to an empty table with a few books on it. Logan followed, sitting opposite to the taller male.

Logan glanced at the covers of a few of the books, furrowing his eyebrows, "Most of these are from the 9th and 8th-grade curriculum."

"Well yeah, you gotta build up the basics," the pale man shrugged, pulling out a notebook out of his bag along with a pen titled 'notes' in messy handwriting.

Logan scoffed and rolled his eyes, "This is ridiculous," embarrassment and annoyance already building up in his chest. The punk didn't seem to be phased, other than raising his eyebrows, opening the notebook and sliding it across the table to Logan.

"Can you solve any of this?" Logan looked at a bunch of equations, none of them made sense to him. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to find the easiest to solve, but the numbers seemed to be just a bunch of random symbols that he could vaguely recognize. He knew them. He understood them, the teacher explained it to him multiple times. He should know this. The other one sighed, "That's what I thought," he slid the notebook back and Logan watched his only chance to escape this hell slide away into the taller man's hands.

"Fine, you win, I am bad at math," Logan refused to look at the other, instead looking down at the empty spot where the notebook once was.

"You're not bad at math, you have dyscalculia."

That's even worse, Logan thought. Why couldn't he just get a normal tutor? Oh, right, he already tried that, but then his parents either couldn't afford it so he had to get a cheaper one, or the tutor 'just wasn't used to tutoring someone with a learning disability'. He hated when people called it that. Technically, he knows there's so shame in having one, but he just can't help but feel that other's view him at 'stupid' or 'lazy' because of it. He tries, he really does. He excels in history, has a B+ in economics, the English teacher uses his papers as an example of perfect grammar, but he just has to have an F in algebra and geometry. He just had to have a D in chemistry.

Fingers with black nail polish snap in front of his face, "Hey, specs, you listening?"

"Uh, yes, of course. I apologize," Logan adjusted his glasses, "What were you saying?"

"I asked you what you wanna start with," the punk put a hand under his chin and squinted his eyes, "I would pick the one you struggle the least with."

"I suppose, geometry it is then."

The other's eyes widened a bit at that, "You, uh, you sure specs?" the hand that wasn't supporting his head began fiddling with the pen. Logan nodded. The taller one opened the notebook and filtered through a few of the pages until finally settling on an empty one. He clicked the pen, then paused for a second before bringing it to the page and writing what Logan thought was a math problem. After he repeated the process a few times, he flipped the notebook to face Logan, "Alright, the first three should be fine for an 8th grader. So, the first one is a graph-"

"Yes, I can see that but your handwriting is just horrendous, I can't read anything," Logan glanced over the page, the problems being randomly scattered across the page, completely ignoring the lines, being shaky in some places and words misspelled. One would think a 3rd grader wrote this.

The pale one looked away, somehow growing even paler if Logan could see correctly, "Well, yeah I guess, I have dysgraphia. I can dictate it to you if you wanna..."

It was Logan's turn to be shocked, "Oh, I apologize. I didn't know, uhh..." Logan wondered at the other's name, realizing that neither he or his brother told him.

"Virgil, it's Virgil."

"What a charming name..." Logan mumbled in a barely audible voice before he could stop himself. He hopes Virgil didn't hear it. If he did, he does not mention it, "Y-yes, as I was saying, I am sorry. Virgil."

Virgil looked at the notebook, "Yeah, it's whatever, I'm used to it. I could, like, dictate it to you and you could write it? That'll kill to flies with one rock," he reached his hand with the pen in it over to Logan, waiting for him to take it.

Logan's lips twitched up involuntarily for a moment, before taking the pen in his hand, "Yes, I suppose that would be satisfactory," he bought over Virgil's notebook, turning to a clear page, "So, could you repeat the problems?"

Virgil smiled, what a sight to see, "Right so, the first one is a graph..." Virgil leaned on the table as Logan wrote. Seeing such clear handwriting was kinda cool. They sent the rest of the session doing geometry, only touching on algebra by the end.

Logan averted his head from the worksheet Virgil had brought when he heard his phone buzz, "Sorry, just a second," he unlocked the phone, reading a text from Damon.

times up, L, i am here to save u.

"It's from Damon, looks like the session is over," Logan said to Virgil as he typed out a response before turning his phone off:

Just a minute.

"Damn, it really is late. Well, guess I'll see you later specs, remind your mom to pay me," he looked up to find Virgil doing the two-finger salute and walking away.

"Logan."

Virgil stopped and turned around, "What?" he raised an eyebrow.

"My name. It's Logan."

Virgil smirked, "Yeah, specs, I already know," he already turned on his heel and walked away behind the bookshelves before Logan could say another thing. Speaking of Logan, he had begun walking to the exit, saying a quick goodbye to Ruth and pushing the door open. In the parking lot of the library was already standing the yellow sedan that belonged to his brother. He walked over and opened the door.

"So, how was it? Not that bad, huh?"

Logan rolled his eyes and shut the door, "I suppose so..." his phone buzzed again. Logan looked at the new message.

i thnk u clud read my 13 wnter by samnta abeeel its rlly good

i thnk yull like it

lso th number snse is cool

Logan smiled and replied back:

Sure will do, thank you for the recommendation.

He didn't need to wait even a minute for the response:

no prblm

"Who's that?" Damon glanced over at Logan's phone.

"Oh," Logan saved his number as 'Virge' "Just my tutor."

Damon laughed and pulled out of the driveway, "Just don't steal him away from me."

Logan gripped his phone tighter, "He's your boyfriend?" some part he represses pray that he's not. Damon nods. Logan feels his heart sink.

"Yeah, the only one who lasted more than a year. Can you believe that? He actually likes me for me," Logan spotted the subconscious smile on his older brother's face. Of course, he had to like a taken guy. Just Logan's luck.

"Good for you. Also, he told me to remind mom to pay him," Logan renames the contact to 'Tutor' then puts the phone away, ignoring the buzzing of a new message.

#sanders sides #logan sandes #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #human au #anxceit #analogical #one sided love #again im sorry for grammar mistakes #this is so sad cortana play logans rap bit #oof it really is two in the morning but here i am #enjoy #also note i do not know how dysgraphic people text #and internet didnt show me anything #so im sorry if its not accurate #also #Ruth #we stand a librarian queen

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ninaahelvar · 5 years ago

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The Stakeout (4/5)

Summary: In order to get all the information they can, the detective duo, Bakugou and Uraraka, must go on a stakeout. But close proximity may force some underlying feelings to come to the surface. Also known as “Bakugou had a really bad date and it gives him perspective”

AO3

A/N: please thank @doesitsaysassonmyuniform for all her hard work on this chapter. it wouldn’t be out without her. all the funny stuff was her. i will not take credit for her genius.

There was a heavy buzzing under his head, like a hive of angry bees had infested his pillow. He groaned, rolling over as his head throbbed. He’d drunk way too much last night.

Buzz buzz

Was it his alarm? What time was it anyway? It couldn’t have been that late in the day, not with how his room was barely lit when he’d managed to pry open his eyes. It was a small blessing - if he’d been late for work on top of everything else, he might just kill someone.

Buzz buzz

He didn’t hear his alarm, so it must be his phone. He had vague recollections of the night before, passing out on his bed before he could even get undressed. Had he put his phone on silent?

With another groan, he wrenched his head up out of the cradle of his arms, and fumbled for his phone. He squinted in the morning light - it was low, but not enough to avoid hurting his eyes - and finally flipped his blankets in frustration. It flew out onto the floor with a thud and he stretched out to get it, his stomach rising into his throat as he moved.

Extremely hungover - noted.

By the time he picked up his phone, it had finally stopped buzzing, leaving a faint ringing in his ears at the sudden silence. Bakugou frowned as he turned on the screen, the blur of notifications clearing as his eyes focused.

Shitty Hair (9 Missed Calls)

Shitty Hair: Holy shit I can’t believe u did it!

Shitty Hair: (10 Messages)

Did what? Why was that fucking bastard calling him at - he checked the top of his phone - six in the morning anyway? He unlocked his phone and opened his texting app, and was met with a wall of grey message bubbles.

Shitty Hair: Uraraka just txted me!!

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: Seriously dude pick up

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: if ur fkn asleep rn I stg

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: I can’t believe u did it!

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: It better not be a joke or ill kill u

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: ok I don’t care if ur asleep ill make u answer

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: Dude she’s super freaked rn cause u wont respond

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: look im porud u finally did it but u cant send that and then go silent

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: *proud

Shitty Hair: HOLY SHIT I CANT BELIEVE U DID IT!

Bakugou was starting to have a bad feeling, one entirely outside of his hangover. It felt like something was squeezing his chest, and it was getting tighter and tighter the more he read. He looked at the icon, and winced at the little number telling him he had more unread messages.

From Uraraka.

Shit.

He clicked on the thread, and scrolled all the way up to his last message.

@ 1:37am

You: heyyyy want som fuk??

You: shit no i mean

You: ur hot

You: it pisses me off

You: we should fuck tho

You: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

No. No no no no no no. No! Fuck! No! The universe was fucking playing with him, right? This couldn’t be real. Fuck! It was, it was staring him in the fucking face! FUCK! He was going to explode his entire apartment.

Round Face: ...what?

Round Face: Bakugou wtf?

Round Face: Do you mean that??

Round Face: How drunk are you rn??

Round Face (2 missed calls)

Round Face: I’m gonna murder you

In the midst of Bakugou’s midlife - soon to be end of life - crisis, his phone started to ring, Kirishima’s face beaming as his name appeared. Bakugou immediately answered, pressing his phone to his ear as he hung his head between his legs.

“What did you do?” he asked, and Bakugou did the only thing he could think of.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“You fucking idiot,” Kirishima laughed and Bakugou threw himself backwards on his bed, hand pressed to his forehead.

“I WAS DRUNK! I DON’T EVEN REMEMBER!”

“Well lucky for you phones don’t exist and neither does she - oh wait.” Bakugou could hear that smug voice of his radiating through the fucking phone and he wanted to burn it in his hand.

“NOOOOOOOOO!” Bakugou whined, feeling completely beside himself - unaware of how ridiculous he was sounding. He was just having the worst day of his life, and it was showing.

“Hey, at least it’s out there now, right? She didn’t say no.”

“I wanna die. I’m jumping out the window.”

“You are the biggest drama queen I know,” Kirishima laughed, and Bakugou put his head between his legs, a sickening feeling rising in his throat and the overwhelming urge to projectile vomit across his apartment was becoming an almost welcoming idea.

“I will kill you later,” Bakugou groaned, shaking his hand through his hair, over and over again until he felt like he was at ease. He didn’t stop for a while.

“Oh, so you’re actually coming into work?” Kirishima sounded surprised, and it dawned on Bakugou...this day was going to be his last - he was deciding it before it was even over, his last day alive would be that day.

“I don’t fucking know, give me an hour to die first,” Bakugou said, knowing this would be the first time that he was late - and having no other excuse than being a fucking drunken moron.

Bakugou stumbled into work, his clothes a mess, hair barely done, and collar sticking up to hide his face. With every step, it felt like eyes were on him, watching his every move, and it made every hair on his body stand on end - he needed to fight something soon otherwise he’d go stir crazy.

Before interacting with anyone else, a bounding bubble of joy crashed alongside him, knocking him off balance. Bakugou stared back at his partner who smiled like a child - and his heart was racing like an idiot.

Her expression fell, clicking her tongue as she took him in. Why the fuck was he feeling so hot? He felt like he was a rising thermometer, about to burst at the fuckng end. He was a walking infomercial, some fucked up idiot that can’t keep it down.

“Wow you look wrecked. Sleep well, Blasty?” she asked, a slight pout as she stepped closer to him.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

“Not as wrecked as your face.” The two of them frowned at the words. Why did he speak at all? “Anyway, Case!”

FUCKKKKKKKK STOP TALKING!

If a villain could come in through the window and suplex him out of existence right now, he’d be grateful. So. Fucking. Grateful.

Now, Bakugou wasn’t a religious man. He didn’t believe in a higher power. That felt like a mistake - because God was punishing him for his abject atheism. This was a goddamn joke, and God was clearly laughing.

If he got down on his knees and started praying, would it stop?

Uraraka quirked an eyebrow at him, before answering. “Yeah, we had a new lead come in this morning and most teams are on it, you missed Aizawa’s speech.”

Fuck. Aizawa knew he was late.

Praying wouldn’t save him now.

Uraraka guided them both to their desks, rattling on about the case - something about a guy getting into some dark shit with trafficking young kids. In the end, Bakugou found concentrating hard. He would normally listen and make sure to take notes when it came to figuring out who the guy was - but he just couldn’t stop watching her. He watched and wondered why the hell she wasn’t saying anything. Uraraka replied to the messages, she even called - and now it was radio silence.

Normally, Bakugou would yell about it - but it felt wrong to bring it up, it could embarrass them both, and although he didn’t embarrass easy, this was completely new for him. Embarrassment came easier with all that romantic shit. It was stupid and frustrating and Bakugou hated the fact that he fell for it all, after years of denying himself.

Bakugou wasn’t built for this shit, and it definitely showed.

As Uraraka went to talk to eye witnesses - a task that Bakugou was strictly not allowed to do anymore - he went to the kitchen, making himself a coffee and praying it woke him up enough to stop the nagging sensation in his heart and the throbbing in his head.

A whisper then came into his ear.

“Hey, want some fuck with that coffee?”

Bakugou spat out his coffee and it sprayed across the kitchen bench. Kirishima laughed behind him, moving away to grab a donut - the fucking prick. Bakugou was meant to be safe here, away from her and this fucker had to come and ruin it.

Bakugou coughed, thumping his chest before turning to glare at the other man. “Could you keep your fucking voice down, Shitty Hair?”

“I don’t know - can you look Uraraka in the eye?” Kirishima quirked his eyebrow and Bakugou stepped towards the pointy haired bastard.

“Want me to rip yours out?”

“Tetchy tetchy. Don’t lash out at me cause you’re not getting any.” Kirishima stuffed the donut into his grinning teeth, and Bakugou tried to burn holes into the fucker’s skull.

“Murder. Expect murder.”

Kirishima only laughed, waving at Bakugou as he went back to his desk. In the back of his mind, Bakugou could only think the asshole was talking about him - gossiping about Bakugou’s idiotic love life and how ridiculous this all was.

Bakugou wanted to fucking die.

The window looked so inviting, calling to him like a siren’s song.

As he sat in the kitchen, looking over notes on the case he hadn’t paid attention to, a loud blaring noise came over the speakers of the precinct. It was unusual for an alarm to go off - on rare occasions when fire alarm detected smoke (which may have been Bakugou - no on proved it was) or emergencies. With the chaos that was soon surrounding him, Bakugou guessed the latter.

“What the fuck is going on?” Bakugou asked as Kirishima ran back towards the equipment room.

“Genzo’s been spotted. We’ve gotta go,” he panted as he ran. He didn’t even stop.

Aizawa burst from his office, his scarf that was rarely off was primed at the ready. “He’s on the move! Everyone get going!” he demanded, stopping short of the door to look back at Bakugou, glaring. “That includes you, Bakugou!” he snapped, and Bakugou sighed, throwing aside his paperwork to head into the equipment room.

Kirishima handed him all his guards and gauntlets, the two rushing out as Uraraka was fixing her earpieces in, rolling her shoulders to prep herself. Bakugou smirked, watching as she worked her magic as she got ready for a fight. Regardless of how much of an ass he made of himself, he still couldn’t get over Uraraka being a goddamn badass at her job.

They got to the site of Genzo’s attack. He had completely wrecked a transport vehicle, exploded it like an atomic bomb and was causing a fucking disaster zone by the sheer amount of electric power around him.

“Any casualties?” Bakugou asked, tightening his gauntlets and making sure they were ready to go when he needed them.

“Two police officers that we know of,” Aizawa said, going over the short notes he was given by officers on the scene.

“Any officers we know?” Uraraka asked, her voice a little strained as she asked. Bakugou looked over to her.

“None,” Aizawa replied. Bakugou watched as Uraraka sighed. Deku. He knew who she was thinking of, and it made a spot in between his shoulder blades ache. He bound his fists and kept his attention on the chaos. This guy was burning every fuse within his view, drawing all of it to him and sending it back at people.

“Our main priority is to protect civilians, and keep him away from the generators. He probably saw he was close to the power plant - we have to keep him away and out of reach of that power. We have no idea what he’ll do with it.”

And with that, the teams were divided - one person on civilians, the other on containment. Both Uraraka and Bakugou knew their place without even a glance. Bakugou set off an explosion as Uraraka moved a group of worried people out of the way. She was great, when another eruption came through, she’s catch them in time and float them to safety - barely even registering that she’d activated her quirk.

When Bakugou set off an explosion that ripped up the entire road - something he knew he’d get in deep shit over later - he watched as the other agents got into position, preparing for their next move and knowing the reach of Bakugou’s quirk. The ground ripped up and threw Genzo around, knocking him against a building and an audible yell of pain rumbled through the area. It gave them time to evacuate. It’s all they needed right now.

Uraraka went to Bakugou’s side, panting a little as she pointed. “Group, ten o’clock. You got this?” she asking, pointing to the group of huddled people just across from Genzo. Bakugou scoffed at Uraraka’s words.

“Tch, who the fuck do you think I am?”

“Yeah, yeah, just wait for my signal,” she laughed, moving off, touching pieces of rubble that were easy to float. Bakugou smirked, watching as they floated skyward and eventually just guiding her hands on all the rubble she passed with her quirk activated. It wasn’t long before Uraraka found the stuck bystanders and pointed them to a safe route out of the danger zone. But Genzo was quicker than either of them had anticipated, rising from his injured state, rolling his shoulders with a tight grimace on his face.

Genzo roared, sapping the power from a nearby building, the electricity crackling over his skin and bared for a quick release. He wanted to inflict damage and make it count - Bakugou could see it in his eyes. Genzo looked for anything that was moving. The civilians. Uraraka saw it too, and she did something stupid.

She knew it too.

“Get back!” Uraraka called to the civilians, and Bakugou watched in horror as Genzo reacted first - her voice drawing too much attention. Her warning, was an attraction. The fucker moved quick - faster than any of them could have expected, and Bakugou redirected his explosions, trying to counter as best he could to the new position. He set off an explosion behind him, sending him to their location as fast as he could.

He wasn’t gonna make it.

“Uraraka, move!”

She turned her head, eyes widening and arms coming out to block far too late as the energy surge hit her full force. Uraraka was knocked so far back, she’s skidding across pavement like it’s slick. When she stops, she’s flinching, over and over again - her body reacting to the electric current running over her body.

He saw her hands come together, letting the meteor shower rain down, catching Genzo off guard and trying to evade the oncoming onslaught. He wasn’t expecting Bakugou though.

He was only a split second behind.

“DIE YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”

Bakugou came bounding in, hands directed at the target and firing off two of the most explosive blasts he had ever mustered. It knocked Genzo to the ground, and Bakugou landed over him, his fits binding tight as he repeatedly punched - throwing him about as the bastard laughed. Once Bakugou finally cracked one of Genzo’s teeth, his face a bloody mess of what it once was - Bakugou regained his sense and tossed Genzo off to the side.

In the aftermath, there was silence - waiting for the next thing to fall or the next blast to knock over a bunch of people. But it was just simply silence. In the ash and smoke, Bakugou waded through it, leaving Genzo to whatever fate he had left him in, finding his partner curled up and in pain.

Bakugou dropped to her side, hands fluttering around her useless as he took her in. This was bad. This was fucking bad. Her clothes were a disaster, the giant hole in her vest giving way to blistered and blackened skin. Some of it had fused to the fabric, and it made bile rise up in his throat just to see it. He didn’t even know if he could touch her but one look at her glassy eyes made it impossible not to move.

The ozone in the air made his skin stand on end - and that was the only reason - as he pulled her into his lap as gently as he could. “Hey Round face,” he lightly tapped her cheeks and she turned to look at him. Her brown eyes were so unfocused. “Stay with me, fucker.”

Her face was so pale and her mouth moved wordlessly for a moment before she was able to speak. “You called me Uraraka.”

His throat was tight. “Yeah well you’d kill me if I called you Round face in public, Round face.”

Her lips quirked ever so slightly, eyes looking somewhere over his shoulder. “You just did…ugly.”

“Yeah I guess I did.”

Kirishima landed heavily at their side, and his breath hitched when he saw her chest. “Dude..”

“Genzo?”

Kirishima shook himself. “Right. He’s out - you did a number on him. The police have got it covered. EMT’s should be here any second.”

Bakugou brushed some hair out of her face - it was just getting all tangled and sweaty anyway. She didn’t even notice. “You with me Round Face?”

“Yeah - but- but my chest feels -” She tried to get up and he had to force her back down.

“Fuck don’t move okay - you’re gonna be fine.” He scanned the street, and couldn’t push down the relief as the familiar jackets of the EMT’s came into view. “Hey! We need some help over here!”

People ran over, moving Bakugou against his will. But in the end, when he watched Uraraka flinch in pain, he knew he wasn’t needed anymore. Regardless of how desperately he wanted to stay. They were fragile with her, placing her gently into the stretcher, and finally into the ambulance. Driving away, Bakugou felt his heart lurch.

Nakamura Genzo was captured easily, given more restraints and heavier security around him. They treated him for his injuries - third degree burns, his entire right side was a mess of broken ribs and bruises, and the left was a little less severe. Bakugou needed to work on his left hook apparently. Genzo had a punctured lung from one of his ribs, and his front teeth were busted, but it didn’t matter to Bakugou. He was taken in - he was completely taken care of. Bakugou just cared about one thing.

~*~*~

Hospitals were always a place of pain - mostly for Bakugou on certain missions, yet now it was different. The fluorescent lights were straining his eyes as he walked through the halls - the constant wailing and crying was enough to keep him away too. Yet, she was there. His partner was laid up in a hospital bed in whatever fucking condition Genzo left her in. Bakugou was told the room number and he walked to it with bound fists at his side.

Flowers were already placed in her room, cards lining the benches with well wishes. Uraraka was already propped up - though there had been a day between her injuries and his visit. The rest of the team had already gone to see her. Bakugou was questioned a fuck tonne in order to explain Genzo’s injuries. He didn’t have much else to say other than “what would you rather me do? Beat him within an inch of his life, or let him kill everyone in the area?”

After that, he was allowed home, where he stared at his phone waiting for an update.

Kirishima texted late saying Uraraka was asking after him.

Bakugou knew he had to go see her after that.

He hung back by the door as Uraraka stopped playing with her phone, smiling down to whoever was contacting her. She looked up and her smile dropped, like seeing him was more of a shock than a surprise. Bakugou’s jaw set tight and his heart felt like it was trapped in between two ribs - unable to beat without causing him pain.

“Bakugou, hey, I was wondering when you’d -”

“What the hell was that?” he snapped, his chest a mess of emotions he would never allow himself to process.

Uraraka sighed, scratching lightly at her brow. “I know I was a little -”

“You were reckless and put yourself in danger for that shitty mission,” he snarled, moving to the foot of her bed. Her once soft expression turned to that of defiance, her brow crinkling in frustration.

“Hey! I’m not as fragile as you -”

“I don’t think you’re fragile, moron! You were putting your life in danger for nothing,” he said, hands gripped tight to the edge of her bed.

“Don’t be an idiot,” she spat back, folding her arms over her chest.

“What?” His brow knit, watching as she stared back at him, anger etched into her features.

“You’re being an asshole, saying you think I can take it, but then say I can’t because I’m weak. I can fucking take it!”

“I know you can fucking take it, but I can’t! Not like this!” The rage let slip the words that were held back - anger and frustration finally touching at the parts of himself he wanted to hide away. His hands bound together, tight fists by his side as his jaw set. If he couldn’t unbind his teeth, he wouldn’t need to answer her obvious question.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

There it was.

“Don’t do it again, idiot,” he replied, voice breaking and pushing himself off the bed, moving out of the hospital room and going home. He had the day off anyway.

It was just mistake after mistake.

Words said.

Actions not taken.

Secrets let slip.

Everything was a goddamn mistake.

With his head in his hands, Bakugou could feel regret gripping him, like a force that bound him to the feelings that made him scared of himself. She made him scared. No one could make him fear the unknown - pain, injuries, death - it was all he ever craved. But she went down, and everything came flooding over him, like a fucking tidalwave, saturating his being until he was as desperate as any other fucker on the planet.

It wasn’t Bakugou.

And it all made him scared. Of Uraraka. For Uraraka.

What did it all mean when everything else was a fucking mess? He hated that he couldn’t piece himself together, unravelling like a perfectly tied up coil coming apart by one tight pull.

Word went around that Uraraka was released from the hospital after two days, and given a week’s bed rest. She deserved more for all the work she did, but Bakugou knew she’d bounce back sooner or later.

Bakugou was midway through writing a report for Aizawa when a booming voice called out through the precinct. “Hey! Asshole!” The whole room turned, seeing Kirishima storming through. He wasn’t the type of dude that got pissed off easily, so it was a surprise. Then, he pointed directly at Bakugou. “Yeah you!”

“The fuck did you just call me?” Bakugou said, standing and standing face to face with the bastard.

“You haven’t gone to see Uraraka, I get to call you what I like!”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, stepping back from Kirishima and going back to his desk. “I don’t have to do shit all,” he replied, only for Kirishima to haul him back, fists in each other’s clothes - the two like gasoline and fire, ready to erupt at any moment.

“She’s fucking expecting you, so go!” Kirishima replied, his features hardening, expecting the fight.

“Who are you to demand -”

“I’m your best friend, so listen to me and go see Uraraka. Tonight!” he yelled. The precinct was silent, and Bakugou suddenly felt seen - that there was something telling everyone about he and Uraraka other than being partners. He didn’t want to be seen. Bakugou shoved Kirishima back, straightening out his clothes as he looked back at the spikey haired bastard.

“Fine! Fuck,” he swore, murmuring curses under his breath as he went back to his work, holding back on his anger.

It wasn’t as though he didn’t care about Uraraka. She’d had injuries worse than this. Fuck, Bakugou had stayed at her house while she had a broken leg and a few broken ribs before - cooking, cleaning, doing her laundry. This was different. She didn’t seem to need him like before.

Maybe he was just…

Scared wasn’t the right word.

He wasn’t ready.

After everything that had happened, he wasn’t ready for her to see him and maybe understand what he said.

But he did have to see her. Check in.

It was only right.

~*~*~

It was weird, holding a bag of things for her as he stood outside her door. It was a crumbly old apartment building with like no space other than the essentials. With most of Uraraka’s money going to her parents, Bakugou understood why she stayed there, but for once he’d wish she’d think about herself.

Huffing, he knocked on the door. It was harder than he anticipated, but it didn’t matter. With barely a second to straighten out his shoulders when Uraraka opened the door. He felt a lump in the back of his throat when he saw her. It had been four days since she left the hospital, and four days since they’d seen each other. She had a few tiny cuts and bruises on her arms and on her cheek, but other than that - she was just Uraraka.

She was in grey tracksuit pants and an oversized hoodie she’s gotten at their time with the agency. It was far too big, slipping off her shoulder as she took Bakugou in.

“Bakugou,” she said, voice a little shaken. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

He gave a vague shrug. “Kirishima.”

“Oh, okay.” Uraraka cleared her throat before she opened the door a little wider. “Come in,” she said, gesturing for him to enter. He followed and went inside, handing her the bag as she walked past him.

“Here,” he grumbled, focusing his attention to the floor. She peered inside the bag before gasping.

“Mochi donuts?! Thank you,” she smiled, tucking hair behind her ear.

“It’s better than the nothing I was going to get you,” he replied.

“But Kirishima talked you into it?” Bakugou returned a vague ‘tch’ sound before he stood back in her hallway and Uraraka was wandering into her kitchen.

“How’s the burn?” he asked, clearing his throat as his arms folded over his chest. He wasn’t sure what the fuck to do with himself. He felt cornered, that the walls might swallow him and he may never be allowed to leave - in a constant state of waiting for her to ask about the texts and what happened at the hospital.

“It’s fine. I barely feel it. Recovery girl really helped the process along so I’m ready to get back to work.” There was a voice she put on - a raise in her chin as she acted tough. A show for him to not think any less of her. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

“Good. That’s good,” he said, clearing his throat again and pushing off from the wall. “I only came ‘cause shitty hair made me. I’m gonna leave,” he said, going towards the door, ready to open it.

“What did you mean in the hospital?” she asked, voice quiet compared to earlier. She was scared. His hand was at the handle, inches from turning the knob, but he turned, looking back at Uraraka as she fiddled with the ends of her hoodie.

“What?”

She raised her chin, fingers still at the ends of her sleeves, nervously pulling at them. “I’m not repeating myself.”

He huffed. “I didn’t mean -”

“I’m tired of your shit Bakugou!” She yelled, and he stared across at her in shock. When he didn’t reply, she continued. Uraraka almost charged him as she spoke, getting right into his space and not backing away for a second. “If you lie to me, I swear to god, I’m going to fling you out the window, now tell me!”

She stared at him, a rage that only Bakugou could bring out of her. And in the midst of it, the scared teenager that couldn’t get over a crush was hammering away and begging for his chance. In the end, the man won out, and acted in the only way he knew how to.

Bakugou wasn’t a guy of many words.

So he didn’t use them.

He surged forward.

He didn’t dare to touch her, only kissing her as swiftly as body could allow, towering over her and making her stagger backwards. She gripped into his shoulders, responding with the most beautiful lips he had ever tasted. Then, she pulled back, staring back - no anger, just confusion, written into her features.

“W-what? Does this -”

“Stop fucking talking, round face,” he growled back, forehead resting against hers. He tried to dive right back in, only managing to steal a small kiss before she pulled away. Bakugou froze, watching as a smile grew on her lips right before she stole another. He smirked, knowing the game she was playing.

She tempted and teased, pulling back the moment Bakugou was about to latch his lips to hers, to never part them for as long as his lust would hold out. Whatever she she was doing, she knew the exact way to have Bakugou fall for it - she was going to have Bakugou everyway she wanted him, and he fucking knew it. All the while, it wound him up, like he was a jack-in-the-box, and god, was he ready to spring out and surprise her.

In one swift guide of his arm, he pulled her in by her waist, snaring her lips with his own and kissing her as sharply as he needed. He wanted her, and he wanted her the moment he stepped foot into her apartment. Pressing her up against the wall, she let out a soft gasp against his mouth, but he wanted to surprise her - do everything that every ounce of lust within him wanted to do. Her sweats were still midway down her thigh but they weren’t off, which gave Bakugou every excuse. Turning Uraraka around, her hands pressed against the wall - he bent and took down the remaining parts of her pants, bending down and watching the way her body swayed with each move he made.

Bakugou couldn’t help himself, hand squeezing into her ass, the bounce and shake of it making everything in him rise - adrenaline and lust surging across him. He teeth scraped across one cheek before he bit into it a little harder. Uraraka mewled, hands clawing at the wall - hard enough for Bakugou to hear - and as Bakugou kissed at the spot he not-so-delicately bit into, her hands released, reaching behind her to gently stroke at his hair. She looked over her shoulder as Bakugou took her underwear down swiftly, he wasn’t going to waste any more fucking time.

Gripping in once more, he pushed his face in the crevasse of her cheeks, tongue stroking at her tender lips and immediately making Uraraka rise on her toes. She fell back down, pushing her hips into his face, and holy fuck did he enjoy it. Bakugou held onto her thighs, widening her stance as he lapped up all that she was feeling. Uraraka whined, panting as he kept his mouth on her entrance, delivering his tongue in just to hear her moaning gasps.

“Oh, Bak -” she whined, and his hand snaked from her thigh to taking his tongue’s place, fingers circling her folds before entering her slowly. He slowly rose to his feet, her hand slipping from his hair back to the wall, and he kissed up the back of her neck to have her shiver against him. “Baku -”

“Katsuki,” he whispered in her ear.

“Fuck, Katsuki!” she said, pushing her hips against his hand, forcing it directly into his hips. She may not have known she was doing so, but she rocked perfectly onto his crotch, his cock aching inside his jeans. “Right there, right there! Right there!” she cried, her voice soft and desperate. She spurred him on, fingers working overtime just to hear what it would sound like when she finally came.

Her hips pushed back hard against him, her panting becoming a little harder to control and Bakugou could feel her around his fingers - Uraraka was at the end of her tether. She reached behind herself once more, hand on his wrist as she breathed in heavy gasps. He didn’t know if she was trying to stop him, or was telling him to keep going - either way, she crashed against the wall, crying out a little moan and pushing her ass straight up against his hips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, feeling the strain in his pants. “I’m not going to last if you keep pushing your ass into me,” he said into her ear. Uraraka looked over her shoulder, brushing hair from her face.

“I didn’t say you had to,” she said. Tempt and tease.

“Fuck,” he groaned, tugging on her arm to turn around, “you asked for it,” he warned her before bending down and picking her up into his arms.

Uraraka held onto his face, kissing him as he staggered around her cramped apartment. He fell into walls, struggled past the doorway, and had them falling into the bed. Uraraka giggled, kissing Bakugou before he rolled his hips against her, making her moan a little more. He just needed one more thing before he parted from her. He stood up from the bed, stripping himself of his shirt and kicking off his shoes. Uraraka took the cue and shrugged out of her hoodie and shirt, leaving her only in her bra. As Bakugou snapped off his belt and pushed his pants down, Uraraka unclasped her bra and tossed it aside.

Remembering where he’d seen them the last time - an awkward conversation was had when Bakugou was putting away laundry - he went to Uraraka’s dresser drawer, finding the condoms and tearing at the edge of one. He started to place it on when he saw Uraraka adjust herself slightly. Sitting up, Uraraka moved over to him, her hand gracing over down from his chest to his stomach, fingers tempting to down his length. He caught her wrist loosely, pushing it aside to her confusion.

“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning over her, forehead pressed to her own.

“I wanted to make you feel good,” she said with a flutter of her eyelashes. Bakugou smirked.

“Nah, this is all about you, lie back down.” She did as she was told, crawling her way up the bed and waiting for him to follow after.

Bakugou wasted no time - he could have savoured the beauty of her in all her glory, gaze at her wonder, but he wanted to touch her more than anything. He crawled up the bed, sucking at her skin, nipping underneath her breast and sucking at the edge of her collarbone. All the while she hummed her approval, nipping into his shoulder briefly as they came face to face once more.

Moving his hand down between them, grazing against her most sensitive bundle of nerves, her body arching into his touch. He smirked, the briefest of touches could have her responding, he wondered what more could do for her. When he guided his length inside her, Uraraka’s hands went to his shoulders, pulling their bodies together.

There was only the sound of Uraraka’s panting in the room, but it couldn’t last - Bakugou knew himself too well, he wouldn’t be able to stay still for much longer. He moved his hips slow at first, gaining speed and arching into every thrust to get the best noises out of Uraraka. She obviously hated that she was getting louder and louder. But his ego sure as fuck loved it.

“Katsuki,” she mewled, nails clamped down into his back, raking up as his thrusts came in quicker succession. “Yes! Yes!” she cried, her hand on the back of his neck.

She pulled him down, kissing him roughly, and he enjoyed every fucking second of it. She bit into his bottom lip when she got excited. Bakugou couldn’t help himself, he rocked in harder, taking up the back of her knee. Uraraka arched her back, panting a little harder than even before.

In her movements, he was finally able to look at her without the overwhelming urge to take her. There were scars that littered her skin, some old, some new, following the curves of her waist and hips. Her breasts were round, much like the rest of her, and tempting as everything else - Bakugou kissed down her neck to take one of her nipples between teeth, just to have her push into him again. It worked to perfection, her breast rising beautifully into his mouth, and her hips bucking into his own when he gave a harder thrust. She was perfect to understand, to love and hold in a single moment.

“Ah!” Uraraka said suddenly, her body recoiling in a single beat. Bakugou’s eyes snapped to hers, watching her face contort in discomfort. He pulled away slightly, letting her body fall to where she needed, but never leaving the warm depths between her thighs. Uraraka sighed, laying back into the sheets and looking up at Bakugou with pinker cheeks than usual. He wanted to smile, but he with the sudden halt on everything, he wasn’t sure if the passion had fallen to its wake.

“Shit, are you okay?” he asked, hand ghosting over her side. Uraraka’s hand went to the side of Bakugou’s face, palm to his cheek and guiding him to look back at her.

“I’m fine,” she nodded, “just take it a little slower right now,” she said, a little nervous with a soft laugh to ease her discomfort of their eyes meeting.

“You sure?” he asked once more.

“Yeah,” she replied, Bakugou once again moving his hips, a slow roll to gauge her reaction. Uraraka’s head fell back into the pillow, hand tight in his bicep. “Yes, like that,” she approved, and he smirked.

Bakugou bent onto his elbows, arms snaking behind her back and propping her up into his arms. Uraraka squeaked, the sighing as she sunk down onto his length.

“What are you doing?” she asked, all the while, rocking herself back and forth. Bakugou grit his teeth, breathing out a moan into her chest before looking up at her with a satisfied grin.

“I can’t do all the work, round face,” he said. She leaned down, hands either side of his face, kissing him in a slow, deliberate manner - making them both savour it.

Everything was slow, Uraraka’s pace, soft strides to ease her into it - or perhaps it was the way he hissed everytime she moved, liking the way he sounded, much like he had done to her. Then, she gained confidence and speed, hips jerking in a quicker pace, before she just tried to gain satisfaction by any means possible. She was glorious.

He could feel her unwinding, with every move, and every bounce back onto his cock, he could feel her walls clamping down around him. Whenever she moved down upon him, he’d trust him, making her jump a little in his lap. Before either of them knew it, Uraraka cried out, clutching Bakugou to her chest, hands winding into his hair as she panted out moan after moan.

She sounded like a symphony - gorgeous at her ecstasy. Bakugou watched her move on top of him, her hands stroking through his hair as her eyes looked into his own. He’d never had sex like it - something that made him feel understood, that every movement, all the pace, it was perfect to know who they were between them. Bakugou never wanted to watch anyone else on top of his cock ever again, not unless they looked as beautiful as she did.

In a moment, between his utter wonder and the growing need to come completely undone, Uraraka pulled hard into Bakugou’s hair. He hissed and Uraraka moaned, arching into his new position wonderfully well and he wanted to just take everything he had left in him and please her to every extent he could.

Two could play at that game. He may not have been able to move as fast as he could have liked, but he knew she’d not protest to it. With his hand moving up her back, he took a fistful of her hair and pulled, her neck exposed to him, and fuck he felt hungry for it. His mouth descended upon it, sucking and kissing at her throat, feeling the vibrations of every moam against his tongue. He loved it, and Uraraka knew he enjoyed it too much - especially with every thrust he added to make her close to her next orgasm.

“No fair,” she hissed. Bakugou thrust into her again, and she moaned, pulling at his hair once more, but it was much lighter than it once had been.

“All’s fucking fair game,” he smirked, feeling Uraraka’s hand on his thigh. He thought she may need to lay back down when her finger suddenly bound into his leg, making him jerk upwards into her. She moaned, biting her lip and smiling down at him. “Fuck!” Bakugou groaned, looking back at her.

“All’s fucking fair game,” she repeated his words. Bakugou bit his lip, thrusting into her again, watching as she circled her hips down onto him again.

“If you weren’t injured, I’d -”

“You’d what?” she replied with a smirk, and between his heart bounding like a drum, and his head screaming, he knew he couldn’t stop himself.

“Fuck it,” Bakugou muttered, pushing his weight onto Uraraka’s and onto her back once more, thrusting in one long and hard motion. It wasn’t until after that he thought of his mistake - his lust getting the best of him. Uraraka’s hand went to his ass, gripping in hard with her nails enough to make him hiss. He looked at her face, lip between teeth and chest heaving for more.

“I’ll tell you if it hurts, just keep going,” she begged, forcing his hips closer. When he moved inside her again, she guided him in with a hard pull on his ass. It was harder than he would have, but she enjoyed it all the same - eyes closed and body calling to his like they were magnets that hated to be separated.

His mind told him to go slow, to make sure it all lasted how he needed it to - but he’d be damned if he didn’t chase the sound of her desperate moans to get his own satisfaction. Her next orgasm came over her quickly, her teeth went into his shoulder to suppress the sound, but it did little to help, other than to spur Bakugou on. Her legs went over his hips, heels at the base of his thigh and urging his ass forward with every move he made.

Intimacy was lost on Bakugou, he never liked how he felt being within it, but Uraraka made it all different somehow. When her hand snaked down his arm from his shoulder blade, her caught her wrist, holding it down onto the bed. And he found himself wanting. Like he’d never wanted something so badly in his life. His pressure on her slim wrist went slack, and his fingers slid into her palm, binding into the gaps of her fingers. Uraraka held on tight, their joined hands going over her head as Bakugou continued to stride within her.

She made sure they kissed every few seconds, whining until she could kiss him again, becoming louder and louder to get him to silence her with one of his bruising kisses. Uraraka was using him like a puppet, but he didn’t care - she was heaven to be inside, her body a wonderful combination of sweat and silk and his body was to blame for half of it.

“Oh god,” Uraraka cried, her free hand back in his hair, body moving against his again. He could feel her hardened nipples against his chest with every movement, and he wanted to put his mouth all over her body again. Taste every inch of her. Uraraka whined, hand on his cheek, nails piercing skin behind his ear and on his jaw. “I’m gonna -”

She didn’t even get to finish her sentence, her release rocking through her in waves that made her hips jerk over and over again until Bakugou was following her. He held tight to her hand, the other was gripping tight into her thigh - unable to bring himself to move as he could his release come and go.

“Fuck,” he panted into her chest, trying hard to let her go, but it was no use, he’d drown in her skin before he’d let her move an inch.

Eventually, he had to - lying beside her as she moved to be on his chest. She was practically asleep by the time he’d shifted into his spot next to her.

“You good?” he asked her.

“Hm?” she replied, “Yeah, yeah. Just tired.”

Bakugou shifted, aiming to leave. “Do you need me to -”

“If you move, I’ll kill you,” she warned, hands tight on his body as she held him close.

“Fucking fine, round face,” he said, letting her rest back onto his chest. He smiled, his own exhaustion following hers.

~*~*~

When he woke up, there was hair in his mouth. He threw his head back, spitting it out with a scowl and wincing when it flopped wetly onto his neck. A heavy weight lay on his side, numbing his arm under the pressure. His eyes struggled to open fully, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw the hazlenut hair he was very much used to.

Uraraka.

Holy fucking shit.

Bakugou groaned and slowly pulled his arms back only to stop dead still when she shifted. He waited, tense and holding his breath until she settled back down, soft snores puffing out onto his arm.

He tried again, and after a very slow escape over the next several minutes, he was free. Slipping from the sheets he staggered into the bathroom, took one look in the mirror at his neck covered in hickies, his hair a fucking mess and cheeks flushed - and barely recognised himself. There was no way his eyes should look that bright, or lips that swollen.

He’d had sex with his partner.

He splashed cold water on himself, and contemplated drowning himself in the sink. He could do this - it was just a moment of passion right? Happened all the time - or so he’d seen in all his mums shitty romcoms.

He could still feel her breathe against his face, hear the way she’d whispered his name. Feel her nails down his chest and the soft whimpers of her release echoing in his ear.

How the fuck was he meant to work like this? They were going to have to… to talk about this.

Holy fucking shit was right.

~*~*~

Bakugou hated quiet, and even with the sound of his pacing footsteps, it was all too much. He had half a mind to wake Uraraka from her sleep, or possibly just sit in her room to hear the fucker snore. Instead, he waited until the pot of coffee had fully brewed and made himself a mug. The rest of it waited for Uraraka to crawl her ass out of bed. It had been nearly two hours since he left, and she was still sound asleep.

He always knew she was a heavy sleeper, but it was like trying to wake to goddamn dead. He had went through most of her things, trying to entertain himself before he had to leave for work, and no matter how much noise he unintentionally made - she stayed in bed. The light of morning was peeking through her curtains, drawing a veil over most of her apartment and casting a glow on Uraraka that was criminal. Gorgeous was not the right word to describe her.

On his way to the kitchen hours before, he picked up his trail of clothes, putting on some as he walked past Uraraka’s. He was unsure of what the fuck to do with hers - was he supposed to pick them up? They were partners and it had been a habit before, long nights and untidy people tend to amount of a clean up when nights were done. But this was different. A line was crossed. They were more than partners.

Regret was something that was new to Bakugou, but he knew this wasn’t it. He stood in her kitchen and came to the conclusion that this was not something he’d ever regret. As far as the sex went, it was fucking great. It might’ve been the best he’d ever had. Maybe it was because he knew her, understood what her reactions could be and learning all new things about someone that he cared for. He wanted her to feel as good as he did.

Yet, what else would come of this? Was there a relationship there? Was he even ready for something like that? It wasn’t like he had one before to gauge what the fuck this even meant. His personality and overall work ethic was a pretty hard thing to deal with for most people. Uraraka was one of the only people that knew him, and still stuck around after. There was a trust between them, a fit that neither of them expected.

What did she even want? Was this all just heat of the moment?

He was about two seconds from marching into her room and finally dragging her out of bed when his phone chimed.

Shitty Hair: U need to come into work. Boss wants to see u

Bakugou rolled his eyes, gripping tight to his phone as he contemplated his next step. He took the remnants of his coffee and poured it down the sink, washing the mug briefly before putting on the remainder of his clothes. When he fixed his jacket over his shoulders, he stopped and saw into Uraraka’s room. She was curled into her sheets peacefully, and Bakugou grit his teeth.

When Kirishima texted again, Bakugou didn’t have time.

He left her apartment and went straight into work.

They could talk later.

He just wasn’t ready yet.

#kacchako #kacchako fic #bakugou x uraraka #uraraka x bakugou #my fics #the stakeout

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sweetlyocs · 5 years ago

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sunshine

«part four» pairing: sam holland x reader / abusive ex! OC x reader words: 2k warnings: hospitals, abusive relationship, anxiety attack, blood and bruising a/n: the fourth paarttt! this has taken a little bit, but we are saving all of you from seeing the details, for now... please be cautious if you haven’t read the other chapters head over to the masterlist in my bio for them, or click here

You could feel your phone buzzing in your hand, the contact names constantly appearing on your screen were giving you a headache. You knew that they were worried, you knew that they were scared. They needed answers but you weren’t prepared to give them up yet, you could barely register what was going on yourself. Your mind was whirling and it felt like your entire world was imploding on itself. Sighing softly, you looked out the window of Tom and Harrison’s apartment as you pulled up your texts with Sam,

Sam: where r u? ur freaking me out sunshine, u never came back.. yn: I had to leave.. I couldn’t stay u know that. I’m battered and bruised and bleeding bear.. Sam: u need to go to the hospital.. mum’s taking pads home and I’m coming to get u. yn: sam I want to be alone please, just leave me be. Sam: no way in hell. U faced this entire situation on ur own and it almost killed u. im not letting u do this alone, not any more. yn: I’m at Toms..

You stood in the kitchen with the kettle boiling away as you tried to process all of what had happened.. what if Sam had been seriously hurt? What if Tom hadn’t been able to be pulled off Jace? Why didn’t you leave him.. hell you were still wearing your dress. It was a shame that it had been ruined, you hadn’t felt this beautiful in a while.

It took Sam all of twenty minutes to reach you, he more than certainly had broken a few laws driving there but seeing him burst through that door, hair wild and looking like the weight of the world fell off his shoulders was all it took to bring you back to tears.

“I’m sorry..” was all you were able to let out as you fell into his arms.

“Shh..shhh… it’s okay, your okay. I got you. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you, I’m sorry you had to go through all of this alone..”

Seeing you like this broke Sam’s heart, he loved you. He loved you more than words could explain. You were always there for him, you always encouraged him to be his own person, make his own mistakes. You picked him up when he fell and would be his number one fan every time he soared.

Pulling back he stared deep into your eyes, smiling he as he gave you a kiss on your temple.

“Let’s get you out of that dress and into some different clothes, I’ve got a pair of your old dance shorts and I brought you one of my sweaters. We need to get you to a hospital okay, I need to know that your okay… physically anyway.”

The drive to the hospital was silent, you could feel Sam glancing at you from time to time. You didn’t know what to think.. you had been stuck in this situation for so long that while you felt free, free from Jace, free from being stuck in a never ending cycle but there was still so much that could go wrong. What if they left you when they found out all the horrible things that had actually happened to you? What if you were broken forever? Damaged goods that no one would ever want? What if the best that you could do was someone like Jace, he was perfect in every way to a lot of people. Sure you had an ever evolving career but what if you were so badly injured in so many ways that you couldn’t keep going…

Pulling up to a park at the hospital was daunting,

“They’re going to ask a lot of questions sunshine”

“I know…”

“They’re probably going to want you to report it too”

“I know Sam..”

“Are you ready?”

“Not in the slightest actually. I think I’m fine with all this superficial pain and bruising, I’ll probably be able to cover it up soon enough with some makeup. It’s worked before…”

Sam let out a deep sigh, he didn’t want you to be this façade anymore. He wanted you to let down your guard, he wanted you to feel safe enough to feel vulnerable around him. Slowly but surely you both got out of the car and began walking towards the entrance, it was beginning to get pretty late and by first glance at the emergency ward, it was actually pretty empty.

“Can I help you at all?” The voice of the triage nurse made you take a steep breathe in, you could feel your hands beginning to shake as you felt the urge to make a beeline towards the exit. You couldn’t do this, who did you think you are? Surely if you walk away, no. Run, run away, you could catch up with Jace.. a bit of grovelling and him getting the initial anger out and you’d be fine. You were insane to think that you could just say that you were done and it would be that.

“Hi, I want my friend to get checked out, her boyfriend, I mean, her ex kinda lost it when she tried to break up with him and I just want to make sure she’s okay..”

Sam’s voice sounded like he was yelling, you turned to face him with the look of complete and utter disbelief on your face. Was he insane! He just outed you to a complete stranger, and he didn’t break a sweat. The nurse softly turned her eyes towards you and briefly looked over the injuries that she could see, as she began typing away on her computer you pinched Sam’s arm, hard. As he whipped his head to you, as the two of you began to have a very silent but thundering screaming match between your eyes and expressions. You questioning him as to what the hell he was thinking and him to you about why the bloody hell you pinched him that hard! You had acrylics for christs sake and it hurt.

The nurse clearing her throat broke you out of your silent argument,

“I’m going to get them to take you straight through, we have private assessment rooms and that’s where a nurse is fully going to assess you okay darling. Now would you prefer a female or male nurse?”

“Female please, only if it isn’t too much hassle”

She sent you a quick and kind smile as she typed a few more things,

“Just head over to that door there and I’ll let you in”

Nodding your head, you and Sam began silently shuffling towards the door, you could hear displeased voices of other patients waiting to be seen, the chatter of nurses and beeping of machines. As the door let out a buzz, unlocking itself you reached out for Sam’s hand. Gripping it tightly you turned your head,

“Don’t you dare leave me, please.”

“Trust me sunshine, I’m not going anywhere.”

Walking past the stations and patients lying in beds, you could feel yourself growing more and more anxious. It felt like every eye in the room turned to stare you down, at this stage Sam was probably losing all circulation to his hand but you couldn’t bring yourself to give a damn. You were scared, terrified even. What if the nurse didn’t believe you? What if they called the police and they told you that you were making it all up because Jace seemed like the perfect man. The perfect boyfriend. Why did this feel like the biggest mistake of your life…

Sam thanked the nurse as she left you two in the room, shutting the door to block out the rest of the ward, as she left she softly stated that the nurse would be with you soon and that she was off now, but to call out if you needed anything or felt worse for wear. You didn’t see her give Sam a soft motherly pat on his shoulder, or the eye watering smile that she sent in your direction as you lost yourself in your mind. You were too focused on not have a breakdown because of the weight of the situation.

“You need to sit down before you give yourself an anxiety attack or collapse from holding your breathe” Sam walked towards you as he willed his hands to stop shaking, you needed him to be strong. You needed him to be calm and collected so that if you lost your mind you had someone to pick up the pieces and help you put yourself back together. As you sat and waited on the bed, you looked at Sam. Really looked at him.

His body was tense, his eyes were hardened but when he looked at you all you could see was love and warmth. His hands would close in and out of fists and when he would close his eyes he would take deep and sometimes shaky breaths.

“Take a picture it lasts longer” Sam looked you at as the words left his lips and a smirk grew on his face. You let out a laugh and couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as you got a taste of the Sam you know. For the first time since you woke up you felt at complete and utter ease, it felt like you were normal, that you were you again. Just as you were going to reply the door opened,

“Hi yn, I’m Angela, your nurse. How you feeling?” She seemed nice, her voice was soft, but it still threw you. The question brought some uneasiness and weight back into the room. Here you were laughing and smiling when your throat was covered in a red and purple discolouration and your face had dried blood tracking down onto your neck.

“Fine. I’m fine…” You had never heard your voice so weak, it was easy to sense your fear. Sam came and sat on the bed with you, holding your hand as the nurse moved across the floor with all the supplies.

“So, what happened. I need to know exactly what went down for you to get all that bruising and blood, so I know how to treat it. Your safe here, it’s okay”

You held your eyes shut, willing yourself to disappear, praying that it would all just go away. Sam could feel you beginning to shake, your breathing was become uneven and flowing at a rapid pace. You were having a breakdown, you were terrified.

“yn if you don’t tell her she can’t help. She wants to help you sunshine…”

Sam was at a loss, he’d never seen you so terrified, how badly had Jace screwed you over?

“yn, look at me. Look at me honey.” Angela was standing in front of you now, her brow creasing and her movements slow, “you’re okay. I’m not going to hurt you, but I need to know what happened. You could be seriously hurt and you not saying anything could make it worse. I don’t have to know details, but we need to fix you up. This bruising is telling me that you’ve got a lot of swelling okay, and with it being at your throat there needs to be things that I check, things that I need to make sure aren’t damaged or at risk of causing more harm. And those cuts, the ones under all the blood, there’s a lot of bruising there too. I need to know what caused it so I can get an idea of how deep they are, how bad they are. I want you to get better so please, work with me here. I want to make sure that you’re going to be leaving here safe, I know the idea of the police and this being reported is scary for you but you getting better. You healing, that’s what’s important.. do you understand?”

Slowly you began opening your eyes, you were okay. Jace wasn’t here, but Sam was. You were safe with Sam. As you sat back and centred yourself, you realised.. you didn’t need to be afraid anymore, as long as you had someone who loved you, you would be okay.

“Okay”

if you want to be added to the taglist please send me an ask! taglist: @upsidedownspidey @dottirose @distressedhollandfield @allthedifferentfandoms @malecftw @barnacleb0i @mrslukehemmings00 @jackiehollanderr @babygirl-4986 @yo-sugg

#sam holland imagine #sam holland fic #sunshine fic #tom holland imagines #tom holland fic #sam holland #peter parker imagine #reader insert #sam holland x reader

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danganronpaimagineslol-blog · 6 years ago

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Danganronpa Imagine | V3 girls getting jealous and their S/O reassuring them (2/2)

A/N: Here’s the second half, thanks for your patience!

Angie, Tsumugi, Tenko, and Himiko x S/O

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: N/A

Requests are closed at the moment!

Angie Yonaga

“Ya-hoo! S/O, over here!” In her usual sing-song voice, Angie called over her S/O.

“Oh, Angie, what’s up? What did you wanna talk about?”

In the morning before school, Angie’s S/O had received a text message from the Ultimate Artist.

6:37 AM: 💖 Angie 💖: gooooooooood morning, s/o! did u sleep well???? i sure did! btw can u meet me after school today??

6:41 AM: You: gm! yeah, i slept fine and of course, cant wait to see you!

6:41 AM: 💖 Angie 💖: nyahaha, im happy to hear it~! bye-onara, see u later!! (✿´‿`)

They had proceeded to be a nervous wreck the entire day, wondering what Angie could possibly be calling them over for. ...Maybe a date? they optimistically considered.

“Well, S/O, Angie has called you here today because Atua is mad and disappointed with you,” she stated as casually as if she were announcing the weather.

Oh.

Despite not even really believing in Atua themself, her S/O still felt the slightest bit offended. “W-what did I do?”

“Nyahahaha, there’s no use playing dumb, for Atua knows all!” Her S/O winced as Angie stared intensely, almost unsettlingly, into their eyes. “But if you really forgot, then Angie supposes it won’t hurt to remind you!”

“Uh, yes, please, er, r-remind me...?”

“To put it simply, you tricked Atua. You promised loyalty and devotion to only His vessel, yet you let yourself be defiled at the hands of another woman!” The artist’s cheerful demeanor didn’t match her words at all.

“I was... defiled?” They frowned.

“Right-o! That short brunette tainted you with her constant hugs and touches!” Angie sounded legitimately concerned before perking up instantly. “It’s quite alright though! If you’re sacrificed soon enough, Atua will purify your soul and welcome you!”

“Angie, wait! Slow down!” Surprisingly enough, the artist did simmer down and allow them time to think. A short brunette that hugs me a lot? ...Ah, I remember now.

“It’s not what you think! That girl, she’s, like, obsessed with me or something. I push her away, yet she always returns. I promise you, I’m not seeing anyone but you, Angie,” her S/O frantically explained, a tad scared for their life.

“Oh, then you won’t have any trouble with her anymore!” she exclaimed with a huge grin. “Atua said that He really liked her blood sacrifice!”

“Wha-?! A-Angie, did you-?!”

“Nyahaha, of course not! Angie’s just joking!” She laughed lightheartedly, and her S/O let a sigh of relief escape their lips. “Besides, Angie remembers her promise to you. Y’know, the one where she can’t make any more sacrifices, no matter how much He wants one?” the artist pouted.

“Y-yes, I remember, and I’m super duper grateful,” her S/O laughed nervously.

“Still... Something must be done about that girl, don’tcha think, S/O?” she wondered. “Anyone who stands between our sacred love must be dealt with! ...So says Atua.”

Her S/O blinked. “Wow, Atua really doesn’t like that girl, huh?”

“He says she gives Him bad vibes,” Angie said with a shrug.

“Angie...” they began slowly, not knowing quite how to phrase their question. “Are you sure that, well, Atua’s really the one who dislikes the girl? Like, it’s not you that’s annoyed with her?”

Before the two had started dating, her S/O had learned that Angie had difficulty differentiating her own emotions from Atua’s. However, at the time, she was convinced all her emotions and actions were because of the god. Despite this, after hanging out with her for several weeks, her S/O was soon to pinpoint some emotions that were definitely Angie’s own: for example, her love for them.

“Nyahaha, who knows? Atua works in mysterious ways!”

Her S/O bit back a grimace. Normally they loved her chipper, eccentric personality, but this really was a serious moment. “Look, let’s try to talk this out before... you do something you regret to that girl.”

“Sounds good!” she agreed.

“So, when the girl gets really touchy with me, it annoys you, right?”

“Right-o!” Angie sang.

Her S/O bit back an amused smile. “Angie, are you... jealous?”

The Ultimate Artist blinked. “Hmm, that’s certainly a plausible verdict! After all, Atua gets very lonely when you don’t play with Him!”

I’ve hit the nail on the head, it seems. “Hey, Angie, if you’re getting jealous, you can just tell me, y’know? No more of this, uh, Atua-being-mad-at-me stuff.”

The artist appeared to think this over but said nothing in response, so her S/O continued.

“I’ll give that girl one final warning to change her ways, alright?” They smiled. “And I want you to know that the day I stop loving you is the day I die.”

“Aww, that’s no good, S/O! There’s still the afterlife to think about!”

“Ah, right.” Her S/O laughed.

“Angie has already secured a nice spot in the afterlife since she’s a platinum disciple, but she worries about you!” She took their hands in her’s. “Angie will pray for you too, so we can be together forever!”

Her S/O softly smiled and squeezed her hands. Even if the Ultimate Artist was a bit weird in expressing her love, her affection for her S/O was nonetheless loud and clear. To let someone like her become jealous of another girl... I must be the worst partner ever, they thought regretfully.

“I love you, Angie. Don’t ever worry about anyone else coming between us, okay? You’re all I need, in this life and the next,” they reassured.

“Angie better be, lest Atua release His wrath upon you!” Despite sounding menacing, her words were full of love. She giggled and jumped on her S/O, squeezing him into a tight hug.

“Atua loves... No, Atua and Angie love you too!”

Tsumugi Shirogane

“Tsumugi, I've noticed you've been scratching at your skin for a while now. do you want some moisturizer or something like that?”

Tsumugi’s S/O didn’t want to bring her reddish skin up for fear of offending her, but they were starting to feel bad for the cosplayer. Scratching and twitching uncomfortably for the past hours or so; it really was a bit concerning. Plus, since she was currently a guest at their home, they felt responsible for making her as comfortable as possible.

“Thanks for offering, but I’ve already tried lotion earlier and this rash didn’t go away,” the Ultimate Cosplayer replied.

Her S/O blinked. A persistent rash all over her body? Sounds oddly similar to cospox... they thought. However, as far as they could tell, despite a slight change in style, Tsumugi didn’t seem to be dressed too similarly to anyone else they knew. However, speaking of which...

“Tsumugi, I’ve noticed that you turned to pastel yellows and pinks, rather than your usual blue uniform. Can I ask why? Oh, not that there’s anything wrong with this new look! You look great!” they added quickly.

“Oh!” The Ultimate Cosplayer seemed unprepared for this question, not to mention a little uncomfortable. “Well, thank you! Yeah, I, uh, just got inspiration from this new anime that aired a while ago. There were, um, lots of pastels, and I thought it would be, er, cool to switch up from being so plain all the time.”

Ah, of course, Tsumugi and her otaku interests. In fact, their shared interest in mainstream and obscure media was what brought them together in the first place. “Oh, cool. What’s the anime? I may have seen it,” her S/O asked.

If Tsumugi wasn’t nervous before, now she truly was. Being who she was, she should’ve been able to pull out any pastel-themed anime out of her brain like it was nothing, but her thoughts were currently a jumbled mess.

“I-I, well, it’s, I f-forget the name... You know, i-it’s, I...?” she sputtered. She began scratching at her skin a bit more.

“Ts-Tsumugi, are you okay? You’re pretty pale and sweating quite a bit; are you sick?” her S/O asked, concerned.

“Y-you know what? Be right back.” Tsumugi suddenly picked up her backpack and trekked into the bathroom, leaving her bewildered S/O behind on the couch.

A few minutes later she reappeared, but this time she was back in her blue uniform, the old pastels nowhere to be found.

“Ah-? Tsumugi, you didn’t need to change! Sorry if my question made you uneasy-”

“No, don’t worry about it, you didn’t do anything.” She sighed.

Tsumugi’s S/O was about to inquire her more, but then they noticed something very odd. Her skin...? It’s no longer red, they realized. No, this can’t just be a coincidence.

They cleared their throat. “Uh, were you, by chance, cosplaying as someone real...?”

Bullseye. A jump and an expression of horror was all the confirmation they needed.

“Tsumugi...” they began, confused.

“I can explain,” she interrupted. Her panicked state had promptly vanished, replaced with a face of solemnness and almost... resent?

“I’ve seen you hanging around that other girl, you know. The one with the frilly pastel outfits,” she said calmly, looking directly at her S/O. “At first, I tried to ignore it. But then she started giving you hugs like it was nothing, and I was... I was just plain terrified she was taking you from me.”

Tsumugi’s S/O’s eyes widened. They opened their mouth to reply, but the cosplayer continued.

“So I took her pastel style and incorporated it into some outfits to wear. I didn’t think it would be enough to trigger my cospox, but I guess really deep down, my body knew that what I was doing wasn’t right.” She laughed softly. “In hindsight, this really was an awful plan. I know that you’re not someone to fall for looks, especially clothing, but I guess I was just... desperate. Desperate for any possible way to keep you.”

“Tsumugi, that girl and I are just friends. Those were platonic hugs, but if they make you uncomfortable, I can stop,” they suggested.

"Oh, no, no, it's fine. I'm just being overdramatic. It's my fault for being so plain possessive," she replied bitterly.

It suddenly clicked in her S/O's mind. This feeling of resent emanating from the cosplayer, it wasn't directed at their friend. She was mad at herself.

Before the cosplayer could utter any more self-deprecating words, they swiftly swooped her into a tight embrace. “You’re not being overdramatic or possessive at all. I’m sorry for not noticing what was going on.”

Tsumugi buried her face into their chest, eyes beginning to brim with tears. “You’re... You’re not mad at me?” She suddenly faced upwards, staring right into her S/O’s eyes. “Y-you should be mad! This is- I’m unforgivable.”

Tsumugi’s S/O comfortingly ran their fingers through her hair. “Of course not I’m not mad. In fact, knowing that you care so much about me, it’s touching.” They laughed softly. “Tsumugi, you can’t control your feelings, so try not to beat yourself up about this, okay?”

“I...” Feeling embarrassed, she retreated back into the safety and comfort of her S/O’s warm chest. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Just promise me that if you’re uncomfortable about anything ever, always feel free to talk to me about it. I won’t ever blame you for anything,” they reassured.

Although muffled, her S/O was able to hear Tsumugi murmur a quiet, “I promise.”

Tenko Chabashira

Tenko and her S/O sat at their usual hangout spot during lunch. Although a few of their friends also hung around them, they tended to only talk to one another. After all, due to a lack of shared classes, lunch and break became their only chances to interact during the school day.

The two made light conversation about nothing in particular, instead focusing mostly on their lunches. However, a few minutes into lunch, another girl came jogging up to Tenko’s S/O, a bit out of breath. This mystery girl had never approached their lunch group before, but no one really minded her presence.

“Oh, S/O...! I was... looking everywhere for you!” She hunched over, breathing heavily.

The Ultimate Aikido Master cocked an eyebrow at her S/O. “Oh, is she your friend?”

“Yeah, she’s in most of my classes, actually,” they replied and turned to face the girl. “Do you need something?”

She straightened up and cleared her throat. “Nothing in particular. Just wanted to hang out with you this lunch!” The girl took their hand in her’s and beamed.

Tenko’s S/O shot a glance at the martial artist and noticed her tensing up. Shaking the girl off their hand with an awkward laugh, they blinked uneasily. “Well, sure, of course you can. But don’t you usually hang out with your own friend group?”

The newcomer took a few steps back, lip trembling. “A-are you asking b-b-because you want me to g-go back to them...?” Her eyes began watering, which caused them to start panicking.

“W-what?! No, that’s not what I-”

“Hahaha, I’m just joking! Chill out, dude!” The girl playfully pinched their cheek, resulting in a barely audible “Tch.” from Tenko.

“Yeah, my friends all just went to the library to study, but I have, like, no homework or upcoming tests, so I decided to not join them,” she explained. “So I ran all over campus trying to find you!” At the last word, the girl lightly tapped them on the nose.

She proceeded to plop down right in between the Tenko and her S/O, much to the Aikido master’s irritation. In fact, Tenko didn’t even bother hiding her face of pure disgust; either the girl didn’t notice or didn’t care.

She continued practically swooning over Tenko’s S/O, resting her head on their shoulder, giving them impromptu hugs, among other things. Right as Tenko felt her temper about to snap, she quickly stood up, looked the girl dead in the eye, and asked her to leave in the most polite way she could muster.

“Sorry, but I’ll have to ask you to leave,” she declared matter-of-factly.

Her S/O and the girl both turned to face her.

“Huh? How come?” the newcomer pouted.

“I have something to discuss with S/O.”

The other girl opened her mouth to protest, but Tenko’s S/O spoke up quickly. “Yeah, I think you should go. Sorry.”

She blinked at them in surprise, looking back and forth between the two people ushering her to leave. Finally, after a few seconds, she packed her things and walked off with a huff.

“...Are you two really just friends? She seemed a bit too friendly to me.” The question sounded more like an accusation.

“What? Of course we’re just friends!” Tenko’s S/O looked a bit offended by even the suggestion. “And I agree, she was really raising some red flags...”

“Then why didn’t you push her away?” she inquired. “You know, tell her that you were uncomfortable?”

“S-sorry, I probably should’ve said something. I just didn’t really wanna be rude.”

Tenko scoffed. “She was the one who was being rude, not respecting your personal space like that!”

Her S/O furrowed their brows in contemplation. Although admittedly not very calm to begin with, they had only ever seen the Ultimate Aikido Master get this fired up around “degenerate males.” Something about the girl had really rubbed Tenko the wrong way.

“...Hey, you know I can take care of myself, right?” her S/O slowly spoke up. After running through a list of possible reasons for her behavior, they felt that maybe her protective instincts had taken control. “If she had gone any farther, I could defend myself just fine.”

“I... That’s not it.” Tenko shook her head.

“Oh. Then, uh, what is it?”

“I know you can protect yourself. I’m not scared of that sort of thing. It, well...” She sighed. “Fine, it bothers me when she acts so buddy-buddy with you.”

Tenko had never been one to hide her emotions, which her S/O was thankful for, especially in situations like this. Communication was never a problem between the two.

“I mean, who does she is? Basically throwing herself on top of you, especially when your girlfriend is less than one foot away?! That’s classic degenerate male behavior!” She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.

Her S/O laughed as she spouted her catchphrase. “So what you’re telling me is... You’re jealous?”

They were just joking, but the martial artist’s face reddened. “M-me? Jealous?! Jealousy is an emotion for degenerate males that are too possessive over their partners, and as such, I c-can’t possibly be... j-jealous...”

She faltered, realization dawning on her face. So she wasn’t hiding it on purpose. She just... Didn’t know? her S/O thought, amused.

“Haha, hey, Tenko, it’s okay if you’re jealous. Feeling that way doesn’t make you stoop down to a, well, ‘degenerate male’s’ level,” they reassured her.

“So, Master was wrong then?”

He’s wrong about a lot of things, her S/O stopped themself before it slipped out of their mouth. “Well, yeah, you can’t control your feelings. I’m glad you told me about this, really.”

Tenko visibly relaxed, a huge invisible weight taken off her shoulders.

“Hey, next time I come across her, I’ll tell her to stop calm down a bit with all the physical contact. And Tenko, I want you to know that you’re my number one and always will be. I’m... I’m sorry that you had to feel jealous in the first place. You wouldn’t have felt that way if I communicated my feelings more...”

“S/O, don’t blame yourself!” she cheerfully demanded. “If you have time to sulk in regret, you have time to change for the better! That’s what Master always told me! ...Or is that also wrong?” she second-guessed herself.

Her S/O laughed and swept her into a loving embrace. “No, that’s correct,” they said softly in her ear. “I’ll start changing now then... Tenko, I love you. I love your enthusiasm, your pep-talks, sensitive side, everything. You’re the only one for me.”

She almost completely melted in embarrassment right in their arms. “I l-love you too, S/O!” she determinedly declared, hoping the waver in her voice went unnoticed.

A few intimate seconds passed before they reluctantly pulled apart. Tenko fidgeted with her fingers. “I... I kind of feel bad for your classmate. I should go apologize.”

“Oh, ah, right. Haha, I’ll go with you.”

Himiko Yumeno

“S/O, are you ready for some more magic?!” Himiko asked with over-the-top enthusiasm.

“Himiko, that’s the sixth one in a row. Are you sure you’re not tired?” The magician’s mage’s S/O had been invited over to Himiko’s house after school and had since been bombarded by an onslaught of magic displays. Of course, they didn’t mind at all. In fact, they loved seeing Himiko so passionate, but it was a bit out of character. She usually complained about being out of MP after the first or second demonstration.

“Of course not. Today the planets are all aligned so I’m surging with magical power,” she matter-of-factly replied.

“Oh, uh, right.” Her S/O felt that such a phenomenon would’ve definitely made the headlines of hundreds of news networks, but they decided not to comment on it. “Himiko, you know what? We should have a quick break. Even with your boosted MP, a little intermission never hurts, right?”

“Nyeh...” The mage hesitated for a bit but ultimately nodded. “You’re right.”

Her S/O subtly breathed a sigh of relief. Even if Himiko felt as if she could take on the world right now, they still didn’t want her accidentally overexerting herself.

They settled down at the dining room table. The mage had practically deflated after plopping down on a chair, so her S/O found and boiled some tea themself. The two made light conversation, but mostly silently enjoyed each other’s company.

However, the moment they finished their tea, Himiko quickly shot up to her legs, wobbling a bit. “Time to continue the magic show!” she announced.

“Wait, s-slow down!” Her S/O swiftly scooped up the two cups and deposited them in the sink. “Himiko, I know you said that your MP’s all boosted, but are you sure that’s the only reason you’re doing so many demonstrations?” Planetary alignment or not, the mage had never shown so much enthusiasm before. Even when at official performances, she was never this excited.

“N-nyeh? What do you mean?” she stuttered.

“You usually start saying ‘It’s a pain...’ after just one trick,” they pointed out.

“Trick?”

“Er, sorry, I meant after one display of magic. My point still stands though.”

Himiko furrowed her brows in defiance. “I-I told you, the planets are all aligned today, s-so-”

“Himiko,” they chided. “Are you positive that’s the whole truth? I won’t be mad if it’s not.”

“I-I-I-I’m n-not lying! O-o-of c-course it’s...” The mage faltered. “F-fine, that might not the whole reason,” she slowly admitted.

“Oh.” Although her S/O knew something was up, they hadn’t expected Himiko to actually admit it. “So, uh, what is it?”

“It kinda has to do with this other girl,” she murmured. “Y’know, the tall, purple-haired one that’s super good at sports? She’s, like, on the track and swimming team.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that girl. What about her?”

“W-well, I kept on seeing her hang around you. I didn’t really care at first, but then I started noticing her always touching you, like jumping on you or using your lap as a pillow. And you weren’t pushing her away, either,” Himiko sulked.

“I... I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was bothering you. I’ll tell her to knock it off.” Her S/O awkwardly scratched the back of their neck. “But what does this have to do with you performing more magic lately?”

“When I saw how you kept on hanging out with her, it made me start to think that maybe... Maybe you preferred more athletic, energetic girls. You know, instead of people like me.”

“Himiko...”

“So I decided to try harder. I thought that if you were impressed by how hardworking I was, you w-wouldn’t-” She sniffled. “L-leave me for her.”

“H-Himiko, I’ll never leave you! I wouldn’t be dating you if I didn’t love you for who you are!” her S/O frantically reassured her.

“A-are you sure? I know it must be a pain to be in a relationship with me, s-since I don’t do much...”

“I’m positive. You’re all I’ll ever want and all I’ll ever need. Even if you think that your laziness is annoying, that’s what makes you, well, you. And I love all of you.”

Himiko finally let herself sob. She practically tackled her S/O in a hug, who scooped her into their arms bridal-style. Himiko clung to them and buried her face into their chest, blending together a mishmash of phrases.

“I-I’m sorry-” A hiccup. “I l-love you too, and I was just really scared, and I know I should’ve-”

“Shh, it’s okay, Himiko,” they softly consoled the bawling mage. “I know you must be exhausted, so let’s go sleep.”

Although other couples would think the two weird for literally sleeping on dates, Himiko and her S/O found nothing more comforting than cuddling until one or the other fell asleep by their side.

She stretched and yawned in response, shutting her eyes and tightening her squeeze on them.

Her S/O laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

＊ Mod Chiaki

#danganronpa #dangan ronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa blog #danganronpa imagines blog #danganronpa fluff #danganronpa requests #dr imagines #drv3 #drv3 killing harmony #angie yonaga #tsumugi shirogane #tenko chabashira #himiko yumeno #mod chiaki

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seokpapi-blog · 7 years ago

Text

CHARCOAL (M) | kth

“The thing with Taehyung is that he use his hands a lot while drawing and get his fingers stained with charcoal, a lot. But when I come back home later, I love to see the same black prints all over my body.”

+Pairing: Taehyung x femlale MC ft Seokjin +Genre: College!AU, Artist!kth +Warnings: sexual assault victim +Note: GUYS! This is an adaptation of the book “Easy” by Tammara Webber. I decided to start like this because im not sure of my writing skill yet, so enjoy!

01 02 03 04 05

I dutifully emailed the econ tutor when I got back to the dorm after class, and started on my art history homework. While tapping out a response essay on a neoclassical sculptor and his influence on the style, I mumbled a thank you to my inner neurotic that I’d at least kept up in my non-econ classes.

With Elee at work, I could buckle down to an evening of quiet studying. Here in our microscopic room, she couldn’t help being a near-constant distraction. While I attempted to cram for an algebra test last week, the following conversation took place: “I had to have those pumps for my job, Daddy!” she argued into her cell. “You said you wanted me to learn the value of work while I’m in school, and you always say a person should dress for success, so I’m only trying to follow your words of wisdom.”

When she glanced at me, I rolled my eyes. My roommate was a hostess at a swanky restaurant downtown, a position she frequently used as an excuse for overspending her clothing budget. Three hundred dollar shoes, essential for a job that paid nine bucks an hour? I stifled my laugh when she winked back at me. Her father always caved, especially when she employed the D-word—Daddy.

I wasn’t expecting a quick reply from the tutor. As an upperclassman and a tutor for a huge class like Dr. Park’s, he had to be busy. I was also certain he’d be none too thrilled to assist a failing sophomore who’d skipped the midterm and two weeks of class, and who had never attended one of his tutoring sessions. I was prepared to show him I would work hard to catch up and get out of his hair as quickly as possible.

Fifteen minutes after I emailed him, my inbox dinged. He’d replied, in the same formal tone I’d chosen after.

“Ms. Son, Dr. Park has informed me of your need to catch up in macro and the project you’ll need to complete in order to replace the midterm grade. Since he’s approved you to do this work, there’s no need to share the reason why you’ve fallen so far behind with me. I’m employed as a tutor, so this falls under my job description.

We can meet on campus, preferably in the library, to discuss the project. It’s detailed, and will require a great deal of outside research on your part. I’ve been instructed by Dr. Heller as to the level of assistance I should provide. Basically, he wants to see what you can do, alone. I’ll be available for general questions, of course.My group tutoring sessions are MWTh from 1-2:00, but those cover current material. I assume you’ll need more assistance comprehending the material you missed over the past two weeks. Let me know the times you’re available to meet for individual tutoring sessions and we’ll coordinate from there.

Kim T.”

I clenched my jaw. Though perfectly polite, the tone of his email reeked of condescension… until his signature at the very end: KT. Was he being friendly, or casual, or ridiculing my attempt to sound like a serious, mature student? I read his email again and got even madder. So he thought I was too dumb to comprehend the course material on my own?

“Mr. Kim, I can’t attend your sessions because I have art history MW 1-2:30, and I tutor at the middle school on Thursday afternoons. I live on campus and am available to meet late afternoons Monday/Wednesday, and most evenings. I’m also free on weekends when I’m not tutoring. I’ve begun reading the course material on GDP, CPI, and inflation, and I’m working on the review questions at the end of chapter 9. If you want to meet to pass on the project requirements, I’m sure I can catch up on the regular coursework on my own.

Y/N.”

I pressed send and felt superior for all of about twenty seconds. In actuality, I’d barely glanced at chapter 9. So far, it looked less like comprehensible supply and demand charts, and more like gibberish with dollar signs and confusing shifts tossed in for fun. As for GDP and CPI, I knew what those acronyms signified… Sort of.

Oh, God. I’d just haughtily dismissed the tutor provided by my professor—the professor who wasn’t obligated to give me a second chance, but had.

When my email dinged again, I swallowed before clicking over to it. A new message from Kim T was at the top of my inbox.

“Y/N, If you prefer to catch up on your own, that’s your prerogative, of course. I’ll gather the information on the project and we can meet, say, Wednesday just after 2:00?

Kim T. PS What do you tutor?”

His reply didn’t seem angry. He was civil. Nice, even. I was so emotional lately that I couldn’t judge anything clearly.

“Kim T, I teach private lessons to orchestra students—middle and high school—on the upright bass. I just remembered I agreed to assist in transporting two of my students’ instruments to a program this Wednesday afternoon. (I drive a truck, to accommodate transport of my own instrument, and now I’m constantly inundated with requests to move large musical instruments, sofas, mattresses...)

Are you free any evening? Or Saturday?

Y/N”

I’d been playing the upright bass since I was ten. In fourth grade, one of the orchestra’s two bass players had a pee wee football collision the second weekend of school, resulting in a snapped collarbone. Our orchestra teacher, Mrs. Peabody, had looked out over the vast sea of violin players and pleaded for someone to switch. “Anyone?” she’d squeaked. When no one else volunteered, I raised my hand.

“Honey, isn’t that an odd choice of instrument for a girl to play?” my mother asked. Still petulant over my rejection of learning piano—her instrument of choice—in favor of the violin, she was immediately unsupportive of my new preference.

“Yes.” I glared at my mother and she rolled her eyes.

By the time I was fifteen, I’d reached my full five-and-a-half-foot stature and could perform with a three-quarter sized instrument, no height adjustment needed, though it was a close thing.

For the past year, I’d been giving lessons to local students—all of them boys—each of them some version of smug and impertinent until they heard me play.

"Y/N, Upright bass? Interesting.

I’m busy in the evenings this week, and most weekends as well. I don’t want you to lose time on this, so I’ll send you the project information later tonight, and we can discuss it over email until we can sync our schedules. Will that work for you?

KT. PS – I’ll keep you in mind if I buy a large appliance or need to move.”

“Kim, Thank you, yes—that would be great. (Re: sending the project information, I mean, not your brazen resolution to use me for my truck’s hauling capacity. You’re no better than my friends! They dodge U-Haul rentals and delivery fees, and I get paid in beer.)

Y/N.”

“Y/N, I’ll send the project specifics when I get home, and we can discuss.The barter system is just primitive economics at work, you know. (And are you old enough for beer?)

KT.”

“Kim, Far be it from me to knock an effective use of prehistoric economics. And I suppose friends who pay in beer are better than friends who don’t pay at all. (Re: my age—I don’t believe the job description of Economics Tutor makes you privy to that sort of personal information.)

Y/N”

“Y/N, Touché. I’ll just have to trust you not to get me arrested for supplying alcohol to minors.You’re right—impoverished, auto-lacking college students like myself should respect tried-and-true methods of transport negotiations.

KT.”

I smiled at his candid admission of being carless, my face falling when I contrasted it with the sense of self-importance Seokjin got from his car. Right before we graduated, his parents gave his two-year-old Mustang to his sixteen-year-old brother, who’d wrecked his Jeep the weekend before. As an early graduation gift, they replaced Seokjin’s Mustang with the brand new BMW—sleek and black, with every available upgrade, including plush leather seats and a stereo system I could hear from a block away.

Fuuuuck. I had to stop linking every single thing that happened to me with Seokjin.

********

Arriving a minute before econ began Wednesday morning, the last thing I expected to see was Seokjin, leaning on the wall outside the classroom, exchanging phone numbers with a girl. Giggling after snapping a picture of herself, she handed his phone back. He did the same, grinning down at her.

He would never smile at me like that again.

I didn’t realize I was frozen in place until a classmate shouldered into me, knocking my heavy backpack from my shoulder. “’Excuse me,” he grumbled, his tone more ‘Get the fuck out of the way’ than ‘Sorry I ran into you’.

As I bent to retrieve my backpack, praying Seokjin and his fangirl hadn’t seen me, a hand grasped the strap and swung the pack up from the floor. I straightened and looked into clear brown eyes. “Chivalry isn’t really dead, you know.” His deep, calm voice was just as I remembered from Saturday night, and from Monday afternoon, across the Starbucks counter. “Oh? ”He slipped the strap back onto my shoulder. “Nah. That guy’s just an asshole.” He gestured toward the guy who’d bumped me, but I could have sworn his eyes raked over my ex, too, who was crossing to the door, laughing with the girl. “You okay?” For the third time, this question, from him, held deeper significance than the usual, everyday implication. “Yes, fine.” What could I do but lie? “Thank you.” I turned and entered the room, took my new seat, and spent the first forty-five minutes of class fixing my attention on Dr. Park, the whiteboard he filled, and the notes I took. Dutifully copying charts of short-run equilibrium and aggregate demand, all of it seeming like so much nonsense, I realized I would have to beg my tutor Kim for help after all. My pride would only cause me to slide further behind. Minutes before the end of class, I turned and reached into my backpack as an excuse to sneak a look at the guy on the back row. He was staring at me, a black pencil loose between his fingers, tapping the notebook in front of him. He slouched into his seat, one elbow over the back of it, one booted foot casually propped on the support under his desk. As our eyes held, his expression changed subtly from unreadable to the barest of smiles, though guarded. He didn’t look away, even when I glanced into my bag and then back at him. I snapped forward, my face warming.

Guys had shown interest in me over the past three years, but other than a couple of short-lived, certainly never revealed or acted-upon crushes—one on my own college-aged bass tutor, and another on my chemistry lab partner—I’d not been attracted to anyone but Seokjin. The economics lecture reduced to background babble, I couldn’t decide if my response to this stranger was lingering embarrassment, gratitude that he’d saved me from Junmin, or a simple crush. Perhaps all three.

When class ended, I packed my textbook into my backpack and resisted the urge to look in his direction again. I fiddled long enough for Seokjin and his fangirl to leave. As I stood to go, the persistently sleepy guy who sat next to me spoke.

“Hey, which questions did he say to do for the extra credit? I must have knocked off for a few seconds right around when he discussed those—my notes are indecipherable.” I glanced at the spot he indicated in his notes, and sure enough, the scribbles became less and less readable. “I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“Oh, um, let’s see…” I flipped through my spiral and pointed to the assignment details printed across the top of the page. “Here it is.” As he copied it, I added, “I’m Y/N.”

Jungkook was one of those quite and nice guys, I’ve had seen him talking to his friends these days. He seems relaxed all they time.

“Thanks, Y/N. This saves my ass—I need those extra credit points. See you Friday.” He snapped his notebook closed. “Unless I accidentally sleep in,” he added, giving me a genuine smile.

I returned the smile as I moved into the aisle. “No problem.”

Maybe I was capable of making friends outside of my Seokjin circle. This interaction, along with the defection of most of our friends to Seokjin after the breakup, made me realize how dependent on him I’d become. I was a little shocked. Why had this never occurred to me before? Because I’d never thought Seokjin and I could end?

Foolish, naïve assumption. Obviously.

The room had almost cleared, the guy from the back row included. I felt a stab of irrational disappointment. So he’d stared at me in class—big deal. Maybe he was just bored. Or easily distracted.

But as I exited the room, I spotted him across the crowded hallway, talking with a girl from class. His demeanor was relaxed, from the navy shirt, open over a plain gray t-shirt, to the hand tucked into the front pocket of his jeans. Muscle didn’t show under the unbuttoned long-sleeved shirt, but his abdomen looked flat, and he’d put Junmin on the ground and bloody easily enough Saturday night. His black pencil sat atop one ear, only the pink eraser at the tip showing, the rest disappearing into his dark, messy hair.

“So it’s a group tutoring thing?” the girl asked, twirling a long loop of blonde hair around and around her finger. “And it lasts an hour?”

He hitched his backpack, twitching wayward bangs out of his eyes. “Yeah. From one to two.”

As he gazed down at her, she tilted her head and rocked her weight slightly from side to side, as though she was about to dance with him. Or for him. “Maybe I’ll check it out. What are you doing after?”

“Work.”

She huffed an annoyed breath. “You’re always working, Taehyung.” Her pouty tone hit my ears like nails on a chalkboard, as it always has when used by any girl above age six. But bonus—I’d just learned his name.

He glanced up then, as though he sensed me standing there, eavesdropping, and I pivoted in the opposite direction and started walking swiftly, too late to pretend I hadn’t been purposely listening to their conversation. I wove through the rush of people in the packed hallway, ducking out the side exit.

No way was I going to those tutoring sessions if Taehyung attended them. I wasn’t sure what he meant—if he meant anything at all—staring at me like that during class, but the overt intensity of his gaze made me uneasy.

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