#this analysing shit is fun i should do this more often

[ech0light]

[minhosimthings]

Prideful

Synopsis: You never thought that Lee Heeseung, the man who had proven you wrong in the subject you were best at, would be fucking you on the classroom floor, but here you were.

Pairings: Heeseung × fem!reader, sort of enemies hate sex, includes Sunoo from Enha, and Soojin

Warnings: Smut with plot in the beginning, MINORS DNI, fluffy in the beginning, mention of food, degradation, praise, fingering, oral (f receiving), sex on the floor, unprotected sex (not for you bubs), rough sex, overstimulation, swearing, Heeseung calls reader princess and doll, open ending my babies have fun with that

A/N: idea came into my brain and I thought I'd forget about it and just added it to my wip list but then I was like NOPE IMMA WRITE THIS SHIT. So this makes my third smut for Heeseung (idk why I'm writing only smut for him) enjoy it y'all

Jane Austen once wrote an entire fanfic about enemies to lovers, slow burn, and she thought no one would notice. Well almost no one. Nothing ever gets out of the eyes and pens of literature majors does it? Especially not out of hardcore Jane Austen fans like yourself.

You must have analysed that godforsaken piece of literature atleast a thousand times since you recieved it as a gift for your birthday. And every single time, you failed to understand how such a love could be possible. I mean come on, a man and woman who hate each other, falling in love with each other? Either Jane Austen must have been a reincarnation of Aphrodite, or a madwoman who still kept faith in love.

Your heart nearly exploded when your professor had assigned a full fledged essay-presentation, costing half your grade on Pride and Prejudice. "Explore your opinion!" She had called out cheerfully, "Tell me what your heart truly feels about this beautiful piece and I'll give you a full half grade and no assignments for the rest of the semester." The class gasped in excitement at her words as you pretended to be interested. Internally, you were groaning. Wasting half of your night to make a presentation about a book you hold no love for? The universe really was against you. You picked your books up dejectedly and walked towards the entrance, shoulders hunched and music at a higher level of noise than it should have been at.

"Oh shit!" You cursed, dropping your books at the sudden interruption. A flurry of blue wool flooded in your face, as you leaned down quickly to pick up your fallen books and phone. "I'm so sorry." You apologised not looking up at whoever you crashed into. "It's alright." A voice responded back, and you looked up to see him. Lee Heeseung. You had seen him a few times in class, heard him actually. With his pristine glasses, and his woolen sweaters, he was the definition of a movie nerd. He was actually smart, you had to admit, always quick to respond to the questions that you had no idea about. Best in the class after you, according to your professor. Although his choice of literature slightly weirded you out. You often spotted him sprawled out under a tree, holding Pride and Prejudice to his nose, deeply engrossed in taking in each word.

"Is that The Neighborhood you're listening to?" Heeseung asked, as he handed you your phone, which he had picked up before you had the chance to. "Do you have an ear for them?" You asked, taking the phone from him. His hands felt soft, like the first snow when you were eight. Heeseung shook his and chuckled. "I'm more of a Arctic Monkeys person." You smiled awkwardly and shuffled your feet. "To each his own then."

"Macbeth." Heeseung said, before you could escape from the conversation. "I'm sorry?" You questioned, confused at his sudden outburst. "That line's from Macbeth." Heeseung sent another smile your way, pushing his glasses up from his nose, "Polonius says it, 'To each his own'." You felt a pang of jealousy hit your chest. You didn't know where that line was from. Of course, what normal person would know the origin of a common idiom?

"Cool." Your laugh was not without a tint of awkwardness. "Well-" Heeseung shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "Bye then." "Bye." You bid each other goodbye and rushed off in opposite directions, not wanting to be stuck in another neverending loop of conversation.

"Don't tell me you actually talked with The Lee Heeseung." Your roommate Soojin laughed, accidentally smearing some turquoise nail polish onto your thigh. You quickly wiped it off with a tissue before frowning at Soojin. "It's not a big deal." You scoffed, having another slice of pizza, "I mean he's just a guy. Kinda nerdy actually"

Soojin burst out laughing again, this time shutting her nail polish close. She gasped for air as she pulled out her phone and showed you a picture of a what looked like a frat party. "Girl-" she got up from her leaning position, "Nerdy is the worst way to describe Lee Heeseung. I'm telling you-" she picked up the last slice of pizza, "-he's the playboy representative of this college."

"Oh come on." You scoffed again, getting up to go to the bathroom, "Stop joking around." Soojin shrugged her shoulders as you disappeared into the bathroom. "Whatever you say."

The next day, you strolled into your favourite cafe with your laptop, headphones, a copy of Pride and Prejudice, money in your pocket, a sketchbook, and a positive mindset. Always need one to write an essay right? You were thankful that it wasn't raining today like it had been for the past few weeks.

The cafe was mostly empty, with a few medical students drinking coffee to their death, as they always did. You walked up to the counter, where you saw your friend Sunoo, working his shift.

"Y/N hey!" He flashed his bright smile at you, putting down the glass he had been cleaning. "Hey sun." You clapped back, leaning in front of the counter, "The usual please." Sunoo nodded his head and started to prepare your drink. "So I've heard something." He put on his mischievous smile, one that he often wore when he had gossip on his fingers. "Please tell me it's not about that girl from Chem again." You sighed, as he put a coffee cup down in front of you. "No it's about you dumbass." Sunoo scoffed, taking the money you handed him, "I heard you bumped into Lee Heeseung." You let out a groan at his words, and quickly grabbed your drink, going off to sit in the corner. "Yah take your change!" Sunoo shouted after you to which you shouted back, "Keep it! Your broke ass needs it anyway!"

You didn't get the chance to see Sunoo giving you the stink eye, as you plopped down on the comfortable couch and opened up your laptop. You had prepared a few opening lines the night before, since you had learnt that doing half of an assignment on the day of the announcement is better than starting the next day. Whoever wrote that theory needs to clarify it to you, but hey never pass up a good study tip right?

Immersed by the clacking of the keyboard keys and the pretty syllables decorating your page, you were completely absent from the world around you. Until, you heard a familiar voice, which broke you out of your hypoxia.

Heeseung.

What was he doing here?, You thought, not realising that you were basically staring at him. He was dressed in full black today, a leather jacket adorning his broad shoulders. A single earing dangled from his right ear. He still had his glasses on, which were fogged up completely, courtesy to the weather outside. Chatting away sonderly to Sunoo, as Sunoo prepared his drink in a way familiar to you, Heeseung caught your eye. He waved joyfully to you, akin to a child waving to their best friend. You waved back, not aware of the face you were currently making.

"Hey!" Heeseung said, sitting down in the chair next to you, with his drink in hand, "Working up on the Pride and Prejudice thing?" There were atleast a million other seats empty in the cafe. Why did he have to sit next to you? You didn't really realise how handsome he was, until he was sitting face to face with you. The mere sunlight coming in from the windows seemed to illuminate his face well. "Oh yeah I am." You replied, shooting him a smile, "Same thing?" You asked, wanting to keep the conversation going. Heeseung smiled jovially at you and propped his laptop open. "Yep." He replied and glued his eyes to the screen as you went back to your own work. "The Neighborhood again?" He raised an eyebrow, peeking at your open Spotify. You smiled gently and replied, "Arctic Monkeys?" As if ticking a correct answer, Heeseung laughed and showed you his phone where 'Arabella' was playing. A pretty album cover, you thought, subtle and sleek. "To each his own then?" Heeseung said. You nodded and smiled in response, before dropping your head back down to your laptop.

An hour must have passed like this, both of you hypnotised in writing and editing, and downing the refills of coffee Sunoo was providing you with. You stole tiny glances at Heeseung from time to time. Concentration was a good face on him, his eyebrows furrowed, his hands typing away furiously at the keyboard. He didn't talk to you at all, except for the initial hey and hello. But something about the way he spoke to you in the beginning, about the way he asked if you had a pen, and about the way he said 'Hey you have an eyelash on your nose' made your stomach erupt into butterflies.

Heeseung left before you did and before leaving he had extended a hand out to you. "May the best essay win." He spoke, shaking your hand and showing you his smile. God he never stopped smiling did he? His hand was soft, as was his grip on yours. It felt like how your father would hold your hand when you were little on the crosswalk.

"Girl just ask him out." Sunoo called after you as you were about to leave, "The tension between both of you back there was almost poetic." Even though you laughed at Sunoo's quip, and denied the offer, a part of your mind lingered on Sunoo's words and the way Heeseung spoke to you that afternoon.

The days leading upto the hour of the presentation went fast. Too fast almost. Your mind went over your short conversation with Heeseung atleast a million times, sometimes distracting you from typing. You didn't know where all the red bull cans littered across your room came from, but you remember where you threw every single one of them and why. The presentation was perfect. It must have been checked by your eyes atleast a hundred times. Finally, a time was coming when you would be able to express your true feeling about it. Despise and Trouble ran through your veins as you walked up to the board as your professor called on you to present. The class seemed to hold a tight breath to themselves. Everyone knew you, teacher's pet, best at English, known for using the most difficult metaphores in her essays yet having a straightforward point.

"Shall I begin?" You asked your professor who gave a curt nod and leaned back in her chair, an expectant smile plastered on her face. You returned the smile and turned to your classmates, who seemed most interested in your essay.

"Well to begin with, as one does-" humor was always the best way to start off speeches, which was shown by the subtle laughter of the students, "-I would like to say that Pride and Prejudice may be one of the most despised books I have sitting in my bookcase." You heard gasps around the room as everyone started murmerring. Your professor leaned forward in her chair, her mouth pressed tightly to form a thin line. That's good, you thought, a good way to break into their corneas.

"While most people would disagree with me upon this apparent piece of art, I truly believe that this sort of a romance is highly impossible. And no-dont tell me that this is fiction and in the fictious worlds you can quote unquote 'do whatever you want'." The audience held their breaths back as you continued with your rant. Your professor was watching it all with a smile on her face, knowing that she couldn't disagree with you. After all, you had to present your own opinions no matter how opposite they were to everyone else's.

"Well-" you professor stood up from her chair, as you finished your presentation. It had been a 25 minute rant about the book and by now everyone seemed to be meekly looking at their own essays. "That was brilliant Y/N. Truly brilliant." You professor clapped you on the back, "I must say, you have a flair for arguing in a way no one can find counter-attacks. I wonder why you did not choose law as your major?"

"Because there is another argument to be discussed here."

A cold voice rang through the room, as you were about to laugh at the professor's quip. You spun around on your shoes to face the culprit.

Lee Heeseung.

"Heeseung!" Your professor delightfully responded clapping her hands together, "Well why don't you tell us your opinion then? And we'll see if Y/N can fire back." She sat in her chair again, looking positively delighted at the forthcoming, "A battle of the best wits perhaps!"

Heeseung smiled widely and stepped forward to where you were sitting, plopping down on the opposite chair. Your professor had always kept two chairs facing each other in front of her class, for debates, her reason sounded. And now, as you sat in front of Heeseung and his stupidly handsome smirk, you swore you were going to bring him down.

"First of firsts-" Heeseung began, as everyone's attention caught on you. "-your opinion is speaking from a highly biased perspective." "How so?" You fired back, before he could even breathe, "I had already stated in the beginning, about how this cannot be on a biased perspective, since fiction based in actual words cannot be this animated." Heeseung smiled again, which threw you off track a bit. God he's handsome, you thought, too handsome....

"Of course but must I remind you, that this book was perhaps the first out of many to start with the trope of enemies to lovers?" Why were his eyes like galaxies?, "Jane Austen invented an entire trope, which still remains a genius scan of literature to this day. How could you say it's too animated?"

"Yes but-"

"Furthermore-" Heeseung continued, not giving you the chance to breathe, "inventing new tropes does not break this 'law of literature' as you say. Since there was no law of literature to begin with. So please Miss Y/N-" he leaned forward, looking at you with dangerous eyes, "-don't you dare say that Pride and Prejudice is a worthless piece of literature just because it does not have proof of poetry."

The class let out a breath as you sat frozen in your seat. Someone actually breaking your argument was a first for you.

God, his hair. His pretty curly hair.

You didn't realise how long you'd been staring at Heeseung with widened eyes until your professor clapped her hands together again.

"Well then!" She said cheerfully, effectively breaking you out of your stupor, "I believe this goes for grading both of you an A+. Half of your grade is filled you two! Congratulations!" The class broke out into applause as you thanked her and awkwardly shook hands with Heeseung as the bell rang loudly. "Well class I'll be seeing you next time!" Your professor announced, as everyone started filing out. "Oh Y/N, Heeseung a moment please?"

You stopped your feet from stepping out the door and immediately spun around, marching off towards your professor, seeing Heeseung doing the same. "Yes Professor Kim?" Heeseung responded with those stupid puppy eyes of his before you could. Professor Kim smiled gently at both of you, before pulling out her tablet.

"I need a bit of help from both of you. It'll be sort of a favour to you too." She handed you the tablet, which had a sort of letter open on it. Heeseung leaned from behind you, and put his chin on your shoulder, making your stomach feel clammy. He smelled good too, you thought, like fresh paper.

"An event is being hosted by our Dean for all majors." Professor Kim smiled, "Sort of a career booster you could say. We were instructed to pick two students from our classes to have the assignment of checking essays, and documentations and whatnot pertaining to their majors."

"And you chose to pick us Ma'am? I'm flattered." Heeseung chuckled, as Professor Kim laughed to his quip. "Well you two are my best students." She drawled, "So the assignment I'm giving you is-" she pulled out a huge stack of papers from beneath her desk. It shocked you how quickly they appeared out of nowhere, like magic. "-these are all essays collected by last year's class. I want you to go through them, give them a good critic, and grade them according to you. You will personally grade each one, taking each other's help of course,since it's a group project. And it will lend you a helping hand since you'll be getting a certificate which you can use to get into any company you'd like!"

You and Heeseung glanced at each other and we're relieved to see the same excited expression face back at them. This was a rare opportunity, a diamond of the first water you'd say. And you had to grab it, even If that meant it was with a person you despised with your entire being.

"I'll do it Professor!" You replied positively to which Heeseung also nodded frantically as if to say the same thing. "Great!" Professor Kim clapped her hands together again, "Oh and one rule is you two have to work together in this classroom. Since the Dean wants to provide you with an opportunity to see how workplace relationships doon out."

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you heard her words. You, working with Heeseung in an empty classroom? You would rather have praised Pride and Prejudice.

"Here, the keys." Professor Kim handed you and Heeseung a pair of keys, "You can work in the evening if you want. But make sure to complete it as soon as you can alright? Oh and you can skip classes if you want to do this first, since the Dean is prioritising this before anything else." You nodded in response to her instructions and bowed her goodbye as you and Heeseung walked out.

"So-" Heeseung stuffed his hands in his pockets, "You wanna work on this shit tonight?" "Unless you have any other appointments, sure we can work on it tonight." You responded, coldly, not looking at him in the eye. "Alright then." Heeseung scoffed, "Meet you here at 8?" "Alright." The end of your conversation came a little too fast, you thought, but you couldn't stand looking into his pretty little eyes and talking to him, as if he didn't just embarrass you infront of your entire class a few minutes ago. "Y/N wait!" Heeseung called, running up to you, as you were about to exit the building. "What?" You spun around to face him. "Shouldn't we exchange numbers first?" Heeseung handed you his phone, which had his contact list open. "Why? So you can take me out on a date later?" You shot at him. A smirk tugged on the corner of Heeseung lips, but he resisted, not wanting to anger you more. You looked cute when you were angry in his opinion. "No. Maybe incase you were murdered by someone on the way here, I can call you and scold you on why tardiness is a childish thing to do." Heeseung joked. You smiled sarcastically at him as you handed him his phone back, having typed in your number. "Eight o'clock princess don't you forget now."

Tick tock tick. The clock's quiet sons echoed through the empty class. 'Don't forget.' you scoffed, 'And he's the one who's late.' The time on your watch sounded 8:30 and yet Heeseung wasn't here. You had given up waiting for him, and started on the assignment yourself, already finishing two of the army of papers. You were a hard critic, and it clearly showed in the way you were seeping your eyes through the ink.

"Soojin he's late! I can't come back now!" Your roommate had called you, in the midst of your third paper, complaining about a cockroach in the room. "Just call your boyfriend, and don't be such a pussy it won't hurt you." You scoffed at Soojin, whose scared whimpers were heard clearly through the phone.

"How's the checking going?" Soojin asked, having seemingly calmed down. You groaned and leaned back in your chair, wincing at the crack of your backbone. Your back must have become stiff from the amount of time you had been sitting in that chair. You felt pity for your professors for the first time, having finally been in their shoes.

"Heeseung's not here yet and I'm literally so fed up right now." You complained to Soojin, "That handsome bastard told me not to be late, and now look where I am! Asshole seriously." "He'll turn up, cool down Y/N." Soojin soothed you. You heard a sound of crashing in the background and stifled a laugh, assuming that Soojin must have miraculously jumped from one bed to the other. "I told you he's a playboy." Soojin panted through the phone, "Maybe he's busy fucking some poor girl in his frat house." You rolled your eyes at her statement.

"Please." You scoffed, "He couldn't fuck a girl if he wanted to, with the tiny ass cock he has." Soojin let out a raucous laugh from the other side of the phone. "How the fuck do you know he has a tiny cock?" She chuckled. "Intuition baby." You responded, "And my intuition is never wrong."

"Like how it was on the day of our debate?"

A familiar voice again. But this time, the warmth in it wasn't present. You whipped your head around to the door, where Heeseung stood, leaning against the door and smirking. "Soojin I'll call you back." You cut the call, before Soojin could respond.

"Hey." You called out to Heeseung. "Hey." Heeseung shot back, sitting down on the chair in front of you, spreading his legs wide. An involuntary gulp went through your throat. "What were you saying princess?" He leaned forward, his shirt dropping down slightly, "I have a tiny what now?" The dim lighting of the room, made his eyes look dark, and the leather of his black jacket, gleam more. "I- I wasn't saying anything Heeseung." You responded, turning your chair back to the desk, warmth coming up on your cheeks. Heeseung cocked his head to the side and smirked at your flustered state.

"Really princess?" He smirked, edging closer to you. The smell of his cologne filled your nostrils again. His glasses dropped on his nose, and he hadn't even bother to push them back up. "Heeseung just get to work." You sternly responded, trying to keep your cool. How could you though? When he was so close to you, lips almost touching your ear. "For you information-" Heeseung spoke, turning your attention away from the paper you were working on, "-I had a friend who needed a lift to his dorm, so I ran a little late. But you couldn't wait for me could you princess?" He smirked, laying his hand on top of yours, "Just couldn't wait to critique all those papers like the good girl you are." "He-Heeseung." "Shh don't." Heeseung shushed you, "You want to see how tiny of a cock I really have then hmm?"

"Heeseung we shouldn't." You hesitated, feeling your legs warm up. "No one's gonna know, as long as you don't make a noise alright?" He kissed your neck gently, turning your figure to his, still sitting in the chair. "Oh princess, already wet for me?" He chuckled, toying with the button of your shirt. "Heeseung-" you moaned out, quickly unbuttoning your shirt, as Heeseung took off his jacket and threw it on the desk. You pulled back slightly as your mind came to its proper senses. "Where are you going doll?" Heeseung questioned, hands resting on your thigh, squeezing it from time to time, "Don't worry princess, no one's gonna know."

Heeseung brings his lips down to yours in an instant, wasting no time. You gasp at his sudden actions and he takes advantage of that by entering his tongue into your mouth. You grab at his shoulders while he cups your jaw with both of his hands. Your hands reach his hair, softly tugging at the root and you hear him whine. Heeseung sucks on your bottom lip, catching it between his teeth and pulling it back to look at you. You look up at him and he takes your face in his hands.

“You wanna see my cock baby?” Heeseung asks in a teasing tone as he looks down at you. You could feel the throb in his pants press against your legs as you whimper. “Hee please.” You whine, squirming as he places a kiss between your breasts. Heeseung runs his hands up and down the sides of your body. If he was going to fuck you on the classroom floor right there and then, you were going to let him.

“Oh, you're feeling extra polite today huh? Please, Heeseung.” Heeseung mocks you with a tiny laugh. You groan in embarrassment and hide your face with your hands. Heeseung just lets out another laugh and wraps his hands around your wrists, prying them away from your face. He transfers both of your wrists to one hand, holding them over your head as he uses his other hand to trail his fingers down your body.

“Don’t hide your pretty face now, princess.” Heeseung says nonchalantly as he dips a hand inside your leggings and panties to feel your dripping cunt. His glasses were beginning to fog up slightly as he whipped them off of his face, setting them down on the desk. You clench around nothing when you feel his middle finger dip into your wetness and bring it up to your clit, rubbing slow circles around it. You moan softly as Heeseung teases your clit, never taking his eyes off of your face.

Heeseung begins to rub your clit faster, and you buck your hips up into his fingers. You hear him laugh at your eagerness and he presses soft kisses into your neck. Heeseung takes his fingers off of your clit and he snaps the waistband of your trousers against your pelvis.

“Dirty girl. Never thought you'd be like this.” Heeseung says with a smirk and you dumbly nod your head. The sounds of your heavy breathing and your pussy squelching around his fingers make your legs begin to shake.

Heeseung spits on your cunt to lubricate it even more, and that's what makes you come undone. Your cunt clenches around his fingers, sucking them in as he fingers you through your orgasm.

Heeseung takes his time kissing down your body, letting your need and desperation build by the second. He tugs one nipple and then the other into his mouth, suckling at the perky nubs and massaging your areola between his lips. Your hips are trembling with anticipation, the space between your legs aching to feel Heeseung's kiss.

Stars hover over you, or at least, that’s how it feels. Your eyes are closed, awareness cut off to the world around you except the place Heeseung's face is buried. He devours your cunt like a man starved, swallowing you whole. Heeseung doesn’t come up for air; he doesn’t need to, because all he breathes is you. Your back is arched and arms stretched forward, fingers clutching Heeseung’s hair in fistfuls.

Your thighs are shaking, reflexively clamping around Heeseung's’s face. He keeps forcing them open, demanding full access to your cunt, even as you buck and claw and convulse. Your mouth hangs open in a stupor; a thin line of drool trickles down your cheek and connects to the cold floor beneath you.

Heeseung laps at your slit like he’s never tasted you before, like he never will again. His tongue pads between your lips, upward strokes that end with the tip of his tongue flicking your clit with a firm intensity that has you reeling. Tugging at his hair, trying not to scream his name incoherently, you ride out the longest orgasm you’ve ever had. Tears burn the corners of your eyes, stars bursting in the black sky of your vision. Heeseung doesn’t stop licking your cunt till you release his hair.

“M’gonna fuck you now, okay?” Heeseung says sweetly and you nod your head. He runs his hard cock through your folds, and he catches your clit, making you jerk a little. Heeseung slowly begins to push himself into you and you throw your head back against the hard material of the desk.

“Fuck, knew you’d be tight when I felt you around my fingers.” Heeseung grits out, and he continues to push himself into you until he bottoms out. He starts to move at a slow pace, and he whines when you beg him to move faster. “Fucking whore. Bet you think about me fucking you in class don't you?” Heeseung spits out as he pushes himself harder and deeper into your sloppy cunt. You moan at his words, and you try to reply but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper.

“Hee, I’m gonna cum.” You cry out, and you clench around Heeseung's fat cock.

“ Cum for me princess.” Heeseung. moans out, fucking into you so deep, a ring of your cum and his has formed at the base of his cock. You run your fingers through his hair, harshly tugging on it as you come undone at his expense. Heeseung buries his face into your neck as he cums, sucking at your pulse point. You feel his cum shoot into you and it only prolongs your own orgasm.

After a couple minutes of you two catching your breath, Heeseung takes his face out of your neck and plops down in the chair, pulling you onto his lap. You sit there, dazed for a few seconds, burrowing your head in his chest, his heartbeat reminding you where you were.

"Well that was a whirlwind of emotions." He says at last, when you start to stir from your hypnosis, "You good doll?" You nod slightly and feel Heeseung's arms wrap around you, putting you safely down on the chair, as he put his clothes back on, slowly picking up yours as well.

"Heeseung the assignments." You panic, as he puts your shirt back on you. "It's alright princess." He coos at you, wrapping an arm around your waist, "We can do that in the morning. Let's get you home." He guides you slowly out the door. "So-" he smirks, locking the classroom with his key "Same time, same place tomorrow?"

[aimedis]

redacted characters as things in my journal 🎀

relatively big tw - there's like vague to explicit mentions of su!cid3 and heavily implied mental self-esteem struggles in this one (i'm alright at the moment, promise) so if that's triggering to you, don't read. this is kinda heavy and maybe disturbing to read to some people i think.

i decided to do this because i though it was kinda fun and cool to like analyse my stuff and the characters a little bit. sorry if this offends anyone ig? idk 😭 i'll be back with the more lighthearted stuff in a couple days okay let's go ->

darlin: "my feelings aren't in my control most of the time. i don't know why i feel this way."

angel before they broke up with micheal: "i think is funny (but i also feel bad) that he's always talking about "getting married" and "forever" when i have a break up letter sitting in my notes."

freelancer: lyrics to "making the bed - olivia rodirgo"

darlin: "i don't wanna talk about him anymore."

damien: "i just want my mom. and i wish i could go up to her just bawling my fucking eyes out like i'm five-years-old without feeling like a fucking failure but i can't... i've survived long enough and i can do it some more."

darlin before sam: "and a part of me will always miss what once was or could have been. but i know they will never be long term, permanent, or reality. i wasn't created to have a happy ending... but i'm okay with this. it makes it easier to slip away and disappear."

cutie: i don't know what so say really. i just feel empty and alone often. i feel out of place. i feel like everything i do is humiliating or straight up wrong. i don't know what's wrong with me."

gavin: "try as i might, i still feel like i am not in my body. living vicariously... through myself?"

baabe: "i should know. my dad didn't want me enough to stay."

lasko: "man what a fucking baby. stop crying over shit that hasn't even happened."

damien before huxley: "i wish i was dead. do you think if [mom] knew she'd wish that too?" (knew that he was gay)

lovely: lyrics to "strangers - ethel cain"

darlin: "i hope it's not my fault when it's all over. i want one thing to not be my fault. but it probably will be."

angel: "why am i crying. again. over and over and over again. it's all i ever do. cry about this or cry about that."

milo post-inversion: "this hurts a lot more than i thought. the thought of feeling like this forever? it sucks."

freelancer: "fucking kill me. i can't breathe."

sam: "is it wrong to think i don't deserve this or that it's not my fault?"

lasko: "it feels like i'm always apologizing."

david: "it really hurts when i need to talk to [him] so bad but i can't."

huxley post-inversion/xavier's death: "is it just always going to feel like this? holy shit this hurts."

damien: "i'm sorry, mom, i'm sorry."

vincent: "the real me? i don't know who that is anymore."

angel: "one more or one less, nobody's worried. my tummy hurts."

darlin before sam: "i don't plan on feeling like this again. i don't plan on "being in love" ever again. as if i know what that feels like... it makes me feel like shit all the time."

cutie: "after this, i'll go back to being alone. like god intended."

asset: "it's kind of sad how i don't even feel like a person sometimes."

lovely: "every so often it hurts so much i think it's gonna rip me apart from the inside."

asher post-inversion: "and it's like, sometimes it straight up feels like i'm gonna die in that moment."

sweetheart: "my greatest sin to men was being a child."

damien: lyrics to "forwards beckon rebound - adrianne lenker"

[katyspersonal]

8, 15, 16 and 20 for peace ask meme!

(Asks from this ( x ) meme)

8) common fandom opinion that everyone is right about and should say it

Well.. I did not actually expect this to become the common opinion the last time I used this ask meme, but things have changed within past half a year, you know? Now, that Micolash and Laurence being academic rivals, featuring inherent homoerotism within it, is a common thing I CAN SAY THAT fandom is right and should say it dfsjhhfhsd

Now I am just waiting dynamic to transcend the ship and include Rom and Caryll for Choir and Byrgenwerth stand-ins (which is which doesn't matter, either works), so the rivalry takes true MULTI-TRACK DRIFTING and does this:

15) that one (cool) thing you see in fanart all the time

Okay, bonk me on the head very hard if I've already brought it up once, but I kinda love 'foreshadowing' in fanart? For example, Rom featuring flovery accessories in her hair or playing with spiders long before meeting her fate, Adeline picking flowers or liking sea life long before Research Hall, Micolash or Bloody Crow playing with actual corvids as kids... all that! Part of me questions the concept sometimes: is not it more impactful, from story standpoint, if the characters got 'taken into' something that absolutely didn't fit them, changing forever...

But then, at the same time, there is equally sinister vibe, or even irony to it, if someone was introduced to the concepts associated with their darker path early, like if their life path was already marked! ..or maybe I am overthinking what is just a fun think visually again. x) In either case, I like it when people do This Thing. I am pretty sure there are more examples I will recall!

16) you CAN understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

I can understand why so many people like to put Gehrman, Laurence, Ludwig and Maria into a group of four! It works naturally as these characters are all connected, especially all being linked to Gehrman. There are other relevant characters like Logarius (from Church's side) or Djura and Gratia (from Old Hunters' side), or like how my friend @fantomette22 adds Caryll as the fifth person, but like... again, they just work together! The four is a good number before it becomes hard to keep track of characters, but also they are all distinct enough! Ludwig is energetic and often is the brightest part of the team, Laurence is the leader with great ego and ambitions, and Gehrman and Maria interchange roles of 'the depressed friend' and 'the cool badass friend'!

20) part of canon you found exciting or interesting

How about ALL OF THEM. You are talking with the person that had a genuine joy digging through every single history implication across Chalice Dungeons, or analysing implications of weapons and even hunters' hats, or found that Yahar'gul Hunters all have plenty of fundament for lore and personalities!!

Alright, I think for this time I'll pick the fact that Yamamura has seen some real shit and his story. He really IS an odd one out of the League, reciting a Healing Church's motivational prayer as the one thing to still keep him sane, as it is stated that League's "mission" was what drove him insane as he stared into human dregs AND he is a summon in Yahar'gul, Research Hall AND is jailed in the prison for people that learned too many Church's secrets, AND there is a Yahar'gul hunter jailed too (so he helped him to escape Yahar'gul?), AND Valtr does curse "mad doctors" as well.. I already mentioned my headcanons about what went down, but is not it interesting detail that after everything he's learned, he is latching onto what Ludwig was saying? A simpler explanation, coping with the idea of "holiness", even if illusory, was a good distraction from the horrors of human nature. A more complex explanation.......

I can just said it increased up my interest in the character significantly back then!

[elekinetic]

Quick! Tag your top favorite byler blogs (as many as you want) and tell my why you love them in one line to spread positivity on the dashboard and make someone's day!

FINALLY! THE TIME HAS COME!

this is in no particular order

first up. my wheelies. my ride or dies. call it traumabonding or whatever u want but these mfs know secrets of mine they better take to the grave

@hawkinsp0st, my first real friend on here. currently on hiatus but truly a kindred spirit. single-handedly changed the way i looked at the show with their hellfire color post. u simply get me and i miss ur brain!!

@ratt-duffer deserves so much more credit than you all give them. he just gets this show so well and has such well written analyses, but more than that, is just a fun fuckin person to exist around.

@willsglock my sister in glock. what can i say. she has permanently altered the way i think about brba and bcs. refreshingly honest in a way i wish more people were. occasionally breaks hearts w her writing.

@crazycoven no. 1 weezer stan in my heart ❤️ jk but fr hayden is such a cool person with some of the best themes and best takes on this site. very glad to know him

@tntozier deserves financial compensation for what theyve given to this tag. one of the brightest souls on here. everything he posts is a gift and u all should be so lucky 🤨 thank u for screaming abt st puzzle games and convincing me to download. i blame you for my crippling addiction.

ok onto some of my other favorite geniuses on here <3

@quinnick his energy??? immaculate. thank u for putting reddie content on my dash. u are so sweet and are the only valid ask hoarder. yes ofc i will send you more asks!! you deserve it!! even if you won’t stop making ur mom jokes.

@madcleradin just fucking gets it. she has never made a single post i did not wholeheartedly agree with. her understanding of the characters and the dynamics….phenomenal. also genuinely hilarious. very grateful to be mutuals w one sierra loveqbrl madcleradin

@mlchaelwheeler is a certified genius and is single-handedly responsible for getting me to restart succession. we don’t chat very often but when we do it is so much fun. she always puts such good posts i’ve never seen before on my dash and her analyses are genius. sarah’s blog is a gift to this site!!!

@chiquitablanquita changed my life with her poetry fic. i just. wow. wow. oh my god. yeah basically yeah. oh my god. i am in awe of you for the work u do outside of fandom and for the absolute insane talent u so gracefully share with us.

@eightieslesbian is The Gif Maker on here. her visions…holy shit. yes her gifs of my demos and the bitch meredith brooks gifset haunt my dreams bc she is the sweetest person on here and the fact that she DOWNLOADED MY MUSIC?? hello my heart is broken in two. but can we talk about HER original stuff?? HELLO?? she is so insanely talented and her vision is just….omg. OMG.

@elmaxed lumi and i don’t chat all that much but her brain is just so correct always and forever. her writing is wonderful and her energy is stellar. always happy to see her on my dash.

@wibble-wobbegong is such a fun blog to follow. he’s just such a cool dude and has such a nuanced understanding of mike. plus a great signature blog theme. dude has a BRAND, mad respect

@astrobei i cannot believe we are mutuals. i CANNOT BELIEVE we are mutuals. genuinely one of my favorite writers on ao3 and i still fangirl a little everytime we interact. like. the fics….holy shit. HOLY shit. she has such a firm understanding of the characters and has never written anything that doesn’t feel true to the show, regardless of AU or canon compliance. hanleia costume fic my beloved. good god they are such a talented writer.

@smoosnoom the scream i scrumpt when i got the follow notification. first fic writer i actually learned how to use the “subscribe” function on ao3 for. there are no words for the absolute batshit amount talent stored in this tumblr blog. ik y’all have read i’m tearing you asunder (cue “uh yeah, i’ve read the classics” tiktok audio) but every fic in their fix it series….jesus christ. run up that hill to go read rn.

@strangeswift is in a category of her own. abby u are a twin flame and i am so glad to know u. u simply understand me!! y’all she is such a fuckin phenomenal writer and is SO CEREBRAL in the way she approaches the show. her mike s4 pov snippets live rent free in my head. truly the only person who could get me to voluntarily read angst. NEVER misses with her takes and is just. so smart. SO SMART. the most supportive mfer on here fr. you guys aren’t ready for milevenvision or any of the other stuff you should be so lucky for abby to put out.

ok i could talk about my friends and moots for hours and i definitely DEFINITELY missed ppl but pls just know i follow blogs i love love love the content of and if we are mutuals i value u to the moon and back <333

[david-tennant-wearing-things]

Making a pinned post so I look like I know what I'm doing

To be clear, my only qualifications to run this blog are:

I'm obsessed with David Tennant

I have a bit of experience with fashion design and sewing

I need an outlet to talk about DT's clothes before people irl start telling me to shut up

This blog might include actual analyses of his outfits, but I'm not great at writing long posts and I don't actually know enough about fashion to do that much analysis, so it may not 🤷

I'm trying to create a really organized tagging system so we can pretend I'm organized, but I don't actually know how well that will work. We're going to find out. Anyway, tags below the cut:

Disclaimer: I'm very adhd and sometimes I forget tags

I don't update this every time I add a new tag Latest Update: October 2, 2024 Specific Looks:

Good Omens s2 Press Day 2

Evening Standard Theatre Awards 2023

BAFTA 2024 Red Carpet

BAFTA 2024 Kilt

BAFTA 2024 Gold Suit

Red Nose Day 2024

Olivier Awards 2024

British LGBT Awards 2024

Mean Girls Premiere

Pub In The Park Things He Wears Often:

Fluffy Sweaters

Pride Pins

Pride Shirts

Pride (should have all pride and allyship posts)

Peaked Lapels

Converse

Bow ties Characters:

Crowley

Ten; Fourteen; The Doctor Other People:

Georgia Tennant Instagram

Tennant Kids

Michael Sheen

Anna Lundberg Instagram

Billie Piper

Bonnie Langford

Millie Gibson

Ncuti Gatwa Designers:

Joshua Kane

Mithridate

MacGregor and MacDuff

Paul Smith

In the event that I get my act together, this blog might also include some of my own work:

Getting My Act Together And Making Shit

My Act Is Not Together Miscellaneous:

Bark Ruffalo

Wordle

Fanart

The hunt for David's aunt's blouse

Posts that don’t include pictures of David/aren't really about him are tagged #not dt or #not a fashion post (unless I forget)

fun facts that feel relevant: I'm trans, neurodivergent, and disabled. I really want to see queer, adaptive, and adjustable fashion become more mainstream, so this is my small attempt at contributing to that. While also continuing to not shut up about David Tennant.

[essayofthoughts]

Same for you: 12, 19, 23 owo

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

Ripley.

Like. If we're going for the villain pick, Ripley. I don't think you should think she's a good person - she's not - or that she's nice a woobie or something. She's fucking awful! But she's also awful in a really human, engaging way and I find her so fun to poke. I think a lot of people kind of forget the pure banality of evil, the way these people can have really simple, dull motivations - Ripley wants power and knowledge and she doesn't care how she gets it. Everyone is just a tool or a stepping stone in the goal of that.

And she's canonically a foil to Percy, so that makes her REALLY USEFUL in analysing him - and him in analysing her! - so for all of those people who like a bit of dark!Percy like... Ripley! She is right there!

And she's such a bitch. She refuses to swear despite being someone who tortures people, she's clever enough to replicate guns from second and third hand reports, she's always looking to her own advantage - and she's just. Awful! She's exactly the kind of person who looked at the structural inequality of the Dwendalian Empire and decided to do the amoral shit others got away with because of wealth and when she got arrested for it assumed it was purely because of class differences and not because she's just the Worst.

And the thing is these days there's so much moralising! Oh the villain must be woobified, oh they never did anything wrong at all ever (MCU Loki, Kylo Ren, even the Betrayer Gods in CR!) and frankly fuck that.

Ripley did do shit wrong and that's why I find her engaging. She wilfully tortured people despite it being useless for information gathering! She made guns and spread them around purely to fuck with Percy! She's an awful human being and sometimes it's really fun to look at that in the distance. Over there. Way over there. Down the barrel of a sniper rifle.

Yeah.

If we're doing non-villain, minor-character fic... it's Desmond, it's fucking Desmond, I know he's not really "Unpopular" so much as "ignored" but I don't care! I will fight you all on this hill, that Desmond Otham is so revealing as to Percy's own perception of his own guilt and failure to his family ("I want you to spend the rest of your life making up for the things you allowed to happen" says Percy and WHAT THINGS Percival! This lad is a carriageboy! He's about the same age you were when the massacre happened! What the fuck do you expect him to blame himself for!? Now you blaming yourself on the other hand...)

Plus I just think he's neat! I think he's a great example of someone with a lasting consequence from Percy's reckless actions - one of those people Percy mentions who may not see them as heroes for reasons that are completely justified. And if he is the courier or returns to Whitestone and takes up another job - he's got that reminder the rest of his life. Even away from Vox Machina, he has his maimed hand.

I think he's really cool, fuck everyone who disagrees.

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

N/A, I think? There's nothing I like that I'm mad, ashamed or horrified over that I can think of. I like the things I like and I know why I do so I've largely resolved any conflicts I'd have of that kind. I've definitely figured some things out writing fic that kinda annoy me (i.e. I can write smut pretty easily when there's trauma and mental fuckery involved but not like... on it's own) but that's fanfic more than dealing with fandom as a whole or the canon itself.

So uh. N/A!

23. ship you've unwillingly come around to

Again, I think N/A? I don't generally ship things, not to like... shipwar, this is my OTP or else kind of deal. I think that kind of thing is actually really unhealthy and often hoping for that ship can cause people to disconnect from the canon itself in order to back up their warped reading of the text, plus it just sets people up for disappointment! I'm a big believer in creating ships purely for the "I guess this could be neat!" kind of thing, and I don't generally get into it more than that.

Perc'ahlia is the exception, but that wasn't unwilling. They gave me too many fantastic squishy feelings and thinky thoughts, I didn't even hesitate.

🔥 choose violence ask game 🔥

[bonesandthebees]

I feel like I should specify that all the electricity I had in high school was calculating the resistance on parallel and sequenced circuits (or both). Which basically requires you to know like 2 formulas, when to use them and how to reform them to get what you want. It’s very visual too, which means being dyslexia gives me a boost because anything visual becomes a lot easier.

I also had some electricity last year because God knows why my teacher fell the need to throw that in (it wasn’t even a physics course! If I wanted physics I would have chosen Physics!). I was terrible at that (I can barely remember what it was). In my defence the teacher never taught us any of it, all of it was self tuition which is hell with dyslexia as severe as mine. Like I have other teachers who do guided self tuitions where you essentially get ‘tests’ you have to make, but they are open book so you’re just supposed to look it up while making it and then you’ll at least know what is and isn’t important. Pure self tuition sucks because I cannot differentiate between what is and isn’t important and everything takes me twice as long and twice as much energy as a Nero typical student (as you can image, lockdown was a special kind of hell I only got through because my friends would sent me their answers for all the heavy reading assignments so I could copy it.)

Also, STEM is very cool and fun. It’s so useful for world building. The amount of times I slide into my STEM friends’ DM’s to ask worldbuilding related questions and discuss what I could and couldn’t pull of with suspension of disbelief is so much fun. Not to mention that learning how you body works is awesome and good for the hypochondria. BUT the way STEM is taught is often very shit. Both in high school and in uni. They tend to get split into separate subjects when all of them connect, making teacher dependant on each other to build their subject matter. And I have friends in uni who will spend like an 8-10 hour day in a lab every week , who then have to write and finish a lab report by the next week.

Lastly,

Me 🤝 Snowflake

Being hella game for the royalty au when it drops and ready to analyse it it shreds.

P.s. oooooooohhhhhhhhh, kitties!

-🌲

that's the kind of electricity stuff I had to do too and it was so difficult for me to grasp 😭 which didn't make sense bc like you said it's literally just two formulas you have to plug stuff into but idk maybe my uni course went more into detail i dont remember

man having to teach yourself concepts like that is the worst. guided self teaching is fine like you said especially with open book tests, but pure self teaching is so hard because if you get confused on one thing it feels like everything falls apart. and i'm sure for you it was especially difficult with having to read so much stuff on your own. I definitely get the lockdown thing too, my grades spiraled down over lockdown and never fully recovered (and that was the year i failed a class for the first time ever. feelsbadman fuck organic chemistry)

but like you said STEM topics are very useful to know about for worldbuilding purposes (like me heavily bullshitting a somewhat scientific explanation for tommy's healing power in clinic so there's logical reasoning to it lmao)

lab reports... don't remind me shudders

[nihiltism]

since ive been too College to have enough art for any sort of summary im just gonna put a general year end rundown of what i feel i did best on this year!!

i think every year since i figured out that i dont need to use pens to line has just gotten better art wise for me. FUCK lining. pencils are my best friends forever and ever and can do your job better than you ever could. anyway apologies for some of these drawings being crunchier than others, i only recently got a scanner and Cannot be assed to scan my old art for this post rn.

also the first art here is a hatoful boyfriend spoiler. i mean i guess the last one is too but its vaguer i think. anyway. none of these are actually analyses of what i learned with each art im just braining

april 5th-

you guys know this one i REALLY like it. why in the goddamn were my best pieces this year hatoful boyfriend. anyway i uh. hey did you know that i didnt do the notgeki with graphite because i like mixed media. i did it because i have not owned a grey pencil for my some-teen years of drawing ever. i only JUST got a grey pencil like. a couple months ago. i mean im good with graphite i would have done it like that anyway but. yeah. anyway this was abt the height of my beginning hatoful fix and Also indirectly what got me to meet like a bunch of my mutuals here!! i did. not know there was a hatoful community. and because That i actually started using tumblr so!! hey thanks hitori. i need to do more birdform art.

april 15th -

this motherfucker! ill be. completely honest i dont have a lot of feedback for a lot of my graphite art bc ive Been doing this. ok actually yknow what i will say. there is a limit for how dark something can be with graphite and i Very much remember going over the inside of the cloak So Much. this was my pet project during my weekly 3 hour long lecture so god bless it. also i do still like how i did the eye. can i draw eye guys exclusively please.

july 3rd -

not really Art im proud of but!! holy shit i dont design often and i dont hate this!! this is at least in part thanks to my gf. my gf knows how to clothes better than i do so i did ask them for help. also i really need to scan this one. or maybe draw her a new ref. anyway (holds up celine) look at her. look at the silly.

september 6th -

this one was a trade for my friend raicatty and. also something i probably should have scanned. but its fine. anyway this one did teach me something and its To Line Your Damn Pieces Darker. lining with the color that youre going to be coloring in is kind of Asking For Disaster if it overlaps with others and u can. see that. this is a bit imparseable. but its also pretty. and thats all that really matters. a fun fact for when i ever do commissions is that being allowed to use this purpley pink pencil i have will make me really happy. its so pretty.

OERSHRIMP INTERLUDE

OERSHRIMP INTERLUDE

november 13 -

forgive me for including a sketch in this but YOU DONT UNDERSTAND IVE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO DRAW HUMANS. like. NEVER. much less in an actual decent pose. (god bless adorkastock) im So very delighted by this oboromaru and hes!! like!! one of my least favorite characters!! (not to say i dislike him hes just lower). i dont know what happened here!! if this wasnt at the very back of my Sketchbook I Just Put Away Because It Was Falling Apart id say id finish this one later. rip. he and that dark daroach sketch i had there can just vibe i guess.

aaand the big one. december 8th -

things i learned from this one! 1. the scanner did not pick up the red lines very well! 2. scanners are good! 3: NEVER do a full page project again! buuut i do want to say i am like. insanely proud of this one. its the first art ive done i can really say has any sort of Composition and im so delighted that it turned out just as cool as it looked in my head. also this took forever and i could have easily messed it up Multiple times in the process. so god bless.

[the-god-of-death]

2. Basic Villain Skills

1. How To Lie Effectively.

Lying is the most useful skill we have ever created. Everybody claims it was the wheel. They’re lying, thereby proving my point. It could be said that civilisation didn’t truly start until we developed the art of the lie. The promise of ‘everything will be ok’ has been used by those who wish to be deluded for thousands of years.

Lying is great because it taps into the most powerful force in the world. Belief.

Now, some might say that is fairly unscientific but it’s something that we use all the time. Belief isn’t just about praising some sort of divinity that may or may not hold control over where you go when you die (if there’s anything there in the first place). It’s about the little things as well. This coin has value. My partner is true. My sports team will definitely win their next game. I’m sure these number printed on this piece of paper will make me rich beyond my wildest dreams. My government is fair and has my best interest at heart.

Belief is everywhere and is central to our being. Without belief, we’d never achieve anything.

Lying is a tool that we use to manipulate others but we also use it on ourselves more often than you realise. We choose to believe the little lies, like a fairy who collects teeth for money or a generous spirit who gives presents to good children, so we can believe the big ones like fairness, justice and equality.

Heroes, the mouthpieces of the System, will tell you that lying is bad. Good people don’t lie. They say this because the truth you share with them makes you easier to control. Fortunately, as we are Evil, we can lie all we please. You may feel uncomfortable lying and that is a perfectly natural reaction to have. Lying isn’t evil in itself, it is a tool not unlike a hammer of knife. How you use it is what’s important.

In this sense, we’re going to take things small.

Question: What do you think about yourself?

You’ve automatically thought up an answer and I bet it wasn’t very supportive. That’s fine. I sprung that on you without offering any guidance first. As a Villain, you should be aiming for “I am the End Of All That Is Wrong” or “I am the Bedrock Upon Which This World Shall Be Tested”. Something cool like that. You’ll have a mountain of confidence and you’ll be pretty damned invincible because you won’t care what others think of you. Why would you care about those inferior to you? They’re still worried about making sure they fit in their nice little mould like the pathetic, basic simps that they are.

But I get that you’re not there yet. First, I want you to think about the answer you just gave yourself. Analyse it. It doesn’t matter how true it is, you just need to think about how it made you feel. I doubt you’re ready to compliment yourself yet so try for something neutral instead. The next time I ask you the question, instead of saying “I’m a piece of shit” or something similar, try saying “I am a person” instead.

Question: What do you think about yourself?

It feels weird the first time, I know. That insult is tempting to fit in. Chances are, the echo of it is still bouncing around in your mind. That’s cool. This is a work in progress. The important thing to remember is that you should think of yourself in neutral terms as much as you can. Self-deprecation is fun sometimes but too much and you’ll believe it.

Because it’s a lie.

The neutral response is also kind of a lie. Don’t get me wrong, you are a person. That much is true, but you’re also so much more than that. But we’ll come back to that later when you’re not constantly trying to make yourself feel bad.

Keep giving yourself the neutral response. It will feel like a lie but if you tell yourself something often enough, you will start to believe it. After a while, if you feel up to it, start giving yourself little compliments like “I’m ok” or “Hey, I’m actually pretty cool”. Eventually, and it seems like an impossibility right now, you’ll start to believe that too.

Reinforce the positive thoughts as much as you can. You’ve beaten yourself up for so long, you surely deserve to feel good for a change.

The Very Evil Guide on How to Find and Keep Fellow Emotional Manipulators for Mutually Evil Purposes.

Introduction

Friends.

The word conjures up an image of fellow humanoids holding each others hands under a bright sky filled with white clouds and rainbows. Together, they skip upon lush, green fields towards the future, knowing that whatever life throws at them, they will face it together.

Pathetic.

The reality is that these people will throw you under the carriage at the first sign of trouble. When life hands you incriminating evidence of your wrongdoings, despite being perfectly innocent, they will always follow the path of ‘law and order’ and inevitably betray you. The system is not your friend. The system is a method of control. The system is there to keep those at the top in power and they are willing to sacrifice anything and everything of yours to keep it that way.

But that's why you've picked up this book, isn't it? You've realised that the classic way of making ‘friends’ doesn't work for you. It's hard to know who to trust and who to allow into the inner circle of your confidence.

Spoiler: it's nobody.

No. This is the Very Evil Book on How to Find and Keep Fellow Emotional Manipulators for Mutually Evil Purposes. Friends are for people who don't know any better. You want a confidante. A co-conspirator. A Fellow Schemer. Most of all, you want someone who will deny the ‘truth’ that the Good Guys so desperately want you to believe. Someone who will have your back when the going gets tough and who, if they aren't already in jail with you, has already set in motion the plan to break you out for you to live the rest of your days in some other country under the guise of a different persona. Someone who will help you enact your sweet, sweet revenge on those who have wronged you.

Of course, Evil comes in many flavours. Ultimately, it's about doing what you want. To allow and nurture the selfish desires within yourself. How you actually act upon them is up to you.

Some choose to build Constructs of Death without any foresight about how they could be used.

Some choose to wage extreme war upon those who could potentially do harm in order to show off their talent for healing.

Some mix themselves into society to empower it from within, showing them how, together, they have more power than they realise and should they ever join as a group, they could topple any system of government that wishes only to provide ‘security and stability’.

Others, instead, choose not to get involved at all. Preferring to turn a blind eye to the suffering of others or even reap the benefits of being in a position of privilege.

There are many other ways. I'm sure you could think of some yourself. The point being, how you choose to enact your evilness is a personal choice but it is your choice.

In this book, we’ll discuss many issues on how to find your partner(s) in crime.

We will start with how you view yourself. From the insane reason as to why you wanted friends in the first place, to discussing what kind of person you are, before laying out the groundwork of what it actually means to be the villain of your own story and how it differs from being the hero.

Next, we’ll utilise tips and tricks that Emotional Manipulators use and test them on the best subject there is (you) in order to understand how these methods work from both sides.

Finally, we’ll start developing the skills you will need to be the best villain you possibly can be.

Don't forget to destroy all notes you may keep along the journey. We don't want to leave any incriminating evidence for any Heroes to use against you now, do we?

[gukyi]

the love project | jjk

summary: from running to mcdonald’s at 3am after a halloween party where the two of you dressed up as the teletubbies to timing how long it takes for him to drink a cup of monster mixed with mountain dew and iced coffee and then do fifty push-ups, you’re used to your best friend jungkook asking you to do all sorts of crazy things. but, of all the shit the two of you do, letting him follow you around for a week with a camera and take candid photos of you for a photography assignment might just be the craziest of them all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 12k warnings: college antics, hopeless pining, slow burn a/n: me: this fic will be 10k max! also me: actually nevermind on par for the course of this blog, i hope you enjoy this fic! it was so much fun to write and it definitely got me back into the ~writing mood~. more fics coming soon!

These days, the weeks pass you by like trains on a platform. They whiz past you, the only discernible features being the beginning and the end of them, with the middle nothing but a blur. 

At least, that’s how it feels when you’re in college, and the days bleed into weeks bleed into months, and suddenly you’re one year closer to graduating, one year closer to figuring out what next to do with your life, even if you’re still missing that one general education requirement you forgot to take in your first year so now you’re trying to cram it into your schedule at the last minute.

Okay, you’ll admit it. Introduction to Astronomy is kicking your ass. That’s what you get for putting it off until junior year, when you’re supposed to have reached the point in your History major career where you don’t have to look at numbers anymore and the idea of doing basic math is absolutely unfathomable. History majors don’t do math. They just don’t. It vanished from your academic arsenal long before now, alongside your ability to interpret word problems and understand science textbooks. 

Perhaps in another universe, you would have actually retained those skills past high school, but that universe is not this one, and so your problem sets can solve themselves or not be solved at all. 

Your best friend would have to disagree.

“It’s not even calculus!” Jungkook exclaims over a mouthful of a Starbucks tomato and pesto panini, pointing to your laptop in exasperation, as if the answer has been staring you in the face for the past fifteen minutes. “It’s just algebra! All you’re doing is plugging the numbers into the formula and finding the missing variable!”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff, furiously erasing at the notebook in front of you as you get yet another incorrect answer. Who knew math could be so difficult? Oh, that’s right. You did. “You took that advanced differential equations class for fun last year. It’s not even required for your major. You’re just a masochist.”

“Says the person who convinced their advisor to let them take seven classes because they, and I quote, ‘all seemed so interesting’ and you ‘didn’t want to miss out.’” Jungkook rebukes pointedly. “Because your life would be so terrible if you didn’t take Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe.”

He’s got you there. Seven classes is a lot. In your defense, Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe was very interesting and you got a 4.0 that semester. So who is he to judge? Jungkook’s favorite pastime is pretending that taking three different computer science classes in a single semester isn’t going to single-handedly kill him.

Jungkook watches you struggle for a few moments more before he sighs, like he can’t take looking at someone so mathematically incompetent any longer. He stuffs the remaining third of his Starbucks panini into his mouth all at once like the ravenous beast he is before he reaches over the tiny table you’re sat at to look at your problem set himself. He turns your laptop towards him and grabs hold of your notebook, furrowing his eyebrows as he enters Work Jungkook Mode. 

Work Jungkook Mode is the mode of him you see most often during finals week or the rare occasions where you meet up to actually try and get work done. Work Jungkook has tunnel vision for whatever assignment is currently in front of him, which he will do either in one sitting or die trying. Work Jungkook lets his coffee get cold and forgets to answer your text messages, even when you’re sat right across from him and you know that he can see the notification on his laptop. Work Jungkook refuses to turn in anything that he hasn’t devoted his entire being to, even if it’s something as simple as a discussion board post. Some of his other friends say that when Jungkook is in Work Jungkook Mode, they won’t even try to contact him, lest their messages get lost in the flurry of his coding assignments. 

But you are not “some of his other friends.” You are his best friend. So rules do not apply to you. And Jungkook has long accepted that fact.

“Hey, don’t mess up my work—” You exclaim defensively, grabby hands reaching over the table to retrieve your notebook. “Wait, how did you do that?”

Jungkook scribbles something down in nearly-illegible font, determined to solve the problem in front of him. He thinks for a few more seconds before eventually jotting down an answer, circling it with his pencil. Holding the notebook out so both of you can see, he scoots his chair over to your side of the table, your shoulders pressed together in this tiny corner of the Starbucks, right by the bathroom, and explains, step by step, what he did. 

He does that for the following two problems in your set, walking you through the kind of math he was doing in freshman year of high school like it’s nothing, answering all of your stupid questions and giving you tips on how to finesse the system by taking as many shortcuts as possible. Teaching you things you never learned, or possibly had just forgotten. Things that a professor would think is idiotic to re-teach to a junior in university. Things that Jungkook wants you to know because he just wants you to have a little more faith in yourself. 

“Does that help?” He asks when he’s finished, still doubting his fantastic teaching abilities despite the fact that he just taught you more in the last thirty minutes than your professor has managed in a month and a half. 

“It actually does,” you tell him, pleasantly surprised. Looking back down at your notebook, what was once a shapeless blur of numbers, letters, and formulas is suddenly a clear and organized outline of each and every step to follow. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”

“Anything can be easy if you just commit yourself to learning how to do it,” Jungkook says, one of those random sentences that are too wise for a college student surviving off of RedBull and Starbucks food, the ones that always make you think Jungkook is secretly an immortal sage with life experiences far beyond your own. “Except coding. Which is hard no matter how good you are at it.”

“Aw, you can do it,” you rally, reaching up to pinch his chin in between your fingers and squeeze it tight. “It’s also too late to change your major now, so you’re stuck.”

“Wow, thanks for the encouragement,” Jungkook chides, hand coming up to rub at where you held his jaw, rolling his eyes. “You should let me help you with your Astronomy work more often. Gives me a break from Python.”

“I would have made you help me whether you liked it or not,” you tell him pointedly, because he is your best friend and he doesn’t get out of things as easily as he thinks he can. “But thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

“Of course,” Jungkook says with a good-natured grin, always so selfless and kind and giving. He practically signed himself up for a semester’s worth of TA-ing for Introduction to Astronomy despite the constant mountain of work he has himself. Just because it’s you. 

“My very own personal genius,” you muse, wrapping your hands around his arm and snuggling into his body, a whisper of a language only the two of you share. It’s something the two of you have long gotten used to, pressing your fingers all over each other’s bodies like it’s second nature. One of the things that makes you feel so certain about having Jungkook in your life. About wanting him to stay with you for the rest of time. “I’m never letting you go.”

Jungkook smiles, a warm hand coming to rest atop of your own. He breathes, in and out, chest rising beneath your touch. “Like I’d ever let you,” he says.

There is no question about it. Jungkook is one hundred percent, absolutely, undoubtedly, positively, indisputably smarter than you are. It’s something that the two of you used to jokingly fight about (because Jungkook claims that he’s a bad essay writer, even though he’s not), but at this point it’s cemented in stone—he’s a damn genius. A genius who is inexplicably good at everything. A double threat. Triple, if you count the fact that he’s built beyond belief and could probably chuck you into next week if you really, really ticked him off. 

The truth is that, ninety percent of the time it is you who is going to Jungkook for help. Whether it be an assignment you need assistance on (namely Astronomy, because Jungkook probably couldn’t help you on your Mesopotamian artifact and primary source analyses despite his best intentions), a date that was a lot worse than you were hoping it would be, or even just the right coffee to order from that expensive place on the corner. Jungkook knows how to fix everything. 

So when Jungkook slides into the seat across from you in the food court after his Mastering Photography class with that I’m in trouble look on his face, you know something is horribly wrong. 

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned as you watch him devour the sushi takeout in front of him, stuffing the spicy tuna rolls into his mouth like they’re Skittles. His camera hangs haphazardly out of his open backpack, like he barely had enough time to stuff it into the pocket while he was making his way here. There’s a worried expression written all over his face as he fumbles with the chopsticks in his hand, losing his grip on them every ten seconds. 

It’s not until Jungkook has finished the container of spicy tuna rolls in front of them that he finally seems to work up the courage to answer you. 

“My Photography class is gonna be the death of me,” Jungkook exclaims, exasperated. 

“I thought you liked it,” you comment unhelpfully. Jungkook had been so excited to be enrolled in it, because you needed a recommendation from a different professor and you had to submit a portfolio in order to join the class, making it one of those exclusive (and thus, much better) courses. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook is basically already a professional photographer if his Instagram is anything to go by. He’s going to walk out of university with a Photography minor whether he realizes it or not.

“I do,” Jungkook insists, even if right now it sounds like the two of you both need convincing of that fact. “But this project is ridiculous. I don’t even know how my professor expects us to have the time to finish it.”

“What do you have to do?”

Jungkook sighs. Just thinking about it seems to stress him out. “I mean, it’s only really a week long. So I guess it’s not too bad. But we’re supposed to compile a portfolio of the same subject, taken over the course of the week, with them in all sorts of different poses and lighting and locations, to express a personal theme.”

You scrunch your nose up in confusion. “I might be wrong, but isn’t that what photography… is?” You ask cluelessly. 

“Yes,” Jungkook argues, “but also no. Photography is taking pictures of things just for the hell of it. Not because they necessarily speak to a part of your soul. You just like the look of it. You want to capture the scene. That’s it.”

“Oh,” You say dumbly. 

“And our subject can be whoever or whatever we want, but he recommended choosing a person because taking pictures of our water bottles in different places is boring,” Jungkook huffs, though his professor does have a point there. Modern history wasn’t made out of photographs of store windows and miscellaneous items. It was made out of people, out of events in their lives that shaped the rest of the world, out of personal experiences that changed their point of view. “But I don’t even know anybody who would be willing to let me photograph them for a whole week! I’d basically have to follow them around like paparazzi!”

“I’ll do it,” you suggest casually, because it seems like the most obvious choice to you. There’s no one Jungkook spends as much time with as you. 

Jungkook’s eyes pop out of his head. “What?”

“I’m serious,” you insist. “Think about it. You need a subject for your project that you can photograph in a wide variety of places and over the course of a week. Who else do you spend that much time with, other than me?”

“Well..” Jungkook begins, trying to fight your reasons with his own. “Would you even be comfortable with something like that? I mean, I’m literally going to constantly be taking photos of you.”

“Like we don’t already do that on our phones,” you tease, having amassed quite the album of terrible Jungkook pictures over the years. 

“A camera is different from a phone,” Jungkook protests weakly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m just saying. It won’t bother me,” you say with a shrug. Why is Jungkook being so… weird about your suggestion? You thought he would be jumping at the offer, especially considering it means he won’t have to go out of his way to find and photograph someone else for this assignment. But he’s being rather hesitant. You watch as he glares down at his empty sushi takeout box, eyebrows furrowed in that thick, nervous way. “But you don’t have to,” you backtrack. “It was just a suggestion.”

He breathes in and breathes out, expression solid. Even from here you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, placing each and every potential result into a pro and con list inside his mind, trying to work out whether the benefits will be greater than the cost. 

Quite frankly, you don’t know what all the holdup is about. 

“You’re… sure about this?” He asks, looking up at you, determined to ensure your comfort. As if that’s even an issue. “You’re cool with being photographed and everything?”

“Only because it’s you,” you tease lightheartedly, expecting some sort of equally cheesy response. Instead, it makes Jungkook do something weird. He freezes in place, darting his eyes away from your gaze for a split second, collecting thoughts you can’t see. “Yeah,” you say loudly, trying to bring him back. “I’m fine with it.”

He inhales, exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them. “Okay then. I guess it’s settled. You’ll be my subject,” he declares, an almost unnoticeable wobble to his voice. It’s probably nothing, so you don’t think too hard about it.

“Can you at least pretend to be a little more excited about this?” You ask, jabbing him in the chest with a wooden chopstick. “It’s the first time we’ve ever gotten to be part of a project together!”

“Yay,” Jungkook says, lifeless. 

“How about a photo to commemorate it?” You suggest, reaching over to pull the camera out of his backpack, pushing it into his hands. “This can be the start of your portfolio.”

“Fine,” he eventually caves, bringing it up to his eye as he turns it on, twisting the lens to perfect the focus. Even caught off guard like this, he looks like a professional, like someone who was born to be behind the camera. He’s a computer science major but you know that photography will always be something special to him.

You strike a dramatic pose, holding your chopsticks out, one in each hand, with a wide, excited smile on your face. “How do I look?” You ask, scrunching your eyes together. 

Jungkook’s finger hovers over the silver button. “Perfect,” he tells you, voice soft and honest. 

Click.

“So, how many photos are you supposed to take for this portfolio?” You ask as you flop around on Jungkook’s bed, pretending that the open tab on your laptop with your fifty-page reading doesn’t exist. You don’t even know why professors assign readings that long. Do they really expect you to read all of it?

From across his room, you can make out the top of Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair over his sleek gaming chair, one of the ones that look like high-tech airplane seats. “I don’t know,” he says. “He said at least twenty. And no more than fifty. Which really makes me wonder if someone once submitted like, one hundred photos for this project that he had to grade them on. But yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say. When you’re around a cute animal, you can easily take twenty photographs. Granted, they aren’t exactly award-worthy photographs, but it’s not a physically demanding task. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Hypothetically you could finish it in a day. But it looks really obvious.”

“Well, how many do you have now?”

It’s been a day and a half since Jungkook agreed to let you be his so-called muse, but already you’ve lost track of how many photos he’s taken of you. He loves his camera, you know that, but you didn’t realize exactly how much he loves his camera. And with you as the sole subject for his project, he’s practically letting it hang from his neck all day long, just waiting for the right time to snap a photo of you standing in line at the food court, frowning at your textbook, or waiting to meet up with him. Every time he sees you he snaps a picture, even if the lighting’s bad, even if you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, even if it’s midnight and you look like a zombie. In his mind, there are no bad pictures. Just memories.

You wonder what the hell he sees in you. 

“A lot,” Jungkook answers unhelpfully, making no effort to elaborate on that statement. 

“Have you counted?” You ask, getting off of his bed to join him at his desk. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize what you’re doing until you’re standing right next to him, placing a hand over his shoulders as you lean down next to him. He fumbles around for a second, the mouse slipping through his grip, and you catch a glimpse of one of the photos he’s taken of you, a sliver of your pursed lips, the wrinkles between your eyebrows. 

It’s from the library yesterday. You didn’t even know Jungkook had taken a picture of you there. You had a stupid reading to complete last night, one that made no sense and was terribly-written, and you spent an hour just trying to figure out what the damn argument was, and Jungkook captured it. You were there for an hour and Jungkook was there too, watching you like it was nothing, waiting for the perfect moment. He was there, sitting across from you, camera at the ready. You didn’t even hear it click. 

He closes it before you get a closer look at the photo, frantically hitting the little red dot at the top corner of the window before you have a chance to ask why. 

“What, I’m not allowed to see?” You chide, a little bit hurt but more confused than anything else. Why is Jungkook being so secretive?

“No,” Jungkook spits quickly. making you raise an eyebrow in alarm. “I mean, it’s a surprise. You get to see when it’s finished. I still have to… uh, edit. And stuff.”

“Edit? You think I’m that ugly?” You tease, knowing that he probably means color correction but enjoying the way that he gets all flustered when he hears your voice.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at that, like he just realized he made a wrong turn and is desperately backtracking. “What, no! I don’t—I don’t think you’re ugly.”

You laugh, letting the sound of your voice ease the tension in his shoulders, reveling in the way his big doe eyes seem to soften when he realizes you were just teasing. He looks like a kid caught stealing a candy bar from a gas station, looks like one of those boyfriends in the viral videos where the girl reveals that she got him a present or something instead, all nervous and full of explanations. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure him, rubbing up and down his arm to soothe him, calm his heart down. “You don’t have to show me. I’m just excited. No one’s ever taken photos of me like this before.”

“I would,” Jungkook speaks up softly. “If you asked. I would.”

“I know,” You say. You’re not sure if there’s a thing in this world Jungkook wouldn’t do for you, and you, him. If he asked, you would pluck the stars from the sky for him. Bring him back a piece of the moon. Stop time. Anything. Everything. Just for him. “I know.”

 “What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, changing the topic as he whirls around in his gaming chair. 

“Just another reading, like always,” you dismiss, because you’re positive the last thing Jungkook wants to hear about right now is your primary source reading on irrigation techniques in agrarian Europe. You don’t even want to hear about it. “But I could use some help on Astronomy.”

Without another word, Jungkook gets up from his desk and the two of you head over to his bed, where an untouched problem set waits on your computer. He grabs a notebook from his backpack along the way before sitting down next to you on the edge of his bed, bodies pressed together. Slowly, he begins to coach you through each problem, step by step, drawing pictures and diagrams if he has to, until you finish all ten problems. 

The truth is, you didn’t really need help with this unit. Astronomy’s gotten a lot easier now that Jungkook has taught you the strategies to tackle it. But Jungkook sometimes feels like a ghost when he works, especially when he’s sitting at his desk, quiet and focused and almost invisible. And call you clingy, but you like it when you can look up and see his face instead of the back of a chair, a little tuft of wavy brown hair. You like it when he’s right beside you, in a place where you know you won’t lose him, where you can hold on if things get rough. Where you can see his stupid brown eyes and his goofy smile and know that he’ll always be there for you. 

When he’s finished, Jungkook doesn’t get back up to sit at his desk. He flops down on his back, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the cracks. You join him, side by side, pretending that there’s something there. Looking up at the sky would be nicer, but it doesn’t really matter, so long as you’re with him.

“I didn’t know you took so many photos,” you say.

“I never want to miss anything.”

“You should give me more warnings, next time. I feel like I look so ugly in some of them.”

“No, you don’t. Don’t say stuff like that.”

“You don’t think I’m ugly?” You ask him, for real this time. It’s not that you think he’s going to say that he does, it’s that you want to know what he really thinks. How he really sees you. You turn your head to him, back pressed against his comforter, barely a foot apart. And he turns back to you, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, big brown eyes wide and blinking. He’s right there, how could you miss him?

“No,” Jungkook says, honest and true. He looks at you, looks right at you, right into you, and he muses to himself, chuckling. “Why would I ever think that?”

At the end of the day, you can’t really be bothered to put on real pants in anticipation of Jungkook’s trigger-happy camera-taking tendencies. He’s seen you spill a boiling hot bowl of tomato soup all over yourself in the dining hall. He’s seen you at four in the morning in the library the night before finals begin, eyebags down to your knees and mismatched shoes on your feet. He’s seen you in the middle of a frat house, sweat dripping down your forehead and smelling of nothing but straight alcohol. Getting dressed up just for him would be antithetical to the very foundation of your friendship. 

You have, however, become keenly more cognizant in the last few days of when Jungkook is about to take a photo of you. Mostly because you glance up at your surroundings every three seconds to make sure you aren’t getting sniped from across the food court. Nobody else needs to see a picture of you picking up three pieces of sushi with your chopsticks and stuffing them all into your mouth at once. And, from what you can tell, you’ve been pretty successful, which either means you’ve gotten better at telling when Jungkook might be taking a photo of you, or Jungkook’s gotten better at hiding it. 

Either way, he’s got a lot more pictures of you reflexively flashing a peace-sign in his direction when you hear the telltale sound of his camera lens focusing, so you’re not really sure what that means for the fate of his portfolio. 

Besides your newfound hyper-awareness of the sound of a camera lens adjusting, the strangest part of you and Jungkook’s little project is how quickly the rest of your friends adjusted to this brand new dynamic. 

This is not to say this assignment is the weirdest thing you and Jungkook have done together, because there was once one week where you and Jungkook challenged each other to only eat bananas for every meal to see if anything would happen to either of you. Nothing did, but after that week you swore off bananas for the rest of your life and have had little appetite for them since. 

It’s more that your other friends have just accepted the fact that ridiculous, extravagant shenanigans are a necessary part of you and Jungkook’s relationship and have simply chosen not to question them anymore. At least, most of them have. 

“So, how’s you and Jungkook’s little photography fling going?” Maisie asks, and even through the phone you can hear the way she’s wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not a fling, and it’s fine,” you hiss back, trying to keep your voice down as you pack up your belongings, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder. “Stop speaking so loudly, everyone else in the library can probably hear you.”

“Good, because they’ve all probably noticed the way Jungkook’s been following you around like an unrestrained fanboy for the past four days taking pictures of you,” Maisie says pointedly, voice so sharp it causes you to look around at the other tables to make sure no one’s listening in. 

You frown, hoping your deadpan expression is audible through the phone. “It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Don’t you think it’s even a little strange that you’ve given Jungkook full permission to take photos of you like you’re a model and he’s some sort of weird, professional paparazzi?” You can practically see Maisie’s face in front of you, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she makes her point.

“No, it’s what we agreed on,” you remind her for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing weird about this. You’re helping him with a project, what more could it be? “Jungkook needed someone to take pictures of for his photography project and I thought it would be a good idea if I was that someone.”

“Hmm… wonder why…” Maisie trails off, deliberately vague and suggestive all at once. 

“You’ve been going on about this ever since Jungkook and I met, Maise,” you say with a roll of your eyes, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “You know that Jungkook and I are just friends. Like we have always been.”

“Friends that take candid photos of each other under the guise of a project,” Maisie adds, and you can see the air quotes around the word “project” right in front of you.

“Friends that help each other out because that’s what friends do,” you correct. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Jungkook and I are always going to be just friends and nothing more. No matter how much money you’ve bet on us getting together.”

Maisie gasps. “I have not bet money on such a thing! This is slander!”

“Don’t think I don’t see you and Jimin’s damn Venmo history.” You pull up to the front desk of the library to check out a primary source book needed for one of your classes. It’s the first edition, and it’s battered beyond belief, but it’s better than paying for it. “Just this, thanks.”

“The only way you could convince me that you and Jungkook are just friends is if you go on a date or something,” Maisie comments snidely. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you romantically interested in someone else the entire time you’ve known each other. Isn’t that proof enough?”

“You want me to go on a date with someone?” You demand, determined to get Maisie to hop off your ass about this. 

You and Jungkook are just friends. If swiping right with someone on Tinder and getting dinner and a movie with them is what will convince Maisie of that, then that is what you will do. It’s not as if being friends with Jungkook is mutually exclusive with you going out with other people. Should be easy, right? 

The boy behind the counter tells you your book is due back at the end of the semester, and you nod your thanks before heading out of the library.

“Fine, I’ll go on a date with someone. If it’ll get you to stop trying to convince me that Jungkook and I are gonna get married and have babies,” you declare, pushing your body against the door handles as you leave, five minutes to spare before your next class begins. 

“You guys would have really cute babies, I’m just saying,” Maisie points out like it’s nothing. 

You roll your eyes, taking the phone away from your ear as your finger hovers over the red button. “See you, Maise.”

You’re barely three steps out of the library, still rolling your eyes at the Call Ended screen on your phone when a voice catches your attention. 

“Y/N!”

You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook’s devilish grin disappear behind his camera, and you don’t even have time to blink before he begins snapping away, finger mashing the silver button at the top as your expression morphs from surprise to defeat, unable to counter his sniping abilities with a signature peace sign. Even from twenty feet away, you can hear Jungkook laughing as you take the opportunity to pose for a few moments, like you really are a model and he really is your personal photographer. The sound of his giggles fills the air, music to your ears, lingering between you like dandelion wisps, blown by the wind. 

Another voice breaks you from your trance. 

“And here we have our resident celebrity and her paparazzi,” Jimin says, motioning to the two of you as he speaks to an enormous tour group of potential applicants and their parents. Caught in front of them, the heat suddenly rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively cover your face, embarrassed to have been pointed out by Jimin, whose amicable, lovable personality is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to his part-time job as a tour guide. 

The worst part is how some of the parents and students seem to believe him for a second, that you really are famous and that Jungkook really is your photographer, looking at the two of you inquisitively as you shrink beneath their gazes. 

“I’m kidding,” Jimin quickly continues as Jungkook joins you where you stand, laughing at the way you look like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re just some friends of mine who we happened to catch outside the library, which is our next stop. But don’t they look so cute together?”

“Are you guys dating?” One of the students pipes up, asking what no one else dared to. 

Your eyes widen at the notion, wondering if you and Jungkook really are cursed to always be mistaken for a couple when you two have never been, and most likely will never be one. Shaking your head, you force out a laugh, “No, we’re just friends.” Beside you, Jungkook is noticeably silent. You suppose he’s gotten just as sick of explaining as you. 

“Bummer, right?” Jimin asks his group, earning a couple of disappointed nods from innocent high-schoolers that still believe in love. “But I’m working on that, so don’t worry. Anyway, this library will be your main destination for studying, book-reading, and everything in between, and is conveniently located two minutes away from the freshman dorms…”

The conversation finally drawn away from you and Jungkook, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in. “Weird, right? Even high-schoolers think we’re together.”

Jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the settings on his camera just to keep his hands busy. The quiet makes you wonder what is going on up inside his head, makes you wonder what it is he’s thinking about, what it is you’re not seeing. Lately, it’s felt like there’s something on Jungkook’s mind you wish he felt comfortable telling you. 

“Hey, you alright?” You ask, giving him a little nudge with your side. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Jungkook says, voice soft, barely audible. It doesn’t make you feel any better. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t you have class soon?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right, fuck,” you say, checking your phone only to find you have barely a minute to get to your next class. Guess you’ll be using one of your allotted absences today. “Thanks for reminding me. Dinner tonight?”

“I’ll text you,” Jungkook promises, and you nod your agreement as you dash off, determined to turn a five-minute walk into a one-minute one with the power of exercise. As you leave, you watch as Jungkook flounders outside the library, staring down at his camera and scrolling through his photos, and you still find yourself feeling like you’re missing something. What is Jungkook not telling you? 

What do you not know?

By the time you reach your class, two minutes late and completely out of breath, tardiness is the last thing on your mind.

This project was just meant to be a friend helping out a friend. So why does it feel like you and Jungkook are losing each other?

Using Tinder is easy. Dangerously so.

You’re no expert in app design, but its simplified “yes or no” mechanic has you swiping through people like it’s an extreme sport, barely giving some of them a second glance if their Tinder profile description doesn’t make you laugh within the first sentence. 

Tinder was, admittedly, not your first choice of potential date-finding methods. Call you old-fashioned, but whatever happened to asking someone in person if they wanted to get a meal with you? To showing up at their doorstep with a rose bouquet and a toothy white grin? Perhaps all of those old-timey movies you and Jungkook always watched have given you unrealistic expectations. But can you blame them? 

Even if Tinder wasn’t your first choice, it was certainly the fastest. It takes a second to look at someone’s designated Tinder thumbnail, two to read their description, and three to decide if they’re worth a swipe right. Compare that to actively meeting up with someone, getting their contact information, and then continuing to dance around each other until you finally decide to get dinner together. That’s the sort of thing that could take weeks. Maybe months. And in some cases, years.

Besides, it’s not like you had very many options at your disposal. You don’t trust Maisie to set you up with someone because she’ll probably just choose one of the many boys from her management class and call it a day. Asking someone yourself is absolutely out of the question. And, for some strange, unknown reason, the idea of getting Jungkook to hook you up with one of his friends just doesn’t sit right with you.

So, Tinder it is. And as it turns out, chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just archaic.

An hour into your mindless swiping, you get a message notification. Two hours after that, you’ve got plans with a nice senior boy whom you’ve never met. 

And for the first time in a very long time, there’s something to mark on your calendar for Saturday night.

The little blue block on your Google Calendar tab stares back at you from where your open laptop sits on your desk, the red line that signifies your current time slowly inching towards it as you fumble around in front of your mirror, more dressed up than you have been in weeks. Maisie was right. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with someone that you’ve completely forgotten what the dress code is for something like this. A dress? Heels? Makeup?

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you will anyway. What if he’s wearing a hoodie and sweats while you look like you’re about to attend the goddamn Academy Awards? Maybe the eyeshadow was a little too much.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks it’s inevitable that you do. The door to your apartment swings open, and you can hear heavy footsteps making their way to your bedroom, that easy gait of his familiar as always.

“Hey, do you think we can just get some take-out and watch a stupid old noir movie, or something? I’ve had a day,” he shouts out, the sigh audible in his voice.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you definitely have when you turn around to see Jungkook standing right outside your bedroom in the floppiest sweater you’ve ever seen and jeans with holes in the knees, mouth agape as he stares straight at you. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes are blown wide at the sight of you, at the way they rake up and down your figure, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing. It’s impossible not to notice how he seems to flounder at the sight of you.

The only thing that breaks the both of you out of your stupors, frozen in place like two criminals caught red-handed, is the sound of his hulking black backpack thudding to the floor. 

“Whoa.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” You ask, voice wobbly. God, why are you so nervous? It’s just Jungkook. 

“Too much for what?” Jungkook blinks, deliberate and slow, as if he’s determined to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “Where are you going?”

“I think we’ll have to do a raincheck for the noir movie and takeout,” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips together in fright as you force out a small, tense smile. “I’m… going out. With someone.”

“Like,” Jungkook begins, and even from here you can hear the way he stops himself, hear him breathe out every word, thick on his tongue. “On a date?”

“Yeah.”

It’s a one-syllable word and yet it takes nearly all of your willpower just to say it. Just to confirm what Jungkook’s already thinking. Just to tell him, your best friend, your ride or die, your number one, that you’re going out on a date. 

“Oh.” Jungkook’s voice is lifeless. “Do I know them?”

“No, uh, it’s just some guy I met on Tinder. I don’t know, I just wanted to see what all the hype was about, I guess. And I haven’t really been on a date in a while, so I figured I might just take up the opportunity, so we’re probably just going to go out to a restaurant and maybe go to a club afterwards if we’re still in the mood, and—” You cut yourself off, so nervous that you’ve resorted to your terrible habit of rambling to try and ease the tension. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?”

“You use Tinder?” Jungkook asks instead. It sounds like he’s shocked to hear this. 

“Yeah…” you trail off. “Why?”

Jungkook freezes at the question, but it’s not because it seems like he doesn’t have an answer. It’s because it seems like he does. Only it’s an answer he doesn’t want to share. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he eventually settles on, shaking his head. “You, uh, you look good.”

“You think? I feel like it’s a lot. I don’t know how to dress appropriately for stuff like this anymore,” you ask, palms sweaty as you furiously straighten out the skirt of your dress. “Should I change into pants, or anything?”

“No, no, I think that’s fine,” Jungkook says with an honest smile. “You look nice like this.”

“It’s probably been like, a year since you last saw me in a dress,” you comment mindlessly, turning back to face the mirror as you fiddle with your makeup, finger wiping away a bit of smudged lipstick or a stray bit of mascara. “I miss my sweats. Hey, whoa, wait, what are you doing—?”

You whip around to find Jungkook slowly fishing out the camera from his backpack, hand gripping it tightly as he brandishes it in front of you. 

“I, um, I just wanted to see if I could maybe take a photo of you,” Jungkook says, a small, little grin decorating his features. “Since you’re all dressed up.”

“Seriously?” You ask in disbelief. 

Jungkook nods, holding the camera out in front of him. “Just one.”

He looks so small, standing across your bedroom. He looks so small and delicate and intimate, body curled in on itself ever so slightly as he looks at you, the yellow glow of your ceiling light reflected in his hazelnut eyes, drowning beneath his clothes. He looks like he has never seen a moment more perfect, never seen an opportunity as clear, looks like he thinks that if he blinks he’ll miss it. 

Looks as if a photo will be the only way to remember it. 

And you nod. Because he is your best friend, and who are you to deny him of something so simple? Of a press of a button? It doesn’t feel like a project anymore. It just feels like a memory. 

Jungkook brings the camera to his eye, and you smile at him, soft and gentle and warm. He grins back, focusing the camera lens before snapping away. 

You wonder what he sees. 

(You wonder if it’s as beautiful as what you see.)

“Have fun tonight, okay?” Jungkook asks of you as your Google Calendar notification sounds, letting you know you have approximately two minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up outside your apartment.

You nod. “I will. And if I don’t, then I’ll come over afterwards. And we can watch that stupid noir film.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, a shrug of his shoulders. 

“But I want to. So I will. Okay? I’ll text you,” you promise. “Don’t think I’ll forget about you.”

Jungkook smiles at your little tease, at the way you cup the side of his jaw with your hand as you head towards your front door. 

“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook sputters out, running after you. He reaches you right as you get to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. You turn to look at him, blinking. “I hope tonight is everything you dreamed of.”

There is something so distinctly sad in his voice. It makes you wonder who has broken his heart. Makes you wonder what you can do to fix it.

“Even if it’s not,” you say to him, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it tight, reminding him that, no matter what, you’re still here. “I know you’ll always be there to take care of me afterwards.”

Your phone buzzes with a message from your date, and you scurry out the door. 

For some reason, there’s a part of you that wishes you never even left. 

The date is okay. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. By the time you finished eating, it was obvious neither of you had any interest in continuing the night elsewhere, whether it be a club or a karaoke bar. He pays for your meal despite your insistence that you can handle the check perfectly fine on your own, thanks you for a nice night, and drops you right back at your apartment. And so goes your one and only Tinder experience, blowing away like a leaf in the wind. 

You look down at your phone. It isn’t even nine o’clock yet. 

[November 7th, 8:48PM]

You: you still game for that movie?

[November 7th, 8:50PM]

Jungkook: you finished your date already?

You: is that a yes or a no

Jungkook: my door is always open, you know that

You: you’re gonna get robbed one day and it’s gonna be by me You: i’m coming over

The walk from your apartment to Jungkook’s is six minutes and thirty seconds on a good day, and seven minutes and fifteen seconds on a bad day, which is usually dependent on if the traffic light over the main road has decided to be extra slow or not. You could walk the damn route in your sleep if you really wanted, having done it so many times in the last year and a half, ever since he moved out of on-campus housing and into his own place.

Tonight, it takes you nearly eight minutes to get to his apartment, but you mostly chalk that up to the heels you’re wearing. If you cared any less about your dignity, you’d probably take them off and walk barefoot like a defeated heroine in a romance movie, shoes dangling from your fingers as they hang low by your side. 

But you aren’t defeated. You didn’t have the world’s most spectacular date, but the night isn’t over just yet. 

Jungkook’s waiting at his front door by the time you arrive. 

“Eight minutes, huh? You’re getting old,” he asks snidely, looking down at the invisible watch on his wrist. 

“Your counting is just off,” you retort easily, falling into that same friendly rhythm, that familiar little beat that the two of you share. You push past him and into his apartment, instantly feeling more at home, shoulders sinking and heartbeat soothing as you soak in the scent of his room, of his home, of him. 

“How’d it go?” Jungkook asks, eyes hopeful as they watch you tug off your heels. They were hardly three inches tall and yet you still want nothing to do with them. 

You shrug. “Eh. It was okay.”

“Just okay?” Jungkook asks, sounding seriously upset for you. Upset that you didn’t have a good night even after you promised him that you would. Upset that it didn’t turn out to be everything you wanted. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, looking over at him, dejected. “It just—I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to work out.”

Jungkook scowls to himself, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to figure out what exactly you mean by that. And the truth is, you’re not sure either. The date was fine, and he was nice, but even when you first met it felt like you weren’t going to get what you wanted from him. Like you were just going on the date to go on the date. Like you already knew that it would mean nothing. 

Jungkook was going to be waiting for you at the end of the night whether it went amazingly well or terribly bad. And knowing that, strangely enough, almost made you want the date to be horrible. Like it would make seeing Jungkook afterwards that much sweeter. 

“Oh,” Jungkook says lamely. “Well, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were really looking forward to it.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him. “Can we just watch this movie now and make fun of how sexist it is? Please?”

To that, Jungkook easily agrees. As he’s queueing up the movie, you raid his closet for a hoodie and sweatpants, desperate to strip yourself of your dress and tights and cozy up in clothes that are much more appropriate for your comfort level. At this point in your friendship, Jungkook doesn’t even question it when he sees you march into his room, fishing through his closet and drawers for your favorite matching set of his, this grey pair that he’s worn so much it still smells like him even after it’s come right out of the wash. 

He only stares back in awe when he sees you emerge from his bedroom wearing them. 

“Ready?” You ask, breaking him from his resolve.

Jungkook blinks wildly from where he’s seated on his dinky old couch, as if to clear his vision. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Then hurry it up, Mister,” you demand, sitting down next to him and curling into his body. It’s instinctual, at this point, wanting to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his body radiate upon your own. To feel his chest beneath the palm of your hands, his arm wrapped around your side. “All good?” You ask, looking up at him. 

Jungkook looks down at you, and you swear, you’ve never seen him more at home. “Always, when I’m with you.”

The movie is predictably good and predictably sexist, but your favorite part by far is when Jungkook reaches around on the coffee table in front of you for his camera, holding it up to his eye and snatching a picture of the television, the film grainy like an old polaroid, faded like an antique photograph. He clicks away at the scene in front of him before turning on you, the lens so close to your face you’re almost certain all he’ll manage to capture is your nose. You laugh, pushing yourself away from him as he snaps, and snaps, and snaps, image after image after image, until his camera battery has died and there’s no more room left on his card. 

“Guess I’ll have to charge this thing, then,” Jungkook sighs as he declares his camera dead, screen black. 

“You aren’t going to include any of those, are you?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 

Jungkook shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you have enough?” You deadpan, thinking back to the hundreds of photos Jungkook must have taken of you over the past week, and even more that you don’t know about. There’s certainly no shortage of them in his current camera inventory. That’s for sure. 

“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. He stretches out an open arm, and you don’t have to think twice about falling into it, letting him wrap you up in his hold, curling into his body. 

The black television screen crackles before you, DVD player waiting for Jungkook to turn it off. There’s no need for either of you to look up at each other. Not when you’re strung together like this. Not when you already know exactly where he is. 

“It’s due on Monday, right?” You inquire softly, fatigue slowly overtaking you. 

“Yeah. I’m almost finished, just have to do some curating and editing.”

“I want to see it.”

“What? My project?”

“What else?”

“It’s just a project, it’s not that exciting.”

You pull away from him at that, looking up at him with furrowed brows and scrunched-up nose. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that exciting’? It’s your photography project. You’ve spent a whole week working on it.”

“Yeah, but it’s just you, you know?” Jungkook objects. “Like, you know what you look like. It’s just going to be a bunch of photos of you, like I said it’d be.”

“That’s exactly why I want to see it,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You took pictures of me for a whole week. Don’t you want to share them with me?”

“If you really want some of the photos, I’ll send you some, but you don’t need to see the whole portfolio, you know? It’s just for my professor,” Jungkook says stiffly, surprisingly resistant. What’s the big deal? It’s not like there will suddenly be new information about you that you didn’t know before. You want to see what Jungkook has been working tirelessly on this entire week. Where’s the harm in that?

“Why are you getting so hung up on this? It’s just photos,” you say with a frown. 

“Why are you getting so hung up on this?” Jungkook challenges back. 

You sigh, sinking back into him, defeated. Even a little disagreement like that is enough to knock the wind out of the both of you, so you decide not to push it much further. 

“Do you promise to show me eventually?” You ask, hopeful.

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you almost expect him to say no, considering how protective of his work he’s being. “One day,” he declares. “One day, I will.”

And that’s good enough for you. 

You lose track of how much time passes after that, feeling your eyelids getting heavy as the warmth of his body envelopes you, drowsiness settling in. There’s just something about this moment, right here, right now, that makes you want to fall asleep.

You’re on the verge of slumber when Jungkook’s voice breaks through.

“Why didn’t you think your date would work out?”

“I don’t know,” you respond sleepily, barely even opening your eyes. “It just felt wrong.”

“How do you know what feels right?”

Good question. Perhaps if you had the energy, you’d answer it. But right now, all you can think about is how cozy you feel in Jungkook’s hoodie and sweatpants, how the scent of him surrounds you, that indescribable, boyish aroma that can’t be replicated. Right now, all you can think about is how easily your body molds into his, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Right now, all you can think about is him. 

The worst part about each and every week is when it ends. Because the end of one week signifies the beginning of the next, and when you’re in university, the beginning of the next week means a whole new batch of assignments that you have to complete and a whole new batch of due dates to meet. 

So, yeah. The weeks have been blurring together for you lately. But what else could you expect?

Sunday evening, as per usual, finds you right back where you always are: Jungkook’s apartment. 

The two of you have been regularly getting together on Sundays to study, ever since you both realized you work significantly harder when motivated by the other, determined to finish all of your work on time so you can spend the rest of the night fooling around by mixing Monster with as many unhealthy drinks that you can possibly think of. And it’s been working out well for the both of you so far. Jungkook powers through his coding assignments and you whiz through your readings, intent on keeping up to date with your tasks so they don’t all come crashing down on you at the end of the semester. 

Studying with Jungkook has always been easy, largely due to the fact that it’s the one allotted time during your friendship where the both of you deem it best to not speak to each other for the sake of your work. The moment one of you opens your mouth it’s over, so you sit on opposite ends of the room and pretend that the other person isn’t even there. 

Jungkook told you earlier today that he had already finished his photography portfolio, so there would unfortunately be no sneaky glances over his shoulder to see if you can catch a glimpse of one of the pictures. Which is fine by you, you’re just a little embarrassed that Jungkook had told you this outright. Not that you were planning to do exactly that, but you were planning to do exactly that. 

Part of you. more than anything, wants to know why Jungkook won’t just show you himself. Why he’s being so secretive, so protective of his photography project when you both know already exactly what’s in it. For God’s sake, he just spent the entire week taking photos of you non-stop. It’s like not as if any part of this is a mystery to either of you. What more could he have done?

Whatever. You aren’t going to force it if he doesn’t want you to. You suppose that maybe one day, far into the future, he’ll finally decide that the time is right. 

“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook declares lifelessly as he gets up from where he’s sitting on your bed, dead inside. “I need a break.”

“Are you going to the kitchen? Can you make me some tea, please?” You ask him, looking up from the laptop on your desk. 

Jungkook nods wordlessly before disappearing out of the room. 

You and Jungkook’s best study practice to maximize productivity is the taking of each other’s cell phones so that the other cannot be tempted to look at it. It’s worked plenty of times before and will probably work plenty of times again, because as they say, out of sight, out of mind. 

Unfortunately, it’s hard to pretend that your phone is out of sight when it’s been buzzing on your bedside table for the past five minutes, and your fingers have been itching to get over there and answer your damn notifications. So, while Jungkook is out of the room, you decide to cheat a little by dashing over there just to see what the heck is going on in the rest of the world. 

As it turns out, nothing much. Just Maisie texting you as she binges yet another television show, giving spoiler-free updates anytime anything remotely dramatic happens. You have a couple of new emails as well. 

The thing that actually catches your attention the most, is Jungkook’s laptop screen. 

There’s just a Word document open on it, but a Word document is a far cry from his usual coding program or Photoshop. Because you can’t help yourself, you peer over to see what he’s written. 

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Hard to say that I have. I don’t think I learned something about myself so much as I confirmed what I already knew, cementing it as a real thought in my brain, rather than just a daydream. Nothing changed in the way that my best friend and I interacted, and I can almost confirm that nothing changed in the way that she feels about me, just as nothing changed in the way I feel about her. I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her. 

What?

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Not as a reference but to remind myself of this very moment in my life—a single week over the course of my life that I felt was worth saving. I imagine that there will come a time, far in the future, where my best friend and I have separated a little bit, found our own lives and created our own families with our own people. And when that happens, I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

This feels personal. Maybe you should stop reading. But there’s just one more question left on the page… 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. If it meant getting to spend more time with her, take more photos of her, see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

“Y/N?”

You hadn’t even heard the kettle whistling. 

“Jungkook,” you say, breathless, caught red-handed. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, placing your steaming cup of tea down on the desk as he stares back at you in horror, in surprise, in worry, in something. Something that gives you this imminent sense of impending doom. 

“Uh—”

“Were you reading my computer screen?”

It’s not like you could say you were doing anything else. 

“I couldn’t help myself, I came over here to check my phone since it’s been buzzing like crazy and your computer was right there and I just…” you sputter out, thoughts swirling inside your head. 

(I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

If it meant getting to see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.)

“What do you mean, how you feel about me?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. Because the sound of his voices echoes in your head like the beat of a drum, over and over and over. Because you’re staring back at him and even if he just caught you snooping through his computer you can never be worried when it comes to him. Because everything he has ever done puts you at ease. 

“Y/N, that is private, why would you read something like that?” He asks, each word a sucker punch into your heart. 

“Because I just had to know, okay?” You shout back. “I had to know what you were hiding from me.”

“So you decided to snoop through my computer to see if you could figure it out yourself?” He demands, storming over to you. 

“So you are hiding something?”

“That’s not the point, the point is that—”

“What are you not telling me, Jungkook?” You cry out, watching as he approaches you, dark eyes piercing your gaze. “Why won’t you show me your goddamn portfolio? If there’s really nothing to be afraid of, why are you keeping it from me? I’m your best friend, I’m the fucking subject of your project? Don’t I deserve to see it? Why won’t you show me?”

“Because then you’d know!” Jungkook shouts back, leaving deafening silence in his wake. You look up at him, blinking. In front of you, Jungkook is out of breath, chest heaving. 

He looks so strained. So tired. Like he’s been carrying around this secret for months now, maybe even years, and this is the final straw. This is what has sent the both of you crashing down upon each other. This stupid fucking project. You’ve known Jungkook ever since the beginning of your freshman year, and never before have you seen him so hopeless. 

“Jungkook—?”

“You’d know, goddamnit,” Jungkook says, hand coming up to rub at his forehead, dragging down his cheek. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.”

“Know what? What would I know?” 

Jungkook closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again. “That I’m in love with you.”

The words drift in between the two of you, hovering in the air like feathers. You see them, clear as day, in front of you, hear them echoing in your head, over and over and over again. Feel the way your blood is pumping, the way your heart is beating. 

“You’re in love with me?” You ask him. 

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Jungkook admits. “Or at all, really. But I have been, for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”

You chuckle, a small, little thing from the back of your throat. “You must have known I’d never let that happen, hmm?”

Jungkook smiles softly. “I was scared. Can you blame me? You’re my best friend.”

“And you are mine,” you remind him. 

“It’s just—” Jungkook begins, like the gates of a dam are opening up. “We’d known each other for so long, and we have such a good thing going as is, always texting and calling and hanging out together, studying together on Sunday nights and seeing each other during the week, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. And then my professor assigned this project, and the only person I could think of to take photos was you, but I didn’t want to ask that of you in case you thought it was weird, but you suggested it anyway so I said yes, but I knew. I knew then that the moment I took one goddamn photo of you it would be obvious, and that if you ever saw you would just know. Stuff like that is easy to pick up in pictures, because a camera is like, tunnel vision for whatever it is you want to focus on most, and that’s you, that’s always been you, so I—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, reaching out to him, pressing a soft hand to his cheek. “Just, shut up, okay?”

And then you cup his head in both of your hands, and press a kiss to his lips. A small one, if nothing else, but a kiss nonetheless. You press your lips against his own and immediately you feel the sparks rush through you, this flash of heat that settles into something softer, something sweeter. It ignites and soothes you all at once, like a stray lightning bolt out on the open ocean. Like a single clap of thunder and the pitter patter of rain. 

You press a kiss to his lips and when you pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. And for a moment there, you almost think you did the wrong thing. 

But barely a second more passes before he’s scooping you up in his arms and pulling you in close to him, his lips finding yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He holds you tight, hands pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you, warm and fiery and full, as if he can’t get enough, as if this is his only chance. You gasp into it before relaxing in his hold, cold hands on his warm cheeks, body melting at the feeling of him, of him all over you, of his hands and his mouth and his chest, this perfect, solid figure. 

He kisses you and it sends heat shooting through your body, filling you up from the inside out, like your heart has burst and filled your bloodstream with fire, with sparks of warmth that tingle all over. He kisses you, and everywhere his hands press is another sizzle to your skin, an electric shock that makes you giggle into his mouth. 

He kisses you and it feels like a storm has settled, feels like gentle rain after a hurricane, feels like waves crashing against the shore. He kisses you and it is the only thing you can think about. 

By the time you part once more, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so blissed out. 

“See?” You point out softly. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

Jungkook looks positively dazed. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Ooh, was I that good?” You tease.

“I’m dreaming.” He shakes his head. “I’m definitely fucking dreaming.”

Jungkook sinks onto your bed, hitting the mattress with a thud. He stares mindlessly in front of him, like his brain needs time to process. 

You smile to yourself. He can have all the time in the world. 

“Is this real?” He mumbles when you sit down next to him, press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Are you real?”

“Just like you,” you promise him. “I didn’t know this is what we had been missing, all this time.”

“It wasn’t missing,” Jungkook assures you. “It was just hidden.”

“I love you,” you whisper, watching him swallow the words like a glass of wine. “I think I always have. You just needed to say it first.”

“Oblivious as always.” Jungkook grins, smiling against your lips. “But I’m glad. If this is what it would take, then I’m glad.”

“You wouldn’t change anything?” You ask him, eyes wide and curious. 

It’s hard to know how long you and Jungkook have been secretly pining over each other. Hard to know how long Jungkook has known that he’s loved you, how long it’s been since you started to feel the same, even if subconsciously. It’s hard to know how long you would have kept going if not for this project. It might have been months. Years. Years that Jungkook was willing to spend holding back, if only it meant keeping you by his side. 

“No,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “I have you now. Why would I?”

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Previously, I had responded to this question by saying that I hadn’t learned anything, and felt that nothing changed in my life. Then, some things happened. And after those things, I learned that I am the luckiest man alive. To know my best friend is one thing. To love her is a privilege. To have her love me back is nothing less than a miracle.

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Every day for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as thankful to receive a homework assignment as I am, right now. I owe everything to this project. It is the reason I have her. 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. I want to take photos of her for the rest of my life. I want to save every memory we ever share together. So that far into the future, we can look back on them together and say, “Remember that?”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[meetmymouth]

AUBADE ; HARRY STYLES

WORD COUNT: 12k

warnings: smut, smoking, alcohol consumption.

thank you @harryandhockey​ and @burberryharold​ for beta-ing this baby, you guys are the sweetest angels! 

When the doorbell goes off for the third time that night, she groans and tosses the lipstick on her bed, then makes her way towards the door. Through the stained glass, she sees a tall figure and rolls her eyes.

“Look, this is the third time- oh. It’s you.”

The blonde raises her eyebrows, “Who were you expecting? Also wow, I feel so welcome, thank you.”

“Sorry,” the door closes behind Charlotte, and they walk inside.

Once in the tiny kitchen, kettle already on, she takes time to coat her eyelashes with mascara.

“Who did you think I was, that was quite the welcome.”

“Couple of girls kept knocking on the door. Something about a survey. I’ve no idea. Hey, can you help me put this on?” She takes a necklace out of her jean pocket and hands it over.

It’s Thursday, which means happy hour at their local pub and after that, they’d take N31 towards Camden to listen to a friend of Charlotte’s, an upcoming indie artist. She usually didn’t like going out on weekdays since she worked 8 to 4 and she would need to wake up at 6AM sharp to get ready and leave her flat for her Friday shift. But ever since Charlotte started working for the touring musician Harry Styles, they saw each other twice- once when they toured England and the second one being right before Charlotte left for tour. Being close friends since school, it was safe to say that she felt her absence and missed her friend dearly but were also so proud of her for everything she’d achieved.

So when Charlotte came home during their break, she wanted to spend as much time as possible with her friend and if it meant spending her Friday shift hungover while cleaning up animal urine and puke from all kinds of animals, then so be it.

“There,” Charlotte pats her on the neck after she clasps the necklace and she turns around, hand reaching to turn the kettle off.

“Ta. When are we leaving? And do you think I should go for my Adidas or the boots?” She points at the heeled boots, half white half black by the kitchen entrance and Charlotte follows her gaze as she sips the hot beverage.

She looks at the boots, then her, then the boots again, “The boots for fuckin’ sure. They’re sick- where’d you get them?”

“Depop,” She lets out a chuckle, “Think they’re Topshop, ‘m not sure. Should we leave? Y’know I walk dead slow and now that I’m wearin’ the boots…”

“You really do...go get your shit, I’ll wash this.”

They’re gathered around a round table, the green paint of the wooden table beginning to chip, and everyone’s got drinks of their own, G&T being the most popular choice. There are only five of them, Charlotte, her, Phoebe and her girlfriend Jamie, and they’re chatting about anything and everything until Charlotte turns to her, straw between her red lips.

“So-”

“Oh dear, what have you done,” she cuts her off and earns a glare from her, and from the corner of her eye, she sees Phoebe and Jamie cross their arms as if they’re getting ready for their usual bickering.

“Fuck you,” Charlotte sighs, “I didn’t do anything. I just invited some more people to Julien’s show and wanted to...kinda ask if that’s alright with you”

“Oh,” she looks around the table, finding the other girls looking at their phones and she turns to Charlotte, “It’s fine. Who are they?”

Phoebe snorts at that and her eyebrows raise in question. She gives Phoebe a look, but Charlotte’s quicker as she throws a damp tissue at the blonde and Jamie laughs when it lands back on Charlotte’s lap. “You know Sarah from the band?”

“Oh, yeah!”

She remembers meeting Sarah at Charlotte’s new flat after she moved to London, the brunette bringing a cute snake plant and a weird- but cute tea set as a housewarming gift and they got on well. They talked about plants, Sarah giving her tips on how to keep certain plants alive, and she asked her lots of questions about her experience being a woman, especially a drummer in the music industry. Sarah was very soft spoken; she spoke as if she was talking to a baby, but she always made sure to maintain eye contact when she was having a conversation with you, listening and nodding when appropriate so that you felt special and...understood. She was lovely, which was why she found it weird how Charlotte was acting awkward about her joining them tonight.

“And her boyfriend, Mitch, of course,” Charlotte adds and she nods, motioning for her to keep going. “And Harry.”

“Harry Styles?”

“Oh boy,” Jamie whistles.

“Obviously,” Charlotte sucks on her straw, slurping her drink, “Yeah, him,” she repeats, this time softer.

“I...why?” She chooses to ask, surprised as she’d like to think Harry Styles as this unreachable, ever-so-busy person who wouldn’t be interested in a night out like this. She turns to Phoebe, and then Jamie, and they respond with a shrug as Phoebe goes back to cuddling into Jamie’s side.

“What do you mean why?” Charlotte places her drink on the table, “It would be rude not to since I asked Sarah and Mitch.”

“Well, I just mean, isn’t he busy?”

Jamie whistles again and sings her name, “You got a crush, babes?”

“Nonsense, never even met the guy- which,” she looks around the table, “-is one of the reasons why I was confused. Anyway, it doesn't matter,” she shrugs and turns to Charlotte, “I’m not bothered, Lotts, it’s totally fine.”

“Y’sure?”

She gives her a nod, “I just find him intimidating and don’t think he’d be into indie, that’s all.”

It was true. Despite having not met Mr. Harry Styles, deep down she knew he’d be intimidating because he was so good looking and well, just like most people, she loved One Direction. She was a big fan, she even got told off by her stepmother once when she was younger because apparently the tape she used to hang her One Direction posters was ruining the walls. She often referred to them as twinks, and she didn’t even know what it meant until she was older. She remembers how she got made fun of at sixth form because one of the girls found her old Tumblr and told everyone about it. Harry’s never been her favourite though. Not because she didn’t find him attractive, not at all. It was because he was too attractive and was everyone’s favourite so whenever asked, she’d shrug and tell people how she found Louis funny, and then Zayn because ’he’s the hottest’.

Long story short, despite her friendship with Charlotte, she’d never met Harry, never had the opportunity to attend one of his shows because she was either too busy or they were playing in a different country and she simply couldn’t afford it. So tonight would be the first time they’d get to be in the same place and to say that she was nervous would be an understatement. And her, she always thought she was awkward. Way too awkward for social gatherings but she liked going out regardless, drinking cheap alcohol and dancing to shitty songs in an equally shitty pub. She loved being a student. Loved the freedom the title had given her. What’s your occupation, she’d get asked from time to time. Student, she’d say without hesitating. She was a student. She didn’t have to be anything else for three years. Sure, she was also working part time at an animal shelter but for the most part, she loved being a student. That’s how she met Phoebe, and then Jamie. In a way, she was their matchmaker.

She remembers meeting Phoebe last year when they had a class together. She was the first person to smile at her in the overcrowded lecture theatre and she remembers thinking how nice Phoebe’s green fringe looked. Meeting Jamie though, was funny. Phoebe usually got weird when they joked about it since she met Jamie before Phoebe did on Tinder, even went on a date with her, and then right before she was about to ghost her, she thought of how similar Phoebe and Jamie were. It was then that she made Phoebe go on a date with Jamie, and after a month of pining, they got together. Even though they were similar, she always thought that they actually completed each other, Jamie being the logical one and Phoebe encouraging Jamie to let loose from time to time and live in the moment.

Charlotte reaches and boops her nose, “He’s a musician, he loves all kinds of music. He won’t eat you, babe. He’s nice, I promise.”

Phoebe knocks on the wood, getting everyone’s attention, “Can we get a picture with him? An autograph?”

She feels a throbbing pain in her feet, toes in particular once they’re in and they wait for Phoebe and Jamie to buy their drinks, knowing she’d wake up with blisters in the morning. Charlotte takes out her phone and presumably texts the others, letting them know they were already here. She felt nervous. Nervous because she always thought she was rubbish when it came to meeting new people; they either thought she was too intimidating or rude but in reality, it was only because she always felt anxious meeting new people and would rather stay quiet than talking nonsense.

She takes time to analyse her outfit, a pair of black mom jeans and her boots, oh the boots who were currently grilling her feet. Then she tries to adjust her lace bodysuit, all of a sudden feeling super self conscious about the ”revealing” outfit. She adjusts the top, hoping her tits weren’t out before, and sighs when she touches the oversized blazer, rolling up the sleeves a bit more since it was beginning to get warm, too warm for her liking inside. Considering how she often felt self conscious about her arms, she felt more comfortable with the blazer over the sexy bodysuit.

“So,” she starts, eyes studying the crowded bar before her gaze stops at Charlotte, “Are they here?”

Charlotte looks up from her phone and nods, leaning her head on her shoulder. She feels her arm going around her waist and smiles, nudging her head with hers and she looks up, giving her a smile of her own. “What’s up, blondie?” she asks, hand coming up to ruffle Charlotte’s fringe.

She sighs, “Just tired, to be honest. I’m glad I wore trainers.”

“At least one of us is happy about their shoe choice.”

They watch as Phoebe and Jamie walk towards them, the brunette handing her a tall glass as Phoebe hands Charlotte her own drink. “When’s she on?”

Everyone turns to Charlotte, “Half an hour, maybe?”

“When are your friends coming? It’s getting quite...stuffy in here,” Jamie looks around and Phoebe nods, hands going around Jamie’s waist to pull the brunette into her.

“I texted Sarah and she said Harry was parking the car- oh, I see Mitch.”

They all look around, and she spots the tall guy with long hair, walking towards them with Sarah and Harry behind. She gulps and tries to look away, praying that no one takes notice of her sweaty forehead and shaky hands.

As the trio walk towards them, she takes a moment to examine Harry, and his outfit. Even in the dimly lit bar, she’s almost sure the high waisted trousers he has on are navy, and he’s got a tan...or a beige shirt tucked in them, chest on full display and she notices a cross necklace, looking as if it was made for his pretty neck. She clears her throat as quietly as she can and looks down but not before she takes a peek at his shoes, and she almost snorts at the choice of red boots he’s got on, noticing how everyone had trainers on while the two of them had what looked like very uncomfortable boots on.

To be honest, she thinks, he looks pretty good. She looks around them, noticing how most guys had jeans and ugly trainers on whereas Harry looked like he made quite the effort with his outfit but she also knows that even if he turned up in jeans and ugly trainers, he would still look amazing. Damn Harry Styles. Was she blushing?

The three of them are in their space now, close enough so she can make out Sarah’s overpowering perfume, and she clears her throat once again when Charlotte embraces Sarah first, then Mitch. Before she can watch her hug Harry, Sarah’s in front of her.

“Hi,” she smiles, going in for a hug, “It’s so nice to see you again. It’s been a while,” she says and her voice comes out muffled since they’re still hugging and she hopes her hair smells decent because Sarah’s face is pressed against her neck and hair.

“It’s nice to see you too! How have you been?”

“‘Been alright, I suppose!” She beams at her and turns to the man with long hair, “This is Mitch.”

As Sarah introduces everyone with Mitch, she feels Harry’s eyes on her, though she can’t turn her head and meet his gaze because that’d be rude seeing how Mitch is about to reach and give her a one armed hug. Alright then, she thinks, they’re a hugger. Then, it’s Harry’s turn. She looks at him, seeing how his eyes are focused on Phoebe and Jamie as he gives them both a warm smile before Charlotte starts talking again, introducing everyone to Phoebe and Jamie, then everyone turns to her, and she feels her face heat up seeing how everyone’s attention is on her now. She knows it’s her turn.

Harry takes a step forward and her earlier thoughts are confirmed when she can finally make out the colour of his trousers. “Hey, ‘m Harry,” he gives her a smile without waiting for Charlotte to speak, “Nice meeting you,” he comes closer and wraps an arm around her, engulfing her in a hug but it’s definitely different from Mitch or Sarah’s hug. It’s tight, much warmer and he’s got both arms around her, palms flat against her back as he rubs her back.

And of course she responds with the same warmness and hugs him back, “Hiya,” she introduces herself, and once they pull apart, he repeats her name and it sounds like poetry, something so personal and...erotic. But maybe, she thinks, maybe it’s just his deep voice making her feel that way.

Despite the moment they shared, if she could call it that, felt like hours, it was merely a minute. And it wasn’t like in the films where they hug, everything around them slowing down as the people watch in awe. No, not at all. When she looks around, she sees that everyone’s been already mingling, Phoebe and Jamie smiling at each other while they sipped their drinks, and Mitch is nowhere to be seen, possibly at the bar getting drinks.

Harry turns to Charlotte with a grin, “So is she any good, should we replace you with her?” He says, nudging her with his hip.

That sort of makes her smile, seeing Harry so carefree and friendly with the people who are essentially working for him. Even though she doesn’t know Harry Styles like they do, like Charlotte does, she knows he considers these people to be his friends and colleagues rather than his employees. It’s also fun seeing him this friendly with her best friend, and she feels proud, as she always does, knowing Charlotte has made herself great friends and that she clearly enjoys working with these people.

Charlotte nudges him back, “She’s great, I wouldn’t mind being replaced by her. Oh, there she is,” she points at the stage, and everyone turns to look at the pink-haired girl on the tiny stage with a sleek looking acoustic guitar on her side. As the others start talking about Julien, she finally takes the opportunity to look at Harry. Once their eyes meet, he gives her a smile, dimples on full display, and she swears she could see him blush when he looks down after she beamed at him. Even if he did blush though, he recovers quickly when he’s offered a drink and he mutters a thank you to Mitch, then lifts the slice of lime off the rim of his glass and sucks it into his mouth and she deems it as a good time to look away.

And she does, when she feels Sarah close, and she turns to her, Sarah welcoming her with a smile, “How’s uni? It’s your last year, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” she clears her throat, “It’s alright. Exhausting, but alright.”

“You’re working too, right?”

“Yeah, I work at an animal shelter.”

“It must be exhausting.”

“It is,” she gives her a nod, “I work three days a week and I also have classes so I only have Sundays off. I’ll probably leave and focus on uni after Christmas break though, I have my dissertation next semester.”

“Oh, cool! I miss being a student,” she purses her lips and turns to Harry, who had been listening to their conversation, his pretty fingers, most of them adorned with equally pretty rings, wrapped around the tall glass, “You probably can’t relate, H, can ya?”

He rolls her eyes but laughs regardless, “Piss off.”

Despite the chatter around them, it’s not ridiculously loud so they can carry a conversation without having to shout. They fall into an easy conversation, everyone joining in, and all of a sudden a pink neon light falls over them and they all turn to the stage. Julien starts singing, and all the chatter around them dies down, some people already starting to sing the words back at her.

She looks away from the stage for a minute and catches Harry’s gaze from across the room. They’re close enough for her to make out a few droplets of sweat on Harry’s forehead, and their eyes meet as he gives her a smile, eyes sparkling with mischief, then brings the glass up to his mouth. She watches as his top lip rests on the rim before he lifts it to his mouth and when she looks up, she sees him still looking at, gaze unwavering and mouth curled upwards in a sly smirk. She was caught. She was caught and he looked like he was loving and devouring every second of it.

Julien takes a break, promising to come back with a brand new song from her upcoming EP, and there’s a group of people making their way towards the exit, presumably to have a smoke and get some fresh air.

“Where’s she gone?” Charlotte huffs, eyes searching the room for the pink haired girl.

“She’s over there,” Phoebe points at Julien and they all turn to where she’s pointing at, spotting Julien near the bar with a drink in hand.

“Is she flirting?”

“She’s got groupies already?” she says after she takes her eyes off of Harry and everyone laughs.

Charlotte comes closer and nudges her shoulder against her, “You’d know, wouldn’t you?” “Be quiet,” she nudges back, and their group falls back into their conversation except Harry, who keeps staring at her and she gulps, hands reaching to feel her blazer pockets.

“Right,” she mutters, “It’s time to poison myself. I’m going out for a fag,” once she feels the bulge in her pocket, she turns to Charlotte, “Send me a text when she’s back on, yeah?”

“I’ll come with.”

She looks up at Harry, surprised, but nods, waiting for him to follow her outside. Even though she tries her best not to make eye contact with anyone as they leave, she’s aware of them watching them, everyone in their group equally surprised, but they keep walking, Harry following quietly behind. Once they pass the smelly bodies, they’re finally outside, the wind licking her face once she steps out and she tries to hug herself closer, seeing how the thin blazer’s not doing a good job at keeping her warm.

Harry wishes he’d brought a coat.

They’re quiet as he follows her to a quiet corner, only a few people turning their heads their way, presumably recognising him, and they stop near a brick wall and she takes her tobacco out of her left pocket. She looks up, catching him staring at her ring-clad fingers wrapped around the dark green packet, and she clears her throat, making him look up at her. They share a smile, both feeling at ease with the comfortable silence between them. She spots a wooden bench near and sits down, hands already working the packet open. When she starts tearing the tobacco apart, Harry can’t help but note how quickly she’s working it between her fingers, and he’s almost certain she’s been doing this for years.

“Want one?” She asks and he saunters forward, coming to stand in front of her with hands in his pockets.

He shrugs and she takes that as a yes, fingers pausing their work on the tobacco to take out something that resembles a cigarette and it’s only when she pushes it from the bottom that Harry realises they’re filters. Placing one between her lips, her fingers dip into her pocket once again to retrieve some papers and Harry finds himself unable to look away from her lips and how pretty they look with something between them.

He looks down at her lap, where the packet of tobacco is, seeing her fingers work swiftly as she fills the thin paper, and despite knowing better not to glamorise something as horrible and disgusting as smoking, he takes his time to admire the way she pushes down the tobacco with her index finger, presumably trying to fit and secure everything inside the paper. Taking the filter from between her lips, she places it inside the paper, at the very end, and her fingers start rolling.

Oh fuck, he thinks, knowing what’s about to come. Unable to look away, he watches as she brings it up to her mouth and licks a long stripe along the paper, and despite the lack of lighting around them, his eyes make out her pink tongue moving along the paper and it doesn’t come as a surprise when he feels a sudden twitch in his trousers at the unholy image before his eyes.

“There,” she hands him the rolled up cigarette, “Hope you don’t mind that I licked?”

He wants to laugh because of course he doesn’t mind. In fact, he quite enjoyed it, according to the knot in his stomach and his twitching cock in his underwear. He enjoyed it so much that he now couldn’t stop imagining her mouth doing other things, preferably dirty things with, or to him.

“Nah, it’s all good, thanks.”

“No probs. Didn’t take you as the smoking type,” she lets it slip out.

“I...don’t smoke, really. Only sometimes. When I’m drinking. Which…” He looks at the cigarette between her fingers, “...isn’t that often.”

She notices the nervousness that tinges his words, and it makes her feel better knowing he’s also as awkward as her. “Fair,” she sends him a smile and repeats all the steps on her own rollie, putting it between her lips just like Harry, and she takes her lighter out of the same pocket. She lights her own first and reaches to light his, and he sort of bends over until his cigarette reaches the lighter. They both take a hefty drag of their cigarettes and she blows the smoke out first, Harry watching her pursed lips as he lets out his own next, both of their cigarette smoke swirling in the air and joining in together.

He takes it out of his mouth and lets his arm dangle on his side, cigarette between his fingers, and watches as she takes another drag before fumbling with the packet on her lap, putting everything back in her pocket haphazardly.

“Do you go to uni in London, or?”

“Westminster, yeah,” she takes another drag and notices how Harry hasn’t taken another one of his since.

“Nice,” he says and a grin stretches over his face, “Charlotte talks about you a lot.”

“She does?”

“Yeah, all the time. If I didn’t know about her boyfriend I’d say she was in love with you,” he laughs and gestured to the lighter in her hand and she lets him take the lighter from her hand, watching as the flame lick at the cigarette between Harry’s lip and he takes a long drag. “I mean, we...the band feel like we already know you. It’s sweet, how much she cares about you.”

“Well, I’m pretty hard not to love, you know.”

He blows out the smoke, a chuckle escaping his mouth, “That right?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking great.”

“Well, I-”

He gets interrupted by her phone going off and a pout forms on his face. She huffs, looking around, then throws the cigarette on the ground despite the sign and he does the same, not feeling bad in the slightest. “We going in?” He asks, like a lost puppy waiting for his owner’s command.

“I guess. Is it bad that I don’t want to? Like...does that make me a bad friend?”

“Nah. I...I kinda wanted to stay here too. I was enjoying our conversation.”

She sends him a grin, eyes mischievous, and stops walking, “You telling me you weren’t bored to death by my dry ass conversation?”

“Dry? You opened up and talked about your narcissistic behaviours, that’s not boring, darling,” he smirks and she rolls her eyes, hand reaching to slap his chest and it feels easy, like they’ve known each other for years. “Alright, alright, ’m just messing with you.”

She starts walking again, a few steps ahead of him, and he follows, passing three girls with phones up to their faces.

It’s easy, he thinks, it’s easy with her.

People in the bar begin to leave one by one, and it’s only their small group and a few others left, some of them still sipping their drinks and the others talking and laughing. Some even come up to Julien, who’s sipping her water from a reusable water bottle as Charlotte keeps snapping pictures of her, and they all congratulate her, telling her how excited they are about the EP. She’s all smiles, fringe sticking to her forehead due to sweat, and her long arms are equally sweaty, dressed in a tight black dress with striped knee high socks adorning her long legs, and a pair of platform Mary Janes.

“So,” Harry says, folding his arms across his chest, “Do you have any plans for October?”

Mitch snorts across him and Julien tilts her head, puzzled, “Erm...I’ve no idea, to be honest. It’s months away and God knows I’m shite at thinking ahead. That’s why I’m friends with this lot,” she gestures to their tiny group, causing Charlotte to snort and Julien continues, turning her attention to her who’s playing with the hem of her blazer,  “This one though...”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Oi, what’s crawled up your bum, eh?” Julien turns to Harry again, catching how his gaze flickered over her body, then her face instead of looking at Julien and she finds herself smirking at the tension between the two.

“We’re thinking of putting a show together for Halloween. I have a bunch of new and upcoming artists in my mind that I’d love to see perform that night. Would you be interested?” Harry’s attention is back on Julien and he watches as the girl gasps, eyes widening in excitement.

“Shut the fuck up!” She yells, almost dropping her water bottle and they all laugh, Charlotte reaching to flip her on the forehead and she slaps her freshly-manicured hand away, “You’re not taking the piss, are you?”

Harry laughs, “Am definitely not. I love your vibe. That’s actually one of the reasons why I asked Charlotte if I could come tonight,” he says as he runs his fingers through his hair, the strands gliding easily between his long fingers.

“Yeah,” Charlotte smiles at Julien, “He’s on a hunt. He thinks he’s one of those talent agents. Just say yes, Jules, it’ll be fun.”

“Holy fuck. Yes. Fuck, yes. Of fucking course, yes!”

They all laugh when she lunges herself at Harry, arms wrapping around his neck, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, fuck I could literally kiss you right now but I won’t, I’ve been watching you both undress each other with your eyes all night,” arms still around Harry’s neck, Julien turns her head towards her, whom Harry’s been looking at all night, and gives her a wink before breaking their hug. “So, do I have to do anything? What do I have to do? Fuck, I’m so bad at this-”

“Hey,” Harry interrupts, “It’s fine. Relax. Are you signed with anyone? Have a manager?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m with Gleam, my manager, Alana, she’s sick that’s why she wasn't here tonight.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Just give me your phone number and your manager’s contact details and we’ll sort everything out. Hey- relax, it’s gonna be fun!” He reaches and gives her shoulder a squeeze.

“I called an Uber,” Sarah says after her phone goes off, “And it looks like…” she taps on the screen a few times, “Hassan is here.”

“We could’ve gotten maccies,” she says, pouting, as her head rests on Charlotte’s shoulder.

Sarah sighs, cuddling closer into Mitch’s side, “We’re leaving for Brighton tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, Sarah’s making us wake up at, like, five,” Mitch grumbles.

They all start walking towards the exit, Julien and Harry in the back talking about the show as Charlotte links her arm with her as they follow behind the others. As they walk, she remembers how Harry arrived with Sarah and Mitch, meaning they shared a ride, and she turns to look at Harry who seems to be in deep conversation as he waves his hands around.

She feels hot all of a sudden, remembering how neither of them wanted to go inside earlier, how good he looked and how his voice sounded, deep, so deep, when his attention was only on her and not the girl on the stage or his drink or the people around them. As selfish as it sounds, she wanted all his attention on her, she wanted him to only look at her, see her, think of her, and she feels foolish because they only met tonight, and their conversation earlier didn’t last that long.

Once they’re outside, everyone sighs, almost in relief as the fresh air fills their lungs, and everyone bids their goodbyes to Sarah and Mitch, then Phoebe starts complaining about how uncomfortable and tired she was.

“That’s it from us, folks, my wife needs a shower,” Jamie pinches Phoebe’s cheek as Phoebe blushes, swatting her hand away.

She turns to Harry for a second and he’s just standing there, arms folded with an expression she’s unable to read, and Julien laughs, muttering something about catching a black cab since she now has money to waste.

Everyone leaves and it’s only them, and Charlotte comes closer to her as she nudges her hip with hers, “Hey. Is it cool if Harry gives you a ride? Tom’s picking me up.”

She panics and gives her a puzzled look. A car ride with Harry. Alone. Just the two of them.

She swallows, “How come you never mention it?”

“He just texted me, we’re driving up to Manc. Will you be okay?” She reaches and strokes her cheek, then turns to Harry, as if the question was directed at both of them.

“Well, yeah...I mean- I’ll call a Bolt or something-”

“It’s fine, I can give you a ride,” Harry says, hands now in his pockets. He looks like he’s cold too, considering how he’s only wearing a thin shirt and his chest is on full display, letting the breeze softly lick at the flesh.

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother, I can take a Bolt. Really, it’s fine.”

“I insist...whereabouts is your place?”

“Ehm,” she sniffs and her eyes look for Charlotte for a moment, and when she spots her, she’s watching them despite the phone pressed against her ear. “Marylebone.”

“Great! That alright with you?”

She looks at Charlotte again, the short haired girl failing to meet her gaze, and she turns to Harry again, lips pursed, “I guess- I mean...sure. Okay.”

Harry beams at that, the dimple on his left cheek widening with the smile, and she wants to reach out and touch it, place her finger there. She doesn’t though. Instead, she gives him a smile and looks down at her boots, feeling all giddy inside with the realisation that she’d be alone with Harry for a while and it would also be away from any prying eyes, in the warmth of his car.

Charlotte comes back and reaches for her, giving her a big hug as she buries her head in her neck, and she involuntarily breathes in the smell of cigarettes and Charlotte’s personal favourite, Chanel no. 5.

“Text me when you’re home, yeah? And text me if you need anything...he’s nice, I promise,” she whispers the last part, as if she’s letting her in on a secret, then reaches for Harry to give him a hug.

“Drive safe,” she says, walking backwards, “I mean it.”

“I will. Precious cargo, am I right?”

Harry opens the door for her and waits for her to get in, her lips form the words ‘thank you’, and once they’re both inside, seatbelts on, Harry sighs and tries to fix his creased shirt. She watches his hands, the rings catching the light coming from a lamppost outside, creating beams, and she notices the single, nearly-chipped gold nail polish on his left pinky.

“So…” they both say at the same time and he laughs, shaking his head, and a few strands fall to his eyes.

She chuckles too, eyes falling to her hands on her lap as she fiddles with them. “I think we’ve been set up,” she mumbles and looks up at him, finding him watching her carefully with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh.

“Yeah? You think so?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m usually not this dumb.”

“Maybe you wanted play dumb, hm?” He gives her a smile, causing her to scoff, and he surprises them both when his left hand reaches to stroke her cheek, making goosebumps appear on her skin and she swears she could hear her breath hitch at the warm touch, feeling hot all over.

They stare at each other, his hand still on her cheek, and she swallows, “Sure, whatever you say.”

“Is this okay?” He asks, gesturing at the touch, voice as soft and smooth as honey.

She nods, because it is. It is more than okay and if it were up to her, they’d already be kissing, tasting each other’s dirty, sweaty skin and touching each other all over, feeling each other’s bodies...she wanted all of that.

She swallows again, his gaze shifting from her face to her neck, then lower and lower until it reaches her boobs. They look divine, he thinks, despite the lack of lighting in his car, they look absolutely gorgeous, sort of spilling out from the lace material and he gulps, hand beginning to make its way down to her neck. He rests it there as long fingers caress the side of her neck, discovering a few moles there, and he looks up at her, only to find her eyes fixed on his lap. He looks down to, the slight tent not coming as a surprise, and he gives her a grin, the other hand coming to rest atop his bulge.

“Hm?” He hums as he waits for her answer despite knowing what she would say.

She clears her throat and looks around, seeing the almost empty parking lot all dark except the stop sign near the exit, and turns her attention back to Harry.

“Yes. It’s okay.”

“Mmm,” his fingers curl around her throat, thumb stroking the flesh there, “Thank you, love. Can I kiss you?”

“You can...Please,” she practically moans when his thumb presses a sweet spot on her neck and he gives her a smile, hand reaching to unbuckle both of their seatbelts with a click.

It doesn’t happen that fast. First, he gives her a look, almost as if he’s trying to remember where her lips are and the nose, then her eyes...he keeps looking, and looking, and he brings his hand up to her mouth, resting his thumb on her bottom lip as her eyes shift downwards with the movement. While he watches her, she takes her time to watch him, his face, and she feels something bubbling inside her, much like the bubbles that rise to the top when you open a coke bottle.

Pressure, she thinks, pressure and the need to devour him. Thus, without thinking too much, she reaches and grabs him by the nape of his neck, his hand falling atop the car seat as their lips meet, both of them hungry for each other’s touch as their teeth clash and Harry lets out a hiss when she bites his bottom lip, suckining it into her mouth.

His hands go up to her cheeks, pushing her far enough to look into her face and eyes in particular and he smiles, the inside of his palms feeling the soft peach fuzz on her face. When she lunges forward to continue their kiss, he stops her, thumb stroking her cheekbones as she lets out a huff, and he chuckles, “Slow, baby, slow. We’ve got time. I want to feel you, taste you as much as I can, yeah?”

She nods, letting him stroke the side of her face some more and feel her skin against his soft hands before he starts leaning in, this time slow, so slow that it feels like hours to her. Before she closes her eyes, she catches a glimpse of his pink tongue dart out to lick his lips, and he finally captures her top lip, sucking it into his mouth softly and she melts under his touch, her mouth pursed as she starts responding with her own kisses. Their lips, she feels, fit together like a puzzle piece.

Harry’s tongue swipes across her bottom lip and she opens wider, letting him lick into her mouth further. It’s hot, wet, and she feels herself getting wetter and wetter as the smooch noises grow louder with each kiss. His hands are now cupping both of her cheeks, and as he presses wet pecks on her parted mouth, one of his thumbs travel down to her mouth and he stops their kiss, and she opens her eyes, giving him a puzzled look.

He shushes her, lips pursed as he does so, and her eyes watches the movement, wanting to feel them all over her body now that she knows how he feels and tastes like. He presses his thumb against her bottom lip, then into her mouth and pulls her closer to him. He shuts his eyes and tilts his head when she closes her mouth around his thumb, sucking it like a lolly, and his cock twitches in his trousers again as he watches the way she sucks on his flesh, humming around it as if she’s having the most delicious meal of her life.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, “Y’like playing with me, don’t you?”

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she takes his thumb out of her mouth with a pop and she holds him by the wrist, placing his hand on one of her boobs and Harry lets her warm hands and the feeling of lace overpower him as he gives her boob a squeeze, then travels his hand down to where he supposes her nipple is and brushes a thumb over it, a beaming grin stretching across his face when he feels her pebbled nipple under his thumb.

When he looks at her face, she’s biting her lips, eyes shut, and he bites his own lips as he traps her covered nipple between his thumb and index finger, tweaking it gently which causes her to breathe out a moan, toes curling involuntarily inside her boots. He tugs at it, then his hand travels up and he looks at her, as if to ask her permission for what he’s about to do. And she nods, of course she does, and she feels her upper torso getting sore from the position they’ve been in but she lets it go, reaching for his hand near her boob and places it on top of his, encouraging him to keep going.

With her hand on top of his, he slides the bodysuit down from the top, and he feels his cock twitch in interest so he has to bring his other hand down to press against his bulge over his trousers in hopes of relieving some of the tension. He plays with her nipple, tweaking and squeezing it between his fingers before finally leaning to capture the pebbled nipple into his mouth. “God damn, your tits...so fuckin’ hot, baby,” he bites her nipple and she shudders, back arching in pleasure. “Wanna do everything with you...wanna fuck you- wanna fuck these tits,” he whispers against her nipple, now wet with his spit, and his hot breath sends chills down her spine.

It’s warm, his mouth, so warm and wet around her hard nipples and she lets out another moan, arms wrapping around his neck and she tries to press against him closer. “Fuck,” a moan leaver her mouth, “Please, Harry, fuck me. Do something, just- ‘m so wet.”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Jesus,” he presses a kiss to her nipple before he frees her other boob from the fabric, “You’re so fuckin’ hot. Got me so fuckin’ hard, just look at these gorgeous tits, baby. Bet your cunt’s even more gorgeous, hm?” He whispers, hands already on the other boob, squeezing the nipple and he watches as it hardens, looking so pretty and puckered for him and he gets his mouth on that one too, licking across the nipple before he bites it into his mouth.

“Can I take this off, sweetheart?” He touches her shoulder, squeezing her there over the blazer, and when he sees the hesitation in her eyes, he travels his hand up to her neck and strokes it there, “Y’don’t have to, darling. However you’re comfortable.”

“No,” she says ever so softly, “It’s okay.”

He smiles at her as she takes the jacket off and throws it somewhere at her feet. Harry grabs her by the neck and brings her in for another kiss but this time, it’s slow. And sweet. Slow, sweet, and warm, so warm that she feels it in her chest, in her stomach, and it reaches everywhere, the kiss warming anything and everything inside her. He swipes a tongue across her bottom lip before pulling away, and places both hands on her boobs, squeezing them, mouth popping open as he watches them in awe.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he brings one of his hands to the front of his trousers and the heels of his palms press against the bulge, but instead of giving him some relief, the touch makes him hiss, wishing for something softer, warmer.

“Can I fuck you? I need to fuck you, please, sweetheart,” he whispers and she nods, tongue darting out to lick her dry lips and he nods as well, looking around inside the car, swiftly examining the tinted black windows before he turns to her, “I hate that I’m about to fuck that pretty pussy in the backseat of my car instead of a comfortable bed but I need it so bad, sweetheart, I need you,” he licks his lips, “That okay?”

“Yes...more than.”

He helps her move to the backseat, boobs still hanging from the top, and he joins her in the backseat quickly. They’re closer now, nothing serving as a barrier between them, and with the way they’re facing each other, she can make out a tiny pimple on the side of his nose as well as a little mole on his forehead. Her gaze falls to his bulge again, and he’s already fumbling to get them off. With a swallow, she shuts her eyes so she doesn’t see Harry watching her intently, dilated pupils fixated on her sweaty skin, her lips in particular.

He leans in and presses an open mouth kiss to her damp skin, the touch making her open her eyes.

Take it off” she whispers, voice as sweet as honey, “Come on, I want you to fuck me,” she breathes against his hair, his head now in the crook of her neck, and she feels him nod, his hands coming to rest atop hers.

He fumbles with the button with shaky hands, her hands coming to rest on Harry’s waist and he sighs in relief when he hears the zipper. He lowers his trousers along with his underwear clumsily, the pile of material pooling around his ankles. He’s hard and leaking already, the tip an angry shade of red, and she takes a few seconds to admire the thickness of his cock and how pretty it looks, his dark, coarse pubic hair making her mouth water as she imagines deepthroating him, nuzzling the hair at the base of his cock.

Harry looks up and she’s got one hand on her boob while the other rubs herself through her jeans, presumably feeling aroused with the way the fabric is feeling against her pussy. A low, choked ‘fuck’ leaves his mouth following a growl as his long fingers begin unbuttoning the beige shirt and she watches, bottom lip trapped between her teeth with fingers rubbing herself.

Once it’s unbuttoned, he’s quick to get his hands on her jeans, eyes briefly searching for something in hers before he starts unbuttoning them. She stops him and bends over to take her boots off and he watches her back, hand reaching involuntarily to travel his fingers down her spine, stroking her waist before he bends forward to place a kiss on there as she keeps fumbling with her boots. Once they’re off, he’s quick to help her get the jeans off too, and he throws them in the front seat, smiling when she hears her giggle.

“Alright, Miss Giggles?” he says softly, palm resting on top of her thigh as one of his hands reaches and strokes the side of her face, fingers playing in her wild strands of hair.

She bites her lip again, giving him a nod, and he brings her face into his, lips pressing a tender kiss to her chin before he opens his mouth slightly and grazes his teeth across the flesh, and he presses a final, loud kiss there before he pulls away with a pop, leaving her chin all shiny and wet with his saliva. He lowers his eyes and spots her thong, fabric too tiny and flimsy to cover all the areas of her pussy, and he lets out a groan at the sight, hand immediately reaching to touch what’s under her little thong.

“So pretty, darling...so, so pretty,” he murmurs and she watches with parted legs as he positions his middle finger against her pussy over the black lace, thin, so he feels just how warm and wet she is between her folds. This makes him pause to look down at his cock, just to make sure he’s not about to spill all over the carseat since he feels the pleasure at the tip of his cock, ready to explode right then and there. “How can anyone ever resist you, hm? This pretty girl…” with one hand still between her legs, he reaches with his other hand and ghosts his thumb over her nipple, his other hand working her thong as he pulls it to the side, “...this pretty pussy,” he murmurs, making her eyes lull shut at the compliments.

She parts her legs wider to give him more room to work with, and he grins as he looks up at her hungry eyes, knowing what she’s asking for. And god, is he about to give her what she wants. The way she looks, not just half naked but from the moment he’d caught a glimpse of the grumpy girl across the room, it’s been driving him insane. Not that she was rude or looked bored, but she looked cute, kinda nervous, as if she too was as uncomfortable as Harry by the prying eyes and tipsy chatter around them.

From the moment they were introduced, Harry knew she didn’t particularly like to be looked at. Maybe he was being judgmental, or reading too much into things, but he got the impression that she was sort of nervous to be around people, especially new people. He tried his hardest not to be some weirdo, an utter creep who kept looking at the beautiful girl across him but truth be told, it wasn’t the first time Harry had seen the girl’s face.

He knew of her, stories about her, from Charlotte, and saw numerous photos and throwback videos of them on Charlotte’s Instagram, but he would never actually admit to the fact that he’d clicked on her tag on one of Charlotte’s posts, and scrolled through her feed for hours, giggling from time to time at her silly captions and numerous pictures of a Golden Retriever and a black cat cuddling.

Yes, he might have found her interesting, took a few screenshots of her posts where she proudly displayed her favourite reads, immediately ordering everything on there, and a few funny memes, but now with his middle finger circling her clit, he would never, ever admit any of that to anyone, ever.

“Harry,” she breathes, and it sounds sort of harsh, rough even, the reason presumably being a mix of the cigarettes she’d been smoking and the way his finger teasingly, slowly moves over her pussy. “Harry…” she says again, melodiously, fingers curling around his wrist and he looks up with a grin, eyes almost evil, dark and pupils dilated from hunger bubbling up inside him.

He retracts his finger and brings it up to his mouth slowly, her eyes watching him like a hawk, and his pink tongue darts out, licking a long stripe up his middle finger and he truly devours the savoury taste, eyes finding hers as he sucks the finger into his mouth. “Taste so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “Want me to play with that beautiful cunt, hm? Give it my full attention?”

“Yes, please, I need it so bad, I’ve been waiting for so long.”

“Yeah?” He asks, ever so softly, “How long?” He presses, his middle finger once again placed between her wet folds, and she wraps her fingers around his wrist.

There’s a bloom of pleasure in her voice when she lets out a shaky breath, a stuttered ’yeah’ because she doesn’t want to give in to Harry’s teasing game, and he leans forward, capturing her chin with his mouth as he bites the flesh while the pads of his finger massages slow and deep over her swollen clit.

He feels the spongy bit under his touch, “Tell me you’ve been thinking of this too,” he breathes against her wet chin, then brings his middle finger down to her hole. It’s wet, so fucking wet when he drags his finger back up and circles her clit faster than before which makes her legs kick out in pleasure, one hand grabbing harshly at her boob as the other go up to Harry’s soft hair and she pulls, fingernails scratching his scalp while doing so. He groans against her skin and drags his finger down to her slick little hole again, circling around the wet, soft muscle and he pushes his finger in, her cunt making a wet, lovely sound as he does so as his eyes fall to his throbbing cock.

It’s so hard, an unpleasant feeling blooming inside, so he takes his finger out of her hole, making her let out a tiny whimper as she clenches around nothing with the sudden loss of his touch. Harry brings his finger up to his mouth, and his pink tongue darts out to lick, mouth closing around to devour the slightly salty slickness.

“Can I fuck you now?” He asks as his hand goes to stroke the side of her neck, goosebumps appearing immediately at the touch. She shudders, unable to respond and Harry’s voice is softer this time, “Can I, baby? Will you let me fuck your pretty pussy now? I need it so bad, sweetheart, so fucking bad. See how hard I am for you? So fucking hard for you, baby.”

“God,” another shaky breath, “Please, I’m so wet and horny- I need it, Harry, please.”

“Need my cock, yeah? Need me to fill that little hole? Stretch your tiny little hole, darling?”

“Fuck- please, I- please stop teasing me, I need it...please, fuck me.”

Harry feels something, a prickly sensation inside him, his groin tightening, and he knows it’s her dirty mouth and sweet face to blame. He looks down at his cock, hard as rock between his legs, and grabs her by the waist, pulling her on top of him with ease. “There, sweet girl.”

He lets out a hiss when her warm pussy makes contact with his cock and she bites her lip, leaning forward until their sweaty foreheads meet. “Your pussy’s so fuckin’ warm. Shit, we need condoms,” a strong arm wraps around her waist and she gasps when he leans forward so suddenly. His face is buried into her boobs as he tries to retrieve his wallet from one of the compartments in between and she watches him struggle, unable to control a tiny laugh escaping her mouth.

“Well,” Harry mumbles, warm lips making her skin feel all tingly, “This is lovely...mmm,” a few kisses are pressed between her boobs, then another open mouth one on her left nipple, and they’re finally back to their previous position, condom package between Harry’s lips as he rips the top, never once taking his eyes off of her while doing so.

“Ready for me?” He gives himself a few lazy pulls, thumbing at the tip while she watches, one hand kneading her boob. “Hm? Ready to take my cock?” He moves his hand slowly, up and down, causing her to swallow.

“Yeah...fuck yeah. Please, fuck me.”

He looks up at her as the rubber works its way down his cock, and she joins her arms around his neck, fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, and he brings his cock to her cunt, earning a moan from her, her warm breath licking at his face ever so softly. He grunts, voice strained with pleasure when he feels how warm and wet she is at the touch of his cock and slides it against her warmth before he brings it down to her tight little hole and pauses there.

“Y’ready, sweet girl?” He nudges their foreheads together and it’s sweet, so sweet despite the position they’re in, and she nods, feeling their damp foreheads stick together, and Harry gives her a bright smile, dimple appearing on his left cheek.

And he pushes it in. With his thumb pressed against the tip, he pushes his cock inside her, the tightness squeezing his already sensitive cock as if she doesn’t want to let him go, as if she wants to keep him inside of her forever and ever.

“God, such a tight cunt, baby. Squeezing me already, hm?” He murmurs into her mouth, “Easy, darling...slow. Slow, yeah? Want to feel you properly,” his hands go up to her hips, holding her there to still the movement of her hips, and her arms loop around his sweaty neck, fingernails scratching the back of his neck and he hisses, face moving forward to press a bruising kiss on her parted mouth.

Once she calms down, hips stilled, his strong arms begin moving her up and down and they both moan, quick breaths leaving their mouths and mixing together just like how their bodies are almost joined together, two becoming one, and Harry starts moving his own hips so he can fuck into her as she helps her by moving her own hips up and down, slowly, just like he’d asked her to, feeling his cock stretching her tight hole with his every move. There’s a honking outside and both their movements still for a second, and a muffled chuckle leaves her mouth, arms tightening around Harry’s neck.

Their eyes meet, Harry’s mouth turning upwards, “What’s so funny, Miss Giggles, hm?” He murmurs as his hips speed up again, their skins slapping against each other as his cock strokes the insides of her walls ever so softly, sliding in and out of her.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking big, I- I knew you’d be big but...fuck, you’re so good, so fucking good, Harry,” she moans, earning a grunt from him as she meets his thrusts, her hands sliding down to Harry’s shoulders and squeezing his smooth skin briefly before she brings her palms down to her chest.

She strokes the hair on his chest, admiring the way his cross necklace sits proudly there, amongst his now damp chest hair, and she brings her palm to one of his nipples, thumb stroking the slightly darker nub and he lets out a groan as goosebumps appear on his chest and nipples.

“God,” she breathes and Harry can smell the fruity-sour alcohol on her breath, and his mouth pops open when she tweaks his sensitive nipples. “I love your nipples,” she moans again when his cock brushes that sweet spot inside her and he does too, arms tightening around her waist, and she tweaks his nipples again, this time harder as her hips speed up, ass slapping against his meaty thighs and she keeps jumps up on down on his cock.

As she does so, her boobs too move, bouncing up and down with her every movement and Harry reaches with one hand, capturing one of her nipples between his fingers as he tweaks left and right before letting it go, watching her skin prickle at the touch.

“Shit, y’feel amazing, just wanna keep you forever,” he groans, low and delirious, fingernails digging into her waist as he thrusts into her, “So fuckin’ tight around me...so tight and snug. I want you- want this everyday. Wanna be able to touch you, kiss that little face everyday, fuck this beautiful pussy...so good, darling, you’re so fuckin’ good, letting me fuck that sweet cunt in the backseat, hm? Are you good,” he breathes her name into her mouth, then bites her bottom lip, earning a gasp from her when his thrusts become particularly rough. “Are you a good girl?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m good, I’m so good, please- I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum please keep fucking me, keep fucking me hard, Harry- keep going,” she speeds up her movements, Harry’s cock sliding in and out of her as wet, dirty sounds fill the car and he curses under his breath, hips lifting off the seat to meet her strokes.

“Are you close?” He manages to ask, a low grunt in his voice.

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she brings one hand down to her pussy and begins rubbing her clit, moaning when she touches the little nub and then, with her other hand, she reaches for Harry’s face, thumb stroking the side of the smooth skin before she places it on his bottom lip and presses hard, making him part his mouth. She pushes it in, eyes lulling shut at the feeling of his warm tongue as he sucks on her thumb, hips continuing their movements as he fucks her cunt with quick, rough thrusts.

When she opens her eyes, Harry’s watching her, sweat glistening on his forehead and she brings her finger down to where Harry’s cock meets her warmth and rubs the top of his cock, moaning when she feels the vein there. She brings it up to her clit again, all wet and warm, and she rubs harder with rough strokes as Harry juts his hips forward a few more times. “I’m gonna cum, fuck- I’m gonna fuckin’ cum, baby,” his grip tightens on her waist and she places her hands on his shoulder, squeezing there.

“Come on me, I want it on my tits,” she mutters, fingernails digging into the smooth skin of his shoulders and he lets out a grunt, pulling out quickly as she gets down, Harry’s legs parting immediately so she can get between them.

And she does, gets on her knees between Harry’s parted legs as he takes the condom off, hissing at the feeling as he tosses it somewhere on the floor, and he begins stroking his now-wet cock as she thumbs at her nipples, kneading her boobs before pushing them together. His wrist works harder and quicker at the sight and he finally comes undone, his warm cum spilling onto her boobs, decorating her soft flesh with white stripes and she looks down, watching with sparkling eyes.

“God, fuck,” he breathes, letting his head tilt back, “You’re something else, y’know that?”

She hums, sending him a grin as he gives himself three more lazy strokes before he lets go of his cock and watches the spattered cum against her skin separate with the movement when she lets them go.

“Got some on your top, sorry, love.”

She looks down, then swipes a thumb across her skin and brings it up to her mouth. Pushing it in, she sucks around her digit as she tastes the salty-sour taste and Harry watches, all wrecked and fucked out.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re so naughty...come up here,” his ring-clad fingers reach for her wrist and he helps her sit next to him.

He reaches the little pocket behind one of the seats, taking out some tissues as she watches him take out a few and clean her up as much as he can. Then their eyes meet, both sleepy and wrecked, and he lifts his hand up to her cheek, stroking it, and she leans into the touch, making him smile. “You’re lovely,” he mumbles, hand still on her cheek.

“You’re lovelier.”

He chuckles as she fixes her top, “You really are. Really lovely.”

“Stop it, I’m not good with compliments.”

“Well,” he shrugs, reaching for his trousers on the front seat, “I said what I said. You hungry? Thirsty?”

“I’m kinda thirsty. Aren’t you?”

As they lean against the bonnet of Harry’s car, now parked outside a McDonald’s, there’s a comfortable silence between them as they sip their waters, bodies close to each other, close enough for Harry to smell his faint cologne on her skin.

“You cold still?”  He turns to her as she takes a bite of her chocolate muffin, and he follows as a few crumbs land on her chest.

“I’m good. Feel very warm...ed up,” she chuckles, thumbing at the corners of her mouth.

Harry groans, nudging her with his shoulders and she nudges back, harder, and he gasps, “Oi, be nice. I’m feeding you.”

“Soz. Guess I owe you like...what is it, a fiver?”

“You’re a very mean girl.”

“I’m the nicest. I’m good,” she gives him a grin, earning another eye roll from him as she takes another sip of her water before placing it on the floor, “Seriously though, thanks for the muffin.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m kinda bummed you turned down the nuggets but…maybe next time?”

“Next time?” She asks, crossing her arms, trying to warm herself up despite her promise from earlier.

“Well,” he clears his throat, hand going up to his necklace, “I’d love to see you sometime. Again. Preferably for longer than an hour and...you know, just us two? Hanging out?”

She smiles and leans forward, taking him by surprise when she presses their lips together. It’s a sweet, slow kiss, and his hands grab the back of her neck, pressing their faces closer as they kiss. Her hands find his waist and she gets on her feet, coming to stand between his legs without breaking their kiss, and she loops her arms around his neck, smiling when he moans at the feeling of her fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

He tastes the muffin, the chocolate, and himself, and as foolish as it sounds, he wishes there was a way to be closer to her somehow, closer than they already are at this moment. She pulls away, their foreheads pressing together as they smile at each other.

Harry scrunches his nose and smiles, bringing it forward so their noses touch, “What was that for?” He whispers, hands tight around her waist as he hugs her closer.

“Just felt like it...just felt like kissing you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like kissing you. I liked kissing you a lot tonight.”

He smiles, nose booping against hers once again, “I liked kissing you a lot too. I’d like to kiss you a lot tomorrow. And maybe the day after that.”

“That’s fine by me. You can kiss me tomorrow...and the day after that,” she whispers, pressing their bodies together.

Harry closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as she watches with curious gaze, eyes crinkling with a smile.

“What are you doing,” she whispers, and he shushes her, smiling when he opens his eyes to find her staring with her eyebrows raised, “What are you doing?” She asks again and he squeezes her waist, forehead pressing against her once again and he leans in closer to press a tiny kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“I’m listening,” he whispers, lips almost touching hers as he speaks.

“Listening? What are you listening to?”

He strokes her cheek, “A song.”

She raises her eyebrow again, “What song? I can’t hear it. Are you- you’re not actually serious, are you?”

“Ssh, it’s a song. Listen,”

“Har-ry,” she groans, pressing her forehead on the crook of his neck, “What is it?”

Harry smiles, arms hugging her closer as she presses a tiny kiss to the side of his neck, “Aubade.”

SEND ME YOUR THOUGHTS ABOUT AUBADE AND PLEASE REBLOG THE FICS YOU’VE READ AND ENJOYED TO SUPPORT AND MOTIVATE WRITERS <3

[soggypotatoes]

also he analysed a ridiculous dream i had so ruthlessly, just read my whole soul, and he told me today he had a dream that i turned up at his house w my bags packed ready to move in and he was like ‘ok!! thisll be fun’ and now im so anxious about what this means omg i want to ask him but the conversation moved on after that..... i want to know what he thinks it means bc im worried that im like, overstepping boundaries or pushing into him too much by messaging so often, hes said a few times he doesnt mind and told me ‘not many people have the green light to talk to me but you do’ he said it with a lot of sincerity IDK WHAT TO MAKE OF THIS LOL

and hes just not the kind of person im used to navigating, i need different software lol idk how this relationship works

i guess thats the thing about bonding with people in rehab... it’s like, a weird dynamic! but it can be so good!!!! i just don’t know how to go about it, should i message him less?? more???? i’m watching for his responses to tell me but im not SURE

i just wanna keep messaging him weird questions and shit i love talking to this guy!!!!!!!!

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Spit-Roast Psychiatrist [Part 3][18+]

<- Part 2 [male reader]  <- Part 2 [female reader] | Part 4 [female reader] -> Part 4 [male reader] ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader x Bryan Kneef

No plot, just fluff. For @thatesqcrush​’s summer bingo: aftercare square.

Warnings: NSFW, immediate aftermath of threesome, cuddling, insecurity, feelings

1,800 words

Bryan Kneef was the type of ruthless lawyer who stood up for the man and stuck it to the little guy. Vulgar, shameless, and tenacious, his name made opposing counsel tremble, and for good reason. He would do anything to win, and would just as soon bribe you, throw you under a bus, or fuck you.

And this man, having just fucked you and Dr. Frederick Chilton raw, was casually humming as he brought clean towels from the bathroom.

“Eyes closed,” he said—a tone that did not allow for argument, but soft, wearing a look of tender concentration on his brow.

Chilton closed his eyes, and he dabbed the warm, wet terrycloth to his cum-spattered face, clearing the stinging release from the area of danger before handing the towel to you to finish the job.

“This one’s dry.” Bryan pointed to a second towel he placed down beside you, then busied himself filling glasses of water from the sink.

As the partner doling out the most punishment, he took responsibility for taking care of everyone.

You guided Chilton to the couch, laying down a towel to catch the slick coating your thighs. He let out a stiff groan as he sank down, his bruised knees protesting, and you continued wiping down his face, stained with your, Bryan’s, and his own release. Some was stuck in his thick brown hair that would need an extra shampooing, some flecked his bare stomach, and swipes transferred from his hands painted his arms and chest. You let him wipe up his own stomach. He was sensitive about the long, raised scar there, which, while it had long ago healed physically, produced a different pain than the kind he got off on. The place he had been brutally violated was the one place treated with dignity.

Bryan returned with the water insisting everyone hydrate. Then he joined you on the couch, sitting beside Chilton, and pulling him down onto his broad, soft chest. Chilton curled his legs over your lap, and you tipped over his back, partially spooning him as he rested on Bryan. You trailed your hand over his back, stroking down the outside of his thigh, and he sighed as Bryan ran his fingers through his sweat-matted hair.

“You did very well,” Bryan cooed. “Our good little fuck toy.”

Chilton’s muscles went rigid. He turned his face down into Bryan’s greying chest hair to hide the color rising on his cheeks, though there was no hiding the blotchy red on a pale, naked doctor. Degradation was one thing, but praise? Praise was another entirely. He relished the safe feeling of being nestled between your two warm bodies as he came down from the adrenaline, but being told he was good triggered a squirmy, hot feeling in his stomach.

He was relieved when Bryan moved on and asked, “How do you feel? Anything hurt?”

Business. Professional. Checking on him physically, he could handle. Chilton shook his head and murmured something meant to be more intelligible than what came out, but managed to convey that he was fine—fucked brainless and boneless, but fine.

Bryan didn’t stay long. 

That was the deal. While you were playing at Chilton being a toy for the two of you to use, in reality, Bryan was the one you brought in to have fun with. He had no intention of overstaying his welcome. After a quick shower, his clothes were back on—a sharp navy suit hiding any hint of the unprofessional purpose for which he had visited your hotel room—and he was making a quick goodbye.

“You’re sure you don’t want to stay? There’s plenty of room.”

Bryan’s pink lips curved up slightly, the corners lost in his neatly trimmed beard. “Nah, I have a deposition in the morning. Boring shit, but—” He shrugged.

Chilton had managed to change into a loose-fitting t-shirt, though his eyes were heavy-lidded, and his chatty nature was subdued. His hair was tousled and wet from the shower, making it appear almost black. 

“Good luck tomorrow,” Bryan said to him jovially, with a pat on the shoulder. “This was fun. Next time you’re in Chicago, let’s meet at my place. I have a lot more toys.”

He ran two fingers under your chin with the promise of pleasure to come, stepping into your space. Your nostrils quivered as you involuntarily sniffed him.

Then he turned to Chilton, whose hand was glued to your waist. Bryan narrowed his eyes slightly in consideration, and kissed him on the mouth. Lips colliding with a hungry snarl, their teeth clashed, and his beard battled Chilton’s coat of stubble to see who would leave a burn on the other’s chin. When he pulled back, Chilton’s green eyes gaped unblinking at him like a deer caught in the headlights of a swingers’ cruise.

Bryan smirked, and was gone.

* * *

The VIP hotel suite had a separate bedroom—a sweeping space decorated with modern black and white marble in crisp lines, a king-sized bed dressed in white linens and a fluffy black throw blanket. It opened into a master bathroom with a standing spa tub which you would certainly enjoy later when the soreness set in. For now, you and Frederick stumbled in to the privacy of the room and fell onto the vast bed together.

He let out a long, grateful moan as he stretched out on the clean sheets. It was rare to see him look so comfortable, with towel-dried hair curling into messy ringlets in every direction. Your heart fluttered at this perfectly unwound Chilton. There was the faintest hint of a bruise where Bryan’s fingers had dug in below his jaw, but it would be easy enough to hide with makeup if it wasn’t faded by the next day.

You kissed him gently on the bruise, and then curled an arm over his chest and settled against his side. His thumb found the back of your hand and traced small, wandering circles.

“So… did you like it?”

He nodded speechlessly.

“That’s good. I was worried it went too far.”

“That was the idea,” he replied.

A frown tugged at the affectionate smile your lips wanted to make, wrestled with it for control, and finally overpowered it in its sullen grip. You weren’t good enough on your own, in other words. You weren’t strong enough, not harsh enough to satisfy Dr. Chilton’s masochistic lust to be dominated.

Still, you wouldn’t ruin a lovely night by letting on that it bothered you.

“Yes, it was. And you took it so well,” you purred, savoring the feeling of his chest hair between your splayed fingers as you thoughtfully stroked his chest. “I think you really enjoyed yourself.”

He smiled dreamily, closing his eyes and reliving the memories. Your gentle palm was so warm, lulling him to sleep with its slow, meandering journey. His hand rested over yours, accompanying it like a passenger.

“Did you?” he asked.

Your hand stopped.

One of his deep green eyes cracked open.

“I did,” you said. “I wasn’t sure at first, but Bryan was so easy to work with. So magnetic. It was empowering having him there. Making you our willing slave that I had total control over.” A shiver ran straight to your over-worked sex remembering Chilton on his knees between you. How hard he worked to get you off. The way he looked at you with worship, even as tears burned down his face. No need to mention how it made you feel inadequate.

Frederick was quiet for a time, lost somewhere, too. Then a tiny voice came from his pillow. “Did you… like Bryan’s cock more than mine?”

“What?”

“Am I unsatisfactory by comparison? Do I not make you feel as good?”

“Frederick… this is why I didn’t want to do this.” Apparently Bryan made everyone feel inadequate.

“Oh.” His chin bobbed with a stiff inhale, and he looked away as if that was your answer.

“That stuff about him fucking me better… Those were just mean things we said to emasculate you—because you wanted us to!”

“It does not make it less true.”

“Well, it’s not,” you retorted stubbornly. “I love you.”

His cheeks flamed again. All of your emphasis on you, as in not Bryan. Not anyone else. The squirming, uncomfortable feeling in his belly returned, and he had to look away before you noticed how emotional he was getting. God. Why was being told he was a dickless fuckdoll so much easier than hearing that he was loved, when he desperately wanted to be loved? Thank god the psychiatric analyses he published were about someone else’s issues.

“We could do this more often,” he said in a light tone to put you at ease, skimming past his rather pathetic outburst of insecurity. “I liked him, too.”

“That is a monster cock he’s packing. I’m going to need a week to recover!” you laughed.

“As will I.”

“Oh! Should I bring you a cold pack? Or the vitamin E oil?”

“Worry about it tomorrow?” He held your wrist to prevent you from springing into action-mode. “I just want you to hold me.”

You lay back on the impressive modern bedspread and enjoyed the feeling of closeness. Frederick’s hand on your back, the quiet rhythm of his breath. You thought about sinking into a bath tomorrow, letting it ease your muscles and tender entrance. Frederick would want to wash his hair again before the Chicago Psychiatric Convention tomorrow to make sure all of the cum was gone, and to fix the results of letting it dry naturally. You anticipated waking up next to the cutest little cowlick. Maybe sending him off with a blowjob if there was time. 

But a dark thought kept nipping at the soft corners of the moment, tugging it out of focus with sharp needle teeth. Replaying the titillating scene from earlier, the pest only grew, preventing you from enjoying what should have been an arousing memory. The longer you ignored it, the harder it bit. 

Finally, you sighed, “Did you like him more than me?”

Startled, Frederick raised a brow and laughed. “He was quite impressive.”

When your face failed to show any sign of mirth, he realized you might have needed as much reassurance as he did. (Though he could not account for why. You were perfect.) He dropped his teasing, narrow-eyed, carefully-considering-it look.

“But I am rather fond of you.”

His lips met yours softly, with just the faintest brush of thin skin, melding slowly as you let out a contented noise that vibrated against him. Your fingers brushed through his messy hair, soothing over the scalp where you’d yanked before. The contrast made his skin tingle with goosebumps.

“Nothing could ever replace you,” he whispered reverently against your lips. “Nothing.”

A soft sob you hadn’t realized was threatening to break free broke, and you quelled it with another kiss, deeper this time. Not urgent, but needy, your tongue delving into his mouth, capturing the lingering taste of Bryan Kneef. Two gorgeous men to fuck. How did you get so lucky? You felt even luckier knowing that whatever happened with Bryan, you and Frederick had each other. 

Always.

“So,” you spoke in a low voice as your lips parted, “are you nice and relaxed for your panel tomorrow?”

“Am I ready to stand up in front of a room filled with hundreds of bitter academic rivals and defend my results, while they all wait to pick them apart, hoping to humiliate me with a question I had not accounted for? Is that what you mean?”

“...Yes?”

“My nerves are much calmer now.” He melted into the pillow with a sated smile. “Thank you.”

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

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[yaimlight]

Rating: mature

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader / Todoroki Shoto x fem!reader (set per relationship)

A/N: part of the Twos Company, Threes A Crowd series but can be read on own. Series masterlist can be found here. This is by far probably one of my favourites. I loved every minute of this and it was so much fun to work on. Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

next>>

Katsuki’s footsteps echoed around the quite halls as he slowly made his way to class. He was early. A hell of a lot earlier than he would normally be but the idiots he called friends had been extra annoying this morning and he had needed to get away from them before he blew something up. So here he was trudging his way through the empty hallways to go crash at his desk. He would have a good solid fifteen to twenty minutes before anyone else turned up so he would be able to get some studying in before anyone disturbed him.

Coming to a stop in front of the class room Katsuki grabbed the handle and yanked the door open, the thing rattling as it slid open. Inside two sets of eyes looked back at him blankly and Katsuki blanched. Aizawa was slumped back in his chair, half in his sleeping bag and his tired eyes focused on Katsuki with a sharp intensity. On his desk sat Y/N, her hands curled around the edge and legs swinging as she leant forward. Her skirt had ridden up slightly and Katsuki could see the top of her thigh, the unblemished skin standing out against the dark wood.

Katsuki snapped his eyes up from where he had been staring at her legs and back up to her face. She was smirking at him knowingly and he could feel the slight blush forming on his cheeks. Scoffing Katsuki stepped into the room, slamming the door closed behind him and made his way over to his desk, refusing to acknowledge the other two people.

He could feel their eyes on him as he dumped his bag onto his desk and dropped into his seat. He could hear her whisper something to the teacher, the low murmur of her voice grating on his nerves. This was weird. Y/N had never shown anything but contempt toward the older man and he the same to her so for them to be talking like that was odd, suspicion even and it made Katsuki feel uncomfortable, like he had walked in on something private that he wasn’t supposed to know about.

Angrily he yanked out his English text book with every intention of studying for the exam tomorrow but he couldn’t tune her out, his ears twitching as his listened to her push off their teachers desk, her booted footsteps heavy as she slowly walked up to her desk. “Morning blasty” she said cheerfully and Katsuki caught a glimpse of her hips swaying as she walked past him. Growling he refused to answer, his grip tightening on his book.

Three week, that’s all it been since the start of the school yeah and she had turned up and she had been grating on his nerves ever since. She had barley interacted with the class, choosing to ignore them and make herself scarce during free time. Some of the stupid extras had tried to befriend her to start with but she had shut them down without a second thought and they had quickly given up.

That would have been fine by him, if he could get half his stupid classmates to leave him alone he would but for some reason that Katsuki couldn’t figure out she had taken an interest in him and they often found themselves alone at the oddest times. He would say it had something to do with her quirk but no one knew what it was. None of them had seen her use it as she never turned up for practical lessons and Aizawa had refused to tell them, telling them to work it out themselves.

At the front of the class Aizawa slid down onto the floor and zipped up the rest of his sleeping bag, falling asleep quickly and leaving the two of them to their own devices. This was fine, he didn’t have to interact with her, could just ignore her like he did every other day. Turning his attention back to his book Katsuki started to read through the last chapter, his mind filling with his schoolwork and drowning everything else out. It worked for a while, the silence welcomed but she shattered it quickly.

Katsuki gritted his teeth as she began to hum, tapping along on her desk to whatever that god awful tune was. He tried to ignore it, grinding his teeth and hunching his shoulders, his grip tightening on his book to the point that he was close to ripping it in two. “Will you shut up” he growled, slamming his book down and spinning in his chair to glare at her. She was leaning on her hand, elbow resting on her desk and staring out of the window. Slowly she turned to face him, smiling widely at him as she folded her arms on top of the desk. He could see her booted feet sticking out form the side, the metal gleaming in the light.

“Aww is little old me distracting the big bad blondie” she tipped her head to the side and pouted, her voice teasing and childlike. He hated it. “Your annoying the hell out of me you little shit so shut the fuck up before I make you” he hissed, snarling at her. He probably shouldn’t be swearing so much, Aizawa likely to reprimand him for it latter but he didn’t care at this moment, too annoyed with the infuriating girl.

Her eyes seemed to flash with excitement, a wide and dangerous smirk splitting across her face. “I’ll hold you to that” she said evenly, her voices holding a dark promise to it. Katsuki swallowed, stuck in Y/Ns intense gaze. He felt like he had just been threatened somehow, like he should be worried for his life and it left him with a feeling of dread deep in his stomach. “Bakubro!”

Katsuki blinked. Y/N was looking out the window again, head resting on her hand and elbows on the table, a bored expression on her face. “There you are man. Can’t believe you ran off like that” Kirishima said happily coming over to Katsuki’s desk and slinging his arm around the blondes shoulder. Normally he would shrug the other boy of and yell at him but Katsuki was stuck, still staring at Y/N in disbelief. Had that just happened or had he imagined the whole thing?

Kirishima moved, leaning forward and blocking Katsuki’s view. “Hey, you okay bro?” He sounded concerned, frowning down at the blonde and his hold tightening on his shoulder. Katsuki jerked back, yanking his shoulder out of the other teens hold and smacked his arm away. “Of course I am shitty hair, why the hell wouldn’t I be?” Katsuki yelled angrily, glaring at the redhead. Bloody idiot, why wouldn’t Katsuki be okay? He was the god dam best in this shitty school and he did not get scared of anything, especially not of mouthy little shits who thought they were so god dammed special because her daddy was some rich fuck.

Kirishima stepped back, laughing as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “That’s cool dude, just wanted to check as you ran off so early”. Katsuki growled, turning back around in his chair and shoved his book back into his bag. The rest of the class had started to file in now, all of them loud and energetic. It didn’t take long for Kaminari, Sero and Ashido to come bouncing over to join Kirishima, the four of them crowding around Katsuki’s desk and chatting loudly about something he really couldn’t care less about. What did they even have to talk about? They literally spent nearly every waking moment together so how did they still have shit to talk about.

Shifting in his seat Katsuki chanced a glance back at Y/N. She was still staring out the window, no one having approached her but why would they? She was even less approachable than him. Sensing his eyes on her, her own flicked up instantly finding his. The sun was streaming in through the window, bathing her in a bright light that gave her an almost other worldly glow. Katsuki was suddenly struck by how beautiful she looked in that moment. She looked sad, lonely even as the rest of the class bustled around and she just keep staring out the window as if she was longing for something beyond the world around them. Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder what it was that had made her so distant and what he could do to make her smile a real genuine smile, just once. He bet she would look even more stunning than she did now.

As if she knew what he was think she broke out into a wide smirk, her eyes seeming to sparkle with knowing. Scowling at her he turned back round, sinking into his seat. Beautiful? Ha, as if. She was nothing to him, just an insignificant background character on his journey to greatness. He didn’t need anything from her, didn’t want anything either and that included a stupid smile. He was Bakugou Katsuki, future number one hero and no one was getting in his way.

“Everyone settle down” Aizawa’s sleep rough voice called from the front of the room and everyone scrambled to their seats. Sighing Katsuki slumped forward, resting his chin on his hand. Aizawa droned on about some hero fight from a few years ago that he wanted them to analyse, asking the class to try and figure out what the villains quirk was. It reminded him of what the class had been trying and failing to do with Y/N throughout the weeks, each one of them chiming in with ideas from teleportation to some form of camouflage but with nothing to go on no one could say for sure. Not that Katsuki cared, because he didn’t. He couldn’t care less about her or whatever useless quirk she had.

That didn’t stop him from stealing glimpses of her whenever he could throughout the morning, only half paying attention to his classes. Every time he looked she was always bent over her text book or papers, doing the work asked of her for once. He didn’t think he had actually ever seen her doing the work before let alone paying attention to the class. It was odd and confusing and Katsuki didn’t like it. He had been so sure about the kind of person she was, especially after that first night but this was out of character and it made him feel like the rug had been yanked out from under him.

When lunch rolled around Ashido attached herself to his arm, dragging him along behind her to the cafeteria and even though he complained the whole time he went willingly. As he was dragged from the room he took one more look at the girl. She had lent forward over her desk, head resting on her folded arms and turned towards the window. He wasn’t the only one watching her though, the half ‘n’ half bastard staring at her with a little frown as Deku jabbered away next to him. Katsuki didn’t like it and he didn’t know why.

Lunch past quickly, Katsuki ignoring his friends in favour of trying to work out what his problem was and stealing glances at the shitty candy cane. He hadn’t seen Todoroki interact with the other girl, not once but then again no one had seen him the five or six times he had spoken to her either so that didn’t mean jack. The thought of them two stumbling across one another in empty hallways and abandoned classrooms, of her pressing against the bastard as she teased and taunted him just like she did with Katsuki had him grinding his teeth and glaring, a heaviness settling in his stomach that he couldn’t begin understand.

“Man I am so pumped for this” Kirishima called happily, punching the air with his fist and smiling like an idiot. “Me to bro. I can not wait to try my new attack out on you” Kaminari jumped up onto the bench in a mock defensive pose, kicking his leg out as if he was about to attack. Groaning Katsuki yanked his own locker open, shoving his school bag and blazer inside. The changing room was buzzing with excitement as they stripped out of their school clothes and tugged on their hero costumes. It was the first time since they had started the new year that Aizawa was letting them actually practice against one another, the last few weeks full of running drills that had been as boring as hell and they were all ready for an actual chance to let lose.

“Get down from there this instant” Glasses voice echoed around the room, dunce face whining as he jumped down and went back to changing into his clothes. Katsuki was smirking, the excitement for what was to coming already getting his blood pumping. Over break he had meet up with shitty hair and the rest of his friends a few times to spar, even Deku once or twice but none of them had really been able to let go of their quirks completely and he was looking forward to really letting go.

“Hay Bakugou! You ready to get your arse kicked?” Katsuki gritted his teeth, snarling as he turned to face Kaminari. “The hell I am loser. I’m going to kick all your arses” he yelled, fists clenched at his side. Like he would lose to anyone. Laughing Kirishima slapped him on the back and Katsuki rolled his shoulder aggressively, grumbling for the other teen to get the hell off of him.

“I wonder if any of the girls have leaned any new moves were their clothes fly off”. Sero smacked the shitty little pervert round the back of the head, knocking the bubble head idiot into his locker. “Stop being such a pervert” Sero glared down at Mineta as he rubbed at his forehead. Deserved the little shit right. If he carried on the way he was Katsuki gave him a month tops once they graduated before he got arrested for sexual harassment.

Wordlessly Katsuki began to tug off his clothes, listening to the idiots behind him ramble on about new moves they had been trying to develop and the ones they knew the girls had been working on. How stupid could these people get? Telling the others their new tactics when they should be keeping it to themselves and using it to surprise their opponents and beat them into dust.

Katsuki tuned them out as the conversation turned into discussing how much hotter the girls had gotten over the break. Instead Katsuki focused on getting changed as quickly as he could so he could get out there already. He had been keyed up all day and he was looking for a reason to get rid of some of his built up frustrations. He could already feel the sweat starting to coat his palms, his skin itching with the need to just let his quirk burst free from his palms. He longed for the familiar crack and boom of the explosions that would spark to life in his hands.

He was halfway through tugging on his trousers when he stilled, his attention snapping back to the rest of the room when he heard her name. “Sure she’s pretty but her attitude kind of tanks that”. Katsuki gritted his teeth, trying not to draw attention to himself as Sato spoke. He hatted he was so interested in what they were say, hanging on with baited breath in case they said something he didn’t already know.

“Maybe that’s her thing, being all distant and mysterious to get us all talking about her. You know being a bit of a bitch to hide a soft gooey centre” Sero said thoughtfully. Katsuki turned as he yanked on his tank top on, glaring at his idiot of a friend. As far as he knew he was the only one in the class who had held any sort of conversation with Y/N since her first day when she had told Deku in no uncertain terms where they could all shove their offer of friendship and he could say that underneath the cold and distance bitchiness was as teasing, infuriating, annoying bitch who seemed to know how to get under Katsuki’s skin and inside his head.

“That’s not an actual thing. Is it?” Kaminari asked, tipping his head to the side and brows drawn in confusion. “I mean it’s what Bakugou dose”. Katsuki did actually growl at that turning his attention to Kirishima. “The hell you saying about me shitty hair” he yelled taking a step forward and pointing an accusing finger at the other teen who just laughed it off.

“I guess we will never know unless one of us actually manages to talk to her”. Sato shrugged as he spoke, turning back to his own locker to get ready for class. Letting out a huff Katsuki turned back to his own locker, pulling out his boots. He thought that would be the end of the conversation, hoped it would anyway. He didn’t want to hear about her anymore, the mere though of the girl irritating him but it seemed the grape haired pervert had other ideas.

“Todoroki’s spoke to her”. The room fell quite, all eyes turning to look at the for mentioned teen. He had frozen, hands halfway through pulling up his zipper. His back was to most of the class but from where Katsuki stood he could see the shock and worry flash across his face.

“What! When?” Kaminari exclaimed loudly, his jacket falling to the floor as he looked franticly between the candy cane and grape boy. Katsuki would like to know that to, would beat it out of the other boy if he didn’t tell him. Mineta smirked, loving the fact that he knew something no one else did. “It’s true. I saw them the other night in the hallway and they looked pretty cosy if you know what I mean”.

Katsuki was going to kill that half ‘n’ half bastard. What the hell right did he have to be sneaking around at night get cosy with his…with his…Shit why the hell was this bothering Katsuki so much? He had no right to Y/N, didn’t want jack shit to do with her in the first place. Let the bastard have her, they would be perfect together with his stoic attitude and her cold indifference. Fists clenching and snarling Katsuki dropped down onto the bench and yanked his boots on. He didn’t care, not one bit so why the hell was he getting so angry?

“Dude you’ve been holding out on us. Come on spill”. Katsuki didn’t look up as Kaminari spoke, glaring at his boots as he laced them up. He didn’t want to be here to hear this shit. “I would hardly call it a conversation, we barley exchanged words” Todoroki said in his normal bland, monotone voice and Katsuki did look up at this, narrowing his eyes at the other boy. Katsuki was calling bullshit and he didn’t understand why half ‘n’ half would lie about it.

“Do you normally let people push their chest against yours and whisper in your ear to exchange a few words” Mineta’s voice droned on and every one stopped once again. Todoroki was blushing, mix matched eyes wide and looking like a deer caught in headlights. Katsuki’s hands began to smoke, black wisps off it escaping between his fingers.

He knew what that felt like, knew the feeling of her hands curling over his shoulders as she stepped into his space, her breasts pushing against his chest as she whispered a teasing comment in his ear, her warm breath sending shivers down his spine. Katsuki clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as he forced his quirk back down. Anger, envy and resentment crashed into Katsuki, churning round in his stomach and making him feel sick.

“Dude are you banging the new chick?” Kaminari shouted in disbelief and Katsuki saw red. “I don’t think that’s really any of our business” Deku stuttered out, coming to defend the half ‘n’ half bastard who looked like he was about to pass out, all the colour draining from his stupidly angular face.

Growling Katsuki stood back up, shoving his gauntlets on as he did. He slammed his locker shut, the whole thing rattling with the force. “Who gives a shit if he’s getting his dick wet. Just hurry the fuck up and get your arses out there so I can beat them”. Katsuki snarled as he stormed over to the exit that lead onto the training field. His shoulder slamming into the shitty candy cane on the way past, the other teen letting out a grunt of pain.

Katsuki could hear the others still talking behind him, their annoying voices trailing after him. “No fair man, pretty boys like you need to leave us some girls”. “How rude”. “Someone’s extra grumpy today”. “Are you okay Todoroki-kun”. Clenching his jaw Katsuki tried to shove everything down. He didn’t need these shitty feelings. He didn’t have time for them, not if he was going to become the number one hero. What he was going to do was spend the next couple of hours beating his classmates into the dust and Y/N would be nowhere in sight to get under his skin and leave him itchy and wound tight.

He squinted as he stepped out into the sun, turning his head to try and actually see something. The girls were already out, huddled together and whispering amounts themselves. Frowning Katsuki dragged his eyes over them, clocking the nervous looks on some of their faces. That was odd, he hadn’t seen them all that worried in a while and he couldn’t think what would have them so on edge. It didn’t take long to find out though. As he got closer the sun was blocked by the high walls of the stadium they were in. Aizawa stood just a little way off of the group of girls, a clipboard in hand and looking as bored as always as he spoke to Y/N who stood next to him.

Katsuki came to slow stop next the huddle of girls, confused as to what was going on because she wasn’t supposed to be here. Y/N had on the navy and white U.A training outfit, her chunky black boots replaced by black trainers. Her face was turned up towards Aizawa, a serious look about her as she nodded along to whatever their teacher was saying. Why was she hear? She hadn’t come to a single one of these classes since she got here, not once so why the hell was she here now when all Katsuki wanted was her to be as far away from him as possible.

He could hear the rest of the guys approaching, their loud chattering dying down as they came to a stop behind him, finally noticing the girl who had been absent for the past three weeks. “You’re finally all here” Aizawa drawled, his tired eyes dragging across the huddle of students in front of him. “This week we will be looking at how to fight opponent who are completely unknown to you. It has been brought to my attention that after three weeks none of you have managed to work out what Y/Ns quirk is so she has kindly agreed to help with this week’s task”. Katsuki knew he should be thinking about strategies and technics but his mind was stuck. He was finally going to find out what her quirk was.

“You will each face Y/N one at a time with the goal of getting your opponent over the out of bounds lines. If you can work out what her quirk is you will receive top marks for today’s class, if you don’t you will have to run laps after class in full gear” Aizawa had to yell the last bit, the classes chatter getting louder with every second but Katsuki’s eyes were stuck on Y/N as she wordlessly walked out into the middle of the field. Once their she began to stretch, twisting and turning her body a she got ready for the fight coming her way.

It seemed a little unfair, all twenty of them against just her. Sure it was one at a time but it would be gruelling and there was no way she would be able to make it through all of them. That was unless she had some sort of endurance quirk that meant she could out last them all. There had to be something about her and her quirk for Aizawa to think she could stand up to them all but what? What was it that made the older man so sure she could handle that sort of exertion?

“Your names have all been picked out at random to determine in what order you will go. Mineta you will be first, the rest of you take a seat and wait your turn”. The grape haired pervert let out a surprised yelp, practically trembling in his little yellow boots. Grunting Katsuki turned, heading towards the benches that had been lined up a safe distance from the battle arena. The battle area that had been marked out wasn’t that big, probably a little smaller than the one they used for the sports festivals and they were seated close enough to that you could still hear what was being said out on the pitch.

Grunting Katsuki dropped down into the middle of one of the benches, legs splayed wide, his elbows resting on his thighs and heavy gauntlets hanging between them. He didn’t pay much attention to the others but he knew that Sero and Ashido sat on one side of him whilst Kirishima and Kaminari sat on the other side, the four of them talking excitedly over him as they tried to work out what Y/Ns quirk could possibly be. Katsuki just sat there though, watching Mineta as he hesitantly stepped into the starting circle in the middle of the pitch, eyes nervously darting around. “When you’re ready” Aizawa called and the whole class shut up, their attention snapping to the two people in the middle of the field. Katsuki held his breath, waiting to see what she did.

“Hey Mineta-kun” Y/N said all bright and cheerful, smiling down at the grape fucker like they spoke all the time. The pervert stuttered and stumbled over his words and for once looking everywhere but at the girl in front of him. She laughed nervously, rubbing at the back of her neck as a soft pink blush spread across her cheeks. “This is really embarrassing but it’s a lot hotter out here than I thought would you mind if I got rid of this before we started?” She tugged at her jacket as she spoke, looking down at Mineta with a bashful smile. She looked sweet and innocent and Katsuki knew that was utter trash. She was up to something.

Mineta’s attention snapped back to Y/N, a dopy smile on his face as he shook his head. “No that’s fine” he said excitedly, his eyes zeroing in on her chest. She mumbled a quick thanks before her hands went to the zipper. Time seemed to slow as she dragged down the zipper, still smiling sweetly as inch after inch of delicate skin was exposed. Katsuki was transfixed, watching the roll of her shoulders as she tugged the jacket down her arms and exposing the black sports bra she had on underneath. Mineta was practically drawling, eyes fixed on her breasts and Katsuki couldn’t blame him, his own eyes dragging along the outline through the workout top.

Laughing she leant forward, curling one hand over the small teens shoulder, her chest at eye level. Katsuki would swear that he pervert passed out the way his eyes rolled back but he stayed stood, supporting Y/N as she started to tug down her trousers. Someone made a chocked of squeak and Katsuki would put money on it being glasses, his delicate sensibilities being damaged by the amount of skin that was being exposed as the trousers slid over her pert arse and down unblemished thighs. She tugged them over her shoes and throw them behind her to join her abandoned top.

“Holy shit” whispered Kaminari the same time Ashido let out a low whistle. Y/N was stood in nothing but a black sports bra and matching shorts that cling to every curve and ended midway down her thigh. There was so much skin on display, more than was normally on offer when she was in her uniform and Katsuki hungrily drank it all on. Mineta seemed to have forgotten what was supposed to be happening, his hands making little grabby motions towards her and mumbling so much it would but Deku to shame but Y/N hadn’t forgotten.

She tipped her head to the side slightly, her smile twisting and eyes narrowing. Her grip tightened in the collar of his costume then in one quick move she spun round, bringing her leg up and kicking him hard in the stomach. Mineta screamed as he flew through the air, arms flailing as he crashed to the ground face first and outside of the boundary lines. Katsuki started down at the pervert dumbly for a second before dragging his eyes back to the middle of the pitch. She was stood back up, head tipped back and facing the sky but her eyes were fixed on them, a dangerous smirk on her lips. “Oh shit” Kaminari whispered, sounding equal parts amazed and scared.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at her, snarling slightly. She hadn’t used a quirk, not that he could see anyway, just pure strength. Unless that was her quirk but Katsuki refuses to believe it was that easy. No this was supposed to be hard, a challenge or otherwise Aizawa wouldn’t have set it. She wouldn’t make it that easy to spot what she was doing, trying to mask her quirk by relying on other skills but that wouldn’t be possible for long, not against people like him on half ‘n’ half, and hell half the class had quirks that could beat her down from a distance. Katsuki was excited, skin humming for his chance to get in there with her, to finally be able to wipe that smug smile of her face.

“Hagakure you’re next” Aizawa called and the girl let out a surprised squeak. Katsuki leaned forward, watching the gloves and shoes make their way onto the field. Y/N would have to use her quirk for this fight surly. The invisible girl may not be the best fighter in the class but she had the element of surprise on her side. If it was Katsuki he would let of explosion after explosion, driving the girl back until she had no choice but to step out of the ring.

“Hagakure-kun” Y/N said politely, tipping her head towards the other girl who rushed out a quick hello, a glove moving quickly through the air as she waved. Y/N smiled softly, her eyes slowly dragging from the gloves down to the shoes. “You ready?” Y/N asked seriously, rolling her shoulders and taking a defensive stance. “Sure am” Hagakure said cheerfully as she stripped off her gloves and shoes, throwing them off to the side. It was a good idea, making it almost impossible for Y/N to see where she would be attacking from.

Katsuki tried to follow Hagakure’s movements but from his spot he couldn’t see her footprints. Y/N sighed, relaxing her stance and closed her eyes. “What’s she doing?” Raccoon eyes whispered, leaning into Katsuki. “The hell if I know” he grumbled, scowling at the girl stood motionless in the middle of the field. “Maybe it’s to do with her quirk?” Discount Pikachu might have a point. Maybe it was some sort of enhance hearing, maybe sonar or something like that. It would explain why she was just stood there, leaving herself wide open for an attack.

Suddenly her eyes snapped open, her hand flying out and fingers seeming to curl around nothing. “Ahhh” Hagakure cried out as Y/N jerked her arm forward, stepping to the side and bringing her leg up to deliver a hard kick to what Katsuki assumed was the invisible girls back. A plume of dust rose up from where she staggered forward and for a moment the bottom of Hagakure’s legs were visible as the dust settled. Y/N smirked, kicking at the ground and sending up another dust cloud towards the girl.

What followed was five minutes of what looked like a one person fight as Y/N danced around the arena, ducking and weaving and avoiding every single one of Hagakure’s attacks. Katsuki was transfixed, watching Y/N dance around the other girl’s attacks. Her technique was flawless, a clear level of skill in hand to hand combat that outclassed half the class. She was precise with her movements, anticipating the other girl’s moves and getting hit in after hit, sending the other girl crashing to the dirt time and time again until she was covers in a thin layer of dust and her out line was visible.

Y/N dropped down, kicking her leg out and sweeping Hagakure’s legs out from under her and sent her tumbling face first onto the floor and even Katsuki winced at the sound of her knees smacking onto the floor. Y/N strode forward purposely and grabbed a fistful of the other girl’s hair. Hagakure cried out, her dirt covered hands going up to curl around Y/Ns wrist. She scrambled across the ground, trying not to fall as Y/N dragged her across the pitch and shoved her across the boundary lines.

Everyone was staring at the heap that was Hagakure, her knees bloody and breathing heavily. Wordlessly Y/N turned back and walked back to the middle of the pitch, grabbing the other girl’s gloves and shoes. By the time she got back Hagakure hadn’t moved and no one had gone to help her, everyone still just staring at her. That had been brutal, unnecessarily so but Katsuki assumed that had been the point. Mineta had been a tease and Hagakure had been a warning to all those who were yet to come. Katsuki clenched his fists, already thinking up strategy’s and counter attacks, ways to beat the girl down but he still had no clue what her quirk was and that would be a disadvantage. He would just have to not give her an opening, blast her out of the arena before she got a chance to attack.

Sighing Y/N sank to her knees, gently lifting Hagakure’s leg into her lap. She brushed some of the dust off the other girl’s foot before slipping her trainer back on. Y/N was being so gentle with Hagakure, a complete contrast to the brutal beating she just given the other girl. Katsuki scrunched up his face. What was she doing wasting time like this? The stupid girl could get her own damned self dressed. Katsuki was itching for a chance to fight Y/N and this was just waiting his time.

“You did really well out their Hagakure -kun. Your technique is impressive though I would suggest working on your defence but I would be glad to help you with that if you liked” Y/N said softly, smiling gently up at the other girl as she pulled on her other shoe and laced it up. Katsuki started at her in disbelief. What the hell was going on here? Y/N had spent three weeks avoiding everyone and refusing Katsuki every time he tried get her to spar with him yet here she was, suddenly talking to these extras like she cared about them and offering out her time. What the hell made Hagakure so special that Y/N was willing to train with her and not him?

“I, yeah. That would be great” Y/N smiles warmly at Hagakure’s whispered reply and pushed herself back up onto her feet. Y/N held out her hand for the other girl to take and helped pull her to her feet. “Enhanced hearing” Hagakure rushes out, Y/Ns eyes widen slightly in surprise. Katsuki held his breath, the rest of the class seeming to do the same. Huffing out a small laugh, Y/N turned to look up at Aizawa who had come over to stand next to them. Everyone turned their attention to the teacher, sitting up straighter and waiting to see what he would say. “Good effort though we will need to work on your tactics. Go get your knees sorted and then I want you back here for your laps”. Everyone groaned and Katsuki slumped back in his seat. There went that idea.

“Better luck next time” Y/N called over her shoulder as she went back to the middle of the pitch, smiling widely and waving at them. Katsuki was once again struck by how beautiful she was, the sunlight streaming down on her, knees covered in dirt and cheeks slightly flushed. He wondered if she would still look as beautiful after he had beaten her. “Aoyama, go”. Katsuki groaned annoyed that he was still being made to wait for his chance to knock the smug little shit off her pedestal.

What followed was over an hour of Y/N completely destroying the class. She was polite to all of them, making sure that they were ready and on occasion exchanging a few words about their level of skill but each fight always ended the same. Katsuki tried to keep track of everything so was doing but Y/N adapted and changed her fighting style depending on who she was facing. Aoyama had been easy for her to defeat, taking no more than five minutes but others like glasses and ponytail were harder, taking longer for her to force over the pitch boundary lines but in the end she did, offering each person some form of constructive criticism whilst gushing about their skills.

Each one tried to guess what quirk she had been using, throwing out suggestions like super strength, foresight, teleportation and even mind control but Aizawa shot them all down, Y/N laughing off anyone’s attempts to find out how she had beat them. Katsuki had listened to every suggestion, scoffing at some of the more idiotic ideas but seriously considering others but every time they turned out to be wrong he grew more and more frustrated to the point he was almost convinced that she didn’t even have a quirk and this was just sort of sick joke Aizawa was pulling on them.

Groaning Katsuki narrowed his eyes, watching as she effortlessly dodged Kaminari’s new attack, already starting to move out the way before he had even finished swinging his arm down. “She’s been watching us” Katsuki growled as realisation finally dawned on him. “What do you mean watching us?” Ashido said, sounding a little worried. Katsuki didn’t take his eyes off the pairs as Y/N counters Kaminari’s attack and forced him back towards the boundary lines. “Dunce face has only practiced that attack once since we have been back and that was last week during our endurance training but she knew exactly what was coming and how to avoid it. She wouldn’t know how to do that unless she had been watching us practice”. Katsuki growled the last words, angry that he hadn’t realised it sooner.

Of course she would be observing them, she seemed like the creepy type to lurk in the shadows and watch their practices like a god damned stalker. That meant she had yet another advantage over them, knew more about how they fought whilst they only knew what they had seen today. He had half formed assumptions about her style that she kept knocking down and preventing him from coming up with a solid plan and it was beginning to piss him off.

Y/N slammed her elbow into Kaminari’s chest casing him to stumble back, falling over his feet and crashing to the ground, outside of the boundary lines. “Ow” he whined, rubbing at his chest. Y/N helped pull him up, complimenting his moves and gushing about his quirk, the idiot smiling bashfully. Grunting Katsuki turned away, losing interest in their conversation. Kaminari marked number seventeen leaving just Katsuki, Deku and the half ‘n’ half bastard left and Katsuki was beginning to suspect there hadn’t been anything random about the order they had gone in because what were the chances that the top three in the class would be left till last.

At the moment his best strategy was to just go at her, delivering hit after hit in quick succession and not giving her a chance to counter or dodge, making sure to keep her as far away from him as possible. “Man that sucked” Kaminari whined as he dropped back down into his space, leaning into Kirishima who wrapped an arm around him. “At least you’re lasted longer than Sero did” Ashido leant round Katsuki to pat the other boy on the leg whilst soy sauce let out an indigent ‘hey’. Ashido whipped back round, folding her arms across her chest and levelling the other boy with a hard look. “Well it’s true”. Sero huffed mouth opening to protest but Katsuki cut him off, turning to glare at him. “What idiot gets stuck in their own tape” he barked. Sero frowned, slumping back into his seat. “I told you I don’t know how it happened” he grumbled, clearly sulking. “That just makes it worse dumb arse” Katsuki yelled, only just resisting the urge to smack the other teen round the head. They were in their final year, so close to stepping out into the world as fully fledged heroes and the idiot was still making mistakes that a preschool would do, he was lucky Y/N had just rolled him out of the pitch and not kicked him all the way there like Katsuki would have.

“Alright” Aizawa calls and Katsuki turns to look at the teacher, holding his breath in anticipation. “Todoroki you’re up”. Katsuki groaned, slumping back and tipping his head back to look up at the sky. God damned half ‘n’ half. Why did he get to go first? He probably knew what her quirk was anyway, considering how they had been all over each other, probably had even been sparing together in secret. Katsuki knew that he was probably blowing this all out of proportion, he only had what the perverted little grape had said and Katsuki had been in similar situations with Y/N himself over the last few weeks but he was angry that she had been sneaking around with the shitty candy cane at the same time.

Groaning Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut. No he wasn’t angry she was sneaking around with the other teen, he was angry that she thought she could go around playing games with him, trying to rile him up and get under his skin. Well he wasn’t going to let her. He would go out there a beat her into dust. As much as Katsuki hated to admit it half ‘n’ half was a good fighter, a good opponent and one of the closest to Katsuki’s level. Katsuki would be able to learn a lot from their fight and use it to his advantage. He hoped she kicked his area though, it would be good to see the pompous prat get knocked down a peg or two.

“Well hello handsome”. Katsuki’s head jerked back down as Y/N practically purred her greeting. Distantly he heard Mineta yell ‘I told you so’ but Katsuki was too focused on the other two. Todoroki was scowling at her as he took up his fighting stance, not answering Y/N. She smirked widely, eyes gleaming with what Katsuki thought was excitement and took up her own starting position. “Show me what you’ve got hot stuff”. She winked at half ‘n’ half and the teen actually sneered at her.

He lunged forward, throwing an arm up and sending a sheet of ice barrelling towards Y/N but for once he wasn’t quick enough, the girl dodging just in the nick of time. “You’re going to have to do better than that” she teased, grinning like a mad man. Half ‘n’ half growled at her before launching another attack.

Their fight was fast paced and full on, Todoroki sending up walls of ice and flames. Katsuki was having a hard time following the action, all the ice and Y/Ns quick movements proving difficult to focus on. It was annoying, preventing him from getting a good idea of what her quirk was though Katsuki was sure that she was getting faster, dodging the other teen’s attacks with relative ease. Something that was clearly annoying the candy cane.

She managed to dodge yet another attack, missing both a sheet of ice and wall of flames and finally getting in close to the boy but just as she was about to reach out for him Todoroki threw out his arm. She knocked it out of her way and a sheet of ice shoot up in front of the watching class, blocking them from view. “Fuck” Katsuki cursed, glaring at the thick ice. He couldn’t see anything, not even an outline.

“Hey! Ear Cord” he yelled, leaning around his friends to get the girls attention. She rolled her eyes at him, huffing out an annoyed sight. “It’s Earphone Jack” she grumbled but Katsuki ignored her. He knew what her hero name was, he didn’t need the reminder. “Make yourself useful and tell me what they’re saying” he demanded. She narrowed her eyes at him, looking like she was going to tell him no but the whole class was looking expectantly at her, round face nodding enthusiastically. With a groan she sent here ear cords into the ground and everyone fell silent.

For what seemed like the longest minutes there was nothing. No sound from the other side of the ice, no sound from the waiting class, just Jiro frowning. “Well” Katsuki growled, getting impatient with the lack of information. “Will you shut up” she hissed and Katsuki growled. How dare she talk to him like that. Getting up from his spot Katsuki took a step towards her. “You wonna go you lit...” Katsuki stopped midway through his threat as Jiro’s eyes widened, her mouth hanging open in shock as she blushed a deep read. Quickly she retracted her cords and sunk back in an attempt to hide herself behind ponytail.

“What?” he barked taking another step forward. She had heard something and Katsuki wanted to know what. She made some sort of wired choked of whine, shaking her head quickly. “It was nothing” she rushed out refusing to meet Katsuki’s eyes. Growling he took another step forward until he was in front of her. “Tell me” he growled, looming over the girl, fists clenched and smoking. “Bakugou-kun I really don’t think...” ponytail started to say, wrapping her arms around the other girl and pulling her into her chest but Katsuki cut her off, not even bothering to look at her. “Shut up. Tell me what you heard” his voice was low and menacing as he spoke and he was on the edge of threatening her to talk. He had to know what was going on, had to know what the bastard was doing so he could make sure he didn’t make the same mistakes. It definitely wasn’t because he didn’t like not being able to see what they were doing, not because he was angry that Y/N had called him handsome.

Jiro sighed, he blush still going strong but she seemed ready to talk. “She asked him if his quirk...” she was cut off by a loud bang as something, or more likely someone collided with the wall of ice, cracks creaking as they spread across the sheet. The whole class jumped, a few of the girls and dunce face gasping but not Katsuki. He turned towards the sheet of ice squinting, the dark out line of something just visible as they moved on the other side.

The thud came again, the ice cracking even more. What the hell were they doing? Katsuki could see them moving but couldn’t tell who was who, just vague shapes merging into one another as they moved around one another. Growling he clenched his fists, tempted to blow up the stupid wall just so he could see. He didn’t like not knowing what Y/N was doing with the other teen, not after finding out that they had been sneaking around together behind his back.

Katsuki jerked back at the thought, his eyes widening in surprise. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was acting like some jealous boyfriend and that was not what they were, not even close to it. She was a brat, a pain in his arse who constantly went out of her way to irritate him. He didn’t like her enough to call her an acquaintance let alone his girlfriend. He needed to get it together, start acting like himself and stop worrying about Y/N and the candy cane. It had nothing to do with him and he didn’t care what they were doing, he would beat her all on his own, they’d see.

There was a loud crash, the ice finally breaking as someone was thrown against it yet again. They came tumbling through, rolling across the dirt and coming to a stop just an arm’s length away from the boundary lines. Katsuki looked down at Y/N as she pushed herself up onto her knees. He had hit her, the shitty candy cane the first out of the glass to get her on the ground and that close to the boundary lines. Not possible, no way. She was supposed to beat this joker into the ground and move on. Katsuki was the only one in this class with the skill and power to defeat her, she was only supposed to bend to his will not the half ‘n’ half bastards.

Y/N rubbed a hand over her bloody lip, red smearing across the back of her hand. She let out a small huff of laughter, turning to face Todoroki with a wide smile. He was stood not far off, jumpsuit ripped in a few places and breathing heavily and sweating, clearly the excessive use of both his quirks starting to take its toll, but Y/N hardly had a flush to her skin, wasn’t even breathing that differently than normal. If it wasn’t for the small cut you probably wouldn’t even know she had been fighting for the last twenty minutes.

Pushing herself back onto her feet she glanced back toward the other students, her eyes almost instantly finding Katsuki’s. He felt her eyes dragging over him like a caress, his skin tingling beneath his clothes. She looked at him through hooded eyes and smirked, her tongue poking out to run across her split lip. He swallowed, eyes transfixed on the action hardly even noticing the wink she aimed at him before spinning on her heels and running full force towards Todoroki.

Wordlessly Katsuki shuffled back, dropping down into his seat. “You okay?” Katsuki grunted in reply to Kirishima, his eyes still focused on the couple out on the field. Even though he was watching he didn’t really see the rest of their fight, his mind stuck on the movement of her tongue and the hungry look in her eyes. He felt hot, hotter than normal and he could feel the faint hum of arousal running through his veins. He wanted to see that look again, preferably from above whilst she lead under him. He bet she would look good, even better if she ditched her clothes.

“Holly shit” Kaminari whispered, hand smacking against Katsuki’s chest. “Did you see that?” he said excitedly, practically bouncing in his seat. Blinking a few times to clear his mind, Katsuki slowly looked down at the hand that was gently smacking him in the chest. “Get the hell off me dunce face” Katsuki growled and instantly the other boy was snatching his hand back, laughing nervously. “Sorry man just I can’t believe it ended so suddenly. I really thought Todoroki was going to win”. Katsuki’s head snapped back, eyes wide and searching as Pikachu’s words sunk in.

Half ‘n’ half stood just outside the out of bounds lines, fists clenched and frowning at Y/N who was laughing nervously and very clearly still inside the pitch. When had that happened? How had that happened? How had Katsuki completely missed the entire last part of their match? Y/N lifted her arms above her head, lacing her fingers together and stretched. She moaned loudly, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting slightly. Katsuki’s eyes fell to her naked stomach, watching as her back arched and muscles rippled with the strain. He wondered if that was what she would look like under him, moaning and gasping, arching up for more.

Groaning he slumped forward, hiding his face in his hands. That was why he hadn’t seen how she had gotten the bastard across the boundary line, too absorbed in fantasies that he had no business getting lost in. What was wrong with him? Ever since that first night he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, about her and it was driving him crazy.

Sure over the years he had thought girls were attractive, hell he though half the girls in the class were pretty hot and he was a healthy teenage boy so he was no stranger to the pleasure his own hand could bring but never had he been so fixated on one girl that he was almost constantly thinking about her to the point he was barley focussing in classes. He had a reputation to uphold, and image to protect and he couldn’t afford to be getting distracted by a pretty smile, firm arse and legs that he wanted wrapped around him as he held her up against a wall whilst he grinded against her.

Growling he gripped at his hair, tugging at the strands. He need to stop this. He was too close to finally becoming a pro to throw all his hard work away for some piece of arse, even if the body attached to said arse happened to be smart, funny and skilled. He just needed to get her out of his system and their fight would hopefully go a long way to fixing that. When he undoubtedly beat her she would scurry off to lick her wounds and he would be left alone.

“Bakugou, let’s go” Aizawa called and Katsuki’s head shot up, looking at his teacher with confusion. Looking rather unimpressed the older man jerked his head towards the filled and Katsuki turned to see what he was talking about. Y/N was stood back in the middle of the pitch, looking at him expectantly. Katsuki frowned, when had the shitty candy cane left the field? Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes as she made a come here motion with both her hands. “Well? You coming or what blondie?” she called and Katsuki jerked back to reality.

Growling Katsuki jerked up and stormed across the field, hands clenched and snarling. Vaguely he was aware of Sero saying ‘this is going to be good’ behind him and the others agreeing with him but he was too focused to let their praise really sink in and boost his already sky high confidence.

He came to a stop in front of her, snarling as he got into position. “Finally decided to join me then. Thought you were going to chicken out” she teased. Katsuki growled, fists clenching as he took a threatening step forward. “Ha! Like hell I would. Your perky arse is mine” he yelled, confident in his ability to finally be the one to push her across the boundary lines.

Y/Ns eyes widened slightly, a look of surprise on her face. It was then when Katsuki realised what he had said, his own eyes widening and a slight blush spreading across his cheeks. She smiled widely, eyes gleaming with amusement. Shit he hadn’t meant to say that, couldn’t understand why he had said it. Now she would know he had been staring at her arse, every time she bent over, when she walked in front of him, hell even when she was just stood still.

“If you want it that bad all you have to do was ask” she winked at him, dragging her tongue over her lips then sucking the edge in between her teeth and biting down on it. Shit he didn’t know where to look, what to say. His mind was stuck somewhere between watching her mouth and imagining her pulling the same face as he gripped her arse tightly and she bounced on top of him. Shit, this wasn’t the time for that. He couldn’t get hard now, not in front of her, not with the whole class there anyway.

As if sensing his embarrassment her smirk fell into a gentle smile. “Oh” she exclaimed, bouncing excitedly on her toes. “Thanks for dinner last night” she said happily, head adorably tilting to the side. Katsuki clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing and growled. “Stop eating my god damned food” he yelled angrily. Ever since that first night she had been sneaking his food out of the fridge. He had only caught her that first time but he knew it was her, Y/N never hiding the fact and making sure he knew how much she enjoyed it.

“But it tastes soooo good and you keep leaving it right there. How’s a girl to resist such temptation?” she looked so sweet, so innocent with bright eyes and an even brighter smile but the way she spoke, her tone low and teasing with just the hint of something darker, more carnal lurking underneath. Katsuki wanted to hear more of it, wanted her to whisper in his ear as she pushed up against him. “God damned suffer for all I care, just keep your thieving hands off my food”. She laughed, waving his angry words off like it was nothing and Katsuki snarled, bearing his teeth at her. “Enough bullshit! Fucking fight me already” he yelled, taking a step forward and palms sparking in his anger.

Huffing her smile fell, levelling him with a bored and unimpressed look. “Fine, have it your way blondie. Just try not to disappoint me”. As soon as she finished talking she lunged for him. Katsuki barley had time to dodge to the side, only just avoiding the punch aimed right at his face. She didn’t give him time to regain his footing, spinning round and coming for him once again.

She was quick, quicker than he had thought and stupidly light on her feet. She kept getting in close, nocking his arms away every time he tried to lift them to get a shot in, sending his explosions in the opposite directions. They dodged and weaved around one another, each one avoiding the others attacks. He wasn’t getting a hit in, couldn’t even get his hands anywhere near her to blast her back, if he didn’t do something soon he would never get an opening.

“Is that all you’ve got? How pathetic”. She sounded angry as she brought a knee up aiming for his stomach, at the same time she threw a punch, aiming for his head. He couldn’t deflect both, had to make a choice and fast. Throwing an arm up he blocked the punch, trying to bring his other arm round to block her leg but her cold fingers wrapping around his arm and holding it still. He grunted as her knee connected with his stomach, feeling like a rock was being shoved into him.

Growling he opened his palm, twisting it towards her and let off a large explosion. She let go of him, jumping back in an attempt to avoid his attack but he had been too close to miss. He smiled in triumph, knowing he had finally got a hit in along her side but the smile fell quickly as he caught sight of her. There was no mark, not even the bright pink flush of her skin getting hot. “What the hell” he whispered, the disbelief clear in his voice. How? How had she avoided his attack like that? Sure it hadn’t been that strong of an attack as he had only wanted to get her out of his space so he could do some real damage but still, there should still have been some sort of evidence of it left behind.

“Now that’s more like it” she yelled, her eyes bright with excitement. Katsuki took a step back, eyes wide as he took in the girl before him. She looked unhinged, smile wide and her hair a mess, just like a mad women and Katsuki felt like he was about to get ripped apart. “Give me everything you’ve got” she laughed as she darted forward, heading straight for him.

Growling Katsuki lifted he hands setting of explosion after explosion in an attempt to keep her back and for the most part it worked, keeping her away from him but he still wasn’t landing any hits, Y/N dodging every single one like they were nothing. She kept barrelling forward not caring about the possible damage that could befall her. As he let of a particularly large explosion his theory was conformed.

In two quick moves she was leaping through his attack, using the ground that was ripped free by the explosion as stepping stones and lunged at him. Katsuki quickly moved to the side, watching as she hit the ground rolling and sprung to her feet. The ends of her hair were singed, smudges of dirt and ash marring her flawless skin but other than that there was no mark of what she had just gone through, quite literally. That had to be it, that had to be her quirk. She could heal, that’s why she didn’t care about getting hurt and that made her dangerous.

She turned, making another dash for him and this time Katsuki didn’t hesitate. She had to have a limit to the healing and he would just have to keep pushing until she couldn’t keep it up any more. “Aghhhh” he cried running straight at her, using his quirk to propel him into the air at the last moment. He sawed above her, using an explosion to change the direction he was facing whilst bringing his other hand round and letting off another explosion at the back of her head. Y/N barley twisted away in time, avoiding the attack but Katsuki could see the way his quirk light up her eyes, the bright glow making them shine and it was stunning.

She swung round, grabbing his arm with cold hands and yanked him forward, using his own momentum to swing herself round and deliver a hard kick to the bottom oh his back. He cried out at the sudden sting of pain that shot up his back, stumbling forward. He quickly righted himself, bring his leg up as he spun round but she was ready for him, arms coming up to block his attack but he used her distraction to his advantage, bringing both hands up and aiming for her face. She leant back, tumbling back and Katsuki thought he had her but her arms went behind her and she swung her legs up, kicking his arms away and only just missing his face as she flipped backwards.

She flipped back a few times, putting some distance between them. When she came to stop she was crouched down low, one leg bent and the other outstretched to the side, a hand flat on the floor to keep her balanced. She was still smirking at him, her eyes dark almost black and despite everything Katsuki could feel his own smirk tugging at his lips. His heart was racing, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin and filling his gloves. He was having fun sparing for the first time in a long time and even though he wanted to win he didn’t want it over with just yet.

Laughing he started to run towards her, hands behind him and as he jumped he pushed himself forward with a few quick explosions. She pushed herself forward, her own laughter loud and echoing as she raced towards him. They met in a clash of fists and the loud booming bang of his quirk going off. They exchanged blows each of them getting in hits as they moved around the pitch. Dust and debris filled the air around them as he let of one explosion after another. Y/N used it to her advantage, using the chunks of ground to give height to her attacks.

Katsuki didn’t know how long they had been at it but he was starting to hurt, every time her punches and kicks made contact feeling like he was being hit by a brick wall and every time he managed to get a physical attack in it felt like he was hitting stone. It reminded him of fighting shitty hair, the way his body would harden and make it feel like his bones were going to crack every time he got a hit in.

Y/N leapt at him, spring boarding off a chunk of pitch that he had just sent flying her way. He lifted his right arm, palm opened wide and with a clear shot at her exposed stomach. It happened quickly, quicker than he could react to, his eyes widening as she sailed through the air. Her hands went to his gauntlet, forcing his hand down towards the ground as he let off his explosion. The attack gave her the momentum she needed and she flipped over his head and twisting in mid-air. Her knees connected with his back and forced him forward. Katsuki went down hard, crashing to the ground with a loud oomph.

She stayed on top of him, her legs on either side off him and sitting on his lower back. She had gotten one of his arms twisted behind his back, hand bent to force his palm against his side. The other hand she had pinned by his head, palm practically pushed against it. He was trapped, no way to use his quirk to get out of her hold without hurting himself.

Growling he turned his head to the side, glaring out across the pitch. It was destroyed, chunks missing in places and the rubble scattered across the entire arena. His class mates stared back at him, some smug and some in shock. Dunce face was leant forward, clinging onto Kirishima with a scared look on his face. His eyes dragged down the line, refusing to make eye contact until he got to Deku and the half ‘n’ half bastard. Deku looked worried, eyes wide and pleading as he clung onto the other teen, leaning forward so much that it looked like he would tumble to the ground. Half ‘n’ half was frowning, staring intently at Katsuki with a little furrow between his brows.

Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. He didn’t need their pity, didn’t need to see those stupid looks on their faces. Y/N shifted, leaning forward until her lips were next to his ear. Suddenly Katsuki was hyper aware of everywhere she was touching him, her bare arm resting against his outstretched one and her chest pressed tightly against his back and his arm digging into her stomach.

His eyes snapped open, gasping as she dragged her cold tongue along his cheek. “Ummm always so sweet” she moaned into his ear and Katsuki shivered. He should feel disgusted but some when in the last three weeks he had gotten used to it, come to expect it from her and every time they met he would be waiting for it with a mix of excitement and dread. “Get the fuck off me brat” he growled, trying to buck her off him but all it did was get her to press down harder against him. “Shame about the sour attitude” she grumbled.

“Get off” he snarled, trying to yank his arm down and out of her cold grip. She grabbed his chin with her free hand and forced his head to the side so he could look at her. “Make me” she snapped, her grip tightening to the point of being painful. He snarled, red eyes narrowed and full of anger. “You were doing so well but this is just pathetic. I thought you were supposed to be one of the top three, one of the best but it seems I was wrong”. She sounded upset, pouting at him like she had just been denied her favourite toy.

Growling Katsuki snapped at her, jerking his head back slightly to free himself of her cold hands. Seriously, why the hell was she so cold? He was getting goosebumps, his body cooling to the point he wasn’t able to produce sweat and that was not acceptable. “Like hell. I’m the god damned best here and I’m going to be number one”. He watched as a smile spread across her pink lips, the cut that candy cane had given her now completely gone. “Then prove it. Show me how much you want it hero”. Katsuki bristled at the way she said hero, that one word coming across mocking and full of distain.

What was her issue? She was in a school for heroes, a school where she would learn to become one yet Katsuki got the feeling that she didn’t really care all that much for what they were doing here. So why was she even here? Before he could ask she leant forward even more until their faces were just inches from one another. “Come on sparks, give it to me. Don’t hold back, I can take everything you can give me”. Her voice was low, only loud enough for him to hear and dripping with innuendo that had Katsuki’s mind racing with all the other situations she could be whispering those words to him.

What was wrong with him today? Never had he been this distracted before, never been this interested in someone before and at this rate he was going to combust from the need to get his hands on her. “Shut up” he growled, annoyed at his own inability to get her out of his head. He had to focus, had to get her off him so he could blast her across the pitch and be done with this shitty fight.

“I thought you were going to make me”. She laughed at the blush that he could feel spreading across his cheeks as she reminded him of the threat he had made earlier that morning. “How about a little motivation to get your head back in the game hum?” As she spoke she shifted, pressing her crotch against his arse. Katsuki sucked in a breath, once again being made aware of how close they were. He chanced another glance at his friends, their worry gone and replaced with amusement and confusion. They had been here to long, Katsuki not doing anything to get the girl off of him.

“If you win I’ll suck your dick” she whispered. Katsuki’s eyes shot open, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline as he choked on air. He could feel his dick twitch with interest, his breathing picking up and eyes stuck on her mouth as her tongue poked out to run across her lips. “What do you say hero? You beat my arse and I’ll let you own my mouth”. He actually whimpered at her words, already imaging what it would feel like. She hummed, leaning in and Katsuki was sure she was going to kiss him and he held his breath in anticipation of what was to come, forgetting where they were. Instead she turned at the last moment, ducking her head down and licked along his neck, humming as she did so. “I wonder if you’ll taste just as sweet there as you do here” she mumbled against the sensitive spot under his jaw.

Katsuki didn’t thinking, twisting the arm he had behind his back so he could press his palm against her naked thigh. His side stung as he let off a rather large explosion that was risky to use so close to his own body but it accomplished what he had been after.

With a surprised cry the girl jumped back, leaping away from Katsuki with quick agile movements. Katsuki quickly scrambled to his feet and turned on the other girl, charging towards her with an angry cry. He was angry with her for trying to distract him with something he knew he wanted and angry for himself for falling for her dirty tricks because no one would offer that kind of thing out like it was nothing and especially to someone who they didn’t even know.

Kicks and punches were thrown, explosions raining down on them as Katsuki pursued the girl with a single minded determination. His anger spurred him on, driving him to be a little more reckless than he probably should have been but he had stopped caring. He had a single minded determination to beat her and he wouldn’t give up until he was the one standing victorious.

She leapt back as Katsuki let off another attack, the blow grazing her stomach and making the skin flush red for just a few seconds. Laughing she pushed a few stray strands of hair back from where they had stuck to her forehead as she sweated. That struck Katsuki as strange, considering how cold she had been when pressed against him but now she was flushed red, sweat dripping down her brow.

“That one almost hurt but still not quite good enough blondie” she said smiling. Sighing she rolled her shoulders and head, stretching her arms out in front of her. “You know when all this is over I will be stood right here and you will be on your knees”. She said it so matter-of-factly that Katsuki almost believed her but he wouldn’t let that happen. “Like hell you would ever get me on my knees” Katsuki yelled, only realising his mistake when she winked at him. “Oh I don’t know, I can think of a few reasons why you would be”.

To hide his embarrassment Katsuki lunged for her, palms sparking as he grabbed for her. Y/N spun out of his way, effortlessly knocking his hand away as she swung her elbow up and smacked it into his jaw. Katsuki grunted as his head snapped to the side, a pain like an electric shock but ten times worse shot through his jaw and rattled through his teeth.

He twisted his arm, grabbing at her and spun on his feet, throwing her away from him. She went with it, rolling gracefully across the ground and spring to her feet. She didn’t even hesitate, running straight for Katsuki and he did the only thing he could think off. He lifted his arm, palm flat and facing towards her, sparking with his quirk. He waited until she was close to easily change direction, leaping through the air towards him and only then did he pulled the pin out of his gauntlet.

The explosion that ripped from him was large and devastating, ripping the ground to shreds but something wasn’t right. He lost sight of Y/N amongst the smoke and dust but he could have sworn he saw a shadow past by him in a blurry flash and then there was a loud bang from behind him, just seconds after his own shot went off. A burning pain shot through him as he was blasted forward, flying through the air at an alarmingly quick rate.

Using his quirk Katsuki slowed himself down, dropping back down to the ground and landing shakily on his feet. Growling he spun round, glaring back in the direction he had come from. That had been his quirk, his explosion that had sent him hurtling across the pitch but that couldn’t be possible, he had been aiming forward there shouldn’t have been any way for it to have come from behind. He couldn’t wrap his mind round what had happened, how he had ended up so far away from where he had started.

As the smoke and dust cleared he caught sight of Y/N stood motionless in the middle of the field, not a scratch on her. Growling he went to step forward, ready to end this once and for all. He didn’t know what had happened or how she had managed to avoid an attack like that but he wouldn’t let it happen again. “Bakugou that’s enough, take your seat”. Katsuki stopped, confused as to why he was being made to stop when they were both still standing.

Y/Ns shoulders relaxed, a wide and smug smile on her lips as she pointed towards her feet. Frowning Katsuki looked down, sucking in a breath as he saw where he was stood. The boundary line was just in front of him, a smudged mess but still clear as day. Katsuki dropped to his knees, defeated and full of disbelief. How? How had this happened? He hadn’t lost a fight in almost a year, he was the best after all and the best didn’t lose but somehow she had bested him. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“To bad, so sad, better luck next time” Y/N sing songed, shrugging her shoulders as if it was no big deal. Katsuki couldn’t do anything but look at the girl in a daze, struggling to understand how he had lost. “Come on man” Kirishima mumbled, slipping his arm around Katsuki and hauling him to his feet. He grunted as his friend dragged him back to his seat and he dropped down into it with a huff. “That sucks dude but that was one hell of a fight” Sero said, leaning round Ashido to pat him on the back. “Seems that perky arse was harder to get than you thought” Ashido giggled but Katsuki didn’t hear her, his mind still stuck as he went over their fight again and again, trying to work out where he had gone wrong.

“Well if it isn’t the leader of the welcome committee, ready to get your arse handed to you?” At Y/Ns teasing voice Katsuki looked up, finding Deku stood in the middle of the filed looking at her with a frown. He stood tall, head held high with a look of determination about him. “I know what your quirk is” he yelled and everyone seemed to suck in a breath, waiting for the green haired boy to answer.

Y/N laughed gently, running a hand through her hair and Katsuki lent forward as he waited to hear what the nerd had to say. The kid was smart and way to observant for his own good and Katsuki wouldn’t put it past him to have figured it out just like he had. Y/N shrugged, smiling at the green haired boy in amusement. “I knew you would, that’s why I saved you till last”.

[babykatsu]

REVERSE UNO— 02 focus in class

continues below

Somehow you managed to refocus for the rest of the lesson, putting your phone aside. You knew what was coming after class and it honestly had you slightly nervous. Not that you liked Bakugou or anything, but you two have never had a proper conversation in person before. It was only natural you felt a slight nervous rush coarse through your body.

Gently, you shut your textbook and tucked it away in your bag, stealing another glance at your crush, Shouto. Oh how badly you wanted it to be him you were meeting after class but instead it was that angry gremlin. Reality sunk in again and you dreaded the interaction that was inching closer. Every step leading you closer to the wrong person. One more look, you took one more look at Shouto behind your shoulder before exiting the room.

“You’re late”

His voice took you by surprise, his stern tone drummed in your head. He was an earache to say the least.

Bakugou.

“How? Class finished legit two seconds ago” You crossed your arms in defence, scrunching your face at the boy in front of you.

It was only then that you finally took in his features: his tan skin, oddly smooth with zero imperfections in sight, his eyes crimson red with a tinge of orange floating around, his jaw sharp and narrow. He wasn’t half bad looking up close you thought. Regardless, his personality was ass mixed with boiled eggs. Just an over all awful encounter.

“You had me waiting for way longer than I should have”

“Well sorry boss, i had my textbooks to put away”

“Or maybe you had your eyes to put away. Staring at half and half” He rolled his eyes at you, flicking your forehead.

He was painfully observant. You felt your insides get hot in embarrassment, wishing u could just stop existing.

“Shut up” you managed to say, averting ur gaze from his.

“Whatever. Here’s the notes, dumbass”

In his hand he held the notes and you couldn’t help but analyse his handwriting and presentation. Neat, very neat. Not something you expected from him, having witnessed his brash personality.

“right, thanks!”

You reached for the notes, grabbing them from his hand before tucking them away with the rest of your stuff.

“Mhm” Bakugou just hummed a response, shoving his hands in his pockets nonchalantly.

“So do you wanna just separate who does what for the assignment or do you wanna do it together?” He finally asked.

You didn’t know what exactly you wanted. On one end, it would be easier for you to just avoid him and his weird attentiveness. But you knew getting to know him better could help you get closer with Shouto, and he clearly already knew you at least were somewhat interested in Shou.

“We could call or meet to do it together” You smiled at him. “It’s more fun together”, finally deciding on the second option.

Opportunities like these don’t come around often.

He didn’t reply right away, a blank expression plastered on his face. Oddly enough, making you more anxious by the second as you awaited his response.

You watch his eyes suddenly avert to something behind you. You followed his stare, leading you to Shouto. SHOUTO.

“Enjoy your study date, Bakugou” Shouto smiled politely at him, then you.

You flustered under his gaze. There was no way he just smiled at you. HE SMILED AT YOU. You internally combusted as you returned your view to the ogre. Wait- did he just say study DATE?

Bakugou was just as flustered as you, his shoulders stiff and cheeks sprinkled a rosy pink.

“It’s not a fucking date, shit face” He barked, flipping his friend off only to receive a giggle from him in return.

Wow, his giggle was to die for.You both watched Shouto walk away, you being more entranced by him than humanly acceptable.

“There’s no way he thinks this is a date” You say in defeat as you turned back to Bakugou. You didn’t mean to say it aloud, but somehow you did.

“Ah- sorry. I didn’t mean it like that”

“It fine. He’s just joking”

Bakugou shrugged in return but there was something off about his demeanour, you just couldn’t quite tell what exactly it was.

“Well, text me when you get home. We’ll arrange when we’re going to do this assignment stuff then” He flicked your forehead one last time, before walking past you not even awaiting your response.

What just happened? You stood dumbfounded as you tried to process everything. All you knew was that you had to get Bakugou to be your wingman as soon as possible. There’s no way you were going to lose your chance with Shouto because he is getting the wrong idea. No way.

And did Bakugou just ask you to text him when you got home?

What a weirdo.

chapter end

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AUTHORS NOTE

not me making a love triangle🥰🥰🥰🥰 now imagine what would happen if y/n just so happened to ask bakugou for his help getting her with shouto. TEA.

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