#why am i still up i have school in the morning

[okwonyo]

PARTITION ꣑୧ 이희승

𝖲𝖢𝖤𝖭𝖠𝖱𝒾𝖮 ✴︎ 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌.

【 備考 】 academic rival!heeseung & fem!rea 11OO high school au fluff ( ˵ˊᯅˋ˵ ) tension flirting

じや ⠀⦂⠀for hana banana bby @yeokii

reblogs ────── ㅤㅤ✿︎ㅤㅤ ︎ㅤㅤ︎ㅤclick

this isn’t how you imagined your day to end. it wasn’t what you imagined when you woke up this morning. this isn’t how you planned your evening nor this definitely wasn’t what you thought would happen.

but, you admit that it is nice. well— from your point of view. spending some time with the boy you spent you entire year competing, fighting to get better grades, is nice. even if it’s because you both got told to clean the classroom as a punishment.

it might see weird. it would be weird, if it wasn’t for the fact that your heart flatter at the mention of his name alone.

being here with him makes you happy.

the sun shining behind the classroom’s windows makes the winter cold weather more bearable. it reflects on the tables in the room, the rays follow a precise trajectory— from the sky to the boy at the opposite of the room. you try to not stare too much, but you admit that you let yourself peek over at him from time to time.

the silence is quite deafening. you and him never talked much about anything that wasn’t school related. even then, you just tell each other who will top the other in the school’s ranks.

it’s during a time where you are not looking that his voice reaches you, making your blood stop in your veins, your heart jumps.

“why did you do that?” heeseung’s eyes don’t leave the floor he is cleaning as he asks. unlike you, he doesn’t stop in his frenetic movements.

your gape at him. saying that you are confused is an understatement, “what?”

this time, heeseung stops. taking a deep breath as he leans the sweep in his hand against the wall. watching him close his eyes and slide his hands in his pockets makes heat rise in your body.

his steps lead him to you when he opens his eyes again. how he presents himself in the decelis uniform distracts you so much, you don’t realize how close he is getting to you.

your eyes are fixated on the red and grey cravat. you wonder how he makes it seem so much more attractive that it looks on anyone else.

“the reason we are here in the first place,” you feel something in your stomach when he speaks again. he has gotten so close, you have to tilt your head up to see him properly.

the memory of what happened a few hours prior makes you look away in embarrassment. you bite your lip nervously as the image of him finding out about that appears in your brain.

still, you decide to feign pure ignorance, “i don’t know what you are talking about.”

you still don’t look at him as he gets closer, making you walk backwards. he doesn’t say anything for a while but you can feel his stare— although your gaze is fixated on the floor beside you.

he calls your name, still stepping closer. you look at the floor then at your other side, carefully avoiding any eye contact, “don’t lie to me, please.”

the way his body language contrasts with how pleading he sounds is utterly attractive.

“i know how smart you are,” he continues, praising you as his body oppresses your own. he corners you between a table and his tall frame as he continues, “so smart. i am sure you wouldn’t do bad on a question as simple as it was.”

your breath catches as he leans forward. he is obviously waiting for an answer but you can’t find enough strength in yourself to come up with one.

heeseung is so close. so much that his hands are on the furniture behind you, each one next to your hips. he is straight up jailing you with his body. you can’t breathe, you can’t escape.

“why did you write an wrong answer on purpose?” he explicit his question, even if he knows you understood it already. what you don’t really comprehend is how he expects you to say anything when he is so close. “c’mon, look at me.”

you take a moment before obliging. his eyes have never been this wide before. so lovely, so demanding. you want to melt.

and before you can stop yourself, your heart speaks for you, “i thought you would like it.”

it is like the world stops as soon as you talk. his eyes grow a tad wider— mirroring his surprise. it is definitely not what he was expecting, you can see it all over his face.

but heeseung is smart, not smarter than you are, but smarter than most. it takes him a few seconds to realize what you truly meant by that.

to be frank, you did think he’d prefer a girl that wasn’t like you. you still think the same, maybe if you weren’t always competing and winning against him, he’d see you for something else than a rival.

that’s the kind of girl he is usually seen with. girls that praise him.

heeseung for sure doesn’t think the same.

he leans back, finally letting you out of the jail he made. you can finally breathe properly, your chest heaves and relax— nervousness finally leaving your body.

it comes back like a boomerang. when you look at heeseung again. he is still close to you, way too close and the way he looks at you isn’t pleading anymore.

he doesn’t seem displeased by what he found out. not at all. he seems to like it a bit too much.

he tilts his head to the side, a grin growing on his face. it annoys a lot, how easy he can make you blush with his antics.

“it is what this is about?” he chuckles, now almost smirking down at you. he gets leans towards you again, his face a few inches away from yours. his breath is on your mouth and it makes you so warm all over. but you can’t look away from this beautiful sight.

“you are smart,” he praises again. butterflies in your stomach, you swear you might be doing heart eyes right now. “much smarter than i am and i find it hot,” you feel the need to lick your lips slightly when his gaze falls on them. “really hot, i don’t need you to make me feel smarter to like you.”

you can’t say anything back. your throat is well too dry to even think of it.

he keeps getting closer, his mouth brushes yours, “you are the only girl who challenges me and,” he is almost there. “i love it.”

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

[corruptedcaps]

Brat Training

"Mmm, I always thought your girlfriend Lana had a dorky body, but now that I'm in control, I can see she just didn't use it to its full potential. Like, look at these tits? They're way bigger than mine.

Oh didn't she tell you? She hired me to 'train' her body and mind. I'm like a life coach but I take control of my clients body's. Lucky for your girlfriend that I gave her a friends and family discount even though I am far from being either. We went to high school together and see was such a dweeb and clearly still is if she needed my help.

Bet she used to whine about me, calling me bitchy bully Becky. She was right, too. I was such a nasty slut in high school but no one dared to mess with me. Clearly that's why your lame girlfriend asked for my help. Dead end job, no fashion sense, being walked over by everyone, including you. But that ends today. I've already made some positive changes.

And her wardrobe? Oh, she dressed like she was still in high school. But with this body and her new clothes that I bought by maxing out her card, I'm going to make sure everyone knows what a queen looks like. I'll wear those tight dresses she was too scared to even think about.

And her voice, oh, her voice! She always spoke so quietly, like she was afraid of her own shadow. But now, it's a perfectly bratty tone that will make everyone do as I... or I mean, as she says. Just this morning I was able to get one of the baristas at her favourite coffee place fired for spelling her name wrong on the cup. Just a few choice words and my new manicure tapping on the counter had the manager fold so fast.

Oh, and those friends of hers, so dorky and annoying, well I’ve kicked them to the curb. They were holding her back. You should have seen the looks on their faces when I made fun of them one by one. They were so crushed that even if Lana wanted to reverse the damage I’ve done, her friends would be too afraid to trust her.

See what your girlfriend never understood was that being a hawt bully was the only way to get what you want. Now that I’ve turned her into one she’s going to have no problem getting everything and anyone that she desires.

But you know what I’m desiring right now? You. Oh don’t worry baby it’s not cheating if it’s her body. Besides you want to be familiar with her new bitchy energy when she takes over right?

First off, I'm going to get down on my knees, right in front of you, and I'm going to take your big cock in my mouth like you've never felt before. This mouth, it's not going to be all shy whispers anymore. It's going to work you, tease you, show you what a real blowjob feels like. I'll look up at you with these big eyes, all innocent and yet so fucking naughty, watching your reaction as I take you deeper, make you moan like you never have.

Then, when you're at the edge, I'll stand up, push you down, and climb on top. This body, it's going to ride you like it was made for it. I'll move my hips in ways she never could, make you feel every inch of this new, improved version of her. I'll lean down, let those big, beautiful tits brush against your face, driving you wild.

We'll change positions, because I want to feel you from every angle. From behind, where I can show off this new, sexy arch in my back, taking you deep, making those sounds she was too embarrassed to make. And then, on your back again, where I'll grind down, slow and deep, watching your face, knowing I'm in control now, knowing I'm giving you the best damn sex of your life.

And all the while, I'll whisper in your ear, tell you how much better it is with me in charge, how this body was wasted on her, but now, it's yours to enjoy, in ways you never thought possible. Because, baby, I’m never leaving. This is my body now and this is just the beginning."

[godhandler]

Tokyo Day 

| s. geto x reader, mentions of n. zenin x reader, infidelity, angst, fluff ending, geto is an unstable maniac in love as he was created to be, porn with serious plot, 1.2k words, part 1 | [COMPLETED]

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a/n: even though this is split into 4 parts for ease of reading, please read them in one go <3

The dildo drips through the toilet paper it’s been hurriedly wrapped up in, ruining your vintage Gilbert Adrien bedsheet. It’s a beautiful silk collectible, one your husband gifted you after you caught him cheating the thousandth time. This time wasn’t like the other times– your little son saw them together too. He still asks you things like– “why was oto-san’s peepee inside that lady’s mouth, mama?” and you can only distract him with the promise of a Lunchly.

You rue the cum stain on your bedsheet when you return from the bathroom, cleaned and dressed for the day. It’s not the kind of bedsheet one has sex on, it was built to be showcased under glass cases in museums; your morning masturbation session has lined it with creases that cannot be ironed out. It’s the damn dildo, you decide, ruining my life. 

In the opposite side of Kyoto, Suguru awakens late today. Sundays are holy days that his followers spend in prayer since dawn, ergo he can sleep in till almost 10 am. His children have left him a letter on the dining table under the orange juice in Nanako’s kawaii handwriting– “Getoooo-san! School trip to Tokyo today, sorry sorry forgot to tell you! (here Mimiko had pasted a sticker of Punpun apologising) Please send us six A4 size canvas boards! You don’t trouble your old bones, please send driver oppa instead! Thank you! We love you!! We’ll bring Tokyo candies home!!” 

He sighs into his morning tea. This is a recurring issue. The girls would forget their school projects till the last possible minute. Lord knows how many times Suguru has had to drive around Kyoto in the asscrack of the morning to look for school supplies while also lecturing them on the phone. 

But this… this feels like subterfuge. He doesn’t doubt that his girls genuinely did forget about the school trip, but specifically asking the recently recruited young handsome ex-idol driver who they giggle about to be the one to travel all the way to Tokyo to deliver trivial goods to his daughters– Suguru’s blood pressure spikes at the very thought. 

“Manami!” He shrieks across the bungalow. She must be somewhere, doing his taxes and whatnot. “Manami, pull the car around! Now!”

“Master Geto, what’s the hurry?” His trusty assistant materialises in front of him. It is the unexplainable skill of any PA worth their salt to be able to materialise whenever and wherever they are needed, and immediately vanish when they are not. She watches him dressing into his robes in a flurry, puzzled. “Is it about the girls? They’re in Tokyo for a school trip. Don’t worry, they have curses bodyguarding them.” 

“Fuck those curses!” He shouts. “No daughter of mine will start secretly meeting some K-pop prettyboy who doesn’t even have a proper job and wears Crocs–”

“If this is about their little crush on the driver Park-kun, it's natural at their ages. Even I myself went through that. I believe that Park-kun is used to it, and will behave appropriately with our underage girls. I can vouch for him, sir.”

If someone as asexual as Manami, who used her otherworldly beauty to recruit followers into his cult and for absolutely nothing more (disappointing talent casting agents and horny men across Japan), could have a crush at that age, Suguru thinks, perhaps I should let the girls be. Falling in love might just be a rite of passage at that age. Nothing bad will happen. Who knows, they might even turn out like Manami.

It was a very rational thought. Unfortunately, it had no effect on Suguru at all. Rational thoughts will continue to not bother Suguru today.

He could just imagine his sweet baby girl holding that mop-haired loser’s hand, insisting that it’s true love and that she wants to marry him. His blood pressure spikes even higher. 

“Manami. Car. Now.” 

Fully dressed, perfumed, hair decorated, he sat delicately in the backseat of the Range Rover, Manami driving them both to Tokyo, six A4 size canvas boards in hand. He hasn’t smelt the air of Tokyo, the city of his youth, in quite a while. 

You rush about, trying to get your son ready for school. Lately he’s been so pushy and disobedient, the influence of the Zenins setting in. It frightens you internally, watching your sweet boy turn slowly like his half-brother whom he idolises. 

Once you drop the boy off at his primary school, you return home to a fully packed day-bag and exchange the city-car Mercedes for the Volvo SUV, more comfortable for the 5 hour journey ahead of you today. Your son’s 7th birthday is only a few days away. Even though Kyoto is a great place, there are some shops that only open in the capital. Armed with a driver and four hand-maids to carry the bags, you set off. With your son in school, who’s even there in the household to say goodbye to?

It’s not just any birthday: your son will most probably get his cursed technique this year. Most of the higher-ups of Jujutsu society will be attending, including some of your old friends and classmates who you haven’t talked to in almost a decade. 

It has to be perfect. It has to be extravagant. It has to make a statement– My son is powerful. Don’t fuck with us. 

Oh, to be powerful. 

Suguru Geto can taste the curses in the air as his Rolce Royce pulls into Tokyo. Exhaustion– he snaps his fingers, it tastes like exhaustion. Exhaustion of adult life. 

“Somewhere in this city Nanami must be going down for lunch. He always ate at 1.30 sharp.” 

“Nanami?” Manami smiled at her almost-namesake.

“My underclassman back from Jujutsu High.” Suguru chatters away. “Wonder if he still likes tomatoes raw but never cooked? Does he still listen to MCR? I hope that he cut that god awful hair.” He laughs heartily. “Oh, what am I saying, he must have. He'll be 27 by now. Ah, they grow up so quick. 

And I can imagine Shoko in full scrubs, dissecting people her little scalpel. God that thing was so sharp, you wouldn’t believe! She used to make us her lab rats– she’s cut us up to memorise the bones and muscles under the skin and once she was done she’d heal us right up. Why did we even agree?” He laughs so hard his bun slips out its hair tie. “Crazy girl! One night before her medical exams she’d make all four of us boys sit in a row and by next morning we’d come out with scar marks head to toe.”

His laughter settles into an uncontrollable smile. “And then came those two. They stuck lice to me– always ‘Suguru, come here!’ and ‘Suguru, go there!’. So full of life. Ha–” He rests his head back, eyes closed. “Those were the days, Manami. Those were some good days.” 

The SUV makes it to Tokyo by lunchtime. You decide to get the invitations out of the way first, you’d be free to shop in peace after. You order your driver– “Let’s visit the Jujutsu School first. Yaga and Gojo should be there, I’ll give them the cards in person.” 

“Drive by the Jujutsu High school, Manami. I just want to see if they’ve changed anything.”

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[oscconfessions]

i actually need flower bfdi so bad, it's unhealthy. i lick actual flowers because i want her so bad. i need to eat her. i think of her night and day, i fall asleep holding my flower plush & cuddle her and love her and my 20+ pictures of her watch me sleep every night and i cry when i remember she's not real. i never make any sorts of paper crafts, but i still have one i made of her from like two years ago and i still cherish it. i wake up every morning & think "what a wonderful day to love flower!" i start the day thinking of her. in school when someone says flower i whip around and say "where!" i talk to my parents about her. i have a 10 page document on my notes app of my ideas about her + tons of x oc oneshots and i draw her so much and i giggle when i see pink and when my therapist asked me to draw a symbol representing love in my eyes i drew a pink flower and i have so much lore for her and her family in my headcanons and she is my phone wallpaper and my tablet wallpaper and i would make her my actual room's wallpaper but i'd have to take down all my pictures of her. she is my lover and we are happily married and we kiss every day. she is like the sun to me, just as warm and radiant and beautiful and she gives me as much life. flower is my hope, my joy, my heart, my soul, my live, my laugh, my love, my blood, my sweat, my tears, my everything. my reason to live. my one true love. no one will ever take her away from me. she's mine forever and ever. the reason why i get sleep, why i eat, why i do everything. she is my life. flower bfdi is my life. i am flower's number one fan, spouse, and partner. it is me, it always has been me, and it always will be me. me and no one else. no one else. no one else. no one else. i am flower's one and only, and she is mine too.

.

[carbonationmilk]

Here's the big boy

Here's a few different versions of it like one without the person and one without lines

[saltinesinsoup]

aughhh the hell of like. being sick but feeling decent like i could go to class. and the knowledge that like. probably shouldnt. and also my class is in half an hour and i havent had lunch

[itsalwaysdark]

bedtime nowww probably ummm today qas not what i wanted it 2 be but its fine. i dont feel negative just a very very very numb day which is almost worse. but only almost 🙏

[bedlamsbard]

Now I'm just mad and that makes me sad. :/ I really do try incredibly hard not to hate things in this fandom, which doesn't always work out because, you know, feelings, and I don't want to think about hating things! I want to think about things I like!

[nerdie-faerie]

There are school kids about, this is awful, why would you make someone be awake at this time?

[loverboybrightsideghost]

they should invent a way to ask if you have felt suicidal or have had suicidal thoughts at the doctor when they ask where you'll answer truthfully. i am fine and i always fight the suicidal thoughts but i went to the urgent care the other day and they asked and i said no no nothing like that. but i lied! of course i have! i've been vaguely fantasizing about getting hit by a car the past few days!!! i truly hate suicide for Reasons, it makes me incredibly sad and distressed, and for myself sometimes i don't even realize it's started creeping into my head again (i'm fine i genuinely promise) but like. as much as i hate it, it's there in some of my friends and me and i have to wonder about the fact that "yeah, but doesn't everyone at least a little bit?" isn't the right answer.

[aria0fgold]

My cold got worse... I can't breathe much again orz... We stay losing I guess... I blame all of this on that blinding rat.

[yuquinzel]

atsumu who goes above and beyond to impress you, his crush and classmate of four years, in all definitions of “impress.”

honestly how the fuck isn't it obvious to you by now, he might as well be walking around with “i like y/n” tattooed on his forehead.

you mention you like guys that can cook once and holy fuck atsumu who still doesn't know how to use the microwave without quite literally burning the food, who's never chopped onions before without ending up with enough cuts to bandage his whole hand— that atsumu practices for weeks and stays up till 2 am to prepare for the lunch he'll make for himself, because osamu said said no and then because you bring homemade lunch to stay and eat in class with your friends— he'll casually just plop down on the seat next to you, his friends will then very obviously willingly talk loudly about his lunch and he'll just throw in a, “yeah, made it maself, 'm a solid chef, who do ya think taught 'samu?”

okay if that didn't get your attention, no worries, what are his friends there for?

if atsumu gets lucky in a day and catches you chatting away with your friends in the hallway, then he instructs his friends to walk past you, hover in the corner, just within your earshot— “'kay, so when we pass her by, ya gotta speak ma name real loud, loud enough so she can hear it, but don't annoy her”

and so for the time you stand there, trying to hold a conversation with your friends, all your mind can really focus on is the, “atsumu was so fucking good in practice today, if we're gonna win, then it'll be all him”

and then you hear the subject of the conversation speak, “nah, we're a team, every time we win, it's all thanks ta you guys,” because you also mentioned you like modest, humble guys.

god forbid the days you're absent in class.

atsumu who's sulking all day, doesn't know what the fuck is going on in classes, he's half in and half not in every conversation, even his passes are sloppy and weak. to the point osamu and suna are concerned, well, in their own ways, “are ya constipated or something, yer missin’ your spikes and yer passes as clumsy,” osamu says off-handedly.

“i heard y/n didn't come today, i think her friends said she's sick.” suna chips in, and atsumu shrinks in his spot like a grumpy cat.

“i already know that, wouldn't have come today if i knew she wasn't comin’.”

“you'd miss practice then.”

“don't care, don't talk to me, don't wanna do anything, what's the point.”

“down fucking bad,” suna muses, and atsumu glares at him.

atsumu's day is ruined and his disappointment is immeasurable. why did you get sick? how could you get sick? now he's worried and half of himself and his passes are shit and god, he wants to see you. he feels like he could die.

then when you finally show up the next day after what felt like eternity to atsumu, you find on your desk a pile of snacks with a little note— banana milk, everyone knows it's your favourite, the bar of chocolate they only sell down the convenience store near the school, the glazed donuts that you're always eating in class, and a lot of bubblegums that only one person in class knows you like— atsumu's handwriting is rushed and barely comprehensive but you know it by heart because he doesn't know you saw him slip the note you found in your locker this morning, and countless other mornings—

“i hope you smile because of this”

atsumu as a secret admirer is... not so secret because he's still unaware that you see him every morning, and let him giggle to himself as he slips the notes and the strips of bubblegums in your locker— you don't even like that flavor.

but he gave them, so you think they might just be your favourite.

then again, maybe atsumu doesn't want to be a secret admirer.

atsumu has a crush on you and you know that— he's very obvious. but he's also very dense and doesn't realise that everyone besides him can see you like him too. he doesn't know the only reason you bring homemade lunch is because he had started to eat lunch in class with his friends. you stand in the hallways with your friends pretending to talk so that when atsumu's walking past you, his friends will practically yell his name and you'll see him blushing shyly. he still doesn't know you come to his every match, cheering for him and scream with joy at every one of his scores.

atsumu makes it obvious he has a crush on you but is stupidly dense that you reciprocate all the same :'))))

© yuquinzel 2024 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

POSTING BECAUSE WHY TF NOT HUH HUHHHHHHHHH

@kyoghurts hi bbg

[jov1ii]

Sleepy Mornings

♡⃕.pairing: Husband!Salesman x Wife!Reader

♡⃕summary: a sleepy morning with your husband.

♡⃕.a/n: am I the only one who thinks he would be a super sweet husband?😭

The marriage you had with him was not one you had originally wanted for yourself. You always wanted something... slow. You always imagined yourself to marry your high-school sweetheart but when your father arranged a marriage with him, could you really deny it? For love bloomed from even the thorniest of gardens.

He was away most of the time— doing whatever he did to earn a living. But that did not mean that he was one who shyed away when it came to showing you the affection you deserved.

He would slip under the duvet whenever he'd find you alone, lying on his bed. Then he would plant gentle kisses on your shoulder, knowing that you weren't sleeping.

Even though the marriage was arranged, falling in love was inevitable.

He never wanted to feel emotions, but there he was, burying his face in your neck.

As the morning sun streamed through the windows, you found yourself enveloped in the warmth and comfort of his embrace. His strong arms held you close, and the steady rhythm of his breathing against your skin created a soothing lull.

"Don't move." He grunted, his chest pressed against your back, his lips caressing the crook of your neck.

"You're not going to work today?" You ask and his grip around you tightened.

He nuzzles his nose into your neck, closing his eyes. "No." He murmurs, his voice hoarse due to sleep. He holds you closer to his body, not ready to let you go.

He loved your skin. The way it felt under his fingertips, when he held your hand, caressing your fingers, or when you moved underneath him.

His nose was buried in your neck, a place that smelled like you, that smelled like home.

As you tried to get up again, he protested again. A low grumble leaves his lips, a rumble that sounds almost like a growl. "I told you to not move." He says.

"And why is that?" You ask, smiling to yourself. Your hand finds its way to his much larger ones, covering them.

"Because I want to have a morning in bed with my wife." He murmurs, his breath brushing against your skin.

He hated to admit it, but he needed you — and he didn't want to be away from you.

He loved your curves, the way your body arched under his touch whenever you were beneath him, how your body felt against his.

He kisses your shoulder, your neck, and a shiver shoots down your spine, making your heart skip a beat.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck once more, inhaling your scent deeply. He loves that smell. Your smell.

You smiled, giving in to his pleading. You knew you wouldn't be able to leave with him practically glued to you.

You turned your face so that you could look at him. He was pouting as usual, looking so damn adorable that you wanted to kiss the pout away.

"Don't smile at me like that." The man muttered, as if reading your mind.

He held you tightly against his chest, as if worried you might slip away if he loosened his grip even a little.

His eyes were still closed, but you could feel his fingers tracing patterns lazily on your skin.

And just like that, you knew that he had no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

[itgetzweird08]

“Damn- already Bakugo? The movie isn’t even over!”

Denki whined, grabbing the remote to pause the comedy that was playing on the tv. It was movie night in the dorms, a way for the class to bond and decompress after classes. Everyone was huddled together, wrapped in blankets and sharing snacks. All accept Bakugo, who scowled at his yellow haired friend.

“It’s my bed time. I’ll see you nerds in the morning.” Denki huffed, crossing his arms as he muttered about Bakugo’s old man behavior. But Kirishima smiled, giving him a short wave and a “sleep well Baku-bro!”. The rest of the class also sent their goodnight wishes as Bakugo headed to his room.

It was only 8:30, which was a bit early even for Bakugo. He usually headed to bed around 9, but tonight was special.

When he got to his room, he locked his door and walked to his mirror, making sure his hair was to his liking and that there was no popcorn in his teeth. When he caught himself fretting over his appearance, he rolled his eyes and scoffed, wiping his sweaty palms on his jogging pants. ‘The fuck am I worried for? It’s just a Skype call’. And while he was right, it was just a call, it was a call with /you/.

You and Bakugo had been dating long distance for the past year and a half.

You met at the I-island convention, where you two got into a friendly competition at one of the challenges. After you managed to beat him at his own game, he recruited Mina to find you on social media. Anyone who could beat him was special..and it didn’t hurt that you were gorgeous to boot. However, his heart sank when he found out that you didn’t live in Japan. Still, he decided to follow and dm you anyways..which you promptly answered. The two of you have been talking non stop ever since.

What was just messaging turned into calling, then FaceTiming, to full on movie nights where you would count down to try and start the movie at the same time. And while it was inconvenient, it was fun. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Which is why he was always promptly on time for your calls. You had both been busy that week, so you weren’t able to talk as much as you normally did, which is why you scheduled the call. With the time difference, you would be slowly waking up to get ready for school while he was going to bed. He was able to tell you about his day, while he watched you get ready for yours.

The time difference was a hard challenge to navigate, but you made it work. Talking to eachother was the high light of both of your days. You loved seeing his face and hearing his voice, even if it was virtual and he loved the same. You were both very meticulous in nature as well, making sure that your times were aligned to get the most out of your talks as possible. That way, it always felt like enough.

And while it would be nice to hold him, to see his face in person, to kiss him..this was enough for now.

Bakugo hopped into his bed, plugging up his phone before pressing call and waiting for you to answer. And when you did, he was met with sleepy eyes and a warm smile. He could’ve sworn his heart was doing actual backflips.

“Hi Kats..”

“Morning dumbass”

You smiled at him, your heart fluttering at his teasing. And just by seeing your smile he knew, that until he could get to you, this would be enough for him.

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Ps: im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 5 (part two)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 3.8k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

Years later, you’d still wonder if Topper did it all on purpose. 

When you asked him, he’d just wink and say “bet you’d like to know.” 

As your group walked down the dock towards the rental kiosk, Topper pulled out his phone, grinning down at the screen.

“What’s funny?” Carter tried to read over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” he tucked his phone in his pocket quickly, failing to hide the cheeky look in his eyes, zero poker face. “Kelce is coming.”

The guy Carter had haggled with brought your group over to the three jet skis and gave you a demonstration on how to drive them. You weren’t paying very close attention, more focused on the uneven pairing of the five of you and how to ensure you didn’t end up on the same jet ski as Tom. His rudeness this morning was the final nail in the coffin of your crush.

The guy gave Carter three keys, and you met her eyes, knowing she was thinking the same thing. 

Topper looked at Carter hopefully, his big puppy dog eyes watching her with anticipation. You felt for him, the two of you really weren’t all that different. Sure, he’d gotten to hook up with Carter plenty of times, his crush not totally unrequited, but she’d never given him what he really wanted. At the end of the day, you were just two people who were really good at loving people who didn’t love you back. Still, you knew in your heart of hearts that Carter did love him back, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Maybe you would never get your dream, but you could make sure that two people you cared about got theirs, and that might be the only thing that made this all worth it.

You planned it out quick, knowing Carter was seconds from asking you to ride with her so you wouldn’t be with Tom, and also knowing that what she really wanted was an afternoon alone with Topper.

“I told Kelce I’d ride with him,” you blurted out. 

“Did you?” Carter asked skeptically, trying to figure you out.

“Yeah, I think he’s still worried I’m mad at him,” you made up off the top of your head. “Thought I’d throw him a bone.”

Carter watched you the whole time she boarded the back of Topper’s jet ski, telling him to wait up so they didn’t leave you alone. Tom and Sabrina didn’t seem to care about leaving you, speeding off the second they climbed on their jet ski, Sabrina’s over-the-top shrieks echoing through the air.

“That bother you?” Topper asked when he caught you scowling in their direction.

“Actually, I’m thinking they might be made for each other,” you concluded.

“So you’re not, like, into him?” Topper asked hopefully.

“Not anymore. That ship sailed so quick,” you snorted.

“Ah,” he tried to play it cool, “good to know.” 

“Don’t get any fucking ideas,” Carter warned him.

“I didn’t say anything!” He insisted.

“You don’t have to, you have zero poker face,” Carter said. “No Tom does not equal yes Rafe.”

“I’m just saying it’s good to know. Am I not allowed to know things?” 

You rolled your eyes at their bickering, less than surprised they were having this conversation right in front of you.

“Y’know, you guys can just take off, I’ll be fine waiting for Kelce,” you offered, desperate to move this conversation about your love life out to sea and away from you.

“Right, Kelce,” Topper nodded. “Kelce is coming.”

“Why are you being so weird?!” Carter squinted at him.

“I’m not! I just wanna go!” Topper revved the engine of the jet ski.

Carter looked at you one more time, checking that you were okay with this.

“Have fun!” You said to reassure her.

That’s all Topper needed to hear, he hit the throttle and pulled away from the dock as fast as he could. Carter’s laughter filled the air, she grabbed him tight and tucked her chin in the crook of his shoulder as he drove. She was happy, so you were happy. Your whole life, that’s really all it took, and you knew she felt the same way about you.

With that lovely thought, you climbed on the jet ski so you’d be ready to go as soon as Kelce arrived. 

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Rafe held the keys a little too tight, Kelce struggling to pry them from his hands.

“You gotta take it easy on the clutch, she’s sensitive.”

“I know how to drive, man,” Kelce wriggled the keys from his grip as he climbed into the driver’s seat of Rafe’s truck.

Rafe stalled by the door for a minute, his feet suddenly feeling very heavy. He looked around the marina, scanning for the group. His heart skipped a beat when he found only you, bobbing in the water on your jet ski all alone.

He’d texted Topper a head’s up that he was coming and asked him to let you know. He didn’t want you to think he was in on Topper’s dumbass scheme to get you two together. If he was gonna do this he was gonna do it right, not try to trick you into it.

Now you were waiting for him, looking so gorgeous with your legs on either side of the seat and your hair blowing gently in the wind. 

Usually, he didn’t call girls beautiful, typically opting for hot, or sometimes pretty if he was drunk. But the only word for you right now, and always, was beautiful.

“You gonna let me leave, man?” Kelce asked, gesturing to Rafe’s hands, still clutching the handle of the door.

“Yeah, sorry,” Rafe pulled away, wiping his hand against his board shorts when he realized it was clammy, the sight of you making him nervous in a way he had never been before.

“What’s got you so worried? Are you scared of her or something?” Kelce mocked him.

Rafe was surprised that Kelce had actually caught on to who he was looking at, giving him an annoyed eye roll.

“I’m not scared of her,” he defended himself.

“Don’t even worry about it man, I bet she’s still wrapped around your finger.”

Rafe shot Kelce a steely warning look he’d given him a thousand times.

“I’m just saying, you don’t need to worry,” Kelce explained. “You’re the man.”

Kelce was an idiot, and he spent a good ninety percent of their friendship pissing Rafe off, but he always tried to hype Rafe up. Usually he was annoyed by it, but right now, he actually needed it.

You used to talk about him that way, too. Oh, the money he would pay for you to see him in a good light again. He’d swim across this entire bay just to hear one kind word about him coming from your lips. 

“Nah, I’m really not,” he shook his head slightly, looking back toward you. “But I think with her I could be.”

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The audacity, the fucking nerve of him to come strolling down the dock looking that good. The sun actually broke through the crowds at his arrival, like he’d bribed the gods. He strolled towards you so casually, his grin easy, like he didn’t know he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in real life. It pissed you off.

“What are you doing here?” You snapped at him when he reached you.

His grin faltered, like he was the one surprised to see you.

“Didn’t Topper tell you I was coming?” He asked.

“No, of course he didn’t,” you said, finally understanding the reason for Topper’s strangeness earlier.

“I asked him to,” Rafe swore. “I didn’t want to make you think I was trying to-”

“I think I’m just gonna go alone,” you cut him off, turning the key in the engine of the jet ski, desperate to put an ocean between you and him before he said another considerate thing that he’d just undo later. “You can rent your own.”

“No can do,” said the owner, arriving to hand Rafe a lifejacket. “This is our last one. You better take your boyfriend with you, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at the situation and the misogynistic comment. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mumbled. 

Rafe felt the correction was unnecessary, but you didn’t seem to be in the mood for constructive feedback at the moment.

“Is it cool if I, uh, can I come with you?” He wasn’t walking back down this dock without trying.

“Fine,” you agreed reluctantly. “But I’m driving.”

“Good with me,” he climbed on quickly before you could change your mind.

With a kick that sent you both lurching forward, the jet ski roared as you tightened your hand on the throttle. Instinctually, Rafe’s hands landed on your side, holding you both in place. You only had a second to feel the pads of his fingers clinging to the soft skin of your waist before he pulled them away.

“Shit, sorry,” he said.

The guy on the dock leaned forward to push the jet ski from the dock, redirecting you out toward the bay.

“No, actually you should hold on,” he instructed. “These babies go fast and it’s a little choppy out there today. Take it real easy out of the marina and then you can kick it up when you’re in open water.”

You could feel Rafe’s hands twitch with hesitancy before they rested on your sides again, so lightly you wondered if he was actually touching you at all.

With a push, you drifted out to sea, slowly picking up speed with the turn of the throttle.

“Do you want me to let go?” He asked, leaning in so you could hear him over the roar of the motor.

Somehow, you thought two completely conflicting thoughts at the exact same time:

Yes, now.

and

No, never.

You settled on, “whatever.”

Rafe started to let go, but the jet ski hit the wake of a nearby boat, and you both nearly flew off the seat. His grip tightened protectively, practically pinning your body down. With his strong hands on you so firmly, it felt like you could hit a tidal wave and he’d still have you in his grasp. You needed more of whatever that was.

Your laughter filled the salty air as you purposefully drove you and Rafe over the choppiest patches of the water, hair whipping behind you into his face, and he didn’t even care. He watched you in the side view mirror on the front of the jet ski, memorizing every inch of your smile like he’d never see it again.

“Jesus, are you trying to kill us?” He teased, yelling over the woosh of the wind.

“It’d be a fun way to go!” You yelled back, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

Rafe’s hands still on your waist, you felt him lean in slightly. Even with two lifejackets between you, the proximity of your bodies was electrifying. You could feel his strong thighs on either side of your hips, closing you in everytime you hit a bump, securing you in place. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose or if it was just his instinct, you didn’t know which was hotter.

The water rushed behind you, a foamy wake marking your path as you continued driving as fast as you could. The others must’ve gone a different way out of the marina, because they were nowhere in sight. The sky was darkening slightly, the shift in weather causing most boats to drive the opposite way, back to the docks. But you just kept going, and Rafe didn’t tell you to turn around, both drunk on the adrenaline of the speed and the feeling of each other’s skin.

After a particularly jostling bump, the engine sputtered slightly.

“Fuck, what was that?” You puzzled, turning the throttle harder but gaining no speed.

“Here, you gotta twist it like this,” Rafe’s arms wrapped around you, his hands covering yours as he guided you to turn the throttle in the exact way you just were.

“That’s exactly what I was doing,” you bickered. “It’s not working.”

“Maybe I should drive?”

“It’s not my driving, something’s wrong with the jet ski,” you argued, swatting his hands away. 

“Can you just let me try?” He argued back.

“No, you’re making it worse!” 

The engine continued to sputter until it cut completely, causing both your bodies to lunge forward as it came to an abrupt halt.

“Rafe what did you do?” You accused him.

“What did I do? You wouldn’t even let me touch it!” He snapped.

You turned the key in the ignition over and over. The jet ski growled a few times but never started back up. Eventually, you gave up with a frustrated huff.

“I think we’re out of gas,” you conceded.

“Well, did you ask the guy if it was filled before you left?” Rafe questioned.

“Oh, so now this is my fault?” You craned your neck to see him, anger in your eyes.

“No, that’s not-”

“I’m so tired of this, Rafe.”

“We’ve only been out here for like a minute.”

“No, not this,” you motioned toward the water, “this,” you motioned between you and him.

“Oh. Me?” He tried and failed to hide his hurt feelings.

“Not you, just, all this back and forth. One second we’re having a good time and the next you’re pulling away or snapping at me. I have fucking whiplash.”

“Are you sure it’s not just from the jet ski?” He attempted a joke, it only half worked.

“How are we gonna get back?” You redirected the conversation before he could see you were smirking.

“A boat will come by,” he said confidently. “We’ll be fine.”

No boats came by in the following minute, or the following five. You sat in tense silence, your previous words still hanging between you. Your head hurt from the wind and trying to figure this man out.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, almost inaudible. “I know I’m…difficult.”

You turned your neck, not quite far enough to see him, but enough to let him know you were listening, that he should go on.

“I don’t know how to act around you,” he admitted. “One second I feel like I’ve fucked it up so bad that there’s not even a point in trying to fix it and the next…”

This time, you do turn, twisting your torso so you could look him intently in the eyes, imploring him to say something right for once, begging him not to let you fall off this cliff alone again.

“…you look at me like that,” he almost whispered. “And then I think fuck it, I’d try forever if you let me.”

For the first time ever, he was with you on the way down, finally jumping together.

“Can I?” He asked, voice low.

“Can you what?” you blinked at him slowly, the moment so surreal you worried it wasn’t happening, that you’d wake up in Carter’s bed, all of this day just one long fever dream.

“Fix things…with you?”

“I don’t know.”

It was the most honest answer you could give him.

“Can I try?” His voice broke slightly when he said it, and you could feel the vulnerability leaking through the cracks.

“Yeah,” you gave in.

“I miss you,” he breathed, and your heart felt heavy with longing and resentment at the same time.

“I don’t think you ever really knew me, Rafe,” you said, turning to face forward again, sad eyes scanning the horizon. “You never paid close enough attention.”

He thought over your words, and you could feel that there was something brewing in his mind, a decision he was making. When he finally spoke again, it wasn’t the words you expected.

“What’s your favorite color?”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you said, “huh?”

“Just tell me,” he smiled back, even though you weren’t looking, you could hear it in his voice.

You answered him, and he followed that question up with another, and another, and they kept rolling off his tongue and you kept answering, until the strangeness of it faded and the two of you were just talking.

For over an hour, you drifted, leaning forward on the handlebars with your back to him as Rafe asked you questions and listened intently to your long, detailed answers. You were hesitant, just at first. No one had ever let you talk this long without interrupting you. No one had ever wanted so badly to hear what you had to say. He nodded along to everything, responding with thoughtful mhms and carefully worded follow up questions.

After a while, you forgot about the surrealness of it all, where you were, who you were with. It was just you and your old friend, sharing your lives with each other. 

I could do this for a long time, you thought, like maybe forever.

Everytime you thought he must be bored by now, he just kept asking, hanging on every word like he was collecting them for some secret project.

“What do you want to do after you graduate?” and “Who’s your closest friend?” and “Are you still into that one band?” and eventually, when he was running low on ideas, “what’s the last movie you saw?”

You laughed. 

“What?” He asked with a timidness that squeezed your heart.

“The last movie I saw was the last movie you saw,” you reminded him.

“Oh, right,” he chuckled, but there was an edge to it.

“It’s a good movie, though,” you leaned back toward him a little, trying to pull him from whatever thoughts were causing his spirit to fall. “My favorite.”

He nodded, “Tom did a nice job putting together that little shindig.”

“I guess so,” you said, not sure how to proceed.

“You know he plays football for U of F?” He said. “Or did I guess, before he graduated.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, he was All American,” he nodded. You’d give all the money you had for one glimpse of what was going on in his head.

“He’s an impressive guy,” he admitted. “I can see why you’d end up in his room.”

“Rafe, oh my god,” you huffed, standing suddenly. Your body rose above him, his eyes tracking every movement. You swung your leg over the seat, flipping around so you were facing him, sitting back down so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I didn’t sleep in Tom’s room.”

“Oh.”

It was all he could muster up, his throat going dry from both the embarrassment he felt for being wrong and the sudden proximity of your bodies. He willed himself not to let his eyes travel down to the way your lifejacket was pushing your chest together, or the soft skin of your bare thighs, now spread open in front of him as you straddled the seat. He kept his eyes on yours, the most respectful option, though it didn’t help his speechlessness. The uninterrupted contact with your beautiful irises nearly put him over the edge. He almost hoped no boats would come by after all so he could look into your eyes for hours.

“Is that why you got up and left last night?” You questioned, not missing the way his eyes were trained intensely on yours.

“The floor was uncomfortable,” he mumbled.

“The floor,” you nodded, “the floor was uncomfortable. Got it.”

“You're mad at me again,” he surmised.

“When was I ever not mad at you?” 

“I dunno,” he shrugged sarcastically, “somewhere between the movie and your panties hitting the floor.”

You wanted to slap him. And kiss him. He could tell, teasing you with a sideways smirk. You tried to channel the newfound confidence you’d had last night, addicted to the taste of power.

You leaned forward, hands on the leather seat between you, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

“Did you like that?” 

“You know I did.” 

He responded so fast and his voice was so low you couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or turned on. Either way, he wasn’t fucking around anymore.

“Then why didn’t you stay?” 

It felt like that one question held so many questions, and based on the look on his face, you knew he could hear it too. You weren’t just asking about last night, you weren’t just asking why he went to sleep on the couch. You were asking about years of him coming up short, why he’d failed you so many times, why he never, ever seemed to pick you.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

As he said it, the wind kicked up, and the jet ski began to rock even harder as waves rose and fell beneath you. One particularly choppy wave had you tilting a little too far off the seat, and Rafe’s hands landed on your waist again. This time, there was nothing hesitant about it. When you didn’t push him away, his thumb brushed an experimental circle into your skin.

“Do you want me to let go?”

In lieu of answering, your hands came to rest over his. He assumed you were gonna pull them off of you, and for a moment you thought you might too, but then his words echoed in your mind: he didn’t know you wanted him to.

You could do this. You could lean into it and just let it happen. You were supposed to fight it, make him grovel more, make him pay you back for the years you’d waited. It’s what everyone expected. You were only a few hundred yards off shore, but the rest of the world felt lightyears away, and out here, there was nothing stopping you letting him touch you, kiss you, have you. You could just let it happen, and no one would have to know.

But before you could decide if you wanted to, a deep rumble of thunder broke out across the sky.

“Shit,” you jumped. 

“We gotta get out of here,” Rafe looked up at the darkening sky nervously.

“But how?” 

“How well can you swim?”

That’s how Rafe ended up in the water, gripping the back of the jet ski as the waves rocked it harshly, water splashing up and landing on your feet. You tightened your lifejacket, feeling apprehensive about the whole thing.

“I can just push us if you want to stay on,” Rafe offered.

“No, it’ll go faster if it’s both of us.”

You stepped to the edge, hesitating, wanting to rip the bandaid and just jump in but not wanting to jump too far off and get separated. Your indecision cost you, your foot slipped and you dropped into the water, your leg scraping against the edge of the jet ski as you fell. 

Blinded by pain, you reached for Rafe as your head slipped under the surface, but your hands came up empty.

(Chapter 6: part one)

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a/n: please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

[enby-newt]

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