#also i encourage you going off i dont mind the rage

[clockworkcheetah]

not me coming here with an analysis on the 2x07 brotzly arguement that nobody wants. this kinda fell into me going and aNOTHER THING, but i'll try and keep it vaguely coherent

also these are just interpretations/theorising- they're just ideas to chew on. obviously i'm coming to todds defense a little bit here (lbr he gets the most flack for a scene where i dont think anyones to blame) and at the end of the day its just a bit of fun innit

firstly and the main take here:

dirk did not want to be comforted right then and there. sounds a little odd, right? when you're upset you expect someone to hug you and tell you everything's fine. well... not always. especially when you're angry. especially when you're someone who needs time to process everything. he didn't want to be touched- throughout s2 he flinches away from todd (2x03) and he often uses something to shield himself- a cushion/the filing cabinet (2x03 and 2x04). he also distances himself from everyone when obviously upset. aka he wants space. the point is, todd picked up on that. he isnt gonna try and give dirk a comfort hug because how well would that go down, really? also i will point out in that scene todd never does try and touch dirk- when he notices dirk's upset, he kneels down close and speaks softly, but doesn't go further. it's similar to other times- close, but doesn't touch- dirk actually puts the distance between them. compared to how beast is with dirk, how BW treats dirk too, and how miserable he is the entire time with unwanted touching.

what todd normally does- and what seems to have worked before, is words of encouragement- they inspire him! except... he didnt want todd's words of encouragement or pep talks this time. at that point they would be just empty words, completely meaningless. he very clearly wasn't in the state of mind where any of that would've helped to me, i think dirk just really needed to vent and rage and eventually cool off and be in a better enough mental state to actually talk it through. but it's entirely possible even then he wouldn't wanna talk to todd- he clearly has a lot of self-blame to what has happened to him, even if todd doesnt blame him for that. and thats not todd's fault for not knowing that (todd not knowing will come up alot). hes not a mind reader, he has other priorities, and todd's own mental state isn't exactly great in s2, either. (another reason that occured to me why dirk might not talk to todd even afer he had time to process is the simple fact that todd was there. he spoke to francis and beast about the events of either the spring or cardenas case. hell! he even unloaded onto hobbs within knowing him a few hours. yet with todd, he doesn't... he could've told todd about the timeloop, the spring case, ect, but he knew todd was going to be there. maybe i'm reaching but its interesting- and falls back onto dirk keeps todd at arm's length (this will also come up alot). might make another post on that specifically)

so lets talk about todd now. a lot of flack he gets is that he shouldn't have left dirk, his words were harsh and his frustration came out of nowhere

i've already dived into the leaving thing (although he didn't abandon dirk. i kind of hate that narrative- he didn't tie dirk to a tree in the middle of the woods and drive off) dirk didn't want to go, wasn't in the state of mind to go and todd had a motivation to go. todd didnt force dirk to come with- even though he very much wanted him to- and dirk didn't force todd to stay. (and amanda at this point was still his main priority- was this a good priority? no! his arc was learning to let her go. dirk wasn't todd's main focus throughout s2 and this isn't a revelation. dirk still mattered- todd didn't stop caring for dirk just because he went off on his own.) and yes maybe he should've indicated he was coming back more clearly, because like todd, dirk isn't a mind reader either (but i'll come back to the communication thing)

todd's words were harsh. they were, i'm not pretending they weren't and they're supposed to be, because the brotzmans tend to be harsh when angry. i'm not justifying, but i can think of reasons: 1. self-projection. pretty much all of todd's really angry moments (directed at patrick and dirk in 1x07 and also suzie in 2x10) you can tell he's talking about himself at the core of it. with 2x07, i'll admit this falls into fanon speculation, but this line: 'Friendship isn't just about someone being there for you. It about you being there for them too.' there's weight there. there's no way this was just said on a whim, imo. todd is friendless at the start of the show, and yeah his selfish choices fucked them all up- but i think people tried to be there for him, and he pushed them all away (and probably hates himself for that.) I don't think dirk's being selfish, but todd had a point in indicating people have been trying to help and dirk wasn't accepting it. from the audience's pov yeah, we know why. todd's pov? he's given speeches, coaxed dirk into talking to him, or to engage with the case (dirk's indicated plenty of times he's a detective and wants to do cases). he is trying in the friendship, but dirk keeps him at arms length. for todd this would eventually become frustrating. (once again, i'll come back to this) 2. the blackwing line. hoo boy. 'I'm sorry they didn't teach you that at Blackwing' like i said, i doubt this was suppose to be favourable to todd here. but, a thing to consider: he doesn't know how bad blackwing is. '"Blackwing," it's a defunct CIA program that's after Dirk.' (1x06) 'Well, they don't exactly let us just wander around the halls' (2x02) 'I was in a government prison for psychics.' (2x02) todd was def given a watered down version of BW. todd wouldn't have known dirk was small in there- he says he hasnt seen mona in 15 years, we dont know dirk's exact age, probably early-mid 30s, though. todd is likely imagining dirk to be late teens-early 20s- and no context to how long he was in there the first time. another thing is, dirk talks about BW in a particular way- with humour, he downplays the trauma, and plays up that ~he was in a psychic prison~ to impress people. so in todd's pov, BW almost sounds like a very strict school (like how teens describe school as a prison). of course dirk doesn't- and shouldn't- have to traumadump anything, but todd has a specific idea of BW that he's been holding to for two months with no corrections to it and no real context provided. to add to that, todd is woefully optimistic. all throughout s2 he was desperately holding onto hope for things to be what they were. at the end of s1 he seemed ok(ish) with letting amanda go, then he got her phonecall and he spiralled- to a near delusional degree, basically in denial with the idea things can never go back to what he wants- until amanda tells him that is reality. self-improvement isn't smooth and linear, so him reverting isn't too shocking nor is it ooc of him. he needed to be called out and he was.

his frustration came out of nowhere. no it didn't. won't lie i'm not entirely sure how to word this one without being really blunt, but it very much was building up, dirk wasn't making it easy. ultimately i think there was some compassion fatigue- he had been trying to motivate and encourage dirk throughout s2- this wasn't a one-off time, at some point it was going to wear thin. todd has finite patience- but he did try. not to mention, todd never got openly angry with dirk in that scene, he stays relatively calm. the only time the frustration really came out was at the end, when he realised dirk wasn't coming with. also the whole yet again, dirk keeping todd at a distance thing. eventually that distrust is also going to wear todd out.

next thing, priest. todd's not stupid i mean he is but sometimes he's smart he would've picked up that priest did something to dirk- nobody knows what specifically, but there's obviously something. the only info we get (from todd's pov) is:

'-that man, Mr. Priest, I've met him before, Todd. He kills people.'

couple things to take from this: - 'i've met him before' suggests they didn't interact all that often- it sounds like they met once and a lot can happen in one meeting, of course. could be dirk downplaying his trauma again, pretending priest wasn't his childhood monster, or that he's in denial that priest did something really bad to him. but we don't know! todd isn't going to know that either - the 'he kills people' line doesn't really hold much weight for todd. how many people does he know who kill people? quite a lot at this point. priest is just another guy on the long list of guys who kill people- he doesn't know much more than that.

something else i picked up on is this scene parallels quite well with 1x01. aka dirk givig a motivational speech and todd responds with: 'No. You know what, no, I don't want to hear all that from you right now.' whilst dirk never directly says he doesn't want to hear what todd had to say in 2x07, it certainly read like he didn't want to. maybe todd recognised that (the whole self-projection thing) and decided to back-off. yeah, he was bitchy about it, but giving breathing room isn't bad and honestly? seemed like the smartest move in the heat of the moment- the whole dirk wants space when upset. not too mention, todd 100% knew what dirk was doing- pushing people away, trying to make todd hate him- see him as a bad person who hurts people, because todd does the same thing. tbh that's probably why todd got bitchy with his response- he likely saw through it and the brotzmans when they sense shit aren't gonna be that soft in their replies

i think that's all the main things i noticed about that scene. but i have a few smaller ones that link back to previous points:

dirk is dismissive, keeping todd at arm's length- he is in s1 (brushing away todd's questions) and moreso in s2 (the wet circles, not wanting todd to be in the house within a house with him,ect). the constant dismissal is going to start becoming discouraging. how is todd supposed to help someone who wants help but also doesn't want help? plus todd wants to help dirk! finding amanda is his main priority, yes. but he is down to be his assistant

todd knows dirk cares for him- doesn't know just how much- but being told that to dirk 'he's just a guy whose life he ruined' we can 1. add a big old dose of guilt on todd's end, and 2. that probably feels like a slap to the face, even if todd likely knows dirk did that on purpose. (also a smaller detail, that admittedly might be reaching a bit, during dirk's rant he mentions that '-And then I end up alone!' despite the fact todd hadn't actually left yet, hadn't given any indication that he has given up on dirk. but it reads as dirk rejecting todd already)

they don't actually know eachother that well. one week, then a two month gap, then s2 was around a week long. they absolutely haven't worked their footing out yet.

to add to that- their communication sucks. especially dirk tbh. he probably was keeping todd at arm's length in a misguided way of protecting him. and tbh i don't think dirk was ready to let todd in yet. this is nobody's fault- todd wanting to be let in, and dirk shutting him out. this could be a sperate post but i think the 2x08 rescue, and the 'don't spin out' in 2x09 was dirk finally letting todd in.

self-recognition through the other. or todd seeing himself in dirk (but not in the sexy way) the way dirk was talking, even the words he was saying, his attitude, his anger... todd's been there. and who does todd hate most of all?

todd put all his faith in dirk. granted, this is todd's own undoing and nothing dirk could've done. but dirk quitting being a detective maybe have been a reason why todd got mean. at this point todd's got no money, no job, no home, no purpose. dirk gave him a purpose that he threw away right in front of him. however, to consider- todd didn't lose faith in dirk. despite the anger and the words said, todd had total faith dirk will work it out. and he did. (this comes back to my thoughts on 2x08/2x09, so i won't delve into them here)

that's all i got for now. it's very easy to fall down a rabbit hole with this scene and these characters. and i can easily do a follow-up on this because i've def missed things. but this is getting so long. ultimately, i don't think either was in the right headspace in that scene- they had differing motivations. and neither was the villain for that.

tldr: messy situation between two messy people is messy on both ends

#theres so much else to say and analyse but this is getting long #dghda #dirk gently's holistic detective agency #todd brotzman #dirk gently #brotzly #gentlyman #dghda meta #dirk stans... promise youll be chill yeah? #im not slighting dirk but ive been in the fandom long enough to notice how dirks treated sometimes by his stans #i apologise if i come across blunt/mean but i am tired of the common narrative of this scene #dghda 2x07

[dotster001]

Twst for me pls also congrats on getting 1k!

I first chose Jade. He looked interesting. I kept him around for a bit but it always felt like he watching what he says more than a normal person.

When Leona came, I switched to him. Ever since I've had Leona on my screen. He doesn't use a filter and sees the world for how it is. Life really isn't fair. I could relate to him.

Its probably over between me and Jade. Leona already told me that its best not to trust people like Jade. I'm not going to go begging for a lost friendship or get myself in postion that I dont want to put myself in.

To a everyday person I am quiet, polite, and hard working. I dont mind helping out, it keeps me busy when I'm not taking a nap. I have dark sense of humor and pretty cyincal of the world. But I like to see it as seeing reality. Its simply life will never be fair. I like to plan things and enjoy studying battles from history and breaking them apart.

I'm laid back do whatever one you see fit. All I ask is for a happy ending.

Cat-lover Anon

(I hope you enjoy this, cat lover anon. I decided to take kind of a serious route with it, since you seem to be a more realistic person. Hopefully it's still good 😅 also, as a fellow nerd, I adore that you enjoy breaking battles down. I 100% want to see you and Leona face off in a chess match)

A Tale in Which Leona Looks out for a "Friend", and that Friendship becomes something more

CW:Toxic Jade, Jade slander (I'm sorry, I love Jade, but it's so easy to slander him 😂)

You weren't his. 

Leona hadn't been close to you at first. He didn't trust Jade, and as Jade's lover, he figured you'd probably be the same as he was.

That is, until the day you were napping in one of his napping spots, and you sarcastically suggested you both cuddle. Never one to turn down an extra source of heat/extra pillow during a nap, Leona had plopped down on the ground and slotted himself in your arms, while snarking back at you about how this was a one time thing. 

Three months into being daily nap buddies and you were the best of friends now. While he wanted to be more than a friend to you, he wasn't a home wrecker. You weren't his. And having so many things in his life not be his, he was okay with that. He may not trust Jade, and he was very vocal about it, but you seemed happy, so he wouldn't push the issue past a snarky comment here and there.

Until you were teaming up to infiltrate the fairy gala. Jade had dropped by to give you lunch as Leona was helping you tie some parts of your outfit. The look in Jade's eyes was murderous as he gave you his usual smile. 

"I did not realize you were someone to put your hands on another man's property, hosuewarden. I see I'll have to be more careful about my possessions." 

All he was doing was innocently helping you with an outfit. And now he was being accused of who the hell even knows what! But he was more pissed that Jade had outright referred to you as a possession.

Luckily for him, you seemed just as pissed about it.

"Jade! I am not a possession!"

"I know my dear, but…"

"Do you really know? Sevens, he was helping me with my outfit! Get a grip!"

Jade eyes glinted sharply, and he moved in closer to you.

"My darling, what if I were to tell you he was madly in love with you? I've let this go long enough, but you shouldn't see him anymore. I don't think it's safe for you."

And with that, you exploded. The yelling and rage, maybe for Leona's sake, maybe for your own, or maybe for the sake of just being tired of being fed bullshit, filled the room, to the point where it caught the other's attention, and they had to step in.

                                ….

Leona was a good friend. He helped you work through the break up. Helped you stand on your own two feet. Gave you encouragement and built you back up. All he wanted was for you to be happy. 

A couple months after the break up, you flopped into his nap spot next to him and snuggled in close. He was expecting this to be a regular nap session, and was starting to drift off, when he heard a quiet,

"Hey Leo?"

He grunted back in response.

"I don't think I've ever thanked you for being there for me whenever I need you."

"It's whatever, herbivore."

"No, it's not," you sat back up, and forced him to look into your determined face.

"I know how much energy it takes from you to do anything. And the fact that you are always there for me, always ready to tell things to me straight, means so much to me."

He attempted to roll over so that you wouldn't see how flustered he was getting, but you held him in place.

Although….he had to ask himself if maybe he really did want to have this conversation since he had more than enough strength to fight you off if he truly wanted to.

"Is there a point to this?"

"Yes," you said with a firm nod. "I don't know when it happened, but somehow I fell in love with you, you grumpy kitty cat. And even if you don't return the feelings, I think you should know that at least one person thinks you deserve to have a happy ending."

He laughed dryly. "You know I don't believe in those."

"I don't either. But…." You hesitated, "maybe we can find one together?"

You suddenly pulled away as though your own words shocked you. You pulled your knees to your chest and buried your face in them.

"Anyway, no pressure or anything. Just wanted to share."

Leona stared at you for a moment, then sighed heavily.

"If anyone can help me find a happy ending, I guess it would make sense that it would be some silly herbivore with bad taste in men."

You looked up and shot him a glare, but he simply smirked and cupped your cheek.

"Are you truly certain I'm someone you want?"

You nodded, unable to say anything as his soft eyes searched yours. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then threaded his fingers through yours.

"Alright then. Let's find a happily ever after."

#1k followers #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #leona kingscholar #twst leona

[winns-stuff]

And a third update - when hades finds out Persephone is 19, hecate is crying as she smacks him and she says Persephone is "just a baby" cause she thinks Hades might have touched her. Like her rage is off the charts and mind you hades has not spoken to Persephone Once (at least not after he carried her home drunk that one time and drove her home after) but claims hes in love with her. (Sir you dont know her). But then Hecate Immediately drops the subject oh how creepy that is to go onto to ask hades how it feels to be in love and daydreams about the underworld finally having a queen and saying shes proud of him?? Apparently she suggests Hades giving Persephone gifts. Hermes delivers flowers on hades behalf and hades almost kills reporter guy but takes his eye a "too late for sorry" and finds out Apollo applied to marry Persephone as well (but shed have to accept the marriage) and hera is trying to give hades time to "apply" for marrying Persephone.

Sorry for all the asks and my ranting!

Yeah, the way that Hades is so attached to Persephone without even really knowing her is worrying. This is what I like to call an unhealthy obsession, it goes beyond a normal crush and goes to a point where you feel like you can’t live without that person literally like the mere thought of them moving on or something would absolutely push you over the edge. Honestly when I was in middle school I had similar thinking over my friends and crushes even, thankfully it wasn’t this bad and actually it was pretty tame. But I’ve grown out of it and realized just how dangerous and terrible that sort of mindset is, it not only hurts you but others around you and I hate that LO is just uplifting this kind of behavior and showing nothing being wrong with it. Also, you’re completely fine with ranting or asking more than once I not only welcome it but also encourage it! These were very nice rants and reads and it’s made me realize more things so I appreciate you taking the time to write these.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo

[rhaenyras]

My mother recently started going to therapy. I’m really happy for her. She has always been in a financially controlling relationship with my dad which, at times, has been emotionally abusive. She’s really enjoying therapy and having quite a few realisations about her marriage, and I think she’s finally seeing how badly she has been treated. But she is also burdening me with all the gory details. I really want her to seek help and feel empowered, but as her child I find it hard to see the reality of my parents’ relationship.

While I suppose I have always been on my mum’s side and encouraged her to seek more independence and tell my dad to sod off, it is tough to hear the details. It makes my feelings towards my father feel complicated: even loving him feels like a betrayal. I want my mum to be able to talk about these things with friends (she has plenty of them) and her therapist, but am I being a bad daughter and perhaps even a bad feminist if I don’t want to know all the details of my dad’s poor behaviour ? Or am I being childish and should I accept this as part of being an adult, seeing your parents as the flawed people they are ?

to answer your questions plainly and simply.... no, of course. you're not a bad daughter, nor a bad feminist. if only you knew just how many times i found myself literally SCREAMING BEGGING PLEADING in my mother's face to keep the creepy unsettling details about her dealings with my father to herself because "HE'S STILL MY FATHER!!!! AND I DONT WANNA HEAR IT!!!". and not just when i was old enough to understand sex and grown up's shit, but when i was literally 13 or 14 lol. this one time in her rage and eagerness to make me hate my father, she even showed me a literal sex tape that she found hidden in his car when i was still underage. like. literally played it on tv in front of my sister and i and was like "SEE??? SEE WHAT SORT OF MAN HE IS???"🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️ let's just say you would need more than two hands to keep count of all these amenities that occurred during my adolescence when my mother was mentally unstable and sadly still unable to divorce my father for financial reasons. so i am very familiar with my mother's accusation and unforgivable guilt of loving my father in spite of who he is as a person.

it's totally natural to react like that, you know? we come into this world and we are raised to love both our parents equally. so learning that one of them used to be a creepy sneaky little freak surely creates a deafening cognitive dissonance in our brains that we don't know what to make of. we should be allowed to keep our heads buried in the sand if we want to, it's within our godgiven right. not to mention that most of that stuff could possibly even be triggering to you as it was for me. it's not just being in denial about someone's true nature or getting secondhand embarrassment like learning that your parents still have sex, it's so much worse than that, and it shouldn't be downplayed. talk this through with your mother and set some boundaries (i always failed with my own mother because she simply couldn't wrap her mind around the mere concept of boundaries + her unmedicated bipolar disorder). your mother has a therapist she can talk to without filters, but that therapist is not you. you're still involved and certain topics are too close for comfort to be tackled with you. as daughters we spare parents so many painful details and confessions for their sake, because we know they're too weak and frail to elaborate the whole unfiltered blatant truth of what was done to us. it's so damn unfair and cruel when they don't show the same mercy in return

#ask #anon #anonymous

[insufferable-talkstuck]

fo da classpecting

first things first I am incredibly lonely; come to think of it, my entire family is lonely. I was pretty isolated in my childhood, and no matter how I tried to talk to others, people eventually forgot I existed. I dont socialize with a lot of people now and i dont know how to. Same deal with my family, they think they have new friends in a new neighborhood and suddenly nobody is talking with them much anymore. In some instances its kind of funny when people forget that im there, and whenever I leave its like their short-term memory deletes me from their brain.

I was also a very very angry child. Im still angry but i repress it around people. One thing that really annoys me is when people assume im "pure" or "innocent" when i do not view myself like that at all. Its so goddamn weird when I do something and someone else is like "you're a little ray of sunshine!" no i am not. Stop acting like i am a baby. Im an angry and vengeful person who's become depressed enough to not have the energy to actively pursue my vengeance spree. I can only do it in my mind because of the no-energy thing, where im fucking shit up in a violently physical way. in my mind, they always deserve it.

I dont care about liars at all, however its a specific type of liar. if you lie to protect something other than yourself, thats fine. if you lie for malicious reasons i hope you get dropped off a cliff. I destroyed someone elses friendship on purpose because I lead them into exposing their own lie. It was me and 4 other people against the 1 person, and i put the idea of and encouraged/pushed the other 4 into essentially ostracizing the other person from the group. and yknow what? it was really fucking fun to do it. felt great.

Going back to the socialization thing, letting people know me is an awful feeling. I could tell someone online only my name and im already contemplating fake-deleting my account so i'll never have to talk to them again. I have been hurt repeatedly in the past by friendships and people ive trusted, so ive just adopted the principle that people cannot hurt me if they do not know me.

And not gonna lie, i do not expect to live long. im nearing the age i thought id die at and im slowly losing faith in the fact that i'll die by then, and i dont know what to do because that belief has been with me for most of my life. My whole life has just been "whats the point if im gonna die soon? why plan for anything?" and now i gotta start planning for shit because life doesnt work like that.

Prince of Time

princes are probably my favorite class, can you tell? the other classpect i thought about would be thief of space, im putting that out there if you think it's more fitting but let's get into prince of time

you say you're a very lonely person and have trouble socializing, the space bound are the designated lonely players—

—Time and Space are opposites, each one across of eachother in the aspect wheel and very different in themselves, when a player falls under a destructive class however they often neglect their own aspect and portray the opposing one ( Dirk being the prince of heart; having trouble expressing emotion, having "mind-control" like powers, destroying heart and soul.. all that. as well as Eridan the prince of hope; having outbursts of rage, destroying all hope within his session, deeming himself "hopeless" )

Time players are also associated with destruction and decay—do with that what you will i thought it should be stated considering your whole outlook on things

aand lastly the age concern, in hindsight it's extremely stupid to take a depressing attitude you have twords living and turn it into a reason for classpecting but that's what you're here for and I deliver. being a Prince of Time somebody who destroys time wouldn't be too uncharacteristic of an assumption to make about someone who doesn't think they have a lot of time left

๑ a prince of time would be extremely dangerous to have in a session and could very easily break the game, anyway, this was the best i could do go hit some clocks bye ๑

#classpect requests are always open btw‚ i find it weird when people say “i dont know if you still do classpects but—” i always do classpects #go nuts #homestuck #classpect #classpect assignment #classpects #prince of time

[thewhizzyhead]

You have every right to get pissed at American concert goers who aren’t masked and pretending like we’re not still in the middle of a global pandemic. I’m a fully vaccinated American who is on the brink of throwing hands with them. It’s irresponsible at absolute best. I could go off but I will spare you my rage. Anyway, it’s infuriating af and I can’t imagine how much worse it is to see this bs from your perspective.

- Patroc

yea like even if they're vaccinated, they can still pass the virus to other unvaccinated and more vulnerable people right? Like holy shit please have some empathy for those who can't get vaccinated yet aaaaa believe me it's like a slap in the face whenever first world country people flex that they can go to parties and concert and that "the pandemic is over!!" and stuff like that. like, that's basically a "fuck you" to those who aren't so fucking lucky.

#also i encourage you going off i dont mind the rage #heck i sympathize with it woo #like i saw that some of my fav mcyt people went to a party of 50+ people recently #without masks and shit #and like. what the fuck. #I wAS ROOTING FOR THEM COME ON NOW #it's just so so stressful especially for someone with a veeeery shitty government #and i can't emphasize the veeeerry shitty enough aaaa #sorry for the late response patroc fjdjd but thanks for this tho!!! #patroc! (rabbit holes!)

[kyufiber]

get f*cked  — lee hyunjae

member: hyunjae — tbz

tags: enemies to lovers <3, no actual smut (idk is a makeout scene smut?) but Very Suggestive™, various references to sex and Certain Kinks LMAOO bye

word count: 9.2k

a/n: i've been reading a lot of erotic novels lately LOL and well. i got inspired so <3 !! also a VERY special thanks to @cloudykyu​ who helped so so so much <3333 as well as @yeoldotcom​ @brururun​ @seoulbinz​ for encouraging me throughout <333 love u mamas <3

taglist: @stopitvpls​ @hyuckslytherin​ @vitaminhyunjin @kitymetal @notbeforelong @mavericsohn

playlist: kiss with a fist florence + the machine • choke i dont know how but they found me • boys like you tanerélle • two more minutes jaymes young • hurts like hell sølv • give up at 2 sofi de la torre • need you like that ezi • tempt my trouble bishop briggs • crave tove lo • loveyou dxvn. • bedroom eyes sølv • afraid of the dark ezi (full playlist here)

rage. there it was again. it always seemed to make an appearance when lee hyunjae was around.

your fists are balled up so tight that the skin stretched across your knuckles begins to turn white.

if looks could kill, hyunjae would've been dead a long time ago.

and there was his stupid fucking grin again. always playing on his lips, like he was having the time of his life pushing your buttons.

"alright, alright-!" the professor calls out, stepping between the two of you. "you're disrupting class, the both of you. sit down and be quiet, or you'll have a visit with the student office."

reluctantly, you tear your eyes away from hyunjae and march over to the other side of the classroom.

the professor makes his way back up to the front of the room and you take the few seconds his back is turned to shoot hyunjae one more glare.

he isn't looking though, and that pisses you off even more.

the class passes and you don't spare another glance in his direction so as to not ruin your mood any further.

finally, the clock hits 3:15, and you're free. a text beeps through on your phone offering that you join a couple friends at the chicken joint just outside campus. you need something to get your mind off he-who-will-not-be-named, and so you shoot back a quick text of agreement.

an hour later, you're well into your third drink and a 'i hate hyunjae' monologue.

"he's such an asshole," you grumble, snatching your drink away from seoyeon when she tries to confiscate it. "and i always get in trouble for it, because he pisses me off and i fly off the handle." a quick swig of your drink.

jiwon chuckles, a bit nervously. "y/n, maybe you should stop drinking."

"it's the only way i can better my mood after dealing with him," you whine, letting your head fall down onto the table with a thunk. your head shoots back up again suddenly, making hayoung jump. "i want some tteokbokki."

"no, y/n. we're going home. if you drink or eat anymore, you'll throw up all over the dorm, and i don't have the patience to deal with it tonight." seoyeon scolds you, looping an arm around your back. "c'mon guys, help."

"no~!" you groan, struggling a little against the three girls, but it's to no avail.

they manage to get you into a cab before piling in behind you, and your cheek rests on hayoung's shoulder. she pats your head lightly, and you snuggle up against her.

"i'm telling you all right now," you mumble. "if he tests me one more time, i'm gonna deck his ass."

"yeah, sure, y/n." jiwon responds, and you can imagine her rolling her eyes.

the ride back to the dorms is quiet, save for the occasional ding from seoyeon's phone, and your own quiet breaths.

the three girls had been your friends from the very first week of university. seoyeon had been your assigned roommate, and while at first, her abrasive attitude had put you off, you quickly realized that the two of you meshed far better than expected. she was the one who taught you to call others out on their bullshit, and you could always trust her to tell it to you straight. you'd met jiwon in an art club you'd signed up for. both of you were horrendously bad at painting, and you'd bonded over it. neither of you was still in the club, but the friendship had grown. and then, of course, there was hayoung. sweet, a little loud, and the voice of optimism in the group, you two had met at the freshmen orientation and had been close ever since.

the four of you naturally meshed into a little group, and the rest was history. you'd all lived together for two years now, and the dorm you shared was a hotspot of fond memories– though not without chaos.

with hayoung's gentle head pats, your eyes fluttered closed and you felt your awareness slip away, chased by sleep.

as the professor explains what a diphthong is, another sound reaches your ears and pries your attention from the lesson.

glancing around, you realize it's coming from hyunjae and the boy he sits next to — sunwoo, you think his name is. the two of them are whispering and laughing at some unknown joke. with a quiet sigh, you scribble a sloppy note on a piece of paper in your notebook.

please be quiet, trying to pay attention

you tear the sheet from your notebook and give it to a classmate, jerking your head at the two boys.

moments later, you feel a tap on your shoulder as the girl hands you the same piece of paper, only folded differently.

dont wanna

irritation pricks your chest like a thorn. civility never worked with him, but there was a test coming up and you really didn't want to interrupt class.

you send back a note, this one scrawled a little more sloppily, indicative of your declining patience.

if you aren't here to learn, go home

again, a tap on the shoulder. you unfold the note and roll your eyes so hard you nearly see your own skull.

i paid 2 b here :P

you glance up at the professor, checking to make sure he wasn't looking when you passed back another note. it's not like this was high school, but you can't imagine he'd be happy to have his students passing notes instead of taking them.

yeah same. except i paid to learn, not giggle in the back of class :)

awww r u jealous im not paying attention to u??

you want so badly to chuck the crumpled note right at his head, but instead, you take a deep breath and scribble a response.

can you just shut the hell up

whoops. hit a nerve there huh ;)

breathe, y/n. breathe. no need to lose it.

seriously? i'm trying to actually learn here

ok so stop replying then

you grit your teeth and crumple the paper into a ball, shoving it into your back pocket. you train your eyes on the front of the classroom, trying to pay attention, and then, there it is again. just within earshot, the sound of whispering and quiet laughter.

you slam your hand down the desk and jump to your feet, resulting in the chair clattering across the linoleum floor with a loud bang. "can you shut the fuck up?"

the classroom is dead silent, and you realize what you've done.

"excuse me?" the professor asks, gone still.

with your figurative tail tucked between your legs, you shrink back down into your seat sheepishly. "not you, sir." you murmur. "i was talking to hyunjae,"

the middle-aged man's eyes shift to hyunjae. "still... that's not a reason to interrupt class." he blinks as if he still can't believe what just happened. "and hyunjae... please stop distracting other students."

"sir, i don't even know what she's talking about." he pipes up, pouting. "i wasn't talking."

"well–"

"are you kidding?" you blurt out before you can stop yourself. "you were gabbing nonstop with him!"

sunwoo sinks into his seat a little, ears turning red.

what is going on with you today? it's like any semblance of a filter that you might've had is gone.

"i don't know what you're talking about," he shrugs nonchalantly. "it was probably someone else you heard."

it's less the fact that he was talking, now, and more the fact that he's denying it in front of everyone and making you look like an idiot.

"screw you, hyunjae." you spit.

why are you so angry? something about him just lights you up, and not in the good kind of way, but in the kind of way people go to jail for.

not that you'd ever do anything to warrant your arrest, but still.

"hey–" it's the professor, trying to interject.

"yeah, you want to?" hyunjae snickers.

you see red.

you snatch up your pencil case, winding back, ready to hurl it right at his face, when–

"alright! that's enough!" the professor booms, and you're torn from your rage trance. "both of you, out. you're grown adults; this is just– this is unacceptable."

it's then that you feel the full weight of everyone's eyes on you. you want to sink into the floor as you gather your things and stuff them into your backpack.

as you pass by your professor, he examines you with disappointed eyes. "you two, head to the guidance office. a counselor is going to have a word with you."

you bow your head, cheeks burning with shame, and exit the classroom.

as the two of you wait in the guidance office waiting room, you shoot hyunjae a deadly glare. "this is all your fault."

he raises an eyebrow. "i'm not the one who yelled in front of the whole class,"

before you can respond, a voice calls your names from a cracked door at the opposite end of the small room.

you've never been inside the guidance office before, as you'd had no reason to– until now. the office is home to several bookshelves chock full of books reaching several feet high, and various wall-hangings that you can't make out the words on.

the counselor sits behind a dark wood desk, with a nameplate that reveals this man's name as ryu kyungseok, the head counselor.

you want to sink into the floor, but instead, you just settle into the leather chair and press your knees together.

"good afternoon," mr. ryu smiles easily. "i heard about the incident in professor kim's class today."

taking advantage of the moment of silence, you shift forward. "sir, i am so, so sorry. i lost my temper, but it won't happen again, i swear."

he holds his hand up to silence me. his eyes are crinkled around the corners, etched with laugh lines. "unfortunately, this isn't the first report i've gotten about the two of you. every single professor that's taught a class with the two of you in it..." he shakes his head. "my point is, even if you believe what you're saying, i can't."

you press your palms against your thighs, cheeks flushed. this is humiliating.

"so, instead of reacting in a way that may hurt your record," he folds his fingers together. "i've come up with an alternative."

now, standing at the entrance to the storage room, horror is painted over your features. when he had said "alternative," this is not what you had pictured.

instead of a normal response, like, i don't know, moving one of you to a different class, they'd decided to put you in even closer proximity.

the library has a storage room, he'd gone on. right now it's a mess, and nobody has had time to clear it out. that's where the two of you come in.

the two of you had been tasked with clearing out the storage room and finding places for the likely thousands of books that had been dumped in here.

thousands was probably an understatement. every corner of the room is piled two thirds of the way to the ceiling with books. dread bubbles up in your chest.

you're fucked.

you're told by mr. ryu that you'll start library duty the next day at 4, as that's when both your classes are over for the day, and finish at 6.

that night, you complained to your friends about the situation and seoyeon had snarked that you shouldn't have blown up during class.

you had glowered at her and pouted like a child, but she was right– as usual.

you pick up a book and dust off the cover, releasing a plume of particles into the air, which causes you to sneeze violently.

hyunjae's head pops around the corner, one eyebrow raised. "i'd say 'bless you,' but i'm worried you might throw that book at my head."

"ha, ha." you sneer humorlessly and turn your eyes back to the stacks.

you briefly questioned counselor ryu's judgment. you'd been seconds away from chucking a pencil case at hyunjae's head the day before, and now he was letting the two of you alone with hundreds of books at your disposal?

amusement washes over you at the thought of smacking hyunjae in the head with a book.

"hey," his voice sounds right behind you, and you jump, dropping the book you were holding. his eyes skim over the piles. "is this as far as you've gotten?"

you instantly bristle. "excuse me? and how much have you done?"

his mouth quirks up, far too smug for your liking. "more than this. too busy thinking about me, huh?"

your eyes narrow. he's right, technically, but he doesn't ever need to know that. "as if. i'm just actually putting effort into doing it right."

his lips flatten in an almost-grimace. "uhuh. like when you were 'putting effort into actually learning'?" he adds air quotes, and you stare him down through your hair.

"yeah, exactly like that. notice how i was actually paying attention?" or trying to.

"right, all that furious note scribbling."

you slam a book down onto one of the piles and climb to your feet. "it's six. i'm leaving."

"it's actually only five fifty-five!" he calls after you, and you give him the finger.

later that night, you find yourself at the same table of the same chicken and beer joint as before. only this time, hayoung is missing, studying for a test.

you narrow your eyes at an empty soju bottle and your head lolls to the side. "'m gonna kill 'im," you slur, a heavy pout on your lips. you sloppily point to the bottle as if it's hyunjae. "stupid!"

jiwon sighs and rests her head in her hand in exasperation. "y/n, if you drink every time hyunjae upsets you, you're gonna go into liver failure before you graduate university."

you ignore her, raising your hand to ask for another bottle, but it's quickly stopped by seoyeon. "nope! you're done."

in what felt vaguely like a repeat of the other night, the two girls help you into a taxi and head home, but this time there's no hayoung patting your head. you pout again, like a small child.

as they're helping you through the dorm building's hallways, you catch sight of a familiar face and instantly your body goes into fight mode.

"you!" you hiss, struggling against seoyeon and jiwon's grips, which are desperately trying to hold you back.

you spit various profanities at the hyunjae hallucination before the girls can drag you inside the dorm room. once they do, all your energy seems to deflate and it doesn't take much effort to dump you in your bed.

snuggling under the cover, you finally let sleep take you.

the next morning, a dull throbbing plagues your head as you get ready for the day. you leave later than usual, having slept through your alarm, and this proves to be a grave mistake.

nothing is amiss as you leave your dorm and make your way down the nearest dining hall. it's not until you're proceeding down the breakfast buffet and feel someone standing a little too close, that you begin to realize something is wrong.

hyunjae stands next to you, empty-handed, leaning against the marble counter of the buffet. his mouth quirks up. "hangover?"

you blink, confused for a moment.

then you recall the previous night and it dawns on you that the "hallucination" was likely not a hallucination at all.

the blood drains from your face. you can't decide if you'd rather stand here frozen, hoping he'll go away or make a run for it.

before you can make a decision, he speaks again. "see you at the library later," he grins and walks off.

this is the probably thousandth time you've felt humiliated in the last week, and it's getting real old, real fast.

you snatch up a sausage link, ignoring the judgmental eyes of the person behind you, and keep moving down the line.

later that day, hyunjae is exactly 13 minutes late to library duty, and while normally you would make some snarky comment about his tardiness, you can barely look him in the eye.

"aw, she's shy." he snickers, pushing open the storage room door, and all you can manage is a quiet grumble.

the next two hours are just as bad as you expect them to be.

after a few precious (suspicious) minutes of silence, hyunjae holds up a book with his eyebrows innocently knitted together. "oh, look, y/n. i think you'll like this one."

you glance up, eyes skimming over the cover, and your mouth contorts into a grimace.

drink: the intimate relationship between women and alcohol. the bold black lettering mocks you in a way that's quite reminiscent of the person holding it.

"shut up," you mutter, and all he responds with is a smug chuckle.

he continues to make fun of you until you hurl a small paperback in his direction, and then he lets up a little.

during the last half-an-hour, the two of you push around carts full of organized books, placing them on the correct shelves.

hyunjae is nowhere to be seen – most likely on the other side of the library – and you're reaching up to a shelf that's just out of reach, when a hand appears above yours, snatches the book from your grip, and slips it onto the aforementioned shelf.

you turn and are met with an unfamiliar face.

"oh, um, thank you," you murmur, creating more distance between you and the stranger.

he half-smiles. "no problem. i'm eric."

you dip your head, an awkward smile stretched across your lips. "y/n."

"nice to meet you, y/n." he takes a step forward, and you eye him. "i hope this isn't too forward, but i noticed you a while ago and thought you were really cute." it is too forward. please back up. "could i get your number?"

is he objectively handsome? yes. are you interested? no.

you find yourself mildly annoyed that hyunjae has put you in a state where you're too preoccupied to be flattered that a guy is hitting on you.

"oh, um..." your eyes dart around, and you stiffly scratch behind your ear.

before you can think up a proper response, a familiar scent hits your nose. annoyance flares in your chest near-immediately, and it occurs to you that hyunjae has basically pavlov's dog-ed you. just the scent of him is like a mosquito, sticking a needle into your patience and draining it.

he leans over your shoulder, shooting what seems like a friendly grin at eric. "sorry, man. you're out of luck. she's got a boyfriend."

you nearly gape at hyunjae, but manage to keep it together, realizing it probably wouldn't be convincing if you looked shocked at the idea.

"a boyfriend?" eric blinks. "i could've sworn she was single. who is it?"

of all the things you might've predicted would happen next, what actually happens is not one of them.

hyunjae slips his hand into yours and intertwines your fingers, his grin becoming exponentially more smug. if you didn't know any better, you would've sworn your heart all-out stops.

"guess."

eric's eyes drop down to your interlaced fingers, disappointment painting his face. "oh. um, my bad. see you around," unlikely.

once eric rounds a corner, you rip your hand from hyunjae's and wipe it on your jeans. "i need to go wash my hands, now." you huff.

he blows air out his lips, stepping away to lean against a bookshelf. "i think a 'thank you' is in order?"

you shoot him an obviously fake smile. "i didn't ask for your help. and holding my hand was not necessary."

"i forgot how ungrateful you are." he squints. "or are you just trying to cover up the fact that you liked it?"

"hold on, hold on–" you hold your palm up to your mouth, feigning a queasy look. "i think i just threw up in my mouth a little."

he rolls his eyes, and your arms drop to your sides. "how do you even know i wasn't going give him my number?" you narrow your eyes. "you could've been doing more harm than good just now." that wasn't the case, but he didn't need to know that.

he scoffs. "please, y/n. don't you think i can read your body language by now?"

your eyebrows knit together in surprise. what?

"anyways, it's past six." he turns, heading towards the front of the library. "came to let you know you can go home."

after he rounds the corner of a bookshelf and disappears from your sightline, you stand for a moment, processing.

contrary to how you'd made it seem, you were thankful that he'd helped you. but you were never, ever going to say that out loud.

your eyes blink open, but the darkness in the room is so thick, you can't make out the ceiling. you rub your eye and sit up out of bed, the sound of muffled chatter reaching your eyes.

following the noise, you're led to the common room of your dorm's floor. settled into the couches are your roommates, along with several boys you've seen around– and hyunjae.

an exasperated sigh escapes your lips, and it catches the attention of the group. hyunjae shoots you a crinkly smile, and you roll your eyes.

"y/n!" hayoung chirps, motioning you over. you snuggle up next to her, stuffing your feet under her sweatpant-clad thighs.

"we were talking shit about you," jiwon jokes, and you throw a sofa cushion at her.

"no, actually we were talking about changmin's candy addiction." seoyeon declares. "he has like, thirty bags of that shit stored in his dorm room."

changmin – at least, who you assume is changmin – smiles good-naturedly and offers you a bag of various candies.

you shrug and take a lollipop. "can't blame him, honestly. there's a reason i had a ton of cavities in middle school."

a guy you recognize from your literature class, chanhee, shudders in his spot on the opposite couch, earning a chuckle from seoyeon. "oh, whatever, chanhee. we all know you've never had a cavity and are so much better than us."

he sticks out his tongue. "as long as we're on the same page."

hayoung suddenly studies the empty lollipop wrapper gripped in your palm. "wait, is that fruit punch flavor?" she whines. "that's my favorite! i couldn't find one in the bag..."

you laugh. "sorry~ i would give it to you, but i already licked it, so–"

"so?" hyunjae interjects, and everyone's heads swivel to look at him. you don't like the mischievous gleam in his eyes.

he reaches out, taking hold of your lollipop, and in one quick movement, he slips it between his lips.

your mouth falls open.

someone – you're not sure who, since you're gaping at hyunjae – lets out a quiet "ohhhh," and it's followed by a loud cackle.

"mm. tastes good." he sucks on it pointedly, eyes never leaving yours. "not sure if that's you or the lollipop, though."

and then he winks.

you shove him off the couch armrest, and he hits the ground with a painful thunk. he whines in pain, and the group bursts out in giggles as you rise to your feet.

"going to bed," you announce, biting down on the inside of your cheek.

"y/n~! don't leave!" hayoung whines, but you ignore her and march back to your dorm.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

you curse him to the depths of hell and back, your mind a stream of profanities all directed at lee hyunjae.

what was he playing at? he had a special talent, and that was that everything he did managed to make you look stupid.

you slam the door of your bedroom and settle into your desk chair with a huff.

asshole.

as much as you had dreaded library duty at first, shelving was actually quite relaxing. you didn't have to deal with you-know-who, and you could just withdraw into your own thoughts in the quiet of the library.

you turn the corner into a section in the furthest corner of the library, and stop dead in your tracks.

unable to pinpoint exactly what it was that would be causing the sound, you shuffle towards the source of the noise. what would be making a rhythmic thumping noise in the back of the library?

you peak your head around a bookshelf, and that's when you realize. oh.

face bright red, you whip your head back around and speed walk the other direction. scurrying around a corner, you slam into hyunjae – you know from that damn scent, like fresh laundry or some shit – and nearly fall over.

he steadies you with his hands and then examines your face quizzically. "what are you rushing around for? is the president coming?"

you press your lips together, face still flushed at what you just witnessed. "well– erm–"

"why are you so red?" he asks with a small laugh.

"there's a couple over there–" you jerk your thumb behind you. "doing things." you blush even harder.

his eyes glance behind you and you can see the moment he realizes what you mean when his lips press together, trying to hold back a laugh.

"you saw a couple getting it on?" his eyes twinkle.

you shove past him, glowering to hide your embarrassment. "yes, shut up."

"oh man, he cracks his neck, a grin hovering on his lips. "innocent little y/n. can't handle a little thrust action."

you furrow your brows indignantly. "i'm not innocent! i just wasn't expecting to see that... here."

"you aren't innocent?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow as he walks alongside you. "then why'd you lose it over a lollipop?"

you quail at the mention, hastily stuffing a book onto the shelf next to you. "i don't wanna talk about that."

"see what i mean?" he sighs, like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. "you're a baby."

"i'm not! i've done... stuff." you swallow, not looking at him as you push the cart forward.

"stuff?"

"hyunjae! i don't wanna talk about this!"

"i'm just saying," he says airily, and in your peripheral vision you see him shrug. "you said you weren't innocent, but you're all embarrassed talking about it."

"you're a real asshole, you know?"

your mind flashes to your most recent experience. it wasn't pleasant, and it lasted for no more than 30 seconds, and you regretted it as soon as it happened. you grimace at the memory.

"not good, huh?" he chuckles, his tone teasing. he continues, leaning forward and lowering his voice a little. "so it wasn't a spicy rendezvous in a dark corner of a library, then?"

"god, no, i wish." you blurt out, and then your face returns to the rosy shade of red it was just a minute before.

you quickly look over to assess his reaction, and his grin is awfully similar to one of the cheshire cat.

you push your cart forward a little faster than before. "you didn't hear that."

"sure, i didn't. gosh, y/n, i didn't take you for the kind of girl who was into that."

you slam a book into his chest, jerking your head at the shelf on the other side of him. "shut up, please."

he just laughs, and for the first time, the sound doesn't make you wanna punch him.

you don't realize you've forgotten about the school field day that's coming up until you're on your way to class one morning and notice that the athletic field – which is usually only occupied by the sports teams – is bustling with activity.

there are students darting to and fro like ants, carrying boxes and equipment you can't put a name to. on one end, several students are painting canvas posters with giant bubble letters. on the other, there are even more people setting up tables for who-knows-what.

"that's this week?" you mumble to yourself, and you jump when you get an unexpected answer.

"i know right? i totally would've forgotten, but my seatmate in astronomy is on the student council and she's been talking about it all week." jiwon smiles from beside you.

you return the expression and turn your eyes back to the organized chaos of the bleacher-enclosed field. "are you gonna compete in any of the games?"

"y/n, please. jesus. the last time i did a sport was high school, and it was colorguard."

you snort. "hey, i've seen the photos. those girls have serious muscles. don't shit on colorguard."

"anyways, no. i'll be happy on the sidelines cheering for younghoon."

you pouted. jiwon and younghoon had been dating since her first year of university, and as nice as that was, you were a little sulky that she was in a stable multi-year relationship while all you got was short flings that usually ended with you being ghosted.

"are you?" she asks.

you laugh. "i doubt it. i'm not super athletic, but i am competitive, and that wouldn't turn out well."

she chuckles along with you, nodding knowingly. "true, god. do you remember when we played monopoly?"

you fix her with a joking glare. "don't remind me. that was a dark time. seoyeon and i almost got divorced."

the week passes in a blur, both figuratively and quite literally. everyone seems to be busy with something, rushing around and getting ready for the field day. the previous years, you'd been back home during this time, so you hadn't witnessed the chaos of pre-field day before now.

library duty is suspended temporarily and a good chunk of students are missing from classes, both due to event prep, so you haven't seen hyunjae since the library incident.

you'd like to think you're enjoying the peace and quiet, but in actuality, you're restless.

it's probably just the energy from all the activity rubbing off, you tell yourself, but every time you walk into linguistics and a certain seat is empty, disappointment bubbles up in your chest.

ridiculous. are you looking for a fight or what?

the days before the big event, you find yourself walking slower than normal when you pass the sports stadium, eyes searching the span of the field for a familiar figure.

when the self-awareness hits, you scold yourself and speed up your pace, refusing to turn your head any direction other than forward until the bleachers are out of sight.

finally, friday arrives, and the sports stadium is filled with hundreds – if not thousands – of students wearing athletic clothes and big smiles. dozens of tables are set up just outside the bleachers with food, school merch, and various things to purchase. the grassy section inside the running lanes is littered with props for various minigames; plastic pools, batons, and cones.

the sound of someone's loud laughter hits your ears, distinctive amongst all the buzz and chatter, and you turn your head just as a spray of water hits you. you inhale sharply as the freezing cold water runs down your legs, dripping into your sneakers, and you try to blink the liquid out of your eyes.

"sunwoo, you asshole!" a familiar voice shouts, with an edge of laughter, and when you open your eyes, hyunjae is there.

his hair is soaking wet, curling in small ringlets and sticking to his skin, as is his sleeveless tie-dyed shirt. the grin so often playing on his lips is present.

"miss me?"

holy fuck.

"no," you scoff. "thanks for that, by the way."

"hey," he holds his hands up in a surrendering gesture, eyes crinkled. "that was sunwoo, not me. he probably wants revenge for being embarrassed in front of the whole class."

you squint, feigning annoyance. "by getting me wet?"

he winks suggestively, earning him a smack on the arm.

"ow!" he whines, cradling his arm.

"are you participating in anything?" you ask in a tone that (hopefully) says 'i don't care either way.'

"yeah, apple bobbing and the baton relay." he shoots you a boyish smile, pain forgotten. "are you gonna cheer for me?"

you scrunch your nose in distaste. "you wish."

just then, hyunjae's name is called by someone letting him know it's nearly his turn for apple bobbing. he shouts back an affirmative and then turns back to you.

"don't scream my name too loud." he starts to turn, and then turns back for a moment. "actually, i take that back." he shoots you a wink and is on his way with an obnoxious spring in his step.

you give him the finger, even though his back is turned, and seoyeon, who suddenly appears next to you, smacks it down.

you are not prepared for the apple bobbing contest.

sure, contestants need to be on their knees for this game. you get that. but hands tied behind their backs? to "prevent cheating," they say. or is it solely to drive you off the edge of sanity?

as time runs out, hyunjae's head emerges from the plastic pool, and he spits the apple gripped between his teeth onto the grass.

someone loosens his arm restraints, and he climbs to his feet, running a hand through his dark-brown, drenched hair and grinning at the crowd.

"goddamn," jiwon mumbles, but you know she's looking at younghoon.

even so, you choke out an "i know right."

the next time you see hyunjae, he is completely dry and wearing a shirt with actual sleeves, thank god.

he shakes his head to get the hair out of his face, reminding you of a dog, and shoots you a smile as the two of you make your way to the back of the library.

"don't forget to check all the dark corners," he teases. "that couple might be here again."

you roll your eyes. "god."

as the two of you pass the library office, the head librarian glances up. "oh, you two!" she calls. "head to the guidance office! counselor ryu wanted to see you."

the two of you exchange a look.

the whole way to the office, hyunjae is cracking jokes, and you can't help but laugh at his dumb antics.

"do you think mr. ryu knows we were having lewd affairs in the back of the library?" he feigns worry.

"will you shut up?" you huff, but you can't help a laugh from escaping your lips, and it only encourages him.

"you're not shy are you?" he inquires with an impish smile, just as the two of you arrive outside the office. he waves to the receptionist to let her know of your presence, and then continues. "i thought you liked that kind of thing. giving mixed signals here, y/n."

"you're such an idiot," you scoff, leaning your foot against the cinderblock wall behind you.

"your mom wasn't saying that last night," he quips with a self-satisfied smirk.

"my mom's dead." you deadpan. you're lying, of course. she's alive and probably watching tv in your parents' living room right about now.

"yeah, right. i overheard you talking about your mom like two weeks ago."

"worth a try," you respond airily, crossing your arms.

"y'know, funny enough, that's exactly what park eunyoung said to me last week when she was trying to convince me to sleep with her." he grins, and lightly kicks a loose rock with his foot as he takes a small step forward.

before you can think twice, the words are bubbling up from your throat. "hyunjae," you scoff. "you probably don't even know how to kiss a girl properly, much less fuck her."

oh, shit.

his expression changes and you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth.

he takes a calculated step forward, and then another until he's well invading your personal bubble. you try to take a step back, but there's only wall. you're trapped between a rock and a hard place, quite literally.

you study his face closely, watching for any familiar expression to latch onto, but you find nothing. his usual playful grin is gone; the mischievous gleam that typically dances around his pupils is nowhere to be found.

regret prickles in your chest. is he actually angry? you can't tell; his expression is so uncharacteristically stony, you don't have a clue what's going on behind those eyes.

"i wouldn't say that to me." he finally speaks.

"why not?" you mean for it to come out a sharp retort, but it's far more shaky than intended.

his gaze flicks down to your neck.

in your peripheral vision, you see his hand rise from his side, and then you feel it press against the sensitive skin of your neck. his fingers wrap around it, far too gently to have any real effect, but just enough to send a message: he could if he wanted.

you swallow against his palm, eyes locked on his face.

his head tilts slightly, and his eyes finally meet yours again, and it becomes just a little harder to breathe. "you wanna fuck around and find out?"

the words themselves might've come off as terrifying had the context been different, or if it had been anyone who'd said them. but it was him, and that was a different story altogether.

your stomach sears with heat, despite your desperate attempts to will the feeling away.

a glint of something familiar shines in his gaze, and his mouth quirks up at the corner. "you like that, huh?"

you don't like the flush that creeps across your cheeks; not at all. because he's right, and you absolutely hate that.

the receptionist calls for you both through the open door of the guidance office, shattering the trance you're trapped in, and you shove him away. "no," you snap, hoping your voice isn't shaky, and stride into the office.

the receptionist smiles politely and motions towards a familiar closed door across the room. "you can head on in."

mr. ryu is sitting behind his desk, just as he had been the last time you were here.

you clear your throat, shoving down the memory of what just occurred outside the office.

"hello again, y/n. hyunjae." he offers a friendly smile and adjusts his position in the chair. "how's the library work coming along?"

"just fine," you swallow. "we've made a lot of progress."

"good to hear. i was worried the two of you would fight so much you wouldn't get any work done." he chuckles. "are you getting along well?"

in the beat of silence before you can think up a proper answer, hyunjae interjects. "oh, for sure."

without thinking, you glance over at him, and back is that oh-so-familiar grin that often rests on his face. mr. ryu shifts his eyes somewhere for just a moment, and hyunjae takes the opportunity to send you a cheeky wink.

it takes everything in you to not leap out of the chair, but you settle for scowling at him instead.

shithead.

"well, i'm glad to hear it." mr. ryu speaks again. "i just wanted to check on how things were going, since it's been quiet lately. you're free to go now. thanks for coming in,"

as the two of you make your way outside, hyunjae reaches to open the door from behind you and brushes your arm in the process. you bite down on your cheek so hard you taste iron.

there's that scent again. it lingers around your head like a halo, invading your senses and almost making you dizzy.

where he went, that sweet fragrance always followed.

where is he, then?

ah. there he is.

you can hear his breathy gasps. you can see the beads of sweat dripping down his jaw.

flashes.

he's there, and then he's not.

you can feel hands ghosting across your bare skin; his mouth on your collarbones. his fingers on your neck.

oh, god.

they tighten around your throat, pressing against the skin just under below your jaw.

oh, god.

his name spills out of your mouth like a wellspring, pouring over the edge, more and more.

you want more.

hyunjae.

your eyes fly open.

your ceiling fan whirrs quietly, its breeze catching strands of your hair and making them flutter.

your pajamas are wet with sweat, and there's a throbbing between your legs that makes your cheeks burn.

despite trying to push the dream out of your mind, it sticks in your brain like a parasite. someone mentions doing their laundry, and it pops into your head. there's a cartoon drawing of a bed in your textbook, and there the dream is again.

you accidentally snap a pencil in half when one of your classmates starts asking everyone what they had dreams about the night before, and wonder if the world is personally out to get you.

in the class you share with hyunjae, you've never sat so stiffly facing forward as you do today. you refuse to look at him, even in your peripheral vision, because you know exactly what will happen as soon you catch a glimpse of his face.

why hyunjae, of all people?

lost in thought, you don't notice that you've stabbed your pen into your notebook so hard that the ink is bleeding through the page, or the fact that class has ended.

"you okay, there?" a familiar voice asks, and you jump in your chair. hyunjae raises an eyebrow, laughing a little bit at your skittish behavior.

just as you expected, the moment your eyes land on his face, all you can think about is the dream, and your face begins to burn.

you look away, fearing that if you look at him too long, he'll be able to see right into your thoughts.

"mhm," you cough and gather your things, furiously shoving them into your backpack.

"y/n–" he starts, but you're already fleeing out the door to safety.

by the time four o'clock rolls around, you're confident you've steeled yourself for being alone with him for two hours. and then he pulls off his hoodie (and as a result half his shirt with it) and the last several hours of preparation go down the drain.

he glances over and your head snaps in the opposite direction, studying the cover of a random book so intently, you're convinced you can see its threads splitting as time passes.

"you're acting weird," he comments. "why are you acting weird?"

"i'm not acting weird," you respond, bite in your voice.

"you're definitely acting weird,"

"i'm not."

"you definitely are."

"no, i'm not!"

"is it something i did?"

you whirl around, a scowl on your face. "not everything is about you."

this definitely is, though.

he raises an eyebrow, and you try your best to ignore him.

after a long while of silence, you withdraw into your own thoughts and relax a bit. absentmindedly, your gaze flutters up and catches on his hands, gripping the book cart.

you swallow, lips parting.

a book slips out of your hands, tumbling to the floor with a loud thunk, and you jump.

"have a headache. going home," you mumble, and rush out of the library without another word.

you don't dream about him that night.

you shove down the disappointment in your chest, trying to convince yourself that you absolutely do not want to dream about him again. but when your friends invite you out to go drinking with them, you decline so you can go to bed early.

when sleep finally overtakes you, your sleep is anything but dreamless. upon waking, that familiar sheen of sweat drips down your thighs, and you don't answer jiwon when she asks why you're stuffing your sheets in the washing machine so aggressively.

the evening following the second dream – which is somehow worse than the first – a dozen of you from your floor go to the dining hall together. jiwon and younghoon are cuddling on the opposite end of the table, seoyeon is fighting with chanhee about something, and hyunjae sits across from you, laughing with kevin.

you stab your fork into your food, eyes locked on his stupid, dumb, idiot face. how can he be so carefree and unaffected when you're losing your mind?

saerom, another girl on your floor, appears at the end of the table with a big smile and a tupperware full of cupcakes. "hey, guys! it's my birthday today, so i made some cupcakes! any takers?"

of course, being college students, there's a chorus of "me!"'s and she makes her rounds, making sure everyone gets a cupcake. when she arrives at your chair, you shake your head with a polite smile. your appetite is ruined by your inner turmoil, and you can barely finish your lunch.

hyunjae, tasting a stripe of frosting off of his cupcake, shakes his head. "y/n, just try one." he pesters, and then, when you glare at him, adds: "you're no fun."

something in you snaps.

you reach forward, taking hold of his wrist with your fingers and pulling his hand towards you. confusion knits his eyebrows together.

and then you lean forward, sucking a dollop of frosting off his fingers, and the confusion morphs into realization.

his mouth hangs open, and it registers that the entire table has gone silent.

"mm," you hum, wiping the corner of your lips with your thumb. "tastes good."

your mouth quirks up at the corner in triumph, having finally given hyunjae a taste of his own medicine.

he stares at you, dumbfounded, hand still frozen and extended.

he blinks. withdraws his arm. "come here." he says, with an odd tone of voice.

you don't move.

he presses his tongue against his inner cheek. "y/n, come here."

you lick your lips nervously, now slightly regretting having acted out. "no."

he makes a move to get out of his chair and you bolt. the table you're at is in the back of the large, windowed room, and you make a beeline for the closest exit.

catapulting out the door and into the balmy, night air outside, you slow down, thinking you're safe. until you hear the door slam open behind you, and catch sight of hyunjae right on your heels. when you try to make a run for it, his fingers reach out, grabbing a fistful of your hair and dragging you right back to him.

the involuntary noise that leaves your lips is unholy.

his eyebrows shoot up at the sound, and your face flushes beet red. while he's still caught off-guard, you kick his shin as hard as you can and sprint down the sidewalk.

when you reach your dorm, you slam the door behind you, even though you know it's unlikely he followed you. breathing hard and legs shaking a little from running so hard, you make your way to your bedroom.

you come to the conclusion that the only way to avoid any more humiliation involving lee hyunjae is to avoid him, and therefore make a promise to yourself to stay far, far away from him for as long as possible.

and that's exactly what you do. if you see even a hint of that familiar haircut or hear that characteristic laugh, you're dashing in the opposite direction. you move your seat across the room from him in every class and bolt as soon as class ends.

and then there's the issue of library duty. the first day, you get out of by helping hayoung's club with decorating their clubroom. the second, you insist you have a horrible migraine and that you need to go home. the third day, you're running out of reasons not to show up– until jacob.

on wednesday, jacob bae transfers into your linguistics class and sits right beside you, wearing a friendly smile.

"hi," he beams, holding out his hand. "i'm jacob."

"nice to meet you," you dip your head.

during a partnered activity, the two of you chatter and realize how much you have in common, like your disdain for pancakes, or how you prefer to eat your pizza folded in half.

"i actually know a really great pizza place like half-an-hour from campus," he starts excitedly. "do you want to go there after class?"

you calculate the math in your head; class ends at 3:15. if it takes 30 minutes to get there, and you'll likely spend at least an hour there, probably more, and then the ride back will take 30 minutes...

you'll miss library duty.

you grin. "sure!"

the next week goes by smoothly. jacob lives in the dorm building next to yours, so the two of you end up walking to class or meeting up between classes often.

anytime you see hyunjae and jacob isn't around, you run for it. if he is, you link your arm through his and urge him to walk faster, coming up with some excuse that you feel like walking at a quicker pace.

you're sure you've settled into a foolproof routine, until that next friday. 

do you consider yourself a good person? for the most part. unfortunately, you’re prone to making unwise decisions, and this is one of them.

you couldn’t do library duty, for god’s sake. close proximity to hyunjae for hours after your mortifying encounter the other night? you shudder at the thought. but then again, you needed those hours logged, and so the only solution you could think of that solved both issues was to forge them yourself. 

this is the reason you wait for the guidance office receptionist to head to lunch, and then you sneak into mr. ryu’s office, where the library duty attendance logs are kept.

you would need to be quick, otherwise you’d have a lot more than just library duty to worry about. 

you comb through mr. ryu’s desk drawers until you find one labelled with your name. just as you reach for it, a sudden voice makes you jump out of your skin.

“what are you doing?”

your head jerks up.

it’s hyunjae, and you honestly aren’t sure if that’s worse than it being a staff member. 

your brows furrow. “hyunjae, what the hell are you doing in here?” you hiss. 

“what are you doing in here?” he shoots back accusatorially, stepping further into the room.

you circle around the desk in an attempt to create more distance. “none of your business,” you snip.

“you’re trying to fake your library hours, aren’t you?” he sneers. “not happening. you’ll actually have to show up and face me.”

“just– leave me alone!”

“then leave the attendance records alone,”

you scowl at him, and he narrows his eyes right back.

the sound of the office door handle squeaking makes both of your heads whip around in panic.

“oh fuck, oh fuck–” you say, frantically looking around the room for somewhere to hide. 

at the last second, hyunjae drags you into a tiny closet on the far right side of the room, closing the door just as the office door opens. 

his hand covers your mouth, and you squirm in an attempt to get it off, but it only tightens his hold on you. 

someone you assume is mr. ryu crosses the room to the desk, shuffling around papers as if looking for something. a moment later, his identity is confirmed when he answers a phone call. 

“good afternoon!” he greets the person on the other end of the phone enthusiastically, and hyunjae takes advantage of the noise. 

he puts his lips adjacent to your ears and drops his hand from your mouth. “why are you avoiding me?” he whispers, and you almost shiver. 

you can feel his chest against your back, the tight space forcing contact, and his breath fanning over your neck. 

you don’t move an inch, nor do you answer him. 

“... sorry, you’re breaking up! say that again?” ryu’s voice filters through the closet door. 

“y/n,” he breathes against your neck. “why are you avoiding me?”

“i’m not,” you manage to choke out, and you hear a quiet scoff.

“bullshit. you’ve skipped library duty for a week, and you run every time you see me.”

“will you shut up?” you hiss lowly. 

“... no, i think it’s me!” there’s mr. ryu again, his voice almost a shout. “my office hasn’t been getting signal lately–!”

hyunjae’s arm wraps around the side of you, fingers taking a gentle hold of your jaw. “is it because you moaned when i touched you?”

your eyes widen.

ryu finally leaves the room, still shouting at his phone in an attempt to be heard, and shuts the door behind him. 

you shove hyunjae off of you, rocketing out of the closet like a rogue firework.

“stop it!” you grit your teeth, backing away. “that is not what happened!”

he steps closer, eyes squinting. “let’s take a stroll down memory lane, shall we? first, you bait me by licking frosting off my fingers–”

“shut up,”

“–and then, when you run away and i try and stop you–”

“hyunjae, i’m fucking warning you–”

“–you moan like you’re bent over my–”

you lurch forward, propelled by rage, and swing at him, except he catches your wrist before you can make contact. you try with your other arm, and he does the same thing, leaving both arms helpless and you at his mercy. 

you try to shrink back, but he refuses to give you any slack. 

“let me go,” you growl at him. 

his eyes narrow a little, and he forces you backward, still restraining your wrists, until your waist bumps against the front of ryu’s desk. 

“why? so you can hit me again and run away?” he jibes, leaning forward. “not gonna happen. you’re not getting away this time.” the last line is said in a low voice, and every nerve in your body lights on fire. 

“just admit it, y/n.”

“admit what?” you respond, trying to conjure any scraps of resistance left in you. 

“admit you want me.”

you tilt your chin up defiantly. “i don’t.”

“oh, yeah?” his eyebrows quirk. “we’ll see about that.”

and then, fuck, he’s kissing you. he lifts you up onto the mahogany desk, one hand holding his weight, the other pulling your waist into him. 

the kiss is furious, desperate, almost violent, as though if you don’t put your all into kissing him, the world will end right then and there. 

you groan softly, and he smirks into the kiss. 

“shut the fuck up,” you say breathily, the fabric of his sleeve bunching in your grip. 

he forces his knee between your legs, forcing them apart, and you respond with a sharp inhale. 

his tongue is in your mouth, and his hands are under your shirt, groping places that make you gasp, and it’s so, so good. 

“oh, god.” you whine, your breathing quick and labored. 

“not god,” hyunjae mumbles into your lips, like the little shit he is. “me,”

when hyunjae hauls you onto his lap in front of all your friends, eyebrows shoot up.

“you two..?” changmin asks, eyes shifting between you.

“you didn’t see that coming after that whole show in the dining hall?” seoyeon snickers.

“how did this—” jiwon motions between the two of you. “—even happen?”

hyunjae’s hand finds its way to your thigh, squeezing a little. “well, it started when y/n had a secret crush on me—”

you roll your eyes. “get fucked, hyunjae.”

“yeah, you did.” he grins, and you kick your heel against his leg as the group pipes up with a chorus of disgusted complaints.

he wasn’t wrong.

#hyunjae #lee hyunjae #lee jaehyun #tbz #the boyz #au #fanfic #tbz scenarios #hyunjae au #hyunjae scenarios #hyunjae imagines #hyunjae fanfic #suggestive #tbz au #tbz fanfic #the boyz au #the boyz fanfic #the boyz scenarios #tbz imagines #the boyz imagines #the boyz fic #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop au

[burnedbyshoto]

i wonder

i wonder (if you remember the way we looked at each other)

— Living as roommates with your best friend is easy until someone fucks up and catches feelings.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut fem!reader, and they were roommates, childhood friends!au, university!au, quirkless!au, modern!au, americanized university experience, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, the plot is for the sex AHA, womanizer!shouto, shouto and reader are bad roommates but seiji is worse, shouto has sex at 16 for the first time, vouyerism-ish, iffy shouto tendencies, jealous!shouto, jealous!reader, drunk sex so dubcon depending on you, nipplegasms, reader has nipple piercings, blowjob, switching, marking, biting, scratching, praise kink, missing tag ;)

word count: 20,141

a/n: this is for the roommates bnharem collab! please check out all the other amazing fics and art! note to self, dont get drunk the night before this is due and I hope you guys enjoy this!!! I had a lot of fun writing it!!! also,,, sorry if mobile doesn’t correctly format!

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You cracked your eyes open.

The gentle white stream of light permeated through soft cotton curtains, lighting the room in pale stripes and careful touches. Dust particles danced within the shining light, bending and twirling with the flowing air and moving winds. You breathed in deeply, your body still tired, your head still foggy from a night of distractions and too many drinks. 

Your eyes are closed once again, your still hazy mind trying to ignore the bitter, rank taste of the alcohol and cum on your tongue and your hands scratching as your naked cleavage. There was still enough time in the day; it was Sunday after—

Wait.

CUM?!

Your eyes flew open, your lips smacking each other as you confirm the awful, salty taste of cum on your tongue. Your hands swiping up and down your front to confirm your state of undress. Your heart starts hammering in your chest, your palms immediately sweating as you try to think about just who the fuck you ended up back in bed with.

Think, y/n, think!

A small grunt came from behind you, and you felt your entire body go rigid immediately. The soft expel of air fanning against your sticky neck is both welcomed and untrusted. With what can only be described as you, as stiff as a stick, peering behind your shoulder similar to a mother who definitely heard her child throw up on her bed but is somehow praying that she was hearing shit, you turned around.

A messy bedhead of red and white greeted you: unfocused, sleepy grey, and brilliant blue eyes staring back at you with fond familiarity and welcome.

“‘Morning, y/n,” Todoroki Shouto grumbles, voice husky, scratchy, deeply warm from his slumber. His next words are damning, though, the slight pride and knowing implications in the small breathe he uttered next. “Had fun last night?”

There was silence, a stroke of hesitancy, then crushing all-consuming fear.

You screamed.

At the top of your lungs.

O N E  W E E K  A N D  A  D A Y  E A R L I E R

“Who the fuck touched my fucking Angry Orchard Rosés?!” a voice snapped from the kitchen; the tone was fed up, seconds from blasting to smithereens.

You were in the living room, a pair of sweats on, your hair not put together, your face still bare. The music you played as part of your pregame ritual was practically vibrating the wooden floor as you sang along to your music. The telling glass bottle of deliciously pink alcohol swinging inconspicuously between your fingers as you drank it between verses. Despite your other roommate (who you repeatedly told your friends to be ‘like Bakugou but a gazillion times worse because you don’t and can’t like him,’) being seconds from trying to start another feud or possibly a lawsuit against you, your mouth dropped in mock shock before guzzling down the rest of the drink.

“I saw that you fucking skank!” Shishikura Seiji screeched from the kitchen; his stomps were long and heavy as he made his way from the kitchen to the living room where you were. “There were two bottles left in there! Don’t tell me your alcoholic ass drank them both! So help me, I’ll press on your damn chest until you’re puking out my drink.”

“Shishikura, stop,” Shouto spoke up, his own arm raising as he took a long, slow drink from the other missing rosé bottle. “These are 2% alcohol, you’ve had them in the fridge for months now, and you never drink them anyways.”

You grinned as you pulled the glass bottle from your lip, your face failing at the fake look of surprise, guilt, and sorrow for your unwanted and unneeded roommate.

“Sorry, they’re such girly drinks. I figured I’d take them off your hands,” you speak with distractingly bright amusement. “Alcoholics like me, we don’t care. Watch out; I might go for your mouth wash if you’re not too careful.”

“You do that, and I’ll poison you like a damn bitch,” Shishikura threatened, his voice in a menacing growl.

“Ooooo, you want me to bark for you, Shishikura? Want me on my hands and knees?” you taunt back, walking backward until you’re collapsing onto the couch besides Shouto. Your arm quickly sneaks between his, and you lay your head on his shoulder. Shishikura’s face is flushed red, his pupils beady as he trembles with concealed rage.

“She’s quite good at it,” Shouto chimes in, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smirk as he takes another drink of the weak liquor. He shifts on the couch, allowing you to curl more comfortably at his side; the both of you know just how much your incredibly prude roommate hates any sort of PDA. “Want to hear her bark? She’s also quite good with her tongue.”

As if to emphasize Shouto’s point, you stuck out your tongue, refusing to break eye contact with Shishikura as the tip of your tongue breached the opening of the bottle.

“The actual fuck is wrong with the both of you?!” Shishikura spluttered, his face somehow turning purple and green and red. A truly incredible sight to be had. “‘Childhood friends are great roommates to have’ my fucking ass, you both are monstrosities!”

Shishikura stormed out of the living room, his ears neon red as his purple hair fell to cover his face. As soon as he was out of sight, you turned to Shouto, your tongue removing itself from the bottle and back into your mouth as you began to laugh loudly.

Childhood friends to roommates, ah, what a remarkable story you had with Todoroki Shouto.

It was accurate to relay that you had known Shouto for more than seventeen years now at your current age of twenty-one. Seventeen years of being what is easily seen as the best of friends, the closest companions, and indeed a bond that would withstand time and situation. 

The two of you met during the first week of what was preschool. Although both of you could not remember a single instance of events during this time, your mothers had always been excited to relay this story to you for many years that you could remember. It was odd to try to remember it, but even as they painted a picture of your first interaction, you could do nothing but admit that it sounded exactly like how it could have gone. 

You couldn’t remember being four years old; you don’t recall what it was like to strain your neck to look up at your parents or how it felt to be so utterly dependent but to scream brazenly about your childish independence. Your mother smiles when she retells the story of your first interaction, of how you were holding her hand as she walked you to the building where your preschool was to be had. 

Your hand was so small in hers. Tightly clutching onto her fingers as you looked around at the other children who were also arriving or had already arrived. Some children were bawling by their parents, others aimlessly playing with toys, and some were attempting to talk to one another, but by the apparent looks of curiosity surrounding the babbling and rambling tangents that could only be understood by a firing toddler brain, everyone was getting along. 

A teacher greeted you kindly, squatting down to reach your eye level as they excitedly introduced themselves and asked for your name. You, of course, with your hands clutching the skirts of your mother’s dress, responded with hesitant confidence.

“You’re such a brave girl!” the teacher awed happily, stretching out a hand for you. “Is it okay if I take you from your mom and show you which cubby is yours?”

There was a moment of confusion, then clear understanding hovering over your little head. Your mom looked down with an encouraging smile and pushed you forward.

“Do I get a middle cubby? I don’t want a top one,” you admit, your hand stretching out to grab the teacher’s stretched-out hand. 

Your mother watched on happily as you removed your schoolbag and lunchpail and placed them neatly within the somehow middle cubby marked with your name. The teacher also helped you put on your white school slippers before gesturing towards the bright, colorful room, their mouth moving as if explaining every little detail before pointing at the corner. Your mother tilted her head, curious as she followed the teachers point to the corner of the room where a boy with exceptional red and white hair — split perfectly in the middle — sat quietly, with fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

(Shouto, although he can not remember this day himself, will argue with you and only you that he was, in fact, NOT crying.)

Trying to not allow the shock of the unnatural hair color affect her, your mother watched as you nodded to your new teacher and walked over with clenched fist confidence to the small boy.

She watched as you approached him, your jaw moving as you so obviously spoke, hopefully introducing yourself. The boy looked up at you with bright, wet eyes but seemed to speak right back to you. 

“Alright, parents! Thank you all for dropping off your children! Do not worry. We will take great care of them all, and they are in competent hands! First days are hard for everyone, so if you can exit quietly, I, and the rest of us teachers, would appreciate that greatly!”

Or at least that’s what Rei claimed the teacher said.  However, your mother was watching on with increasing exponential horror as she watched you throw a punch at the air before twisting around and pointing right at her and saying with a voice that was much too loud.

“Punch whoever made you cry, Shouto-chan! My mama says that it is okay to punch bullies!”

Thankfully no one but your mother heard you, and even though she scolded you on the way out, whisper yelling that you “better not punch anyone!” her relief was for naught.

When she would return in the afternoon, a bit late because there had been a hold up on the train, you were pouting sitting on the floor with a scuffled uniform, your arms crossed definitely. Next to you was the boy with red and white hair, equally scuffed next to a white-haired woman and an older white-haired boy.

“Oh my god, what happened?!” she shrieked, racing over to you.

“Y/l/n-san,” the teacher spoke with a tone that indicated disappointment with the subtle undertone of amusement. “Y/n-chan has something to tell you.”

Your mother had taught you many things, she will admit, in your very short life. But sass and annoyment was something not often seen in your household or in you, and to see it so blatantly on your chubby-cheeked face was quickly giving your mother greys.

“Shouto-chan told me that his stupid bully brother Touya was being a meanie, and so I helped him punch him back!” you said with tears in your eyes because you didn’t want to back down from your actions, but you also did not like being scolded. “I don’t regret it!”

“Y/n!”

“Y/n-chan!”

“I don’t either,” Shouto-chan grumbled as your mother collapsed to her knees and began to profusely apologize for you to the woman who was undoubtedly Shouto’s mother. “Touya-nii was making fun of my hair again… y/n-chan helped me, though. Please don’t scold her!”

To say the most in the shortest amount of time, you were, in fact, scolded despite Shouto’s begging. Touya stopped making fun of Shouto’s natural hair. Rei accepted your mother’s apology. The teachers were given two bottles of sake.

And, of course, the most important, the most paramount thing to arise from this first day of school was that your and Todoroki Shouto’s friendship was now bound by blood, sweat, and tears.

Preschool became elementary school, which became middle school, and fading into highschool.

It was without saying that your relationship, your friendship with Todoroki Shouto, was probably one of the biggest, most defining parts of your entire life. He was there when your first tooth fell out, when he dropped ice cubes down people’s shirts, you two had bathed together when you were young, had sleepovers well past the age where him being a boy and you being a girl should have made things weird. You laughed when his voice cracked and dropped, he elbowed your chest plenty when you began growing boobs, you taunted his lack of body hair, he bought you your favorite ice cream and heating packs on your first period. You attended cram school together, went to the park and beaches on days off from school. You were partners in every school activity except under specific circumstances. He had listened to you when you told him excitedly about your first kiss when you turned fourteen, and you laughed when he said at the age of fifteen that he had still yet to kiss anyone.

Everyone always claimed, always asked, wondered, and whispered if the two of you were dating. Childhood friends still this close and not dating? Unheard of; practically illegal! Nevertheless, you ignored the disappointed frowns or the hopeful grins as you and Shouto both denied any sort of romantic connection.

Soon the both of you were in high school, and Shouto was mere days from turning sixteen. Much like when the both of you were when you were four years old, you seemed to be the one spouting many words — sometimes unnecessary words that wound you both up in trouble — of wisdom. You were loud when you needed, talking most of the time only to him and your surprisingly large group of friends. (You weren’t that surprised. Everyone wanted to be friends with the handsome, could easily be royalty or a model, Todoroki Shouto.) Shouto remained, for better or worse, quiet, reserved, and a bit awkward. He was a sweet boy, don’t get it wrong, and you would protect him until the end of your days, but the boy was a complete airhead and relied on you for interpreting social interactions.

“Camie-senpai wants me to go over to her house after my birthday,” Shouto explains, his hands exchanging his school shoes for his outdoor ones. “Something about wanting to do that one second-year first-year student project thing for the third years right away.”

“You have Camie?” you ask, slumping against the metal lockers with a slight thud. “Lucky, she’s so nice… I have stupid Agoyamato. Have you had a conversation with him? It’s actually the worst! He thinks he’s all that!”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay; you’re nice enough that he won’t be like… that,” Shouto smiles, slinging his bag on his shoulders before nudging his head towards the exit. “Ready?”

“Am I ever ready?” you ask with a whine but nevertheless proceed onward.

Time passed, and between cram school, actual school, some clubs, eventually January 11th passed and you held an ice cream cake that Shouto loved. You ate the cake together, relaxing as you sat in the warmth of his kitchen.

“Happy birthday, Shoucchan, never change!” you chirp, shoving his arm that rose to place the piece of cake in his mouth with your shoulder and watched as the sweet pastry splattered on top of the table. “...um?”

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

“Only ten?! What about the happy birthday boy.”

“Oh, true. Three seconds to run.”

“Why?!”

“It’s my birthday.”

An hour later, when your stomach hurt from laughing too much and the sickly sweet weight of too much ice cream cake, you lay snuggled into Shouto’s side as the both of you watched some old movie.

“Thanks for always being here for me,” you mumble, eyes growing heavy as the heat of Shouto’s body began to lull you to sleep.

“I’m always here for you,” Shouto softly responded, hand gliding up and down the curve of your spine. “We should get you home. Your mom yelled and nearly skinned us both the last time you fell asleep here.”

“Only cuz she’s scared that we’ll have some sudden revelation we like each other and fuck each other’s brains out,” you groaned, absolutely not content with having to move. With your face buried in your hands now, you missed the weird pattern in Shouto’s chest over that.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“...fine, just because it’s your birthday.”

The next day, when Shouto followed Camie home instead of you, there was something that made you feel off as you waved at them goodbye. It wasn’t jealousy, that much you knew, but something worse when you watched the way your never-been-kissed-before best friend was ignorant to the dark eyes Camie sent his way.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure if you should be as surprised as you are when you get a phone call at ten p.m. to the sound of a confused, suppressed, overwhelmed voice of your best friend asking if you could confirm if Camie had fucked him. You then stayed on the phone for Shouto until well past two a.m., your heart hurting as he recounted the memory over and over again. You weren’t sure as to why your heart was breaking. By the sounds of it, Shouto had actually enjoyed it, but with every stammer to his voice, you felt lightyears away.

Most shockingly, however, was the effects this had on Shouto and his overall persona.

From ages four until fifteen, Todoroki Shouto was someone who was quiet, observant, took things a bit too literally, at all times was entirely precious in the way he interacted with people, and most importantly, unaware of the female population who lusted after him. It worked well for you because it was fun to tease him about things, nag him about how he was sixteen, and hadn’t been kissed even though if he asked any girl at school to kiss him, they definitely would. 

But sixteen-year-old Todoroki Shouto was a new shift, a new paradigm for you to learn. It wasn’t that he wasn’t confident before, but now he emitted a sense of confidence that he was aware of, that everyone was aware of. He became mature, sophisticated, styled even. He was still at times quiet, always completely observant. He rarely took things literally and understood rhetoric and sarcasm and hyperboles. Long gone were the days of preciousness, and instead, there was a sense of a predator on the hunt that bled in the way that he talked to people. Most importantly, however, he was fully aware of the female population and precisely who was lusting after him.

He flirted with women and girls. You would find him leaning against the lockers talking with them, somehow trapping them despite not actually trapping them. A new girl was sitting at your table with him practically every week in high school, each girl asking for the hundredth millionth time that the both of you were not dating. Some girls were even bold enough to apologize to you for stealing your best friend — as if you wanted Shouto.

You had already seen his dick, thank you very much (although the last time you saw it was well before you were nine years old), you weren’t missing out on how it probably looked now! Honestly, you had no idea how Shouto never managed to run out of female students to fuck, the school wasn’t that large, and he seemed to go through a few a week sometimes.

But he was your best friend, your childhood friend, and no matter how many girls came crawling back to your lunch table, bawling to Shouto to take him back, soaking the fabric of your skirt to help convince him to take her back, you stayed. You stayed, accepting the fact that your best friend had become an awkward teenage boy and turned into some high school sex freak.

You stayed when his shaggy hairstyle was clipped and became short.

Overnight, just as he went from being a complete virgin to not one, he went from a scrawny sixteen-year-old boy to a leanly built eighteen-year-old hot-ass heartthrob womanizer.

High school wasn’t forever. Even though it took you about a year to accept and integrate Shouto’s new sex life and behavior into your daily lifestyle with him (he always left four of the three days open for you as all his relationships were casual only). Soon enough, the both of you relaxed and found your own relationship to be entirely the same, and when university exams and applications came about, it was decided that yet again, the both of you would follow each other anywhere.

Which is where you were now.

Tokyo University,  a third-year student, living in an upscale three-person apartment with your best friend, of course. Shouto plus someone who practically begged in the most unbegging way to live with you.

Todoroki Shouto and Shishikura Seiji in the same apartment as you made for an interesting combination.

You hadn’t wanted Shishikura Seiji as a roommate at all. Period. 

There were about eleven other people you only considered asking, but they all said no for their own reasons. Bakugou and Midoriya had found their own apartment closer to the University, and for much cheaper, Kirishima and Mina were RA’s and could not move in. Kaminari said he liked Sero’s couch too much to leave, and Sero couldn’t live in an apartment without a balcony. Momo said the room was too small, Jirou said she’d rather continue living with Momo, Uraraka said it was a tad bit too much for her to afford (to be fair, you didn’t have to pay because the Todoroki’s were paying for your housing, but you understood), Tsuyu and Hagakure said they were living at home. Iida said he would be too uncomfortable living with a couple.

Everyone you found on the street wouldn’t accept your offer. Hence, Shouto invited the meatball and rosé obsessed Shishikura Seiji to live with the two of you simply because he was Shouto’s lab partner in one of his advanced physics classes. Stupid chemical engineering nerd.

At twenty-one years, you can now say that you’ve entirely adjusted to Shouto’s womanizer ways. Too often do you find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter, a steaming cup of tea in your hand as you drink it in slowly, watching with much amusement as either a no-name girl leaves or a walk of shame Shouto enters. It happens at most five times a week; you were used to it. While the unease had finally left, you had to admit you were impressed your best friend could easily sleep around as he did and maintain his outstanding grades.

However, just because you were finally used to Shouto’s womanizer tendencies didn’t mean the world was. Even in University, your fellow students would ask with wide eyes and behind flat palms if the two of you were dating — specifically if Shouto was cheating on you or if it was an open relationship. You would each and every time, smile cheekily, shake your head and say with a roll of your eyes: “No, we’re not dating. He’s not cheating, and no, this is nothing more than us being best friends. Sho is too much of a jealous person to allow for an open relationship.”

Somehow, the constant begging of approval and the erasure of any romantic connection between you and Shouto from the plethora of female students at Tokyo University wasn’t even the most annoying part of it all. No, not at all.

What really ground your nerves was a pattern you noticed when you were eighteen.

Unlike Shouto, you hadn’t had the chance to lose your virginity until you were eighteen. Most of the boys who liked you always assumed you and Shouto were dating, the ones who gathered the courage to ask you out anyways were boys you were less than impressed with. By some act of some higher god, your crush — the school's third-year baseball team's captain when you were a first-year — reappeared in your life and asked you out. It wasn’t your best decision, you can fully admit it, but he was friendly and sweet as he fucked you in his small bed.

You hadn’t expected sex to be like that, and if you had enjoyed this, you couldn’t help but wonder just how Shouto was in bed to have girls behaving like that.

However, the spell was broken when he helped you change back into your clothes, and he begged you not to tell Shouto he was the person you cheated on him with.

It was on this day that it clicked.

What went for him, unfortunately, went for you too.

Except where girls rose to the challenge to dethrone you from Shouto’s side (a shame because they were vying for a seat that you had no claim over), the boys lowered their head like some damn omega to Shouto’s alpha.

Disgusting.

Even with the plentiful, plethora, consistent denial of your relationship with Shouto, even with the tally of girls, Shouto’s bedded (and more excitedly, deflowered — ugh!) rose consistently, no one ever really believed you weren’t dating him! Too many a time, you had been centimeters from making out with a guy for them to pull away, screeching that they couldn’t allow you to betray Shouto. The men who didn’t care were sleezebags, and thus, with a growl and a snarl, you found that you were only able to fuck men who thought jackhammering their fingers into your labia — yes, your labia — would make you cum.

You didn’t want to say you hated your childhood best friend for such duplicitous, selfish reasons… but you did.

But today was Saturday, a few months into the new second semester of the school year, and with school spirit once again high and workload low. The entire campus was brimming with parties, celebrations, alcohol drinking competition, sleazy dancing, and enough sexual tension to kill all celibate people.

So, we look back to where we started.

Shishikura Seiji running away as you nestled back against Shouto’s chest.

“I didn’t think he was actually going to drink these things,” Shouto sighed, spinning the last few remaining drinks of his rosé in his hand. “It’s been in the fridge for almost five months.”

“He probably made his meatballs again and needed something terrible to blame the flavor on,” you half joke half say in complete seriousness. You were not fond of Shishikura at all, and he was not fond of you either. He had a tendency to mansplain everything, which continuously ground on your nerves, especially when he had no jurisdiction to act so confidently.

He was a physics major, not a goddamn god.

Fuck off.

“I feel sorta bad,” Shouto sighs, his hand low and warm on your waist. “But I will admit, these drinks are practically like carbonated water.”

“2% alcohol,” you stress, your grin widening as you pull away from his chest to stare at him. Your gaze is bright, and his eyes are filled with amusement. “You’re either the world's lightest lightweight or a child with no tolerance to actually expect to get drunk off this shit.”

“I think you’re slurring your words already though, you sure you’re okay, lightweight?” Shouto teases, his soft smirk teasing.

“Who was the one who took three shots and passed out?” you wonder innocently, finger to your chin as if you were trying to remember.

“At least I don’t throw up when I crossfade.”

“IT'S NOT MY FAULT. MY BIOLOGY JUST HAPPENS TO WORKS THAT WAY!”

“Alright, bitch,” Shouto snorts, completely unattractively, “hurry up and get ready, yeah? We have a party we’re already late to, and we have no drinks for an actual pregame.”

You squeal excitedly, having forgotten the massive party that was being held a few blocks away. “I’ll be ready in ten!”

Typically, when you went out partying, you went with the group of eleven people you would have rather replaced Shishikura as a roommate. To get ready for said parties, you would always find yourself at Momo’s place with an outfit change, makeup bag, and hair styling items. You had made it a tradition with the other girls to get ready together. The only exceptions to which this wouldn’t happen was when someone had a work event or some family thing come up.

In your case, you had been stuck at a professor's office, diligently helping to put together their research journal as they were in their final steps of publishing their findings. Due to your friendly relationship with your professor, the time had been lost, and your ten p.m. call time to arrive at Momo’s had been missed with a quick:

↳ held up at work! go on without me, sorry! see you at the party!!!!

When you crashed through the front door of your apartment, you froze, seeing Shouto in the hallway by the mirror. Sometime between getting his haircut to be shorter and from this day, he had begun to style his hair by threading it back by his fingers, and boy, it looked fucking good. He was already dressed up for the party. Black joggers, a white t-shirt that was a bit too small if the tight, seductive way it clung to his muscles spoke of anything, and a hoodie he had no care about in case he lost it after taking it off once getting there. Shouto was practically immune to all weather types, he could be in both snow or fire without a single worry, but he knew that a large sweatshirt that smelled like him was enough to hook and line any truly desperate female.

Shouto had chuckled, taking in your frazzled state with years of practice and nudged toward the fridge, already knowing that you had missed your pregaming with the girls.

“Shishikura has two rosés left. Grab ‘em, and we can pregame together.”

But that was all unimportant and already said.

In the end, it took you thirty minutes to get ready.

You had practically smeared on your makeup, hoping the warm, crazy miscoloring would be hidden within the crazy light show the party would definitely be displaying. Your outfit consisted of a tank top that exposed your cleavage and a skirt that hugged your legs and ass just right.

You came stumbling out of your room, fingers trying to shove on your earrings, the rings on your fingers clicking loudly against each other. You smiled breathily, gratefully accepting Shouto’s sweater as you slipped on your comfortable heels at the doorway before hurrying out.

Shouto kept an arm around your shoulder the entire way out, the immense heat of his body keeping you warm as his sweater rested lazily, awkwardly, around your shoulders and arms. You didn’t want to put it entirely on to save your makeup, and in case anyone had any fucking thing to say about the show you and Shouto were putting on. Eventually, the bright and comical conversation between you and Shouto began to grow louder as the pounding of dance music began to ring in your ears. Soon enough, you passed a few drunk people, more and more, until you reached the house where the party was.

Shoving the sweatshirt into Shouto’s chest, you grinned as the smell of alcohol, weed, over-cologne men and women, the faint smell of puke, and the gross crawl of BO flooded your nose.

Ah yes, nothing like a university party.

Shouto laughs at your evident piqued excitement, and after he pulls on the light blue sweatshirt, he grabs your hand, and into the overcrowded home you go.

The intense heat of overcrowded bodies on a dance floor that also makes up a drinking game floor makes you grateful for your choice of clothes. Everyone around you is already drunk, sloshed, intoxicated off their ass as unknown drinks spill from their red Solo cups, sometimes even raining down on you. You grimace as Shouto continues to pull you through. You can taste the Hennesy on your upper lip and somehow know that whoever was drinking it was a freshman with a vendetta to kill his liver and love for drinking before coming of legal age.

“What do you want to drink?” Shouto yells over the nearly obnoxiously loud music. He has his sight on the drinks counter. “Mixed or the juice?”

“Fuck me up with the jungle juice!” you yell right back, pressing to his side as two dancing (see, vigorously dry-humping) nearly trample on top of you. “Parties are meant to be a non-sober event. I need to be borderline blacked out five hours ago!”

The agreeing chuckle from Shouto isn’t heard by you at all, but you can feel his chest give a familiar vibration as finally, he pulls you from the sea of bodies to where the floor is especially wet and sticky. You’ve reached the bar area.

Grabbing your own red Solo Cup, you watch as Shouto makes his own drink. Heavy on the alcohol, light on the mixer, and a good handful of ice (he’s always liked the cold better). His hand reaches for your cup and you offer your cup up as he opens up an ice chest filled with neon-colored jungle juice.

When the drink is returned to you, the both of you cheers and take a long drink.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N-CHAN!”

“You’re finally here, you fucking slut! Getcha fat ass over here now!”

Your neck is twisted to see the absolutely plastered group of girls you considered to be your closest friends, and you laugh loudly.

“Seems like I’m needed,” you yell at Shouto, trying your best to act nonchalantly as he smiles knowingly at you. “Text me about what you decide to do if we don’t see each other?”

“Of course,” he simply responds before placing the curve of his cup back onto his lip as hands grabbed your arms and whisked you away.

In a matter of sixty minutes, you all had played five drinking games.

The girls felt it was imperative to get you to their level right away, so they started off with a game of King’s Cup. Not only was the deck rigged against you — you pulled all four of the four cards and thus had to chug four times — but you had drawn the last King and drank some weird concoction of jungle juice, a tequila shot, a vodka shot, and whatever the fucking hell Mina was drinking. How you managed to chug that and stay on your feet was beyond you, but it was without saying that you had utterly and inevitably caught up with the girls.

After the King's Cup came the Flip Cup game, your team won thankfully due to Mina’s one flip wonder as Kaminari struggled to down the shot in the cup.

After Flip Cup came Smoke or Fire, a game that had Tsuyu stuck on the bus for a record-breaking one round. No one could believe she did that.

Then came a round of Shot Roulette to end with what you were currently doing now, using a drinking card game Momo had made in her spare time to do embarrassing things at random.

Five games in an hour… you questioned if there was by any chance illegal substances in the jungle juice because it had felt like a whopping two minutes.

“It’s midnight!” Hagakure hollered, stumbling backward as she grinned in drunken, stupid happiness. She giggled before singing, “Midnight… memoriessss~!”

Mina groaned at the reference but completely perked up as the dance music changed suddenly from its slightly mellow, good vibe song to none other than Everytime We Touch by Cascada. By tradition, by applicable law by all and every god, when this one song played, everyone needed to stop what they were doing and immediately head to the dance floor.

With your hand slightly sticky with alcohol, and your mind absolutely clouded with alcohol, you whooped loudly as Mina dragged you to the dancefloor. 

You, seven girls, formed a closed circle, your Solo cups sloshing over with alcohol, and your faces scrunched tight as you danced and sang as loudly as you could. Each pounding beat of music vibrated in your chest, each offkey note sung by the party-goers making you feel light, happy, dizzy, and oh so perfectly drunk. For just a split moment, you lock eyes with Shouto, who’s across the dance floor, his arms wrapped around some girl you don’t recognize, eyes drinking you in. You smile for a bit before turning back around, arms rocketing up to the air with your excitement.

Although the song ended, the DJ continued to play bangers, and you never once stopped in your mirthful dancing and grinding against your friends as the night continued to carry on. But when you spun out from Mina, your entire world spinning with it, a pair of warm, heavy, large hands rested on your waist, and you laughed.

“Who is this?” you ask, head slamming backward to try and look at the person who had caught you yet hadn’t tried grinding against you. “Oh, Inasa? Hi!”

Yoarashi Inasa was one of your University's well-known jocks. He was a skilled runner, one of the best Japan has ever seen despite his body type telling you he was a bodybuilder. Immediately your smile of idiotic stupor became intentful, seductive, still bordering extreme intoxication. Was Inasa your type? No, not really, but you could reasonably and accurately say that he was a handsome man, with a fantastic body, not to mention a pleasant personality.

You also itched to know what his dick looked like.

This was definitely someone you could see yourself fucking tonight.

“Hi, y/l/n,” Inasa said, his naturally loud voice easily picked up on despite the music being blasted in your ear. “How’s your night going?”

You lick your dry lips, eyes blinking a few times before you turn in his arms, your arms stretching so that you could wrap them around his neck. “Better now that you’re here,” you smile shyly. “How’s yours.”

“Ahem,” Inasa blushes, his eyes staring straight at your cleavage before looking back up at you. “H-Hoping to get better from here! Well, I’m sure it will be.”

“Oh?” you ask, your confidence building faster and faster as you press further against him. “Anything you have in mind?” —you press your thigh suggestively against the semi-hard spot against his jeans. — “Anyway... I can... help?”

Inasa groans deep in his chest, his head knocking backward at your implications, the pleasant vibrations passing on to you. You grin, fingers scraping against the bottom of his buzzcut and bringing him closer, praying for a kiss. But as he returns his head back down, his gaze leaves yours for a split second, and you watch in horror as a sobering look washes over him.

“Actually… you’re here with some random dude, right? I don’t want to step on his toes. I thought I saw you come in with some guy; sorry y/l/n, I can’t do this.”

And just as quickly as he was against you, he was gone.

It took everything in you not to screech bloody murder over the fact that you were once again left horny with no man to take responsibility for it.

Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party With Shouto: 78% Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party Without Shouto: 22%

Walking home alone, cold, and with extreme bitterness towards Yoarashi Inasa was a sadly sobering experience. By the time you collapsed onto your bed, you were only slightly buzzed, boarding sobriety while not being sober exactly.

Fuck men.

Fuck their cowardness over a nonexistent romantic/sexual relationship between you and Shouto.

But also… you really wanted to fuck men right now.

The slicked horniness of the potential thought of bedding Inasa had made its unignorable appearance via your soaked panties. You hated yourself, hated your biological needs and lusts.

“I’ll wring Shouto’s neck in front of all of them next time,” you grumble to yourself. “Stage a fake breakup for an imaginary thing…”

Nestling further into your pillows, your eyes closed, body relaxing against the bed when a peculiar sound seemed to echo in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Your eyes slammed open, your jaw-dropping at the very obvious, entirely embarrassing sound of Shouto having sex on his desk sounded in your room! Of course it sounded in your room. His desk was pressed to your wall because that would mean whenever he was his icky womanizer self, you wouldn’t have to hear anything! Your rooms were soundproof but apparently not movement proof.

The thwack of the wood desk slammed against the wall, and with your ear so close to the wall, you began to hear the shaky, intense breathing of Shouto. The whines, keens, and screams of the girl he was fucking as she begged for more. Sobbing that his cock was too much for her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Your panties soaked even more, and with a brain that somehow retracted back into its state of stupor, your fingers brushed against your swollen, ready clit.

This was wrong, so very, very wrong, you thought, the sounds of pitched whining against the stupidly impressive, steady, consistent fucking.

Your mind was a drunken fever. 

Your eyes closed not all the way, yet blind to the wall before you as your finger danced and teased against your demanding clit.

You whined softly, matching the groaning of Shouto, who banged something other than the desk into the wall.

For a moment, just this once, you wanted to be the one desperately clinging to Shouto’s back, hips snapping and circling in tandem to his, allowing him to drill his cock deep within you. Your back arched, heat reaching your toes, buzzing filling your lips.

“Yes, fuck, right there, Todoroki!” the girl screamed, begged, and prayed. “Oh my god, yes, yes yes, right there, right the— mmph!”

You find your teeth sinking into your fist, trying to keep your pounding, horny induced brain from crying out. You wanted to know what he was doing to her, if he had kissed her silent, shoved his fingers in her mouth. Maybe he had fucked her so good she couldn’t possibly say more.

There is nothing from Shouto you can hear, no noises of praise, nothing except the occasional ragged breath that seems to permeate through the walls and whisper sweetly, teasingly, like a succumbs in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It increases, in noise, the wall separating your room from his beginning to rattle, shake in his conquest.

Your fingers are wet, entirely slippery with your conquest, your hips thrashing against your touch, clinging to a phantom memory of the last male you had managed to fuck. Then, as your stomach trembles with the orgasm that's mere seconds from blessing you with a release, you hear him—Shouto.

“Fuck.”

It’s not much. If anything, this girl should be so embarrassed she hasn’t been able to elicit a loud response from Shouto, but it’s a verbal gift from heaven above for you. His voice, tight, husky, drenched with a driving lust, whispers to you and only you, wrapping you in this blanket of solitude and need. 

With your back arching from the mattress, your hips leaving the soft surface, and your jaw growing slack, your moan is silent, unheard by no one but the heavens as you cum. Heat floods throughout your entire body, tickling and twirling in you until you can’t do anything but shudder, shaking as you fall back down on your bed, dizzy and completely satisfied. 

You don’t think about it.

Don’t try to unpack just what happened right now because the reality that you had just masturbated to the sound of your childhood best friend fucking some random girl is a bit too much. Even for you.

So you don’t think about it, and soon the thudding of the desk on the wall is nothing but a drumming lullaby, and sleep consumes you.

When you wake up, you don’t remember what you did.

You get up and trudge to the bathroom, your party clothes abandoned completely so that you’re wearing nothing but a large shirt you had stolen from Shouto years ago. You scratch your belly as you walk into the bathroom, eyes caked with your sleep still as you begin brushing your teeth.

As you brush your teeth, you begin to take off last night's makeup — well, whatever remained of it.

Spitting out the last foamy remains of the paste from your mouth, you rinsed your mouth before washing your skin. You looked much more awake now. Slapping your cheeks in an encouraging, ‘im a functional human adult taking part in some random face wash commercial,’ you exited the bathroom and went to the kitchen. 

Shishikura was already in the kitchen, his face expressionless, entirely dead to the world as he scooped some rice into a bowl and topped it off with some eggs.

“Morning,” you yawn, arms stretching over your head as you near closer to your unwanted roommate.

Shishikura sneers at you, but even he was more polite in the morning, sometimes.

“I heard the both of you get back last night,” Shishikura mocked, slamming the lid to his rice cooker with an unimpressed scowl. “You were thirty minutes apart. You know, if you two still want to be partying like a bunch of eighteen-year-olds, do it respectfully.”

Your smile back at him is as fake as he is, and you refuse to move out of the way as he tries to walk back to his room. He growls — gross? — and sidesteps you, grumbling the entire way back to his room as you roll your eyes at his retreating form.

What a child.

You entered the kitchen, fixing up your own things for breakfast.

Kettle brewing hot water for tea, rice cooker on for your own rice (you make enough for Shouto too), and you begin cooking some ham and eggs, readying yourself for a Sunday for going to the library and studying. You hummed to yourself, your phone plugged into the speaker as your music filled the quiet morning air.

You bobbed your head in rhythm with the music, your eyes concentrating on slowly cooking eggs as you poured the hot water from your kettle into the teacup. As you placed your teabag in, you looked up to the sound of a creaking door and grinned wickedly as a girl with light blue hair walked out of the hall you and Shouto’s room were in.

Her dress was rumbled, a few blooming red and purple marks sitting prettily on her collarbone, and her face flushed red as she began to scurry out.

“Bye!” you call out, laughing at the scared eep from the girl and the disgruntled groan from Shouto’s room.

You set down your tea, flipping the eggs in the pan as you heard more shuffling before finally, Shouto made his appearance. He was in nothing but grey sweatpants that sat so low on his waist you could not only see the band of his boxer-briefs, but you were entirely aware of the v-lines, the abs, the pecs, and the small happy trail from his belly button down. You also noted that there was not a single mark on his body, and you wondered if he had ever taken a single mark from a one-night fuck before.

God really cursed you with an objectively attractive best friend, huh.

“Morning, slut,” you sing, noticing with happiness that your rice cooker sang a merry tune, indicating that the rice was done. “Breakfast?”

“Mm,” Shouto grumbled, his hands rubbing his face as he trudged closer to the kitchen, taking a spot on one of the stools. “Depends. Did you make it?”

“...I always make it.”

“I think I like Shishikura’s breakfast better.”

Silence.

You glare at Shouto, and in turn, his lips press to a comfortable, teasing smile.

“Fend for your damn self then.”

Shouto laughed loudly as you began to stubbornly fix yourself a bowl of both your servings. You ate far less than he did, but still enough to fill you until after three pm, so the size of your bowl was hysterical. 

“You’re such a horrible wife-roommate,” Shouto accuses, standing up from the stool and entering the kitchen to try and persuade you otherwise to give him his own food. “And here I thought that you liked cooking for me.”

“Go tell your stupid wife-roommate Shishikura instead,” you cry loudly, the faux sniffles from you stupidly fake as you begin to shovel a mouthful of rice and eggs into your mouth. “I’m shwure you’chll beh happ t’gther!”

“That’s absolutely disgusting, y/l/n,” Shouto accuses, his nose scrunching as he traps you in his arms, mouth trying to intercept the food moving from your bowl and into your mouth. 

With another desire to prove how unsatisfied in your roommate-marriage you were, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue full of uneaten, partially chewed rice.

“Ea’ eh!” you mocked, your grin growing as Shouto’s initial instinct was to whip his head away from you.

But as always, because Shouto enjoyed being incredibly annoying, he went after your tongue, readying to eat the chewed-up food off your very tongue. 

Eventually, you gave Shouto back his part of the breakfast, laughing as the both of you chatted about who was going to repay Shishikura for the used rosés. Neither one of you could decide, and so it was something to be solved later. Noon, however, came and with a nod, you accepted Shouto’s hug goodbye, to which you twisted his nose triumphantly as you waddled out of the front door, clothed in your winter gear, textbooks, and laptop,

It was time to brave the world and get this paper done.

“Mina, I mean… absolutely no offense when I say this, but it still shocks me every time you say you’re a chemistry major. You just seem so…”

“Dumb?”

“Yeah.”

“You gotta be some kind of stupid to willingly take inorganic chem,” Mina laughed, balancing her textbooks on her head as the both of you climbed the stairwell to the library’s study rooms. “That's why I have the dance minor! Best of both worlds!”

“Could never forget about that,” you laughed as the both of you neared the top of the stairwell.

You didn’t mean to notice him. As a matter of fact, most of your failed conquests at parties never amounted to much anger from you, but seeing Inasa from across the way, his face buried in some aerodynamics textbook, anger boiled in you. On the way to meeting with Mina, you had realized your mistake last night and how you wouldn’t have made said mistake if it hadn’t been for Inasa! You could’ve been dicked down, slammed against your bed and wall as the giant of a man fucked you!

“I’ll be right back,” you sneered, eyes narrowing as you passed your textbook to Mina.

With fire following in ever long, powerful stride, you blinked and immediately found yourself before Inasa.

“Hi. Wanna explain what happened last night?”

Inasa reacted as if you had shot him, his knees coming up to hit the table, his body knocking backward, and he tumbled, crashing to the floor as you watched with a gaping mouth.

“Y-Y/L/N!” Inasa shouted, his face going through half a billion emotions before settling in anxiety-filled fear. You watched, horrified yourself, as he swung to his knees, his head crashing to the floor as he began apologizing to you. “GOODMORNING, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?!”

“Pipe it down, Inasa!” you hiss, your cheeks flooding with embarrassed heat as you garnered the attention of everyone on the floor. “I’m not going to hurt you! I just wanted to talk!”

“Aha, yes, of course!” Inasa laughs, a full belly laugh. He sits up and you freeze seeing the bloodied cut on his forehead. He stands up, completely unaffected by the gash on his forehead, and uprights his chair before sitting comfortably. “How can I help you?”

“What happened to you last night?” you try again, eyebrow raised, arms crossed definitely and awkwardly because yeah… you were confronting a guy who didn't want to sleep with you. “You were into me and then suddenly wasn’t.”

Inasa laughs more, although nothing you said, implied, or did was even remotely funny.

Irritation runs through your veins.

“Inasa, please,” you sigh in helplessness, your eyes annoyed, pleading, and hopeful that he would be the one to finally give you an actual reason.

“It’s… it’s not you. If that’s what you’re wondering,” Inasa finally sighs. His face turns uncharacteristically solemn as his tongue passes through his lips, his shoulders raising to a shrug. “Typically speaking, you are exactly who and what I want when I endeavor in less than chivalrous but still passionate activities. I wanted you last night, and I will not lie that even as I left, I regretted behaving as I did.”

“Well, you did it, and it sorta really sucked,” you laugh, your mouth taut in a frown as your feelings are genuinely hurt.

You keep being put down, and there’s no reason for it.

Why couldn’t you be as sexually active as you wish you could be?

“...Todoroki has a claim on you,” Inasa spoke slowly, his mouth dipping from a usual smile to a frown. “I know you guys aren’t together, but in a way, you two are.”

“No,” you say with complete certainty, anger burning in your chest, “we’re not.”

“Try telling Todoroki that,” Inasa shrugs, his fingers scratching through his buzz cut. “Listen, I wanted to have intercourse with you last night; I did. I also am aware that Todoroki is a womanizer, but he said you were off-limits for all of us.”

“He said that?” your voice is perfectly calm, not showing the raging fire in you.

“Well, no, he definitely did not,” Inasa sighs, the palm of his hands pressing tightly against his eyes. “He has never said it… but it’s the way he talks about you, how he looks at you. It’s a claim on you, even if it’s not a verbal one, and well, no one wants to defy him.”

Your nostrils flare in your irritation, and you find that you’re stepping into Inasa’s personal space, his eyes going wide as you step between his legs and press your hands on his chest.

“I’ll be going home in about five hours. If you still want to fuck me, wait for me,” you say slowly, trying to make sure he understands. “I don’t care if Sho looks at me the way he does; he is not my boyfriend.”

Inasa gulps, his tan skin sporting a healthy pink flush, “Yes, ma’am.”

Five hours later, you’re walking into your apartment with Inasa behind you, his warm, slightly sweaty hand clasped in yours. You make eye contact with both your roommates, Shishikura, whose eyes are rolling to the depths of his skull, and Shouto, who looks like a wall. You, despite the anger you’re feeling for Shouto, smile prettily, then grin wolfishly as you corral Inasa towards your room. You send your roommates a wink before closing the door with a decisive click.

Much like you assumed the night prior, your drunken hazed, lust-driven, anger-flared thoughts proved to be right. Inasa fucked you against the wall, deep into the mattress, he drilled and fucked you until his dick was wet with your slick, and his leg was trembling with his plentiful unleashed loads. But you weren’t done yet, too many times have you been denied, and even though Inasa was trembling, his voice shaking with desperate pleas to slow down or he would cum too fast, you rode him with powerful, swiveling hips.

Once he left, you felt light again.

Your head light, body glowing as you dressed your bruised, cum slick body in a robe as you trudged to the bathroom. You showered, letting the warm water and sweet-smelling oils drench your body before you eventually exited, your hair in a towel, Shouto’s shirt on your person again.

Waltzing to the living room, you grinned as you collapsed on the couch, every grievance you held when you walked in forgotten at the moment.

“Hello,” you smile, your head falling onto Shouto’s lap who was, at the moment, very interested in his phone. Shishikura was gone, undoubtedly leaving in case he heard something he didn’t want to hear during your little four-hour sexscapade. “I am a leaf flowing through the river right now, if you’re wondering.”

“Don’t need to wonder. You were perfectly loud enough,” Shouto grumbled, his eyes rolling. “Says something that I could, considering the rooms are soundproof.”

“I should hope so! After you, the girls rave that Inasa is the best fuck on campus,” you hum, still on a delirious high as you attempt to reach for your best friend's hand to grasp. But to your shock, Shouto jerks away from your touch, and he stands, letting your head fall roughly on the couch. And just like that, your anger is back. The emotion Inasa had managed to fuck out of you for a bit returned at full force. “Shouto?!”

“What?” he snaps.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“My problem is that you brought someone to fuck at fucking five p.m.,” Shouto explains, his expression like the void, empty, dark, menacing. “We agreed to keep it until past ten.”

Your face screws up as you push up off the couch, “Are you kidding me?! I’ve seen you constantly bring girls to fuck at any and all times of the day! Don’t suddenly bring that shit in when it clearly isn’t an actual rule in this apartment!”

“You were also being obnoxiously loud,” Shouto narrows his eyes at you.

“You are too!”

“When am I ever?”

“I literally listened to you fuck that girl last night against our shared wall!”

“You moved your bed to our shared wall?! When?!”

“Doesn’t matter! I would’ve heard it just fine on the other side!”

“The girl wasn’t even that fucking loud!” 

“You can’t ever remember the names of the girls you fuck! Do you know anything about them ever? Are you even using condoms?!”

“You only ever fuck men with questionable personalities.”

“Gee, I wonder fucking why!”

The two of you were nose to nose, anger flaring and near tangible between the two of you.

“What do you mean?” he grits slowly.

“I’m talking about you mad dogging any male human who so much as looks or thinks of me!” you snap, finger shoving between his pecs. “No one touches me because somehow they respect the way a womanizer looks at me.”

“I’m not looking at you in any special way,” Shouto squints his eyes, completely not having your accusations.

“Even if you don’t, this fucking behavior is pathetic of you!” you say, hands motioning between you two and the room. “I had sex, and you’re acting like some pathetic child! I have been putting up with your sex-craze tendencies since we were sixteen, asshole! Sixteen! If I want to gloat and float about having sex, then I fucking deserve to.”

His nostrils flare, his upper lip curling in a small twitch before he rolls his eyes and walks away.

“That’s right, Todoroki,” you laugh bitterly at his retreating form. “Walk away from a fight because you can never win them.”

It took a bit for the dust to settle, but as soon as it did, you realized in horror that you and Shouto had, for the first time ever, fought.

Being roommates with Shouto was always a fun thing. Having your childhood best friend right at your disposal meant that you could have dinner nights, movie nights, game nights, morning waffles, hikes, and literally anything whenever and wherever you wanted. He was a person to talk to when the days were long, and there was no one else in the world, the person who was there for you through thick and thin. But for two days, he had been locked away in his room, unwilling to look at you, refusing to be anywhere near you.

Your friends had noticed immediately.

The way the both of you hadn’t shown up together, the way you sat at opposite ends of the table, refusing to be trapped in a conversation together. Separate the two of you were, and the world acted as if Earth had dropped out of gravity.

You could care less right now.

You were rightfully mad at him! How dare he act so pettily over you having a sex life when you were expected to blink, turn the other way, and laugh when he would shower after a girl would leave before joining you on the couch to watch a movie. He was in the wrong, not you!

But even if you were unwilling to budge and he was refusing to see things the way they should be, you were now incredibly lonesome. So as you sat with your back on the mattress. Your butt to the wall, and your legs kicking against the wall, you thought of what you could do. With a bitter sigh, you rolled off your bed and scurried out of the apartment. Nothing but your wallet and ID on you so that you could get to the store on the first floor of the complex.

Holding the item in hand, you knocked on a door, your gaze already on the floor, embarrassed that you were going to do what you had to do.

“What?” came the annoyed voice of Shishikura, the door to his room opening as he looked at you unimpressed and very obviously unwelcomed.

“Truce?” you asked, raising the six-pack of Angry Orchard Rosé Cider. 

Shishikura looks at you, at the ciders, then back at you.

“Fine.”

How in the world you’re drunk off of four rosé ciders is beyond you, but you are. You’re in the living room, laughing so hard that your stomach hurts as you’re trying not to snort the liquid from your mouth and out your nose. Shishikura is equally plastered off of one drink, his red a ruby red against his purple hair. He’s leaning against you, his breathing ragged, near asthmatic as he tries to once explain just how Shouto looked like when some girl slapped him across the face yesterday for ghosting her after sex.

“He was so shocked!” Shishikura squeaked out, his voice pitchy and incredibly high as he laughed more and more. “You should have seen it!”

Your feet kicked at the air, your face and lungs burning with a fire you hadn’t felt in so long as your laughter turned silent. You gasped for air, trying to contain yourself but failing hysterically.

“Do you wa’ another meatballsh?” Shishikura suddenly asked, his hands flailing to grab his plate of meat. “I think you want another o’.”

“I wan’ ‘ne!” you cried with a slight slur, tears of joy slipping past your eyes to which you haphazardly scrubbed them off your face. “They’re soooo good! I didn’t think they could be so… be so good!”

You find yourself eating another meatball, drinking it down with the cider and feeling happy again. Shishikura goes still by your side, and you hum in wonder, unfocused eyes trying to find what had caught his attention and falling onto the one man you were mad at currently.

Shouto was standing at the apartment entrance, dressed in ripped black jeans, a tight grey turtleneck sweater, and his backpack slung on his shoulder. It was, without a doubt, a studying-only outfit. You knew and have discussed too many times with Shouto about how he never trusted women to take his turtlenecks off without potentially ruining the fabric.

“Well, someone’s finally home... from a night of beddin mo’ women, huh?” a voice spoke, but you were completely unsure if it was you or Shishikura who said it.

Judging by the way Shouto’s eyes locked on Shishikura and not yours, it seemed it was him who said it.

“No, I was doing something,” Shouto retorted, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack, his eyes shifting between you and Shishikura. “A paper for class.”

“Sure,” you end up speaking up, your voice sounding completely sober. You sit up so that your elbow is resting on Shishikura’s nearest shoulder. You raise the glass bottle to your lips, drinking its content without care, never once breaking eye contact. “What was the paper's name? You going after your TA? Or was it a professor by chance?”

Shouto’s eyebrows furrow, his face completely unimpressed by your comeback, but he remains silent.

“He looks like he’s trying to cosplay that one Young The Rock picture, no way would a dignified professor or TA fuck him!” Shishikura laughed with a loud bark, and all of a sudden, that was all you could see too.

The both of you howled with laughter, laughing and slapping each other as you attempted to drink the last bits of the rosés as Shouto rolled his eyes and walked away.

“This is fun. No wonder why you guys do it to me so often.”

-

As time does, it moves forward.

It seemed as if the entire campus had tuned in to what had transpired between you and Shouto. No one the slightest bit sure as to what happened, but everyone knew something big had happened. There was no more walking together before classes or after classes, no weird Instagram or Snapchat stories of the other, both of you never having to excuse yourself because you had plans with the other. Even though they claimed to not care about other people’s business, the school was suddenly invested in the single speculation that Todoroki Shouto’s and Y/l/n Y/n’s relationship was over.

“Breaking News, it was never a real relationship!” you would scream the first few times you heard it, which only worked to make them whisper louder that you were in further denial.

For the last seventeen years of your life, you had never gone more than two days without talking or seeing your childhood best friend. Those two days happened when Rei had experienced a staggering, hospital-inducing breakdown from stress and had subsequently burned Shouto when you were five years old. The two days were because he spent four days in the hospital. The first two days, he was not allowed visitors as the hospital staff put him under a coma to help his body from entering shock and heal. Of course, the moment he was awakened, you were dragging your mother to his bedside.

That was the only time you hadn’t seen or spoken to Shouto consistently.

But since Sunday evening, you had only seen Shouto once when you were drunk with Shishikura. You had only spoken to him then too.

For the first time in seventeen years, you broke your record of not talking or seeing Shouto.

From two days to five.

It was weird.

You felt almost empty.

So when Mina and Uraraka placed their arms around your shoulders, their eyes dead serious, you knew that they had a distraction for you.

“The deltas are throwing a party,” Uraraka spoke with mystery. “It is on Saturday.”

“It is only right that we go, get our asses so drunk our blood is practically a distillery, and fuck anyone who looks at us a second longer than anyone else,” Mina agrees, her tone wise and knowing as she nods her head.

“Our question to you is:” they spoke together, their voices weirdly, obviously practiced, in synch. “Are you in?”

Your tongue is pressed between your lips, your fingers pressing against the textbook you were using to help support your essay’s thesis, and you roll your eyes.

You grin.

“Obviously.”

And as time promises each and every time, Saturday finally came.

“What is our objective tonight?!” Mina screams over the background music that Jirou is blasting in Momo’s larger-than-life bathroom.

“To fuck bitches and get money!” Hagakure, the only one currently not downing a drink, screams back.

“NO, WRONG!” Mina shakes her head, climbing onto the white marble countertops and pointing at Jirou. “Kyo! Your turn!”

“To beat that prick in the sound booth and prove that I’m—”

“NO! Wrong again! Yaomomo!”

“Um, to make everlasting mem—”

“INCORRECT, YOU GORGEOUS PRINCESS! Tsuyu, don’t fail me, babe!”

“Well, it’s to prove to Todoroki that y/n-chan should be able to fuck any person she wants.”

“A bit lengthy, a bit focused on the wrong parts of it, but YES! Tonight’s operation: get y/n a man — preferably Inasa — who fucks the negativity out of her!”

You laugh loudly, rolling your eyes as you lean in closer to the mirror. You hold a Mike’s Hard in one hand, and in the other is your eyeliner as you paint on your makeup. You’re not really hearing the conversations that the girls are having, your own mind too lost in the music, and the swaying you’ve picked up as the three bottles of Mike’s you’ve had in the past thirty minutes are calming down your still frazzled nerves.

You don’t pull away from your reflection until after you’re done smoothing over your favorite lipstick on your pouty lips. You look over at your reflection and see Mina dancing with an awkwardly stiff Jirou and a delightfully giggling Momo on the bathroom countertops. A smile forms on your face, happiness radiating in your chest, and you grin looking at your friends.

But Shouto still sat in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder why.

Why did it hurt knowing that he was avoiding you as much as you were him?

Why didn’t he just try to corner you?

Why did you care that he didn’t?

He was your best friend in the entire world, since your earliest memories, he’s been there, you reason, your whooping not quite as loud as you watch Jirou awkwardly be sandwich between a grinding Mina and a complacent Momo.

It was his fault you, you further reasoned, smiling widely at Hagakure, who was twirling around you, applying her lipstick as a super crazy never before seen talent of hers. He was the one acting like an idiot over the people you slept with even though you let all the people he slept with slide!

But why did you?

Your brows furrowed slightly, unfurrowing just as quickly as Mina pulled you and Uraraka up onto the countertop with her as Jirou and Momo dropped to the floor.

You fucking were in love with Shouto, damnit! Of course you let the stupid personal things go just to appease him! Your back straightened, your eyes rolling as you began to dance with the Kehlani music thumping in the background, but then you freeze.

You were in love with him.

You loved Shouto.

Not in a friendly, platonic, family way.

In an ‘I would date you if I could and marry you on the prettiest beach in front of the most beautiful sunset’ way.

You found that your body was dancing on autopilot as you began to reassess your thoughts, your actions, your wants with Shouto, desperately trying to disprove this love for him. But no matter what you did, you found that it was true no matter what angle you looked at it.

The bass dropped, and you went stiff, your body standing straight and tall although you felt incredibly, terribly small.

“I love him,” you spoke, although you’re not sure who to. Maybe it was to the laughing gods above you or the crying spirits around you. But the girls heard it for some reason, and they, as they were patiently waiting for these past six, nearly seven days, caught you as you went weak.

Finally, realizing that you were in love with your childhood best friend was not the conclusion you expected from a week's silence from Shouto and you. But as you were currently in a crop top with a mesh shirt underneath and the most ripped jeans you owned, chugging down a neon green and blue nearly toxic alcoholic drink, you realized that being at this party was the right way to conclude this circus of a week.

The rush of the liquid dropping down the beer bong was something you found yourself struggling to keep up with, and you felt some of the liquid pour out of your mouth as you grunt, trailing down your heaving chest, creating an image in your onlookers as you refused to choke or pull away. Swallowing the last bit of the drink, ripping the plastic tube out of your mouth, you threw your hands in the air, Tsuyu, who had held and poured the contents for you, screaming too as she lifted your arm in victory.

You couldn’t really hear the music anymore, much more entranced with the music you were singing on your own, and you were currently holding Mina’s face, touching foreheads with her as you spoke a mantra of your love for her.

“Ashido Mina, you are the baddest bitch in the whole wide world. I love your pink hair and your fat ass, and I would die for you. I love you… so fucking much,” is what you said. How it was actually said and how it was perceived is a whole other story because Mina laughed loudly and allowed you to hug her despite your sticky alcohol body.

Your twenties were the new two’s, it seemed.

“Yo, y/l/n!” a voice yelled, and although you let go of Mina’s face, your arms found a new home around her neck as you turned around.

“Hm?”

Your terrible drunk eyes looked all over before falling on a man wearing a basketball jersey and joggers.

Shindou Yo, one of campus’ manwhores. He had a reputation similar to Shouto, you knew that very well, but you were aware that he was disturbingly creepy. According to many vital witnesses, the man slept with just about anyone willing regardless of gender, so not only did you know what the girls thought of him, experienced with him, there was a wider demographic not even Shouto had entered. Number one thing to be told was the fact that Shindou was into some heavy, dark shit to an extreme, his room reeked of sex, and he himself smelled like booze, weed, and BO. But a strong dick was a strong dick at the end of the day.

“Come play beer pong with me?” he asked, his hands shoved into his pockets as he smiled innocently. “I’ve heard some pretty solid shit about your skills, and I want to see how I add up.”

“I’ll play!” you agree immediately, jumping at the thought of drinking more. “Bu I don’t wa’ beer… ish nashty.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

With your arm still holding onto Mina, you accepted Shindou’s hand and allowed him to drag you off to where he wanted to play the game of beer pong.

The game of beer pong went without a single thing going wrong. You were paired up with Shindou, and Mina had managed to find Kirishima in the crowd before you got to your destination and demanded she have him as a partner and not Monoma.

It was safe to say that you were drunk, disgustingly out of your mind. It was an intense game of Cup Pong, the two different teams equally as bad in the drunken stupor, but finally, the two teams were down to a single cup and Kirishima — who was the only reason why they were winning!!!! — had the last ball. You watched in terrible apprehension, fingers digging into Shinsou’s biceps as Kirishima rose the wet ping pong ball to Mina’s lips and let her blow on it for good luck before bringing it back in and began a few steadying practice throws.

“You know, I’m glad I saw you at this party,” Shindou whispers to you, his head ducking down so that you and only you could hear that.

“Why?” you say a lot louder than you wanted, your heart hammering in fear that you would lose this game.

“Because you’re sexy as fuck,” Shindou spoke, his voice turning deeper, huskier, “and now you’re single.”

You blink, attention stolen from the game as you forgot about the final cup and looked at Shindou with a blank stare and an open mouth.

“What?”

“Cuz you and Todoroki are over,” Shindou explains to you as if you’re a child. “You guys are over, right? That’s all everyone’s talking about, and all us guys are ready to fuck you whenever you’re ready.”

His smirk irritates you, the lust in his eyes angering you as you drop your hold on his arm.

“We weren’t together, and you knew that,” you say, eyes narrowing as the crowd watching the game explodes in raging cheers as Kirishima sinks the ball into the cup. “Why the fuck would Shouto be fucking every girl that walks if we were together? What makes you think I’d be okay with it?”

“You’re a cuck,” Shindou continues on, confidence unaffected. “Oh, are the two of you maybe changing roles now? Does the big guy want me to fuck you in front of him?”

Your fist makes contact with his throat before you can even stop yourself and the cheers quickly turn into gasps.

After apologizing profusely to the party holders, they decided that you could, in fact, stay at the party. Your knuckles throbbed in pain, the alcohol in your system buzzing in you in a way that wasn’t fun or relaxing as you made a simple side-step dance move in the middle of the dance floor. The girls, who had at the beginning of the party, drifted ways, had once more glued themselves at your side on the floor. You weren’t in a dancing mood as you took a drink of what you assumed to be a Moscow mule made by Mina for you to keep you at a high for the rest of the party.

Like hell you would ever let Shouto cuck you!

Let him fuck another woman in front of you?

You would go insane if he ever thought that would be acceptable.

“Down girl, relax!” Mina yelled by your ear. “I thought I was babysitting y/n, not Bakugou Katsuki!”

You startled, realizing that your frown had become a fierce snarl as you danced on the floor.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you feeling good again; let’s enjoy this night!” Mina exclaimed, her hands pushing your drink to your mouth and forcing you to chug the contents of the drink. The red Solo Cup is dropped to the floor as soon as you finish. She grabbed your wrists and began to fluidly move your arms — or as well as she could manage herself because she, too, was drunk.

But with Mina winking and smiling at you, the rest of the girls eventually throw themselves into your linked dance circle, your own negative emotions left and in came joy.

It took about another round of ten songs for the dance circle to be destroyed and to have all of you resuming a rave-like jumping and scream-singing as Jirou finally snuck her way into the DJ booth and succeeded to take over. You spun around at the end of one song, laughing completely out of breath as you clapped your hands together. You often forget that while Jirou only listened to a very specific genre, she was a musical genius who had banger playlists for every occasion.

It seemed frat parties were one of them.

However, the next song had your head tilting backward, your grin spreading even wider as you began to move your hips in slow, distinct movements. Dancing with your hips was something you had learned, something you instilled into your dancing category for as long as you could remember.

The beats were loud, deep, thumping deep in the ground and vibrating with great strength in your chest as you pointed a finger at Mina, who was also dancing similarly to you. Your lips moved as you sang the song quietly, the heat and humidity of the room suddenly pressing onto you like another person. You hummed, flicking the parts of your hair sticking to the nape of your neck off, grateful for the slightly cooler air hitting your sweaty skin.

As you rolled your hips down, your hands fanning yourself, trying to cool down your deliriously warm, alcohol-heated body, you froze for just a bit. A person pressed to your back, your ass pressing against a hot thigh, and a hand resting upon the curve of your thigh, keeping you in place. You might have cared, but the body against yours was a welcomed one. Your hips and ass continuing to move in tandem with the music, deliberate highs and lows, and you worked your way up and down the man's body who met yours with spinning accuracy that made you began to pant, your heart racing because this was hot to you. You raised your arms behind you, clasping onto his neck, keeping him on you.

His hair was soft under your touch, slightly sweaty but threaded and parted between your fingers just too easily. His left hand, which had found a spot on your stomach, was radiating heat, something easily felt due to you only having mesh cloth there.

It was slow.

Sensual.

Somehow familiar.

Absolutely mind-numbing.

His chest broad against your back, muscles strong and tight against you.

He was skilled, practiced. Someone you knew was not going to disappoint you, and as your lust-glazed eyes took in the entirely shocked looks of your friends, you finally turned to look.

Somehow, someway, you weren’t shocked at all to see Shouto’s clouded, dark eyes locking on yours. Your world seems to freeze as something between you and Shouto is so obviously broken between you, forever changing, no longer able to go back. It didn’t matter that this was the first time in almost a week you had seen him, had talked to him, he was there, and you wanted to feel his skin scorching against yours. His touch screamed of his want for you, your recognition of your love for him, and your current lust for him. You were angry, hurt, confused, but you were too drunk to care, too intoxicated on the spell the two of you created on this dance floor.

But even as your world froze, the music continued on.

Grabbing Shouto’s hand, you spun around so that his chest was now pressed against yours, your legs between his. You continued dancing, continued to roll your hips down as you sunk down to the ground as Shouto remained standing, his hand supporting and balancing you as you went down and up. He began to dance with you again, the world seemingly disappearing as the two of you ground and panted heavily in each other's ears.

He pushed forward, and you whined, feeling the blazing swollen heat of his semi-hard cock against your stomach, but you met him there.

Your fingers fisting in his hair as his hands found their way into your back pockets, gripping your ass, and your eyes fluttered shut as his mouth, blazing, intense, and intentful, mashed against yours. You kissed him back immediately, all defenses abandoned to that of your lust, wants, and needs. His mouth was a fire, his kiss a blaze that consumed you, drowned you, made you push for more.

It was a kiss that lasted who knows how long, but by the time you had separated, you could feel the familiar sting to your slowly swelling lips and the song that had ended.

His eyes were a near black, his cheeks flushed, and his arms kept you so close you had to think if you were in the privacy of your home or in public.

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice begging, pleading for him.

“I need you,” he responded, his voice equally wishing.

“Take me home,” you speak, lips pressing sloppy, desperate hot kisses to his neck. “Take me home and fuck me.”

“Fuck, yes, okay. Let’s go,” Shouto pants, his hands leaving your ass and grabbing onto one of yours before taking you and dragging you away.

It wouldn’t hit you until much later, but the very first kiss you had ever had with Shouto was in the middle of a dance floor, at a party where the male population had been ready to snatch you up after your relationship with Shouto was so-called over.

You were breathless.

No matter how deep you inhaled, you felt like you weren’t having enough oxygen flooding your veins, filling your lungs. You laugh loudly in the night, uncaring about the strangers you passed looking at you and Shouto, who chuckled and snorted with every giggle you made.

This felt crazy, insane, something serendipitous and not real even in the smallest of bits.

He kissed you.

He wanted you.

He said he needed you.

Wants and needs were different things, but he said need.

He needed you.

Just you.

Your feet ached from the running, but you could only focus on Shouto, your mind filling and swimming in the memory of his body pressed to you. The way his lips ghosted over your neck, and the way he danced against you — with you. The four-block walk back to your apartment seemed too far, and your eyes locked on a nearing alleyway.

With much more strength than you should have, you shoved Shouto into the alleyway, your mouth immediately pressing onto his.

Shouto groaned into your mouth, letting you drink his noises as you pulled him close, consuming him in a messy clash of teeth, spit, and tongue. You whined back, your legs slotting between his thigh and grinding down on the hard muscle. It alleviated the growing, scorching heat in your panties but also intensified it, making you want for more and more and more.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Shouto groaned in your mouth, shifting and guiding your rolling hips his thigh better, more fluid, more intense.

Your eyes barely cracked open, your mouth no longer kissing him put pressing against his in an open mouth pant. Your drunken breath saying nothing but implying the world.

Something Shouto was more than keen on giving you.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered for you to hear, so reverent, so holy. And so that you, the center of his world, the only thing he saw and believed in, knew how passionately, how ardently he believed in you, his mouth slid down your neck, and his teeth sunk in your flesh. He claimed you, praised you, making you a part of him.

“I’m still so mad at you!” you moan, voice pitched, whiny, and deliriously high. “I love you, asshole. I love you, and you sleep around! I love you, and I don’t care if you sleep around, but you care that I sleep around?!”

“I love you too,” Shouto mumbles against your neck, his teeth continuing to press into your skin that seems to explode with heat at the revelation. “I love, and I’m an idiot; I’m so sorry.”

And then he does something with his tongue against your neck, the soft of swipes, the wet tickling heat making your head slam back against the brick wall, and a mangled, strangled moan of unadulterated want emits from you.

“We'll talk about this in the morning,” you pant, fingers fisting in his shirt. “We can fix this, but right now, shut up and fuck me.”

“Y/n—”

“I’m horny,” you interrupt, hips sharply jutting into his leg. “You made me horny. Take responsibility.”

His eyes flashed dark, his nostrils flaring, and your words cemented in his head. He resumed his painting, his worship on your neck as you cried loudly in the alleyway, desperate, needy for more.

It was dizzying to have him on you like this.

For so long, you had only touched him in a few ways, had only ever felt a specific type of warmth. But this was unlike anything you’ve ever done with him, to him. It felt like you were burning and freezing, consumed by heat and energy and everything Shouto. His all too familiar cologne filled your nose, drowning your brain, invading your senses. His frantic heartbeat felt against your own body, telling you exactly how you were affecting him, how you made his heart speed and jump with every breathy whine.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. We need to get home now!” Shouto growls, his hands grabbing you by the wrist yet again and pulling you away.

His strides are long, quick, and powerful. You’re running to keep up, beautifully out of breath, staggering and stumbling to keep up in his objective to get back to the apartment now.

It doesn’t seem to take long before he’s pushing open the doors to the apartment complex, corralling you through the doors and into the elevator to get to the eleventh floor. The elevator doors are behind you, and with no one else in the life, you turn on him and immediately resume your own endeavor of claiming Shouto with your mouth, body, and soul. He matches your intensity, hands roaming from where the clasp of your bra sat to the curve of your ass. He grabbed you, pulled you in closer, the air in his nose staggering as you stammer against his mouth.

Teeth touch lips, tongues in each other's cheeks, and Shouto leads you out of the elevator backward, his one hand on your waist forever steady and the other one holding the key. Your fingers are back in his hair, pulling and tugging sharply on the soft, short strands with nearly disappeared gel. He gets to the door, fumbling with the key as you continue to kiss him, distracting him with the smallest of movements.

“Which room?” he asks against your mouth, pushing you through the threshold, his foot closing the door behind him.

The shoes are haphazardly kicked off and you’re now on your tiptoes to continue kissing him as you were. You tried to think, tried to figure out if you wanted to be surrounded by Shouto’s scent or to have him displayed in your room. His teeth then suckle on your bottom lip, biting down on the swollen, hot flesh just gentle enough that your mind draws a blank and your voice responds on its own.

“Mine.”

You shriek then, Shouto swiftly picking you up off the floor and you panic, hands swatting and beating on him as you scream to let you down. He continues walking, holding you without a worry, his arms remaining strong and firm beneath you. But with your distraction, with your lips no longer pressed sinfully against his, Shouto’s mouth finds a junction point on your clavicle and sinks his teeth down again, claiming you once more.

“S-Sho—” your voice hitches, the feeling too intense for you to process all at once. You hear your room door open and close, and without warning, you’re soaring through the air before collapsing on the bed.

“You think I go to the gym to get muscles for fun?” Shouto taunts, his fingers hooking under the dark grey t-shirt he’s wearing. “Angel, I go to the gym to make sure I can fuck you in any position, against any surface or wall you want.”

Your body feels like it's scorching as he removes his shirt, his muscles rippling and moving seductively with the devious, intentional movement.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Shouto asks, the shirt dropping to the floor, removing all traces of oxygen from your person. He steps closer, fingers circling around your ankle and suddenly pulling you in toward him until you were sitting at the edge, his lips hovering over yours. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your tongue feels dry in your mouth, but your eyes narrow before you push up and capture his mouth back with yours. He kisses you back deeply, bending down so that you begin to shift backward, allowing him the space to crawl onto the bed with you, and at the last moment, your leg wraps around his waist and spins the both of you. Shouto gasps as you pin him onto the mattress, your tongue invading his mouth, brushing and swirling against his, coaxing his own tongue back into your own mouth. With the wet heat in your mouth, your teeth playfully, just gently dig into his appendage and tug.

“No, but it seems like I got yours,” you humor him, your teeth releasing his tongue, and Shouto looks up at you like you were both the sun and the moon, and the stars were a gift to him.

It takes your breath away.

Shouto grins, shifting onto his elbows so that he’s closer to you before kissing you again.

The kiss is growing louder, both your mouths ever so consuming, trying to relay years of repressed, unknown emotions and feelings within a drastic, incredible touch. Your hips begin shifting against his crotch, humping his clothed erection, demonstrating yet again the power and grace you hold in your body.

Shouto’s hands move from your ribs up to your breasts, and with the hot, rough flesh of his skin, he squeezes your tender flesh. You moan into his mouth, hips bucking wildly against him at the sensation. It isn’t a powerful flesh, but a reminder, a demonstration of just what and where he could inflect passionate actions.

Your hands scour his chest, fingernails dragging teasingly down his firm, developed muscles, fingers flicking and teasing at his own exposed nipples. Shouto grunts into your mouth, hips bucking powerfully upward into your clothed cunt, and you splutter at the power behind it. But it seems as though Shouto is over the fishnet mesh shirt and crop top you’re wearing because he’s tugging it out of the waistband of your jeans and commands in a deep, lust-ridden voice: “Off.”

Goosebumps flash across your skin, bubbling and spraying across your sensitive skin as your shirt and crop top join Shouto’s on the floor. Your gasp loudly when Shouto rolls the both of you over swiftly, his mouth immediately pressing hot, viper kisses on your breasts. All thought and reason leave your mind as his teeth nip and pull. His fingers pushing the straps of your bra off your shoulders and shoving your boobs out of the bra in a firm hold.

“You have no idea how fucking long I’ve wanted to touch you, kiss you, fuck you,” Shouto whispers, his tone almost dark as his hot air fans against your already pebbling nipples. “Fuck, angel, you’re better than anything I’ve ever dreamed about.”

You whine loudly, fingers tangling in his hair as you desperately, wordlessly try to persuade him to put his lips around your attentive, eager nipples.

“I always forget you got these things,” Shouto says in wonder, his fingers touching the metal bars sitting so innocently, deviously on through your nipple. He tugs on the bar, and all the nerves in your breast fire and tingle, and your feet curl by his back as you whimper. “Fuck... I can’t believe I forgot…”

“S-Shouto, I fucking swear!” you almost screech, hands desperately pulling at strands of red and white, wanting his teeth and tongue and the suction of his mouth on your nipple. “Stop. Fucking. Talking!”

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Okay,” he says cheekily, and as if he read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your all too ready nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, clacking against the metal in your flesh. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, although you have no idea what you’re begging for. Your hips pathetically grinding into his clothed cock, trying to get yourself to cum while not having been touched. “Sho— Shouto!”

Shouto pulls away from your nipple with a loud pop. His breath panting, short, and overwhelmingly strained as if simply sucking your throbbing, needy nipple had given him the same amount of pleasure as it did you before consuming your forgotten one. Just as before, you melted against him, begging please, pretty please to him but never telling him what you were wanting. You didn’t know what you were wanting.

But unlike before, his hands leave their attentive position on your free nipple and slam your hips back down onto the mattress, keeping you down and still as he continued his ministrations until you were nipplegasming. You choked as the orgasm consumed you, your body going rigid and your eyes rolling to the depths of your head as his hot mouth was all you could think of. For a moment, the needy wet heat between your thighs was easily ignorable, something unneeded until Shouto was pulling away and kissing you again.

His chest was pressed tight against your own chest, your sensitive, overstimulated nipples rubbing against his chest with the welcomed friction as you let out a wordless, near-dizzy sigh into Shouto’s mouth. He kissed you with incredible passion, with dizzying heat, and consuming lust.

Your voice was so small, your voice easily drowned in Shouto’s mouth as your fingernails dug into his back and raked down pathetically, desperately proving that you were still here. Still fighting him on just who would win this night. Your fingers went down the curve of his spine, trailing down until you found the waistband of his sweats, and with his mouth everso distractingly on the swell of your breasts, biting, marking, and sucking hickies and his print on you for forever, he helped you slide the pants off.

In an almost dramatic fashion, his eyes burning deep into yours, leaving you stunned and a worshiper at his feet, he rose off your bed and let the pants fall. You shakily inhaled, your eyes suddenly transfixed and only seeing the hard, leaking dick that stood tall and proud against his twitching stomach. At the mere sight of him, you now truly, completely, and entirely understood just why the girls were obsessed.

From tip to the base, he was thick, the flush of his skin gorgeous, the curve of his cock optimal to fuck anyone. He was long, thick, and delicious—trimmed pubes of red and white and balls that had your mouth watering and going dry. You wondered, imagined, tried to visualize just how much it was going to hurt getting that in you. You’ve never had a man with a dick like that, never had to choke or fuck on something that looked like it would possibly render you stupid the moment you were impaled.

“Can I?” you ask, ‘can I touch you? Can I suck you?’ go unsaid.

“You owe me one,” Shouto says, his words teasing if it wasn’t for the way his voice betrayed him with the eagerness, the want and inexplicable tell that says if you don’t touch him, he will lose his fucking mind. “Please, do it.”

You’re dragging him back onto the bed, sitting him by your headboard, spreading his legs apart as you situate yourself between them. With a tentative, shaky hand, you reach out and grab on his dick.

His flesh is hot to the touch; it's hard and twitches just so at your grasp. Shouto lets out a gasp mixed with a whine, and you look at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Unable to help yourself, you lean in, your nose touching the underside of his length and nuzzling into the flesh. You look back up at him with hooded eyes, eyes dark with mirth, lust, and an overwhelming need to please Shouto. He stares back, eyes entirely too bright, almost scared, almost as if he can’t believe this is happening.

You smile softly, eyes breaking contact to look at the swelling cock in your hand, and then back at him as your tongue pokes out of your mouth and puts a long, wet stripe against his length.

And Shouto?

Shouto moans like a man who’s had warm food after days of starving.

You lick from base to tip, saliva mixing with precum as your mouth presses teasing, open mouth kisses down the length of his cock, tongue pressing against the sweltering heat of his balls.

“Fuck, y/n, stop teasing,” Shouto grits, his hips pathetically snapping into nothing, his hands desperately trying to touch you, to which you swatted him away each and every time. You tut, shaking your head. With both your hands fisting his dick at the middle of his length, your squeeze and pull in opposite directions.

The reaction is one that you were hoping for, Shouto’s head slamming to the headboard with a clash, his legs jumping just a bit, and precum coming out in even heavy drops. You laugh breathlessly at his display, enamored with how fucking easy he is to get to make noises. He’d never made noises before, no other girl had him the way you did, and that made you crazy with power.

Before you wanted to, your mouth consumed to head of his cock, allowing the musky smell that was completely and only Shouto to fully consume you. You sucked on his thick swollen head, tongue pressing on the leaking slit on his head as he choked on your name. You smile, taking him in further, straining against the weight in your mouth, the pressure on the back of your throat, and the stretch of your throat. As soon as you had him a bit way in, you were pushing out, his hips driving to find you but missing you. Shouto’s noise was almost broken, near needy, and your head spun with his noises. Unable to stop, you pushed in again, allowing the drive of his hips to send his cock further down your throat.

Tears filled your eyes at the action, his cock much too large, much too thick to be fucked into your throat as such. Your fists acted as a barrier as you adjusted, your throat humming, mouth moaning as Shouto lost himself to the heat of your wet mouth. You bobbed your head, fucking him diligently and intently with your mouth, driving him further down, your tongue and hollowed cheeks. You sucked his dick with the intention of ruining him, of making him fill your mouth and throat with him so he could never doubt that it was him you wanted, him you needed to consume. You let go of one hand, allowing it to fondle with his balls as his cock went further into your mouth, the sounds of your choking, gagging, and crying egging him on.

“You take me so good,” Shouto sang to you, whispering words that only you’ve heard. “Fuck, angel, take me all the way. I know you can do it.”

With his hands at the back of your head, your fingers squeezing his balls, and the shaky removal of your final hand on his cock, he drives his hips all the way up. Shouto curses loudly, and you choke, feeling the rush of cum shooting down your throat, and you’re let free.

“Swallow it all, don’t spit it up,” Shouto breathes, his body shifting upward, eyes intent, focused. “Let me see.”

You cough violently, mouth closed as you swallow the salty cum, only letting your mouth open to allow the drool and spit to drip from your flat tongue as you show him that you swallowed every last seed. He groaned, grasping you by the chin and pulling you back in for a passionate, all-consuming kiss. The taste of Shouto and his cum sat heavily in your throat, and you were shaking as he began to unbutton your jeans, shedding them off of you as he flipped you back around so that your back was resting against the mattress.

Salt sweat dripped down your neck, and Shouto left fingertip bruises on your waist, your knees and legs awkwardly kicking as you finally got your jeans off your ankles. You shuttered, feeling Shouto’s hot, spit-slick dick pressing against your stomach, your cunt flipping and twisting at the thought of taking him all in.

“You’re still, fuck… you’re still hard?” you gasp, Shouto’s fingers tracing the innards of your thighs, scratching at your ass, slapping it once, twice, leaving you pitched and shaking.

“How can I not be when you’re down beneath me?” Shouto asks, his eyes looking at you as if he was burning the very naked image to you in his brain for him forever. “You’re mine, right?”

The question itself, while unexpected, was not unwanted.

You feel yourself nodding, your fingers scratching up his flexed arms, “Yours and only yours.”

“Good,” Shouto smirks, leaning in, his entire weight on the one hand beside your head, making you groan as his lips were so close yet so far away. “I’m yours as you are mine.”

With that, his fingers pressed to your thus far, unattended to clit, your legs shaking, kicking the air as you howled in pleasure. But it was such an intimate place, something you never expected Shouto to ever touch, and so, in a voice so pathetic you couldn’t even recognize it as yours, you screeched: “D-Don’t touch that!”

Shouto cocked an eyebrow, his head tilting as his fingers swirled around your swollen nub, sending just enough electrifying pleasure through every neuron in your body. “Why not?” he asked, voice authoritative and curious and sadistic. “It’s mine — you’re mine. I can play with what’s mine whenever I want.”

The words make your entire will collapse, the words liquid heat in your ears and mind. You moan loudly, feeling Shouto adjust your hips, lining your spasming cunt with his cock, and with his tongue delving into your mouth, his lips pressing against yours, he slowly pushed into you.

Shouto was loud the entire way into you, the deep grunts, breathless moans, and mindless babble of how this was unlike anything he’s had before, better than anything he’s ever imagined. He bottoms out quickly, hands leaving purple bruises against your skin as you lay on the bed silent.

Your back is entirely arched, jaw slacked, voice dead on your tongue because the feeling of him buried deep within you is staggering. You let out a single tone noise, your mouth gasping for breath as your voice finally begins to come back to you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper over and over, your legs tight around Shouto’s hips, shaking with the feeling in you. “God, y-you’re so big, Sho… I’m—”

You can’t finish your sentence because he shifts just enough that his cock is meeting places in you that had never been encountered before. Your eyes roll back again, your fingers pressing ruby red scars to his back as you scratch and tear his back.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Shouto pants, his mouth panting against the sweat on your collarbone, his own breathing heavy and spaced. “You’re perfect, y/n, so fucking perfect.”

You preen with those words, your mouth finding a home at his temple to which you kiss him, drag your lips down to his ear. You bite and nibble as you adjust to him buried deep within you. And he heaves a sigh and pushes up off you, eyes daring to stare into you as he huffs almost in disbelief of this entire night.

“I’m going to start moving,” he says, fingers scratching down your sides to your thighs. “Are you ready?”

Not trusting your voice, you nod. Shouto smiles, leaning back down for one last kiss to which you quickly returned, staying there as his hips moved backward before thrusting back into you. It's the first thrust of many, but your arms wrap even tighter underneath his own, your nails scarring his back as he goes again and again. You fucks into you deliberately, readily, with purpose and skill that speaks wonders and lives up to the many rumors you’ve ever heard.

His thrusts are powerful, slapping into your thighs with a mighty smack, making you whimper and wail into his salty neck as your hips lift up to meet his. It's a powerful dance, a dizzying cycle. His cock sliding up and down your puffy velvet walls, your weeping walls clenching him in a vice, unforgiving and unwilling to let go.

He speaks praises into your ear, your yours, your mouth.

“Such a pretty angel, moaning for me, crying for me, tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me buried in your fucking stomach.”

You are converted to him in return, seeing him, speaking to him, devoted to him.

“Fuck, I want you more. Faster, harder! Don’t stop! I can feel you in my stomach, Sho! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me fuck me!”

His weight is pressed on your thighs, spreading your thighs further apart, fucking into deeper, fucking you so powerfully, so desperately your soaked cunt squelches and drips your essence, soaking your bed and his legs. Your teeth sink into his skin, copper filling your mouth, and your vision feels missing as you are slamming your hips up, rolling them desperately to fuck back into him. You can feel his hand clutching yours, pressing it into the mattress as he somehow speeds up again, drilling you into the mattress, the bed creaking and bending under both your weight.

“More, more, more!”

And he gives, and gives, and gives.

You wail his name, the heat in your skin, tickling your clit and innards making you sweat, the alcohol on your skin sticking you to Shouto.

Shouto grunts your name, hisses your name, damns you heaven and back for having such a fucking grip on him. It's when he looks into your eyes, cock drilling into you at a speed and power that no human should ever obtain, one hand gripping yours and the other pinching and teasing your clit, you cum, bursting open at the seams.

Your orgasm is loud, clenching, all-consuming, and you drag Shouto down with you as he stammers, shudders, and cums deep within your womb. His seed spilling out of you as the both of you collapse onto the bed with breathless, thoughtless minds.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Right?” you chuckle.

And with your nose pressed to his sweaty, sex-lulled body, you fall asleep with his hands traveling up and down your spine. Hopefully, things would be well when you woke up.

P R E S E N T

To stop you from screeching so loudly you woke up the entire world, Shouto held his hand to your mouth, his eyes wide, terrified, and completely confused.

“Please stop yelling… my head hurts…” Shouto begs, his face completely exhausted but with that post-orgasm sleep glow.

“We had sex?!” you shriek, throwing his hand off your mouth. “We were mad at each other, and we had sex?!”

“Oh,” Shouto seems to remember, his head rolling before he sat up, bringing you up with him. “Right, we should talk about that, huh?”

“You think?!” you shriek, entirely overwhelmed with the fact that you had done so much embarrassing shit last night.

It’s quiet for a bit. The birds chirping outside an almost cheerful taunt as the both of you, for the first time in seventeen years, find it too awkward to talk. No one wants to speak first, to mention the elephant in the room, for once it happened, there really was no going back. Not that there was much to go back from.

“I’m in love with you,” Shouto finally says. It’s an admittance, a whisper that's strong despite it told in such a hushed voice as if you would laugh at him as he confessed. “I’ve actually been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Now that shocks you.

Your eyes are wide, and you’re staring at Shouto, unsure what to say, what to ask, but you know you need more answers.

“I know, hard to believe, huh?” Shouto chuckles, his hand running through his sex and sleep disheveled hair. “It’s true, though… I don’t remember not ever being in love with you.”

“No… no way,” you say, your body running cold, and you shiver. You remember then that you’re sitting up, and you’re very incredibly naked. Shouto notices and moves to grab a blanket at the foot of the bed and wraps it around you. “That doesn’t make sense,” you argue, your furrowed brows making your skin crease as you try to think back on all your years and memories, looking for signs in which Todoroki Shouto loved you. “You never showed it.”

“Camie said the same thing,” Shouto sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged nonchalantly. “Before I was sixteen… I don’t know; I guess I could understand why. I only ever talked to you, always paired up with you. I let you hold my hand, and I let you hug me… I thought me telling you that I had never been kissed before would make you want to kiss me, but it never did. I know I was awkward and a little different when we were younger, so when I was paired up with Camie… I thought she would help me.”

“By fucking you?” you asked, your frown deepening as you remembered your bitter feelings over Camie stealing Shouto’s virginity.

“She… she said that by being sexual, maybe you would see me as a man, and not the four-year-old crying boy in preschool,” Shouto smiled sadly, his fingers picking at one another. “Me having sex was supposed to show you that I was a man who wanted to see you as a woman in return, but it didn’t work.”

“Well, no shit,” you snort, relaxing a bit although you felt limp. You found yourself leaning against Shouto’s strong shoulders, your head landing heavily on him. “You went from a virgin to fucking anything with a wet hole.”

“...yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Shouto said with regret, his shoulders sagging just a bit. “At first, I thought I needed to fuck more girls to prove I was a man to you because you acted like nothing had happened after Camie… but sex was fun, it felt good.”

“Sex is good,” you agree with a soft chuckle to which he returned.

He shifted a bit, arms tightening and relaxing before he finally admitted, “It helped distract me from you because you looked at others the way I wanted you to look at me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back.

“No, don’t be,” Shouto speaks firmly, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was my fault. I was never assertive enough, confident enough to simply confess.”

“So, does you being in love with me having anything to do with you driving the entire male population away from me?”

Your eyes look up at him, finding his embarrassed gaze before he glances away.

“That actually wasn’t intentional… I guess I just talk about you a lot.”

“Yeah, but still doesn’t mean you couldn’t ever deny it yourself!”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Apologize then.”

“Y/l/n Y/n, I am sorry for making the entire male population we’ve ever come across think we were an item and not telling them otherwise. I am sorry for keeping you from enjoying sex while I continued to. I am lousy, and my love for you should be unreturned because that was ass of me.”

You sigh, your lips pursed to keep from smiling as you looked back at his handsome face.

“Now, ask me the damn question, crybaby.”

“Crybaby?”

“You finally admitted that you were, in fact, crying!!!!!”

If you asked Shishikura Seiji what the worst thing about being the third roommate to Todoroki Shouto and you was, he would give a million and three answers as to why it was the worst.

One: he absolutely hated how loud the both of you were. Todoroki Shouto was someone he thought was quiet and introverted, but whenever he was around you, he was loud. You were just plain old loud, and he thought it was annoying.

Two: he absolutely hated your rice. Call it petty, but after you fed him on his first night and tried putting him into a chokehold for saying the song your rice cooker sang at its end was the stupidest fucking thing ever made, everything you made taste like ash and dirt.

Twenty: he hated that there were biweekly karaoke nights. He would be studying away in his room and wanted to die when he heard the all too familiar sound of Mamma Mia’s Here We Go Again blasting in the living room.

Hundred fifty-seven: SO. MUCH. FUCKING. SEX.

Three hundred thirteen: SO. MUCH. DRINKING.

Five thousand: SO. MUCH. WEED.

Ten thousand three: you put his toilet seat up whenever you’re drunk, so he falls in when he goes to pee in the morning.

Five hundred: the way the both of you looked at each other, fucking disgusting.

To say the least, there were a lot of many different reasons scaling from actual issues to petty small shit, but Shishikura was not in any position to find a new apartment, so he stayed. To be quite honest, having been living with Dumb and Dumber (you and Shouto, respectively), he only thought there would be one thing that would make him lose his actual mind.

The day that would inevitably come and the both of you realized your feelings were, in fact, returned. He didn’t want to even imagine how the animalistic sex he often had to hear coming from your hallway would increase, or the sappy stupid romantic love he would see in the living room because as best friends, you both had no care for PDA and if you were allowed to kiss? Allowed to have sex? He feared he would have to wear a hazmat suit in every corner of the apartment. You both were already incredibly loud as a duo (see reason one as to why he hates living here); he feared the worst when the mutual love was realized.

But he exited his room a week after that Sunday morning with a fully loaded water gun just in case. His eyes narrowed, the hair on his neck raised as his beady eyes focused in on the living room.

Shouto sat on the couch, his back on the armrest, and you sitting between his thighs as you watched him play some game on his Switch, your smile large and annoyingly bright, but he realized that he couldn’t hear you screaming or speaking so loudly he could listen to the conversation.

No, as a matter of fact, Shishikura couldn’t hear a single word; the words being exchanged between you and Shouto spoke so softly, so intimately, it shocked him. Shishikura noticed with an almost awed surprise that even though your smile was as annoyingly bright as before. It wasn’t directed at anything but Shouto, and Shouto’s smile, while nowhere near as big, just as warm and full to you.

It was intimate, romantic even.

Nothing had changed in your relationship except now, finally, now, you were allowed to kiss and fuck each other like heat-driven animals.

Shishikura was shocked to his core, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

You nor Shouto paid him any mind, too lost in the game and in each other to look his way as he made his way into the kitchen for his lunch. Shishikura set the water gun on the counter, a small smile spreading on his face despite himself, and chuckled.

Maybe the two of you together weren’t something to hate on after all.

“Hey, is that a water gun?!”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

[akaashioppa]

Promise Me?

pairings: baji keisuke x reader

summary: Baji promised you that you would have a great night. You, him, and Toman. He was out to have a good time too until the drugs came into play.

warnings: baji using drugs, curse words, angst, mentions of blood and teeth pulling. DONT DO DRUGS!

w/c: 1.6

a/n: Baji is a sweetheart and i know he’ll never do anything like this ☺️

A boy’s night was meant for the boys and only for the boys. The roaring sounds of the motorcycles, the blasting of the music did not go well with the anxiety that was soaring throughout your body. Baji being the crazy person he was, decided to bring you out to the club where all of the members of Toman would be.

You were standing near the game room with Baji’s hands firmly gripped around your waist. The sharp canines in his mouth were pressed against your delicate skin. The feeling of him kissing your neck all the way up to your ear was making you weak. 

“Hey, I’ll be over there with the boys. You stay here with Emma.” He muttered into your neck, His husky breath invaded your personal bubble. The scene was making you intoxicated with him and you didn’t care. All of the worries about coming here tonight with the gang completely washed away once you saw that smile. He was actually happy and not grumpy for once. Usually, he was a pain in your ass with his sudden outbursts of rage or the way he’ll set something on fire just because he wants to. 

“Okay baby.” You tried so hard not to stutter but Baji’s hand would accidentally slip into your inner thigh. The haze you were caught in finally came to a halt when his warm aurora left you. He stood by your side with his arms draped lazily around your shoulders. 

“Yo, Emma, Watch my girl will ya?”

“It’s okay, I can watch myself, babe. Let her enjoy herself on the dance floor...Go with the boys.” You pushed him gently in the direction of the boys. That particular grin on his face caused your heart to skip a beat. It was the same grin he gave you when he first told you that he was in love with you. He also showed that grin when he was ready to rip someone’s head off of their shoulders but you didn’t mind. It was hot either way he showed it. 

“Okay...I got you...remember that.” 

“I trust you.” He walked off into the distance towards the bathrooms where two other men stood. It was quite odd of a scene since the other boys were in the arcade playing pool and cards. He was the only one in the dark part of the room...No, he would never do anything that could make you uncomfortable. He promised since the first day you guys met that he would never lay a hand on you or show you the demons within him. Baji always wanted to protect you from any danger that awaited and tonight was no different. He made sure that there was a member in every corner of the club so nothing would happen to you.

Emma’s cheerful scream broke you out of your thoughts, “Come on (Y/N) let’s go grab some food from the food bar I’m starving.”

“I could go for some sushi.” 

You walked off from your spot with Emma’s hand in yours. There was a creepy feeling in the air, it’s been there since Baji left your side. He wasn’t with the boys which caused you to feel tense. Another reason was that he was still back there with those boys who now had something shoved up their noses. It looked as if they had tiny shovels in their noses.

‘There’s no way’

“Hey, Emma, Do yo-” 

The sopping feeling of dressing on your clothes helps you come to a rest. You looked down to see that there was a big stain on your shirt. The person who did it stood in front of you with a look of fear.

“I’m so sorry, let me help you!” The man in front of you launched into action, he fearfully began to wipe your shirt down with the paper towel in his hand. The crowd around you only grew from curiosity. You tried to speak, you tried to get him to stop but the words that were processing in your head wouldn’t allow you to speak them.

Emma grabbed you from the scene. She caught the signal that you were giving out. It wasn’t hard to miss since you stood there in complete shock. “We might need some water. Here there’s a family restroom. maybe we can use the water there.”

“Don’t I know you from somewhere? I think we went to the same middle school.” The man asked, you took a long look at him before you realized where you had seen him from.

“Yeah...Aren’t you Haruto?”

“Yeah, that’s me. I’m still as clumsy as ever.”

“It was a complete accident. You don’t have to worry, I'm sure Emma has a spare top in her bag.” You waved him off, he seemed much calmer now that you were almost clean.

Bang

The bathroom door was kicked in. Baji stormed through the door with two unfamiliar guys with him. He completely ignores you so he can grab Haruto by his collar forcing his head into the mirror behind him. “So you’re the culprit huh? What the fuck is your deal?”

“Baji! Put him down, it was an accident.”

“An accident huh? Look at you, you’re covered in shit.”

Baji threw Haruto across the room. He scanned the room until he found the perfect weapon, pliers. He snatched the tool from under the sink making sink water spray out everywhere. You watched in horror, the laughter from the other guys encouraging him to continue his menacing antics, it did not make the situation any better.  

“Can you please stop? You’re creeping me out.” Your voice was barely a whisper but it came out the stern. He seemed to have heard you cry out for him. His whole demeanor changed...he has more of a sinister feel to him.

“Why do you want me to stop? He needs to be taught a lesson. If not, then he will think that he can do it again.” He stood over Haruto with the pliers in his hand. He gave him a few kicks in the ribs just to toy with him. Emma tried to drag you out of the restroom but you stayed to face him.

He wiped his nose for the third time since he’s been here. This time a drop of blood followed behind it. You have been counting, ever since he left your side to be with those boys you have been observant of him. His sloppy posture, dilated eyes, his erratic behavior, and now he was having more mood swings than normal.

You tried to force the pressure that was forming in your throat away. You had to be strong, there were too many people out there that wanted to test you because they thought you were too weak to be Baji Keisuke’s girlfriend. So you put some bass in your voice and took a step forward. 

“Are you fucking high right now!?”

He smirked, “What does it look like, baby?”

“You son of a bitch” You scoffed, you marched your way over to him giving him a firm slap across his face. A gasp could be heard from the background. You and he both knew that all of Toman was here to see what was going on. 

“You promised me that you wouldn’t go to the extreme when it came to drugs! Look at you! You look like a fucking junkie, your fucking nose is bleeding and you don’t even care.”

He said nothing.

You reached down to grab the pliers only to be stopped by him. His strong grip from his hand wrapped around your wrist. “Get the fuck away from me”, he snarls.

You stare up at him and say nothing. The disbelief of him grabbing you and saying you engulfed your entire state of mind. He promised. You could only look into his dark orbs to see if he was actually being serious. It was no use, that demon he told you about was consuming him for the worst.

“You promised me that you would protect me tonight and yet you’re doing the most harm.” You placed a hand on his chest to feel his erratic heart beat. You knew what the white substance could lead to. His could actually burst if he got too excited.

He snatched your hand away from his chest,“I am protecting you! If only you’ll allow me to do my fucking job!”

Your hand was ripped away from Baji’s. It wasn’t him nor you.

Mitsuya pulled you into an embrace back from Baji. “The fuck is your problem Baji! Don’t you ever yell at a female like that! What the fuck!? Is this how you treat the woman you claim to love!?”

“What? You’d really think I’d hit a woman? I’m not your dad Mitsuya.” He stuck up his middle finger towards him with that annoying smirk on his face. “I’ll fucking kill you. Give me my girl.”

“I’m taking her home.”

You stood behind Mitsuya far away from Baji. You could see how badly he wanted to ruin Haruto. The blood lust in his eyes couldn’t fool anyone.

“Fine then. If that’s what she wants, take her home.”

“Don’t hurt him Baji. He didn’t do anything. Can you please just listen to me for once?” You were so emotionally drained from the situation that your words came out in a mumble. You knew what he was about to do. Your pleas would never get him to stop once his mind was already made up. 

He chuckled, turning his back towards you. The walked over Haruto again screamed that he would murder someone who got in his way. You sat there with a blank expression watching your boyfriend shove the pliers into Haruto’s mouth. No one dared to stop him, some watched out of pure enjoyment. 

 Mitsuya pulled you out of the bathroom before you could see your boyfriend in that state but you could hear his disturbing laugh and Haruto’s pleas for forgiveness.

“He’s too high to comprehend what’s going on right now. You’ll have to talk to him tomorrow.”

“But he promised me…”

#tokyo revengers #tokyo manji gang #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers fic #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers drabbles #baji scenarios #baji imagines #baji x reader #baji angst #baji keisuke #baji keisuke x reader #keisuke baji headcanons #keisuke baji imagines #takashi mitsuya #tokyo revengers mitsuya #mitsuya imagines #mitsuya fluff

[shoutoismybaby]

Omega Shame Part 1

Summary: After spending most of your life on suppressants and ignoring your second gender, you finally decide to embrace who you are with your alphas support. But what happens when your alpha Bakugou walks in on you nesting and sparks memories of your past trauma?

warnings: ABO, Nesting, ANGST ending with fluff,

***

Nesting. This was something you hadn't even attempted since you were but a small pup. Both suppressants and fear had kept any desire for this activity far away from you, until a couple months ago. That was when you got a courting proposal, your first ever.

It was a necklace, and not just your typical alphas 'just learned how to make jewelry with string'. No. This necklace required welding, a skill you had no idea about, but that just made sense for your alpha to poses. The chain was a simple silver, leading down to a locket with intricate holes on its top layer, creating an almost explosive like design. The cloth that sat inside was a ruby red color that matched the alphas eyes, and the scent it held was strong of caramel and ash.

Of course if Bakugou was to make a courting gift, his was going to be the best you had ever seen.

You had wasted no time in placing the necklace around your neck, relaxing as his scent filled your nose. It was from this point that you knew Bakugou would make an amazing alpha for you. After all, if he put so much effort into the courting gift, you could only imagine the effort he would put into courting you. Even then in typical Bakugou fashion, he passed all expectations.

It started with the way he would make you lunches, walk you to wherever you needed to go, and made sure to give you a thorough scenting only after he got permission. He always showed concern for your physical and mental wellbeing, stopping you from pushing yourself too hard in training and even scolding you for your self deprecating jokes.

“No one gets to talk down about my omega. Especially not my omega.” He had growled at you once. Again Bakugou did something unexpected, making your omega purr at a growl.

It felt so nice to have someone who cared about you. Someone who encouraged you to stop hiding your second gender from everyone but those in your own class. Not that you had even let your class discover on purpose, but the stressful situations class A had gotten in over the years did wonders for wearing off suppressants and scent blockers. 

He, along with your other classmates, had been building up your confidence in your secondary sex for years now. Bringing you to the realization that being an omega didn't mean that you were weak or any less than betas or alphas. Momo and Ochako were omegas after all, and they were some of the strongest people you knew. So once you had gotten an alpha your omega was basically begging to be set free, and you didn't feel like you had to deny it anymore.

So here you were, after 3 months of being off of the medications your hormones and instincts were finally leveling back to normal. It was something you had never experienced before, but you had Bakugou to help support you along the way. That's why you needed his scent in your nest. No matter how nauseous you felt walking into the young alphas room while you knew he was training, your omega refused to continue the day without at least one peice of his clothing. More than that and you were sure you would be sent into a panic attack. You had no idea how he would react to you doing this. Would he be disgusted? Angry?

Ironically the only thing calming your thoughts was to continue building the nest. Pillows upon pillows methodically shoved between various stuffed animals and blankets became nest shaped as the time passed. Soon enough you were left with just one item left, one of his favorite skull shirts. You had wanted to take something he would miss less, but they weren’t drowned in his scent like this one was. You sat back into the middle of your nest to take a thorough look around. You didn’t want to take too long to decide a place for it by now as you were getting tired. Not to mention you were going to go out on a movie date with Bakugou so you also needed to get ready for that. You would have checked the time if you weren’t so fixated on your task, and that would turn out to be a huge mistake.

You had finally found the perfect place for his shirt when you heard your door open from behind you. In the middle of slipping the clothing item over your pillow you froze as your heart began to race. Your omega knew it was an alpha before you knew who it was and she let out a chirp before you could stop it.

All you could remember was the first time this had happened, an Alpha walking in on your nest. You were seven, not old enough to even present as an omega but tendencies could show early in childhood. You were excited and happily humming as you arranged your blankets, stuffed animals, and your parents best smelling clothes into small yet sturdy walls in the shape of an oval on your bed. You couldn’t help but feel safe, like you would no longer fall off your bed in the middle of the night, or that monsters or other intruders would quickly avoid hurting you once they got just a single sniff of your parents alpha scents. You were proud when you were finished and immediately snuggled into it for a nap, only to wake up to the scent of rotting eggs. A clear indicator your father was both near and very angry. All the yelling and trashing of your hard work that happened next was just a blur. But you could remember how you felt the entire time so vividly. The way your lungs seemed incapable of taking in air, the trembling of your hands and especially the weakness in your knees. Most of all, you remembered the absolute terror as your safe space was invaded. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as fast as your heart would allow it, and you could only sit back and watch.

It was that day that you first became aware that there was something wrong with you. Something gross, weak, and worth hating.

That’s why even when the scent of Bakugou filled your nose, your heart still didn’t slow down. In fact, it only sped up when you finally turned around to look at him, all of the hope you had gotten by convincing yourself he would be happy you were embracing yourself quickly diminishing. His brows furrowed more than normal and his mouth was set in a deep scowl, slightly open just enough that his naturally large canines poked out.

He was angry.

“Do you not know how to answer your fucking phone?! You were so eager to force me to agree to this date and then you don't even respond when I-” Your thoughts were racing far too fast to actually hear what he was saying. Your omega could only think of one thing, your alpha was angry with you. You messed up and now he was angry with you. It was just like your parents, you should have listened to them when they told you it was stupid to nest.

But you had worked so hard on it, and it made you feel so good. You didn’t want your nest to be torn apart again. The smell of smoke wafted from the alphas' palms as you were too caught up in your memories to really hear him. Hear how he was angry with you for forgetting about your date, angry that you had stood him up and too busy being upset to even notice that you were sitting in a nest. The smell of smoke invoked just another event in your mind, one that happened when you had first presented as an omega at 13. Something that caused the damn behind your eyes to finally break.

“PLEASE DON’T DESTROY MY NEST” You Omega sobbed, distressed chips flooding from your chest like air. “Please, please!”

Your outburst startled the Alpha into silence. He could only stand there and watch as his omegas scent was filled with fear as she wiped at her eyes aggressively. A first he was confused, letting his body pump out comfort pheromones instinctually as he let himself observe the situation. You were dressed only in your school uniform, clearly having been building the nest that surrounded you from the time you entered the dorm room to when he had burst into your room, now far past dark. You were trembling too, body curled up in on itself as you hiccupped and begged.

“Please, I'm sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorryyy! Just please dont destroy my nest.” Your voice cracked and it resonated painfully in his ear and his heart dropped. Why did you think he would destroy your nest? Sure he wasn't the best alpha but he wasn’t a monster. Did you really think he would destroy the one place where you felt safest? A weight grew in his chest that left as a deep growl,

“Here.” He growled, “Probably best if we just end this bullshit.”

This was all your fault. If you hadnt built this stupid nest in the first place, or even started crying like a fucking baby then this wouldnt have happened. But you were a weak omega, and just like your parents said, no one can love someone so weak. Especially not someone as powerful as Katsuki. You shouldn’t have let yourself believe that they were wrong for even a second. You had thought that Bakugou would be the one who would love you for who you truly were. But that was naive. No one could love such a burden. No one could love you.

The drop of the crafted bracelet to the ground seconds before your door slammed, leaving you alone once more in your room, proof enough of that.

Your parents were right.

A flame of anger lit in your chest. Why were you so unloveable just the way you were? Why couldn’t you just be different? Why couldn’t you be an alpha like your parents had wanted?

You could feel your nails extend into claws as the hair on your body raised. You glared at the soft material weaved together around you as hot tears built up behind your eyes. This time instead of being fueled by fear they were fueled by rage and resentment.

You were so angry. So angry at youself, at your weak omega, and especially at your stupid nest. You couldn't help but let a couple tears fall as you let your anger get the best of you, and you didn't stop it until you were heaving in the middle of your disaster of a room. Surrounded by torn pieces of fabric and the other contents of your room scattered by your tantrum, you finally let yourself breath. 

You turned around to see the item you had been avoiding, your pillow with bakugou's shirt. With a deep breath you grabbed a hold of the object, digging your claws into its plush softness. The caramel ash smell that permeated the air only helped to break down the remaining bits of your anger. And you didn’t want to be left alone with your despair just yet.

With the release of your breath a ripping sound could be heard. The shirt split and cotton popped out from the opening like popcorn. Once you had successfully dissected what had been a comfort item you threw it somewhere away from you and took another deep breath.

Now you were finally alone. Just you and your reality. You could really feel how much pain your omega was in as your hair began to lower and your normal nails returned. You had heard about this pain before. A deep one in your chest, heartbreak. Your omega seemed to curl around that feeling. Of rejection. Self hatred. That no one would ever need you, let alone want you. You could feel yourself start to slip into the limbo of numbness and searing pain.

An Omega Depression.

You remembered learning about it back when you were in middle school, most people were beginning to present as their second sex. Your teachers had emphasized how important it was to get medical attention at the first signs, you knew how dangerous it was, but all you wanted to do was lay there on the floor. You were tired, and what was the point? No one cared about you, not your parents… not Bakugou. Your throat strained painfully at that thought. Bakugou didn’t want you, and it was your fault.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha omegaverse #bakugou katsuki x reader #alpha bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha omegaverse

[rsmrymnt-tea]

(lia) pls yell at me ab satan, just nice stuff in canon or devilgram or whatever that made u go oooh satan mlove<3 i said that specifically bc im more of a "stick to the canon" person hope u dont mind, but if there are headcanons that u rly wanna let out that's also fine♡

Oh my god… Well—

First off, he absolutely caught me off guard when he offered a pact the second time because what the fuck was that that oath? None of the others ever said anything like that and I had to put my phone down. And when Lucifer was teasing him as he was slowly getting flustered I was like oh… OH! Then later on, after MC and Beel come back and everyone was mad at them for having wanted to help Belphie get free as a motive behind them wanting a pact, Satan was the only one who wasn’t mad, and even encouraged them to go ahead and help Lucifer.

And then his confession!! Oh my god. To be the one being he’s known throughout his entire existence to have quelled the rage within him!! To finally help him feel what love is!!

And even before all those, there’s little moments that made me go ‘Oh?’ Throughout the story

- When he freely offers advice (and a bit of foreshadowing) that MC should go to Simeon for TSL help to prepare for the quiz against Levi

- At the very end of the scene during the retreat where Asmo pulls MC into Helene’s portrait, he seems so upset

- He himself seems rather disappointed that Lucifer stole MC away when during the dance part of the retreat

- That part of the Dogi Magi arc where he’s trying to get his intimacy level with MC up. This post explains my feelings about it (and some of the other stuff I mentioned here) better + that headcanon of theirs of him having a crush or at least a strong interest/curiosity about MC right away has me all shdjfkhd

- Something about his reaction in Ch 16 where he doesn’t completely quite celebrate that MC is Lilith’s descendant. He said that his happiness stems from him being born from Lucifer’s emotions and that made me go ‘huh…’ and had me thinking a LOT about how complex his feelings must actually be about Lilith an the fact that everyone’s so joyful about MC’s relation to her.

- His tutoring arc in S2 where you kind of… Have fun at the end each time ;) But also he’s so in his element that it’s not hard to be like oh my god… please../ You are so smart I love you and your brain

- Skipping right ahead to S3 but anytime he’s NOT talking about cats and instead has a moment to move his arc with dealing with his relationship with Lucifer

- Ch 50 hard mode where he doesn’t join his brothers outside because he doesn’t understand it when they talk about things he doesn’t understand… Heavily implying that they’re talking about their days in the Celestial Realm which he never was a part of

- Almost the entirety of Ch 51 and 52 honestly

- And ofc him facing his fears when they had to fight the boogeyman :((

But of course, the meat of what’s made me go ‘oh, my beloved!!’ about him are all in the Devilgrams and chats.

Let’s not forget that he’s very quickly one the first one to invite you out to go somewhere with him, just the two of you. I’m pretty sure his first 5 chats are all him asking MC on friendly/romantic dates however you wanna see it, then it slowly turns more comfortable and domestic with him trying to get them into a drama he likes and inviting them to watch with him.

(Granted, there seems to be an unlockable chat between him and Levi that implies he’s been using Seductive Speechcraft on them, but in the end it backfires and he falls in love plus I actually really enjoy that layer to him??)

Basically almost all his chats are like… *swoons* in some way either that or I’m just a fucking simp sdgsjhdfghj

- There’s that chat where he asks MC to come with him to the bookstore and then later he says it’s actually a date and asks if they’ll still go if it’s a date

- Him taking them out to dinner after confessing that he won the lottery

- Literally any time he asks MC to the art gallery I want to cry

- That time he gives them a book of spell so that MC can learn to defend themselves since he can’t be around them all the time, despite how much he wants to

- Each fucking time he signs off with that flying kiss sticker askdjgsdkjfghkdfg

This is an unlockable chat from his Ch A SSR ‘Be You,’ and honestly it felt so domestic like sdkhsdfkjgh And it’s a surprisingly long chat, I’ve just taken the beginning and the end here

Then for the Devilgrams—

- Indoor Camping where he and MC just chill in a tent inside Serenity Manor? Also it opened my mind up to how he’s just game to try anything out to see the appeal or if he’ll like it (also they go makeout while inside like hgghnghgng)

- A Teasing Gesture when literally… He basically stripteases and even asks what they want him to do… And tries to be hot and sexy, even pinning them to the bed (with their consent duh) and then he just… Falls asleep because he’s so tired from a long day ;w;

- His Seven Rules of Hell card where I honest to god get the feeling that he got himself and MC trapped in a closed bookstore on purpose for the chance to be alone with them and a bunch of books. This is less of a ‘mmmmm Satan, my beloved’ and more of a ‘Oh! Satan, my beloved, you are so fucking sneaky!’ And idk why but him going to that extent is so hsdghkdsfjg

- And in a similar vein, there’s Caves Require Caution where not only do we get confirmation that he works out and has abs, but he also fucking pulls a sneaky sneaky on MC and has the two of them stuck inside a cave for hours, just huddled up together??? And there’s something about it that kept making me think like… Are they going to do it in a cave??

- The Mysterious Box, which iirc was last year’s bday UR… The ending… Where all he wanted for his birthday was MC… And then depending on how you respond, its implied you get spicy………..

- And a more fun one, there’s I’ll Protect You where you get to see his strategic and intelligent side!! Idk it’s not really romantic (though they do kiss at some point) but it was such good fun to me?

- For You… Where it really shows that he knows jack about love and Valentines but he’s really trying :(((((

- A New Year’s Toast too where he takes MC out and gets an acquaintance who owns a restaurant to have a special menu for them so that they can celebrate New Year’s Eve together after the other brothers fucking brush them off for wanting to celebrate >:( Satan goes the extra mile for them here for their joy

- Also Romance For You??? Where he steps soooo far out of his comfort zone (and bonds with Levi which is nice <3) to learn how to cheer MC on with a light stick dance in a club

- Something To Tell You also has him and MC getting lost like 30ft away from the HoL and man something about it made me go awww… and Oh?? Because he’s willing to fool around in a forest agsjsha okay my guy

- Of course I can’t not mention Search for The Self where he opens up about his insecurities about his inferiority complex and identity crisis :((

- Same goes for Be You… Except we also get to see him go apeshit just a bit and my simping heart went :0 I love him

- AND THIS YEAR’S BDAY DEVILGRAM HELLO??? Saving the best for last because even thinking about it has me going nuts??? He has my whole fucking heart

#lia!! 💚 #chat & colloquy #obey me satan #okay this is short but I don’t think i can handle elaborating each one you gotta go see for yourself #And these are all just the ones I can name off the top of my head hnghgngnghgn i have a problem #gosh not me just enumerating as much as i can that has me feeling some kinda way about satan #sihghgighhg

[furiosity-wills-the-cat]

Chara, the fourth Blook cousin:

A crack theory that accidentally become way more serious than it should have because it somehow, despite my best efforts, ended up making sense

Brought to you by my idiot conspiracy brain (affectionate) and by encouragement from my Tumblr followers

Under the cut for the sake of your dashes and sanity

Ok here we go my very elaborate accidental theory, because in order to answer the complex questions simply you must first make simple things more complex or something

First, you need to know that Chara became a Blook cousin by adoption.

All of the Blooks are adopted.

Ghosts are not born into families, they make their own.

Got it? Great, because we’re about to start running

so first, im gonna make surprisingly uncommon claim in this fandom, and I am going to say that undertale ghosts are all dead

I’m taking the tiny details we know about ghosts and sprinting with them to new places

Ghosts also do not have souls I decided

Undertale souls do not work the same as souls in traditional mythology

So every ghost is soulless Unless and Until they become corporeal

Evidence: Monster souls cant exist without bodies, and ghosts are monsters, therefore ghosts cannot have souls without bodies

Further evidence: Asriel doesnt steal blooky’s soul, blooky is unkillable, we have no concrete evidence that blooky has a soul

What about mettaton? He only has a soul after he has completely committed to being corporeal and to a specific body.

Also maddy and mettaton are both only killable while corporeal

Im also connecting the dots we have about souls in a new creative way so let me live for a second

Additionally, i am going to claim that there are a lot more ghosts than just the blooks, some evidence given below

Theres like actual scientific knowlege of ghosts in the undertale verse which seems unlikely if theres literally only three or four

The underground is so much bigger than you think, theres that giant forest in snowdin, a large town in the ruins, the huge city of new home, who knows how much space in the large open areas of waterfall etc. Its really really big okay

Also based off evidence of blooky, we can conclude that ghosts can turn invisible whenever they want to and/or haunt objects to hide

So I personally think that ghosts are, generally speaking, extremely reclusive

And the blooks are just a special exception, a beautiful family, amazing for them

So anyway im going with typical ghost lore for now, for the sake of ease, so im gonna say ghosts generally come from monsters who are particularly restless or unsatisfied when they die

HOWEVER i dont think they remember being monsters or anything before being a ghost. They just kinda fizzle into existance with a fully formed personality and immortality while being unkillable and feeling vaguely uneasy

ALSO i personally think that chara was a ghost for a long time before they became a blook by adoption

Based on game lore, i think ghosts can possess any inanimate object and just kinda wear it? But it takes a lot of strong emotion to become corporeal

And chara is the super weird exception because they were a human not a monster.

They dont have a soul (i headcanon that their soul got destroyed when asriel died)

And they KNOW this, which is a huge part of why they kinda just... give up

Because they lost their ability to fulfill prophecy

Also, without a soul, they lost their ability to reset, so for the first time since falling underground, theyre subject to the relentless march of time

But theyre still weirdly strong and powerful and more emotional

ALSO they DO still remember being a human but they catch on pretty quickly that other ghosts dont have memories and because chara is stupid they just lie to fit in

Theyre too tired to explain themself, they just want to be alone and feel awful

Now back to ghost lore

Emotions are a lot harder for ghosts??? I decided

And they dont know why,, they tend to blame it on the soul thing

But realistically its actually more of the immortality thing making actions not have consequences and/or or not having a body so they cant have a sense of touch or have physical effects of emotion

They all know that ghosts just tend to be way more floaty and bored and numb

And thats part of why the blooks are so special

Maddy’s rage and Mettaton’s yearning and Napstablook’s misery are like... not great all of the time...

but theyre also way way more emotion than most ghosts have,,, they are just a family supporting each other, being as functional as they can,, just an emo(tional) ghost family

most ghosts barely do anything except like stare at walls but the blooks have their snail farm and that helps them have purpose and it is good

And they hold each other accountable and it is nice

So anyway chara just chills and is in a depression coma for a few decades before the blooks find them and are like “our child/baby cousin”

and they raise them for a cool minute

They are all very protective of the new baby emo blook

And chara doesnt get therapy but at the very least they once again have a family, and they decide they want to try to become corporeal eventually just like mtt and maddy

So anyway chara starts hanging out in the ruins a lot more and they finally tell the blooks theyre leaving to go become corporeal in the ruins

This is actually because they are trying to hang out with toriel

because they miss their mom ;;

but chara’s not gonna admit that to anyone, especially not to themself

And because theyre still repressing their emotions constantly and pretending to be fine, they cant become corporeal

And they hang out in the ruins for a long time because they feel guilty lying to everyone about everything

They still feel like its their fault that all the monsters are stuck underground, because they were SUPPOSED to save everyone and they COULDNT and it HURTS

But again, they are doing too much repression to use this guilt to become corporeal,

so instead they just kinda hide and watch toriel from a distance and cry

Blooky visits them the most, thats why blooky is chilling in the ruins so much at the start of the game

Theyre just there to visit their shy baby cousin ;;

Ofc they wont tell frisk about this because chara wants space and privacy and blooky respects that

but maddy and mtt also visit them a lot

Oh also when mtt and maddy start dissapearing, blookys mental health plummets as their family and support system starts to dissolve

Blooky was actually doing extremely well (for a ghost) for a long time, i headcanon,

but theyre doing the worst theyve been in a long long time during the game, because of family issues

So anyway, chara dissapears when frisk shows up, and maddy assumes this is becaude frisk hurt their fragile feelings

Maddy spends hours desperately searching the ruins for chara and cant find them and assumes that they had their heart crushed and went to hide and disappear in a depression coma for another few decades, and thats part of why maddy is so furious with frisk

Like,, to be clear, maddy is still jumping to conclusions and throwing blame around with no proof, but also, its a logical conclusion to come to

And mettaton has already disappeared too and been gone for a while, too, by this point, so it hurts even worse

But anyway, what actually happened to chara is that;

Because chara is a human ghost, not a monster ghost, normal ghost rules dont apply to them

And they can possess living things too they find out

Maybe they knew it a long time ago, maybe its a new discovery, but for whatever reason they end up possessing frisk and theyre like “what the heck”

And frisk still has most of the control

But now chara is like,,, “this is my chance, im a human again, gotta save the world for real,,,”

and they cant explain this to anyone without revealing their past

so they just chill in frisk’s mind while being super crypic and trying to figure out how it works

Pacifist route, this is pretty much exactly what happens

They manage to help frisk save the day

And in my headcanon, the no mercy route is started by frisk who is scared when faced by monsters attacking them

And then chara, who was aready hiding in a semidepression coma for a while, immediately transitions to a panicked “gotta protect this body, gotta protect my chance to be human, i died and threw away my chance to save everyone the first time, i CANNOT lose this chance again”

And so the combination of both frisk and chara is the genocide run

Because frisk kills in self defense, and whenever frisk hesitates, chara jumps in

Also theres leftover feelings from the whole asriel incident

Because again, ghosts come from monsters who died unsatisfied

And chara’s main source of unsatisfaction is how they were trying to get asriel to kill people before he died and then he didnt

So thats a strong strong feeling ruling them

So anyway by the time they both realize how bad its become they figure its too late and also the amount of LOVE has made them numb

And thats when chara who, despite everything, still has idiot hero complex and thinks they need to save the world

So, while panicking, they step in at the very end, and erase the timeline and delete everything

And also to clarify

They DONT HAVE this power at any other point in the game

Because, guess why

They become corporeal

Just like maddy, the no mercy route is the only thing that gives them strong enough emotion to spontaneously become corporeal

So they become corporeal and as soon as they have a soul again and can reset again, they just erase everything

Ok back to fluff

Post pacifist route, they are still a non corporeal ghost

They can still float around and look just like the other blooks

And it takes them a while to open up about things, but they do end up moving back in with blooky so that blooky isnt completely alone

And also they do way better with a family

Also they can float through the mountain and talk to flowey down below and bring him news

And now that they know about him, they can bond with him and explain that they dont have a soul either but that doesnt mean theyre worthless

Oh ALSO

The other dead humans dont have ghosts

BECAUSE

ghosts only come from restless dead MONSTERS

and chara is the weird special exception

Because they were a monster when they died

They became a ghost and asriel didnt because they were way more restless and stressed than asriel was when both of them died

Like sure, asriel felt awful, but chara was the one who was way more like “this is my fault, i CANT die now, the world NEEDS me”

So anyway

charablook the emo tween ghost and asriel flowey the eldrich goat daisy are siblings once more and they hang out and eventually they are okay and have a family again

Thank you for reading, this has been my thoughts on a crack theory that accidentally went too far

This isnt even everything, maybe i’ll make a part two eventually, but i promised to have this post out like two days ago, so i wanted to post SOMTHING

Anyway leave your thoughts if youd like

Im not looking for people to disprove it, i already know its crazy, i dont think it was intentional by the game writers, but i do think its a fun concept

thats the fun of it, so if anyone wants to run with it im all for it lol

Thanks again! Have a nice day!

#no mercy #as a warning tag #chara undertale #napstablook undertale #fic tag #meta #analysis #crack theroy #undertale #i didnt edit this very much #so if there are any major typos or parts that didnt make sense #or were illegible #feel free to let me know so i can clarify

[soulwillower]

taboos and the absurd iii • richie tozier

(professor richie tozier x reader smut)

requested: hi! i just finished reading taboos and the absurd, SUCH A GOOD SERIES. This is just some idea i had and im totally okay if u don’t want to do it, but would you write maybe a final part of the series when the reader finds out richie fucked more students (more than she though) and she gets upset and stops talking to richie (ridiculous jealousy) but he really was falling for her so he talks to her and well things get heated, and KDKDKD ok sorry if im too specific, hope u see this❤️❤️❤️🥰🥰 + hey omg i love the prof. richie series sm 🥵 if you plan on making a pt. 3 might i suggest reader giving richie head while hes giving a lecture and reader gets fucked on the table 😳😳 its hoe hours frfr + so many other requests to continue the series :)

warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), bad morals, abuse of power, dont fuck your professor, filthy stuff, professor richie, deepthroating, dirty talk, use of the word slut, cockwarming, unprotected sex, mentions of exhibition, a bit of degradation and a lot of praise, unedited as usual lol

[losers + reader are 20+ in this]

4.4k words

part 3 of taboos and the absurd series. sorry it’s been so long :) i wanted to surprise u a bit with a lil surprise for the holidays. i love u all!! <3

[ i  ii ]

 ♡

you hadn't been to class in almost a week and a half.

it was really bad, you know - and the ditching has started to affect your grade, but you don't even care as much as you really should. because you're.... extremely jealous.

yeah.

you'd first gotten suspicious the lecture after you stayed behind and ended up with professor tozier's dick in your hands. a girl was sitting on his desk after class, when you'd walked in to turn in a late paper, and richie had been twirling her hair. they were laughing together, her bare legs. it made you burn up, and so you tossed the paper down at the drop bin at the back of the classroom loud enough that he noticed you’d come in.

you were so mad you didnt stay to see anymore. and you didnt go to class for more than a week after.

it could have been just an innocent gesture, or maybe just some woman richie was dating - either way, you were beyond jealous. it filled you with rage to imagine richie fucking anyone else, let alone a student. you were hurt, too - because you've really started to like spending time with your professor.

but that backfired of course, because you’re in your apartment staring at an email from him.

i will be at my office on campus after hours this friday, until roughly 9:30. if you're available, i encourage you to stop by.

we have a lot to discuss regarding your grade and future in my class.

thanks,

professor richard tozier

you blink at the screen, your heart racing. your fingers shake slightly as you reach up to rub your temples - oh god, he wants to talk. he's going to turn you down, say it was a mistake, and fail you.

and in the few days until friday, your rage and fear meld together to make a jealous, ugly monster as you stalk up the empty corridors to his office, ready to speak.

it's late, probably around 8 when you knock on his door, but he's still there as promised, answering with a faint come in!

you walk in slowly, heart pounding in anxiety as you meet eyes with him for the first time in almost 14 days. your heart thumps hard still as he nods at you, "you can shut the door and take a seat, ms. y/l/n."

you swallow as you click the door shut and move to the chair, sitting down awkwardly and biting your lip. "hi, professor." you say, afraid your jealousy is going to spill from you if you say anything else.

"you haven't been in class."

you nod, "you noticed."

he sighs through his nose and leans forward on his desk. you clench your thighs - no getting turned on, y/n. not now. "of course i did. i'm your professor, ms. y/l/n."

"right, sir, i almost forgot. you just get so comfortable with all your students now, sometimes it's hard to remember." you bite, and his eyebrows raise. "some more than others." he adds, shooting you a look that you ignore, instead turning your stubborn gaze to the clock behind his curly head. you can nearly smell his cologne from where you sit, and you're almost drooling. you can't let him see it.

"what's going on? your grade is dropping. you’re not coming to classes." he says, sounding like he's concerned. you bite your lip, shaking your head as you look at him. "i'm not going to come to class just to watch you flirt with the girls and let them give you fuck me eyes."

"that's exactly what you do to me constantly, as i seem to recall." he bites back. you feel yourself turn red, but you sit forward more so you lean over his desk just like he is.

"whatever. i don't care, i'd just appreciate it if you'd tell me that you're going to fuck other students so i can leave. and not walk in on you right before you do so.” you say, suddenly so thankful you chose to come later when nobody was on this floor, the only other person in the building being the custodian sleeping at the front desk.

professor tozier tilts his head with a smirk, "oh, you're adorable. my jealous little slut, crying because she can't have me to herself."

your jaw drops, the remaining thin layer of professionalism gone the minute he opened his mouth. "fuck you, professor. i'm leaving."

"i wasn't finished." he says sternly, and something in his voice makes you sit back down. he looks mad and it's confusingly hot, your legs feeling like jelly because of your excitement. "if you weren't such a brat, you would have heard me say that i'm not fucking anyone else. student or not."

you stare at him, confused as your face reddens again. you're embarrassed. "but-"

"the woman you saw last week, when you came back after the lecture. that's professor marsh, she's one of my colleagues and best friends. she's also happily married." he says, sounding pissed off. "i'd appreciate some trust, it's not like i going around fucking every student who wants to open their legs for me - although plenty have tried." he says.

you feel yourself soaking through your panties. god you have problems,don't you? "i'm sorry sir, i-" you start but he shakes his head, standing up from his chair and walking towards you. you watch him with big eyes, as he clenches his jaw. "no, don't apologize. just know. you're the only one." he mutters as he crosses behind you.

you stare at his empty desk, face blushing at his words. the only one. the click of the lock on the door gives you butterflies, and then he's behind you, hand trailing over your shoulder. "if you still want me, that is. your most recent paper was very good, but i know you can do much better. you just have to try for me." he's caressing your neck now, lips ghosting over the skin. you let out a soft moan, goosebumps raising on your soft skin as he feathers it with kisses. your butterflies are alight as you turn your head, kissing him.

he grips your jaw almost immediately, pulling your head upwards towards where he bends over you. you gasp as his hand rests on your thigh, and he smiles against your lips. "you're so sensitive, hmm? when was the last time you touched yourself?"

you gulp, shaking your head, shocked still by his boldness and by your willingness to be honest. "a f-few days ago." you say shakily as he kisses along your jaw, hand sliding up your thigh slowly. he tuts, "baby, you're going to fall apart when i'm through with you." he mutters, almost to himself, and that makes you choke out a moan.

he kisses you again and you push back enthusiastically, hand raising to palm him through his slacks. he's already semi hard, which makes a swell of pride blossom in your chest. but suddenly he breaks off the kiss, hissing in surprise. "fuck." he mutters, backing away from you. you blink, did you go too far? your thighs press together as richie rushes to his desk. "i have to proctor this exam in zoom. in....two minutes."

oh.

you blink and watch as he logs into his laptop and adjusts his hair in its camera. it's endearing, in a way that makes you smile, though extremely riled up and disappointed. you begrudgingly reach for your things, but professor tozier's hand comes up to stop you, "please stay. it's only going to be max forty minutes. i have beer in the bottom drawer if you want some." he rushes out, and you smile. "you sure?" you say shyly.

he looks at you, pausing. "yeah, y/n. of course." he says gently, smiling almost shyly back at you. he looks so young, it makes you stare in awe. his dimple pops and you hear the sound of ringing, the students joining the call to take their exam. only professor tozier would have an exam this late on a friday. asshole, you laugh to yourself.  

you open a bottle of beer you find hidden under a stack of manilla folders, but don't even take a sip as your mind wanders. richie's speaking to the class, sounding professional and confident. you wonder if he's still hard.

so you smirk, feeling bold, and you get down onto your hands and knees and crawl under his desk until you're face level with his belt. gently, you spread his legs apart so you can get up and closer to him, and the slight jump he gives confirms that he didn't even notice you go under the desk.

you gently start to palm him and he clears his throat loudly, fist slamming on the desk slightly above you. over the speakers you hear professor, are you alright? and then richie's muttering, "y-yes, just a slight problem i need to fix." he's gritting it though his teeth and you grin to yourself as you unzip his pants and pull out his fully hard cock, running your fingers over it and smearing the precum. he's breathing tensely and he starts to speak to the class, giving tips on a certain question after one student asks him a question.

you pump him a few times gently, then start to kitten lick his tip, wanting to tease him since you've never had the upper hand like this before. you flatten your tongue along the bottom of his cock, teasing him a bit before slowly taking him into your mouth, sliding a bit before bobbing. the quiet groan he lets out as you take him as far as you can is sinful, a student asking richie about formatting as you suck him off. bobbing your head, you hollow your cheeks and relish in the feeling of richie’s cock in your throat, stretching you out and making you moan around him.

"y-yeah, so for this i'm really just looking for MLA-" he almost hiccups to cover up a groan as you try to hold yourself still with him all the way down your throat, as far as you can take him. "MLA formatting, nothing out of the ordinary. thank you for asking that."

and then you hear him slam a button and he groans out, “you feel so good baby.” he hisses, his hand moving from above the desk down to grip the back of your head, carding through your hair. "don't fucking stop." he says, his hand guiding your head as you work hard.

after a few minutes you pull off of him to take a few breaths, pumping as much as you can with your hand as he tries to act like he isn't getting sucked off while proctoring an exam. you can hear people starting to turn in their exams and saying goodbye, so you take him back into your mouth and try to relax, breathing through your nose as his cock twitches in the back of your throat and you gag.

you bob your head after that, your tongue flat against his cock as he slightly bucks his hips. you feel him type out something for the class and then he moans very lowly, bucking his hips up and you choke a bit as he slides further in your mouth and stretches your throat.

he doesn't feel you that he's about to cum, you just know, and he's clenching the edge of his desk and breathing hard as you eagerly swallow around him, moving slightly so the new angle makes him toss his head back for a brief moment before snapping back to the screen.

"professor, are you sure you’re okay?" someone asks again. you keep bobbing up and down on him as he mutters, "yes, thank you ms. ruben. finish your work and we can leave."

you figure those words are for you, and you move harder, helping him chase his high. he pulls your hair suddenly, which makes you keen forward and take him deep, gagging as you force your throat to relax.

and then soon he’s hitting his high, cumming in your mouth with a silent shudder, his hand squeezing his desk as the other hovers over his keyboard. you moan a bit as you swallow, pulling off him slowly as he pants, eyes glancing down at you.

you slide back up into your seat and sip on your beer, fixing your hair slightly as his eyes bounce from you to the screen. you smile innocently at him, his cheeks flushed and looking disheveled as he waits fro the last students to finish.

it's about three mintes until they're done and he stares directly at you once he ends the meeting. you expect him to say anything but what comes out of his mouth next.

"if you pull something like that again i will fuck you in front of the entire class.” he says it dead serious, eyes bright behind his glasses and boring straight into yours.

your legs feel like they could give out and you turn red as you watch him, “don’t act like that thought doesn’t have you already getting hard again.” is all you can think to say. it spills from your mouth quickly, your mind not even given time to think before you say it.

richie narrows his eyes, rising slowly from his chair and walking towards you, eyes locked the whole time. “funny. because you’re the one who couldn’t even wait two minutes before needing my cock in her mouth. i bet you’d let me fuck you anywhere i wanted and you’d still thank me for it afterwards, right princess?”

you’re not really used to this fierce banter between you and your professor - but when has this ever been professional?

you squeeze your legs together and stand up on wobbly legs. “shut up. you’re the one who said you’d give me first-hand experience on my essay. you wanted me the second you saw me.” you try to regain the upper hand, but he’s walking towards you and your legs hit the edge of his desk.

“of course i did, doll.” he says lowly, lips suddenly very close to yours. “and i still do.”

and you’re kissing again desperately, days upon days of desperation working its way into your kiss as you sit yourself on his desk and he comes between your legs, gripping your thighs.

he's dragging his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing against your heat and making you pant with need as you tug his curly strands. his hands then move to quickly undo his pants and pulling himself out of his boxers, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen. you whimper slightly as you spread your legs a bit, desperate to finally feel him inside you.

and then his hand is grabbing your face, thumb holding your chin as he turns your head to look right at him. "you better do exactly what i say, princess." he says, looking into your eyes. you nod, his thumb grip stern as he lines up at your entrance. “hm? or you wont get what you want.”

"yes, richie, yes. wan' it so bad, please." you mutter, making him smile. "aren’t you a good girl." he says with a grin, nudging your shoulder down until you’re laying on your elbows, legs bent and feet propped against the edge of his desk. then he’s pulling your lacy underwear aside and pushing into you in one motion.

the sudden stretch fills you to the brim and you let out a guttural noise at the feeling, having not been too warmed up to his cock. your back rubs uncomfortably against the wood of the desk as he pushes into you, but your hands grip his shoulders and all you can think about is richie. but then he stills, staring at you as he’s stretching you out, buried to the hilt.

you think he’s giving you time to adjust and so you relax, breathing as you take in the size of him. after a few moments, you kiss him. “please move richie.”

but he doesnt. and you moan, your legs quivering as he gently caresses one of your bent knees.

“good girl, begging for me.” his hands grip your thighs, holding them open as your eyes roll back slightly, “so fuckin’ pretty like this, baby.”

you turn red at the praise, trying to move your hips and feel him deep inside you. his hand falls to your stomach, pressing slightly. he tuts and you gasp, “stay still for me baby, wanna see you wait for it.”

you whimper, eyes closing as you try to breathe normally. his hands run up and down your sides, stomach, chest, hips, and then down your legs as he stands still, buried in you. your breathing is shaky with need. 

and then when you think you can’t handle it any longer, richie slowly pulls out. you moan, hands gripping his shoulders as the feeling coils your abdomen with pleasure. he starts thrusting slowly, picking up the pace so slowly it was torturous.

your nails rake down his back, and even though it’s through his shirt you’re sure it’ll leave faint red lines. your toes curl in pleasure as he moves his hips, hitting the perfect spot inside you.

“look at you, all wrecked on your professor’s cock.” he pounds you into the desk, lips then falling to suck large marks on your neck, the stinging pleasure adding to the volume of your moans.

his hands rise to lift your shirt up over your chest, sliding up to quickly palm your breasts, his hips starting to snap in an unforgiving pace. you feel him so deep inside of you that tears prick at your eyes, the pleasure building instantly. he’s leaning over you as he hits the sweet spot deep inside you, your vision coming in and out of focus as your legs begin to shake. “yes, richie, right there.” you moan, holding him above you as one of his hands goes to your hip, gripping tight as he pulls you towards him in time with his thrusts. it makes you yelp in pleasure, head tiltin back in euphoria.

he pulls back to look at you, hand tugging on your hair so you look at him as he pounds into you. "look at you, such a brat teasing me while i was teaching.” his voice is deep and rough, "look at you now, drunk on my cock. you just needed to remember your place, huh baby?" he coos, pressing a kiss to your temple, the feeling overwhelming as your orgasm creeps up quickly. “such a pretty girl.” he whispers.

you’re speechless as he pounds into you perfectly, the feeling making you sigh. "so perfect, all for me... so fuckin' pretty, baby." he's muttering kissing you like he's claiming you, his teeth clashing slightly with yours and his tongue dominating. you're weak, legs shaking as he pounds into you.

“are you close, doll?” he asks, eyes closed in bliss as he tilts his head back, hair catching the fluorescent light of his office lamp and looking beautiful. “yes, s’close, please-“ you moan, pulling him to your lips.

your eyes close slightly as he thrusts into you, one hand slipping up to roll your nipple softly and making you moan his name. as he sucks a hickey on to your neck, his thrusts begin to get sloppy and you clench around him. “god, you were made for me, baby. fuck, takin’ it so well.” 

and you hit your high after a series of pleas and moans of richie’s name, your eyes rolling back in euphoria. he’s rubbing your cheek, still thrusting as he whispers, “good girl, cumming on my cock.” the moan he lets out at the feeling of you clenching around him has you red as you feel his hips stutter. “fuck, y/n.”

you’re still clenching slightly from overstimulation as richie quickly pulls out of you, cumming on your bare stomach with a moan of your name, a sweet sound from the pink of his lips. you moan in pleasure as you watch him.

you look up with hooded eyes, still coming down from your high as his head falls on your shoulder. “fuckin’ hell, toots.” he whispers with a laugh, which makes you giggle a bit as you catch your breath, mind still muddled.

after a moment richie pulls away, re-tucking in his pants and straightening his shirt. he crosses behind you and returns with a shy, boyish grin and a box of tissues. you smile back and he gently guides your hand away as he reaches for a tissue himself, wiping you clean gently and pressing kisses over your stretch marks, kissing all the way up to your lips and making you giggle. your stomach is full of butterflies as he helps you right yourself from the desk.

“did you drive here?” he asks. you shake your head, looking up to him for a second, “i walked.” you squeak.

he nods. “i’m driving you.”

you flush, “no, i couldn’t ask you to do that, professor.” you say shyly. he throws you a look as he pulls his jacket on, shutting down his work laptop. “get over here now, doll. and don’t protest. i’m driving you, toots. it will make my night to buy us some chinese takeout.”

your heart flutters as you take his hand, glancing at the ground with a smile as he locks his door, both of you stopping and staring at the plaque on the outside of the door that reads:

professor tozier, sociology dept.

you cough and he looks down the hall before grabbing your hand again and making your way out to the parking lot. it’s silent - both of you certainly thinking about how wrong this, whatever it is, is. you almost roll your eyes at the cheesiness of what you think next - but why does it feel so right?

© all content belongs to soulwillower 2020. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier​​  @sft-core @clownsloveyou​  @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11  @trashedfortozier @oceandog13​ @chl0bee​  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s  @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @melinda-weasley @sassy-uris @loverloserrr

#richie tozier smut #richie tozier x reader #losers club x reader #losers x reader

[nice-kill-tanaka]

May I have a my hero and ohshc matchup plz

I'm a short girl around 5'2 with long brown hair and eyes and a leo. I like anime,dragons,reptiles,drawing but I'm not good,tarantulas,sweets,video games, memes,dark humor. I am very kind but I care more about others than I do myself. I have bad anxiety. I tend to overthink about everything. I love to sing especially country music but I am tone deaf. I have trouble standing up for myself because I was bullied alot. I can be very blunt. I also love to swear. I can be very loud. I love a good mystery and cop shows. I love dad jokes and puns.I am terrified of bees and heights. I am very lazy but I can be good at doing stuff if motivated. I have a very kind heart and sad stories or ones with very happy endings make my heart happy or hurt like crazy. But even though I'm kind that doesn't mean i am nice all the time. I am extremely grumpy and have a short temper especially on no sleep or if I just woke up. I also do have adhd and some anxiety I dont like being touched randomly unless I know it will happen or if I touch someone. As for dreams I'm not sure I wanna be a voice actor but not too sure if its right for me as I don't know how to edit or even have the equipment. I want someone who can just listen to me as I ramble on about things I love. I want someone to understand that I think differently then normal people. I also want someone to be able to understand im not the most affectionate person but I can be if given time but I will help someone if they are touch starved like I am.

[🌄 @cutelittleriot requested one (1) regular My Hero Academia matchup. I have just the ingredients for that! Sit tight while I get to work.🌌]

YAYYY!! First bnha matchup!! I gotchu bud 👍 I’m thinking about trying something new for the bnha fandom in particular. So, I’ll try it out and see what you think! Also, I got a little carried away with this one, so if it doesn’t seem characteristically accurate to you, please tell me!! 😖

And, the lucky person is:

⛰Eijiro Kirishima⛰

Quirk: Dragon

Dragon is a mutation quirk. It manifests slowly over time, until the user becomes about 60% dragon-esque at around 15/16 years old.

Scales and tough skin appear on the arms, legs, and face. Sharp teeth and claws grow in. Horns protrude from the forehead. A tail grows from the spine. Finally, wings grow from the back.

Flesh becomes twice as tough in places where scales are.

Depending on the user’s body type, wing usage is limited. (Since you’re generally shorter than average, “flying” and gliding comes easier to you.)

When the user consumes pressurized carbon dioxide, their stomach converts it into flammable gasses. Which allows the user to breathe- er...burp...fire.

Fire must be carefully used however. The smoke produced can accidentally be breathed in, causing lung damage.

🌱Humble Beginnings🌱

I’ll start by saying this: Being bullied is never fun. Being bullied over something you can’t easily control or change? Rub salt in it, why don’tcha?

You weren’t sure what the select few kids in your grade thought was so hilarious about your quirk. But, they managed to find enough wrong with it to do their damage for most of your time in school

First, the patches of scales that showed up on your skin were “too weak”. Then, your awkward transition stage with growing horns, wings, and tail was suddenly “ugly”

By the time your quirk fully manifested, the jeers finally devolved to “freak-ish”

Like a river carving out the Grand Canyon, the work was slow and wore you down over time. But, the impact was a lot bigger than even you’d initially thought

While you managed to somewhat heal and learned to guard your emotions against such hurtful things, that’s all you learned to do: Guard yourself. You were a shield with no spear, since you never fought back

With the help of supportive parents and teachers, your self-esteem wasn’t so low, but you did often downplay or underestimate your abilities

Like, Bitch??? You can burp fire??? Know your power???

The people you were on good terms with seemed to see a potential that you either disregarded, or didn't know about all together

They saw the way you treated others with consideration and forethought. How, despite (or because of) your anxiety, you remained hyper-aware of the problems of others and how to accommodate. And while your anger did have its vices, people knew how hot your righteous rage could burn

It actually took a lot of convincing for you to even apply to U.A. 

Outside of your other aspirations for the future, you didn’t particularly feel worthy for the job. Of anything you could be, you weren’t a fearless, upstanding, unshakable individual, not even giving a second thought to throwing yourself into danger for the good of others. You weren’t your alleged definition of a hero, and that was enough to deter you

But, whenever you recited your polite (well-rehearsed) decline, most gave you the same weirdly optimistic retort:

“Just try, maybe you’ll do better than you’re giving yourself credit for.”

So, here you were at an entrance exam full of people you hardly knew, wondering how you even rationalized to yourself that this would go just fine

The written exam went okay. As well as you could for literally guessing what to study to pass

All you had to do was do your best on the physical exam, and you’d be done for the day

But, your issue was in the people around you, not the exam itself

You were aware of the high amount of attention the moment you walked onto campus. The way other kids measured you up from a distance, studying everything about your not-so-human body. Watching your every move, especially the way your movements were strained from soreness (A short period of intense training tends to do that to you). You assumed they also wanted to see if your disposition was as powerful as your quirk suggested

((You specifically noticed a coltish, green-haired kid muttering to himself, questioning if your wings could actually support your body weight))

Even now, as the prospective heroes-in-training warmed up, you felt the stares burning into you

Half of you wanted to lift your eyes and rhetorically ask what the hell they were looking at, only feeling more annoyed as you snorted and returned to what you were doing. The other half wanted to fold into yourself until you disappeared (If only it were that easy)

But, you had enough (Roughly, one billion) worries on your mind to put confrontation on the list. Shaking off your anxious shivers as you lowered your head and continued with your “stretches” seemed so much easier

(A.k.a. Staring off into space as you held your limbs in awkward positions)

The time to begin the physical test was drawing near, and your self-doubt hadn’t eased up. Maybe this was a mistake. You didn’t belong here. Not when so many other students could fill the space you’re wasting so much better. Maybe if you slipped through the back now, you’d save yourself the disappointment of not living up to your own standards

“Hey, brown-haired girl! With the horns!”

You heard a gruff whisper from not to far behind you, from the left. You tensed for a moment, wondering what the voice could possibly want from you. But, the sight you saw was rather unexpected

The voice definitely matched the body, bulky and slightly rough looking, a little taller than you. Matched with a sweet face, sharp teeth, and bright, spiky, red hair. The smile he showed you instantly calmed your thoughts

“…Hm?”

You gave a short response, not wanting to jump to conclusions yet

“I saw you looking kinda psyched out over here, so I thought talking to you would make you less nervous!”

You felt a warm and fuzzy sensation in the pit of your stomach. As much encouragement as you got to achieve things, you didn’t see much of it to consider how you felt. How you could feel better. You liked it, which was surprising, considering the encouragement came from a perfect stranger

“Oh, uhh…thanks then. But, I’m fine, I promise! I’m no more nervous than you are.”

“Well, that’s also why I came to talk…I’m kinda freaking out too…”

This boy’s transparency was almost scary, but on the other hand, very comforting. You didn’t catch him trying to stare at your mutated parts once as you talked. Your eyes were the thing he seemed the most focused on, and while it made you embarrassed, it was the good kind (if that makes sense)

But, soon enough, the announcement for the beginning of the exam came over the loudspeaker, and you and your acquaintance had to look out for yourselves. But, before you parted ways, the redhead turned to you

“I’m Eijiro Kirishima, by the way! See you when I see you, Shortie!”

🌳Flourishing Love🌳

The beginning of Kirishima seeing you as a romantic option happened not too long after parting ways at the physical exam

He was almost completely cornered by one of the machines students could disarm for points. And just as that was happening, you had just turned the corner after shaking off another one

You saw Kirishima, but he definitely didn’t see you, trying hard to look tough, but struggling to stand his ground

It quickly dawned on you that Kirishima didn’t have a quirk that could easily deal with the hostile device. And if he did, he was too scared to use it

You vetoed the idea of charging in head on first. You didn’t feel like getting yourself or Kirishima hurt. Especially without a plan. You needed to be smart about getting your only acquaintance out of this situation

Your heart raced and your execution was all but clean, but you ended up using your fire breath to weld the robot’s wheels to the concrete

Before you let your inhibitions get the better of you, you climbed the machine and punched out the camera on the front. From atop the beast, you hung your tail over the edge low enough for Kirishima to grab. You didn’t dare look down at the ground

“Dammit Eijiro, grab on!!”

Once you felt a weight on your tail, you used your wings to propel you both forward. Obviously, away from the robot

You were too high on adrenaline and fear to notice, but Kirishima stared at you like you were the embodiment of Heaven on Earth. The stars in his eyes almost seemed inappropriate for the situation 😅

You looked just as—if not more—afraid than he was. But, you seemed so okay with the fact that you weren’t fearless, and acted like a true hero anyway. He admired, dare I say loved that about you

And he didn’t even know your name

As soon as you found out that you and Kirishima were in the same class, you felt instant relief. At least you were familiar with someone at U.A.

You guys’ friendship developed rather fast, like and extrovert adopting an introvert

Kirishima quickly noticed how fast you opened up once you got comfortable around him, and loved you all the more for how bright and vibrant the unfiltered you was

He found himself picking up on your sense of humor, telling dad jokes you whisper under your breath to the Bakusquad (Much to Bakugou’s dismay 😅)

Don’t worry, he always gives you the credit 😉

As time went on, Kirishima learned to appreciate how blunt you were. He realized that he needed someone to tell it like it is (“It isn’t manly to sugarcoat things! 😤” he says)

And while Kirishima prefers physical activities over video games, he loves to hype you up while you play before classes

It was only natural a mutual crush would form :D

Kirishima finally worked up the guts to ask you out after the U.S.J. Incident

You and him had gotten separated (You had gotten trapped with the cold son of Endeavor. And you both took out the villains with an awe-inspiring display of fire and ice)

Kirishima was faced with the reality that either of you could lose each other at any moment. And while both of you came out alright, he realized he couldn’t be wishy-washy about his feelings for you

He told you on your way to school the next morning:

“Look. What happened yesterday really scared me. Normally, I wouldn’t say that, but I think you deserve to know. Because…you mean a lot to me!! More than I can put into words. I love when we have fun together, and I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I never got to tell you how I felt…”

“Basically…I like you!! Like…in the romantic way…”

Your early morning grumpiness dissipated almost instantly, replaced by momentary confusion and disbelief, then embarrassment and joy. Was this really happening…? The boy that took a chance on you since the beginning, confessed that he had feelings for you…? Even though you didn’t question your relationship, you always assumed the nice things Kirishima said, the way he looked at you, was all part of the pleasantries. You questioned if you were even worth all of that

‘But you are.’ The little voice Kirishima helped you develop said. ‘And he would say more if he didn’t look so embarrassed.’

And so, you accepted Kirishima’s confession. And he saw the sweetest smile you had ever given him since the first time he complimented your puns 😊❤️

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

[🌌 There you go bud! That’s one matchup for the road. Hopefully it lasts for a while, but if it doesn’t, feel free to come back! I’d be thrilled to see you again.🌄] —Reagan

#caravan commodities #special bindles #matchup #cutelittleriot.traveler #cutelittleriot.request #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha matchup #bnha matchup #back on the grind #😊 #my other choices would’ve been Mirio or Sero

[sarah-writes-marvel]

Without A Scratch: Avengers x gn!Reader

S.S.: Hello, heres another fic. I know Im very inconsistent with writing but Im working on it! Thanks to everyone who likes my posts I really appreciate it!! Hope you like this one!

Warnings: Car crash!!, police officers, medical staff, panic attacks... idk what else, let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: 1,834

* I know it says Avengers x Reader, but it only features Tony, Nat and Bucky.... :)

** Mx: gender neutral for Mrs., Miss, or Mr. jsut an fyi for anybody who doesnt know! 

MASTERLIST

---------------------------------------

There was a distant ringing in my ears. The sound of honking horns and brakes screeching to a stop and sirens seemed muffled. The sun seemed brighter than it had been. My body was buzzing with adrenaline and the feeling in my fingers was gone.There was debris amongst the road, pedestrians standing along the road or with one foot out of their car looking over their opened doors.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” a grey-haired woman stopped my wandering, her hands placed on my shoulders. Others stood next to her, barely within my vision through my helmet.

“I think so.” I mumbled, turning around to the wreck that I had just barely escaped with my life. My motorcycle laid in pieces off to the side of the intersection. The car that had run through the red light was wrecked, the front slightly crumpled from impact.

Police cars surround the area, immediately blocking off the road and encouraging pedestrians and drivers to detour. Emergency medical staff jumped from the ambulances, two coming towards where I stood with the older woman, and two to the man who looked unconscious in the front seat.

“Mx, my name is Alex Khan and this is my partner Trey Alpin. Do you know your name?” His voice was urgent and demanding, but not aggressive.

“My name is Y/f/n Y/l/n.” My voice wavered and shock began to overwhelm my senses. My hands grasped at my helmet, struggling to pull it off.

“Hold on, let me help you. We don't want to add insult to injury.” his partner insisted his hands hooking under my helmet and carefully pulling it off of my head. 

“Alright Ms. Moon. Can you walk?” and despite it sounding like the dumbest question considering I was standing right in front of them, my knees gave out before giving them an answer. “We’ve got you.”

I turned to the older woman who still stood there with her hand covering her mouth and tears welling in her eyes. “Thank you.”  she replied with a simple nod and a reassuring smile before the two paramedics helped me to the back of one of the ambulances at the scene.

“Is the driver alright?” I asked after they sat me on the end of the truck, a shock blanket wrapped around my shoulders.

“Lets focus on you first then we’ll get an update on him for you.” Alex smiled. 

Trey stood to the next to him jotting down notes, before setting it to the side as Alex moved to the other ambulance.

“Stare at my finger for me.” he said, holding his index finger in front of my face before shining a light into my eyes, checking for the pupil's reaction. “Good, no concussion.” He said with a reassuring smile.

He wrote it down amongst the other notes on the clipboard before turning back. “Do you mind taking off your gear so I can check for breaks or sprains?” I nodded quietly, shrugging off the shock blanket and tugging at the zipper of the leather jacket covering my top.

“Also do you have someone that you can call?” He asked, filling the silence as I winced pulling my arms from the sleeves.

“I do but my phone was in my bike’s hideaway compartment. So I highly doubt it's functional anymore.” I said, giving a small smile.

“No worries, you can borrow a phone from any of us after I check you over for injuries.”

 His hands were cold compared to my burning skin as he ran them down my arms, moving my wrists careful of the road rash across my knuckles that wore through my gloves. “Does that hurt?” I shook my head no as he repeated the same motions on my other arm receiving the same response.

His hands moved to the back of my neck squeezing along the sides of my spine, eliciting a slight wince from me. “Did that hurt?”

“Just a little.” 

“Sorry” he pressed his lips together and his eyebrows furrowed. He stepped to the side continuing down my back with one hand without any other trouble. “Just some slight whiplash, nothing major, just be cautious with activities.”

He moved back in front of me, his hands settling on my highest rib, slowly trailing down my sides before I grimaced at the gentle touch he was using. “Sorry” he muttered before continuing.

“So that might be a break or just a crack but you'll have to take a ride with us to get that x-rayed.”

“Uhm, can I actually make my call while you continue to check me over?” I asked quietly, my mind still a little muddled with the fact that I was sitting in the back of an ambulance with a fractured rib being my worst injury.

“Of course.” He pulled his phone from his uniform pocket, unlocking the screen and opening the keypad. “Here you go. I'm just going to run over your legs and then wrap your hands.” I only nod in confirmation as I begin typing in the number.

After a few rings, the line clicked. “Tony Stark who is this and why are you calling me?”

“Tony…” My voice cracked trying to hold back the tears that had begun to form in my eyes.

“Y/n/n? What happened? Friday get a read on the call.” he called to the A.I. frantically.

“I got into a wreck.” I said my voice wavering as tears threatened to spill over “Im at 42nd and 11th.”

“On it.” And with that the call ended, and the panic set in.

“Thanks. Can I get oxygen or something? I- I cant breath.” I say handing Trey his phone back, my hands shaking and my breathing become erratic.

“Yea, of course one second.” He agreed hopping into the truck grabbing a tank and mask, setting up and bringing it back to me. I held the mask over my nose doing my best to take calming breaths as he brought the blanket back over my shoulders.

Commotion amongst the street caused me to open my eyes back up to see Tony in his Ironman suit landing next to the street blocked signs. A black lamborghini pulled up behind him, Bucky and Nat stepping out. It was amusing to watch the police hold their hands out, trying to block the trio from entering into the restricted area, but with a flip of a badge from Nat and a scolding from Tony, they stepped aside. 

The trio took a minute analyzing the damage, noting the obliterated bike that belonged to their second youngest Avenger. The plastic and metal spread across the street casting shadows from the flashing red and blue lights. The car that was stopped in the middle of the intersection with the hood crumpled. 

“Oh my god, Y/n/n.” Nat was the first to wrap me carefully into a hug. “Are you ok? What happened?” Bucky and Tony stood behind her both with rage in their eyes.

“Some guy ran a red light. I’m ok.” I said casting my gaze to the other ambulance where it seemed that the driver was still unresponsive.

“The only points of concern are thier minor whiplash, the road burns and fractured ribs 5-7 on the left side. I suggest getting an xray to make sure they are only fractures and nothing more and a CT scan for any other internal injuries that I can't diagnose here. I would offer a ride to the hospital but I realize that you will have better medical technology at the Avengers Tower.” Trey listed, smiling at the three Avengers standing there.

“Thank you very much for taking care of her. Apply at Stark Industries, I’ll find a place for you on the medical staff.” Tony smiled.

“Let's get you home.” Bucky spoke quietly, and I agreed adamantly.

“They’ll have to report to one of the police officers before leaving the scene.” Trey reminded us as I grabbed my jacket and helmet.

“Thank you.” Nat said, helping me from my spot. “Can you walk?” I nodded. Setting down the oxygen and dropping the blanket from my shoulders. I gripped onto her hand and pushed against the ambulance bed with the other to get onto my feet.

I took a minute to find my balance, hanging onto Nat for support. Her arm was wrapped around my waist as she helped me walk over to one of the police officers.

“Are you the motorbike rider?”

“Yes sir.” I replied, releasing my grip on Nat, noting that Bucky and Stark were standing closely behind on guard.

“I just have some routine questions for you quickly.” I nodded my head and he began asking the questions.

After the officer finished his follow up he thanked me before Nat began to pull me away from the scene.

“Wait. I asked about the driver of the car. I haven't heard anything.” I stopped turning around to see paramedics surrounding the bed of the other ambulance.

“Honey, don't worry about him. Come on let's get you home.” Nat insisted. I pulled away from her grip stumbling slightly.

“Just because he ran a red light and hit me doesn't make him any less important. I just want to check to make sure he’ll recover.” I argued before making my way over to the commotion.

The paramedics and a few police officers were congregated near the end of the ambulance as I approached. I could hear the orders for medical equipment being called out as I grew closer.

“Excuse me.” I tapped on someone's shoulder. 

“Y/n? Why are you still here?” Trey asked once he had turned to see me.

“I asked earlier about the driver. Will he make a recovery?” I asked peaking over his shoulder to watch paramedics lifting the stretcher into the back.

“He’ll make a full recovery. He'll be spending a few years in prison for this though. If you're worried about insurance coverage dont worry. Officers will get that sorted when he's responsive.” Trey explained.

“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I just wanted to make sure he’ll make a recovery. Thank you.” I smiled before turning back to the three Avengers waiting at the police barricade.

“Ready to go?” Bucky asked as I joined them. I simply nodded my head as Nat wrapped her arm around me again leading me to the car.

“Let’s go get you healed up. I heard Cho is working on something with broken bones. Maybe you can be a guinea pig!” Tony exclaimed with a smile.

“As intriguing as that sounds I doubt that I’m stable enough to endure whatever it may be.” I replied as I settled into the front seat of the car.

“Fair enough.” Tony smiled. “Im proud of you ya know. For that little thing you just did. For understanding that his life is still important.”

“I learned from the best.” I looked at the three of them, each having a proud smile across their face.

-----------------------------

S.S: Hope you all liked it!! Again dont be afraid to request. I also realize that alot of my fics seem to have a little (or lot) of angst. Ill try and make some more fluffy fics soon! Thanks for reading!

#avengers #tony stark #bucky barnes #natasha romanov #readerinsert #avengersxgn!reader #marvel #ironman #wintersoldier #blackwidow #mcu #marvelfanfic #mcufanfic #avengersfanfic #angst #fluff #gnreader

[happytsukki]

me, you, and us.

t. kuroo

genre: angst

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i’ve had writer’s block for a few days and i was about to just stick to reading bc i can’t write to save my life. was genuinely about to give up and just finish my smau LOL but here’s my attempt to keep going ;-; should i write a pt 2? dont know if its better left at that sooo you should tell me your thoughts!

“look, i’m happy for you, really y/n,” kuroo hesitates and inhales sharply. his fingers fidget around the mug laid in front of him, eyes avoiding the look tinged with concern painted across your face. “but what about us? you said— no we said we would do this whole adult thing together. we would build our lives in tokyo with our family and friends. you would become a lawyer, i would become a scientist. then, we could start a family, have mini me’s running around here,” he shudders, his voice growing increasingly weary with every word. his chest heaves up and down as he fights the urge to cry out in frustration.

three years. it’s been 3 long, glorious years since kuroo confessed his feelings to you back at nekoma. and what first began as something simply platonic blossomed into an enduring type of love that allowed the two of you to brush past all the obstacles. first, it was conflicting time schedules at work, then it was that overly flirty coworker that seemed to constantly cling on to him, and there was also the ex-boyfriend trying to “befriend” you again ordeal; but despite all the struggles, your love reigned supreme and nothing seemed to separate the bond you two held.

and love to kuroo meant not only reminiscing in the first’s, and reveling in the now’s, but also dreaming about the what if’s. dreams that he so badly wanted to become a reality.

“i know, tetsu, but look,” you desperately plead, a hand reaching out to capture his face, jaw tightened and brows knitted tightly. your knees brush his thighs as you lean forward but he remains rigid in his position. you’ve never seen him like this, indignation underlying his despair. “it’s a paid internship with one of the best firms in the nation! imagine how many opportunities this opens up for me, no, i mean for us in the future. besides, distance has nothing on us, right?”

no matter how hard you tried to sound confident, it sounded too much like a question rather than an affirmation. you could feel the cracks emerging in your relationship. the doubts washing away the glue that held you two together against all the past ups and downs. and despite being only a few feet apart, you felt oceans away from the man in front of you.

“no,” he says sternly, recoiling from your touch. he stands and takes steps away from you, a pained expression staring right back at you. “there’s no us in this, y/n. this is all about you. you’re the one being selfish.” he snarls, pointing a hard finger at your face.

“don’t say that tetsu, that’s not true,” you shout back, rage stirring within the depths of your stomach. you couldn’t fathom how he was blaming you right now. you were fully certain that if he came home to you one day, rejoicing in news of an opportunity for his career path, you would cry out in jubilation. so the fact that he was doing quite the opposite made your blood boil.

“i thought you would be happy for me— but you’re just being a dick about it!” you scream, loud enough for your neighbors to hear past the thinly lined walls of your apartment, but you couldn’t care less. your emotions were high and there was no off switch to stop the flood of venom slipping out your lips.

“are you kidding me? i’m the one at fault here y/n?”

at this point, both of you are shouting at full volume, anger bouncing off each other, and chipping away at your hearts. how could the one you loved the most be the one who ended up hurting you the worst? you think to yourself, breaths growing ragged from your emotions.

“but you are tetsurou! why can’t you support me?” it’s tiring, and maybe it’s your mind fighting your heart, but whatever it was made you feel completely helpless. it was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, and each choice resulted in your own misery.

“what am i supposed to do while you pick up everything and move to the other side of the japan? did you expect me to come with you, or stay here and continue long distance? admit it, you didn’t even bother thinking about me in all of this, because i was never a part of your future!”

then there’s silence.

a deafening silence that was far too long on your part. and kuroo decides right there and then.

amid your scramble to find the right thoughts, right words to convince him, no— yourself that he was always in your mind, a priority in your heart, he storms off into the bedroom you shared.

you chase after him, legs absolutely numb as you attempt to drag your heavy feet across the carpeted floor. oh how quickly your anger dissipates and transforms into a painful sorrow.

“tetsu?” you whisper from behind him. your eyes fall onto the suitcase laid out on the bed, clothes overflowing from it. he hears you, but he doesn’t pause. he continues his fit of rage, walking back and forth from the dresser to throw his belongings into the suitcase. kuroo rummages through the drawers, leaving a mess behind everything he touches, but it didn’t matter at this point.

“don’t do this tetsu. please.” you cry out, hand clutching at the tighteness in your chest that made it difficult to find a breath. you find yourself following his every step, fingers reaching out for his but he dodges your desperation every time.

“why? you were gonna leave me anyway,” he hisses stridently behind his lashes brimming with tears, zipping the last of his stuff away in that little suitcase.

before he can walk through the door of your bedroom, you stop him and place your fists against his chest.

“look at me, tetsu. i love you. please, don’t do this,” you breathe. your hands go up to cup his face, sending shivers down his spine. as the pads of your thumbs delicately wipe away the tear stains, you can almost feel him lean into your touch. and for a moment, that hardened expression softened into the one you had grown to love for years. but it’s gone within seconds and your hands turn cold, missing his warmth.

“i’m only making this easier for you. now you don’t have to go through the pain of choosing, because i think we both know how this ends.” he sighs.

your forlorn whispers grow into desperate pleas for him to stay. but his feet don’t stop until he’s facing the front door, fingers grazing the silver knob that led to an escape from this situation, an escape from what he used to consider his paradise.

“don’t please. kuroo. tetsurou. i love you. don’t leave me.”

your sobs drive you to your knees and you reach for his arm one more time. maybe he’ll stay. maybe he’ll forgive you. maybe he’d still let you be a part of his future. you silently pray over and over, hoping that maybe the heavens could hear you and convince him. and those same thoughts run through kuroo’s mind but the words he was truly seeking for was nowhere to be found.

i won’t leave you.

that’s all he wished you would say. but minutes pass and he thinks it’s hopeless.

so he walks right out your life, just like that. he manages to mutter a sad “i love you too” before shutting the door but it’s far too quiet to be heard and you’re left alone in that empty, desolate apartment.

it’s cold, lacking the warmth that kuroo radiated from his mere presence. it’s dark, deprived of the brightness kuroo cast from his silly jokes and sweet words. so you’re sitting there, back against the door while you wretchedly wrap your arms around that old picture frame. it contained your graduation picture, lips pressed against kuroo’s as the team looks on proudly.

you start to think how funny it is how these memories that once made your heart swell with bliss became the monsters breaking down your very existence.

you’ve memorized every great and minute detail about him, but now you want to lock these up and throw away the key. it’s not out of regret or contempt, but protection against the guilt writhing away at your whole being.

and while you wept relentlessly, tears drenching your cheeks and the weight on your chest expanding, kuroo was lost.

how could the entire premise of his future slip out of his fingertips so easily?

a day ago, kuroo felt like he was on top of the world, basking in the vibrancy you continued to bring into his dull life. an itching sensation blossomed in his heart as he gushed to kenma over the idea of proposing, and of course, his best friend happily encouraged him to.

but within hours, an earthquake had sent tremors through his world. you were his entire foundation, a stabilizing rock against all the raging shakes and storms. but you weren’t his anymore.

without you, he lost the feeling of feeling. black and white darkening his world into nothingness.

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