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feelbokkie · 1 year

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괜찮아 잡아줄게 (It's okay, I'll catch you)

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

**Requested**

If it’s not too much to ask, can I request a Jisung one shot with prompts 8, 12, and 16? Maybe the reader is having a bad panic attack and her bf Jisung is the only one who can calm her down? Love your writing 💕

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, a smidge of fluff at the end as a treat

pov: 2nd person

description: You're having a panic attack and the only only one who can calm you down is your boyfriend Jisung. (title is a lyric from Grow Up) (not proof read)

pairing: bf!jisung x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, reader is having a panic attack (DNI if you might get triggered)

word count: 2,950

You were sitting at the dining room table in the dorm ,that you share with your boyfriend Jisung and three of his group mates, typing furiously on your laptop. You had several assignment deadlines all due within the next couple of days, including your 2 year long thesis. After 4 long years of university, you were finally graduating, if you managed ro get all your assignments in on time and your thesis submitted.

You’re not sure how or why you’re so behind on your studies. Sure, you weren’t the most organized person, but you you always did a little bit of work that way when you inevitably had to sit down and work on whatever assignment you procrastinated, you were ready to go. You pride yourself on “working well under pressure” despite it giving you major anxiety and a few minor panic attacks. Your thesis, despited being the culmination of your entire university experience, was no exception to that. You had done your research for your topic. Most of the first year you started working in it was spent collecting articles and data and saving it for later when you would actually start writing. You were supposed to start writing in January. But you kept pushing it off since the submission deadline wasn’t until April.

That’s how most of the semester went when you realized that none of your professors cared about when you got your assignments in. As long as you turned something in, and it looked like you put effort, you got an A. Unlike your assignments, your thesis had to be read and approved by academic readers before you could submit it and you had only emailed them twice the whole semester with 2 half asses drafts. You decided to pull several all nighters last week to get a complete 60 paged draft roughly two weeks before the deadline so you would have time for revisions. You managed to email it to them exactly a week ago today, now you were anxiously waiting for your feedback. The problem is, they were taking too long and the thesis is due Monday. Normally, they would email you back 1-2 days after you email them a draft, even with your longer papers. It scared you to think that they’re taking 7 whole days this time, leaving you roughly 5ish days to work on revisions, not counting the turn around time for them to send you more feedback. While waiting, you pulled even more all-nighters to catch up on your other assignments that got neglected of the past few weeks.

Jisung had been good with leaving you alone the past few weeks while you worked. All of your roommates were. Hyunjin mostly stayed in his room like normal, only coming out every few hours to eat and socialize before returning to his room. Changbin is gone most of the day, either working out or exploring the out world. The few time’s he’s been home he tried to stay quiet and out of your way. Chan also spends a lot of time either in his room or at the studio. He even offered to let you use his room to do your homework in while he’s at the studio so the others were less likely to bug you. Jisung, being a bit more needy than the other three men, stayed near you most of the time. Like reading manga at the table while you worked or watching something on his computer either at the table next to you on the floor. He also makes sure you eat and get some sort of snack. He often would have to come beg you to get some sleep, promising to wake you up at a certain time so you could get back to work. Right now, he’s at the convenience store getting lunch for the two of you.

Taking a break from writing, you check your email for the 15th time today. Seeing an email from your academic advisor at the top makes your heart drop. You waste no time opening the email, eyes quickly scanning the words. Making sure you were reading everything properly, you re-read the email.

“Hey, how are you doing with your homework?” Hyunjin pats your head as he walks by, finally leaving his room for the second time today.

“Everything is okay,” You mutter back, finally opening the comments that your readers left on your paper.

Hyunjin stares at you for a second. He knows that you definitely didn’t answer the question he asked. He debated if he should press you or continue on like nothing happened. He knew you were stressed, all of your roommates did. So he brushed it off as you being too engrossed in your assignments and continued on to the kitchen to make himself something to eat.

“Everything is okay,” You mumble to yourself.

Everything is not okay. Your advisors had completely torn your paper apart. You knew there were issues with it, it was only natural that you hadn’t written a perfect complete draft after multiple sleepless nights. You expected it. What you hadn’t expected was being told that your paper was so bad that there would be no way for you to fix it in time for the Monday submission deadline and you would instead have to work on it over the summer. It’s not good enough. You’re not good enough.

“Everything is okay,”

“Did you say something?” Hyunjin calls from the kitchen. He was debating if he should just give up on the idea of making something to eat and just order food.

You could feel your heartbeat getting faster at the notion that everything not being okay, like it would beat out of your chest at any second. You can feel your hands becoming cold and clammy. You slowly wipe your hands on you pant legs, trying to calm yourself down. If you don’t do something—anything to calm down, you’re going to have a panic attack. You need cold water. You quickly stand up, legs feeling like jelly, and make your way to the kitchen.

You walk straight past Hyunjin, who was now finishing ordering himself food, and grab a cup from the cabinet. He pays little attention to you as he focuses on the menu, debating if he should just order dinner as well. He doesn’t see your hands shaking as you take the cup to the sink and fill it with ice and cold water. He doesn’t even look up at you until the combination of your sweaty, shaking hands and the heaviness of the cup makes you drop it, shattering it across the floor.

“Everything is okay,” You can’t even get a cup of water.

Hyunjin rushes to get the broom while you drop to the floor and start picking up the shards of glass. Your heart is beating even faster now, you can feel it in your ribcage, and now you’re breathing quickly.

“Y/n, I got it, move,” Hyunjin playfully pushes you away with the broom except, you don’t budge. Instead your chest tightens and your breathing quickens even more.

“Y/n? Chan hyung!” Hyunjin drops the broom and come next to you as he watched you cut yourself on a piece of glass and still try to clean, finally understanding that everything is not okay.

Chan rushes out of his room at the sound of panic in Hyunjin’s voice. He stops when he sees you sitting on the floor, hyperventilating and holding glass in your bloodied hands while Hyunjin slowly rubs circles on your back. He kneels down on the other side of you and carefully pulls the glass shards you are holding out of your hands.

“What happened?” Chan doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“I don’t know! She dropped the cup and started having a panic attack.” Hyunjin says, standing up.

“Where’s Han?” Hyunjin hands Chan a towel for your hand. The cut isn’t bad enough for you need stitches, but it is still bleeding.

“He went out not too long ago.”

“Call him, now. Y/n, hey, let try to take a deep breathe…” Chan now focuses all of his attention of calming you down.

The boys know you’re prone to panic attack, especially when you're stressed. They also know that Jisung is the only one who is able to properly calm you down if you weren’t able to stop the attack from happening in the first place.

“…Don’t panic, but you need to come home right now…It’s Y/n, she having a panic attack…Chan hyung is with her right now but it seems really bad this time…Yeah, okay see you soon. Hyung, Han said to try that 333 thing.” Hyunjin slides his phone back in his pocket before picking up the broom again and trying to clean up the broken glass.

“Yeah, right, okay, um… Y/n, can you tell me three things you see?” Chan was now sitting right in front of you, hands on your wrists stroking a finger back and forth trying to calm you down a bit.

“Everything…is…okay,” You choke out, tears now falling down your face. Chan starts to worry more now. In all the times he’s seen you have a panic attack, he’s never see you reduced to tears. He quickly shares a look with Hyunjin who was now done cleaning the glass and getting a mop for the water.

“Yeah, you’re right everything is okay. Why don’t you just tell me three things you can hear instead?”

“Can’t breathe,” Your breathes become shorter as the pounding in your chest gets even stronger, practically blocking out all outside sounds.

“Let’s just take one deep breathe. Can you do that for me? I’ll do it with you, c’mon,” You try to follow Chan’s lead and take a deep but choke instead and start crying harder.

“Hyung…” Hyunjin softly calls out. He’s one of your best friends and he hates seeing you in distress like this.

“Yeah, I know. Just go wait by the door so you can let Han in when he gets here. Y/n, it’s okay. Let’s try that again but slowly this time.” Chan was no longer concerned that you were having a panic attack, but that you might actually make yourself pass out this time. He slight moves his body so that he could catch you if you went down.

A few minutes later, Jisung runs into the dorm out of breathe. Hyunjin points to the kitchen and takes the bag that was in his hands. Jisung quickly kicks off his shoes and rushes into the kitchen where you were now full on sobbing on the floor. He wastes no time sitting in front of you and cupping your face.

“Sungie?” Your tearful eyes meet his concerned ones.

“Hey princess, what’s going on?” His thumb swipes over your cheek, briefly breaking the flow of tears. Chan finally gets up from the floor and leaves the two of you in the kitchen alone. He sits with Hyunjin in the living room, making sure to keep an ear out in case he was needed again.

“Everything is okay,” You repeat. At this point, you weren’t sure if you had been telling everyone else that everything was fine or if you were trying to calm yourself down.

“Everything is okay, let’s try to focus on your breathing so that everything can be even more okay.”

“I—I can’t, it hurts. Like my chest is going to explode. I think it actually might this time.” Jisung’s left hand leaves your face and gently lands on your chest with slight pressure. The fact that he could feel how hard your heart was working worried him. He quietly decided that if he couldn’t calm you down in 20 minutes, he’d call for an ambulance.

“You’re safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He reassures you. Your eyes start to wander around the kitchen, remembering everything you had to get done today.

“I broke a glass…and I still have so much homework to get done.” Your breathing quickens yet again and you cry even harder.

“Hey, just look at me. Forget everything else. The glass is already taken care of and we can worry about your homework a little later. Right now, I just need you to touch my hand. Can you do that for me?” His right hand leaves your face. He holds up next to him, like he’s awkwardly waving hi, and waits for you to touch it.

“Ji, I can’t,” You whimper.

“Yes, you can. I know you can. Just listen to my voice. Take a deep breathe in and when you touch my hand, let that breathe out. Okay?” He slowly takes a deep breathe in and you follow suite. Your shaky hand meets his steady one and you let out the air you were holding in.

“Good girl,” He moves his hand to a new position, “let’s do that again.”

You repeat your actions, taking a deep breathe in and letting it out once you touch Jisung’s, until your breathing becomes less labored. His left hand never leaves your chest, acting like a weight blanket with the amount of pressure he was adding. He was afraid to actually put a real weighted blanket on you in your current state.

“Feel a little better?” Jisung asks, still continuing to have you follow his hand. You just quietly shake your head yes. Your breathing had regulated and your heart had slowed down to a normal pace.

“Can you get up?” You shake your head yes again.

“Okay, let’s get you up so we can take care of that hand.” Jisung gets up first and helps pull you up. He leaves out a hand for you to take. Instead you grab his sleeve and allow him to lead you out of the kitchen.

The two of you walk past Chan and Hyunjin who were quietly talking on the couch. Jisung quietly gives them a look of appreciation and that everything is good before taking you to the bathroom. Once inside he helps you sit on the counter, careful to make sure you don’t see yourself in the mirror. Worried that if you saw the state of yourself, you might start panicking again. You had calmed down significantly, but you were still crying and that worried him.

“Do…do you want to talk about what made you panic? It’s okay if you don’t.” He pulls out the first-aid kit and starts cleaning your cut.

“I”m not good enough,” You simply choke out.

“What makes you say that?” That’a one of the things you love about Jisung. He never jumps to reassure you when you doubt yourself, he tries to understand why you’re feeling a certain way first.

“My thesis is shit and my readers say there is no way for me to fix it in time for submission on Monday so I’ll have to do it during the summer. And I don’t know what that means for graduation next month because we’ve already booked the venue for the dinner and my family already bought their tickets and booked their hotel rooms and if I tell them I can’t graduate anymore then they’ll be disappointed and I’ll be proving them right about every decision I’ve ever made—”

“Breathe, Y/n, just breathe…” He doesn’t even look up as he wraps your hand with a bandage.

“Everything is falling apart, Ji.” He cleans up the first-aid kit and then grabs a clean wash cloth from under the cabinet, wetting it with water from the sink.

“Let’s just take everything one step at a time, okay? You already caught up with all your late work, right?”

“Yeah,”

“And you were just trying to get ahead on your last few assignment?”

“Yeah,”

“I’m sure they’ll still let you walk at graduation and just hold onto your degree until you turn in your thesis. Tomorrow, I will help you contact your school to figure that out. Today, let’s just focus on getting you better. You haven’t been sleeping much the past couple of weeks. Let’s just take the rest of the day to rest.” Jisung takes the washcloth and wipes your face, cleaning the tears.

“But Jisung, I can’t—”

“How about we take a small break and you take a nap? And then we can go from there? I know how much it drains you when you have a panic attack.”

“Okay, just a nap.”

“And lunch, you also need to eat too. We can eat in our room if you want. I got some gimbap and ramyeon.”

“Okay, food and a nap.” Jisung takes you back to your shared room and sits you on the bed. He wraps you in the weight blanket that you two use when one of you are feeling anxious. He kisses your forehead before leaving the room for a little bit.

When he comes back he’s carrying two bowls and the bag he had earlier. He carefully sets the food on the table that you bought so you could work while in bed before sitting down in front of you. He watches as your still shaky hands grab the chops sticks and fail to get any noodles before he slowly offers to feed you.

“Do you want me to help you with your homework? I know I’m not the best with school stuff but I’ll try to help you any way I can.” He says, taking a bite of his own food.

“I think I’ll be fine after some rest, but can you just sit with me later while I work maybe?”

“Of course, anything for you, jagi.”

—

Buy me a coffee?

440 notes · View notes

shegxox · 1 year

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unsaid | lookism

getting used to being alone until you met your newfound friends at J high.

notes: hella long, unedited e.e fluff, vasco moments bc i love him, friendship moments, and some '👀' moments as well towards the end.

wc:

a.n: decided to turn this into a series with a scattered plot as well, meaning the timeline wouldn't flow in proper order,

previous : next

SOMETHING was off.

It was oddly peaceful today.

Your hand stopped sketching on your canvas, squinting your eyes in suspicion from the sudden realization. Ever since you got here in J high– specifically after meeting your friends here– there was rarely a normal day.

Rare mostly because of Vasco.

There's no such thing as a quiet day when you're friends with that guy.

He usually bursts through the doors of your classroom every morning just to greet you, or whenever lunchtime draws near he'd suddenly pop out of nowhere and invite you to eat with him together with a bunch of burn knuckles members faithfully trailing behind him.

That's just the fifty percent, the other half goes to the guys at the fashion department.

But today, it seemed like world peace has come and touched today's date for a moment.

No loud greetings from the morning nor lunch invites, you didn't even see Daniel, Mira, Zack– or even Jay with his striking blond hair.

It was definitely odd, you thought to yourself.

Perhaps today is a specially busy day? Exams are drawing near too, so that could be the reason. Then again you barely came out of your classroom today as well. You used your lunchtime to cram your deadlines and have barely eaten much, honestly whenever you start working you just go on and on until someone calls you to pause.

Yeah, that's right.

It really must be a busy day today.

Shrugging to yourself with your formed conclusion, you continued on with your sketch.

"Um, [Name]?" You felt a light tap on your shoulder.

"Hm?"

"This handsome guy from outside wanted me to give this to you. . ."

Handsome?

You finally turned to look at the person talking to you and found them with their hand out and holding a piece of paper.

Was it Daniel? You looked over at your classmate and to the door, but there was no one there. It's either him or Vasco that often visits your classroom

You flashed your classmate a kind smile, taking the paper.

"Thank you, Yeji."

With that, they left your side and went on with their respective work.

Unfolding the paper, your quirked an eyebrow from the message.

It was merely an address of some location and a time specified– 6:00 p.m

It looked shady, but your trust in the message was validated as soon as you recognized Daniel's handwriting and signature at the bottom.

"Ya," you called out to your seatmate, "Do you know what place this is?"

Your classmate turned to you as you showed the paper, subtly covering Daniel's sign with your thumb.

"Ah, that place." They nodded in familiarity. "That's actually a pretty sweet karaoke place."

Question marks immediately formed on top of your head.

"Karaoke?"

"Oh–! if you ever go there they also serve some steaks as well. You have to try the–"

Your classmate's words faded through the background as you started to question yourself.

'Why would they want me to go there?' You wondered as you finish up on your sketch before pulling out your painting materials. 'A special occasion perhaps?'

Sighing, you tried to put the thought at the back of your mind, shifting your focus once again on your project. Though you have to admit, it perfectly played around with your curiosity a tad bit, catching yourself wondering about it every now and then.

"Alright, that's it for today." Your teacher announced. "You are all dismissed– cleaners for today, you know what to do."

"Bye, miss!"

"Thank you, miss!"

You checked the time, there's still an hour and a half before the designated time of the note, what should you do for now?

"I'll stay a bit behind," You told your friend– who was the assigned cleaner for today. "You guys go, I'll clean up after."

"Ah, [Name], you're an angel!" Your friend exclaimed, giving you a quick hug and a playful smooch on the side of your head making you laugh.

"Ya!"

"I owe you one!"

With that, they were out of the room as you continued with your painting. You thought it'd be better to finish it now so you wouldn't have to do much tomorrow since it's the weekend.

"I'll go at 5:30," you uttered to yourself, "Takes 30 minutes to go there anyway. . ."

It was a good plan, except you forgot one thing.

You suck at directions.

And here's one more–

The street where the Karaoke place is?

You've never been there before.

"Fuck." Your eyebrows scrunched together as you look at the GPS on your phone, you're supposed to be facing some shop right now but instead you're facing a dark alleyway.

Timecheck, it's already 5:55. If you don't figure out where you're at right now, you're definitely gonna be late for. . .whatever this is.

"Dammit," You clicked your tongue in annoyance. "How hard is it to find a Karaoke hub with literal neon lights flashing at the front???"

You scratched your head aggressively in irritation, "Where the fuck am I??"

Looking around, the street looked like some scary setting for a horror movie, even worse– it's already getting dark.

You sighed, prompting to call Daniel about your whereabouts. What's the best thing to do when you're lost? Inform your friends, they'll definitely come and find you. . .hopefully.

As you punched in Daniel's number and place the phone on your ear, you just so happen to look up to the skies. Your left eyebrow quirks up from the uncommon sight that you see: balloons.

To be precise, a couple of pink ballons tied together at the end floating away in space.

'Man,' you thought pitifully. 'Whoever kid that let that slip must be crying right now.'

Just as those thoughts came to your mind, you suddenly heard distant cries coming up behind you

"NO! THE BALLOONS!"

"YA! DON'T CHASE THEM, THEY'RE SO FAR UP ALREADY!"

Two voices– the first one sounded so distraught while the other sounded more panicked. They're probably the owners of the balloons that you just saw floating away.

But. . . why do they sound like grown men–

"I CAN'T!" Their voice were getting nearer, they must be right behind you. "THOSE WERE FOR [NAME]!"

Instantly, your eyebrows shot upwards and eyes widened upon hearing your name.

'[Name]?'

Now that you think about it, their voices sound familiar. . .

You whipped your head in their direction, only to be caught in surprise.

"Vasco??"

He was running in your direction as you ended the call on your phone.

"[Name]??" The person behind Vasco cried out your name in surprise.

"Jace??"

"Balloons!" Vasco yelled tearfully as he stretched out his hand–as if doing so would make him able to reach them. Jace finally grabs a hold of his friend's tanktop, making him stop.

"Vasco, [Name]'s here!" He hissed in a hushed tone. "Stop it!"

"But–" Vasco turned to you with a tearful look, pointing at the distant balloons flying higher and higher. "The balloons. . ."

You raised an eyebrow as you placed your hands on his shoulders in an attempt to calm him down.

"Hey, hey– it's just balloons," You assured, soothing his arms with your thumbs. "It's okay. . ?"

"[N-Name], what are you doing here??" Jace intervened. "You're supposed to be at the Ka–"

"But the balloons are for you." Vasco suddenly revealed, tears falling down his face, "And I let them slip away–"

By now, Jace's mouth fell and his eyes turned white from Vasco's words.

"What?" You huffed a laugh, "For me? Why?"

"Cause–"

"AHAHAHA–" Jace slapped a hand over his friend's mouth harshly. "Oh, Vasco! You know him, he has a little crush on you and wanted to get you some!"

You gave Jace a look, ". . .Really? You could do better than that. . ."

"It was supposed to be a surprise." Vasco sulked. "I remembered you saying you wanted them. . ."

Ah.

Your lips parted as realization slowly started to dawn on you.

Surprise. . .

Balloons as something you wanted. . .

But that's for–

You hastily checked your phone and felt your heart pound heavily against your chest.

"You. . ." You uttered under your breath as you gaze at Vasco with wide eyes.

"My birthday. . ."

Jace facepalmed at the background.

Vasco's eyebrows furrowed as he stood up straight, taking your hands with his.

"I'm sorry, [Name]." He says sincerely. "I'll get you more balloons later."

You were still in disbelief from what was happening, "What– When did you–"

"We were supposed to surprise you." Jace sighed, finally deciding to reveal everything. "You said that you never celebrated your birthday so we came up with this."

"Why. . ?"

Why would they ever do this to you? Is your relationship with them even qualified for something like this–

"Why? Cause you're our friend!" Jace said, scoffing a laugh.

A friend.

They consider you as. . . their friend.

Huh.

Your heart throbbed painfully against your chest.

All those years of being alone and being treated like some product instead of a normal human being– they're suddenly flashing in a fast forward motion in your head.

Why now?

Vasco released your hands before taking out something from his pocket.

"Here, these are for you–" Vasco held out a couple of hibiscus in his palms. "The flowers at the store were expensive, so I uh– I just picked these off the street. . ."

Jace sweatdropped, "Vasco. . ."

Weakly lifting your hands in a cupping position, Vasco then placed the flowers on your palm. Most of their petals looked squished–probably because he stored them in his pockets, nevertheless, still beautiful.

You could feel a lump in your throat starting to form, suddenly finding it hard to swallow.

Is it proper to feel like this?

Are you allowed to?

You looked up to Vasco, eyebrows furrowed.

"Vasco. . ."

The man's eyes widened.

"H-Hey, [Name], are you okay?" He asked worriedly, noticing how your eyes suddenly turned glassy. "Do you not. . .like them?"

Jace looked at you as well, concern wrapping his expression.

"[Name]?"

Vasco started to panic, his hands hovering over your form, not knowing what to do.

"S-Sorry! If you dont like them I could just–"

The man's words were cut off as soon as you suddenly threw yourself to him. Wrapping your arms around him, engulfing him in your embrace. You stood on your tiptoes with your face buried on his chest.

For the first time in your life. . .

Are you allowed to feel this happy?

"Thank you." You uttered, before pulling away to look at him once again.

"[Name], you're–"

"This is my first time receiving a gift." You smiled brightly. "The first gift I ever had."

Vasco's eyes soften as he gazed at you, tears flowing down your cheeks.

"So this is what it feels like," You laughed. "I feel so happy."

The two men shared a look before mirroring your smile.

"I'm glad you're happy," Vasco said, placing his big hand on your head, patting it gently.

"I love your gift." You added, holding the flowers close to your chest. "I will treasure it forever."

After all that event, Jace gave Daniel a call and updated him of what happened. Shame that the surprise party was kind of ruined, but even so, it continued.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, [NAME]!" Your friends screamed happily as soon as the door to the karaoke room opened.

Almost everyone was there, giving you bright smiles and genuine expressions on their faces, you could feel butterflies fluttering around your stomach.

"You guys. . ." Your lips curved into a downturned smile, feeling like crying again.

Is this what it really feels like to have others care for you?

You cry either way like before but this time, they were tears of joy.

"Awe, [Name]." Mira approached you with open arms. "Come here."

"Oh, let me join in!" Joy chimed bouncing on her heels before aproaching the two of you.

Daniel stepped forward as well.

"Everyone deserves to be celebrated every once in a while." He smiled. "Thank you for being here, [Name]."

Your lips quivered at his words.

"Ah–" Zoe playfully hit Daniel. "You made her cry!"

"E-Eh???"

"Oh cut the emotional shit!" Zack cried out, standing up on his sit with a mic in hand, smirking.

"Let's get this party started!"

To say that you're happy with today would be an understatement. You're way happier than happy. If you were to describe what you were feeling, it would probably be a mix of all the synonyms of the words happy to form one great word.

You were over the moon.

You felt like you're the sun itself.

It felt too good to be true.

This happiness you feel is something you will hold on to for a long time.

To be surrounded by people who actually care about you makes your heart swell. You've never felt this way before.

"Don't mess this up, you got this." Zack coached you from the side

Jace started to hover his hands on his ears, "Oh god, it's coming."

"Sing from your stomach!" Daniel advised with an excited grin.

"You can do this, [Name]!"

You readied your voice as you held onto the mic tighter.

One, Two–

"–I'M IN MY DREAAAM!"

"WOOO!!"

"LET'S GOOO!"

Chorus of laughter and cheers filled the room, even Jay was dramatically clapping along with the group.

"IU WHO?"

"That was amazing!" Vasco excitedly exclaimed before repeatedly pointing at the songbook. "Let's duet this next!"

"Huh??" Zack made a face. "You can't take that, Mira and I will sing that!"

"Eh? Then just chose another song?"

"No, I can't just do that, it has to be that!"

"Zack. . ."

"Mira, that's our song, right??"

The door to the room suddenly opened and revealed Jay.

"Oh, Jay–" Daniel greeted with an endearing smile. "You're back!"

Jay had stepped out for a moment earlier and has finally returned. The blond gave a small smile and a nod.

He then turned to you, grabbing your attention.

"What is it, Jay."

Suddenly taking something from his side that was out of view, he then held out something and revealed–

"OH MY GOSH!"

You exclaimed, your mouth dropping as you fanned yourself slightly before eagerly making your way to Jay.

"Is this for me??"

The blond nodded.

In his hands, he held a big Alpaca plushie dressed in Gucci that was literally half your size.

"Thank you so much, Jay!" Wrapping your arms around him, you gave him a big hug with the plushie in between the two of you.

"That's so adorable!" Zoe commented, coming in as you pulled away and Jay handed you your gift.

Joy had a look of realization in her face, "So that's what you've been making calls for last night."

"Is this custom-made?" Daniel asked and Jay nodded in reply.

"Ugh, it's so soft!" You exclaimed, hugging the plushie tight.

"Since you're not singing, Mira and I will sing our song!" Zack announced, snatching the mic from Vasco.

"YA!"

The night went on for a few more hours and you're just in complete bliss. Your first birthday celebration is definitely something to remember.

You didn't want it to end, but, alas– some good things come to an end.

As soon as the party was over, half of the people were already drunk–of course, you're one of them.

You didn't know exactly how you even managed to get into your apartment when everything went like a blur to you, you just woke up in your room bedroom and. . .

"What the hell. . ." You murmured to yourself, eyes squinting from the sunlight that was seeping through the window. The hangover– you expected, but your room to be filled with pink balloons floating on your ceiling? You had to check if you were still drunk or dreaming.

Did they do this?

Definitely not, no one can acces your apartment but you.

They can't just decorate your room so suddenly like this?

". . ."

There's only one person you could think of.

As you looked to your side, a large bouquet of roses sat neatly on your nightstand with a black card sticking out in the midst of reds.

Suddenly, you heard a noise just outside your room, and it sounded like someone. . . cooking?

Your eyes widened, hastily getting up from your bed– stumbling on the floor as you did so, you went for the door and almost ripped the hinges from opening it so aggressively.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as soon as you saw the person in your kitchen.

"I see you're awake." They said aloud through the sizzling noises of the pan, not even bothering to look up from their work.

"Did you like the balloons? I remember you liking them like an idiot as a kid."

Your face fell blank. He just had to find you after your birthday huh?

"The roses weren't as fresh as they were yesterday, but they should still be good."

Ah. . .

Since yesterday, huh?

If you your friend's hadn't planned out your party then. . .

"What are you doing here, Gun."

927 notes · View notes

linonyang · 10 months

Text

BF!SKZ WHEN YOU ARE IN STUDY MODE [maknae line]

read hyung line version here

pairings: maknae line x gender-neutral!reader (written separately per member)

genre: fluff, college au

warning: none

word count: 1.6k words (390-400 words per member)

tag list: @awooghan @hwangsify @xiaoderrrr @cosmic-railwayxo (join the tag list here! :D)

☆ JISUNG

he's very clingy, and he misses you very much despite being a busy student like you…

what will he do?

bring you to a 24/7 cafe and stay there overnight :>

so he can have you and coffee—two of his essentials to stay up the whole night

he gets to spend some time with the love of his life and consume the black liquid that will always make his eyes open for several hours

he'd say it's the best combination ngl :ppp

when you have to memorize something, you can read the same line on your laptop repeatedly while leaning on jisung's chest

you get less tension in your body because your senses are overwhelmed with jisung's arms around your torso, his scent, the smile on his face, and his voice whenever he has to read his own paper or help you remember some terms

jisung will find ways to make you remember and understand concepts, such as making acronyms, melodies, or anything that can help you get them into your mind in an instant <33

if he could pull a joke with the term you’re trying to remember, he’d do it!!! he’ll definitely use some of his remaining brain cells to give your mind some room for more concepts to familiarize yourself!

his support and presence comfort you so much that you forget the pressure that has been building up inside you for the past week

he will be wonderfully sustaining this energy until you finish all of your deadlines and exams in the next few days

you guys will continuously do the same routine: meet up after class, head straight to the cafe, study together, and go back home

it may sound simple, but the specifics within all of those have been the best and the most effective for your peace of mind

and it’s all because jisung’s with you all the way <3

he may hop into your apartment and eat some dinner with you if you’re feeling lazy to go to the cafe

and look after you once in a while if you need any help, just like what you two do whenever you’re in the cafe <33

he’d stay over with you when it’s very late and plan out your meals for the next day so you’ll have a big boost!!! so you can be productive!!!

inarguably the best bf to be with imo :D

☆ FELIX

felix can’t keep thinking of anything else if he wants to be with you when you study

you’re his only focus!!!

and he’ll never stop until you successfully finish all of your tasks

(hence why sometimes felix tells you he kinda messed up some recitations in his classes :’< tell him to prioritize his studies too please)

right after his own class, he’ll rush to wherever you are and treat you like royalty as usual!

the only difference here is that he’s physically ready always when you need some company

whenever he has nothing to do, he really finds you and stays by your side until he has to leave once again for a group meeting or attend another class

he thinks there should be someone accompanying you so you wouldn’t trap yourself in any negative thoughts

that’s why he’s also your cheerleader

he has been very optimistic even if you’re on the verge of breaking down

and honestly, it helps you face all of your fears in academics

if you feel you’re gonna miss a task, you always try to remember felix’s words on how much work you did for your assignments and you can pass whatever you did

because, at the end of the day, you did what you can do!!! and that’s what matters!!!

if you got to catch up, good for you!! a cheerful felix is still by your side and applauding your effort!!!

(and he’ll definitely do the same if you passed your work unfinished :D don’t worry, he’s still very proud of you!!)

whenever he’s with you, you convince him to do his own work

but he’s very stubborn </3

as i mentioned earlier, he can’t think of anything else if you’re intensely studying for your exams!

consider him as your coach of some sort… he’ll always be there so you can be comfortably consistent at your own pace :>

maybe when he gets a lot of things on his plate, he’d still accompany you because “i always have the time to do my work :p” (a.k.a. pulling an all-nighter in his apartment)

you’ll look after him next when you’re done with your tasks.

he also needs some of your coaching </3

but that will end up felix getting distracted though because you are with him when he has to study.

good luck :’D he probably wasn’t kidding when he said you’re his focus

☆ SEUNGMIN

seungmin will move in the background when he realizes that you have a lot on your plate

he works in the morning so he doesn’t do too much of studying under the moonlight

but you do the opposite

what seungmin will do is organize some things around you

he wouldn’t mind sorting out some things you weren’t able to clean up on the other side of the table

especially that stack of papers you’ve been reading for the last two weeks

your whiteboard, filled with your list of deadlines, will also be updated by seungmin!

“are you done with that one quiz last week?” “yep, i’m done” and there goes seungmin erasing that one written on the whiteboard

this is one random thought, but seungmin will definitely sort out some food in your fridge while you’re busy on your desk

you let him munch on whatever he’ll find in your fridge

he’ll throw out food that has been stocked in there for a long time

if he finds something for you to eat, he would bring it to you and will push it near you on your desk if you decline his love for you (a.k.a. silently giving food haha)

“c’mon, go eat!!! :<” “let me finish this bit?” *seungmin pushes the orange juice and already-heated chicken pie near you* “no, take a sip and a bite first!!!”

and he’d finish his adventure in your fridge once you take that sip and bite lmao

he’ll come back with his stomach full, with more food for you to eat

there is a high chance that he’ll scold you if he comes back after an hour and you haven’t finished that small portion of food he gave you :<

watch out for a very caring seungmin

he will not hesitate to feed you while you’re reviewing your books!

once your stomach’s full because of the food seungmin fed you and your mind’s overwhelmed because of information overload, seungmin will accompany you through your routine until you go to bed

he’s sooo willing to prepare your pajamas while you’re in the shower

he will also volunteer to do your skin routine if you do that

you wouldn’t be surprised when you’ll finally lie down in bed and you’re immediately wrapped with your blanket (that’s all seungmin’s doing :p)

you’ll have a refreshing morning with seungmin wrapped around you too :’>

☆ JEONGIN

if you’re in his room at the dorms (so he can look after you occasionally haha), he wouldn’t mind giving you the privacy and peace you need so you can focus on studying

because he can’t trust you being alone in your room :< you might get distracted if you’re alone in your dorm!

unless you ask him to stay with you :D

he’s just one call away! he’ll be with the boys, playing mario kart with felix for a few hours

he will also scold the boys if any of them have the audacity to make noise

“keep quiet changbin!!!!” because the man shouted when he lost against chan in tekken 7 :(((

he’s just… he wants some bit of silence in the dorm since the walls are quite thin and you can hear almost any sound outside of his room lol

then you’ll hear the boys squeal and tease him at how sweet he has been to you

rip jeongin’s ears

since he’s outside of his room, you wouldn’t notice whether or not he went out of the dorm

don’t be surprised if he leaves you some coffee or muffins after buying his americano outside with the boys

he drops it off very quick! you weren’t even able to say thank you to him :<<

but you did find a cute note attached to the food he gave to you :DD

“i love u :* such a hardworking baby :< always know that you did your best to prepare for your exams, whether the results are good or bad! mwah <3”

you value that so much :(((

he leaves you motivating notes a lot until the point you have kept a box full of them from jeongin!

he’s so strict about your studying, so he really doesn’t get in his room unless you say so

but of course, you know this is not your home so you still let him in any time, especially at night

you can trust him to not distract you

you still go to bed together :p he can’t survive without you in his arms

unfortunately, he’s so stubborn about this fact^ sigh

that’s why when the exams week is over, he greets you with a tight hug and tons of kisses

such a clingy baby after a week of barely any physical affection for you

“can we have a date now?”

“right away?”

“heh… yes?”

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ghostchems · 11 months

Note

Excuse me chems while I'll be bold requesting from the prompt list you reblogged: quick glances that turn into a longing, admirable gaze + "you love me?" "yeah, i do." "i love you too..." with Copia

about 700 words of cuteness below the cut :')

You can’t help but look at him at any chance you get. It had only been a few weeks since you started as his assistant and you still couldn’t believe it. He was the highest ranking member of the clergy and you were assigned to work side by side with him on a daily basis. His voice was almost mesmerizing, even when he was on the phone just chatting.

You weren’t sure what to expect when working for him after all of the whispers and rumors about the other papas. You were pleasantly surprised. Papa was respectful and sweet. He asked you about your life outside of being his assistant, he asked about your favorite books and movies and foods. He really wanted to get to know you. After he found out what your favorite candy was (sour skittles), you came to work the next day with one of your drawers full of them. The only thing you could do was give him a bag full of reese’s peanut butter cups the next day to call it even.

Sometimes when you would glance at him, you would find him already looking at you. His eyes would widen and he would quickly look away. There were times when it would happen to you, too. You would be looking, he catches you, a quick blush would form on your cheeks and you would turn back to your papers.

After a few more weeks of working together, when he would catch your gaze you would hold it. The two of you would look at each other until you were both smiling and then return to work. It felt unprofessional but if both of you were doing it, did it matter? You started to find yourself daydreaming when you weren’t around him, thinking of him in a way that was definitely unprofessional.

One night, deadlines had the two of you working late. The sun set and you both still had your noses to your desks, offering small updates or asking quick questions of each other as the hours passed. Your eyes start to grow heavy after a while and you sit back, needing a break from trying to make sense of financial statements. You feel a strong hand on your shoulder and nearly jump, a sharp gasp falling from your lips.

“Oh! I-I’m sorry, sorella.” He squeezes your shoulder and you twist around in your chair to look up at him. “I just, eh, wanted to make sure you were still awake.”

“I am getting sleepy but I’m up.” You rub at your eyes. Copia is so close to you now that you can smell his cologne. His grip on your shoulder loosens as he walks in front of you to lean against your desk. He is smiling faintly, his eyes twinkling in the lowlight.

“I have a question for you, cara.”

“Of course, Papa. What is it?”

“You love me?” His question hangs in the air as your mouth drops open. You feel your face flush but the way he’s looking at you right now makes you realize it was true. It wasn’t just a crush – you loved him. You loved the way his eyes would crinkle when he would smile. You loved how he would say goodnight to his rats each night before retiring to his quarters. And more than anything, you loved the way he looked at you.

“Yeah, I do.” You all but whisper, your hands fidgeting in your lap but you’re unable to look away from him. He leans down to you and his gloved hand brushes against your cheek. You suck in a sharp breath. Even through the gloves you can feel how warm he is.

“I love you, too…” Copia hums and leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. He said it back. He said it back and your brain completely blanks. When he pulls away, you’re smiling like an idiot and your eyes have lit up in a way he hasn’t seen since you discovered the drawer of sour skittles. “Let us get some rest, si? The, e-eh… papers will still be here in the morning.”

#copia #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus x reader #popia #popia request

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harlowcomehome · 1 year

Text

“Almond joys and snoballs!”

The first thing you thought about when you woke up these days was your pregnancy cravings. This was your first pregnancy so you weren’t mentally prepare for how strong they would be. More often than not it was something sweet and it came frequently and intensely. You were trying to be good about it at first, ignoring them as best you could.

However, you were now five months in, and it was getting harder to ignore. Jack constantly asked you if you were craving things, knowing you weren’t going to speak up about it. “I’m fine baby” you’d say but he knew better than that, pestering you until he got an answer.

You had eaten breakfast, hoping that would calm your cravings but when the afternoon came around you couldn’t help it anymore. You started to look through your cabinets for something similar to what you wanted. Jack was doing something on his laptop, he was sat at the kitchen table and watched as you shuffled through the house in your fuzzy socks and comfy lounge clothes. “You getting hungry baby? I can get us something for lunch.” He took the headphones off his ears to give you his full attention.

“Mmmm, she wants something coconut” you rubbed your belly as you looked at him with a pout. He laughed as he set his headphones down and walked over to you. “Oh, she wants something coconut? Just her?” He teased as he bent down to kiss you. “I mean we both do, I guess” you giggled and he looked in the cabinets with you. “I don’t think we have anything, I can go get something for you though.”

“I don’t need it baby, just finish up your work. I should probably just make us lunch anyway” you pulled out a box of noodles from the pantry. “Stir fry sound good?” He nodded giving you a kiss before he went back to the table. Jack knew you were right, he had a deadline to meet and he wasn’t even halfway done with what he was doing.

While you made lunch, Jack was trying to come up with a master plan to get you what you wanted. He was texting Urban to see if he was available, knowing there would be leftover stir fry and using that as a way to convince him to go to the store.

Urb 🍃: I’ll go. What kind of coconut stuff does she want?

Jack hadn’t recalled you being specific about it. He just knew that when you had a craving it was intense. He responded “anything and everything? Just to be safe.”

Urban understood the assignment, grabbing almond joys, snoballs, coconut water and a big bag of coconut shavings. He really wanted some stir fry but he also knew just how appreciative you’d be for it all.

You had just sat down next to Jack at the table when you heard the doorbell ring. You immediately looked at him confused as he hopped up and opened the door. You turned to see that it was Urban, standing up immediately to greet him. “I just made stir fry, if you want some!” You went in for a hug seeing he was holding a bag.

“Whatcha got there?” You asked excitedly. Urban and Jack both laughed. “Well workaholic here sent me on a coconut related mission” Urban smiled as he handed you the bag.

You saw the snoball box immediately and dropped the bag where you were standing, ripping the box open. “Oh my god” you moaned as you took a bite making them both laugh again. “Have as much stir fry as you want Urby, I’m in heaven” you giggled as you sat on the couch.

Jack walked over to you and you gave him a kiss. “Thank you baby” you giggled before taking another bite. “Anything for my queen” he smirked, before kissing your belly.

“Since I’m here I thought I’d try to plead my case again” Urban laughed as he filled up his plate.

“Dude, Urban is not a unisex name” Jack rolled his eyes making you giggle.

“We are not naming her after you, Wyatt!” You laughed.

“Urban would be a pretty cool name for a girl, I think you guys are missing an opportunity!” He shrugged as he sat down with his plate.

“Plus, if the two of you don’t decide on a name soon I’m just going to tell everybody who asks that you’re naming her Urban.”

You and Jack rolled your eyes and laughed, it was never a dull moment with Urban around.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #Jack Harlow imagines #Jack Harlow Blurb #jack harlow concepts

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auroraesmeraldarose · 3 months

Text

Professor Dekarios AU fic pt2 - also available on AO3 for your easy reading pleasure :)

————

The next six weeks were a blur of work, lectures, and tutorials. The first assignment deadline was on the horizon, and Helene had been working feverishly in as much of her spare time as possible on it. Her crush on Professor Gale Dekarios had not yet disappeared, though she was quite well distracted by all her reading and research, alongside her day job. Gale finished his next tutorial with an announcement that brought that crush quite clearly back into focus, though.

“Well, team, you have three more weeks until your first assignment is due. I would absolutely love to hear from you about your plans for it; if anyone is interested in a one to one tutorial to discuss your research, just sign up on the form I’ll email to you now.”

Helene had of course been one of the first to sign up, and was quite looking forward to some time one on one with Gale, even if it was through a screen, and even if it did make her feel a little nervous.

The evening of the private tutorial came quickly. Gale sat in his study, Tara on his lap, and a glass of wine on the desk in front of him. When he offered these one to one tutorials they inevitably ended up being after eight in the evening, when his students were finished with their day jobs and family obligations. A little glass of wine felt like the only way to motivate himself to get through them, sometimes. Tonight he only had the one tutorial, and had considered trying to reschedule it and give himself the night off; he was fond of the student he was meeting, though, and that was enough to convince him not to reschedule. She had been an active participant in all their discussions, offering some insightful comments that suggested she would do particularly well in the course. Over the past six weeks she had been at every lecture and tutorial, except one. Even then she had sent a very polite, apologetic email explaining that she had to be at her workplace’s Open Evening until nine that night, but would of course catch up on the recording as soon as she was home. She was clearly a bit of an over-achiever, and Gale usually liked that in a student, provided it wasn’t accompanied by attention-seeking or hubris. Helene, though active in their sessions, did not dominate them, and seemed quite modest in her own estimations of her knowledge. Perhaps too modest, in fact. And so, as eight o’clock rolled around, he found himself quite looking forward to hearing about her plans for the first assignment.

“Now, Helene, would it offend you, or result in you reporting me to the University if I indulge in a small glass of wine while we discuss your assignment plans? It’s absolutely fine if you’d rather I didn’t - but these late tutorials always feel a little more pleasant with a libation!”

Helene laughed, and turned on her webcam, to reveal that she too had a glass of red wine in her own hand.

“I wasn’t being rude, having the camera off - I was just going to finish my wine first! I didn’t want you to think I was being unprofessional, but I really needed a drink this evening.” Her voice was half apologetic, half laughing, and Gale enjoyed finally being able to put a face to the voice. His eyes flickered over the image on the screen. She was younger than many of his Masters students; she looked to be late twenties, early thirties perhaps - a lot of his students were retired already, and using that retirement to further their education. She was pretty, too, though of course he would never make such a comment about a student anywhere except in his thoughts. Her hair was long, red, and wavy, down almost to her elbows, judging from the few curls that hung in front of her shoulder. She had big, dark eyes and pale freckled skin, which looked even paler against the low necked black top she had on. Behind her were numerous shelves of books that almost rivalled his own, and dotted along the shelves were candles, crystals, ornaments and pictures.

“I imagine in your job you quite often feel the need for a glass of wine of an evening. I don’t envy you; teaching adults is much easier than teenagers, I would think.” He managed to stop thinking about her appearance long enough to speak, and his face was sympathetic.

“It certainly has its difficulties… And today has just been full of those particular difficulties.” Helene sighed, and took a sip of her wine. “But you don’t want to hear about my day, I’m already taking up a chunk of your evening! I’m sorry I chose such an awkward time for a tutorial, by the way…” She trailed off, chewing her bottom lip in a way that made Gale feel a little jolt in his stomach which he firmly squashed back down.

“It really is not a problem, I realise many of my students have jobs and families and such that have to come first. We can’t all live an ascetic, hermit like life of academic study, like me!” He laughed self-deprecatingly as he spoke, and the cat on his lap hopped up onto the desk, clearly disturbed by the movement.

“At least you have Tara to keep you company,” Aurora smiled, before continuing, “I’m starting to talk to my own notes as if they’re going to talk back!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I often do that. It’s only if they do start talking back you need to be concerned.” He smiled, his dark eyes sparkling. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but uh… Do you have a decent, uh… Support network? Masters level study can be draining, especially alongside a job like yours. It’s important you have people around to help ease the burden. A roommate, a partner, a husband or wife, perhaps?” Gale hoped his casual tone kept his words professional; he wasn’t prying into her personal life, just making sure she would be well-supported in her studies. It was part of his job, to look after his students’ wellbeing, and make sure they did too. It was definitely, absolutely, professional, not personal.

Helene felt a hint of a flush creep over her chest at the question, and bit her lip nervously again before responding, causing another little jolt in Gale’s stomach as he watched. He was very glad you couldn’t tell through the camera how focused on her lips he was, and quickly tore his eyes back to hers as she responded.

“Well, I have good friends who will look after me when I have the inevitable MA-related breakdown! And people at work are being helpful about it, letting me skip some meetings to do work for this instead. But, no, at home it’s just me… Means fewer distractions from my studies, I suppose!”

“Ah, well… Just do make sure to reach out to those friends when you need to. And me, of course; I am here to support you through your studies this year, after all. A breakdown shared is a breakdown halved, as they say!” Gale grinned enthusiastically at his own joke, and even more so when Helene let out a little snort of laughter at him. “Now, on to the assignment; tell me everything - what are your thoughts so far?”

Helene spent the next twenty minutes in deep discussion about her assignment plan; Gale listened intently, adding questions and comments as she went. It was a good plan, and he was particularly enthused that Helene seemed to be really making the task her own. The statement for the assignment was a fairly straightforward one at first glance, and each year brought forth the same essay in slightly different words over and over. It was only ever a few exceptional students who managed to see through it and make a much more powerful argument in opposition; Helene was one of them. Although at first she had been tentative about disagreeing with the source material, his encouragement soon had her arguing quite fervently against it, and he enjoyed the passion with which she delivered her ideas. By the time the tutorial was supposed to be at a close, they were still deep in conversation, though they had found themselves drifting from the original topic. It wasn’t until Tara began pawing at Gale anxious for her supper that he looked at the clock, and realised their twenty minute tutorial had almost run into a full hour.

“Oh, Helene, I’m so sorry - I’ve kept you talking for almost an hour! You’ll have to forgive me, I do get carried away with the sound of my own voice sometimes.”

“No, prof- sorry, Gale, it’s my fault! I hadn’t even realised the time. I’m sure you have far more important things to do than listening to me ramble on!”

“It’s been a pleasure, really. I don’t think I’ve ever had such an enlightening and enjoyable tutorial.” He was grinning, the smile lines around his eyes creasing as he did so, and making him look even dreamier, in Helene’s opinion.

“It’s certainly been the most interesting one I’ve had, too. Thank you, Gale.” She smiled warmly back at him through the screen, her eyes flickering down to her desktop then back up to him, and making his stomach jolt for the third time that evening. Tara began pawing at him again, and Helene laughed softly. “I think Tara might be feeling a little left out, so I suppose I should let you go…”

“Yes, she’s waiting to be fed, I think. I’ll see you at our next session, then. Good night, Helene.” He gave her a little wave, and Tara batted at his hand as he did so.

“Thank you again. Good night, Gale, and good night Tara!” Aurora waved back, still with the same warm smile, as she clicked the x in the corner of the screen.

For a moment, Gale stared unseeing at the blank screen, as Tara continued to paw at him. He really had enjoyed his evening, and was surprised by just how much. He dragged his mind back to the present, and went to feed Tara, trying hard to forget the image of Helene smiling warmly, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. Gale continued trying to shake the thoughts from his mind as he collected the untouched glass of wine from his desk; he had been far too invested in their conversation to even stop for a sip. It was only just gone nine, but Gale decided to take his wine and a book to bed; he didn’t think he’d be able to concentrate on much more than that for the rest of the evening. Even then, he found it hard to keep his mind on his book, and had to repeatedly scold himself for letting his thoughts drift back to the conversation he’d had with Helene, and even more so when those thoughts drifted from their conversation to the way she bit her bottom lip. After an hour or so, and very few pages actually read, Gale gave up, and eventually went to sleep still trying to get Helene out of his mind.

Helene, in her own flat, was similarly finding it difficult to stop thinking about the way Gale had grinned at her, the way his eyes sparkled when he was talking passionately about something, and the little lines between his eyebrows when he was listening intently. She tried to focus on writing up her notes from their meeting, and solidifying the points they’d discussed into a formal plan for her assignment… But she kept hearing Gale’s voice in her head as she wrote, and remembering the way he raised a finger in the air when making a new point. God, she really thought she’d be over this stupid crush by now, but he was making it very difficult by being so damn attractive. Helene forced her mind back to her study, and found herself still at her desk gone midnight, drifting between academia and thoughts of Gale.

#fanfic #bg3 gale #bg3 #gale dekarios #fluff #gale of waterdeep #bg3 au #professor dekarios #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction

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dlwritings · 2 years

Text

Bad Again | Peter Parker

masterlist found here

pairing - college!Peter x reader word count - 2,699 warnings - reader is battling depression/anxiety and has thoughts of wanting to hurt herself A/N - just something that’s been sitting in my drafts | gif found on Pinterest

summary - You were getting to that point in the school year where everything was overwhelming, and you just wanted to give up. Luckily, Peter Parker isn’t going to let you do that.

How do you tell your professor that you can’t make it to class because you’re afraid you might purposefully crash your car if you get behind the wheel?

Right. You can’t. So you don’t.

You paint on your brave face -the one that so nicely makes it seem like you have your life together- and you get up. You make a cup of coffee, do your make-up just right, and go through all the motions. When your roommate skips class because of her own academic stress, you do not cave. You continue going through the motions, because attendance is required and you’re only a few months away from graduation. You can hold it together for that much longer.

You don’t want to be a statistic, so you stay on the road while driving, even though it would be so easy to just swerve into a light post and call it good.

You weren’t sure when things got bad again, but they did. Part of you was sure it had something to do with your roommate having a boyfriend and you being terribly single. Your constant need to be validated wasn’t being fulfilled, and you missed your mom and your best friends from back home. Your college was almost 400 miles away from your hometown, so you couldn’t just pop by for a visit. You just needed to survive for another month, and then you could visit home for spring break. 30 days. They’d fly by.

You sat in the back of your class in between your friends, greeting them the way you knew they expected you to. For the most part, you were good. You could focus on the lesson and nod along with the professor, and you still smiled at all of your classmates when they sent you a wave. You still shared silly glances with Peter, your friend who sat in the front row whom you had developed a crush on. You still knew how to go through the motions.

Until there were about 30 minutes left of class.

The professor was listing off upcoming deadlines and explaining how to apply for your required internship placement, and something snapped. It was too much. Too much information coming in all at once. You needed out. The room was closing in, and you knew you’d break down if you didn’t leave right away. The professor had just split everyone into groups to discuss the peer reviewed journal you were assigned to read over the weekend, so you used that as your chance to slip out.

You were not aware that Peter had been watching you the whole time. He noticed the way you ran your fingers through your hair and pressed your lips into a tight line as you left: two sure fire signs something was wrong.

He had an internal battle with himself for a moment, and eventually decided to stand up and follow you out. Peter walked down the hallway for a while, looking down other corridors to see where you had gone. When he approached the women’s bathroom, he hesitated. Opening the door could pretty much only end two ways, so he was trying to decide if the risk of the negative possibility was worth the chance of the positive one.

He decided it was and slowly pushed the door open.

You tried to quiet your sobs when you heard the bathroom door open. You had been the only one in there when you walked in, and you were so hoping it would stay that way. You covered your mouth with your hand and closed your eyes, still seated on the closed toilet, as you silently prayed for the person to leave.

“(Y/N)?”

Your eyes widened when you heard Peter’s voice. You stayed dead silent, waiting for his next move.

“(Y/N), are you in here?”

“No,” you replied weakly. Peter stopped in front of your stall and knocked on it softly.

“You want to talk?” he asked. You sniffed, not knowing what to say. Peter didn’t speak again, but he did slide to the ground and press his back against the stall door. “We don’t have to talk,” he said. “But I’m here if you need me. Unless you want to be alone.”

“I don’t,” you said, your voice cracking. And you didn’t. Truly the last thing you wanted to be was alone. Peter stood up from the ground, and you slowly undid the lock of the bathroom door and opened it.

Peter took in your tear stained cheeks and sighed. He crouched in front of you so his face was level with yours and wiped some tears with his thumbs. Your lower lip started to quiver, so you tugged it between your teeth and let a shaky breath out of your nose. “Stressed?” he asked. You nodded and felt tears pooling in your eyes again. You knew it was stupid. You knew everyone had the same workload as you, so why were you the only one breaking down? You cursed your anxiety as another tear fell down your cheek. “Tell you what,” Peter said. “Did you drive to campus?”

You shook your head no. “I walked.” You lived in an off campus apartment that was still within walking distance of the school. So did Peter.

“Perfect,” he said. “We can go back to my place. I’ve got ice cream and movies, and it’s Friday so there’s no need to talk about any homework.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” you started, “but I should honestly get started on the reading and the written response and-”

“Nope,” Peter said, cutting you off. “It’s already 6:30. That’s well past homework time on a Friday night.” He stood up from his crouching position and reached into his pocket. “You go out to my car, and I’ll tell prof you got sick and needed to go home. I’ll grab your stuff and meet you out there.” You nodded and mouthed a thank you to Peter. He left the bathroom, and you took a moment to wipe away some mascara stains from under your eyes.

You only had to wait a few moments in Peter’s car before he was there. The ride to his apartment was quiet. You had one of your legs tucked under you, and the other was pulled up to your chest. You rested your chin on your knee as you stared out the window, trying to stop the waterfall of tears that wanted to pour from your eyes.

Peter pulled into the parking spot outside his apartment and turned to look at you. You clearly hadn’t even noticed the car had stopped. You didn’t move at all, and your eyes were still staring blankly out the window. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then laid a gentle hand on your shoulder. You jumped and looked at him. “We’re here,” he said. You nodded numbly and unbuckled your seatbelt to follow him to his apartment. Peter hated seeing you like this. He loved you so deeply, and he hated when you were going through a specifically difficult depressive episode. He knew all the signs. Always noticed the blank stares and lack of smile. You had been bad for a while, he noticed. He just didn’t know how to help you. Didn’t know if you wanted his help.

You did. So desperately.

Peter guided you to his couch where you sat down and pulled your knees close to your chest. “You want to take a bath?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck. You shrugged and put your chin on your knees. “I’m gonna run you a bath, okay? I’ve still got some of those bath bombs you gave me for Christmas.”

“Okay,” you whispered. Peter crouched in front of you so that he could actually see your eyes.

“I’ll be back in just a minute,” he said. You nodded again. Peter was hesitant to leave you alone. He didn’t want you to break down on your own. He waited impatiently for the bath to fill up, tossing in a bath bomb and watching it dissolve. Once it was ready, he grabbed you some of his clothes to change into, then went back to the living room to get you. You hadn’t moved from your position, and you were still staring blankly across the room. “(Y/N)?” he said, getting your attention. You turned to look at him. He noticed the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “That bath’s ready.” You nodded and stood up, walking to the bathroom. “I left you some clothes,” he said.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Holler if you need anything,” he said. You nodded, so Peter left you alone in the bathroom.

As soon as you sunk into the tub, you pulled your knees up to your chest for the third time that day, realizing that it was a comforting pose for you. It was like you were trying to hold yourself together when all you wanted to do was fall apart. Before you knew it, you were crying. Thankfully, you had gotten exceptionally good at sobbing silently.

Why were you falling apart so much?

You got out of the bath after a little while and tugged Peter’s clothes on. You didn’t soak for too long, because it wasn’t making you feel any better. If anything, sitting alone with your thoughts was making things worse. You tied your hair up in a bun and scrubbed your make-up off your face, then left Peter’s bathroom. You heard the TV going in his bedroom, so you made your way there. He had been laying in bed, his head propped up against some pillows, but sat up as soon as you walked in. “How’re you doing?” he asked. You shrugged, and Peter sighed. “C’mere,” he said. You did and got into bed next to him. You laid close to his body, resting your head on his chest. “You want to talk to me?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled.

“What’s on your mind?”

You sighed. “Just don’t understand what’s wrong with me. Don’t understand why I’ve been so bad lately.”

“You stressed?”

“Not really,” you said. “I guess that’s a part of it. But really, classes are great and, and work has been going well. I guess I just, I don’t know. My roommate just got a boyfriend, so I’ve been feeling so alone lately. And so tired all the time. And I just don’t want to be here anymore. And I just want to graduate. And I want to be happy, but I don’t know how to do that. And I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Peter said, brushing the back of his hand against your cheek. You were shaking so much, Peter felt like he had to hold you tighter. “Hey, hey, take a breath,” he said.

“I hate this,” you croaked out. “I don’t want to be like this anymore.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could take it all away for you.” You placed a soft kiss to his neck, just to let him know you appreciated it. Your lips lingered longer than you planned for them to. When you finally pulled away, you kept your face nuzzled against his neck. Your nose brushed across his skin until you kissed him again. Peter moved away from you so he could look down into your eyes.

“Peter,” you whispered. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again before he licked his own. Before you could say anything else, Peter pressed his lips to yours. You let a sigh pass your lips before you kissed him back. He put his hands on your hips and rolled your bodies so he was hovering over you. He pushed his tongue past your lips and dragged one hand up your torso. His thumb brushed the underside of your breast, but he pulled away just as fast.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you like this,” he whispered. You could tell he was using a lot of self-restraint, which you somewhat admired. “You’re hurt and, and sad and, and I don’t want to do something you might regret tomorrow.” You felt more tears coming to your eyes as he hung his head and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, covering your face with your hands. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just did that. I’m so fucked up. I’m sorry.”

“Stop, stop,” he said, putting his thumbs on your cheekbones and wiping your tears away. “I’m sorry. I feel like I’m just making this all worse.”

“I’m just a walking disaster,” you said. “This is so stupid. I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid!” Peter said. “There’s just a lot going on in your brain. And that’s okay. I just think you should be doing this with someone you want to do this with, not me just cuz I’m here.”

You tilted your head slightly and sniffed the rest of your tears back up. “Wait, are you being serious?” you said. Peter mirrored your confused expression.

“What?” he said. “Did I say something wrong?”

“You are someone I want to do this with,” you said. “You are the only someone I want to do this with.” Peter sat back on his heels allowing you to sit up as well. He looked taken aback by what you had said, and all you wanted was for him to respond.

“Seriously?” he said. You swallowed back more nervous tears and nodded.

“And I’m not just saying that because I’m hurt or sad or, or lonely,” you said. “I mean it. But I get that I’m a lot to handle, and this is a totally not romantic way to do this, and we both know I’m a disaster, so I know-”

Peter cut you off by kissing you again. He pulled away before you could even fully process what he had done. He chuckled at the surprised look on your face. “You’re right,” he said. “You are a disaster.” You pouted, and he grinned and brushed his thumb across your lower lip. “But I don’t mind,” he said.

“You can’t fix me,” you said. “This is just how I am.”

“I have no desire to fix you,” he said. “I like you just the way you are.”

“Are you sure about that?” you said. Peter tilted his head slightly in confusion, and you sighed. “I don’t even like me the way I am.”

“I’m positive,” he said. He put his hand on your cheek and brushed his thumb across your cheekbone. “Disaster or completely put together, I like you.” You couldn’t help but smile, and Peter mirrored your expression.

“I’m sorry if you have to comfort me all the time,” you said.

“Stop apologizing,” he said. “I don’t have to be here, but I am. Doesn’t that say something?” You swallowed back more tears -god, they just kept coming- and nodded.

“It says everything,” you said. “Thank you.” Peter pulled you in for another kiss, holding you close to him, before he pulled away. He tugged your body close to his and opened his legs so you could lay between them. Then, he picked up the remote and started flicking through Netflix on the TV. You looked up at him as he tried to decide on what to pick, his lower lip caught between his teeth in concentration. You tilted your head up and pressed a kiss to his jawline, making him look down at you with a smile. Neither of you said anything, just turned your attention back to the TV. You put your hand on top of Peter’s that was resting on your stomach, brushing your thumb across the back of his hand.

Despite Peter’s new role in your life, you still found there were a lot of days where getting out of bed and driving safely to school was a challenge. Just like you had told him, he couldn’t fix you. But he wasn’t trying to. All he wanted to do was be there for you whenever you asked him to be. Because he liked you just the way you were.

----- ----- ----- -----

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#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #fluff #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spider-man #spider-man imagine #marvel #avengers

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funaisfinest · 1 year

Text

Kinetic Productions Internship Day 11 (2/17/23)

Hours completed: 8, from. 9am to 5pm

Total time completed: 78 hours and 50 minutes.

Today Ryan let me get behind the computer a little more to finish the supers for Act 2 of his documentary, I had to utilize a preset template to flesh out the lower thirds of the documentary. I never mentioned it but this piece covers how Japanese Islanders won redress after to the prejudice they faced after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. After finishing most of the supers, I wanted to learn more about a documentarian, like how long he usually stays on a project, how he gets paid, and when he plans on finishing this piece. Overall, I found out Ryan won’t be getting paid until the project is completed — the company is being paid in installments but Ryan, personally, hasn’t received a dime until after he’s done. He said he won’t get a majority of the money but a big chunk because he has the most influence/hours on the project. Although I find this lifestyle scary, he assured me that there are plenty of projects he does in between to make money, which made me respect the hustle even more. Multi-tasking and having this massive deadline looming over me would kill me. Also, I learned he was given this assignment all the way back in the summer of 2021, so the amount of foresight a company needs before they can spread the message they want is interesting. Besides that, Ryan was working on cutting time again, and good news, he thinks soon he’ll have it under time so he can get it reviewed. There’s a lot of subtle tricks he implements to get it down under, firstly with eliminating dead space in sentences, like umms. When removing these time killers, it’s important to match the cadence of the interviewee, and if there’s a drastic jump cut because of the manipulation, either cover it up with supplemental imagery or use a variety of transitions such as a morph cut, angle change (need to have shot with multiple cameras already ), etc. Knowing he shot this footage maybe a year ago, it’s amazing to see the foresight he possessed to give himself as much coverage as he could to play around with. Preparation and organization are key concepts I learn from Ryan everyday. Once Ryan left, I shadowed Zak who showed me some music videos he made and edited in the past; music videos are a topic I’m passionate about so it was a blast. Zak even let me look at the timeline to see how the video was constructed. We ended up watching plenty of music videos because he wanted me to study the language they used and to take inspiration from examples of phenomenal imagery. I have a lot of studying to do' but he also maintained that I should spend my time recording video whenever I can. It could be for editing later on, practicing compositing, getting over my shyness, and more. It’s nice to have mentors who give me tips on my next steps, especially when they follow up with a technical breakdown of how everything is done. I appreciate the direction they give me.

They have two (pun) many apes with headphones on, I guess I’m the third

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earnmoneyonlinetoday · 2 years

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Earn Money Via Freelancing

What is freelancing?

In the beginning, freelancers were people who would work independently and offer their services to various companies. Today, freelance jobs have become big business and are often called contract work or project based employment. Freelance jobs allow professionals to make money doing what they love while working at home, at their own pace and schedule. These opportunities are perfect if you want flexibility, autonomy, and independence. And let’s face it, who doesn’t want those things!

How does freelancing differ from traditional employment?

Traditional employment is based on a 9-5 shift where you show up, do your job, go home. While freelancing is different in that you may not always know how much you’ll earn, you’re still able to set your hours and pick your projects. You’re also free to choose your clients and projects, which means you don’t need to work on someone else’s terms. Plus, some freelancers find that they enjoy having their own clients to keep them busy and engaged.

Why should I consider freelancing instead of going back to school or taking a full time job?

The best thing about freelancing is that you get to choose your clients, projects, and hours. If you don’t feel like doing something today, you don’t have to—you can take off whenever you’d like. As long as you meet your deadlines, you can even leave early without feeling guilty. Another great benefit of freelancing is that you don’t need to deal with office politics or stressful coworkers. Working remotely puts you in control of your day and gives you the opportunity to focus on yourself.

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There are many ways to begin freelancing. You can create your own website, blog, or social media page to attract potential clients. Or you could contact local businesses, schools, non-profit organizations, etc. to inquire about possible projects. You could also use sites like Upwork or Fiverr to seek out assignments. Finally, you might look into joining online communities to connect with other freelancers. Whatever method you choose, just remember to treat your new career as a hobby until you build enough experience and contacts to turn it into a serious income stream.

What are my options once I’ve started freelancing?

Once you’ve built up an impressive portfolio of completed projects and client testimonials, you’ll be ready to apply for more permanent positions. But before you jump right into applying for full time jobs, make sure you first network with local businesses, schools, etc. to explore other opportunities that may exist outside of the norm. You never know where the next great opportunity may come from.

Don’t have a job? Don’t worry ! Here are the methods to earn money online while sitting at home. Starting freelancing in 2022 is easy and a very good way to earn thousands of dollars per month. There are thousands of start-ups being introduced to the market daily, and every bigger company prefers freelancers for their big and small jobs. In this article, you will be guided to five websites that are the most popular in recent times.

WEBSITES TO START FREELANCING CARRIER

Fiverr

Fiverr.com is one of the biggest platform which hold millions of freelancers. You will find work starting from a question solver to works such as website building. Starting a freelancing carrier in this platform is a very good idea as it allows gigs from new users too.

Process-

Bases on the knowledge and skills, freelancer sign ups here as create a vert nice profile with a very impressive port-folio. The freelancers then able to create gigs, which describes their area of works. Now the clients who are in needed of the work that are mentioned in he gigs, they directly place order and the freelancer, does the work as promised in the gig and in the favor of client requirement. The money that is earned by the freelancer can be withdrawn by PayPal and Payoneer.

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Fiverr.com is the most popular freelancing website and its a very old platform.

There are millions of buyers and recruiters who prefer fiverr.com as a platform to find and give their works to freelancers.

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Advantages-

The work done here is kept confidential.

There are many categories and sub-categories to choose. Clients here can choose from different sub-categories and select freelancer based on their need. Hence, as a freelancer you get to choose a variety of sub-categories to make gigs.

The freelancer can choose the buy courses present in fiverr and upscale skill and the skill badge will be shown in the freelancer’s fiverr profile. This badges will create a positive impact in the mind of clients and in this way the sales are increased.

The payment withdrawal is fast and secure. PayPal and Payoneer are the options available and this method is widely accepted.

#earnmoneyonline #earnmoneyviafreelancing

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shespeaksinsongs · 3 years

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Not A Leftie | Draco x Reader

A/N: I came up with this idea in the shower and had to repeat it in my head until I got out so I wouldn't lose it. Love, a leftie. <3

Summary: Y/N is sleepy, so Draco offers for her to sleep on him in class. When it comes time to do his classwork, Draco realizes Y/N is holding onto his dominant hand, and he must use his left hand instead.

Warnings/content: Mention of sex, extremely soft Draco, Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.41k words

"Yeah, I don't really mind the essay, you know? Moaning Myrtle's kinda hot. I've visited the moon before. I'm straight, and I'm screwing Draco." Daphne said, making everyone quiet down and look at Y/N.

Draco, getting the hint, nodded and pried a sleepy Y/N off of the breakfast table. "Love, wake up; you have to eat." He said in a low voice. Y/N shifted in her sleep, mumbling something incomprehensible. Theo smiled to himself, and Blaise laughed with Pansy. Daphne was not amused.

"Y/N! Wake up!" Daphne said, clapping loudly into Y/N's ear.

Y/N's head shot up, a bright red, looking alarmed. Then, when she saw Daphne smirking, she scowled. "You know, you can go one day without needing me to validate you for finding Myrtle attractive, Daphne."

Pansy stifled a snicker from beside Y/N, and Draco looked down at his girlfriend fondly. Y/N yawned, covering her mouth for about ten seconds before sipping some of her apple juice.

"What time did you sleep, darling?" Draco cooed, rubbing her thigh up and down tenderly.

Y/N took a deep breath and lazily spoke, trying her best to keep herself animated and in high spirits. "5 AM. I asked for an extension on the Potions assignment but procrastinated on it again. The deadline is today, so I had to have it ready yesterday." Y/N groaned, not looking forward to seeing Snape's unamused face for turning in her work late. In an average case, the professor wouldn't have given anyone an extension, no matter the case, but Y/N looked exhausted. She practically begged him to do the small favor for her.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows, sighing. "Love, why didn't you just ask me to do it?" Y/N shrugged lazily, letting herself drift off to sleep with her eyes open. "Go to sleep; we have fifteen minutes until we have to go to class." Draco said, lying Y/N's head down on his lap.

Y/N was out like a light in less than a minute. The entire breakfast, Draco endured teasing from his friends about him being "too whipped" and "turned soft." But he didn't mind and didn't even bother debating - he knew they were right.

"She looks so pretty when she sleeps." Pansy smiled, smoothing Y/N's hair down. Draco looked up from Y/N to Pansy and smiled earnestly. He had an angel for a girlfriend. Even running on two hours of sleep, Y/N looked stunning. She could win against the moon in a beauty pageant if she wanted to.

Eventually, Daphne started complaining about classes again, and Theo returned to his rambunctious and loud volume. Y/N woke to light kisses on her cheekbone, each of them belonging to her boyfriend.

"Come on, darling, we have to get to class." Draco simpered at the sight before him, standing up and holding his hand out for Y/N. She returned the smile and reached up to give him a sleepy kiss on the corner of his mouth. Y/N missed the middle but was too tired to put in the effort for another one.

When the group finally made it to class, Y/N felt like all her life force had just been sucked out. She wished for nothing more than to be in bed, Draco's or not, asleep. She didn't even care if her boyfriend cuddled her to sleep like he usually did, just as long as she was able to get at least a few minutes of shut-eye.

Y/N walked up to the front of the class, turning in her homework to a glowering Professor Snape. She mumbled a "good morning" and a "thank you" before her feet went on autopilot and led her back to her seat next to Draco.

During this class period, the students were supposed to read a chapter and answer five questions about it. It was light work compared to other days Y/N had to endure in Potions class.

Y/N looked up at the board, feebly squinting her eyes to read it from her spot at the back of the class. She brought a hand to her mouth and let out another rash yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'll make sure he doesn't catch you." Draco said, pressing a kiss to Y/N's forehead and rubbing her back. She protested, but there wasn't much else to do with Draco. He was just as headstrong as she was. With a gentle motion, his hand went up to the back of her neck, softly setting her head down into his laps again. As the class commenced, Draco began absentmindedly stroking Y/N's hair. Half-asleep but still conscious enough, Y/N stopped Draco's hand and pulled it to her chest, holding it as tight as her shaky hands would allow her to.

Draco went through the majority of class just fine. Occasionally, he received dirty looks from other girls in Slytherin, most of whom wanted him to themselves. He ignored them and glanced down at Y/N, reminding himself of who had his heart.

When it came time to answer the few questions about the reading, Draco was stuck. He set his textbook down and blankly stared at the clock in front of him, hoping he could stall long enough to say that he just lost track of time and didn't get to answer any of the questions Professor Snape wanted him to answer. Draco read the questions, each requiring about three sentences to respond to. He looked down at the Y/H/C head of hair that covered his laps and enveloped his hand - his writing hand.

Draco sighed, not wanting to risk waking up his girlfriend or getting a bad grade on his classwork. So, he did the best he could with his left hand, sloppily writing the answers as carefully as he could. The worst part of it all was that once he was done with his own work, he had to do his girlfriend's in better handwriting and a different order than his own so his professor wouldn't suspect anything.

Merlin, I've got to practice my ambidexterity more often. Draco thought, finding it painful to hold even a quill with his left hand.

Soon enough, Draco finished both Y/N's work and his own. He leaned back in his seat, letting out a slow whistle, resting until the end of the period. Snape's long, brooding, and dark cloak started approaching the Gryffindors first to collect their work, and Draco knew the Slytherins would be next.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty." Draco joked, eager to see Y/N's eyes open and to be able to feel his numb hand again.

Slowly, Y/N's eyes fluttered open, and she grinned, now feeling a little more energized. She glanced down at the desk, seeing two full papers, courtesy of Draco Lucius Malfoy. "Thank you, baby." She smiled, giving him a peck on the lips, mindful of Snape, whose back was turned to the pair. Her face contorted in half-confusion, half-amusement as she inspected the papers closer. The most hideous penmanship she'd ever seen, more like chicken scratch, covered the lines where Draco was supposed to answer. "Your handwriting-"

"You were holding my right hand." Draco said bashfully. "I didn't want to wake you."

"Let me see your hand." Y/N said flatly, inspecting the web of Draco's hand that ran from his thumb to his index finger. A loud gasp escaped her mouth, seeing it an extremely dark shade of red, callused from gripping the quill so hard. "Draco, you should've woken me up." Y/N said sadly.

"But you looked so peaceful. Like an angel." Draco almost sang, his pupils growing larger.

"Work?" Snape interrupted the couple, holding his free hand out to collect the assignments. Draco grabbed both his and Y/N's papers and gave them to Snape. "Hm." He hummed, narrowing his eyes at the two of them. Draco's eyes threatened to grow wide, but they didn't at the fear that they'd give him away. Y/N always told him she could tell when he was lying because of how large he opens his eyes. "Great work." He nodded at the man and woman, heading over to the desk in front of them.

Sighs of relief escaped both Y/N and Draco. "When we get home," Draco said, referring to Y/N's dorm. "we're taking a long nap."

"Only if you let me sleep in your laps again. They're comfortable."

"I cannot believe you just called me comfortable." Draco said, feigning offense.

"Okay, leftie." Y/N laughed, stringing along a sweet chuckle from her beautiful and incredibly thoughtful boyfriend.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

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wonwoonlight · 2 years

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Junhui – accidental confession + “Not our brightest idea”

900~ words – a thousand starlights event

“Wen Junhui I swear to God–”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he puts his arms up in defense, trying to get away from your violence. “I didn’t know the zombies were going to chase us!”

You’re not sure who to blame; yourself, for not asking Junhui where he’s taking you when he asked if you’re up for fun when it’s 8 in the evening–honestly, you thought perhaps he’s going to ask you to a bar something not a haunted house that’s been hyped as the scariest one in your town, but you’ll never know with Wen Junhui–or if you should blame Seungkwan for bailing last minute because he’s just remembered he has an assignment he hasn’t even started when its deadline is literally in twelve hours, thus emptying a spot in their party which prompts the invitation branching up to you.

It has to be a party of six, the staff of the haunted house has told them without explaining why. But Junhui, Soonyoung, Wonwoo, Jeonghan, and Jisoo have been excited to finally try the supposedly horror maze after booking a slot from two weeks ago.

Seungkwan wasn’t that ecstatic, quite obviously, but Jeonghan promised he would help with his accounting final assignment if he comes and that was the only thing that convinced the guy to put his sanity at stake. And now he’s bailing.

And you’re getting the end of it.

“I can’t even watch horror anime!” you whisper harshly as you clasp the material of his hoodie. “What makes you think it’s a good idea to invite me into a haunted house!”

“Everyone else was unavailable,” he whispers back, looking around to see if it’s clear for the both of you to go through. “And I didn’t expect you to be down for a sudden outing, to be honest.”

Well, how can you tell him you’ve only agreed because it’s him who asked? That you’ve imagined spending a night out with him? Well, you are with him now, having been split up into a group of twos by the staff before you’re all pushed into a different door. Wonwoo with Soonyoung, Jeonghan with Jisoo, and you with Junhui.

As if Junhui doesn’t make your heart beat fast enough already, you just have to be in a haunted house with him.

“I have a golden key with me but am not sure where I’m supposed to use it?” you hear Soonyoung’s voice from the walkie talkie. Not long after, Wonwoo answers and says that he might have the box for the key and that he should keep it until they find a way to get out of the current room and meet on the next one.

Why do you even have to decipher hints? Is it not enough that you’re being scared to death already? How is your head supposed to work with this much rush of adrenaline and the proximity of Wen Junhui next to you?

“You do realize you haven’t let go of me the moment we step into this room?”

“Shut up, you invited me and you’ve got to take responsibility,” you argue, though your cheeks are heating up. Perhaps you should be thankful it’s so dark here.

“And here I thought you simply enjoy being close to me,” he snickers playfully, nudging you a little.

On one side, you’re thankful you’re interrupted by yet another ‘ghost’ that you don’t have to answer him, on another, you’re pretty sure your heart is about to bounce out of your chest because Junhui is embracing you as you scream from the jumpscare.

At the corner of his eyes, Junhui notices on the table right next to the actor, and he would be able to quickly get his hand on it if you let go of him just for a few seconds. You’re just borderline shameless at this point, but, even if you step away from his embrace (with face heating up beyond you think possible), you’re still holding on to his hand and Junhui has to carefully reach up to the table because he notices there’s a pattern of the jumpscare.

He just has to get the right timing to get the key.

“When I say now, we’re going to run as fast as we can, okay?” he gives you a disclaimer, telling you about the pattern and that he has to be quick if you don’t want another actor chasing you.

Junhui holds his breath as he reaches for the key, about to give you the signal when the actor opens his eyes and meets his gaze.

“Run, run, run!” He screams as he pulls you with him, his other hand tightly gripping the key between his fingers.

He hears you curse behind him, swearing to everything up there that you’re going to make him pay for your hospital bill if you pass out from a heart attack.

“Sorry,” he grins, though he seems happier than you are about the whole situation. “Totally not our brightest idea because I’m sure my legs are going to bruise tomorrow from bumping into the countless boxes in the way.”

“Gosh, the things I do for you,” you mutter out loud, not realizing that the words are already out of your mouth. “You know I’d probably cut our friendship off right here if I don’t like you so much?”

Wide eyes staring into each other, you don’t even get to explain nor say anything else because Soonyoung’s cheery voice is already greeting you both from the other side of the room.

You can’t help the blush that makes its way to your face when he simply holds your hand tighter for the whole night.

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palbabor-writes · 3 years

Text

Practicum

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT/18+ only, unbalanced/unhealthy relationships, student/teacher sex, tw.dubcon, tw.sub/dom dynamics, brat taming, fingering, masturbation, a table is pretty roughed up in this, so pls hold a brief moment of silence for it

Words: 12,857

“So, you just want me to read from the book?”

“Yes.”

“And...answer questions?”

“That’s what I said,” Shigaraki smirks, already reaching toward his bookshelf, tugging the heavy Intro to Biology text out and shifting it into his large hands.

You bite at your lip again and pass your gaze from his amused expression to the bland cover of the textbook, debating your next move, trying to walk yourself through all the ups and downs. It’s too simple; too easy. It’s not like him. He’s got something else in mind, why else would he fucking look like that? It’s not a bad look. No, it’s a look that makes your stomach flip and head spin.

“Stop being so suspicious,” Shigaraki scolds, drawing your wandering attention back to him. “I don’t bite, that is, unless you want me to.”

Notes: the title was selected because it’s got the word cum in it. ahhh, the things that crack me up. anyhow.

this is part of the BNHA Degeneracy server’s 9 to 5 collaboration! i had a ton of fun participating in this and thank you guys for making this so freaking awesome! special shoutout & thanks to @albinoburrito & @kugutsuu for their beta edits! this was a departure from what i usually write about and i appreciate all of your notes and help!

Practicum prac·ti·cum /ˈpraktəkəm/ noun a practical section of a course of study

It’s your senior year, they said. Live a little, they advised. Stop and take a breather, you’re practically home free! Take some easier classes. Focus on what’s in front of you, it’ll be over before you know it! On and on and on.

Spring semester is almost here. You’ve applied for graduation, the cap and gown ordered, and you have a shiny class ring sitting on your pinky. It’s in the bag. Just breeze through four more classes and you’re out. Well, it would be an easy shot, if you hadn’t put off this one class.

It always popped up, so it’s not like you could plead ignorance. Your advisor warned you, each quarterly meeting, that you needed to get it out of the way. Take it seriously, he cautioned, clacking out his notes, typing down that you’d failed to heed his sage advice, again. If you wait too long, you’re not going to get the professor that you want.

That was the other problem. You’re a procrastination superstar. If there was some kinda award for putting off assignments, you’d have won it ten times over. You liked the heart pounding race to the deadline, the sleepy boasts that you’d tackled the project within hours of its due date.

It’s a stupid habit. Every semester you promise yourself that you’ll do better. You won’t wait, you’ll tackle things one assignment at a time and turn them before the hard cut off at 11:59 pm. Who the fuck did you think you were kidding? Certainly not your friends, or your advisor. He could read you like a book. Hell, he’d even sent warnings.

‘Don’t forget about the deadline for senior registration!’

‘You don’t want to be on a waitlist. You especially don’t want to take one of the harder professors. These are freshman level classes, they’re designed to flunk undergrads. Don’t forget (Y/N), chew them up and spit them out tactics are employed.’

But you had. You’d set an alarm on your phone, then neglected to give it a title, so you’d only chuckled and smacked the chirping into silence that morning, snoozing the all important deadline away.

Fuck.

Most of the classes for biology are wait-listed. No, scratch that, all the classes for Intro to Genetic Biology are wait-listed. You opt into the waitlist for all of them, just in case, and a week later your phone alerts you that one has an open seat. Actually, it has several open seats, too many open seats to be natural. However, you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so for now, you’re enrolled in BIO 1208: Principles of Cell and Organismal Physiology - For Non-Science majors.

Perfect.

Yeah, no. You’d looked up the professor, since the whole open seat thing was still giving you the heebie-jeebies, and your heart dropped. You’ve heard of him, most of the student body has. His classes are notoriously small. Not because the university limited them, or planned for smaller class sizes. No, his classes are tiny because he is infamous for failing students.

Most, when they realize they’re scheduled for his bio classes, frantically drop, taking the withdrawal and praying for better luck next semester. Others, brave souls who think they can come out unscathed, attempt to grit their teeth and push through. But, by midterms, they’re war torn and haggard, shaking their heads and praying for a ‘C’, at best. Fewer still, pass.

This pedagogy isn’t a sign of good teaching; quite the opposite, in fact. You don’t want your student body failing. Yet, year after year, Professor Tomura Shigaraki keeps teaching the same Intro to Bio class. It boggles the mind, but you’ve never had to worry about it. Well, until now.

When you’d received the notification that you’re enrolled in the B section and spied the name Shigaraki under the professor listing, you’d scarfed down your suddenly flavorless lunch and dashed up the steps to the student advising hall, praying there was some way you could wiggle your way out of this growing disaster.

“I’m pretty sure I told you to take it earlier and to take it in the fall when there are more freshman level classes available. I swear I said that to you. And, AND, I even sent you emails, several times if my sent inbox is to be believed, to NOT forget when senior registration ends.”

Your advisor is peeved. You don’t blame him. He’s right, this is your fault, but there’s gotta be some kinda loophole. Something, fuck, anything, that can pull you from this mess.

“I know, I know! I’m so sorry. You’re right. But, I mean, can’t I just hold off for another week? See if the waitlist clears?”

The man that you’ve known for four years, that’s seen you progress from freshman to senior, steeples his long fingers and purses his lips, likely debating on a tactful scolding, or a firm rebuttal. He takes a deep breath and you can’t help but sink into the soft cushioning of the chair, your nose wrinkled and brow furrowed, mentally preparing yourself for the worst.

“Do you know how many students we require to take BIO 1208?”

“No,” you gulp, nibbling on your lower lip nervously.

“Over 7,000. Do you want to hear the statistics that would need to shake out in your favor for you to miraculously avoid taking this specific class? Nothing is going to open for you, it is this class, or no class.”

You sigh, and your advisor nods, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. “Well then, I suggest you brush up on your study skills. Find a classmate that you can compare notes with, join a study group, go to the student union and ask for a tutor. I would hate to see you back here for the summer semester. You’re scheduled to walk the stage this spring and you’ve worked hard for this, so don’t fuck it up, okay?”

You’ve attended this university for four years, but the first day of term always gives you the jitters. It doesn’t matter that you know your way around, or that you know ten professors by name, and bump into several friends on the way to your next building, you’re always buried in your phone, checking and double checking the next class’ room number.

Despite all that caution, you’re lost.

In your defense, it’s your first time stepping foot in the Graduate & Research building and the whole concrete block is a fucking maze. There must be a basement because the numbers don’t match up with the floors and they seem to jumble further every time you round a corner. Like what the hell? How can this next room be GR 3.03.05 when this is clearly only the second floor and GR 2.03.11 was right down that other hallway?

Exasperated, you lean against the nearest wall and tug your phone out again. Shit. Class started ten minutes ago.

Part of you wants to call it a day, end the search here and try again on Wednesday. Maybe take a few extra minutes to scout out the building next time and have some idea of where you’re going before the start of class.

Ugh, why is this so stressful?

It’s the first day of classes. Surely Professor Shigaraki won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late; besides, if you’re lost, others must be too.

You tuck your phone back into your pocket and resume the hunt. Two hallway turns later, you find your mark.

Your hand pauses beside the heavy wood, and you take a steadying breath. Again, why are you so nervous? Just go in and take a seat, it’s easy, stop freaking out over nothing.

The door groans open, hinges protesting the sharp push, and you stumble into a darkened room. The low glow of the projector doesn’t help your blurry vision. Ah, shit, it’s one of those older rooms, so it’s built like a bad movie theater. Oh well, better get to a seat before he spots you.

Swiftly, you make your way toward the raised steps of the aisle and the second row of chairs, plopping into the first one you reach that’s empty. You’re too busy fiddling with the zipper of your backpack to notice that the speaker has stopped his rasping preamble, but as you pull your laptop out the ominous weight of that heavy silence hits you and you toss a hooded stare toward the front of the lecture hall.

Immediately, your eyes land on the professor’s and you feel a low shiver shake up your spine.

He’s watching you.

The gleam of the overhead projector makes his red eyes flash, and he openly scowls at your gaping expression, his lips curling into a dark sneer.

“Well, thank you for joining us, Miss…?”

He’s waiting for your response and you squeak out your last name, mindlessly rubbing your moistening palms against your thin skirt.

“Ah, Ms. (L/N). Now that you’ve graced the class with your belated presence, may I continue?”

“Uh,” you gasp out, your mouth dry, tongue sticking to your teeth, “I’m sorry. I got–”

“I didn’t ask for an explanation, or in your case, an excuse. Or are you now attempting to disrupt this class purposefully?”

“Wha– I-I’m–” your words stumble to a halt, voice failing under the intense glare that he’s giving you. “No,” you finish lamely, ducking your head, nails digging into your sweaty palms.

“Thank you. Do me a favor, stay after class.” His voice is gravel, threatening and low. You don’t like the edge in his tone. It makes your skin prickle and your knees knock. He sounds like the kind of guy that you don’t want to run into in a dark alleyway, or a classroom, for that matter. Even so, it’s not your fault, and despite your feelings of unease, you can’t tamp down your need to protest his unreasonableness.

“But, professor, I didn’t mean to–”

“If I need to repeat my insistence for silence, I’ll make things easier on both of us and fail you now.”

Stunned and fuming, you bite your tongue and lean back into your chair, crossing your arms and blinking back mounting tears of frustration. Great, just great. It’s the first fucking day of class and it looks like you’re already on his shit list. And for what? For being late on fucking syllabus day! What an ass.

You look over at him as you defiantly finish setting up your computer, hoping each pull of a zipper or screen reboot will grate under his stuck up skin. He’s not inordinately tall, or old. In fact, he looks like he might only be in early 30s. He has long white hair that’s pulled back into a low ponytail and, from what you can make out in the dim lighting, some kinda skin condition on his forehead. That, or he’s prematurely wrinkled, and let’s be honest, if he’s gone through life with that big of a stick up his ass, he deserves each and every pull on that mottled skin of his.

You linger in your seat when class is over, lips pulled into a thin line and legs crossed. Finally, when the last student has left the room, professor Shigaraki flips a switch beside his elevated podium, filling the lecture hall with a sharp, fluorescent light. He pauses by his raised computer system and clicks off the overhead projector, blanketing the massive room in an uncomfortable silence.

“Since you missed the part of class where I go over the syllabus, I’ll give you a brief rundown. Under no circumstances will I tolerate tardiness. If you do it once more I’ll mark you absent and three absences knock you down a full letter grade.”

Glumly, you cross your arms and peer up at him, finally able to get a good look at his face. Your first observation was correct. His skin is sharper around his forehead, but his wavy white hair does a pretty decent job of covering up the imperfections. He has two scars: one nicks across his right eye and the other splits down his rough lips, parting the skin and granting him an even more foreboding appearance than his already gruff demeanor does. He’s dressed in a dark pair of jeans and he’s wearing a low slung v neck shirt. It’s a brilliant red and it brings out that otherworldly glint of his red eyes. Shit, you think bitterly, while he’s not conventionally handsome, he’s not exactly hard on the eyes either.

You shake your head against these unproductive musings and curtly snap out a clipped, ok.

“What was that?” Shigaraki scoffs, tilting his head at your sullen figure. “Speak up.”

“I said,” you bristle, eyes narrowing and chin lifting, “Okay, I apologize for interrupting your lecture, it won’t happen again. But, in my defense, if I’m allowed to do that in this class, I’ve never been in this building before, and it’s not like–”

“You’re a senior, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Then you’ve had four years to figure out the layout of this university. The excuse of ‘being lost,’ isn’t an option for you. You know the buildings and you’re fully capable of turning up early to sort out the rooms.”

You let out a long sigh and look away, mumbling vague protests. This guy is ridiculous. You’re not a science major and it’s not your job to know the ins and outs of each building. How fucking stupid. Who does he think he–

“Speak up. I won’t ask you again.”

You bite your lip and look back at him but he’s moved in that distracted moment, silently stepping down from his raised platform and is now leaning over the first row of chairs, looming over you. You can’t help your sudden flinch as you sink further into your chair, away from him.

“If you’re gonna complain, Ms. (L/N), I’d much rather hear it. Don’t you think It’s rude for you to mutter under your breath about me? You don’t see me doing that to you.”

“Fine,” you blurt out, turning away from his insistent, and all too close, gaze. “I was saying that I’m not a science major. I get that I’m a senior, but you can’t seriously expect me to know every nook and cranny of this campus.”

“No, but I can ask for you to be a little more thoughtful. I put time and effort into my lessons and I won’t have you undermining them by bouncing in here with those legs and that flouncy little skirt.”

You’re about to counter his little haughty speech on politeness when you finally process that final comment he’d breathed out. Flabbergasted, you raise your head back to his, but he’s already moving away, snatching up his shoulder bag and waving you a curt goodbye as he presses open the squeaky door. “Next class is at 10 am sharp, so be on time Ms. (L/N).”

You’re still slumped in your seat when the door glides shut again, your eyes wide and jaw no doubt comically unhinged.

Wait. Did…did he really just say that?

Obviously, for the next class, you’re early. You’re so early that you’re the first one in the lecture hall. You select a seat toward the back and fiddle with your computer, checking your messages, adjusting your brightness, replying to old emails, anything to keep your head down and attention occupied.

The door opens and, despite your best efforts, your head flies up, expectant and tense, ready to meet those red eyes of his head on, to show him you’re here and he better… oh. It’s not him. It’s two chattering freshmen. One of them gives you a quick smile, but they both quickly take their seats, a few rows over, and continue their soft conversation, leaving you to fall back onto your earlier distraction tactics. You twiddle with your phone and shoot off a few texts, change your wallpaper, accidentally close an app you meant to leave open, and then the lecture hall door reopens.

He steps in slowly, completely ignoring you and the other scattered students, opting to sort out a few papers and set up his login on the school computer. The minutes tick by and you can’t seem to jerk your eyes away from him, suddenly fascinated by his languid movements. He looks more relaxed than he did on Monday, looser and fluid, completely in his element. True to his word, at ten am on the dot he begins class.

Professor Shigaraki has an interesting voice. It’s low, calculated, bordering on a rasp. It’s one of those tones that makes you want to lean forward and listen up, even though he’s only discussing cellular biology. Which isn’t exactly the sexiest topic for that shockingly dulcet timbre of his.

Wait. Sexy?

Your pen falters against your notebook, and your eyes drift up to his frame. He’s switched the lights off again and the shine of the overhead projector is the only illumination in the hall. His white hair gleams in the dim lighting and his long hands animatedly illustrate his points, elegant fingers opening and closing, gesticulating about the intricate nature of the human genome. You’re so focused on watching his movements that your elbow partner has to push the slip of paper onto your collapsible desktop. You blink at the sheet, your pen nearly clattering from your hand, and you twist to peer at the unfamiliar student beside you.

“It’s the attendance sheet and, um, I think you’re the last one,” they whisper, careful to lean away after they finish their explanation, not wanting to draw professor Shigaraki’s ire. You maneuver the paper under your pen and scribble down your name, biting your lip and silently berating yourself for your poor selection in seating. Great, now you’ll have to take the paper down to him after class. What if he talks with you again? Shit.

At 11:25, class ends. You collect your things and plod down the steps, the attendance sheet clutched between your fingers. He’s just snapping the projector light off when you reach his podium.

“I, uhh, have the attendance. You want me to just leave it here, or…”

“I’ll take it,” his hand is extended toward you and those red eyes are fixed on you now. It’s not the same disgruntled stare he’d given you on Monday. No, this look is a little more curious. Again, you’re taken aback by your reaction to him. He’s not even saying anything, just patiently waiting for you to deposit the sheet into his open palm, but there’s something about him that’s making your heart race.

Maybe it’s those eyes of his.

They are an unusual color and they have a strange intensity to them. Right as they narrow, the vermillion shining under the sharp lights; you press the paper to him and he pulls it from you, studying the names that are listed.

You want to say something. Maybe toss him a quick, friendly, goodbye. Or apologize for the other day? Ugh. What can you even say? ‘Gosh, so glad I was on time today! All that fascinating information about the genetic code! So glad to be here!’ No, that sounds stupid and a little patronizing. Besides, why do you want to talk with him at all? He’s an ass, remember?

“Did you need something?”

His question snaps you out of your stupor and you numbly shake your head at him, already lowering your gaze, but his exhaled chuckle makes you pause, your fingers curling around your backpack straps.

“I know I upset you the other day, but I appreciate you taking the effort to correct your mistake.”

“Oh,” you breathe, your eyes finding their way back to his. “Yeah, well, like you said, I’m a senior. Gotta take responsibility for myself someday.”

“Ah,” he smirks, that long scar on his lip quirking upward. “Seems like you’ve got some determination after all. You might be more interesting than I gave you credit for.”

“God,” you scoff, popping out a hip and crossing your arms at the bemused leer on his face. “Just come right out and say you think I’m a bad student, why don’t you?”

“Don’t worry,” he amends, tucking the attendance sheet into his shoulder bag and snapping the clasps closed. “There’s plenty of time for you to end up right back at square one with me.”

He’s already halfway out the door by the time you right yourself from the shock of his last comment and you follow him, a string of low curses falling from your lips.

The spring semester always flies by, and before you realize it, a full month has bled away. You’ve kept that same seat in Shigaraki’s class and at the end of each session you head down to his little platform, attendance sheet outstretched. Each day of class has a different ebb and flow. Sometimes he chats with you and it’s gotten easier to talk with him, both of your eyes holding and lingering, lips raised into calculating smiles. Sometimes it almost feels like he’s flirting with you. Other days he only spares you a curt nod, his white hair curtaining his expression from your curious gaze. You’re not bothered by these silences, not when you’ve got your secret weapon.

The days that you like best, the ones that you plan, sorting through your closet until you’ve found the perfect choice, are the days when you wear one of your skirts. You’d even gone on some skirt shopping sprees as of late. On those days he doesn’t just make some sort of fleeting eye contact with you, no, on those days he stares.

At first, you’d tested out your theory, staggering your outfits, careful to not screw up your suspicions with a hasty miscalculation, but as they say, the third time’s the charm. How did he expect you not to notice? He never bothers to hide those sharp ogles and recently you’ve made a point of dramatically gathering your things when you wear these cute little ensembles, bopping down the steps so his eyes have to work to follow the line of your hips and the long paths of your bare legs. One rainy afternoon you’d worn over the knee stockings, that came to an abrupt halt over the plush skin of your upper thigh, under your mini skirt and he’d practically leapt over the podium to grab the sheet from you, his eyes hooded and dark, almost wild.

“Test, on Friday,” he warns, eyes finally rising to meet your bemused expression. “Don’t stay out too late tonight.”

“What makes you say that?” you ask, brushing at a rogue fold in your skirt, luring him back to your legs.

He scoffs at you, that jagged scar arching into a smirk. “Humph. You’re dressed up. Most of the students just wear the sweats, or pjs, and call it a day.”

“I like to put a little effort in all that I do,” you retort, grinning up at his vermillion stare.

“Yes, so I’ve noticed. You certainly look the part…and you’re keeping up with the workload of this course.”

“Ahhh,” you crow, clapping your hands excitedly. “Are you saying I might get an ‘A’ in this class? Be the first time someone’s done that in a while, from what I’ve heard around campus.”

Shigaraki sneers and tuts out an inaudible reply, leaning a little closer to you, making you inadvertently fall back a step. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Awe,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m doing ok on all the quizzes and the classwork.”

“So far,” he taunts, his pearlescent hair falling over his broad shoulder.

“Tch. Don’t be like that. I’ve been studying.”

“Sometimes it takes more than that.”

“Oh?” you smile, raising your chin. “What else should I be doing, professor?”

“We’ll know that after Friday, won’t we?”

God.

You’d felt so confident when you’d turned in your test and that stupid, horrible, sexy little quirk of his lip scar that he sends you, when you’d handed him your papers, carries you on some strange, half aroused cloud all weekend. Maybe, just maybe, this class won’t be so bad after all.

The tests are handed back the following Friday, passed from row to row so everyone can fish out their papers and marked Scantrons. Yours, since you still occupy that final seat on the back row, is the last. Biting back a grin, you flip it over, so ready to see that A, that grade that you worked so fucking hard for, that… wait.

The gross flash of red across the top of your paper leaves you reeling, your breath catching against the back of your throat. It’s not a terrible grade, well, it wouldn’t be, but there are only three tests in this class, so it’s going to plummet you down to a B. One more fuck up will leave you with a C, or worse, an automatic failing grade.

No. No, no, no, no.

You can’t afford a bad grade, you honestly can’t even let yourself slip to a B. Your fucking cap and gown have just come in and with them that cord that you can wear around your neck at graduation. The one that marks you as honors cum laude. Fuck. You’re already pulling one B, in one of your other classes, because you’ve been focusing so much time and effort on this one. Another B will strip that cord from you, leaving you barren, with a less than ideal GPA.

God fucking damn it.

You glare up at Shigaraki, who’s busy taking the rest of the class through a review of genetic mutations, but you can’t hear him anymore, too incensed, too overwhelmed to even care about what he’s saying. The test crumples under your fingertips, the paper shaking in your hands, and you seethe, your teeth biting your lower lip to pieces.

It’s not fair. You’d paid attention. You’ve taken all the notes. Read all the chapters. Drilled and studied till your eyes had drooped, heavy with exhaustion. You’ve done it all right. Plus, he’d been so fucking flirty, so open with you. You’ve never chatted with a professor this way, never gone out of your way to wear clothes they like, that make them watch you, their eyes hungry pinpricks as you walk to them, mindful of the luscious sway of your hips.

No. Fuck him. Fuck this class.

Before your elbow classmate can leave, you ask for them to hand in the attendance sheet. You barely hear their response, too busy slamming your laptop into your backpack. As you storm past the podium, you can feel his eyes on you. The distant sensation of his gaze makes your flesh prickle, but you ignore your involuntary reaction and shove your way out the door.

“(Y/N), you can’t switch classes this late. It’s almost midterms. Besides, I don’t think anything has opened up and if you’re going to drop it, you’ve gotta get the signature of the professor,” your advisor tells you, blinking at your stony expression over his thick glasses. “I don’t get it. Why do you want to drop it? Your grades are alright and it’s just one test. You can always try–”

“Gimme the paperwork.”

Shigaraki’s office is on the top floor of the research building, tucked away down another winding and weaving hallway that once again requires your careful inspection to navigate. When you finally hit the right set of doors, you slowly make your way forward, counting the numbers up as you pass. His door is wide open, a yawning cavern that’s filled with the distant light of a lamp. You brush a hand down your skirt, smoothing away any wrinkles and steadying your nerves.

You’d tossed on the skirt this morning, before you’d gotten the grade, and you hadn’t thought to go home and change, too consumed by that simmering rage bubbling within you. And now, like this fucking class, this skirt felt like a mistake, something stupid and vapid that you wished you had time to change out of. He’d told you he liked your attire, liked that you put effort into your outfits. At the time, you’d been so thrilled and excited that he’d complimented you, but now you wish you were confronting him in baggy jeans or lazy sweats, anything that would turn that avid gaze of his away from you.

Lost in thought, you waver beside his open door, nibbling on your lips and tugging at your clothes. It’s now or never. No point in putting it off. What’s the worst that can happen? What can he do now? Or, a darker side of you whispers, what do you want him to do to you? What? That’s a stupid thought, you scold yourself, lifting a hand to the wall and rapping against the beige paint, announcing your presence.

When the sound fades away, swallowed up by the empty and darkened hallway, you poke your head around the corner, searching for him. His head is tilted quizzically, and he blinks twice when he spots you, that all too familiar smirk lifting his lips.

“Ah, Ms. (L/N), what can I do for you?”

His voice is softer than usual and your name sounds like honey, his tone resting on the syllables and consonants for a beat, almost as if he’s savoring their lift, their sound. You can’t help but swallow heavily at his appraisal. Suddenly this may be a terrible idea.

Ugh. Get a grip (Y/N).

“I-I need you to sign this withdrawal paperwork,” you finally reply, digging in your bag and tugging out the thin leaflet, holding it out to him. He’s silent after your demand, meditatively threading his fingers and peering up at you, his red eyes bright.

“Step inside and shut the door behind you,” he instructs, his gaze never falling from yours. Despite the simplicity of his request, you can’t help but bristle at his imperious tone. Why does he always have to sound like that? Like he’s seconds away from taking control of the situation, or of you? He’s always one stupid step ahead, and no doubt he’s going to try and talk you down. Or, he’ll sign it and say that he always knew you were a screw up, someone who only did things halfway, who could never match up to his lofty expectations. Humph, the sooner you’re outta here and out of his class, the better. So, you obey, closing the door and petulantly flopping into the unsteady chair that sits in front of his low desk.

He maintains that uneasy quiet, his red eyes whisking over your disgruntled face, waiting, watching. Unable to take this strange standoff, you push the university paperwork toward him, sliding it as close as you dare to his bent elbows. “I would like to withdraw from your class,” you repeat, lips setting into a thin line.

“Why?” he asks, cocking his head so his loose white hair falls a little further down his rough brow.

“Something came up.”

“Hmm, I can try to work with a new schedule, if it’s your job, or home life,” he counters, eyes narrowing as he sharpens his observations of your brittle expression.

“It’s not that,” you smart, crossing your arms. Great, he’s going to make this difficult.

“Then I suggest you tell me what’s on your mind,” Shigaraki replies, mirroring your movements and leaning back in his chair.

“I don’t think this class is working out for me.”

He exhales a soft laugh at your lie, and you watch that tiny mole at the edge of his chin lift in his quiet mirth. “This is a freshman level course and you’re a senior. You’re in my class because it’s likely the last pre-rec that you need to take before you graduate.”

“Um, yeah. But–”

“And now, you’re wanting to drop it because of one poor grade.”

You grind your teeth and fix him with a stark glower. “I–”

“There will be two other tests. If you read your syllabus, you’d know this.”

“I read the syllabus. Your tests are worth a stupid amount of points and it only takes one of them to tank my grade.”

“Frankly, you did better than most of the class. You only need to work on practical application. I said that the written portion would be a major component of the exam. I also provided you with a review and a rubric. So I’m not sure–”

“Your grade drops me to a ‘B’, and that ‘B’ pulls me from the honors list. And… well… I thought that…”

“Oh? What did you think?” he presses, his voice suddenly dropping to that lower octave it had drifted into when he said your last name.

“I thought I’d get a better grade,” you spit out, turning your head and biting at your lip again.

“Why?” he counters simply. His obtuseness is making your blood boil.

“What do you mean, why?” It takes all of your will to not slip a ‘jackass’ into that question.

“It’s not a hard thing to answer. I graded you fairly and according to my rubric. Why exactly do you feel you merit a different grade than the one you earned?”

You fall into a frustrated silence. You can hear your heart pounding against your ribs and you want to scream at him, to leap over his desk and shake him until his teeth fucking rattle. Your shoulders are rising and lowering disjointedly and his vermillion eyes are honed in on your face, shifting over your pinched expression with a distant interest. You can feel tears pricking at your eyes and you hastily rub a fist over them, brushing away any rogue drops of moisture.

“How can you ask me that? You think I didn’t notice you staring at my legs? Or that you always had something to say to me when I was wearing a skirt? What was I supposed to think, huh? I fucking thought shit like that was gonna help, ok? God, I’m so stupid. I can’t… fuck.”

Shigaraki arches forward when you finish, a deep sigh leaching through his parted lips. His teeth snap together when you look up at him, your eyes gaining back some of that earlier defiance, and he gives you a quick grin, clearly pleased by your shift in attitude and pushes your paper aside, fixing you with a dark look. “Here’s a thought, since you feel you’re so different, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you a chance to make up the score.”

“I don’t care about the score anymore. I wanna drop your class,” you snap, but it’s a halfhearted barb. Something has changed in his demeanor. He’s dropped the concerned professor act and is leaning so close you can hear his steady intakes of air. He’s only a few inches away; if you want, you could touch him.

“I doubt you want to attend a class in the summer. Besides, they won’t let you walk if you haven’t finished your freshman level courses. And you can’t tell me you don’t want to graduate, to earn that cord that lets you into the honor cum laude. So stop pouting and hear me out. I think you’ll like what I have in mind.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever like anything about you,” your voice is sharper than you mean it to be, but the challenge makes Shigaraki smile. As it crosses his cracked lips, it pulls that scar up and it makes those eyes of his glow. He looks like the cat that’s got the cream and you’re not sure how to respond, so you cross your legs and wait for him to make the next move.

“You sure about that? Well, I’ll have to change your tune then, won’t I? But that can wait, lemme tell you what my requirements are. I’ve got a copy of the textbook in here. I’ll have you review some of the major concepts, you’ll read the passages aloud so I’m sure you’re on the right track, you’ll hand the book back to me, and then I’ll verbally quiz you over the material. If you answer them correctly, I’ll bump you to an ‘A’ on your test.”

You have to actively work to keep your mouth closed. “So, you just want me to read from the book?”

“Yes.”

“And… answer questions?”

“That’s what I said,” Shigaraki smirks, already reaching toward his bookshelf, tugging the heavy Intro to Biology text out and shifting it into his large hands.

“Stop being so suspicious,” Shigaraki scolds, drawing your wandering attention back to him. “I don’t bite, that is, unless you want me to.”

Your eyes boggle and you have to clench your thighs tighter, your stomach churning, you feel light-headed and you can feel your core fluttering with your sudden arousal. “Wh-what did you just say?”

“Stop gaping at me like that, you’ll make me blush. Now come on.”

Your jaw snaps closed and you shake your head, trying to clear your mind from your whirling emotions. He takes this reaction as a surrender and stands, stepping toward a marred table that rests a little ways away from his desk. He licks his thumb pad and flips through a few pages before finally settling on an appealing section. Once he places it on the table, he twists back to you and crooks a finger your way. “Come here,” he orders, his voice deep and languid. Obediently, you rise on unsteady feet, hands tugging at the length of your skirt, careful to keep it pressed down as you walk toward him.

He makes space for you to stand in front of the book and shifts back, one hand resting on the table, propping him close to your bent figure. You look up at him, but he only nods his head toward the table, a wicked smile curling the corners of his lips. Blink a few times but finally, the words clear and you can see the block of text that’s in front of you. It’s passages on DNA encodes and RNA proteins, hefty stuff, things that you had to make flash cards for. This isn’t going to be easy. If anything, he’s picked some of the harder concepts, the ones that take steady knowledge in the foundations. Flustered, you look back to him, but he’s moved. He’s leaning against the wide window beside the table, a dark mark against the glass.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, a laugh bubbling in his tone.

“There’s no way…” you stammer, shaking your head at him.

“Want me to throw a curve in?”

“I should ask what kinda curve, but knowing you, it’s likely gonna be something terrible.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he rumbles, stepping away from the window and leaning close to your stiff form. “It just takes an open mind and some enthusiasm on your part.”

“Enthusiasm?” you question, trying your best to withstand his closeness. You can feel the heat radiating off of his broad shoulder and if you tilt a little nearer, you could graze against him, or feel his breath on your skin.

“You’re right,” he amends, his forearm contacting your side. You startle at the touch, a gasp falling from your lips, but you don’t pull away and you can’t stop staring up at him, your eyes wide. “Obedience is a better word. From here on out, whatever I tell you to do, I expect you to obey it, although it’s not exactly, ah, school approved.”

“You want me to suck you off or something?” you sneer, hoping to stumble him off his guard, even if it’s only for an instant. Too bad he’s always one step ahead.

“Don’t be vulgar. Think outside of the box, (Y/N). Do you think I’m going to go for something so short sighted when I could have you bending to my will? Obeying every little demand that I make? I’d much rather see if that skin of yours tastes as good as it looks, then simply have you on your knees. No, I want you to fucking scream for me while I stuff you full of my cock. But first, you need to put in some work. You should know that by now.”

Oxygen is suddenly very hard to come by and you can feel your mind hazing over as you stammer up at him, your mind flitting from word to word disjointedly. Shigaraki grants you a wolfish grin, and he dips his lips beside your ear, whispering over those tiny hairs that rest against your tender skin. “I’ll make this part easy. Nod and I’ll give you the first set of instructions.”

What did he say? Nod? What happens when you nod? Fuck, why are you letting him do this? Is your grade really worth it? Are you that desperate that… that…

Shigaraki is whispering other promises over you as you war with yourself, speaking his words gently, slowly, his breath hot as it fans over your neck. It’s like you’ve fallen under some kinda spell and before you realize it, your traitorous head is bobbing up and down, letting him know you want him to keep going.

“Perfect,” he sighs, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear, jerking a shiver from you. “Now, lean forward and put your hands against the table.”

You do as he says, but he’s not satisfied with your positioning, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and yanking you forward, jutting your ass out and pressing your chest down, maneuvering you until your nose is right above the pages of the textbook. “There we go,” he rasps, pulling away so he can admire your splayed form. “Hmm, your legs are too close together. Spread them.” Knees trembling, you obey, gasping when he runs a palm against the curve of your thighs.

“You’ve got such nice legs (Y/N), so let’s put them on display, shall we?” His fingers search against the top of your skirt and they still when he reaches his prize: the zipper. When he pulls it down, you let out a sharp squeak of protestation but he silences you with a swift pinch to your side.

“Now, now, don’t be like that. You nodded, remember? Besides, you could have left when I told you I’d give you a curve but you couldn’t help yourself could you? You want me to keep going and to do that, I need you to take this skirt off. No, don’t move. I’ll get rid of it for you. Why don’t you focus on the task at hand, hmm? Aren’t you supposed to be reading for me?”

You arch away from his fingers and he chuckles at your impudence, one large hand hooking under your chin and pulling you toward his face. His red eyes blaze as they find yours, the dark pupils threatening to swallow up that deep vermillion. “Let’s start with the second paragraph. If you do well, I might grant you a reprieve.”

Jerking your face from his grip, you twist back to the text, trying, and failing, to ignore his inquisitive fingers, unable to resist sighing as he works one up your inner thigh. He pauses when no words fall from your lips and you grumble out a few low curses before acquiescing to his silent demand.

“The flow of genetic information in cells from DNA to mRNA to protein is described by the Central Dogma, which states that genes specify the sequence of mRNAs, which specify the sequence of proteins. The decoding of one molecule… the… the… molecule… by spec-specific…”

He’s slipped your skirt down over the swell of your ass, but he’s taking his time, flexing out the front of the material and dipping his fingers over the bump of your lower stomach, kneading into the delicate flesh that’s stretched out for him. You can’t help the twitch of your spine and you involuntarily wiggle, palms slipping forward, dragging you further along the tabletop. Shigaraki chuckles above you, running his rough lips over the back of your neck.

“You’re so sensitive. I’ve barely touched you.”

He circles his hands back to your skirt and edges it along, lowering it sharply on one side and then giving the same treatment to the other. You’re doing your best to keep up with your stammering readings, but it’s difficult when he keeps sighing and running his long nails across your newly bared skin. Finally, he works the skirt down and it thumps against your bare ankles; the fabric tickling your skin.

Meanwhile, his other fingers skitter against the elastic band of your rapidly dampening panties. Once he hooks the lace under his hand, he yanks them along your legs, trailing them sinfully slowly, ensuring that they glide down the billow of your thighs. His teeth nip at your ear when you stumble to a halt in your recitation and your hands tense over the grains of wood beneath them, your nails pinching into your palms. “If you stop, I stop,” he warns, his head bumping against yours, his sharp nose pressing against your pulse.

“You’re not exactly making this easy,” you grumble, doing your best to ignore his renewed pets and strokes.

“Stop complaining,” he smirks, leaning away from your head to peer at your newly exposed flesh. “You better pay attention to what you’re reading or you’re not going to pass the questions I’ll be asking you.”

“Yeah, yeah, ow!” you squawk, whipping your head around to glare up at him. He fucking pinched you again! This time, he’d slipped his hand between your spread legs and tweaked your inner thigh, painfully.

“Read,” he repeats, running those guilty fingers upward, lingering beside the heat of your cunt, careful to not get too close. When you start on the next sentence, one of his hands tugs up the fabric of your shirt, snaking upward until he’s thumbing against the wire of your bra. Once again, you falter to a halt and exhale a wavering breath.

Goddamn it. This review is no review. You’ll be lucky if you can even recall what a cell is if he keeps this up. You hear his ominous intake of air and quickly resume your recitation, mumbling something about RNA and mRNA differences.

Wait. Didn’t you just…

“Looks like you’re having trouble listening to me. I told you to read aloud, not to repeat the same passages over and over.”

“Hey, at least I’ll have a firm grasp on those. You should ask me something about that s-section… ah–”

The hand that was resting under the cup of your bra has made its way underneath the lightly padded material, and his thumb and index fingers have trapped your peaked nipple between them. As soon as your snarky comment left your mouth, he’d twisted the bud, squeezing it until it throbbed.

“Pay attention,” he commands, shoving your bra upward, freeing the globes of your breasts and cupping both of his broad hands under them. Your abused nipple stings and the mixture of sharp pain and jarring arousal goes right through you, stoking that coil that pulsed within your core, and sending a tacky flush of your essence down your spread thighs.

The next few words are a struggle. The text keeps blurring and your breaths are coming in fast and heavy. Shigaraki is still feeling you up, keeping his lips close to your ears, rasping sharp commands to you and dealing out lightning fast rounds of pinches and squeezes each time you falter.

“I–I can’t… I don’t even know what I’m reading anymore,” you bemoan, your hips pressing against the edge of the table, legs trembling as you attempt to keep them apart. He’s deliberately ignoring your throbbing clit and a desperate edge is creeping into your voice.

“Are you always this whiny? Fine. I’ll give you a moment to read without any distractions.”

Thank God.

True to his word, he slips away from your back and you’re left shivering against his sudden absence. Despite your quaking, you’re determined to make the most of this chance and you quickly read out the paragraphs that are on the second page. As you ramble down to the last bit of text, you realize you can’t hear him anymore and when you finish the last sentence; you start to really wonder where he’s drifted off to. A tense silence follows your completion of the material and you arch up on the tips of your toes, jutting your ass out and stretching the stiffened muscles of your lower back.

“Didn’t say you could stop reading, and judging from all of your complaints, I don’t think you got some of those earlier concepts, so I’d suggest doing a quick review,” he taunts, the sudden rasp of his voice startling a low gasp from your lips.

He’s close; somewhere behind you and to the left from the sound of it. You try to twist around, your chest lifting from the table, and when he notices, his hands return, creating a rough pressure against your neck as he forces your body back down. His weight plasters you to the surface, scraping your partially exposed stomach and tender breasts over the nicked wood. Shigaraki is merciless in his swift correction, his breath puffing out angrily behind you. “Didn’t say you could move, either.”

Stunned, you freeze. Your arms are arched awkwardly, but he keeps his weight against you, flattening your breasts and forcing your back to arch into an awkward bend. Fuck, you think, how are you supposed to stay like this? Your legs are already aching and if he shifts away again, he’s likely going to expect you to maintain this absurd pose.

“Yes,” he groans, his voice catching against the word, “Good girl. Now, stay just like that.”

Damn it.

“Go on, read the first part again,” he instructs.

“The entire genetic content of a cell is known as its genome and the study of genomes is gen-genomics. In eukaryotic cells, but… but not in p-prokaryotes, DNA forms a complex with histone proteins… with histone proteins… sub-substance… of…”

His teeth have latched onto your neck, and he’s sucking bruises into your tender skin. He’s still pinning you to the table, but his hands are widening their explorations. He’s started dragging a fingernail across the puffy folds of your cunt, teasing against the dripping and swollen flesh, chuckling when you buck against his hold.

“You always seem to lose it when you get to cellular modulations.”

“I–I–It’s not… I can’t help that you keep…” you whimper, your fingers curling under your palms, head shaking back and forth. You can’t think. He’s not being fucking fair, and you can’t even string your goddamn words together. Shit. “Y-you’re not being fair,” you accuse, falling on the only thing that keeps running through your mind, your splayed feet shifting uncomfortably under you.

“Not fair? Not once did I say fairness would come into this arrangement,” he lifts himself off of your back and leans beside you, one arm planted beside your crooked elbow. His fingers trace over the curve of your ass, cupping at the thickest part of you and squeezing.

“But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get a little satisfaction out of this arrangement. I bet you look good when you cum. And you’ve been working so hard to get my attention these last few months. So careful to do what I tell you. Looking at me with those big eyes of yours, all wide eyed every time I catch you looking at me. And don’t even get me started on your lips. You’re lucky I didn’t fucking bend you over after class, especially when you started wearing all of those cute little skirts for me. Ahhh, don’t moan like that, I won’t be able to help myself if you do. Let’s see how you’re doing, shall we?”

Without warning, he slips his longest digit into your cunt, groaning loudly when he’s sucked into your welcoming heat. Your pussy, hungry for any kind of scrap, ripples around his intrusion, clamping and pulling, desperate for more.

“Fuck,” he groans, his weight falling against your shoulder. “You’re soaking.” His elegant digit pushes deeper and you roll your hips under him, urging him closer, sighing when he sinks to the last knuckle. As he pulls his finger back, he adds another, swiftly v-ing the two before curving them together as they slip back out, dragging a steady line of pleasure from your quivering cunt. Shigaraki whispers another round of awed praise against your ear, his voice dark and breathless.

A third digit is added on another trip out, and it creates a ragged sensation within you. It’s close to what you like, but he’s stretching you too far and it’s starting to hurt. He either needs to speed up, or give you a little more pressure. If you can hump your clit against the edge of the table, maybe it’ll give you the friction that you need. When you mindlessly buck your hips, your thighs threatening to lose that spread, he stops, holding his fingers inside you, laughing as you agitatedly try to shift him back into his earlier rhythm.

“So eager. I’d say you’re ready for my questions.”

“W-what?” you gasp, wholly focused on making him restart the push and pull of his fingers inside you.

“I’ll start you off with something easy. What’s the cell membrane?”

“W-what? The cell… ah–”

“Answer me. Now,” he grunts, leaning forward, re-steadying you as his fingers pull outward, dragging against your sensitive folds and schlicking through your arousal lewdly, loudly. You moan and your eyes roll back, completely ignoring his demand as you fall into the haze of pleasure that comes after his movements.

His free hand travels up your neck and he tangles his fingers into the tendrils of your hair, yanking and jerking at the strands, demanding your attention.

“I said, answer me.”

“Shigaraki–I–fuck. I can’t even… ugh… think right now!”

“Do you want the grade, or not?” he questions, his voice tense. “Answer correctly and I’ll give you what you want.”

“I–I don’t think I can,” you whine, pressing your hips back as he thrusts his fingers forward again, curving them upward, searching for the spongy pad of nerves that rest against the front of your pelvis.

“Oh? What happened to wanting that A? What about your graduation? You gonna let me fuck up your entire college career? I can do it, you know. I’ve done it to so many simpering freshmen. I fail kids left and right and you’re no different, (Y/N).

The university lets me ahh–there it is! God, you’re so fucking wet.

Where was I? The university can’t say no to me; they let me do what I want. I bring in too much money, too many tempting grants, and that’s all they really care about. So what’s it gonna be? Let me see that you can answer this basic crap and I’ll pass you. Or would you like for me to tie you down and force it outta you another way?”

He’s picked up the pace of his fingers as he rambles over you and a swift press against that newly discovered spot inside you has you falling to pieces in his hands, popping up onto your tiptoes and rutting yourself against the surface of the table. “O-ok, God, ok! Just–fucking repeat the goddamn question,” you pant, head slumping forward, forcing his fingers to tighten against your hair to hold you upright.

“What is the cell membrane?”

You wince your eyes closed, trying to rack your brain to focus on something other than the heavy pressure of the three fingers that are teasing their way across your dribbling pussy. He’s moving his presses with a lackadaisical, inconsistent rhythm now and it’s hard to fucking think. You can’t tell if his next thrust will be hard, or soft, or so rough that it’s bordering on that bittersweet line of pain.

You shake your head, doing your best to ignore the mounting pressure that he’s building inside you and the ache of your neck and legs. Finally, after another sharp tap against that secret bunch of nerves at the front of your cunt, you latch onto a vague remembrance.

“It… it’s a double layer of–of phospholipids that make a boundary between the cell and t-the surrounding… ugh… it controls the passage of materials.”

“Very good. Elaborate on the cellular wall.”

He’s unrelenting in his domineering treatment, twisting and frigging his fingers each time your breath hitches, and your arousal is leaking down your legs, making your skin stick and pull. It’s too much, you can’t! How can he even ask this? Words are falling from your lips incoherently, and all too soon you’re gasping out his name rather than reciting the answer.

“Cellular–oh, fuck, Shi–Shigaraki–Please, keep–don’t stop! S-Shigaraki, God that… feels… ah–keep going!”

He ignores your request and pulls his fingers away, robbing you of that sweet pressure that he’s so carefully mounted within you.

“I’ll count that one as incorrect. Your ‘A’ is swiftly becoming an ‘A’ minus, (Y/N)” he snarls, his teeth gritted, hands falling to the swell of your hips, wet fingers digging into your soft skin.

“What? No! You didn’t give me enough… e-enough time! How can–can you expect me to answer that qui-quickly!”

“Let’s try another.”

It hurts. That ache that he’s drawn out of you is starting to sting and throb and he’s being such a dick about it! You twist and grind under him, and he traps your disobedient hips against the rough siding of the table.

“I don’t–” you protest weakly, your legs trembling and chest heaving under his weight.

“Do you want this? Wouldn’t you like to pass this class? To graduate with honors?” he growls, leaning closer, his hands braced against you, his fingers no doubt leaving bruises on the supple crest of your hips.

“You’re such an ass! Yes! Fuck, please! I–I want it so fucking bad!” you cry out, your voice drifting into a sob as you croak out the last plea.

“Then answer another question. What’s diffusion?”

“D-diffu-diffusion is the process by which molecules move from an a-area of… of… fuck- of high concentration, to low concentration. Shigaraki!”

“I should count that as another miss, but you got the major concept correct.” He removes his fingers from your waist and yanks your ass toward him, keeping your overeager hips away from the fleeting relief of the sturdy table. “Pop your legs together,” he commands, one hand wrapping around your arched throat, squeezing until you obey. His other hand drops to that thatch of curls that rest between your quivering thighs and he gathers up your gossamer strands, rubbing against your clit for one hazy instant, sending a flash of spots across your vision.

“Mmm, now that’s a pretty sight. Good girl, don’t move,” he reminds you and you want to scream at him. Right before you can spit some frustrated vitriol out, he’s releasing your neck, his hands dropping from your skin and letting you fall back to the uneven surface below. Just before your chin contacts the wood, his hand is back in your hair, tugging you upward, holding you a few inches above the table. The sharp pain makes your scalp tingle and you unconsciously rut against the tempting heat that’s now plastered to your ass. He’s hard. You can feel the stiff bulge of his cock straining against the front of his dark jeans, pressing into the cleft of your posterior.

“T-that’ can’t be comfortable,” you pant, twisting your head so you can look up at him from the curve of your shoulder.

“Oh? You worried about my cock?” he asks, his red eyes flashing down at you challengingly. You don’t bother giving him a verbal response, opting instead to grind your ass up, catching against the jut of his length, earning yourself a low groan. His lips curl when you repeat the motion and you realize you love watching that smug face of his drift into a look of tense pleasure. It makes his scar on his lip flush and those red eyes of his fall to a lazy half mast. He spies your arched brow and pleased grin and pushes himself off of you, leaving you alone and open on the table.

“Keep pushing your luck. I’m more than happy to drop you back to a B.”

“What?” you scoff, teeth clinking together as you clench your jaw. “I didn’t move!”

“No, but you’re trying to take control of this and we can’t have that can we?” Shigaraki sneers. “Now, how shall I punish you?”

“P-punish me?” you stammer, a chill racing down your spine.

“Ah, I know. This’ll really piss you off,” he twists from your strained gaze and walks back toward his desk. What? What the fuck does he mean? You can’t see him from this angle, not with the way your legs are stretched and back is lowered, but it doesn’t stop you from trying, your chin lifting upwards as you do your best to keep him in focus.

Ugh. It’s no use. He’s slipped past your field of vision.

Hearing is likely your best bet, so you shift your forehead back to the table and listen, straining your ears to pick up any morsel. Something opens and closes and you catch the sound of the wheels of his chair as they shift, squeaking across the floor, and the groaning of the springs when his weight is applied to the cheap leather.

Okay, so he’s in his chair. Is he just gonna look at you? That’s not… wait…

There’s a faint clicking sound.

It’s both familiar and unfamiliar to your ears, but once the teeth slide over the last pull, you realize. It’s a zipper.

Oh fuck. Is he going to jerk himself off? With a gasp, your head whips back around. He’s still positioned himself away from you, and you can only just make out the sounds that are accompanying the undoubted rise and fall of his fist. All you can see is a tiny sliver of his body, but you catch sight of the coiling muscles on his neck and you notice that his head is dipped forward, pearl white hair settling across the cut of his collarbone. The one red eye that meets yours is blazing and hungry, it makes every hair on the back of your neck stand up.

God, he’s staring at you, watching you, getting himself off as you’re half naked and bent over a desk in his office, fully subjugating yourself to his whims and fancies for the sake of your grade.

Damn it, (Y/N). This should not be a fucking turn on. You should be disgusted, but the flush of slick that drips down your thigh says otherwise.

He lets out a choked moan, picking up the pace of his hand, letting you hear the click and slip of his palm as it strokes up and down his cock. A shiver echoes up your spine and your hips seem to have a mind of their own, grinding your clenched thighs over the dip of the table, easing the clenching pulsations that your cunt is shuddering through you.

“Look at you, so desperate for my touch that you’re humping the fucking table. Such a dirty girl, and so disobedient. You’ve only answered a few of my questions correctly and yet your slutty little mouth and body keep pushing at me. Making me put you in your place. Let me ask you something, why should I go out of my way to fix your grade when you can’t even prove to me you understand the simplest concepts?

Ah, here’s a thought. What if I told you I’ll wave the other requirements; no more readings, no more quizzes, but I won’t let you cum? What if I just get myself off? You’re putting on a such a good show for me! Why should I bother with seeing that you’re satisfied when that table seems to do the job for you? Sound good? Or would you like for me to come back over there and make you cum?”

“I–I don’t… I don’t want…” You can’t get the words out, your tongue feels leaden between your lips and you can’t think of anything but the steady itch that’s spreading from your clit.

“Speak up,” Shigaraki demands, slowing his jerking fingers. The chair he’s sitting in groans as he leans forward, and his eyes wide as they take in the delicious sight that’s propped before him. “You don’t want to cum? Is that it? You’d like for me to get myself off and leave you there?”

“No!” you cry out, your fingers digging into the scuffed wood of the table. “I-I want you to make me cum.”

There’s a sharp clatter and you jump at the abrupt noise. It must be the chair you think, your heart pounding against your chest, waiting for Shigaraki’s next move. He only lets a few seconds drift by before he presses himself back to you. He leans his broad chest over your back, the front of his legs pushing against the back of yours. His exposed length is wedged firmly against the cleft of your ass and its tempting hardness makes you squirm under him, but he’s propelling you forward, pinning you against the rough wood, and you can only flail uselessly under his control. His lips skim over your neck and he bites into your skin, sucking and licking bruises as he inches closer to your pulse.

You say his name pitifully, wantonly, and he lets out a shaky gasp. Something about your tone has shifted something within him and you can feel his cock swelling, dripping a rope of wet pre-cum down your shaking leg.

He leans away, removing his sticky hardness from your ass. “Seems your priorities have shifted. You’re a little preoccupied right now, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice gravel scraping against your overwhelmed senses. You let out a weak moan and he snaps into action, his fingers pushing under your flattened stomach and tugging against the fabric that he finds. He yanks you upward, pulling your shirt up as he goes. His palms dip under your half lifted bra, and he cups at your breasts, massaging the rounded bulbs and plucking at your peaked nipples. Your head lolls back, and he sucks at your earlobe again, his breath warm and rasping as it passes by.

“Hold still,” he commands.

It’s not an easy position, this stretched upward arch that he’s forced you into, but it’s worth it when you feel his cock pushing between your tensed legs. He doesn’t thrust into you, opting to run his weeping tip against your slippery folds, pressing until his bulbous head is twitching against your pulsing clit.

Goddamn it, you think as he stills, his lips smacking open-mouthed kisses over your shoulder, it’s not enough. You wiggle your hips back and forth and he abruptly exerts a firm pressure against your windpipe, leaving you sputtering and gasping. “What’s wrong? Not happy with this? Do you think you deserve something more? Do you think you’ve earned that?” He shoves you back against the surface of the table, his broad chest following the plane of your back, trapping you under his heavy form.

You’d replied, you know you must have, but you can’t hear yourself anymore, your attention attuned to the warm length that’s pressed against your shuddering folds. You’d likely thrown in a please for good measure because Shigaraki rewards you with a quick peck to your shivering neck and his thumb, swirling it around your clit, creating a cresting ache that leaves you mumbling incoherently, a thin line of drool slipping from your parted lips. As he keeps that faint osculation up, your fingernails scrape over the wood of the table, your feet lifting you onto your toes, curving your back, and shoving your leaking pussy into his open palm.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Shigaraki says, a breathy desperation lingering around the edges of his rasping voice. “But it’s just not enough, right?”

You nod, licking up some of the excess saliva that’s built under your heavy tongue and crane your head back at him. His eyes are the first thing you see. They’re wild, ravenous and glinting with a roughness that makes you whisper out a soft whine. Fuck. It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re not supposed to want him this badly. Goddamn it. Now that he’s caught your gaze, he won’t let you look away, and he presses himself closer, his cock twitching and warm, the tip rubbing back and forth, keeping time with his circling thumb.

“You gonna fuck me, or not?” you finally ask, unsticking your lips and smirking up at his hardened face.

“Tch. Don’t rush me,” he grumbles, removing his hand and teasing cock from your cunt, watching as your body convulses under him, your pussy quivering against the excess stimulation that he’s wrought over you. Your thighs burn, aching to break free from his control, to rub against that throb, that tingling that keeps shuddering outward.

“One more question,” he tells you, lifting his dripping thumb to his lips and sucking off the traces of your arousal. The sight of him licking his pink tongue over his gleaming knuckles almost makes you lose your balance, your arms shaking precariously under you.

“A-another? Come on,” you pout, your eyes following the curve of his wicked lips, watching as his scar quirks upward, amused by your useless defiance.

“Make you a deal, answer it correctly and I’ll give you my cock. Sound fair?”

“Ugh, whatever, just hurry up,” you snap, so impatient and turned on that you can hardly think.

The tip of his cock presses against your sopping entrance, pushing forward just enough to part your dripping folds but stopping before he clears that first, tight ring of flesh. The promise of his dribbling tip makes you lose any semblance of self-control. You thrash under him, but he traps your disobedient hips against the rough siding of the table.

“No! Don’t stop! Come on Sh-Shigaraki–Don’t be such a fucking–ah–”

“Do you want this? Do you want my cock?” he growls, leaning over you, his fingers squeezing down, no doubt leaving bruises in the supple crest of your hips.

“Yes! Fuck, please! I–I want it so fucking bad!” you cry out, your voice drifting into a sob as you croak out the last plea.

“Then you better answer. What are cytosines?”

“They… they’re n-nitrogenous base… fuck… base that pair… that pair with guanine during D-DNA replication… I–please, please, Shigaraki! Fuck me! I want your cock! Fuck me, fuck me!”

Thankfully, he either takes pity on you, or can’t control himself anymore, his hips surging forward, gliding his thick length into your cunt and snarling at the mind numbing heat that waits for him. He keeps driving upward until he bottoms out, sharp hipbones grinding against the plushness of your ass.

He’s not gentle with you, no he’s animalistic and raw, his thrusts papping into you with a terrifying strength. You would have liked something slower, something that lets you enjoy each imperfection and dip that raced along his cock, but this, oh, this is an exception because this is perfect. It’s not what you want, but it is what you need.

The heavy fullness that he’s stuffing you with leaves you breathless, but you somehow manage to gasp out a string of nonsensical praises each time he drives back into you, overwrought by his roughness.

This coupling isn’t kind, isn’t right, and is not healthy, for either of you. No, not with the way he’s using your shivering body, distracted with slacking that euphoric thrum that’s making his cock pulse and swell inside you.

But fuck it feels good and you can’t help but tremble with delight. These intoxicating thrusts of his ram him up against something that’s buried deep inside you, and each time he hits it another star of bright pleasure races through you. The familiar coiling of release is steadily mounting with each rapid fire rut he gives you and if he could just, ah, there’s something that’s… no, fuck, it’s, it’s not going to work. It feels good, but it’s missing one vital ingredient, one thing that he’s neglected to pay attention to, to notice.

Your clit needs to be tweaked and rolled, and right now it’s pulsing away against the table, beating a sad tattoo into the grainy wood. Oh well, you think, head fuzzy, lost in the euphoria of his powerful cants, grinding your ass into his hips as he digs into another teeth chattering thrust. He’ll likely finish soon, and you’ll probably need to get yourself off later. It’s not something new, and it’s not like he’s going to care enough to focus on that, on you. This whole thing has been about control, so there’s likely no room for your own pleasure.

“What’s wrong,” he gasps out, his fingers lifting from your hips to curl beside your turned head.

“What? N-nothing–I–” you pant, eyes rolling back as he hits that spongy patch of nerves again.

“Tch. Hold on,” he interrupts, his voice rasping and breathy. He pulls himself out of you with a grunt and yanks you upward, hauling you onto the tabletop and flipping you on your back, bending your stiffened legs and bracing your knees against his lean forearms.

He holds you apart, spreading you open with his powerful hands. You can see him properly now, and the sight makes your breath catch against the back of your throat. Fuck, he looks good.

His long white hair is draped across his bare shoulders and his eyes are blazing pits of hunger, devouring the sight of you with those red irises. His jaw is clenched, and he glares down at you from his imperious height, his nostrils flaring as he drags in a quick intake of air. To your shock, he gives you a little time to acclimate to this new position, opting to languidly step forward, letting his slippery cock head press and tease at the dip of your opening. But right when you think he’ll move again, he stops, his eyes roving over the lines of your face.

His sudden stillness makes you peer quizzically up at him and you scoot closer, your feet lifting from the table. The movement snaps him out of his stupor and he grabs your ankles, roughly pinning you back down.

“Keep still,” he snarls through clenched teeth, that scar of his lifting.

You nod mutely and he rewards your unquestioning obedience with another powerful thrust, sinking his swollen cock back into your waiting cunt. He lets out a sharp groan and grabs at your hips, jerking you forward, already drifting back into that all-consuming rhythm he’d started earlier. His ruts are a little slower from this angle but, in no time at all, that familiar ache pools in your core, stoking and building at an alarming rate. The driving force of his hips soon has you blinking back spots and distant stars, and this time he adds the all important pressure of his thumb, circling the finger pad over your clit and dragging a broken moan from your quivering lips.

“So that’s what you needed. You close?” he grits out, his lips set in a curled scowl. He’s lost some of that early control, his hips stuttering as they connect with yours, his power lessening, cooling, as he looks for your release.

“I–I think–oh fuck, do that again. Yes! Just–ah!”

He angles your hips upward and gives your clit another quick oscillation, pressing down until you’re gasping. “There you go. That felt good. You’re getting tighter,” he laughs, looming over you, shoving your heaving chest downward as he jerks your hips into him, forcing your body to do most of the motion, making your shoulder blades scrape across the uneven wood. “Cum for me. Fucking cum on my cock, (Y/N). Cum and I’ll give you your A, I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want.”

Your spine arches as you break around him, your cunt greedily pulling him deeper, slipping him past the barrier of your tender cervix and earning you a weak shout of praise from Shigaraki. Seconds later, he’s pulsing and twitching against your walls, the warm pooling of his cum filling you up and spilling down your spread thighs.

His head drops to your shoulder and the rough skin of his forehead sticks to your sweat dampened flesh. For a long moment you’re both still, each of you struggling to catch your breath, luxuriating in the tingling sensation of release.

“I fucking hate you, you know,” you gasp out, your arms circling his back, fingertips etching vague patterns over his neck and shoulders.

“Ha,” he snorts, “I’ll have to remember that. Don’t worry (Y/N), I’ll pay you back for that little remark next time.”

“Oh? Next time?” you chuckle, moaning as he twists out of your hold and pulls his softening length out of you.

“I’ll fail you on every assignment if you try to keep away,” he threatens, his eyes falling to the gaping mess that he’s left behind. You cross your legs, denying him the satisfaction of leering at your dripping pussy.

“Fine. But next time, fuck me on something softer than a damn table.”

tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @rekoii, @diaouranask, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @libiraki <--- i’m coming for you. you’re gonna have to read for this, lady. so, uh, i’m officially noneconing you here.

notes: you made it! this thing is a monster & i’m so sorry i can never stfu

#shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #reader insert #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #bnha smut #9 to 5 collab #bnha degeneracy server #collaboration #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: teacher/student #tw: dubcon #tw: bribery

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psychewritesbs · 3 years

Photo

Chapter 160: How much of Yuji’s life has been orchestrated? + Megumi the stage-five clinger

Happy JJK-Sunday!

If I had to describe chapter 160 with as few words as possible, I would say: Oh f*ck...

My favorite moment was, of course, Megumi acting like a stage-five clinger. His interaction with Yuji in this chapter is especially ominous in light of Yuji being adamant of protecting Megumi from Sukuna.

A second favorite was Sasaki showing up in this chapter because of the implications moving forward.

Let’s jump right in.

How much of Yuji’s life has been orchestrated by Kenjaku?

We start the chapter with Kenjaku talking to none other than Sasaki, one of the members of the Occult Club at the high school in Sendai that Yuji used to attend.

Of course, the bomb that Gege dropped on us in this chapter is when Kenjaku thanks Sasaki “for getting along with my son”.

Like... excuse you?

Not only does this 100% confirm that Kenjaku used Yuji’s mother’s body to give birth to him, but this specific moment + some foreshadowing from previous chapters also opens an interesting can of worms about Yuji’s life: just how much of Yuji’s life has Kenjaku orchestrated?

For me, the implication is that Sasaki had an assigned role to play in Yuji’s life that would inevitably lead to him eating Sukuna’s finger.

I am assuming this because although we don’t see Kenjaku’s interactions with the other people in Sendai, we get to see that, in addition for thanking her for getting along with Yuji, Kenjaku is incredibly kind to Sasaki. We also learn that she’s the only one who has received a special message from him (thanking her).

Ready to make this whole interaction more ominous? Someone pointed out that the kanji in Sasaki’s name means assistant.

All of this brings us right back to Yuji’s free will--or lack thereof?

We already know that Kenjaku claims he made Yuji “ingest” Sukuna’s finger and that Megumi is rightfully concerned with this idea because he witnessed Yuji eat Sukuna’s finger “of his own free will.”

It’s also becoming increasingly obvious that Yuji was "created” solely for the purpose of becoming Sukuna’s vessel.

What this new reveal about Sasaki does is that it makes everything feel like certain events have been part of Kenjaku’s master plan all along. While this still feels a little farfetched, it will come down to how Gege works this idea into the story moving forward.

Come to think of it, even Yuji’s grandfather’s dying words to Yuji take on a new meaning since we know Wasuke knew something was definitively up with Yuji’s mother.

Another possible bit of foreshadowing all the way in chapter 1: While the intersection in the second panel below could be ANY intersection in Japan, it sure looks like the Shibuya crossing:

A quick note on the importance of kanji meanings in JJK before moving onto the next section: knowing the meaning of Sasaki’s name tells us that names are important in JJK. If you haven’t, I recommend you read my break down on the meaning of Megumi’s FULL NAME. His first name is important, but so is his last name.

The plans moving forward

Going off to Tokyo Colony #2 are Panda and Hakari.

As the strongest, Hakari feels like he should take on Hajime. As for Panda, it looks like his focus will be on hunting down Angel.

Side note: I love that Hakari is still calling Megumi names. Guess Senpai can’t help himself.

I must admit I was disappointed to find that Kirara will stay behind to report, but it is what it is. I am assuming Gege could see no use for Kirara and decided to leave the character out of the action for the time being.

As for Megumi and Yuji, they’ll be heading to Tokyo Colony #1 to target Higuruma, everybody’s new favorite Law & Order boss.

This brings us to Megumi’s current state of mind...

Megumi the stage-five clinger

I had a hard time coming up with the title for this section because what I see happening is that Megumi is starting to feel the pressure of the looming deadline for Tsumiki joining the Culling Game. What his behavior shows, however, is that he needs Yuji with him and is clinging onto him but won’t come out and say it--opting instead for aggression towards Yuji, the very same person he needs most.

His behavior reminded me of how Megumi could be mean to Tsumiki even though he clearly adores her. Apparently that’s the meaning of being tsundere. I’ve read about the term tsundere before but it never “clicked” until this moment and I just love Gege’s interpretation of the trope through Megumi’s character.

It goes without saying that it was REALLY interesting to me to see Megumi’s dynamic and interaction with Yuji in this chapter because it looks like Gege is letting us know Megumi’s state of mind continues to be one of desperation--remember that dogeza bow from chapter 157?

The thing about Megumi is that he looks stoic on the outside, but he’s actually an incredibly emotional person who doesn’t often show how he’s feeling.

I hadn’t caught on, but in chatting with @justafrenchlondoner about the chapter, they pointed out Megumi’s behavior in his dynamic with Yuji appears nervous and aggressive.

Upon a second look I have to agree that Megumi is acting out of character and aggressive with Yuji when all that Yuji really wants is to protect Megumi from Sukuna.

And yes, let me go ahead and sound like a broken record as I remind you of Yuji’s rather ominous words from chapter 143 yet again:

And this is the part of the chapter that knocked the air out of me: Megumi telling Yuji to stfu about Sukuna but Yuji thinking to himself “as long as I’m around you will suffer” back in ch143 is so damn ominous.

Oh f*ck...

But this is what REALLY gets me about this whole interaction and why I’m calling Megumi a stage-five clinger...

Even though Megumi is calling Yuji selfish, in reality, the one being selfish is Megumi.

This is, of course, my own interpretation of the situation, but to me it feels as though Megumi is clinging onto Yuji’s strength for dear life.

It’s almost like Megumi needs not just Yuji’s physical strength, but also his unwavering conviction or mental strength.

If you think about it, Megumi has only recently started fighting to win. Remember how unsure he was of himself when fighting Sukuna for the first time? It wasn’t until he went up against the Cursed Spirit from the Yasohachi bridge that he let go of his inhibitions.

Megumi’s battles during Shibuya were the pinnacle of his growth as a character in that moment. If I remember correctly, according to the timeline of events, the Shibuya incident happened around two weeks prior to the current chapter. You could say that although he is more comfortable in his strength than before, Megumi is still growing into his strength at this point.

The thing about Megumi is that everybody and their Divine Dog believes in him and sees his potential except for him. As Gojo tells him “you undervalue yourself.”

Looking back, the way Megumi asks begs Yuji for help in chapter 143 is very enlightening of how Megumi needs Yuji’s strength:

I initially had read this to mean Megumi needed Yuji’s physical strength. Upon second look, however, Megumi has always seemed to have admiration for Yuji’s conviction.

With the looming deadline for Tsumiki’s vow to join the Culling Game, as Megumi starts to feel the pressure to make his plan work, who better to keep around than the person who will always go for the home run and whose strength he admires?

In other words, like hell he’s going to let Yuji leave his side. Which, again, only makes it more heartbreaking to think Sukuna is up to no good regarding Megumi and Yuji wants to protect him from that.

Oh f*ck.......

The panel below feels like a bit of a lighthearted and comical moment, but it’s also interesting to note that this is the second time they “fight”.

The first “fight” having taken place during the Cursed Womb Arc.

If you will remember, Gege used the Cursed Womb Arc and the Origin of Obedience Arc to show us how much our favorite trio had grown.

Not sure Gege is going to parallel something here again, but just interesting to note.

Oh f*ck...

Ya, please excuse the French.

Despite the many words I’ve shared here, this chapter left me mostly speechless.

I feel like I’ve been trapped in Gojo’s limitless domain expansion and all I can think is “oh f*ck” or “halloween” (if you catch my drift).

Chapter 160 was incredible because it looks like Gege has finally finished putting all his pieces into place and is ready to go for the kill by:

Starting to unravel the story bit by bit, giving us all of the twists we both saw and did not see coming, and

Ramping up the stakes. Taking into consideration the estimates that JJK is somewhere around 60-70% done at this point, It’s not a matter of whether some of our beloved characters will die, but about who, when and how they will die

One last detail

I love the last four panels of the chapter showing Panda, Hakari, Yuji and Megumi all wearing their uniforms (barring Panda) and getting ready to become official participants of the Culling Game by entering their respective barriers.

Knowing that Gege is a very talented artist capable of showing and expressing emotions through his art, I feel like these panels tell us a lot about what the characters might be thinking and I thought I’d expand on that.

Bear in mind this is my personal interpretation as an artist:

Panda looks excited and ready to fight, perhaps even confident. Panda is saying “bring it!” with his body language

There’s a hint of something I can’t describe in Hakari’s face. It’s almost like he’s coming face to face against how big of a challenge this is going to be and yet he’s resolved to walk straight into “the depths of hell itself”

Yuji looks focused, determined to go in and give it his best no matter what comes his way--that’s just who he is

And then there’s Megumi. I’ve been drawing Megumi recently, and one thing I noticed is that he has very specific micro-expressions. In his panel, he’s warming up his wrists as though he’s getting ready to fight, he has a focused look on his face, but the shadows around his eyes say he might be feeling like he is carrying the heavy burden of the uncertainty surrounding the situation he’s going through

With all that being said... the Culling Game is officially starting and we’re in for a one-way ride straight to hell.

Thank you for reading and happy JJK-Sunday!

What about you? What did you enjoy most about chapter 160?

#fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #yuji itadori #itadori yuuji #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen manga #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #god i love jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen meta #jujutsu kaisen theory #jjk ch 160 #gege akutami #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #hakari kinji #jjk meta #jjk theory

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universalistotalis · 3 years

Text

Stiff That You Love

Ushijima Wakatoshi (Timeskip!) x Female reader

Masterlist!!!

You never thought you'd see him again. You almost choked on the truffle pasta that you ordered in this café when a certain beautiful giant waved and made his way to you.

"Holy damn." You whispered underneath your breath as his strides made their way towards your table. You knew he was already a show stopper back then, but now???!

You were so sure everyone would drop dead at the sight of him.

"Hi." He greeted with his deep voice. "Do you still remember me?"

Surprise filled your expression at his question but you smiled politely and nodded your head. "How could I forget? How are you Ushijima?"

You swore you saw a glint of relief and excitement in his eyes but it immediately wavered as he motioned to the chair in front of you.

"May I?" He asked again, holding the back of the chair.

Is he really going to sit here with me?!

"Sure, of course." Your voice squeaked at the feeling of your heart bursting out of your chest. His greeting was enough to kick the air out of your lungs but a whole conversation?! You didn't know how long you would last in his ever- intimidating presence.

It was already the last year in college and you were so determined to graduate with latin honors. Every single minute of your life, you dedicated it to studies, friends and family. They were all that mattered. And so you stayed until the wee hours at certain café spots around the university or at the library inside the campus. You went to meet up with friends during the weekends only for a simple dinner or lunch. You called your family members every chance you get during free time. That was your life. And you were content.

But then this boy came in to the picture.

"You will be partnered together and I shall assign the pair. Make sure you finish the written output, video presentation, and oral defense at the end of the semester." Those were the words of your professor during one of your classes before yours and his name were called out together.

You swore it was fate. Romance was really not in the forefront of your mind but as they say, "You'll find it best when you're not looking".

AND MY GOD WERE YOU SO WRONG!

This man named Ushijima Wakatoshi who came out from nowhere, looking as good they come, had no ounce of romance nor funny bone in his muscular body. He was the most dense, most serious, most infuriating man you've ever met in your whole life!!! He was a whole perfectionist, always so blunt at his comments about the outputs that you showed him. He was also so strict with the deadlines, not considering that you had other classes than this that had much more weight and importance.

You were so close to giving up but...

"Y/n?" You knew that voice only belonged to the certain antagonist in your story right now.

Your hands trembled as you wiped the tears streaming down your face after your meeting together at the library.

"Ushijima, hey!" You pretended to be your usual chirpy self as you turned around to face him.

It was already late so the lights surrounding the university casted an unworldly glow on his face. He was always so breathtaking no matter where you put him but damn those looks! He was just as heartless.

"Are you alright?" He asked with a worried tone.

"I'm fine. I'll be going home now. See you next week." You excused yourself.

"Wait." His cold fingers caught your arm and that made you stop your tracks.

"Is there a problem, Wakatoshi?"

He bowed his head before slowly releasing you in his grip. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior."

"W-what?" You wanted to make sure if what your ears heard was right. He does not seem the type to apologize.

You heard another deep sigh as he looked at you. "I've always been told that I come off too much to others. I didn't realize it until recently when one of my friends told me."

"Oh, well..."

"I'll try to be better though. I'll be more careful from now on. And I'm really sorry if I ever hurt your feelings in the past." He said with all seriousness that you can't help but sigh and just nod.

"You can be really mean sometimes." You agreed and chuckled, letting a tear escape your eyes.

"You've been crying." He stated flatly as if he was reciting a trivia. "I'm still so sorry."

You giggled. "Yeah, I forgive you. Anyway, it's getting late, Wakatoshi. We have to head home."

"I'll walk you home." He said with a finality in his voice. You were again, surprised by his actions but just agreed because this was such a draining day.

And as you were nearing where you stayed, you were again surprised at how comforting his presence was.

You did find his presence after that night relaxing. He became more tactful and he started to insert jokes during your meetings which shocked you so much the first time that he felt a little offended. You became such close friends that his team mates in volleyball were again, shocked that he managed to get a friend outside the team. It was just a matter of getting used to, you thought to yourself. He's just so honest, mechanical, and straightforward to a fault and you got to master how to tell him off when needed. He also developed to trust you so whenever he needed advice, he would always go to you and trust your honest words.

Looking at him now, it made your heart warm at how far he'd come. It's amazing to have known him then. To have seen how he grew as an athlete, a student, and a person. He may still be a little stiff but that's just the Wakatoshi you've come to love.

"Soo..." He started while sitting back down again after claiming his coffee from the counter. "I am not disturbing you, am I?" He pointed at the laptop and papers next to you.

You laughed. "Not at all! I finished them anyway."

"How have you been then?" He asked. His elbows were resting on the table and his hands were holding on to the cup of coffee. The sight was a little funny considering his giant built was leaned onto a very small table.

You smiled gently. "I've been good! I got the job that I dreamed of having and I own some businesses too. Ho--"

"Your eyes sparkle the same way." He cut off.

"What?" You asked, surprised at his random comment.

"Your eyes..." He pointed out. "They sparkle the same way they did in college when you were talking about something you like."

"How did you notice that?" You laughed.

"I'm known to be observant." He smirked slightly, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Okay, Mr. Oh-So-Observant, how are your matches going? I've been tuning in since the first tournament and it looks like you're going to the semi- finals!" You cheered not hiding your pride and excitement for the country's national volleyball team. When you searched on how to watch the live games, you insisted that you were there to cheer for the country and definitely NOT to cheer and simp for a certain brown- haired, serious player. Definitely NOT!

"You've been watching our games?" He asked, eyes slightly widening at the thought of you cheering for him. What he didn't know was that you were always watching his games since college, not missing even one match. You were always there, crying at how proud you were of him. Also, crying at how much he could never be yours.

"Of course, I have, silly!" You chuckled and pointed at your laptop. "I've been watching here and you're just so amazing and strong!"

He suddenly paused at your statement, silently raising a brow at you and smiling softly.

"I- I meant that your whole team is amazing and strong." You clarified, a blush automatically painting the whole of your face and ears.

"Would you like to go tomorrow?" He blinked, setting down his cup on the wooden surface. "To the game, I mean?"

Your eyes widened at his offer. "Are you serious?!"

He chuckled at your reaction. "Of course! We're allowed to bring spectators for the games, I'll just give you the tickets."

"Wow, Ushijima, thank you so much! It's an honor!" You chimed excitedly, jumping a little on your chair.

"The honor's mine." He replied, grinning at you.

He already knew back then that you were one of a kind. No one ever really stayed and tried to understand his demeanor and personality but you did. You were so honest and kind and you always knew what to do or say to keep him at ease. You accepted him for who he was and he's so thankful to have met such a beautiful soul. Even when you were doing nothing, even when you're just sitting across this table from him, without you knowing, you already made up his entire exhausting day. Hell, you made up all those exhausting years of not seeing each other since you two graduated. He suddenly imagined if being with you would always be like this. So peaceful and just pure bliss...

"You've got to be shitting on me! Is that Ushiwaka?" The pair sitting next to the glass walls of the café was oblivious of the red- haired tower and group of men walking past the street. All of them were wearing coats and casual attires as they're planning to go for lunch at their favorite restaurant for a little reunion. The all powerful Shiratorizawa Volleyball Team, headed by Ushijima in high school, cowered like puppies at the name of their captain being mentioned.

"Where?!" Goshiki stopped and shielded himself from an invisible force. "He said he couldn't make it!"

"I guess our baby's growing up, look!" Tendou hummed and pointed at the two of you laughing and looking at each other with heart eyes. "I bet they don't know that they're shooting hearts at each other."

"I never thought he could smile like that." Semi whispered.

"Yeah well, he's been crushing on that girl since college." Tendou filled the silent wonder of the whole group. "That's why she looked familiar! He kept sending me photos of them together studying or something..."

"Studying, my ass!" Shirabu laughed as they continued staring and hiding behind a post at the same time.

They all burst out laughing and again Tendou chuckled. "No seriously, they were studying!"

"Yeah well, they look good together. I hope he'd have the balls to ask her out. Please god!" Goshiki put his hands together as if seriously praying.

"Bet you 10, 000 yen, we'd be attending his wedding two years from now." Semi challenged.

"Nah, I'll go with a year." Tendou offered.

The men casted their bets on how long you and Ushijima would get married. They knew their captain so well to be sure enough that he was serious with you. Safe to say, Semi won the bet.

Reblogs are appreciated! <3

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

Text

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts:

Epilogue:

--/--

6 Months Later

“Stop- Katsuki, stop it!” You huff a frustrated sigh, shooting him an unimpressed glare. “Why can’t you just sit still?”

“Because this is takin’ too goddamn long! Waste of fuckin’ minutes.”

“Well this is important to me, so you’re gonna sit back and shut up and-“ You nearly scream when he shifts again, almost dislodging the measuring tape you’d wrapped around his wrist. “Sit still! Jesus, angry man, it’ll literally take two seconds if you just stop fighting me!”

He grumbles, something low and petulant under his breath, but then falls back against the couch fully. Bakugou finally relents, hand going slack in your hold as he shuts his eyes.

You were gonna kill him, no seriously, you were gonna murder him. He was being so difficult, way more difficult than usual, and you had a sneaking suspiscion it was because he was tired- because, as you’d quickly found out, from only a few months of dating, Katsuki was an absolute toddler about sleep. You’d come to understand that him being tired led to him being cranky, and him being cranky led to him being so goddamn annoying and combative that it made you want to tear your hair out.

He was lucky you loved him so much- not that you told him that yet.

You’d known you loved him for months now, could feel it the way your body heated if you thought of him, the way your blood sang if you so much as heard his name. It was a full body sensation for you- the way you loved him. There was just no escaping it; no escaping the way he’d carved himself a spot in every single part of you. You couldn’t imagine life without him, didn’t even want to try- but you couldn’t tell him so.

Every time you’d tried you were tongue-tied and stuttering and red in the face. The words were thick in your mouth, clogging up the back of your throat. You just couldn’t figure out how to say them; no matter how many times you’d tried.

You flip his arm over, measuring the space between his thumb and his wrist. You’re trying to be delicate and gentle, but truthfully you really just wanted to get this done quickly.

With the deadline for your last college project quickly approaching, you’d spent the last few weeks doing nothing but devoting all your time and losing sleep over it. It seemed like no matter what support item you’d devised, it didn’t seem perfect- didn’t seem inspired enough to turn in for your final grade. So you dedicated yourself to watching clips and looked at hero rankings and pretty much sacrificed your social life entirely, just to stew over it. It took watching Bakugou’s own hero highlights with him to snap you out of your funk. You wanted to smack yourself; he’d been in front of you the entire time! Of course, it had to be an item for him. So you got to building and designing with renewed spirit.

Katsuki was an amazing fighter, you knew this, and his prowess in battle and raw power alone was quite literally unmatched by almost every opponent- but, the only thing holding him back was that he didn’t do so well with civilians. Try as he might, Bakugou’s loud, flashy, quirk just didn’t paint him as particularly friendly, and his brash personality didn’t help either. And, since you’d long ago given up trying to soften his character, but maybe you could help with his quirk. You figured that was pretty much your degree right?

So, for the past month or so, you’d been secretly working on a gauntlet attachment for him. You’d designed it to quiet his explosions, similar to a silencer on a gun, in hopes that civilians would stop reporting hearing loss after being saved by your very loud boyfriend. Truthfully, you knew it wouldn’t fix all his problems, but maybe then his ratings would go up a tiny bit. And, you figured, if you then just built the prototype you designed, then it could serve as a birthday present for him too. Two birds with one stone, right?

If only it was that simple.

It wasn’t. You were a perfectionist and you’d been pouring your blood, sweat, and tears for weeks now, but it still didn’t feel like enough. It felt like you were running out of time. Even now, while actively taking measurements for said project, you felt uneasy spending time with Bakugou.

“You done yet, woman?” He peeks an eye open.

“Almost.” You grab your phone, typing the measurements into your notes. “See how easy and quick this went when you stopped being annoying?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to be so fuckin’ annoying if you’d just tell me what you’re makin’ already.”

“Nope. Already talked about this, Katsu,” You let go of his hand. “It’s a surprise! You don’t wanna spoil your birthday surprise, do you?”

You’re joking, smiling widely at him and fluttering your eyelashes. He doesn’t look very amused. Katsuki just squints at you for a moment before poking your side.

“That’s fuckin’ stupid. You’re being annoying. Stop it.”

“Fine. Well I guess since you don’t want it, maybe I just won’t give it to you then.” You tease, moving to leave the couch. “Maybe I just won’t give you any of the gifts I was planning to.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, huffs like he is very inconvienced, and grabs your wrist. He pulls until you’re falling into him, crashing into his chest and settling on his lap.

“I didn’t fuckin’ say that, idiot.” He grumbles, hands falling around your sides. “Stop putting shitty words in my mouth already.”

“I can’t. Pretty sure that’s my job actually.” You laugh, bracing your hands on his chest as you straighten. “Besides, you say like 3 words and all of them are swears, angry man. Someone’s gotta be the talker out of the two of us.”

“It shouldn’t be you. You’re better quiet.” His words were cold, but he was rubbing warm circles into your lower back. “Fuckin’ silent.”

“Wow- we sure are cranky tonight, huh, angry man? Is it bedtime for baby, already?”

“You’re not funny.”

“No, I’m pretty funny.” You laugh, brushing the the wild hair away from his forehead with a gentle hand. “But seriously though, if you’re tired, I don’t have to stay. I don’t mind, I can leave if you just want to sleep.”

He screws his face up at that, comically offended and dramatic as he drops his face into your shoulder. Katsuki’s arms wrap around your sides, pulling you close until you’re flush against his chest. He tightens his grip and doesn’t seem like he plans to let go any time soon.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, angry man, I get it. I won’t leave right now- but I can’t stay for too long.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“That project, remember? I’m nearly done.”

He huffs again, arms curling tighter around you. You’re a little confused- truthfully, he usually is more physical than verbal, especially when he’s tired, but he’s never this physically affectionate. His voice is a near snarl when he speaks again.

“I fuckin’ hate that stupid as shit assignment.”

“Yeah, well, you hate pretty much everything; so I can’t say I’m exactly suprised, Katsuki.”

“No. Seriously.” He gruffs, fingers twitching at your sides. Katsuki takes a deep breath, biting out his next words quickly. “Haven’t seen you in fuckin’ days.”

“Aww-”

“Say another goddamn word and I’ll take it back, woman. Try me.”

“Okay. I won’t.” You giggle. “But I really am serious, I can’t stay over tonight. Got work to do still.”

“That’s stupid.” Bakugou says and then he’s squeezing you once again, keeping you trapped tight against his chest. “You’re being stupid.”

“Wow. Thanks.” You snort, looking up at him. His mouth is pressed into a tense grimace, so you try patting his cheek playfully. “You know though, one of these days you’re actually gonna have to start using your nice words- can’t just continue insulting me or I might just disappear forever.”

He doesn’t seem to like your joke. Not at all.

“I’m kidding. I’m not going anywhere.” You console. “I’m only picking on you, you know, so don’t be so sensitive, angry man. You insult me all the time.”

“When the fuck did I insult ya?”

“Katsuki-“ You utter in disbelief, your hand moving to play with the hairs on the back of his neck. “You literally just called me stupid! And you said you liked me better silent! Like 2 minutes ago!”

He shrugs, and you can feel his face heat against your neck, but he doesn’t say anything.

“You’re awfully lucky I like you so much.” You sigh. “Because otherwise I’d have to kick your teeth in every time you opened your mouth.”

“Like you could even get that close to me, shitty woman.”

“Strong words for a man currently making a home in my collarbone, Katsuki.”

“That’s-I- You know what,” He starts, extending an arm and pushing against your shoulders to create distance. “Say shit like that again and I swear to god I’ll...”

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll- I’ll fuckin-“ He stutters, face red and fists clenched. “I’ll-“

You think he looks adorable- all huffy and red and embarrassed where he sits. Katsuki’s eyebrows are pinched together in that competitive crease you’d come to know so well, his mouth curled around a familiar snarl. You were sure it must’ve looked terrfying to anyone else- but you weren’t just anyone else. You were his soulmate and you knew exactly how to get him to calm down.

You caught his face in both of your hands, crossing the distance until your lips met his. Bakugou tried to set the pace, because he always tried at first, armed with bruising pressure and dominance and uncoordinated aggression. You weren’t new here though- you had a lot more tricks of your sleeve than he did.

You ran a hand up his spine, your nails just barely catching on to the fabric of shirt, trailing the back of his neck until they landed in his hair. He damn near melted into you at that, and he pretty much dissolved when your other hand ran under the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re gonna what now?” You asked, pulling away slowly. You’re breathless and blushing yourself but that never stopped you before. “C’mon, Katsuki, tell me. What you were gonna do?”

“I-huh?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot?” You giggled. Unable to help yourself, you pecked his lips again. “You seemed so determined though!”

He’s still dazed- red and embarrassed as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes. You can’t stop the victorious smirk that rolls across your face.

“You’re an evil fucking woman.” He finally says, breathless. “Shitty too.”

“Mhm, I know.”

“Shouldn’t sound so fuckin’ happy about it. ‘S not a compliment, idiot.”

“I know.” You pat his chest, pushing away from him until you’re standing on your own. “Now, c’mon, up. Sleep time, right?”

You see the look on his face, and it almost kills you to crush it.

“No, that doesn’t mean I’m staying, angry man. I’ll take a nap with you and then I’m going home.” You offer your hand out to him. “Sound good?”

"Whatever.” He doesn’t seem all that pleased and he bats your hand away lightly, standing on his own. He starts down the hallway towards his bedroom with stomping steps and you follow. “You better actually go to sleep though- ya got ugly fuckin’ bags under your eyes, woman.”

You stop in your tracks, a wheeze escaping you. It didn’t matter how many conversations you’d had with him, how many times he’d accidentally insulted you with his blunt words, it still surprised you every time. And maybe it was your tired state, all the sleep lost over the past few weeks finally piling up, but his words hurt a little this time- hit a nerve and made you angry.

“Alright, well, on that note. Maybe I will go home!” You huff, thumping a fist against his back. “That was so mean! What the hell, angry man! I’m literally busting my ass right now and that’s what you have to say to me? That I’m ugly to you? That’s fucking rude! I didn’t- I’m leaving. I don’t even have enough time for this anyway and I-”

He spins around quickly, pressing you into the wall as he grabs your arm. You can’t hit him anymore, not with the sturdy grip he has on your wrist, but the look on Katsuki’s face really makes you want to. He looks insulted, tired, but mostly just annoyed by your reaction. You swear you could kill him that moment, but then he’s gathering you into his chest and you’re melting against him. He’s still your soulmate- no matter how angry he makes you.

“N-not like that. Idiot. Not ugly.” He mumbles against your hair, voice tight and shy. You didn’t have to see his face to know he was blushing furiously. “I meant- I- you’re not fuckin’ sleeping. I can see it. So you have to sleep.”

“I-what?”

“I’m not fucking stupid. You’re tired- it’s obvious. Have been for weeks.”

“You noticed?”

“Course I fuckin’ did.” He shifts on feet anxiously, swaying you a bit in your arms. “See your stupid face all the time- I can tell that shit about you.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” You pull back a bit in surprise, trying catch his eyes. He won’t let you, eyes zeroed on the wall, just behind your head. His face is a violent shade of red. You roll your eyes fondly, gently guiding him to look at you with your hands on his burning cheeks. “I shouldn’t have flipped, but that still wasn’t very nice. You really should’ve just said what you meant the first time around, but it’s fine. I understand. School’s just been tough with final assignments and stuff, you know? I’m alright though- just a little tired. Like you said.”

Katsuki doesn’t seem pleased with your answer, his eyebrows creasing as he grumbles something under his breath.

“What? Couldn’t hear you, angry man.”

“I said-” He starts strong, nearly confident until his tone quickly falls off. Then he’s mumbling again and crushing you to his chest so he doesn’t have to meet your eyes.

“W-what are you trying to say?”

“God, you always make me say such embarrassing shit!” He growls, voice loud next to your ear. “I said- I said- you’re doing too much, idiot! You haven’t been around much and it’s fuckin’ makin’ me mad and worryin’ me and all that stupid, disgusting, annoying, shit! So just give yourself a fuckin’ break, already!”

You’re pressed close to Katsuki, and when you press you hand flat against his chest, you can feel his heart racing wildly under your fingertips. He must’ve been upset about this for a while, you realize- to be expending this much energy, when usually he’d be dead on his feet at this time of night. You feel a little guilty for it, but more than anything you’re gooey and warm all over.

“I-I’m sorry. For worrying you.” You soothe, pressing a chaste kiss to his chest. “And I know you tell me not to apologize to you, but I mean it this time. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’ll take better care of myself. I promise.”

“Good. I-”

“Hmm?”

“N-nothing.” He stutters, flushing violently all of the sudden. He spins on his heels quickly, dragging you down the hallway and into his bedroom. “You have to stay now.”

“No- I can’t. I told you.”

“And I fuckin’ told you to chill the hell out and take a break.” He barks, digging through his dresser and throwing a pair of sweats at you. “Stop being fuckin’ difficult. You’re staying.”

Truly, you want to fight him. Your brain is running wildly, a million different ideas and worries battering around inside your skull- but he’s right. You are tired. Have been tired for weeks now. If you went home now, you knew you’d just talk yourself into working some more. So maybe a tiny, tiny little break wouldn’t hurt, right? Just something small. A single night.

“Fine. But I’m leaving early tomorrow morning.”

You knew you made the right decision when he smiles at you; a small, tiny, pleased, little thing that just barely curls the edges of his mouth. It seems like it’d be hardly noticeable, but you’d been dreaming of that smile for months now. He very rarely graced you with it, very rarely shared something so delicate and uncharacteristically soft but it winded you every time.

Katsuki fell asleep almost immediately after pulling your down into bed with him. He’d barely curled around you, hardly even let his head hit the pillow before beginning to snore. That smile stayed though. He kept it even as his breathing slowed and his grip on you loosened.

That same overwhelming warmth you’d been feeling for weeks overtook you again- that same blistering, endless affection rendering your limbs shaky and your breaths unsteady as you stared at him.

I love him. You realized. More than anything.

--/--

As it turns out, letting Bakugou drag you into some much needed rest is exactly what you needed.

The next morning you’d left his place, mind refreshed and completely reinvigorated to once again start working on the gauntlet attachment. You’d love to say it was just the sleep that fixed you up- but you knew the truth. It was him- him and increasingly strange ways of showing affection.

Settling down into your desk chair, you pulled the schematics you’d drawn up once more. There wasn’t much left to build, only a few more parts you’d need to fabricate with your quirk, and then you’d be ready to put it all together.

Using past records of his costumes, and studying various clips of him in his current costume, you’d finally felt certain that you’d gotten it right. It was a pain conducting the research, especially because you’d had to contact the support companies personally, but in the end you were happy you did it. You wanted this to be a possible improvement for him, but you also wanted it to fit in with his current arsenal. It was a risk for sure, giving your prototype as a gift, and you’d be totally crushed if decided to not use it, but you’d take the chance.

Bakugou had only mentioned the problem a single time in the past, and even then it was a passing comment, but you couldn’t seem to let it go.

I’m sick of kid’s always fuckin’ cryin’ when I save them. My explosions aren’t that fuckin’ scary, are they?

He’d said it in the middle of a rant, his eyes pressed tightly together as he paced angrily, but something about his tone struck you. When he said it, he didn’t sound angry. Bakugou sounded upset and frustrated and almost hopeless. You knew it bothered him more than he let on, and from then you wanted to help him- but you couldn’t imagine stripping him of his quirk.

It, his explosions, were important to him. They were his power and his pride and they helped him save people. He was so, so proud of them, and it broke your heart to think that they were the only thing left holding him back. So, you figured, what if he kept the force but lost the sound? Kid’s normally liked bright lights a lot more than loud sounds, after all.

Grunting with effort, you began fabricating gears and wires and screws between your hands. It took hours and nearly all of your energy, but you’d finally done it. You had everything you needed to finish his gift.

The next few weeks flew by in a flurry of construction, and deadlines, and sleeplessness but by the time his birthday rolled around, you were ready. Your schematics had been turned in and approved by your professors, you’d passed your final project, and you were finally finished building the prototype. Everything was going great- but you knew why you were really happy.

The last few weeks had been packed for you, and you’d hardly had time for anybody. You felt guilty about it, of course, and you only felt worse when you only heard Bakugou’s voice over the phone each night, but there was no helping it.

Or, at least, there wasn’t- but it wasn’t crunch time anymore. You’d suddenly found yourself with an wealth of free-time, and you knew exactly who you were gonna spend it on.

--/--

Using the key he’d given you, you slipped into the apartment, closing the door quietly. It was difficult in the dark, stumbling slightly with the gifts and cake currently held in your hands, but you’d managed it. Everything had gone smoothly on the way there, you’d just put the cake safely in the fridge, and now you could wake your soulmate up to the best birthday of his life.

What shame he had to go and ruin it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You jumped, heart seizing in your chest.

“Jesus- fuck.” You yelled in the dark. You blindly felt your way out of the kitchen and into the living room, towards the sound of his voice. “Bakugou! What the fuck, man?”

“What the- no! Me! I should be the one fuckin’ saying that!” His voice was raised, and you couldn’t see his fists but you knew they were probably clenched tightly into fists. “Almost blew you up, idiot! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh my god.” You huffed, hands rubbing at your tired eyes. “I was going to wake you up! Surprise you! Because it’s your birthday and it’s- wait, what the fuck are you even doing up? It’s like 6:30 AM, on a Saturday!”

“What the hell are you even on about? I’m always fuckin’ awake right now!”

“Yeah! On a work day! When you’re working!” You can’t help but be frustrated; you wanted to be cute and sweet and Bakugou had ruined it entirely. As he so often did. “But you’re not even working today! It’s your day off! And I know you sleep in on those, so why?”

“Couldn’t fuckin’ slee-”

“What do you mean?” You interrupt, finally flipping the light switch and flooding the room with light. “Swear to god you’re dead to the world the second you hit the pillow! Literally happens every time I stay over. You’re out by 8:30! Why is today of all days the day you choose not to sleep?”

He doesn’t say anything in response to your outburst, and that’s when you finally look at him. It had been almost 3 weeks since you’d last visited, and he didn’t look like you remembered him. It wasn’t anything super obvious at first, but upon closer inspection you could see the deep bags under his eyes, and the pale, lifelessness of his skin. He was telling the truth; apparently, he really hadn’t be able to sleep- and it didn’t start just last night either.

“Hey. Katsuki,” Your irritation from earlier faded. Suddenly filled with concern, you stepped towards him, taking his face in your hands. Bakugou tried to turn away, but you didn’t let him. “What’s up, huh? You alright?”

“Fine.”

“No. You’re not. You look tired. Are you sick?”

“No.” He mumbled, his hands falling on your waist as you stood in front of him. “I’m fine. Workin’ a lot or whatever. I’m fuckin’ fine.”

You nod, eyebrows rising in surprise as he suddenly pulls you in. He presses his face into your stomach, arms around your sides as he shuts his eyes. There it is again- that unusual physicality. This strange behavior had stopped for a while recently, but now it seemed to be back in full-force.

“Do you wanna try sleeping again?” You ask after a beat. “I’ve got birthday stuff for you, but we can do always do it later. We’ve got the whole day, right?”

“What- you plannin’ to actually be here or some shit?” He grumbles, with a lot more intentional bite than you’re used to hearing from him. “I’m surprised. Didn’t know an idiot like you still had the fuckin’ brain cells to remember.”

You’re shocked, rendered completely still and stiff in his hold. Was he- was he mad at you?

“What?” You try to push away from him, to get a look at his face, but he doesn’t let you. Bakugou’s arms only tighten and you’re left even more confused. “Are you upset with me? Are you tired? What’s wrong?”

“You really fuckin’ piss me off.”

“What?”

He only growls under his breath, voice raspy and deep. “Whatever. You don’t fuckin’ get it. Let’s just go to sleep.”

“No- but I-” You stutter, feeling out of place. Katsuki sounded so frustrated and angry and you couldn’t figure out what was wrong. “If you’re upset with me we need to talk about it. What happened? What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t respond to your question, only knocks your feet out from under you and stands with you in his arms. You’re dumbfounded. He has never, not ever, carried you anywhere. He’s never even made an attempted to lift you! Something was seriously off with him today- and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was.

Katsuki was mad at you. You knew that, he’d said it himself. But then why was he carrying you down the hall to his bedroom? Why wasn’t he kicking you out?

He kicks open the door, pushing it shut loudly behind him. He looks pissed when you look up at him, his eyebrow’s creased together in an agitated line, but even so, Katsuki sets you down on the bed gently. You’re hardly able to catch your breath when he’s climbing in on the other side, pulling you close and lying practically on top of you.

“What? I- Katsuki?” You asked desperately, brain reeling. “What’s wrong? I don’t understand?”

“I’m fuckin’ tired, woman. Go to sleep.”

“I can’t! Not when you’re upset like this- seriously, what’s wrong?”

“You. You’re what’s fuckin’ wrong!”

“What?”

“God, you’re so fucking dense!” He growls, angry voice vibrating against the skin of your neck. “Fuckin’ showin’ up in the mornin’ like nothin’s wrong? Been avoiding me for weeks now!”

“What- no! We literally called last night! What are you talking about?”

“We called for 2 fuckin’ minutes before you fell asleep! And you-” His voice drops suddenly, and then he’s pressing even closer to you, starting up once again. “You piss me the hell off, you know! Sayin’ shit about how you’re gonna do better and then leavin’ for weeks? Not talkin’ to me? What the fuck is that? And then you sneak in here and scare the shit out of me! And you’re running your stupid fucking mouth about the whole day when you’re not even gonna be her-”

Oh. Oh.

He was mad because you’d been busy; because the last time you’d seen him, Bakugou had told he was worried about you, and you blew him off. The last time you’d seen him, you’d promised that you’d take better care of yourself and then you didn’t. All you did was continue working yourself to death, and while you didn’t regret it for even a second, you hadn’t kept him in the loop. You’d barely even managed to call him each night, and even then you’d fall asleep half-way through every conversation.

“Have you been worried this whole time?” You asked quietly.

Bakugou takes a deep, shaky breath, and you can feel his eyelashes flutter against your neck.

“You were worried.” You whisper. “Weren’t you?”

He nods minutely.

“I-I didn’t realize. I told you- but I didn’t realize. I was so focused on school, so busy, I’m so sorry.” You press a kiss into his hair, your heart sinking when his shoulders tremble. “I missed you too.”

“I didn’t fuckin’- I didn’t-”

“I know. I said it. I’m saying it. I’m sorry, Katsu. I missed you.” You sigh, tightening your arms around him. “Is that why you’re not sleeping well?”

Bakugou is silent but he tenses, going completely rigid under your hands. Your stomach drops.

“It’s-I’m good. Really, this time. Everything’s done. I’m completely finished and everything is gonna go back to normal.” You cradle his face, making him look into your eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. We’re good.”

“Are we?”

“What?”

Bakugou shakes your hold, tucking his head until you can’t see his eyes anymore. You can hardly see any of his features, but you see the wobbly line of his mouth. Can feel the shaking of his fingers. When he speaks again, it’s quiet. Barely there.

“Didn’t mean it, last time, when I said your eyebags were ugly. You’re not ugly.”

You blink, hardly able to recall the conversation. Wasn’t that the last time you had visited? Weeks ago? Why was he still thinking about it?

Bakugou huffs again, apparently frustrated by your silence.

“So I’m s-sorry. For insulting you. So now you don’t have to disappear again.”

Your eyes widened.

“You know though, one of these days you’re actually gonna have to start using your nice words- can’t just continue insulting me or I might just disappear forever.”

You remember how upset he’d been when you’d made the joke- how his shoulder’s dropped and his eyebrows caved and his mouth smoothed out into a thin line. Was that really the last time you’d visited? Did he think you were mad at him this whole time?

Guilt flooded you, awful and thick and viscous as it tore through your stomach. You had to make him understand. You just had to.

“No. I- Katsuki. Look at me. Look at me.” You insist until he’s looking at you. His eyes are the dullest you’ve ever seen them- more vulnerable than ever before. “I didn’t- I was just busy, I promise! Not upset. I didn’t mean to ice you out like that. It’s fine! I know you didn’t mean it.”

Katsuki growls, grasping for your hand and hiding his face behind it. “I didn’t- I’m sick of stupid angry shit I say ruinin’ stuff for me. So don’t just fuckin’ say it’s fine if it’s not.”

“It is. I promise. We’re good.” You soothe, caressing his burning cheeks with your knuckle. “That was a bad joke, okay- I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t have said it if I knew it was gonna make you worry so much. I promise I was just busy these last few weeks. Nothing you say is ever gonna get rid of me, alright? Not even if you tried! Because I love you and I-”

“You what?”

You freeze, shifting uncomfortably as your cheeks heated up. This was not how you wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him like you meant it, not just tacked onto the back of a bunch of other statements. He’d heard though, and no matter what you wanted, you couldn’t run from it.

“You what?” He asks again.

“I-I love you. Katsuki, I love you.”

Bakugou jolts, nearly jumps out of his skin and then he’s digging his face into your neck. He’s hot, his skin nearly burning, and there’s a strangled, clipped noise leaving his mouth. You’re filled with so much adoration in that moment that it nearly chokes you, but it’s freeing too, because you’ve said it. Finally. After waiting your entire life for him, after knowing him for so many months, after loving him for so long, he knew.

“I love you.” You repeated again, giggling breathlessly. “I love you, you dummy.”

He finally lifts his head, expression so full of awe and disbelief and childlike confusion. It’s just like the first time you’d really kissed him; like he couldn’t figure out why you loved him. It was like those first few days all over again and you couldn’t help it. You loved him so much.

Grabbing his chin, you pulled him in, guiding until his lips met yours. You felt him smile as you kissed him, and you realized you were wrong. That first real kiss might’ve been nice; but it wasn’t heaven- itwas only the gateway to paradise. But this? This was the real Elysium.

His body moved against yours, so close and warm and pliant. He was letting you set the pace, without resistance or force or argument for the very first time. There had been a lot of past kisses, you had hardly been able to keep yourself off of him, but none of them had never felt like this before. He’d never trusted you like this before. You got to be the one taking and taking and taking where’d you spent so long giving.

It was consummation. Finality. Your perfect ending.

You pull away, panting for breath. He follows, resting on his forearms and dropping his forehead to yours.

“I-I- I love you. Too. Idiot woman.”

You laugh under him, cackling loudly as you turn to press a kiss into his forearms. Of course he’d said it like that. It’s tough love or not at all with Bakugou Katsuki- and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Stop laughing!” He orders, face screwed up uncomfortably. “You’re always fuckin’ laughing at me! You fuckin’ witch! Stop it! It’s- I’m not- I take it back! I don’t- stop makin’ fun of me, shitty wom-”

“Hey, Katsuki?”

“Oh my fucking god! You laugh at me and then you go thinkin’ your just gonna interrupt me while I’m yellin’ at you? No fuckin’ way! I’m not gonna allow that shit in my own fuckin’ house and I-”

“Katsuki.”

“Jesus christ! What?”

“I love you.”

He freezes entirely, collasping his entire weight directly on top of you. He’s so hot it’s like his skin is burning. You wrap your arms around him with a happy giggle, burrowing your own blushing face into his hair.

“I love you.” You whisper, slow and earnest against the shell of his ear. “I really, really, really love you, angry man.”

He startles again, jumps in your arms and only seems to run hotter. He groans something strangled and defeated, until he’s sinking into you again, pressing you against the mattress.

“S-s-stop fuckin’ saying it. You’re doing it on fuckin’ purpose.”

“Doing what?”

“You fuckin’ know, you witch woman.”

“No, I really, really, dont.” You say indulgently, laughing as you drop kisses into his hair. “Care to share?”

“No. Fuck no. I’m fuckin’ done sharing. Forever.”

You rolls your eyes, once again enduring his very familiar dramatics. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Katsuki. I was just happy to hear it- that you love me too.”

“Well, remember it, because I’m never fuckin’ saying it again.”

“Not even if I say it to you?”

“Especially not fucking then.”

“You’re so difficult sometimes, I swear. You’re really lucky I love you so much.” You say softly, before scratching idly at the back of his head. “Now, c’mon. Get off me. I didn’t forget- you need to go to sleep.”

“I’m sleeping here.”

“No you’re not, you man-child. You’re gonna crush me.”

“Good.”

“No, not good. You wanna celebrate your birthday with a murder charge?”

“Yes.”

“Katsuki.” You laugh, pressing against his chest. “Seriously. Up. You’re supposed to use those muscles to save people not kill them.”

He just groans loudly, flopping backwards gracelessly. Katsuki is pulling the blanket up and shutting his eyes, and you think everything is finally okay. Until he clears his throat. Until keeps clearing his throat.

“Oh my god,” You huff, opening your eyes. “What’s wrong now?”

“Say it again, idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid. You know what I’m asking you.”

When you look at him, he’s got his eyes screwed shut, his cheeks red. You thought he was adorable- just the cutest man in all of Japan. You knew what he was asking, of course you did, and if he hadn’t been so upset earlier you would’ve made him work a lot harder for it. As it stood now though, you just scooted closer to him; shifting until you were right next to his blushing face and sharing the same pillow.

“I love you.” You say, running a gentle thumb over his heated cheek. “Now go to sleep, okay?”

You can see the smile he’s fighting, the way his lip twitches and he raises a hand to cover it. Then he’s pulling you close and digging his head into the pillow.

All is quiet, and finally, finally, he gets some sleep.

—/—

Katsuki, on a good day, was an absolute beast to wake up- on a day off however? The man was damn near impossible to stir.

You were squatted next to the bed, trying to pull the pillow out from under his head as he held it in his grip. It was absolutely unfair- even at his groggiest your soulmate had the strength of a one man army. It was seriously pissing you off.

“Are you kidding me right now?” You’re grabbing at his wrist, trying to pry his fingers away from the pillow but he’s not budging. Katsuki’s got his eyes shut tight, and he’s dutifully ignoring your every word. “I’m serious! It’s noon! Get up already!”

He finally peaks one eye open, just barely enough to see your irritated expression. Katsuki huffs, rips his pillow away from you completely, and flops on his other side. His back was to you, and normally you’d be thrilled about the free chance to drool over the planes of muscle- but this wasn’t a normal occasion. It was his birthday and you’d already made him breakfast and he was refusing to get up and eat it.

“Bakugou Katsuki, I swear to god, if you’re not up in two seconds, I’m not gonna kiss you for a fucking week!”

This does seem to illicit a response from him, because then he’s flipping back over, mouth pulled into a snarl.

“You think I care? You starved me out for fuckin’ weeks already!”

You want to roll your eyes. You thought he was being awfully dramatic and you knew you really shouldn’t stand for it- but he wasn’t technically wrong. However inadvertently, you had been neglecting him, and maybe it was time to treat him instead. Just this once.

“Oh my god, you silly man, come here.” You relent, climbing onto the bed and hovering over him. “If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just asked.”

“I-didn’t! When the fuck did I say that because I-”

You pressed your lips to his, effectively shutting him up. It was a trick you’d learned early on, but damn if it wasn’t still useful. You pulled away right when he started to get handsy.

“No. Bad.” You say, batting his hands away from slipping under your shirt. “I didn’t just waste all that time trying to get you out of bed just to be pulled in. Now, c’mon, you have breakfast to eat and presents to open- it’s your big day, birthday boy.”

“Fuckin’ exactly. Let me do what I want.”

“No, because if I let you do what you wanted you’d sleep all day and only wake to go blow something up.”

“Sounds like fucking bliss.”

“Alright, well then I guess you’re gonna have to experience nirvana all by yourself because I’m going to eat.” You pat his chest, climbing off the bed and standing straight.

Bakugou grumbles under his breath, but then the blankets are rustling and he’s rising to follow you out the door. He tears into the breakfast you’d made him, shoveling eggs and bacon and pancakes down his throat at an almost inhuman pace. You would cringe, but you’d seen this scene already many times before.

“You ready for presents, now?” You ask, putting the dishes in the sink.

“Sure. ‘m not a fuckin’ kid though, you didn’t have t-”

“I wanted to. Seriously. So be quiet and be a little selfish for once. Please.”

He nods tightly, following you into the living room. He’s settling on the couch, once again rubbing at his eyes when you bring the gifts over. There’s three of them in total and he chooses to open the smallest one first.

“Fuck- this a new watch?”

“Yep.” You nod. “To replace the one you blew up last month.”

“When the- how the hell did you-”

“I have my ways. Now, seriously, promise me you’re gonna be careful with this one.”

“Okay.”

“Katsuki, that’s not a promise.”

“I’m not gonna just fuckin-”

“Say it.”

“No! Why the hell should I have to fuckin’ say shit just because you were spyin’ on me, you freak!”

“Katsuki.” You glare him down. “Promise me.”

“Jesus fuck, woman. Fine. I promise I won’t blast this one to pieces, alright?” He rolls his eyes. “Ya all happy and cheery now?”

“Very.” You smile brightly, moving to grab the second gift and place it in his hands. “Here’s the next one, open it.”

You watched him set the watch aside carefully, before taking the second gift. He might’ve been grumbling, but he couldn’t completely hide the smile trying to stretch across his face. You were glad you made the effort- he deserved every good thing and more.

“This is a jar.” He says flatly, looking down at the unwrapped gift. “What the hell?”

“It’s a swear jar. You know, for practicing how not to offend everyone within a .2 mile radius.” You deapan, taking the excess wrapping paper from him to throw it out. “You gotta work on it, Katsu- news has to censor you so much that your public appearances sound like EDM music.”

“I’m gonna blow this up.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

“No. You’re not.” You laugh. Then you lean towards him, sidling up close and lowering your voice as you run thumb across his jaw. “And, hey, if you figure out how to make it through the week without filling it up, I’ll give you something really, really nice as a reward.”

“Reward?” He’s asks, quickly putting down the jar. You know the look in his eyes, and you’re not surprised when his hands wander to your waist. “’s empty now, right? Think I fuckin’ deserve it. Huh, sunshine?”

“Nope. Sorry, Katsu.” You smile sweetly, dodging as he leans in for a kiss. “It’s saturday- week doesn’t start until tomorrow!”

He groans, loudly, falling boneless against the couch and tugging you with him.

“You make me want to blow my fuckin’ self up. You know that, you shitty woman?”

“Aw, thanks. Now, cheer up- you’ve still got one left to open.” You say, patting his grimacing face.

You shake his hold, just barely avoiding when he tries to pull you back as you grab the last present. This box is a little different from the last two, you’d spent extra time trying to make sure it was wrapped nicely and you’d even tied a ribbon around it. You hoped he’d like the gauntlet attachment- you didn’t think you’d be able to hide your disappointment if he didn’t.

“Yeah, so this next one,” You start, placing the box in his hand delicately. “I made it for you myself. Designed it too.”

He pulls the ribbon on the box, tearing away the paper. It’s like time stops for a moment, rolling nerves arresting you and choking your breath. You’re nervous and you feel like shaking and you so desperately want him to like the gift. Want him understand just how much work you’d put in for him and just how easily you’d do it all over again.

“Yeah so it’s an attachment for your grenade gauntlets, right?” You start, right when he’s pulling the device from the box and holding it in his hands. “I was thinking- wouldn’t it be nice if you could quiet your explosions sometimes? You know, for when you’re saving civilians and kids and stuff so they’re not so scared. Basically it works kind of similar to a suppressor on a gun, dispersing and slowing down the blast just a little to muffle the sound, but it’s just a little more high-tech and way more powerful- to match your quirk. Obviously. And it’s adjustable so, if, for whatever reason, you needed to wear it outside of your costume, you can collapse it slip it on like a bracelet and-”

Bakugou is silent. He’s almost frozen as he stares down at the gift, only twisting the gift around in his hands to get a better look. His eyebrows crease, and your stomach drops.

“No- it’s- please don’t get mad! It’s not supposed to offend you or anything! I-I know you don’t need my help to save people, you can do it all on your own, I know that.” You rub your arm anxiously, eyes averted to the floor. “I’m just trying to help- you know, because you always talk about your ratings going up, and I’m sure you could totally do it on your own, I know you could, but I just wanted to help you cause that’s what I do, support, and I can’t help you out on the field and I-”

Pop.

Pop pop pop pop pop

When you finally look up at him, you’re blinded by the smile on his face. It’s bright, and beaming, and brilliant as he fires off explosions. You can see the light dancing on his hands, the force of combustion shooting his arm back, but it’s quiet. It sounds like pop rocks and bacon grease and popcorn instead of cracking thunder and collapsing buildings and then he’s laughing- he’s laughing something full and joyful as he stands, holding his hands up right next to his ears and setting off more explosions.

“You hear this shit?” He yells, that wide smile dazzling you all over again. “Fuckin’ works!”

The nerves disappeared, the tension seeping from your body entirely as he grinned at you. It was worth it. Entirely worth it- you’d give anything, start all over and do it all again from the start just to see that smile.

“You wanna hear?” He asks suddenly, nearing you with his hands raised. “Listen!”

“No! No- I’m- I’m good, Katsuki.” You laugh, batting his hands away from your head. “I can hear it just fine from here, no need to singe my hair.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“I know.” You smile up at him, poking his broad chest. “So you like it? Right? Because it’s just a prototype, first draft, you know, so if there’s anything you want to change about it, let me know. Or if you just don’t want it I-”

“I’m fuckin’ keepin’ it.”

“Huh?”

“I’m keepin’ it. It’s cool as shit.” He smiles down at you, eyes crinkled at the edges. “Besides, stealth, right? Could blow a fucker up in the next room and you wouldn’t even know it!”

“But I- I made them for you to save people? Like to help them?”

“And they could be used to blow shit up more effectively too. Win fucking win.” Katsuki pulls you in suddenly, arms falling familiarly around your waist. “Good shit, sunshine. Thanks.”

“Of course.” You sigh, looking down at your feet. “That’s what I was doing- when I was gone. Designing it for my project grade and then building it for you. Sorry I got so carried away, I didn’t realize I was gone so long, you know?”

“You’re still stupid for it, but it’s fine. Fuckin’ get it.” He grumbles. “You’re done now or whatever, right?”

“With school? Yeah I mean, I’ve still got graduation and stuff but otherwise I’m pretty much-

“Move in with me.”

“Huh?”

“God, you always make me fuckin’ say it again!” He flusters, voice loud and raspy. “I said- move in! Here! You’re fuckin’ disappearin’ all the goddamn time to wherever the fuck and I’m sick of it!”

“Y-you want me to move in?

“That’s what I just fuckin’ said! Idiot!” He thunders, face a violent red when you look up at him. “And I’m not gonna fuckin’ say it again so you either have to say yes or no because I-”

“Yes. Obviously. Of course I’ll move in!” You say, warmth filling your chest as you throw your arms around his neck. “I love you, of course I will!”

You see the smile he can’t contain- one so dazzling and arresting, as he looks at you. One exactly similar to the brilliant one from earlier. You couldn’t believe that sentiment made you emotional- the thought that you made him just as happy as explosions did, of all things. But it did make you emotional. It really, really, did.

“What’re you- stop cryin’.” He says suddenly, calloused fingers catching your tears. “Why’re you cryin’? I didn’t even say anythin’ rude this time!”

“No, it’s not that.” You sniffle, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “I’m just happy. Really, really happy. I love you, you angry fucking man.”

Katsuki leans in for another kiss, and you don’t dodge it this time. You meet him in the middle and melt into him just as much as he melts into you. You can feel his hand under your chin, the other on your back, and you don’t think you’ve ever been warmer than in that moment.

You’d been waiting your entire life for him. For all of this. You were warm and loved and so very, very happy that it nearly knocked you off your feet.

Or it would’ve- but when your knees weakened he just held you closer, righting you without missing a beat. You suddenly loved him for that, and for everything else too. You loved him for all that he was and his angry words and his subtle gestures. He was sizzling gunpowder and sharp steel and seared ashes, but he was the softest landing you’d ever known too. There was no hitting the ground with him, and he’d never let you fall alone.

You’d know Katsuki was forever since the day your tattoo appeared, but it didn’t truly sink in until you’d learned to love him. Until you’d known him. Now you knew him like the back of your hand; you saw his face behind your eyelids, heard his voice in your dreams, and thought about his touch every waking moment. He was your other-half, as scary and loud and intense as he was, and you wouldn’t change a single thing about him.

He pulls away suddenly, and when you glance up at him he’s staring right at you.

“I love you.”

Your breath catches. You thought you were thrilled to hear the words last night- but it was nothing in comparison to now. Bakugou was finally looking at you, catching your gaze and holding eye-contact and his voice was soft like you’d never heard it before. His tone was bare, no anger or attitude or bite- just him and three little words that took your breath away.

In that moment, Katsuki is the only person in the entire world. There was no one else and no other conclusion, and of course you ended up here. He was the only ending you’d ever surrender to. The only finality that could ever possibly taste so sweet.

And suddenly, all at once, you loved him all over again.

//-//

i- sob. plS this was so much fun to write and im gonna miss it sm !!

once again, thank u to everyone who liked and commented and reblogged any part of this! this is the first ever multi-chapter fanfic i’ve ever written , and i really really was nervous about my characterization and writing and stuff, but you all made me feel so welcome here. i appreciate it sm. way more than any of you know.

anyways, thank u once again for reading lovelies and i hope u all stay safe. i love y’all. <333

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