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ohfrickfanfic · 5 years

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Reunited And It Feels So Good

Pairing: Jordan x Reader

Warnings/Tags: car sex, mild biting, squirting

‘I can’t believe it's already been five years since graduation,’ you think to yourself, putting on the final touches of your makeup before leaving for your class reunion. ‘I can’t wait to see how much everyone's changed…. Oooh! I wonder if Jordan’s going.’

You met Jordan your sophomore year in chemistry class; he was your assigned lab partner and you quickly fell head over heels for his sweet-natured demeanor and gorgeous mop of dark brown curls. There was only one problem, you were already dating the quarterback of the football team.

Your boyfriend was clearly attractive — one of the most popular guys in school -- and you honestly had no idea what he saw in you. He was out of your league. Everyone either wanted to be him or be with him, but for some reason he chose you. It was exciting at first and you quickly climbed the popularity ladder, but if you were honest with yourself, you never developed any feelings for him and often found yourself longing for Jordan.

When you look back on it now, you feel so stupid for not calling it quits with Mr. Popularity sooner and then going after Jordan. You were young, dumb, and naïve, and truthfully you loved the attention and your newfound ‘status’ among your peers due to your relationship.

A few months after graduation, when the popularity contest of high school was finally over, your relationship lost its appeal you broke it off. But by then you had lost contact with Jordan; you never did keep in touch outside of classes together, so you’re really hoping to see him tonight.

When you arrive at the venue, you’re greeted with shiny mylar balloons in the shape of the number five, and cliché reunion songs: ‘reunited and it feels so good’ currently playing through the sound system. You quickly begin scanning the room for Jordan. Everyone's dressed to the nines in dapper tuxes and strappy dresses; perfect for the venue’s elegant vibe. You encounter many familiar faces as you search the crowd. A few people try and talk to you, but you just brush them off in search of Jordan.

After several minutes of searching, you lose hope. Feeling defeated, you take a seat at the far end of the bar and order yourself a drink. Just as the first sip of your cocktail warms your throat you hear a familiar voice, causing you to spin around.

“Y/N?”

“Oh my God, Jordan!” you exclaim as you stand, pulling him in for a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too. Wow, you look amazing,” he says, taking a step back to give you a look over. You can feel your cheeks redden under his gaze.

“Same goes for yourself; look at you!” You give his shoulder a flirtatious push.

“How’ve you been?” he asks, beginning to take the empty seat next to you. “Oh, I should have asked, is anyone sitting here?”

“No, not at all. Please sit, sit,” you encourage, tapping the chair as you sit back down as well.

“So, did you come alone then?” he asks as he removes his suit jacket, hanging it over the backrest.

“Yup, single and ready to mingle,” you joke. “How about you?”

“Same actually… I gotta be honest though, I was half expecting you to have kids and be married to ‘whatshisname’.”

“Haahaha, nope. No kids. Never been married,” you laugh. “We actually broke up pretty much right after graduation.”

“Ya know, I was always so insanely jealous of him in high school,” Jordan admits.

“Yeah, you and everyone else — Mr. Popularity,” you add with an eye-roll.

“Except for me, it wasn’t about his popularity.”

“It wasn’t?” Then what was it about?” you ask looking confused, then picking up your cocktail to have a sip.

“You’re really gonna make me say it huh?” he blushes. “You, silly. It was about you,” Jordan states making you sputter your drink back into your glass.

You quickly wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Excuse me!?” you say, both apologizing for your actions and asking if you heard him correctly.

Yeah, I had a huge crush on you,” he confirms with a laugh, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

“I would say that’s the alcohol talking, but you haven’t even ordered yet,” you joke as your pulse quickens. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Are you crazy? I felt blessed that you gave me the time of day in Chemistry. I knew you were out of my league, plus, you were dating Mr. Bigshot star quarterback.”

His words made guilt rise in your stomach, you can’t believe you came off that shallow back then.

“But Jordan, I had a huge crush on you too!”

“And I would say that’s the alcohol talking too, but you spit most of that back into your glass,” Jordan laughs. “Now you’re just fucking with me.”

“I’m not. I’m serious, Jordan. I was even hoping to run into you here tonight,” you say, reaching out to rest your hand on his arm.

“What?” Jordan chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “Then why didn’t you just —”

“What, break up with him and ask you out? You finish his thought. “’cause I was an idiot and apparently my popularity was more important than my happiness. I’ve regretted it since.”

“Wow,” Jordan huffs out in shock, running his hand through his dark curls. “I-” he starts before being cut off by an approaching old classmate calling his name. Jordan makes small talk with him for a few minutes while you sip your drink, waiting patiently for them finish.

“Sorry about that, I don’t even remember what I was about to say now,” Jordan says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “But umm - I hope this isn’t too forward, and I know there are probably other people you wanna reconnect with tonight, but do you by any chance wanna get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you answer with a sultry smirk.

“Oh... um...okay. I was not expecting you to agree to that. Let’s – uhh, let’s go,” Jordan says in a surprised tone, reaching for your hand and pulling you from the barstool. He grabs his suit jacket off the back of the chair, then tugs you through a sea of old acquaintances and classmates heading towards the exits. Once in the parking lot, Jordan pulls a key fob out his suit jacket pocket and presses the unlock button, illuminating the car's lights.

“Holy shit, you have a fucking Tesla?” you exclaim, as Jordan opens the passenger side door for you.

“Not exactly,” Jordan admits before closing your door. He circles around to the driver’s side and climbs in. “It’s my brother’s. He’s letting me borrow it while he’s on tour.”

“Wait, Josh? Right?” you ask, remembering his older brother.

“You remember?” he smiles. “Yeah he’s a famous musician now; traveling the globe.”

“Wow, that’s awesome! Good for him.”

With that conversation now wrapped up, the air in the car goes uncomfortably silent; the mood switching from that of catching up with an old friend to an awkward first date now that you both realize you’re alone together.

“So… ummm… what do you wanna do now?” Jordan says, breaking the silence.

“I have a few ideas,” you suggest bravely, walking your fingers up Jordan’s chest and tugging on his tie.

“Oh yeah,” he smirks. “Like what?”

“Like, you,” you say, pulling his upper half over by his tie and over the center console towards you.

“R-really?” he chokes out, his mouth centimeters from your own.

“Really, really,” you laugh.

With a flick of your tongue against his lip,s you coax open his mouth, his tongue meeting yours in the middle. Your bodies scramble over the console and into the back seat as the kissing intensifies; his hands roaming your body and your needy moans filling each other’s mouths.

“I can take you somewhere nice,” Jordan says with hitched breath, breaking the kiss and looking up at you where you’re now perched in his lap in the back seat: one knee resting on the side of each of his thighs, your bare core barely concealed by the bunched fabric of your dress.

“Here is fine.” You pause briefly to plunge your tongue back into his mouth, “I’ve waited for this long enough,” you add, slipping his tie over his head and then reconnecting your mouths once again as you begin to unbutton his shirt.

About halfway down his shirt, you pull a little too roughly and cause a button to pop off and rocket across the car. “Mmm, hope you weren’t renting this suit,” you laugh breathily against his flesh, moving your kisses to his neck and rotating your hips in his lap as Jordan shrugs off the button down.

“Uhmm,” he moans loudly, raising his hips to meet yours and lolling his head to the left against the window. “It’s - uhhh- it’s actually J-Josh’s too.” His breath fogs up the glass and he huffs out another breath. His hands caress your back as you mark him up before they settle on the small zipper between your shoulder blades on the fabric of your dress. He takes the tiny piece of metal between his thumb and forefinger, tugging it down your spine to the zipper stop.

“Off!” you demand, sitting up to yank on his belt, then standing the best you can, hunched over in the confines of the car, to shimmy off your dress.

“Oh shit!” Jordan marvels at your body as he fumbles with his belt; button and zipper to follow. He plunges his pants and boxers down his thighs in one fluid motion, his hard cock pressed against his stomach. Your eyes go wide at his size, you were hardly expecting that from his ‘boy next door’ persona. Jordan takes notice. “Big enough for ya?” he teases smugly, his face plastered with a smirk as he strokes himself.

“Oh fuck, give that to me!” you exclaim, pulling off your heels and clambering back into his lap, a foot on either side. Quickly, you replace his hand with your own, gripping him tightly and guiding him to your entrance. You let out a whine as you sink down on his length, relishing in the satisfying stretch and pleasurable fullness inside of you. “Jordan!” you cry out in ecstasy, tangling your fingers in the dark ringlets at the base of his neck as you bottom out to the hilt.

“Mmmm” he grips your waist pulling you against him. “I never thought I —- ummgh, never thought I’d get to hear you say my name like that,” He whispers in your ear, teeth delicately nibbling at the lobe before descending to your neck.

“Uhhh, yeah, you like that?” you tease as you ride him.

“Y-ahhhh,” he huffs against the freshly made plum markings that decorate your flesh. “Say it again.”

“Uhhhh, Jordan. Jorrr-dannn,” you begin to chant as you pick up speed, reaching up to palm the glass roof for balance. “Oh god, I’m so close.”

“Not yet,” Jordan says, pushing you off of him. “Wanna take you from behind.”

You quickly shift positions; Jordan bending you over the center console between the two front seats. With one hand on the bottom cushion of each seat, you try your hardest not to claw at the leather as Jordan re-enters you.

“Mmmm you’re fucking soaked,” Jordan groans as he thrusts. His hands grip your hips, pulling you back against him just as hard as he’s driving his hips forward, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you.

“Uhh, yes! Fuck my wet fucking pussy, Jordan. Mhmmmm feels so good,” you grit through your teeth, a familiar warmth already rekindling in your abdomen.

His pace is relentless, his aim spot on. Your orgasm is quickly building; you can tell it’s going to be a good one — going to be intense.

“Jordan I’m gonna —- I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” you repeat, caught off guard by the gush of fluid splashing from your entrance and dripping down your thighs.

“Oh, fuck that’s so hott!” Jordan tightens his grasp on your hips, releasing inside you.

The rest of your night together is spent at the local 24-hour self-service car wash, flirting and laughing while shampooing the Tesla’s carpets.

********************************

When Jordan picks up Josh from the airport a few days later, he notices right away. “Dude, did you get the carpets shampooed? He questions, reaching down to feel them. “Ok, what did you do?” he scolds knowingly.

“Uh... umm yeah — Jim- Jim got sick,” Jordan lies. Jim picks his head up from where he lays on the back seat, at the mention of his name, cocking his head to the side. “Didn’t cha boy? Oh yes, you did,” Jordan speaks in a high-pitched baby voice, reaching into the back to ruffle Jim’s fur.

“Awww my poor little dude,” Josh’s tone matches Jordan’s.

***********************

“Dude, what’s with you and the turtlenecks lately?” Josh questions walking into the kitchen, as he buttons his shirt, fresh out of the shower. “You’ve been wearing one ever since you picked me up at the airport like three days ago — where the hell did this button go?” he says, abruptly changing the subject. “You wouldn’t know anything about this, would you? I know you wear my clothes when I’m gone.”

“I — um, wore it to my high school reunion last week, but uh — it was fine then. Must have fallen off in the wash,” Jordan shrugs.

“The wash huh?” Josh eyes him suspiciously, walking closer to where Jordan’s eating breakfast at the table. He feigns traveling past him towards the cereal but doubles back at the last second, abruptly grabbing the collar on Jordan’s turtleneck and tugging it down, exposing various sized purple markings. “The wash do that too, you fricken dork?” he laughs, playfully shoving his brothers head as he walks away. “That must have been some reunion,” Josh teases, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. “You gotta tell me all about it on the way to pick up Debby after breakfast.”

“No, I don’t,” Jordan mumbles with a mouth full of cereal.

*************************

“So it was someone we went to school with obviously. Do I know her?” Josh pries as they buckle up.

“I already told you I’m not telling you about it.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun, fine!” Josh pouts, then looks up to open the sunroof. “Jordannn?... Is that a handprint on my roof? Did you - did you —” he pauses when Jordan’s hands fly up to cover his blushing face. “Oh my god, you did. You fucked her in my car!”

“Maybe…” Jordan squeaks out from behind his hands.

“Dammit, Jordan! This is why I can’t have nice things.”

#jordan dun #jordan x reader #jordan dun fanfiction #jordan dun x reader #jordan dun smut

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ua-monoma · 6 years

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PHANTOM THIEF vs KACCHAN

@ua-katsuki

Katsuki isn't in a good mood as he leaves the hospital. In fact, he would hardly consider himself in a mood at all — the world around him remains dim and lifeless and he finds himself feeling lightheaded. His fingers continue to curl an uncurl tightly in his pockets as he works to keep a constant motion going, anything to keep himself grounded.

It's almost curfew by the time he makes it back to U.A., as he would want it to be; missing curfew, especially with all that's been going on lately, wouldn't be a very smart decision to make at all. Monoma's thoughts had been... escaping him, lately. He didn't really know how else to call it. He was almost sure he was upset, but it was distant, almost forgotten, like the way a dream slips away just as you awaken in the morning.

The messages didn't help. But, of course, the messages never helped. He still doesn't even know why he bothers associating with people anymore, if this was what was gonna happen every time...

Absentmindedly, he walks from the cafeteria towards the dorms. Really, he's deciding whether or not he wants to try and sneak into Iida's room before curfew starts, since Iida-kun wasn't as fond of breaking them as he was. He's drifting in that direction as he goes over his choices when he notices- oh.

Bakugou.

Monoma frowns to himself, hesitating. His first instinct is to turn on his heel and go straight back to his own dorm with his tail between his legs, but... It's been weeks now. He knows Bakugou isn't exactly known for his forgiveness, but... it's been weeks...

Hesitantly, he wanders over, giving Bakugou a tiny tap on the shoulder.... not really knowing what to say. Katsuki nearly jumps as he's touched, startled out of whatever thoughts he'd been consumed in a moment ago. Seeing that it's Monoma, he suddenly snatches his arm away and gives him a dead stare.

How is he supposed to react? What is he supposed to say? This is Monoma, the person who's kissed his boyfriend and make him question his worth... but also the same person who both listened to Katsuki's inner turmoil and told him about his own.

No. This is different. Today is different. Katsuki can't feel anything today, can't do anything. It's like he isn't even in his own body anymore, like someone else has taken control of him and he's just an outsider spectating these events.

None of this feels real.

Regardless, Katsuki still needs to respond. "What," he says at last, his voice low, "do you want." And, as he says it, he can't even identify his own tone. Is it malice? Is it irritation? Is it uncertainty?

He should be able to know. Monoma flinches, pulling his hand back fast as he watches Bakugou jolt and pull away. He could already tell he's made a mistake. One too many mistakes.

"... Uh," he utters, his face going pale. He glances away for a moment, frowning at the darkening sky, before he glances down at the ground. "I was gonna ask how you were, haha-" he forces out. "But, um, maybe now's not a good time, so maybe I'll just go-?" Katsuki frowns and stares at him a moment. Something... Something... I want to feel something....

Out loud, he scoffs. "Shit keep happening," he says. The understatement of the year. "The usual. I just got back from the hospital." Narrowing his eyes at Monoma, he asks, "What are you doing here?" Monoma blinks rapidly before he frowns. "Hospital...?" he asks slowly, warily, the dread welling up in his throat like bile. He was so sick of hearing about hospitals. Who was there now? Another one of his friends? Another member of someone's family?

"Um." Honesty? A quick lie? His frown only deepens. "I just was.. sneaking over to 1-A, to be honest." He manages a weak chuckle, smoothing the back of his hair out nervously. "But maybe tonight's not the best night, aha--" The corner of Katsuki's mouth twitches slightly as he attempts to manage a smirk, but that satisfaction doesn't come. He examines Monoma's expression silently, searching, searching... What could he possibly be thinking.

Katsuki's foot slides against the dirt and he begins moving it impatiently, tapping it against the ground and then kicking at some small pebbles. His hands curl into fists in his pocket. Something. Something.

"No," he says, "not the best night. With all the extra precautions set it place it's probably not best to be sneaking around like that."

He glares down at the ground. This is wrong. This isn't real. Everything he's saying... everything. It feels artificial. Not him. Not him. Monoma only shrugs a little helplessly. "Maybe they shouldn't make it so easy to sneak around, then," he says, though he winces the second the words leave his mouth. It's in bad taste. It leaves a bad taste. Guilt surges up in him, even though he hasn't done anything wrong.

Not yet, anyway. Not that anyone else knows of, at least.

"... anyway, it's late. Or, getting late. With the curfew, now, I mean, 'cause it's really really early. So, uh." He shifts where he stands. "I'll just go back then. But I'll see you around...?" Katsuki rolls his shoulders as he considers his next course of action, already having made up his mind about what he wants to do but wondering if it's worth the risk in the end. I've done this before, he thinks, but that time was different. It meant something else entirely.

And yet... He pulls his hands from his pockets and stares at his palms, the lines etched into his skin. This emptiness he feels, he wants to replace it. He wants it to go away. He doesn't want to be helpless anymore. He doesn't want to be weak.

"Hey, wait." Katsuki lifts his head, meeting Monoma's eyes. "There's one thing I need you to do for me." He steps forward. "Let's fight." "...Eh?"

Monoma only takes a step back at that, hands up in the air immediately in surrender. "F-fight? Wh-why would you wanna do something like that!?--"

A stupid question. Another stupid thing falling out of his mouth. Of course he knows why. He could almost feel Midoriya's lips against his own all over again at the thought. Stammering, he continues. "You-- we're just gonna get into trouble if we- Especially with everything that's going on, ah, Bakugou... I... I'd really rather if we didn't--" "Hah." Katsuki would laugh at his reaction if he had the energy. Instead, he looks at Monoma quite seriously as he says, "You know... That damn nerd told me almost the exact same thing. Ironic, don't you think?"

Then he snorts. "I'm not doing this because of....you know. At least, that's not the main reason." Cracking his knuckles, he takes another step forward to compensate for the distance Monoma has put between them. "I'm doing this because everything is shitty and I'm going to lose my mind if I have to deal with anything else. Don't you get it?"

After a moment, he adds, "Yes, and that too. You can't tell me you haven't had it coming for a while, after what you did. Be honest." Oh.

Monoma's hands lower, sonething deep inside his chest twisting with conflict. Midoriya-kun had done the same...? ... What was he supposed to do with that information? How was he supposed to feel?

... He felt envious. He always has. Of Katsuki, of Izuku, of their bond. He's been shoving it away, but... the way he keeps getting trapped in the middle of those two was...

He frowns, then clicks his tongue a little. "Yeah. I do." He scowls distantly. "I deserve everything you throw at me."

"..."

He shifts a little in a vague attempt to ready a stance. "This isn't exactly going to be a fair fight," he murmurs with a grimace that looks a little too close to a sneer. "Something tells me you're not going to go easy on me." "Why would I? I'm not gonna hold back and I expect you to do the same, so you'd better come at me with everything you've got, you hear me?" Then, without speaking, he turns away. "Come on. Let's go so we're not out in the open."

Truthfully, what had happened between Monoma and Izuku has a lot more to do with it than Katsuki would ever care to admit — especially taking into consideration how quiet Izuku has been since then, not really talking to him at all...

Katsuki grimaces. No. This is about everything else, too, that's been going on. About Mystery and about how his mother had been taken away from him. Not once, but twice, both times when he could've been there to do something but wasn't and didn't.

Seriously. How could anyone be so worthless?

"I'm not waiting for you," says Katsuki, not one to miss Monoma's current state of hesitation. "... Tch."

Monoma lets out an apprehensive huff, feeling a little stupid for thinking they were going to start right here, right now, though he's happy for the delay. Maybe he could convince him what a bad idea this was. "Can we at least move it off the campus...? Y'know, where we won't get caught? I'd rather be caught sneaking in than caught fighting. Unlike you, I don't intend on having the entire school gossip about how foolish this is."

He thinks frantically to their first interaction. The first time they fought. The confidence he'd had. Where had it gone? It was still in him somewhere, wasn't it? When did he change so much? When had Bakugou?

It all escalated. It was all spiraling out of control and he hates it.

Following after Katsuki no matter where he decided to go, Monoma just frowns at the ground before mustering a shaky smile. "At least we'll both be the talk of the town... wait 'til everyone finds out that I beat you at your own game, hahahah..." "Don't sound so confident when you say that, asshole," Katsuki grumbles in response, a headache pounding against his temples. Gently, he reaches up to brush his fingers against his forehead. "And I'm not stupid. We're gonna go somewhere where no one can see us."

He doesn't glance back to make sure Monoma's following him, and he doesn't need to — he knows he is. No matter what, he knows Monoma won't be able to resist, won't run away. Monoma technically owes it to him, after all.

Katsuki briefly thinks back to his mother and Deku's mother, who are both in the hospital due to his negligence. He'd failed to do the very thing he promised he would, failed to be strong when others needed it — even though the last thing he wanted was to be involved in this, he still...

Finally, he stops. They're still technically on campus, but far enough away from the main buildings that someone would need to take a several minute walk in order to so much as hear them. Better to do this on school grounds where U.A. authority will handle it rather than outside school grounds, where it would be a police matter for them to use their quirks in public.

"Now," he says, and turns to face Monoma. His expression is blank, unreadable. "I'm gonna do my best to make sure you don't touch me. How much can you do when you're not using your quirk?" Unlike Bakugou, Monoma's dread betrays itself on his face in the form of a stricken smile, stretched a little too wide to be anything but violently off. He was screwed. Maybe if he had his costume he could compensate, but- like this... With the power he knows Bakugou has...

Letting out an unsteady little giggle, Monoma shrugs his shoulders, pushing his hair away from his eyes. "Who can say...?" he replies vaguely before giving Katsuki a little gesture, quirking a finger forward like he's beckoning him in. "C'mon." Katsuki moves forward slowly at first, one small step after another, before he breaks into a run and charges at Monoma, one arm raised with the palm glowing. He knows getting close is a risk, yes, taking Monoma's quirk into consideration, but he isn't an idiot.

"You'd better give me everything you have!" he shouts, and blast himself in the air — an additional explosion aimed downward at Monoma. He smirks, finally, finally feeling something since the most recent incident.

The thrill. Monoma's face blanches as soon as the first blast soars through the air.

"Damn ittttt!"

He dodges, though just barely, literally throwing himself out of the way and hitting the ground so hard it nearly knocks the wind out of him already. Oh, he hates this.

The location he's chosen was a disadvantage as well, nothing useful close by for him to grab or throw or use for anything. His only option was to distance himself from Katsuki while he could, so he can think of a plan somehow.

"This sucks, this sucks, this sucks," he's blurting as he rolls and scrambles forward on the ground, somehow managing to stumble to his feet and and run off, as fast as he could. Katsuki scowls, landing neatly on the ground and blasting himself towards Monoma. Don't run don't run don't run— "Put up an actual fight, you bastard!" he shouts after him. "What did I tell you about going all out, hah?"

It doesn't take him long to catch up to Monoma, and he launches yet another blast from several feet away, directly at his back. He watches with sick satisfaction as this shot hits it's target and he smirks, making sure to get closer while also keeping enough distance between them for him to move away should Monoma try to touch him.

"Figures," he sneers, his fingers curling at his sides. "Don't be so pathetic! Show me that you're worth my time, asshole!" Monoma lets out a short cry as he's struck down. He hits the ground hard, skidding messily to a stop, pain flaring up as his back smokes from the impact.

He doesn't move, for a good few seconds, hearing him approach as he tries to catch his breath. He hates pain. Pain sucks. Being isolated from his power sucks. He feels weak. Helpless. Quirkless, like he's constantly mocked for being. Glaring up at Bakugou through his hair, he could see him looming above him, like he always does. The Number One of the Festival, the star of 1-A. High above him, where he would never reach. As unattainable as the sun was to man.

His jaw clenches, nails digging into the ground. "I'm obviously not," he grits out shakily. "If you wanted a good fight, maybe you shouldn't have picked someone on the bottom-rung. Or maybe you should just admit that all you want is a punching bag." "You damn liar," Katsuki says, narrowing his eyes. His entire body is numb, tingling, but he doesn't care. Get up and fight get up and fight get up get up get up—

"You're not a punching bag, so stop acting like one! If you can't touch me to get my quirk then you should try anyway! Stop" — he he brings his foot down on Monoma's back knowing it's a risk this is a risk but he doesn't care he can't feel anything, hard enough to hurt — "acting" — he applies pressure, his lips curling into a snarl — "pathetic."

If Deku was able to make it this far, even though he was quirkless, Katsuki thinks, then you should damn well be able too, as well.

Monoma only lets out a grunt at that, breath shoved out of him. He's dazed, feeling the pressure grinding against him, crushing the air from his lungs.

It hurt.

It had been the same with Todoroki, hadn't it? Allowing himself just a moment of pain to take everything they had to offer.

It was so irritating. So annoying. This stupid method. This last resort he was constantly pushed towards. Later, he'd have to work on this. His speed, his tolerance for pain. For now, he only turns his head towards Bakugou, meeting his eyes, searching his face.

"Stop being so easy to manipulate," he replies and raises his arm, craning it back in an awkward, twisted angle so that he could aim for his face- and then he lets out as big of a blast as he could, barely even caring for the painful strain that snaps through his muscles as a massive explosion explodes from his palms. He just wants Katsuki off him. Katsuki expects the blast. He'd walked into this himself. Still, he winds up being blown backward, falling and then hitting the ground. He slowly gets to his feet, breathing heavily.

His own quirk being used against him... He smirks. Finally. Finally. He stares at Monoma, who's just a blurry image in front of him. He narrows his eyes, trying to focus, but it only distorts the image more.

He doesn't care.

"Hah," he breathes, momentarily touching his singed clothes. Good. Good. This fight just might become interesting. "Not bad. But you get it, don't you? How it hurts you when you use it too much? Nice surprise, huh?"

He doesn't wait for an answer. Grimacing, he charges at Monoma. It's distracting, but he's sure he could deal with it for now. Rolling his aching shoulder back, he pushes himself up, thoughts wild and scattered for a moment from the adrenaline.

Five minutes.

But if he can make the fight last longer than that--

Bakugou charges forward and Monoma shakes his head and leaps back, offering a few short blasts as he hops a few feet away, and then another few feet. He wants distance. He wants to drag it out. He wants Bakugou tired in a way that'd let him drop out within either of them having to get hurt. Monoma knows he's not going to get what he wants, this time, but it's all he can think to do at first. "You coward!" Katsuki says, practically screams, his lungs aching from the volume at which he says those words — are the effort it takes for him to breathe, to keep himself upright.

He isn't even that injured, so why—?

Am I really that weak? That pathetic?

These thoughts are loud, persistent, and all Katsuki can do to counter it is shout, shout, shout, wanting to drown out these thoughts and everything they imply.

"Die!" he says, his head pounding. He moves in closer, closer still, and raises an arm. "Die!" And, gaining distance, he grabs Monoma by the sleeves of his shirt and feebly tosses him to the ground, bringing his foot down again — this time on his chest. Not even close enough to bring him down, but Katsuki's brain is working on overdrive.

He brings his foot up to kick Monoma in the face instead. Again, not nearly enough to bring him down. He definitely doesn't feel like he's at full strength, that anything he does will make a difference. This was supposed to help, dammit! He glares at Monoma. Why isn't it doing anything? Monoma swears under his breath, hearing that chilling scream rip from Bakugou's throat. All at once, he suddenly feels a real threat. A real danger. Katsuki is unstable, and he doesn't want anything to do with this. He wants to help him, but all this is doing is getting them both hurt, isn't it!?--

He tries to block it as best he can, but he's still thrown to the ground again. Katsuki's foot is brought down onto him again.

His clock resets. Five, again.

Monoma scrabbles at his legs, clawing up them, trying to get a grip-- and then he's kicked, and he loses it, yelping as his hands slap to his face.

Another reset. Another five.

Breathing hard, Monoma raises his head to catch Bakugou glaring. His mind is spinning. His anger, his frustration, all his pain is contagious, like it's spreading through his veins, infecting him. He wants to stop but he doesn't. He wants to see the end of this but he doesn't. He wants to win, for once--

He raises both hands and lets out another huge explosion, blasting him off him. "You talk too much," he snaps out, and then he's rocketing off the ground, launching himself at him fast and reaching forward to tackle him to the floor again, an arm shooting out to try and punch him. The pain. The pain. The pain. It's so horrible, but it feels so good all the same — because it's something. It's real. It isn't the emptiness, the doubt, the worthlessness. It's something.

Every moment is a blur as Monoma tackles to the ground, the motions indecipherable and perplexing. Still, Katsuki pushes through it, raising an arm to block the punch. Then, moving to bring his knees to his chest, he kicks Monoma again from underneath and forces him off.

He hunches over and braces his hands on the ground, clutching the grass between his fingers as he stares wide-eyed at nothing. He knows Monoma is still there, still has is quirk, could attack him at any moment, but...

"Damn...it," he breathes, coughing. He tries to compose himself, regain his strength, do something useful, but his body doesn't seem to want to cooperate with him. His vision blurs over more, and he takes a moment to realize he's crying.

"Damn it..." Monoma hits the ground again with a slam, rolling to his hands and feet automatically, feeling the rhythm of the fight sinking into his body like water, pulsing with his heart beat. He's getting it. He's ready. He's about to launch himself forward again when he stops, seeing that Bakugou wasn't getting up. Something was wrong.

His heart drops out of his chest when he catches the glint of tears falling onto the grass below him. His breath hitches, and, somehow, he feels more horrified, more threatened, than he did just seconds ago.

"... H-hey..." He doesn't get up, not fully, keeping himself crouched to the ground, approaching Katsuki like one would a battered animal. "Hey, don't--" he starts out, frantic, panicking.

Crawling forward some more, he lifts a hand, as wary as he had been before this all started, when all he'd wanted was a moment of his time. "W-... we could stop, Bakugou, we don't have to keep going--" Suddenly, Katsuki reaches out and grabs Monoma's wrist. Not making eye contact. His head still held down, he snaps, "No. Don't stop." A strangled laugh escapes him, one he's not even sure he believes. "It's just starting to get good."

Then he pushes Monoma away and struggles to his feet, his brain screaming at him once again. Broken words and phrases he's heard a thousand times before, has said to himself a thousand times before. They shouldn't phase him as much as they do but it's true, it sucks, he's weak... He can't even keep his head clear.

"Don't," he says, quietly. So soft it's almost a whisper. "Don't hold back. I told you this already. Give me everything you have. I don't care. But, whatever you do..." Explosions light up one palm as he begins to approach Monoma again, this time slowly. "...don't pity me." Monoma only frowns. He feels that touch lingering on his wrist when he's shoved back. His clock reset, another five minutes. Frowning, he gets to his feet as well, mirroring him, understanding everything and nothing all at once.

This was crazy. Katsuki was crazy. And maybe he was a little crazy too for being so willing to go along with it.

Gritting his teeth again, he scowls. "Fine," he snaps, hand flexing, explosions lighting up his palm in that same way. "Whatever you want, Bakugou."

He holds his arm out, aiming downward, and blasts himself up into the air, soaring up high above him. Katsuki smirks as he watches Monoma shoot upright, readying himself on the ground for whatever's about to come — though, seeing as it's his quirk Monoma's using, he can take a good guess.

I've made contact with him too many times, he thinks. He stumbles as he moves, every muscle in his body dedicated to working against him. But, again, he doesn't care. What matter is this, right now, erasing the void settling over his heart. There's too much going on, too much...

With a flick of his wrist, the explosions on his right palm grow in intensity. He knows it would be unwise to let Monoma touch him again, and yet...

He grits his teeth. Prepared. Monoma is completely unused to flying. At least, like this anyway. He's never really used it all the times he's gotten to take his quirk, but he's watched Bakugou do it enough times. It didn't look too hard, not for what he needed it for.

But, ugh, this was going to hurt.

He stops the blasts, high up in the air, pillowed by his height for only seconds. It's a strange, weightless feeling that feels right at the moment, the way he's above all of UA, nothing but the sky around him and Bakugou waiting for him on the ground. It feels good. He'd have to thank Bakugou for this later, if he let him.

And then he's falling, gravity catching up with him. He adjusts, twisting into the air so that his plummet is more like a dive, and then- he lets both palms ignite, as large as he could make them. It hurts to do, and it's gonna hurt, the impact he wants if he can make it in time-- But he needs it. He needs that speed.

He hurtles forward, fully intending on crashing headlong into him , needing that contact with him again. Katsuki's eyes widen. He knows what's coming, what Monoma is trying to do — and he, despite the hazy state that he's in, swears that isn't going to happen. He isn't going to give Monoma the satisfaction.

And yet...

The effort it takes to move is excruciatingly painful, like there's a ball and chain attached to his ankle that keeps holding him back. However, that doesn't stop him from lighting up his own palms in retaliation, raising both his arms and readying himself to counter Monoma's attack.

"Not," he manages, the words meant mainly for himself, though he's screaming them, desperate, "going to let you win." Monoma grits his teeth, grimacing, resolving his drive. Just let it happen, he thinks in a violent, frustrated plea, because it's too late now. He can't change direction, he can't stop his attack. All he can do is go--

The blasts he's using as propulsion stop. He's shooting through the air, faster than he can register, Bakugou's face gets closer and closer. He's sure in the next few seconds he's going to slam into him like a comet hitting the earth, and yet, he can see the glow of his palms firing up, and that's the last thing he sees before he squeezes his eyes shut, covering his head with his arms in a vain attempt to shield himself from the blow.

At the last second, his own palms ignite-- Katsuki doesn't really have much of an idea about what happens after that, only that the explosion that ensues in result is one so loud it rattles his skull. After that it goes dark, and all he can hear is the ringing in his ears.

When he comes to he realizes he's lying on the ground, his arms aching from the force of the explosions he'd used and his head pounding from the exertion of the entire fight, the toll it's been taking on him since the beginning. He still feels hollow, empty, the exact opposite effect he'd been hoping for — and, on top of that, everything hurts.

He attempts to push upright but winds up collapsing under his own weight, hitting the ground again with a small grunt. Damn it, he thinks, letting his forehead thunk against the dirt. What the hell was I thinking?

Slowly, after a moment of catching his breath, he lifts his head and begins to look around. "Monoma?" It takes a little too long of a moment to convince himself that he's still breathing. For some reason, he was sure he was dead.

Monoma opens his eyes with a groggy squint. There's something wrong with his vision, he realizes at first, all painful and blurry. Was he blind!? He sits up in a flash, panicking and grabbing at his face before he realizes... oh. He blinks the stinging blood away, wiping his face and fixing his hair, feeling something hot smearing over his skin from where its dripping down from under it. He can't quite place the injury yet, but... he must've hit his head somehow in the blast. Something like that.

Pondering that, he flexes his fingers. He can still feel Bakugou's quirk residing inside him, so even if he had been knocked out (which he's still figuring out?), it hadn't been for long.

Monoma raises his head when he hears his name with a little jolt as he's shaken out of his thoughts. He stands up, something that almost seemed easy until the effort of his action caught up with him and then he staggers back, arms throbbing with pain. Bakugou is feet away from him, which means he'd flown back an impressive fucking distance just now.

He approaches him cautiously, a tiny bit haughty by the time he reaches him. "I'm still standing," he informs him with a daring little smile. "Which means I win. Unless you wanna call it a tie~..."

Katsuki makes a small sound in response, whether it's an affirmative or a protest being left to interpretation. He can't move. His entire body is sore, horribly so. He moves one arm, grabbing at the dirt feebly as he attempts to move before he goes slack once again.

Monoma's explosions has a toll on him, as well. He can feel that his skin has burned, and when he looks he sees how red his arms are in particular. Blisters have grown in certain spots, too, and some of the skin is peeling off altogether.

Damn it. We went too far. Katsuki's lips twitch as he considers whether it was worth it or not, and decides that it wasn't — in fact, it served no benefit to him at all. He's standing. I'm not. Which means...

"Recovery Girl," he mutters, flinching as he attempts to move yet again. He looks up and Monoma, his vision still blurred. Gray clouds begin to form in his peripheral and he finds it a struggle to do so much as keep his eyes open. "Crap."

His face hits the dirt.

#[[ hi i adore this scene it came out so well f u c k!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! goddamn! ]]#monobaku #bakumono #monoma.docx #old bakugou #[[ also! took place last night :3 ]]

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