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97keanu · 1 day

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The Beast You’ve Made Of Me.

Premise: After moving to the town of San Dimas in 1990, you figured it was nothing more but a small town filled with like minded drama. You’ve been uprooted mid senior year because of your “behavioral problems”, as your mother would put it, and it hasn’t been easy fitting in. Lucky you, you find the one person there you can really trust, your sweet and loving boyfriend Ted. It’s the night of a big party out in the woods, one last hurrah before the end of your senior year, and you debut you and Ted as a couple. The drama from that gossip turns out to be the least of your worries when your boyfriend is dragged away mid smoke sesh by something from the woods. When he reappears later, distant, and uninterested in seeing you, you begin to wonder what’s really going on. You soon learn that the town of San Dimas, California is hiding more secrets than you thought.

One thing you know for sure, you have to be careful when the moon is full…

CW/Tags: Hurt, Angst, Ted/Evil!Ted/This is kind of a Jekyll and Hyde situation, Werewolf AU, stoner!ted + reader, cheerleader!reader, eventual smut, slowish burn, clueless!reader, sweet but sad!reader, longing, outcast!reader, small town gossip/drama, revenge flirting, angry/needy, p in v, knotting, dubcon, drunk!reader, biting, tasting blood, size kink, aftercare?, cuddling, slight mentions of breeding, cute ending/happy ending/comfort ending.

Words: 8.3k

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“Isn't it supposed to rain tonight?” You overhear one of the other party goers say shyly as pewter clouds churn overhead.

“Yeah, but it ain’t raining yet!” One of the ‘future-frat-boy’ seniors belts out followed by the howls of his pack, otherwise known as the San Dimas football team.

“Well, you know what they say about being out on a full moon…” One of the popular girls complains in a whiny tone, allowing an in for the jocks to make fun of her which for all they know could be flirting.

“Ohhh, someone's scared of the big bad wolf?” They tease while mimicking wolfish noises loudly.

Despite the stars being blocked out by threatening storm clouds, the full moon rules bright between tuffs of gray, an amber ring echoing around it. You watch it, perplexed by its color, not watching your step as you hike towards the lodge. Your white converse hits an uncovered mossy root and for a second you think you will already start to embarrass yourself for the night by falling in front of everyone.

Then, a gentle hand helps to steady your elbow, the other resting on your lower back, your tight, cream crop top exposing the skin there.

“Hey, easy now…” You hear the soft tones of your boyfriend's voice whisper to you.

You turn towards him, a small smile pulling at the corners of your glossy lips as you look into his comforting brown eyes. He returns the smile and gives your cheek a gentle peck.

You and Ted haven’t been dating long, you didn’t have the chance to.

After everything that happened at your last school, your mother thought best to pull you out in the middle of your senior year and plant you here in San Dimas, California.

It was different from what you were used to, and in other ways all the same. The clique-y drama, rumors that somehow snowball out of control, and your mother’s expectations of you being the perfect preppy daughter, her highschool mini me. Only problem was the move and your reputation nullified any chance at being prom queen, valedictorian, or dating the quarterback. Hey, at least you managed to make the cheerleading squad and your grades up. That seemed to keep her off your back for the most part.

Sure, your mother still doesn’t know you are dating one of the San Dimas High School’s resident stoners, but she wouldn’t understand anyways. Ted was an escape from the prim and proper world of suburbia, someone who liked to have fun and be himself, not to mention completely head over heels for you. It felt good to be loved, felt good to have a home in him.

You watch as fairy lights cast a glow behind him, almost throwing a little halo in his dark brown hair. You feign confidence as members of the SDHS’s student body watch you walk in with Ted, a few whispers already happening behind red solo cups. As you two go through the cabin to the back yard, you can tell Ted notices your tension rise, and his thumb creates comforting circles on your skin.

“Say the word, and we’ll go.” His voice says low and slow in your ear, breath tickling you there.

You give a small head shake, and Ted nods, keeping on as if he has no worries. The happy-go-lucky energy he gives off calms you. You lean into him, sweeping your long ponytail away from your neck.

Up until now, Ted Logan had mainly been a secret you kept all to yourself, but the prying eyes around you could never make you doubt how good of a boyfriend he was. You were too in love not to be confident about that.

______

The bonfire that the football team constructed was actually quite impressive, you had to give them credit there since manual labor was their forte. You snuggle into Ted’s orange jacket that he’s wrapped around you, inhaling the scent of cheap body spray and marijuana. The warmth of the fire prickles your cheeks as Ted strategically toasts a marshmallow beside you. Your chin finds a home on his shoulder, relaxing into his body.

The chatter of the rest of the party drones on with bursts of laughter cutting up the monotones. You know that this isn’t the usual crowd for Ted, but he seems at home as ever, whispering little jokes to you as he enjoys the night despite cross looks from others. You’re sure there will be more talk on Monday about how you don’t deserve to be on the cheer squad if you’re going to be hanging out with burnouts and stoners like Ted Logan, but that doesn't matter. It was only a week before the end of the year, and then you’d be free of highschool forever. Tonight, you were going to enjoy being a senior with your boyfriend without shame.

”Hey,” Ted leans into you, holding out a perfectly brown marshmallow and gently popping it in your mouth when you open it. “Do you wanna go smoke? There’s a little dock to the lake that I know…”

He looks at you with a shy half-smile, and despite the fact that he knows you like getting high just as much as him, he still acts nervous to ask one of the cheerleaders to do something so improper. You nod, mouth full of sweet marshmallow fluff, and let him help you stand up. No one really notices when the two of you slip away from the beacon of light and into the dark forest full of summer greens.

Ted guides you, the trail a bit hard to see in the dark, but not impossible.

“It’s not too far away from here,” You hear him say beside you, as well as the other night noises of the forest humming along.

You let him take your hand into his warm one, an arm wrapped around the small of your waist to keep you safe from almost falling once more. You don’t know what it is about Ted, but you just trust him. Like, completely, utterly trust him despite only knowing him for a few months. He’s not like the other boys at school, who you have to watch your drink with, have to be careful of ending up alone with. No, Ted really only has your best interest in mind, and you feel safe with him right now.

That’s why when you hear a low howl off in the distance you cling into his body, freezing up for a moment.

“What was that?” You say, trying not to let the tinge of panic rise in your voice.

“Probably just a coyote,” Ted starts to explain, his voice soft and soothing.

“It sounded like a wolf…” You whisper as another howl responds to the first.

“Wolves aren’t usually out this way,” Ted reassures with a small laugh. “And we’re only a five minute walk away from everyone else. Three if we run.”

“Do we have to run?” You try to look up at his face, but the moonlight is concealed by the clouds at the moment, so all you see is shadows.

“No, no,” He backpedaled. “We’re going to be fine, babe. Just the sounds of the forest, is all.”

You feel his hand gently rubbing your back, and the motion calms you down. You take a deep breath, and let him keep walking you forward. Soon enough, you walk through a clearing, and the world seems to open up once more from the claustrophobia of the forest.

The lake ebbs and flows, making splashing noises against the dark rocks on its coast. You can barely tell what’s in there, the water a deep color of black, small sparklings shining off as the moon begins to find its way out once more.

Your shoes knock against the wood of the docks, creaking as you make your way down, eyes starting to get used to the dark. You take a seat at the end letting your legs dangle off the edge. You settle in, slipping your converse and socks off, your feet dipping into the cool water. Your previous fear in the forest starts to settle down as you listen to the calming waters.

Ted gently opens his jacket that you’re still wearing, and pulls a joint and a lighter from the inner pocket, giving you a kiss after as if he’s thankful that you let him grab it. You watch as his face lights up from the small orange glow of the lighter, the joint hanging lazily out of the corner of his mouth. For a second, you feel a blush coming up to your cheeks as you appreciate how adorable he looks.

He takes a deep inhale of the joint, holding it in for a second, then coming closer. You know what he wants to do, and welcome his soft, full lips onto yours. He parts your lips slowly, letting you feel the smoke from his lungs exhale into yours, tendrils of smoke floating up from the spaces your lips didn’t fully close around. You let his air fill your lungs, then deepen the kiss while trying not to let any spill out. Finally, you must pull away, breathing out once more and feeling heat in more than just your cheeks.

This little ritual of yours continues until you hear something rustling in the brush behind you. Your eyes feel warm and heavy, and you slowly turn your attention towards the sound, the dark of the night keeping whatever’s there hidden.

“Did you hear that?” You say without turning towards Ted.

“Hear what?” Ted’s voice is soft and lazy.

You say nothing, trying to force your ears to hear something within the hum of the night. The feeling of the hair on the back of your neck raises, a sense of being watched beginning to flood your body.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

“I think someone’s out there…” You try to speak as quietly as possible.

“Probably someone else from the party trying to find somewhere quiet.” Ted whispers back, then calls out towards the noise. “Hey! Spot already taken, find a new one, dudes!”

You know your boyfriend isn’t trying to be dismissive, not trying to make the fear in you rise, but you find yourself trying to hush him anyways. He stands from the edge of the dock, and you find yourself pulling your feet from the lake, water dripping onto the wood.

A low growl escapes the tree line.

“Ted, I don’t think that’s another student.” Your hands are already clutching his forearm, and with another snarl from the darkness, you feel Ted take a step back.

Both of you are wordless, unmoving as a pair of yellow eyes glint in the moonlight from the overgrown brush.

“Ted…” You don’t know what he could even do, but he was your only solace now as the blood in your body beats harder.

Those yellow eyes flick towards you, the sound of your voice and the tremble in your legs already sorting you out as the weaker one. Ted’s arm pulls over your chest protectively, and feel his body brace.

“Can you swim?” His never serious tone has flipped on its head.

“Y-yes.” Is all you can say, fear taking hold in your legs, freezing them to the spot.

You don’t have much time to think as something your eyes can’t even comprehend stalks from the forest towards you. It had the face of a wolf, muzzle too long, teeth too sharp, body too human. Its teeth are bared and ready, hands ending in dark, thick claws. In the split second before its legs are ready to pounce, you feel Ted’s arm push against your chest.

In one moment, you’re frozen to your spot, fear pulsing through you as this creature breaks out in a run, eyes set on you. In the next, the cold, dark lake is taking the breath from your lungs and you watch helplessly as Ted intervenes the wolf from chasing after you. Just as you sink under the blanket of water around you, those sharp, white teeth are glinting in the moonlight and sinking into the shoulder of your boyfriend. Your lovely, sweet, kind boyfriend.

Water fills your mouth, preventing the scream from escaping.

You don’t even want to resurface, don’t even want to fight, but you know you must. Your muscles tense with strength you don’t want to give, arms wildly clutching for support you can’t find. You break through the water with a gasp, choking out the disgusting, earthy taste of the lake from your throat. Your eyes try to find your boyfriend in the darkness, your ears already hear his screaming being dragged farther and farther away from you, snarls interjecting until you hear nothing.

The moon shines down on you, a silent watcher to the night events. The sound of the water slapping against the dock and the cicadas calling out is all you can make out. The horror filling inside you has no escape, nowhere to go, falling deeper and deeper into the pit of your stomach. You float aimlessly, and when you find yourself on shaking legs, gingerly stepping out of the water, you can’t even remember how you got there.

When you stumble back towards the noise of the party, the warm light of the bonfire, no one even notices at first as you make your way there. Your arms held tight around each other, Ted’s orange jacket cold and stuck to your wet skin. Your short, flowy skirt is now suctioned against your bare thighs, and your ponytail drips down your back. You don’t even notice Ted’s blood mixing with lake water on your legs. An arm on your shoulder stops your shuttering walk, and you turn to see the concerned faces of the rest of the party.

“What happened?” One of them asks, concern genuine.

“Oh my god, is that blood?” Someone recoils from the sight.

“You’re soaking wet, where were you?” Along with other hushed inquiries.

You try to speak, but your lip just quivers without answers. The world seems too bright and big by the fire, too many faces in the sea of people beginning to huddle around you, and you doubt even half of them care about you for more than just the gossip. You recoil from hands that are seemingly forever trying to guide you somewhere.

“It…got him.” Is all you could muster as you’ve somehow found yourself sat in the dirt by the fire.

Silence follows after you speak, then hushed tones create a simmering symphony in the small crowd.

“Who? That-that…” they try to remember who you came to the party with, but you know this crowd never even cared to learn Ted’s name. “That boy you were with?”

You don’t get time to answer as a scream breaks out from the edge of the crowd.

“It’s him!” You hear a few people call.

The crowd thins out to look at what new, shiny piece of gossip for Monday they can find, and that’s when you see him.

Ted.

Your loving, wonderful boyfriend, stumbling in from the tree line. You stand, dry dirt caked on your legs, creating stains you’ll never be able to explain to your mom. You don’t even know what to do at first, you watch, feeling as if you’re looking at a ghost. You were so sure he was gone. Tears prick your red eyes, and soon enough they’re falling down your face as you’re running to him.

You see the weariness in Ted’s tired, dark eyes, his mop of brown hair haphazardly in his face, and he leans into you for support when you reach him. You can see the rips in his shirt, see the blood looking black as night, so you reach up a worried hand to apply pressure to his shoulder. All you feel is smooth, tan skin under your fingertips.

“Ted?” Worry furrows your brow.

“I’m alright,” his breath seems heavy, skin sweaty to the touch.

He looks up and sees the crowd, and to your surprise you see his teeth bared, from pain or something else, you don’t know. Then he speaks, low, almost growling, to you.

“Let’s get out of here.”

–-----

You expect the last Monday before summer to be a buzz with rumors of Friday night, that when you walk into school there will be looks, questions, people who can't even begin to understand what really happened out there. As you pass the threshold into the hot halls of San Dimas High, it's as if people are recoiling from you.

Lockers are shut, whispers halt mid sentence, and no one wants to look you in the eye. You feel completely outcast from even pretending to be normal.

What's worse, you haven't heard from Ted since you dropped him off at his house. You haven’t even returned his rusty old van, and he loves that van. You called his line a million times, and no one picked up, not even his dad to tell you to stop calling so much. Helpless doesn't even begin to describe how you feel.

You know how he looked when you dropped him off. Sweat dripping from his hair, his body hot to the touch, hotter than you thought possible. He would try to suppress groans as he directed you to his house, yet insisted on not taking him to the hospital. He stumbled into his door, slamming it behind him before you could even push your way in. You stood there, hair still wet, the cicadas singing a sad chorus to how pitiful you felt.

That was the last time you saw him.

Now, on Monday, as you approach the locker you traded with someone to be closer to his, you half expect him to be there, goofy grin and all making your morning better. Of course, there his locker was, plastered in band stickers and graffiti and…lonely. You hold Ted’s orange jacket closer to you, not having taken it off since Friday. You know how it must look, but you need it. Need to feel like he’s here with you, smell his cheap cologne on the collar, fiddle with the old bic lighter in the pocket.

You feel all eyes on you as you put your things away, but no one says a word. You feel as if you may burst into tears right there from the stress of it all when the bell rings, making you jump. Everyone knows you’re on edge now.

Classes go on, and the silence gets less and less. By lunch, hushed rumors are stirring as you try to find somewhere to sit in peace. You consider taking your tray of unappealing slop to the cheerleaders table, but of course, your typical spot is taken by someone else, signaling that you’re unwelcome. You find half of a table to sit at, and try to make it seem like you're busy by pushing around your food and gingerly biting into a red apple. It tastes like mush.

“I don’t think we'll see him before the end of school.”

“My dad says this happens every few years…”

“Yeah! Mine said his cousin went out on a full moon when they were kids and never came back…”

“Well, I guess the San Dimas curse strikes again.”

“You don't really believe that do you?”

“Either way, that guy’s probably dead.”

“Not that big of a loss, he was a burn out anyways.”

You're standing before you know it, sick of listening to everyone speculate on the person you love most, the only person here who ever cared to get to know who you really were underneath it all. Your tray is promptly dumped and the cafeteria goes hush as you walk with tears falling down your cheeks. You burst through the large, metal doors, and your sneakers squeak as they take you away.

Soon enough, you’re ditching. You know it’s more than possible that your mother will hear about this, and of course, berate you for old habits. If you’re lucky, maybe they won’t care at the end of the year. Either way, you have to know, have to find the answers that kept you from finding a wink of sleep these past 48 hours. You burst out of the school into the hot, humid air outside. Everything smells thick after the rain of the weekend, petrichor and musky. You don’t even have a car, you just let your feet beat on the hot pavement towards Ted’s house.

You two have walked back to his place countless times since you moved here, especially since you could never take him back to your house. The world is a blur of neighborhoods and mid-afternoon traffic. You don’t stop until your hand is raised at Ted’s door, ready to pound, but before you can even lay a knuckle there, the door opens, just a slice.

“Ted?” You whisper, knowing his dad is at work now, and his little brother in school.

A moment passes without a word from the otherside of the door. Maybe his dad is home, maybe something bad really did happen. You hope more than anything it’s him.

”I can’t come out.” You hear his voice, raspy and low, and for a moment you don’t think it’s really him.

“What?” You ask puzzled, moving your head to try to get a better look inside the small sliver of door that’s open. “What do you mean? Are you okay?”

“I’m not feeling well. I don’t want to…” He pauses for a long moment. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Hurt me? What the hell does he mean by that?

“Ted, you won’t hurt me, I don’t care if you’re sick, I just wanna make sure you’re okay!” You begin to ramble, anything that keeps him talking, and potentially lets you see him.

“Go home, babe.” You can tell it kills him to say it, his voice choking up, those three words getting caught in his throat.

“I’m not going home until you tell me what’s going on, Ted Logan!” You stomp your foot without even thinking, folding your arms across your chest.

Ted says nothing. In fact, he does the single most heartbreaking thing you can think of.

He closes the door.

“Ted!” You yell, you pound on the door.

There is no response.

No matter how much you call for him, he ignores you, so you say the only thing you can think that might get to him.

“Ted, you open this door right this minute or we are OVER!”

The door swings open.

Ted, standing there in only his sweatpants, dark circles under his eyes, looking more tired than you could imagine a 18 year old boy could look. His hair is damp, plastered to his forehead as if feverish. His breath is heaving. He looks nothing like your sweet, gentle boyfriend you’ve come to know and love.

“I said,” He speaks to you in a tone he’s never done before, half begging, half demanding. “Leave…”

You stand there, confused, mouth open, unsure what to say, but not moving.

“Leave!” He snarls again, louder, hand hitting the doorframe loudly, making you flinch.

As cruel as his voice is being with you right now, his eyes say something different. He looks as if it’s all he can do to get you away from him, truly believing it for your own good.

You begin to speak, and Ted turns rapidly, slamming the front door with all his might, house seeming to shake from the impact.

That was it.

That was all you could do. Come here, try to help him, but if he wanted you away, then he got it.

You turn, walking down the sidewalk with your arms around yourself, shame and embarrassment and heartbreak heating your face and ears. You suppose you’ve lost your boyfriend after that, and over god knows what. You don’t understand what’s happening at all. You thought you did everything a good girlfriend would, but maybe you made a mistake. And even if you did, could you two not talk about it? You let out a half sob as the pain in your heart tenses up, holding your breath to try to keep it in until you can safely let it all out.

Tears of hurt and anger slip down your face. Frustrated, you make your way home.

That was the last time you saw Ted Logan, for a while, at least.

————

The end of your senior year came and went. The talk died down, and just like predicted, Ted never returned to school for his final days. You knew he was alive, at the very least, but nothing else.

Graduation took place on a Saturday, a week or so after the last day. Everyone else cheered, watched as the schools wolf mascot was finally revealed to be some half popular nerd, the valedictorian gave a speech about how the best days of our lives were yet to come, threw their caps in the air when it was all said and done.

You sat, holding your diploma and hat, finger tracing the square edge while thinking about how Ted was supposed to be here. You two worked so hard to get his grades up so he could pass and his dad wouldn’t send him away to Alaska for military school. Maybe he really went through with that threat, for all you knew.

Either way, it had been a month since you had seen Ted Logan.

A month of lonely nights, your hidden stash of weed getting smaller and smaller as you self medicate in your room, and still you think of him. You blow smoke out the window at night, sometimes thinking you heard the sounds of rustling leaves out there, then dismissing it.

Who would want to stalk around your suburban home anyways?

————

You soon got tired of being holed up in the house all summer, and find it surprisingly easy to call up some of your old school friends to see what everyone else has been up to. You thought after everything that went down last time, you would be a social outcast. Turns out, they were more than willingly to invite you, some even more than vocal about wondering where you’d been. You know they have no real care for your wellbeing, but decide to go to one of the jocks upcoming parties.

And that’s how you find yourself anxious to see anyone other than your mother on a Friday night. You curl the ends of your high ponytail so the curls bounce at the nape of your neck, blow drying a mess of bangs in the front until they look pristine. A baby blue mini dress and some pumps later, and you’re feeling a bit more like yourself for the first time in a while. You finish everything off with a bow on your hair tie the color of marshmallows.

Soon enough, you’re driving to the outskirts of San Dimas, letting the A/C keep you cool on this June night. Some farm boy jock was hosting a barn party way out here, and you knew it was probably stupid to come. Best case, everyone feels to awkward to interact with you, worst case, they ask you questions incessantly about Ted’s disappearance and the last outing you were at.

Still, somehow, you tell yourself, this is better than Friday night alone watching reruns on the family T.V.

The moon is almost full, an orange hue clear and bright in the sky, it’s light guiding you to your destination.

It is easier than you thought to find your way there, despite not knowing the area. A few wrong turns and a right, and you’re pulling into the grass front lawn with 20 other cars or so. The barn is already lit up, spilling light and sound from inside. You open your door, struck with the heat of the night, already feeling your makeup begin to melt into your skin. Heels weren’t the best idea for the terrain, but at least you looked hot.

You pass a few straggling people hanging on the front porch of the old farm house, and one calls you over.

“Hey!” You see a few semi familiar faces, but hardly know them other than going to school together for the last few months.

They seem to know you though, so you walk up the groaning old wooden steps, and smile. Before you can even speak, one of the girls interrupts, as if she would explode if she didn’t say it.

“So, you like, have no idea about the San Dimas curse, huh?”

”Come on, Jenny, don’t get into that.” Her presumed boyfriend groans, and ‘Jenny’ keeps going.

“No, but for real, like you’re new so you wouldn’t know right?” You can see she’s dying to tell you more, so you simply shake you head.

“Curse? What curse?” You try to say casually, your interest piqued, but not wanting to show it.

“Oh here we go…!” Another girl groans, then reaches into a cooler next to her, handing you a can of beer. “Here, you’ll need this to get through this one.”

Everyone laughs before Jenny gets their attention back.

“Hey! Hey! She’s the newbie, so she deserves to know, especially after everything that happened…” As she trails, everyone looks to see your reaction, but you’re looking down at the condensation on the cold can.

“Alright, well, I’m all ears.” You shrug, looking back up, meeting their eyes.

“So,” Jenny turns serious. “San Dimas has this, like, ‘curse’, right? I mean, we don’t really know what else to call it, but that seems right enough.”

“Anyways, every ten years or so, someone goes missing. Not that unusual, sure, that just happens sometimes, but it seems to happen like clock work, okay?” Her blue eyes are big, like she really believes this, but the crowd still has unsure snickers of doubt. “Well, that’s not the only odd part, is it? No, because it happens whenever the moon is full-“

A jock grabs his buddy and annoyingly cuts Jenny off with a howl.

“Hush! It’s true, okay! They always go missing during the full moon. Always in the woods, always mysteriously. Not to mention, the sightings!” Jenny continues, trying to tame the crowd in her favor. “Folks say there’s something stalking out in those woods, something big, something not human. Say it’s got claws, teeth sharper than a dogs, head like a-“

“Oh yes, the werewolf sightings, told by old men who don’t even remember what they saw out there.” A few agreeable sounds follow the jocks interruption.

“Well, that’s what I’m saying! She saw it!” Jenny points to you like you’re her key to all this, her evidence that the curse is real. “You did, didn’t you? What did you see out there when that thing took your boyfriend?”

All eyes turn to you, all curious to hear, to know what you really saw. Dark flashes from that night bubble up in your mind, flashes of that beast, biting into Ted and dragging him away. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Just as you might have had an answer on the tip of your tongue, someone interrupts you.

“You don’t really believe those old stories do you?” You turn, your heart already racing at the sound of that voice.

His voice.

Ted Logan stands on the porch of the old farm house with a grin. Everyone is silent as Ted’s eyes graze across your body, practically eating you up where you stand. The yellow of the naked bulb above seeps into his dark eyes, and for a second you think there’s something wrong with them. No, must be the lights, playing tricks on your eyes. Ted watches you closely, examining your reaction.

“Besides, not much of a curse when the ‘missing person’ is right here.” Another voice joins Ted, and you notice someone with Ted.

Everyone waits to see where this will go, the social pressure to speak building up in you. Ted always knew you hated being the center of attention like this, and you watch as he smirks at your unease, almost exuding cockiness, but you can’t believe it. Your Ted Logan? He would never act in such a way…

Ted holds out a hand.

“Why don’t we speak somewhere more privately.” His voice is more serious now, tone lower.

You know you should just stay here, ignore him after everything he’s done, but you find your hand in his warm, large one, leading you away. Your heels click off the porch onto the grass as the crowd you’ve left begins to dissect what’s just happened. The man Ted arrived with follows, and you frown towards his direction.

“Who is he?” Your eyes narrow at the stranger, hair bouncing as you walk towards the back of the barn with them.

“He’s my…my…” Ted can’t seem to find the right word..

“Cousin.” The other responds, a devilish grin on his lips.

“R-right! Cousin!” Ted affirms. “This is Bill.”

Cousin? This guy was like a foot shorter than Ted, big blue eyes, and a mess of blond curls on top. They looked nothing alike, and yet, there was something…An aura of sorts, if you had to describe it. Something that seemed to link the two, either in attitudes or something else your basic senses couldn’t pick up on. Either way, you doubted more than anything they were cousins, and you were going to get to the bottom of this one way or another.

”I don’t know who you think you are showing up out of nowhere like nothing happened, Ted!” You hiss in his direction as you all round the corner of the barn, and Bill snickers at your remark.

“Relax, babe, can’t you just be happy to see me?” Ted scoffs at your attitude, making your rage grow.

You can’t help yourself, you slap him.

Your hand leaves a hot mark behind on his cheek,

“Babe? That’s what you think you’re going to call me after dropping me for a month? Let me worry about if you’re hurt, if you’re sick, if dead? No, you don’t get to call me that, Ted, that’s reserved for boyfriends who actually give a fuck to contact their girlfriends after being dragged into the woods by a damn wolf!” The anger is really welling up inside you now, but you can’t stop it, not now.

“So, no, you don’t get to call me babe after all that! As far as I’m concerned, we are not dating anymore!” You could keep going but the way Ted’s looking at you has you stopping in your tracks.

“Wouldn’t have done that if I were you…” Bill chuckles behind Ted, lighting a cigarette without much care for how the situation goes.

Ted, however, is shaking. No, not shaking, vibrating. He stares you down through thick strands of dark hair, breath heaving, shoulders raised, looking at you as if he wanted to tear you apart. The moonlight casts shadows on his face that make something in your stomach churn with a moment of true fear.

A deep growl echoes from somewhere inside his chest, and Bill puts a hand on his shoulder. Bill looks you in the eyes with his icy blues and throws a nod towards the rest of civilization out here.

“You should go back to the party now, girlie.” He says with a fake smile at the end, dropping it and whispering something into Ted’s ear that makes him back off.

The two of them turn and walk deeper into the darkness, and you’re left standing there once again.

————

Anger is still coursing through your veins, your head not thinking properly. You don’t even want to go home, you want release from all of this. You want something different, anything.

You rejoin the party in the barn this time, and the crowd dances to music someone has set up out here. It doesn’t matter to you much what’s playing as long as it’s loud and it’s fast. You walk over to a table that hosts various amounts of liquor and find yourself a few shots deep very quickly. Heat pours through your veins, making you feel tingly all over as the alcohol begins to hit, and you join the crowd.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the beat, winding your body in ways that you haven’t done in months now, your dress riding up shorter and shorter as you go. Soon enough, someone’s hands have caught your hips and begun grinding them into their crotch. You don’t recoil, instead, grinding back, letting their mouth find a home at your neck. If you and Ted really were broken up now, then you might as well have some fun.

You let the strangers hands wander your body, groping where they please, enjoying how the liquor feels when you move against another warm body. Sweat begins to prick your skin as you continue, and soon your mysterious stranger is whispering filthy things in your ears. Things you and Ted never even got around to doing since he used to be shy about such things, which you also used to find cute.

Now, it was like you didn’t even know him.

You shake your head with anger as the thought of Ted comes back up, trying to get back into the groove with your dance partner, but of course that too is interrupted when he is forcibly pulled from you. You pause mid dance, confusion filling your drunk mind. You turn on wobbly heels, and see those eyes, and this time it can’t be the lights making them so yellow.

Ted grabs your wrist, pulling you into his body, glowering at you.

“That’s how you’re going to get back at me?” He snidely whispers in your ear.

“What? Not like you wanted me anymore, anyways.” You cruelly throw back, turning your nose up at him to leave.

He holds you fast.

“Who said I didn’t want you anymore…?” His voice almost sounds hurt, and you try to get a read on his face.

For a second, you’re almost convinced the old Ted was back by how soft he looked right now.

You open your mouth to retaliate anyways, spiteful as always, just like your mother always warned about, but instead, Ted pulls you even closer, until your lips are almost touching, his breath mingling with yours, eyes staring deep into your soul.

“Trust me,” His voice is smoother now, hot and full of want. “I want you.”

You blink, trying to make sense of the situation, but with the alcohol pumping through your system and a history of bad decisions, you can’t stop yourself. You let your lips graze his, not even full on kissing him, just giving permission. And that’s enough for Ted.

Enough for him to let his soft, warm, silky lips crush against yours, the want so strong he has to hold himself back with every muscle in his body, arms clutching you tightly. He devours you with his kiss, and it’s almost hard for you to keep up with his lips. He pulls you onto his leg, spreading your thighs so you can ride him there, your dress now fully exposing your ass and pale blue checkered panties. His hands grip your hips, pulling you towards him and away, letting his bent knee create friction down there.

It takes everything inside you to pull away from his kiss, your chest heaving and almost ready to fall out of your dress at this rate.

“Not-Not…” You say breathlessly as you notice a few prying eyes in the crowd. “Not here…”

Ted gives you a look that sends a chill straight to your pussy.

A look that says “I would fuck you right here, right now, in front of everyone if you just gave me permission.”

And even worse.

“I might do it anyway if you don’t get us out of here quickly.”

You’re stumbling out into the woods outside of the barn before you know it. Ted half carries you the whole time, your legs wrapped around his waist as he takes you deeper away from everyone else. Your head knows this is dangerous, knows something about Ted is off, something is wrong, but you need this. You’ve been needing this, ever since he left. Maybe even before then.

Your back ends up crushed against a tree, the bark scraping against your bare shoulders there. Ted breathes heavily into your neck, no, not breathing. Inhaling. Smelling you so deeply before a moan escapes his lips.

“Fuck…” He growls in your ear. “Fuck, I-I need you so bad…”

It’s as if he can’t even get the right words out to describe it, as if it’s painful how badly he needs to fuck you. He’s hungry for you in ways you couldn’t begin to understand.

He grinds himself between your legs, and you can feel how hard he is against your pussy and stomach. His hands go down your shoulders, and you wonder when his nails got so long, the feeling of them almost clawing into your skin turning you on. He quickly pulls your dress down, exposing your breasts to his hands, where he gropes you deeply, the softness of your skin contrasting his.

You let his tongue linger in your mouth, tasting him deeply as he ruts against you, cock needing to be released. You help him, hands drunk and fumbling with his belt. Once his cock is out, you feel the head with your hand, and for a moment, you can hardly believe how big it is.

Ted’s kissing on your neck deepens, teeth grazing the skin there as you stroke his thick cock, using both hands and letting him support your weight. You don’t remember his teeth being so long, not to mention sharp, and just as your thinking of pulling way to get a better look at him, as his growling begins to reach a breaking point, you feel his teeth graze too deeply, biting into the tender flesh of your throat.

You let out a whimper, the feeling of pain mixing with pleasure. Ted takes this as an invitation, hand reaching down to your panties, and with one claw, tearing them in two. You shudder at the thought of how sharp they are and being so close to your most private parts as he checks how wet you are with one finger.

Ted pulls back from where he’s left a mark on your neck, looking you in the eyes. His face has changed, his eyes bright yellow, his teeth on full display and sporting your blood. Others may have screamed, tried to free themselves from his grip, but the monstrous look he was sporting had you weak in the knees. You shudder with pleasure as he places his cock at your entrance, the tip feeling way too big to fit even before it’s in. He seems to pause, for a just a moment, as if the human part of him can hold back just barely.

He’s waiting for you to say yes.

You nod with wanton want, and that’s all it takes. His cock is entering you, a tight fit that leaves you moaning in pain and pleasure as it stretches you beyond what you thought your limits were. You grip his back, feeling yourself already full without even having the entirety of his cock inside of you yet. What little of himself he could hold back before is gone now as he takes one small pull back from being inside you, and slams the force of his cock back where he left and then some. You cry out, trying to move to accommodate such a hefty cock, but failing.

You slip one hand down to your clit to try to tame the pain into pleasure once more, Ted’s cock filling you again and again as he takes you right there in the woods. Your hand circles your clit as best as you can, feeling yourself relax into the process of being fucked by an animal of a man.

Ted’s cock seems to grow even bigger inside of you, the base swelling as he fucks you, making it harder and harder for him to pull out of you. It’s as if you’re being infinitely filled by him as he clumsily tries to fuck you harder. His growls deepen, and as he gets closer he sinks his teeth back into the half moons he left in your shoulder earlier. You cry out as he tastes you, practically tearing you in two with his cock and his teeth, but shudder closer to climax from it all. You furiously play with yourself, free hand gripping your own breast as if the action could hold you in, hold you together for just a few more moments of the pleasure his cock fills you with at the moment.

You buck into him, his cock rutting deeper and deeper, no thoughts of the fact that he’s about to spill his seed inside you without protection, no thoughts of the teeth in your shoulder that tries to hold you still to be fucked. Only that blissful feeling of being so full you can hardly take it. So stretched out and how well that feels when you play with your clit just like that. It brings you closer and closer until you’re spilling over the edge, spamming on his cock that breeds itself into you without care.

As if he’d been waiting for you to finish, before you’ve even finished cumming the first time, Ted growls deeper than you’ve heard all night, jaw locking into your shoulder and popping his growing knot deep enough it won’t come out into you. You keep your hand busy on your clit, not ready to give this up with just one round just yet, as Ted cums deeply inside you. It’s hot, thick, and filling somewhere you’ve never been filled before. You feel it begin to seep out around his knot despite his best efforts to keep you filled, the amount of cum just too much for your body. You lose yourself in the feeling, cumming again, pussy spasming and tightening against his cock.

Worn out and overstimulated, you feel yourself being pulled from the tree. You fall on top of Ted, his knot still wedged deeply inside you with no hope of coming out soon. You straddle his body, where he lays against the dirt of the forest, breathless and staring up at the moon. It takes him a few breaths to look at you.

“So,” You say, chest heavy and pussy throbbing. “You’re a werewolf?”

He gulps in air, and almost tries to speak, then just nods, staring at you for your reaction.

After everything, you look at your boyfriend. You see his puppy dog eyes, his soft lips pursed slightly with worry, that shaggy overgrown hair. You consider it all.

“Okay.” You say affirmatively.

“Okay?” His voice is full of husk and confusion.

“Okay. Werewolf. I can deal with that.” You smile only slightly, and Ted smiles back, the Ted you know and love shining before you.

He pulls you in, tongue lapping at your neck where he bit you, and to your surprise, the bite begins to heal itself quite quickly.

“Werewolf powers.” You whisper to him and he laughs. ”Guess the San Dimas curse is true.”

“Guess I found out the hard way.” Ted whispers, half joking, half pained by the situation.

You two lay there, the moonlight devouring the scene beneath it, breathless and full. Ted’s cock throbs so deeply in your pussy you can’t imagine a time it wasn’t there. The exquisite feeling of fullness has you on cloud nine, and you can’t help but love the feeling of being so close in his arms. The way his languid hands slowly run circles on your back, the relaxed feeling of his softness almost overwhelming you along with every other sensation. You feel tears begin to well up as a release of emotions comes over you.

Ted hears a small sob hiccup in your throat, and holds you even closer, your face buried in his neck. You don’t even need anything to tell you that your soft, sweet, kind Ted was coming out now, you just knew. You knew the way he held you on top of him, letting all your weight into his body, the way his hands comforted you in ways no one else could.

You pull your face away from his, and he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, kisses up every tear that’s fallen. His lips move against your skin, his breath tickling your face, and soon enough you realize he’s whispering something.

You can’t tell what until he kisses your ears, lingering there.

“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t tell you, I didn’t know how…” Pain seeps out of every word.

You pull his face back to yours so you can look into those brown eyes of his.

“Ted ‘Theodore’ Logan, don’t you ever lie to me again, you hear me?” You say sternly, and he nods, tears now welling up in his eyes, but not yet fallen.

“Never.” He promises, and somehow you know it to be true.

You collapse into his chest, letting the emotions of the night overcome you, Ted there to comfort you through it all. You fall mindlessly asleep, worn out and waiting for Ted’s knot to go down. You still can’t believe your boyfriend is a werewolf, but at least you got him back.

At some point, Ted takes you home, somehow transporting you all the way without waking you until the very end. You wake in the middle of being placed into his bed.

He pushes your bangs out of your face gently, kisses your forehead, then climbs into bed next you, letting your body relax into his before the two of you begin to gently fall back asleep. You hear him whisper in your ear before you fall asleep.

“I love you.”

#ted logan x reader #ted logan x f!reader #evil!ted logan x reader #werewolf AU #my writing

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perfecteggpartyland · 3 days

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im not the other anon but ig when compared to other characters kevin can come off as a coward. and i do think "Kevin is a coward" and "it's completely normal for kevin to be afraid of riko" can exist at the same time.

but when pitted against neil for example. i can see see how kevin might seem that way. neil does run away from his father, but ultimately, he only really does that while under the control of his mother. Neil explicitly doesn't want to keep running. and stops very soon after his mom is dead and she can no longer force him to. and the decision does frighten him, I mean he has panic attacks about it, but he keeps doing it despite that. he plans to stay even before Andrew offers him protection, so he doesn't need that crutch like kevin does.

neil also isn't afraid of riko, even when he should be or when he's literally torturing him. he's not afraid of tetsuji either. or even really ichirou. even scenes with his father and lola, I mean he says lola looks like a whore to her face when she's about to torture him 💀 he says "fuck you" to his father when he threatens to cut the tendons in his legs. and he does try and fight Nathan and the others like he punches lola in the throat 😭 I'm just kinda listing of neils actions, but hopefully it makes sense? like I'm not saying neil is always unaffected or unafraid cause its not true, but he has more bravery than I think most ppl do cuz i know I wouldn't be cursing out these ppl if I was face to face with them.

and when we see compare Kevin's behavior to that a lot of it can come off as cowardice.

I think the real problem is seeing coward as a bad thing to be. which maybe sometimes it is. but it seems odd for the fandom to say "oh it's okay to be afraid" and then act like it's an insult to call Kevin a coward. its not bad if he is one. it's just a personality trait, it doesn't make him a bad person. I don't think anyone who calls Kevin a coward is attempting to make some moral judgement of his character, they're just noting a personality trait they observed in him.

Ok the problem is that a lot of people who call Kevin a cowerd ARE making moral judgements of his character; Kevin is rightfully afraid of riko and a literal Yakuza; he grows up in the nest where Neil spent two weeks and as further more traumatized; a lot of people don't take that into Consideration . Kevin not spouting up insults like Neil is not cowardance. he can keep his temper in check; neil is being hypocritical too cause like as u said his mom abused him yet he loves her ; and Kevin grew up with riko and still sees him as a brother figure; that's normal not to mention Neil is afraid of his father and think Kevin is coward. for Kevin his fear is riko. I think it all depends on what you think bravery is; Neil can't keep his temper in check and all his roasts and "bravery" has had awful consequences a lot of times. if Kevin was really coward he wouldn't tell Neil to run away while in the middle of season once he found out his identity knowing game would be at risk; he still offered to talk to Neil about riko when he's rightfully terrified and had a panic attack after seeing him. He never gave up on exy learned to play with his other hand and in the end he manages to stand up to riko; and beats him. It just pisses me off when Kevin's characters good traits are all ignored in favor of him being labeled as a spinless coward ; when that's not the case. Bravery is not only shit talking or knife swinging to me. And I hate the world coward generally; he's traumatized just as much as the other foxes and other than his rightful fear of riko and actual Yakuza he's not a coward and in the end he does stand up to him/them so he's not even a coward anymore. It shouldn't be such a large part of Kevin's description in the end at least ; by that logic jean is also a coward? And I've never seen someone call him that badly over the years.🤷

#aftg #all for the game #andreil #psu foxes #palmetto state foxes #kevin day #riko moriyama #nathaniel wesninski #jean moreau #edgar allan ravens

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aayakashii · 3 days

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I'm going through the Sinostra chapter right now and I can't stop making theories omg there might be spoilers below so be careful, although I'm just enumerating my questions tbh lol

According to one of Taiga's home screen dialogs, there might be some sort of time loop happening which he's KINDA aware of? Or maybe just aware when triggered somehow.

He said "long time no see! You decide to ditch this future too? Sorry I'm not dead yet" which is INCREDIBLY ooc as to how he behaves during the story which leads me to

His extreme memory loss, which apparently lasts less than 24 hours. Why is that? Did he go through so many time loops that it started affecting his memory? There was one small moment in which he remembered Ritsu because he saw the MC face though...

The Clash. What the fuck was it

What's Taiga relationship to Haru? Haru sounds eerily nonchalant regarding Taiga even though the man keeps on threatening Peekaboo. And aftewards, Rui briefly mentions that Taiga has a "destroying what others hold dear" schtick, which leads me to believe that Taiga is seeking revenge for losing something important maybe???? Is the fanfic brainrot too big rn

WHY DOES HE HATE LIKE DOVES??????? I dont wanna go full romantic mode, but is he just resentful of seeing a bird that is the physical representation of someone else's feelings or something......

The spy. Honestly no idea. There's some theories floating around that Haku is the spy, but I would rather see him during the Hotarubi episode before jumping to conclusions, but it's understandable how people might think that I guess...? He IS very nice and helpful and randomly finding the MC fleeing by train was way too much of a coincidence... he does seem to always tie the MC to Darkwick somehow, firstly by KIDNAPPING her and then by talking her into staying. If the MC is the trigger to a bigger event, then one could see that as suspicious. But I would like a bit more evidence first lol

Back to Taiga, why is he. Like why

Okay no but seriously. If we take the timeloop thing seriously + Haku being a spy, here's the theory:

Taiga knows the MC is the trigger for an awful event and tried killing them back in the Prologue in order to cut the problem on its roots. Haku, if we consider him as the spy, WANTS the event to happen (considering he could also be aware of the loop), which is why he saved us and took us to Darkwick, therefore letting it all play out once again.

If Haku isn't the spy, then we would have to chalk it up as Taiga knowing and trying to kill us, but destiny (???) being a bitch, therefore putting Haku there as a pawn to make things play out again

Maybe the spy can control other ghouls? Who know tbh

Finally, what is going on during the first scene we see in the game? Darkwick on fire and the first character we choose jumping off of the building? I wonder what would happen if we choose Taiga as our first card....... maybe I should create a sub acc

Anyway if anyone has more questions/theories PLEASE SEND THEM MY WAY IM OBSESSED WITH THIS GAME I NEED TO THINK ABT IT

There is also a good theory on reddit made by u/imonlybr16 that states this:

"Before the prologue, when you open the game for the first time, you're greeted with the opening scene involving MC running through the halls of a ruined Darkwick. The question is asked "When the world is collapsing around you, whose hand will you take?"

There you're taken to your character choice screen. The guy you choose is later shown on the railing of a balcony, about to jump off.

Now I think I have a very far fetched and vague idea as to what is going on.

In chapter 2, we learn that the person that Alan killed was Dante or at least he thought he did. But we meet Dante and he's very much alive.

This comes theory number one.

***You can't actually die on campus.***

Note the use of actually here. You can 100% still die, you just end up coming back to life.

If Rui is your home screen he talks about accidentally killing someone else in his dorm and being annoyed with having to lift them back to Obscuary. This struck me as a particularly odd dialogue because Rui's curse causes people to die.

Unless, you can't die on campus.

This would explain Dante pretty much instantly. Yes Alan killed him but yes he's alive.

The campus itself is an anomaly, stopping people from dying doesn't sound too far fetched. I expect this to be revealed with the other two members of Obscuary, as that dorm seems to have a connection to death. One of the things that always pops up is that ghouls aren't immortal, no matter how quickly they heal.

Also explains how Calamari didn't die in chapter 3. Ren ran from the dorm > the caves > the jetty and Calamari was already pretty dehydrated in the beginning.

But OP you might say, aren't all the guys talking like they believe they're going to die.

Luckily, that brings us to vauge and far fetched theory number two.

***The campus is on fire due to a rebellion***

In the very last chapter of the prologue we get to see Kaito's wickhive. There we see three pretty interesting threads.

. There's gonna be an uprising soon

. One of you is a demon

. There's a guy who could see the future

Kaito is surprised at something he sees in this scene but we don't learn what it is. This chapter's 'preview' is one of the scenes we see in the very beginning. Blood and a Lily.

I believe that the first thread is foreshadowing and will . After you meet your chosen guy standing on the railing you get a line of dialogue (or not if you picked Towa) that changes depending on who you picked. Some imply that what they're doing is going to save you(Jiro, Zenji and Sho), some apologize stating that they could protect what they cared about until the very end (Luca,Kaito,Haru and Yuri) but three characters caught my attention

Leo: Life sucks and then you die,right? I just want to make the assholes responsible regret it.

Ren: This is exactly why I didn't to do this! I knew this was how it was going to end.

Subaru: This is all my fault. I don't expect you to forgive me, but this is the least I can do. Please take this as my final act of good faith.

Especially Subaru's and Ren's, that seemingly imply either the MC's (Ren's) or their (Subaru) involvement in the current situation. Now what does this has to do with a potential uprising?

One of the things we learn from the very beginning is the inter-politics of the houses and by extension the ghouls. Especially after the fallout of the clash. Things are pretty tense and an uprising or rebellion seems to be the most likely thing.

As to what happened and why? I have no clue. Though one thing to note is that according to the prophecy, as long as the ghouls are in Darkwick, they prevent a disaster from coming. If Darkwick is destroyed however, the prophecy can't be fulfilled, or can it?"

This is such a good theory too, I really think u/imonlybr16 has probably gotten a lot of things right.

Although it's weird that death is such a big threat to us specifically, but maybe the Academy can't prevent death by curses, much like the Mesmer Matches dont work on someone who's cursed. Hhmm...

#tokyo debunker #haru sagara #taiga hoshibami #rui mizuki #haku kusanagi #sinostra #hotarubi #Jabberwock

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darkdragon768 · 4 months

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Ok so what if I made a pmd original story?

#i think that would be fun #thinking of a team and their quirks #thinking of the world threatening problem #how everything will unfold #yea #sounds like something nice to think about while trying to fall asleep #reborn legends rambling

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nashvillethotchicken · 3 months

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Lestat talking about Louis

#everything here is about him except louis dont take his antidepressants he just find a new person to be obsessed with #interview with the vampire #iwtv #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #i also font think lestat has the good sense to shut the fuck up when threatened in such a manner but evry dog has its day #i think the image of ldpdl dry swallowing 1 1600 mg ibuprofen on an empty stomach makes the most sense in the history of the world #ldpdl is the type of girl to only eat/drink 1 large iced coffee 2 rats and a pack of nicorette for their whole days meal and laugh about it #like girl its not funny you fainted 3 times last week go eat a chicken biscuit or smth #cw for disordered eating patterns #cw eating problems

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lurking-latinist · 8 months

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🐈

#ooh I have a lot of thoughts about Six and Charley and her mysteriousness and how he responds to it #but they intersect with my Six's Mental Health Thoughts which are extremely headcanony #and I know a lot of the fandom would rather just kind of wall off Twin Dilemma and assume Six's proper characterization doesn't include it #and I don't know that I blame them for that #but I like trying to make things fit together #and also there's no way to do that without probably misusing real-world mental health terminology #because (watsonian) the doctor is an alien with an alien brain and (doylist) the writers do not know all that much about psychiatry #but. at least for a bit after his regeneration he deals with paranoia right?#like that's the term the narrative uses. (and it clearly explains his attack on peri - he's perceiving her as a threat due to delusion)#& she says 'I'm not letting a manic depressive paranoid personality like you shut me up' & he objects specifically to 'manic depressive'#later in uhhhh revelation of the daleks? he doesn't tell her about a real danger #and he says 'I didn't want to burden you with what might have been a piece of paranoid speculation on my part'#again I cannot emphasize enough how much I am talking about a fictional character with fictional problems. I do not know psychiatry either!#I do not want to mislead #but one of this character's problems is that he has a badly calibrated sense of danger. sometimes he sees things as threatening that aren't #and sometimes he overcompensates for that #and I think when he first meets Charley he is really not very sure whether he should trust the alarm bells he's hearing or not #she seems deeply suspicious! but also nice? he wants to like her? but deeply suspicious!#'or am I just being crazy?' he asks himself #and so he just kind of... keeps watching her #also unrelatedly to all that I think he kind of likes having the excuse of Mystery for doing what he does anyway which is orbiting her #just slightly obsessing over his companion at the time even if he also occasionally forgets they're there #(he's just very all or nothing in everything all the time)#but yeah. you know how 11 gets about Clara and her Mystery Plotline? 6 is like that about every companion in turn anyway #so he doesn't actually mind having the excuse of Mystery with Charley #this is also why 6 and Clara is so compelling #(this was a tag essay in response to lrb but I decided it was opening too many cans of worms and needed its own post)

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homeless202 · 1 year

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the first time EY "stole" those headphones, the shop owner didn't have any proof it was him. despite this, he insisted on calling his dad, proposed to call the cops, and showed very little sympathy for a child literally getting beaten up by their father right in front of him.

-> why?

he felt disrespected bc of how EY talked to him. it stopped being abt the headphones before his dad even arrived. he just wanted to see the kid who disrespected him shut up, apologize, and admit he was wrong. especially considering how many people were watching and talking abt their argument -> gotta save face and restore your credibility & pride.

this is why, in a way, his dad wasn't wrong to tell him to apologize bc he knew that's what the shop owner wanted to hear. sometimes, the quickest way to solve the issue is to give the person what they want (in this case, an apology) and walk away.

#this fragile pride and entitlement to respect that (especially old) people feel drives. me. cRaZy.#people who spiral and feel threatened the moment they lose the upper hand or aren't treated the way they think they should be.#i remember the shit i got from my dad bc an older distant relative i never see told him i didn't tell her 'good morning' when i woke up #like bro if that's the type of shit that gets u upset u've got bigger problems than my Not Awake Ass telling u hi in the morning #it's the power trip. it's the need to gain back control when someone's words or behavior don't match the norm & therefore your expectations #<- most humans living in a society will freak out when you don't follow the social script or when the clean-cut label boxes get messed with #the panic your poor pride suffers when reality doesn't fit your personal world view and you have to admit u were wrong.#the entitlement tho...that shit kills me. i don't care abt ur age or achievements or status etc. -> respect needs to be <earned>#i want to see you do sth worthy of my respect. good luck🫡#<- summarized: i hate boomers (and entitled old ppl in general)#i'm writing this at 3am i'm sry for rambling #no home #no home manhwa #집이 없어 #webtoon #eunyung baek #meta #stealing arc #details #multipart #!! i'm not defending his dad !! <- fuck that guy. i'm just pointing out that his logic wasn't wrong given the situation #even if he had different intentions when he said it

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faecaeli · 2 years

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can not STAND the amount of radfem posts that have show up on my dash "based on my likes" because i've liked posts related to feminism. like what in the world. i should be able to like a quote from bell hooks or a post on reproductive rights and not have this wild and hateful terf shit pop up

#just had a post pop up where the OP was saying drag was similar to blackface #so now i have to deal with my anger about that for the rest of my life #all bc this platforms shit algorithm facilitates extremist thinking and radicalization #as if all women and transfolk arent struggling enough irl huh #fucking all these ppl need to go outside and see whats happening in the world to trans people like........ get off the internet and wake up #how do you look at the trans community and go oh yes! the reason for our oppression!#girl you are looking in completely the wrong direction #you have all the reason to be mad when it comes to the horrible endless misogyny in our world #but how is blaming this very small and widely unaccepted community going to help your cause #its the oldest trick in the fuckin book #u cant scapegoat the minority and make your problems go away #thats just a fast track to violence #like if yall are really interested in feminism why aren't you spending more time looking to men in power #vs people who are already struggling to be themselves in a way that DEFIES the gender norms that you claim to hate and rally against sfm??#gnc people are not threatening your 'womanhood' u just gotta fucking chill #dont u want to build a future BASED on your sex being of less importance? isn't that the whole damn point?#that our differences are acknowledged and celebrated and accommodated #not used against us #like... c'mon #so full of shit #show me the real feminists on this site who actually care about women and building a better future for everyone #and wanna have real convos rooted in compassion for one another

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bluesofasalamence · 10 months

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It feels kinda annoying seeing posts about the NRA when they haven’t been politically relevant for the past 10 years, and even more annoying when liberals blame the NRA for not being able to pass gun control

like. the NRA has only 5 million members. Over 100 million people in the US have guns. They literally represent less than 5% of all gun owners, if they vanished or went bankrupt tomorrow liberals still wouldn’t be able to pass gun control because gun owners are one of the most politically active groups out there and they’re not interested on becoming felons overnight because of liberals passing ineffective laws that ban certain guns based on aesthetics and doubling the police budget instead of trying to help the average citizen so they don’t have to go to crime to make ends meet

This whole story of “Those things are hard to do, passing gun contrrol is much easier” sounds completely untrue every day that passes

#guns #politics #nra #gun control #frankly I'm a commie who dislikes most gun control because 90% of the time it's those two things I mentioned #I also live in a country where gun control is largely ineffective to the point where the average gang has illegal assault rifles #the average civilian getting a gun here is extremely difficult #and we still have more murders than the US #and every time I say this liberals reply with 'of course you have more murders your country is a 3rd world shithole'#wow thanks glad to know you're just racist #imo one of the big problems with this whole gun control thing is the fact people don't associate it with law enforcement #people will straight up say 'acab' and 'we need more gun control' in the same fucking sentence as if cops aren't the ones who enforce it #like #who do you think will arrest people for having 'illegal' guns?#the tooth fairy?#no #it's the police #it's always the police #and they will always conveniently forget to arrest a bunch of nazis for stockpiling weapons and threatening to commit mass shootings #and will instead stop and frisk every minority in a 'bad' neighborhood for 'illegal' weapons #you guys need massive police reform before you try to tackle taking guns away from dangerous people #because cops are in bed with those dangerous people and until you realize that you won't be able to fix anything #idk I'm just rambling I don't wanna start a big argument #I just wish people were more responsible with what they're arguing for

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augustinewrites · 3 months

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cw: it’s just angst

“i’m not mad.”

satoru closes and locks the front door, trailing after you into the kitchen, apprehension rising in the space kept between you. “really? because you seem kind of mad…”

“it’s fine, gojo.” you snap. “i’m fine.”

he watches you, quiet as the two of you go about your evening routine. leftovers from meals brought to the infirmary stowed away. week-old laundry tossed into the basket. you don’t say a word to him, emotions you don’t know how to make sense of still simmering.

“i’m sorry,” he says plainly as you’re both putting away the dishes.

you wipe your hands on the tea towel, glancing over at him. “do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

he shifts, unsure. “no…”

“of course you don’t,” you sigh.

“then tell me,” he insists, exasperated. “i don’t want to fight.”

“i don’t want to either,” you snap. “but you’re doing it again.”

“doing what?”

“you just spent a week in the infirmary. you were hurt.”

“c’mon,” he laughs weakly. “there was no real chance of me dying.”

“that’s not the—” you voice rises, then immediately quiets when you realize the kids are asleep. “that’s not the point. you’re losing yourself in it again. soon you’re going to drift away from us— from me,” you tell him, bleeding into the pain you’ve felt the last few days. “like you did when we were in school.”

because for as long as you’d known gojo, his drive was to constantly do more. be more. the period of time after the failure that was the star plasma vessel mission was the first time you’d witnessed it. gojo satoru doesn’t do anything halfway. he won’t permit himself to.

that’s what really scares you. he doesn’t know when to stop.

“i’m sorry that i worried you,” he apologizes, sincerity etched into his expression. you know him, know that he’s scared to say the wrong thing, that he’ll mess this up or somehow make it worse. “i had to. the higher ups—”

“satoru,” you interrupt, walls crumbling right in front of him. “i’ve always liked that you care about the jujutsu world. i just don’t want you to only care about it. not with where we are in our lives right now.”

“i don’t—”

“you do! you always have, and i get it. i know the world needs you…but things are getting worse, and we need to start thinking about the future—”

“everything i’m doing is for the future. for the future generation of sorcerers all over the world—”

“i don’t care about the world! i just care about you, and that’s the problem. one person always cares more in a relationship and that’s always been me.”

“that’s not true,” he insists, a desperate edge in his voice. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve never needed is you—”

“i need you too! maybe that sounds selfish or needy, but i don’t want there to be a day where i have to tell the kids that you’re not coming home. if you can’t understand that—”

he doesn’t think you realize you’re crying, frustrated tears gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill over. satoru reaches for you out of instinct, your argument the furthest thing from both your minds at this moment. you let him pull you into his arms, let him hold you.

but you’re exhausted.

this is fight you’ve been having since the moment you’d met him, and you don’t think he’ll understand the impact of it until you walk away.

“if you don’t understand that,” you continue softly, “then maybe we need to take a break.”

_____

outside the apartment door, nanami and shoko sit side by side, sharing a bottle of "welcome home" wine.

"guess they forgot we were coming over," the doctor mutters, pressing her ear against the door to see if jujutsu tech's favourite couple was still fighting. “it’s way too quiet in there. you think she killed him?”

nanami sighs, loosening his tie. “it’s quite possible.”

“i’ll be the alibi and you’ll get rid of the body?”

“of course.”

#fushigojo breakup fic part one #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #keeping up with the fushigojos #jjk angst

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myname-isnia · 1 year

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My sleep schedule's a bit messed up after a week of holiday and I can't fall asleep at a reasonable time while at my grandma's, so obviously I'm once again being plagued by my favourite kind of brain rot

Currently thinking about how there must have been a small moment of peace, a few weeks maybe, before Zaheer's breakout starts having major consequences but after Kuviren figure their shit out and everyone warms up to each other, where the Kids can relax and take a breather and act like the teenagers they never got to be

Because yes, I'm standing by what I said, none of the kids ever got to be actual teenagers:

Suiren had to grow up quickly after the loss of her parents. Her whole childhood was spent taking the brunt of Haya's violence, always aching, always hungry, with no one to turn to. The world's not fair, she learned quickly. You've got to help yourself because no one else will. You have to get Midori out of here. She trained herself not to cry, not to need as much food, not to require comfort. As she entered her teens, her childhood self had already starved to death. By the time she turned 13, she was already weary and burdened and exhausted, with no hopes for the future. By 15 she dropped out of school, and her only friends all that time were her sister and her moose lion. She can't think of anything but protecting Midori. No job in Gaoling will take her, deterred by her lack of schooling, her swamp heritage and what Haya had said about her. But money has to be earned somehow. Most girls like her end up in brothels, but she knows her prodigious waterbending skills could be put to a different use. By 17 she's an assassin, spending hours in the shower trying to scrub away the blood that is no longer there, focusing on nothing but the next mission, slicing the throats of those young girls with sparkling golden brown eyes that sometimes show up in the corners of her vision. The supposed carefree teenage years that she was owed are now way beyond her understanding.

Midori is not as weighed down with the weight of the world as Suiren, but she had her youth stolen as a consequence of what happened at the South Pole all those years ago too. Her trauma – Haya yelling at her for the slightest mistake, always calling her a useless child, calling her weak and a whiny brat for showing emotions natural to any child in her situation – left her extremely anxious, so quiet it's very easy to forget she's even there. Children are meant to be seen and not heard. And then there's the guilt, knowing full well her sister skips meals for her, takes punishments for her, endures beatings for her, no matter how hard Suiren tries to hide it. Midori hit puberty already wishing she was never born, maybe then Suiren's burden would have been alleviated. All of that in turn made it impossible for her to make friends, not to mention everyone knowing that her sister is the swamp freak, and their aunt's endless list of chores practically kept her chained at the house so she couldn't go out even if she had the chance to. She spent her 17th birthday fully aware her parents are out there, and allowed herself a childish hope that they'll be reunited, just like she always wished for thirteen long, horrible years. But her parents were killed within weeks afterwards. The day they got the news of their demise was the day she knew there was no going back. The day she knew that she was now an adult.

Bolin was protected by Mako for most of his life, ever since his parents were murdered when he was six, but even with his brother always looking out for him, what kind of childhood is living on the streets, running errands for triads? Still, out of the hundreds of homeless children in Republic City, he and Mako are the lucky ones, they were discovered and taken in by that probending trainer. But nothing in Republic City comes for free, and the two of them just so happen to make up two thirds of a team. His early teenage years were, he realises now, wasted, training in probending all day, every day. They go out on the field in every match they can but are still barely getting enough in earnings to scrape by, and life is only bearable because they can stay unconditionally in that room above the arena. He adores probending, the love and attention from his fans, but more often than not wishes he was part of the groups of friends that come to watch the games instead. He meets Korra at 16 and within the year has to witness her almost die three times, and despite all that training he was near powerless to stop it. After that was all over, he enlisted in Kuvira's army at 17, trying to get rid of that feeling of helplessness by deciding to help fix the mess created in the world during that year. But a soldier cannot be a child, and a child cannot be a soldier.

Kuvira's childhood ended the day her parents abandoned her at Suyin's front gate and never looked back, leaving her with nothing but the clothes on her back and a small sack of belongings. All for sometimes acting out, a result of them never paying her any attention as well as her possessing stronger bending than she could handle. It was easier to label her a problem child and get rid of her than to realise the cause of the issue. Suyin was different from her parents, extremely impressed by Kuvira's bending skills, to the point she made her her protege, and Kuvira, so unused to the praise, threw herself headfirst into making Suyin proud. Bending, dancing, training... It took up all of her free time, but as long as she gained Suyin's approval, she found that she didn't care. What use would she have for that much free time anyway? She's 17 and already made captain of the Zaofu guard as well as named the best dancer in the troupe. Some say it's because she's Suyin's prized pupil, but no one can deny that her metalbending is outstanding. But she never has time to hang out with the girls from the dance team or her comrades from the guard, and she pretends it doesn't matter to her, but she secretly yearns for that feeling of belonging. She sacrificed her teenagehood to make Suyin proud, and after all of that, despite everything Kuvira did, Suyin still doesn't consider her a daughter.

Opal is easily the most privileged of the five, being born into one of the wealthiest Earth Kingdom families does come with its perks, after all. But those grand metal domes of her home city that opened like flowers every morning were nothing more than gilded cages to her. Once it became obvious she wasn't a bender, her mother lost interest, happy to let her do as she pleased as long as she upheld the family image. It doesn't matter what hobby she chooses, nothing she achieves will be enough to rectify that her lack of bending brought an end to the rather short-lived Beifong dynasty of strong earthbending women. But she has to focus on something. Baatar shares their father's love for engineering, Huan has his art, the twins are total momma's boys with their metalbending games, Opal has nothing and no one. Somehow, even while distracted, her mother managed to keep her close enough that Opal could never meet someone without their first impression of her being through her mother's lens. She turned to books to cope with the loneliness, always dreaming of a life away from Zaofu. She's freshly 17 when she got it, but what started as a dream come true quickly turned into a nightmare once the northern air temple was attacked by the Red Lotus. Her childhood innocence and belief in the good of the world died somewhere within that cave.

My point is, the five of them deserve to act like teenagers, to gain back what they lost. Let Suiren rebel, let Midori make friends, let Bolin have fun, let Kuvira relax, let Opal express herself, LET THEM BE KIDS

And I just love to imagine what they'd get up to in that moment of peace. Maybe they gather together, a bit away from the RL, and play dumb games like Fuck Marry Kill. Playing with Kuvira is always a challenge because she knows exactly which buttons to push, which is how she got Suiren to say, through gritted teeth and lots of cursing, that she'd marry Mako, because the other two options were Suyin and Unalaq and she's a distinguished lesbian and not fucking a man thank you very much.

Maybe they go out in the early hours of the morning and climb to the top of the rocks hiding the cabin from view to watch the sun rise over Republic City. Maybe their games of truth or dare get so intense you wouldn't want to be caught in the middle of one. Maybe while on supply runs one of them sneaks some alcohol, and they proceed to nearly kill Bolin when he suggests playing spin the bottle. Maybe they go skinny dipping in the lake. Maybe they find secluded spots to practice and figure out how their bending all works together. Maybe they try to figure out ways to hide the hickeys Suiren leaves on Kuvira. Maybe they make fun of how Green Opal become blushy messes near each other. Maybe if preserving secrecy and anonymity wasn't such a big concern they'd sneak off to attend festivals in small surrounding towns. Maybe after long days they collapse and sleep in one big pile together. And maybe the RL know full well what the five of them are doing, but given that they're anarchists and naturally lax with rules, they decide to just let them do what they want, all the while reminiscing on everything they got up to as teenagers.

The five of them are in their early to mid twenties and about to become the third generation of the Red Lotus setting out to try and change the world, hopefully with more success than their predecessors. But maybe, before they do, they'll get to act like dumb, careless teenagers like they were always meant to, just one last time.

#this took me literally three hours to type out #why did i do it my god there are only two people max who care #the sky is getting light please kill me #but okay let's tag this properly #i took some creative liberties with some of the backstories bc lok has a problem with not fleshing out their characters #so i think i can do what i want #okay? okay #and when it comes to backstories...#alexa play seventeen by marina #take a wild guess how old I'm turning lmao #and also i realise a lot of this will never happen between these guys bc of all their issues #and also that they just broke out zaheer and the world leaders have already lost their shit #but hey #a not-a-girl can dream right #also it's my fic universe and i do what I want #fucking sue me #also yes #opal 100% has trauma from the last three episodes of book 3 #and it will 100% get addressed when I get to writing that part #especially since ming-hua who literally threatened her with ice bending is her future mother in law #they'll sort it out though don't worry #OKAY TAG RANT DONE I'M GOING TO BED BEFORE THE SUN RISES SO LONG FAREWELL AUF WIEDERSEIN GOODBYE #seeds of the red lotus #sotrl suiren #sotrl midori #bolin #kuvira #opal beifong #kuviren #green opal

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dadsbongos · 8 months

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then, and again, and once more

6.9k words

Summary - Yuuji tries to impress you and win your heart, with the help of Sukuna… who seems weirdly knowledgeable about and interested in you.

Warnings - p in v sex, FULL NELSON BABY!!!, yuuji eats pussy :), oh yeah fem reader btw, sukuna is here too (and his cannibalism is mentioned), idiot friends pining for each other, very vague timeline idk but yuuji is aged up

sukuna-centric part 2

There it is again.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

That unbearable thick bass in his chest, banging so tirelessly against his ribs that it threatens to make him nauseous. A quick inhale and yep - scratch that - he’s definitely already nauseous.

Yuuji sinks his sweaty palms deeper into his pants pockets, eyes darting sharply down to his beaten sneakers. The once vibrant ruby shade is now marred by dirt and aging threads - and if he turns his right foot just so, then he can see an old, blackened stain from pizza sauce he spilled while eating out with you. The memory, or more specifically how you’re giggling in his memory, makes him smile.

And in the real world, Megumi is watching his friend grin ear to ear while looking at a black, crusty splotch on the inside curve of his right shoe. After having just wide-eyed stared at you from across the room while you and Nobara heatedly debate where to go for dinner.

He glares at Yuuji, lashes narrowing, “You look insane. Knock it off.”

That snaps the boy from his reminiscing, and it takes him three long seconds before he registers the insult, “I was thinking!”

“Obviously,” Megumi scratches the side of his nose, more to just have something to do with his hands than anything else, “What were you thinking about?”

Humming quietly to himself, Yuuji shrugs, “Oh, the usual.”

“You’re hopeless,” Megumi maintains his efforts to keep his hands busy by scratching the back of his head, “Just tell her already. What’s the worst that happens?”

“She rejects me and avoids me,” Yuuji pouts, “Honestly, ‘gumi, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic - being a standoffish and awkward guy yourself.”

Swatting at his friend’s shoulder, Megumi shakes his head, “The hell is wrong with you? Was that just sitting in your mind?” he shakes his head again, glare growing stronger, “And don’t call me that.”

“I thought you had anxiety or something,” Yuuji shrugs, “Why else would you be so weird in public?”

Any previous concern regarding Yuuji’s well-being immediately flies from Megumi at that. He folds his arms across his chest with murmurs of hatred floating out from his lips. All as he waltzes over to where you and Nobara are seated around your laptop at the chipping hardwood table.

Yuuji has no problem shrugging off Megumi's irritation, but when it comes to the mere idea of your face stretching in disgust at him - God, isn’t that the worst?

“You’re the worst, brat,” comes that rumbling, terrible voice in the back of his head. The nagging used to sound more like him - and when he’s really stressed, it still sometimes does - but now his own voice has faded into the King of Curses’. Now his own voice is sweeter, more prone to praise and positives - in a weird way, Sukuna has made Yuuji better.

But in a lot more ways -

“Oi, don’t ignore me.”

He’s made Yuuji’s life so much worse.

“You like that one, right? I can help.”

You’re sitting back, allowing Megumi to take the reins on shooting down Nobara’s suggestion for sushi. Normally, that demand isn’t a problem, but this would be the fifth night in a row she’s tried roping you all into ordering sushi for her. You lean into Megumi a little, and Yuuji hates the way his chest tightens at the display.

It isn’t even affection. It’s just…

“You want to be the one she’s on, right?”

Yuuji sighs to himself and sneaks out of the kitchen, though it’s hardly a challenge when Nobara raises her voice to defend her long-lasting cravings.

With tense shoulders and a red face, Yuuji glances down each side of the hall to ensure nobody is nearby, “How could you help with this?”

Sukuna’s eye on Yuuji’s cheek has flitted up to stare into Yuuji’s, and that sickly crawl of his skin stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s wide grin makes his stomach turn, “You’re just a child, you don’t know anything about women.”

Yuuji could double over, hands on his knees and breathless in sputters of laughter, but he refrains - unwilling to let anyone hear his schizophrenic ramblings, “And you do?”

Sukuna’s eye rolls and Yuuji hates the way it feels under his cheekbone, nearly retching in response, “Of course.”

And that strings up some different terrible question in Yuuji, “But why would you help me?”

Sukuna has been so unwilling to do anything useful for Yuuji despite the fact he’s allowed to reside in this body - so what could possibly possess him to do this now?

“Do you want my help or not, worm?”

Yuuji sighs through his nose, eyes fluttering shut, thinking hard about the offer. He’d come to the conclusion not too long after swallowing his first finger to simply not question many of Sukuna’s motives, mostly since his goals are: chaos, women, and chaos.

“This better not be some gross pass at my friend,” Yuuji sneers, body electrified on the ready to smack down his own cheek should he hear an answer he doesn’t like.

Sukuna is too quiet for too long, and Yuuji is fully prepared to swipe at the parasite on his face when finally, that deep voice rattles again. It buzzes in his flesh, uncomfortable and itchy and so quiet he barely hears what the curse mumbles into him.

The boy pauses and lets the words melt on his tongue, he turns them between his molars and laves the roof of his mouth with the remaining implications. He wasn’t expecting Sukuna to be honest, not to that degree at least.

And Yuuji smacks Sukuna’s bulbous eye down anyway.

“Fine then,” Yuuji pulls his hand down and curls his fingers into a fist, another great big awful ragged sigh roughing over his tongue like barbed wire, “I’ll listen to you, but if you ruin this for me- “

“Calm down, brat,” the mouth pops back up stubbornly, bitterly spitting out his version of a promise, “I don’t plan on failing.”

Yuuji pushes himself off the wall and spins back into the kitchen unnoticed, hands locking behind his head as he saddles up beside you at the table, “So, what’s for dinner?”

He snorts at how you groan, looking up at him from your seat with tired, low-lidded eyes and gesturing across the table to where Megumi and Nobara are still arguing, “You tell me.”

“Why don’t we just go out?” Yuuji shrugs, grinning broadly despite the way his two friends both twitch their necks over to glare at him, “Come on, it’s not even dark! We can walk around and do a little looking; get some air!”

Nobara’s pitched shoulders drop, pinched expression falling into her usual lax, she looks over at Megumi again with a raised brow. Megumi shrugs, his own eyebrows still scrunched together, “If it’s fine with you two, I don’t care.”

You snicker, standing up against the stiff wood supports of the chair legs, one elbow digging into the table to further help hold you up while your spare fingers dance up to smooth out the crinkled space, “I think it’ll be fun.”

Megumi snatches you by the wrist and tosses your hand to the side while Nobara hops down from her own chair, stretching out her back until it pops obnoxiously. She’s already bouncing out of the kitchen to snag her shoes before shouting back, “Well, come on! We’re on a timer now, people!”

“Jeez,” you slip off the chair pegs, bumping slightly into Yuuji’s side - entirely oblivious to the sparkly fireworks you sweep across your poor friend’s body at the contact, “Should’ve just suggested that from the start, huh?”

Shrugging, Yuuji waits for you to begin walking out of the kitchen before following, “Sometimes you just need fresh eyes on a situation, you know?”

“I guess,” you fold your arms, evidently frustrated, “Just feel like that was something I should’ve seen.”

Yuuji feels that disgusting, familiar thumping in his chest just by looking at you now. Heat radiating from his cheeks to the expanse of his chest, throat swelling with the uncomfortable need to spill his guts - dump every little thought and feeling he’s ever had for you into your ears until you force him to shut up. Like how he can’t even look at Jennifer Lawrence the way he used to simply because she isn’t you.

Maybe then he’d tell you that this hasn’t happened in the six years since he first saw Silver Linings Playbook. Maybe you’d tell him to stop talking, and that you two would never happen.

Maybe then he can move on, when you crush his hope. But he doesn’t really want that.

And he doesn’t really know why he agreed to let Sukuna lend him any advice.

Oh well.

It’s when you’re rushing out the door to keep up with Megumi and Nobara that Sukuna opens his mouth for the first time.

His voice stabs into Yuuji’s ears, but it isn’t exceptionally as cruel as he usually finds it, this, instead, is purely instructional, “When you two are out tonight, tell her about that cat you saw around the garden today.”

Yuuji scratches through his messily filed memories, “I saw a cat?”

“Yes, twit, a black one. Tell her about how its fur changed color in the sun.”

“Okay…?” Yuuji huffs in his daze, finally putting effort into walking alongside you and the others, “Hey! So, I just remembered something.”

“Oh yeah?” you smile at Yuuji, purely encouraging, and he’s disgusted at the way he almost trips over his own feet.

Nobara and Megumi pay the both of you little mind, instead pointing out different potential favorite hotspots they could creep into for the night. Well, Nobara points out, they could even stop at two places if they’re feeling adventurous. And Megumi says they can do whatever the rest of you think is best.

But Yuuji isn’t listening, and you’re hardly lending an ear, he swallows down the rock in his throat and nods, “I saw a cat this morning - a black one! - and it made me think of you,” the gentle warmth spreading through him could either be the way you’re lighting up at him, or Sukuna silently congratulating his good line, “Its fur was all brownish red in the sun, it was…” your eyes are so starry and sweet, solely on him - it makes his tongue tie up in knots, “It was beautiful.”

“Bummer I wasn’t there, then,” you pout a little, “You need to get me for things like that!” he laughs at the way your face has morphed, all stern and strict business, “Seriously!”

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, both hands up in playful defense, “I promise to call you if I see another cat.”

“Could’ve at least taken a picture for me,” you histrionically sigh, “And I thought we were friends.”

A sudden thought invades the back of Yuuji’s mind. Some hidden, more primal part of his mind that he doesn’t usually listen to flashes back to a time he doesn’t remember.

We used to be more.

You and him are sitting out in the sun with a fluffy little Bombay cat tucked into your lap. It paws at the buttery dandelions that bloom between you both, his own legs are sprawled out impolitely and your own are crossed to wall around the feline in your hold. His knee knocks against yours whenever he shifts his leg. You lean in, shoulder digging into the meat of his muscled arm and temple resting on his shoulder.

Your body is entirely at ease. His is, too.

Yuuji knows exactly where the thought comes from. And if that dark, creepy place weren’t so infested by evil then maybe he’d feel a little pity for it. But you’re in front of him now, and you’re excited to be here, and your pinky keeps knocking into his as you two walk side-by-side - so there’s no room for pity in his heart.

Your quartet winds up squished into a teal leather booth towards a back corner of Nobara’s selected diner. You and Nobara sit on the interior seats, pressed into the windows, with Yuuji and Megumi caging the both of you in. Megumi having shoved Yuuji down next to you before the boy could even see who was where.

“What were you thinking?” Nobara sits up, jabbing your arm with a manicured finger just to annoy you.

Flicking at her hand, you shrug, focusing on the boards plastered behind the front bar counter for any eye-catching special offers.

Yuuji can feel the tightening of his cheek skin as the eyeball threatens to pop out, it stings when his cheek is forced to split for Sukuna’s eye. His cheek below that parts as well for his lips.

And Sukuna is kind enough this once to be quiet, “Tell her to get the wildfowl bowl,” as if sensing his arising questions, Sukuna continues, “And tell the kitchen worms to make sure the vegetables are soft. Not well, not sturdy,” he sounds disgusted as he says it, “Soft.”

“Hey,” and against everything he’s been told by Gojo, Yuuji puts his entire trust into the curse inside him, “that wildfowl bowl looks good, right?”

You lean closer to Yuuji, arm brushing his as you try to see where he spotted that, “What’s in it? Duck?”

He gives a conformational hum even though he has no idea, “Probably good with soft vegetables.”

Megumi shakes his head, “What does that even mean?”

“When they steam the veggies for longer than usual,” you pat Yuuji’s shoulder while defending him, “I get what you mean, Itadori. Sorry Fushiguro is so judgemental.”

“I was just saying…” Megumi’s voice flutters out of Yuuji’s focus.

Instead, another memory he never made begins to flourish from that black, mushy, rotted back of his brain.

You’re sat in his lap, large thighs perfectly bracketing around your own. A neglected bowl of slim slivers of perfectly browned duck meat sits atop cooling rice, carrots, and green beans. No doubt soft and easy to chew. In your hands is a steaming bowl, larger than the one in your lap, weighed down by thick cuts of juicy meat slabs. Almost like steak, but there’s no outer hide tanned by flame. It’s red, almost raw, and even after trimming the fat - it’s still bathed in pink, fleshy trails.

Grinning so lovingly, you pinch the slabs with your bare fingers and merely giggle when Sukuna’s sharp teeth prick at your skin. His long tongue works to clean your fingers of the excess meat juices as he eats. Two of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady, a third is steadied beside him against the cold bone of his throne, and a fourth resides at the back of your head. Almost big enough to palm the whole of your skull like a children’s ball - he pats and pets and smooths his fingers over the slope of the back of your neck.

Preening under gentle attention, you’re sure to empty Sukuna’s bowl before picking your own back up.

People watch with blood at their feet, none dare to move. Fearful to become the next hot meal in your hand should they disobey Sukuna’s silent command.

As your hands wrap around your cold bowl, a deep grunt reverberates behind you in Sukuna’s broad chest. He tugs the dish from your grasp; plucks the duck meat between his forefinger and thumb and holds it above your nose, forcing you to look up.

He waves it in front of your face, “Open,” and you follow his order, lips parting yet still pitched up in the impression of a pleased smile. And when he flattens the meat to your tongue and you begin chewing - you’re still smiling. That earns another fond stroke down the back of your head, pausing at your shoulder and digging his thumb into the muscle just to hear you sigh, “Good girl.”

Yuuji doesn’t see all of that. He can grasp some vague sense that you two have shared meals he’ll never get to taste, but he never sees the gristle left behind on your fingers or the saliva webbed between your fingers after feeding Sukuna.

That - Sukuna ‘hmph's proudly as he watches you beam at Yuuji over your modern interpretation of your favorite meal - the King of Curses keeps to himself. Selfishly, just as he always has.

That next morning, you sheepishly prattle into the dusty, creaky classroom with only four rusty, barely used desks and slip into the one by Yuuji. You’re toying with the tips of your hair, eyes bouncing from where Yuuji sits on the desktop beside you and the classroom door.

Nobara sits backward at the desk directly in front of you, arms coiled around the back support of her chair as she speaks and Megumi sits normally beside her - attention solely on his book. Yuuji watches you fiddle with the ends of your hair while pretending to listen to Nobara.

And then he sees it. The new cherry shade decorating your lips, and before Sukuna can sprout and tell him to - Yuuji’s leaning down with his best smile, “New lipstick?”

Jumping at the sudden voice, your rigid posture melts under the boy’s gaze, “Yes, actually. You like?”

It could be puke green and Yuuji would still want it smeared across his face from your kisses.

But despite housing Sukuna Ryomen and battling dreadful curses, Yuuji fails to muster the courage to say that to your face, “Yeah! It’s really pretty.”

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

There goes your annoying heart, hammering just from the sound of Yuuji’s overtly positive lilt. It makes your cheeks burn and fingers skittishly tip-tap against the pencil-scratched desk, “You think so?”

But he’d never lie, you know that.

So even though it shouldn’t be a surprise when he doubles down, your annoying heart won’t stop dramatically tossing itself around when Yuuji nods with a determined, boyish grin, “Definitely.”

It’s all so saccharine and perfect, it makes Sukuna nauseous. Which, in turn, makes Yuuji nauseous.

Face paling, Yuuji jumps onto his feet and excuses himself, rushing out of the room (with no Gojo even in sight, by the way) towards the bathroom.

“Is he okay?” Nobara murmurs, stretching her neck to see outside the door frame, “What a weirdo.”

“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily, “He is sometimes, huh?”

Megumi gags at your tone, “Seriously…?”

“What was that?” Yuuji’s question is spikey and venomous while he stares into the cracked, water-spotted mirror - straight at the little eyeball on his cheek.

“You two are disgusting,” Sukuna stares back into the glass, low-lidded and unimpressed, “Get this over with and ask her out, brat.”

“But what if she says no?” Yuuji reaches up and toys with the little pink hairs at the back of his head, eyes suddenly unable to meet Sukuna at all, “It’ll totally ruin everything.”

“Enough whining. She won’t say no.”

He doesn’t know how it took so long to recognize, or maybe he just needed an excuse to display his old, unbroken knowledge of you before your fleshly little weakling friends even knew it. But he’s seen the little bursts of color and stars and sparkles and all that cute mess before.

He’s seen it many times. It was the only way you used to look at Sukuna.

That puppyish, lovesick wonder as you fluttered your pretty eyelashes at him.

Even when he would return to you in blood and sweat and muck and smelling of the death and despair he expertly wrought.

You were always at least five paces ahead of Uraume, hands bunching up in the pretty flowing silks that decorated your body. Excitedly, you’d pounce and he would hold you. Sapping up your energy and feeding off the way you’d press cherry-tasting kisses all along his hardened face. You served yourself up to him on a silver platter, all your heart and soul and mind devoted entirely and without ulterior motives. That’s why you were always his favorite.

Nothing before or after you was ever up to par. And he felt disgruntled at every turn into different worshippers and concubines and lovers - somehow wronged simply by the fact they were not as you were. It was all so disappointing.

And every now and again he’d flash back to you while with others. He imagines it’s how children feel when they remember a lost or broken or tossed-out favorite toy. That ache of times lost and never feeling quite fulfilled again.

Which is why when he saw you again through this brat’s eyes, he could instantly remember those nights with you. Full-bellied and raw-lipped and your pulse between his teeth.

But Yuuji knows nothing of that, and so when he returns to the classroom - neither of you says anything.

It’s only the two of you. Everyone else was cast out in the violent, unwilling acceptance that they had done all they could. With no open wound, there was a horrific list rattled off in Sukuna’s ears. Illnesses and infections that attacked the lungs and nervous system and skin and heart - things that would eat you alive from the inside. And when all could be done about that, you remained in bed.

In and out of consciousness and delusional, proclaiming twisted lights and shadowy creatures trying to rip you from yourself.

Perhaps, one of the women called to care for you shyly spoke up, perhaps she’s just too old.

And that was something he avoided admitting to himself.

But it was time now.

With dew still moist on the blades of grass and morning sunlight streaming through the window beside your bed - the bell tolls. Your fingers are stiff in the sheets, limbs cold and stiff when you’re found. Wide, puppylike eyes gaze up at the ceiling and Sukuna has you buried beneath the tallest, most twisted tree he could find in the surrounding forest. And when Sukuna returns from your grave that night - alone - he crosses into a dark tunnel.

It’s cold and solid beneath his feet, paces echoing back for his ears. He keeps his eyes down to avoid maddening himself over the plainness - the displeasure of even glimpsing this tunnel’s repetitive nature.

Until there’s light, golden, with the shrouded, clumsy shape of twisted branches and lanky trunks coming into view at the far open end.

And faintly, like the sweet singing of a beloved music box, he hears the tune of your voice. A high scoop towards the end.

“Itadori, right?”

Sukuna’s feet move faster before he even fully knows he’s moving.

On the other side is you, a hand jammed out in front of you in a polite wave - as if the both of you are strangers. Then that name creeps back up his spine.

Well, it’s not truly his spine, is it? It’s this new brat’s.

But then there’s your honeyed voice again, “Huh, third eye.”

Right. You wouldn’t remember it, would you?

You wouldn’t remember any of it.

Yuuji shoots up, dark sheets tangled around his ankles and cold sweat beading down his forehead - strings of pink hair matted down to his skin uncomfortably. His wide eyes scramble across the shadows of his room, slowly refamiliarizing himself with the expanse and soothing his pounding heart.

He smoothes back his hair, running through the small kinks and knots, “What the hell was that?”

That slicing pain along his cheek shocks him awake further, but no sore, deep voice follows. The eye sits there, downcast. Sitting inside this body is one of the last things he saw for himself, but to exist beside you again is liquid gold just flowing in a river. A river his new body refuses to swim in.

“She’s still awake.”

Yuuji looks over to the red numbers lighting up from his bedside alarm clock, “It’s midnight.”

Sukuna inhales sharply, irritation scorching a hole in his tongue, but he withholds the many sudden hateful thoughts he has towards Yuuji and simply repeats himself, “She’s still awake.”

“It’s weird how obsessed you are with this,” Yuuji swings his legs over the edge of his bed and slips his feet into the slippers you’d gifted him. They’re cheesy and themed after fire engines and just barely fit, but he wears them at any given opportunity.

The eye sinks back into his skin, lips sealing shut, and a thick sludge boils in Yuuji’s stomach. Quiet King of Curses is an unsettling King of Curses, and Yuuji barely finds himself able to tune out the exhaustive wave of Sukuna’s criticisms. That is much preferred to this buzzing silence.

Creeping down the moaning wooden panels to your room, Yuuji raps his knuckles against your door before immediately shuffling his fists into his gray sweatpants.

Something clatters against hardwood, sheets ruffle, and your footsteps thump, thump, thump up to your bedroom door. Your face peeks out from the sliver of cracked doorway, and there’s no hint of sleep in your gaze. You seem alert, if a little lazily slouched against your doorframe.

“Itadori?”

Oh, right. He was here to say something, wasn’t he?

But he can’t possibly find the strength in his tongue, not when you look at him like that.

With some impossible adoration, like you simply can’t wait to hear whatever stupid bullshit he’s about to spout. He feels so unworthy of it all, and he can’t wait to find out more about you and mold himself to it. To become someone you can’t imagine waking up without. To study and be studied, he’s ready to throw himself into the horrors of being known - if it’s you he’s known by.

The air is punched out of him as he speaks, “Can…” you nod him along, opening your door wider, “Can I kiss you?”

Now that he’s so close to the sugary river, he can’t wait to dive in.

“Seriously?” you laugh in shock at the outburst, but when his face persists, you fling the door open entirely, “Seriously?”

Yuuji winds his hands tighter, to stop himself from desperately clawing his way down your throat, “I like you. I’ve liked you…” he’s unnatural like this, red in the face and dodging your stare, “I don’t even know.”

But you do, you felt it when you first saw him. However, you’re not plagued by the chains of past lives, so the implications are lost. Winding your arms behind your back and grinning at Yuuji with toothy glee, “Me too.”

His eyes nail you with that doughy, desperate plea for attention - the need to be seen as himself. And you’ve always been glad to lend it over in plentiful bounties.

That buzz of silence stabs the both of you.

Until Yuuji can no longer tether himself to his pockets, his big hands gentle as he cups both your cheeks. He molds himself to you, hoping that those troublesome flashes of times he never lived will at least serve his muscle memory now.

Your hands twist into the front of Yuuji’s shirt, nails biting into the black, soft, loose fabric and tugging him closer. Yuuji’s lips are slightly chapped, and you can feel the imprints from where he’s bitten them raw. He hisses when you peek your tongue at the smooth spots.

Wrenching your hands back, you quickly run them under and up his sleep shirt - his skin is warm and he gasps against your lips when your fingertips skim along his sides.

Yuuji pulls back, cheeks flaming, and shoulders his way past your bedroom door, kicking it shut behind him and placing his hands over his shirt - finding yours through the material. He grins, chuckling at how you grope his muscle, squeezing around your hands, “Enjoying yourself?”

“Whatever,” you huff, embarrassed, then ripping your hands out from under his shirt and twisting your fingers between his before - just to prove a point - planting his palms below your own shirt, “You try being normal like this.”

Yuuji’s broad palms are still only burning into the soft flesh of your stomach, but his heart is terribly out of whack.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“You can go higher,” your voice lilts higher, a mere soft whisper as if anything louder could entirely break the poor boy’s brain, “If you want…”

Of course, he does. He’d trade a thousand years with that Sisyphus guy Megumi mentioned to him just for twelve seconds of his hands sizzling up your body. Maybe even just for the chance.

His hands scope higher, palms glued to the planes of your body like he’s trying to scar himself along your skin. The sudden need to leave some lasting impression that he was there - here with you.

Yuuji does his best not to jump when Sukuna’s voice slithers into his ear, polite enough to whisper so he doesn’t alarm you, “Get her on her back. Tongue her cunt.”

You look at him all sweet and concerned when Yuuji’s nose scrunches, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

But he has no idea how to tell you that Sukuna’s words make his stomach churn, and by the time he even tries to form the words he’s thinking about it. Imagining himself on his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands tangled in his hair, and eagerly trying to annoy your friends as much as possible with how loud he can make you. And he feels so, so lightheaded at that.

Yuuji’s eyes are wide, staring into yours with such fire that it almost makes you shy away, “Can I eat you out?”

But you brave his dissecting gaze, heart pounding in your ears.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

And, oh, Yuuji could just about die happy right now.

On his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands screwed into the twirls of his tousled hair and (hopefully) annoying at least a nosy Nobara should she be listening to your soft moans next door.

Yuuji wiggles his tongue into your weeping hole, nestling his nose against your clit with a wheezy little whine. His eyes flutter up at you through the gaps between your shaking arms.

“Get your hands in there,” Sukuna’s voice is muffled against the thickness of your thigh, “Thumb her clit, don’t rely on your nose.”

Crinkling his brows, Yuuji has to bite back his remarks about how Sukuna could’ve told him that sooner. Snaking his right hand over your leg, Yuuji flattens his large hand against your lower stomach and pins your bucking hips. His thumb taking residence on your swollen clit, the bridge of his nose still saddled beneath it.

Your back arches, hips grinding down into Yuuji’s thumb and tongue. He’s messy with it - head shaking just to tease and feel the wetness of your pussy slip and slather across his chin. He tongue-fucks you in earnest, practically moaning into you as he grinds against the mattress. Swishing his thumb against your clit faster when he can feel you tighten around him, chasing the feeling of you cumming all over his face.

He can hear it despite his desperation - the way your breath hitches and throat cinches out a squeal. Your thighs squish around his head and Yuuji has to force his hips still lest he be submitted to the horrors of cumming in his pants.

And it isn’t even the fear of your reaction - no, he knows better than to think you’re capable of making him feel shame. It’s just-

“Yes,” Sukuna’s voice is husky, tongue lolling out along Yuuji’s cheek to lather up your juice, “Yes!”

Yuuji knows exactly who will be making fun of him instead. He smacks at the unwanted presence and takes it as pure luck when Sukuna actually stays down.

He works his tongue out of you slowly, letting you whine and huff the way off your high naturally before peeking up at you. He’s grinning, eyes wide and hands retreating to dig hungrily into the meat of your thighs.

“Hey, I wanna try something,” Yuuji’s shamelessness in licking at his soaked lips makes heat flush all the way to your forehead, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

You nod sheepishly, body jittery with the little bugs crawling beneath your sweltering skin. Yuuji bends to the sudden thought he’s sure has something to do with the curse inside him with a mysterious catalog on all things you.

Yuuji slips onto his back beside you, curled against the cold wall corning your bed with his feet flat against the mattress and legs bent. He uses the unnatural well of strength he’s harbored since birth to squeeze at the fat of your sides and lift you atop of him. He can feel the warmth of your cunt on his pelvis and it wracks him with a shiver, you whine helplessly when his right hand immediately welds to your slit. His index and ring fingers part your lips so his middle can swipe coyly over your clit.

“Hah,” you watch his ring finger abandon its post to join the rude teasing, “Yuuji…”

“I know,” Yuuji sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes glued to where your wetness drips onto his skin, his hard cock peeking up between your legs, “I know, I’m sorry,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry. Especially when he’s continuing to tease you while pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Okay, serious now,” but he dips his fingers lower and prods at your hole, “Serious.”

You giggle, hot-faced, at his focused gaze, “Yuuji!”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he spreads your lips again just to stare from over your shoulder, voice hoars when he finally speaks up, “Alright. Serious now.”

Reaching between your legs, Yuuji grabs hold of his cock - hissing at the contact - and is internally grateful when you raise your hips to meet his head. He presses his forehead against your shoulder when his tip pushes inside you. You feel the hot puffs of air he sends against your back as you continue lowering yourself. He whimpers, the hand at his base flying across your abdomen and gripping your breast. He squeezes and pinches and tries suffocating the embarrassing little noises escaping his lips when you rock your hips down on his pelvis.

“Okay down there?” you twist your head to look back at Yuuji and you’re so glad you did.

He’s flushed down to his chest and his lashes are kissing his cheeks to keep himself together, when he finally opens his eyes fully and looks up at you. His bottom lip is red and puffy from how hard he’d been biting it, “Now I’m gonna do something new.”

This wasn’t new?

Yuuji’s arms stretch under the backs of your knees and come over your shoulders before winding behind your neck, pressing his palms flat against the back of your head. Your arms dangle uselessly at your sides, hands stretching out to graze his ribs and legs bouncing limply as he manhandles you.

His cock bullies itself in your cunt, hips jerking up into the fat of your ass.

Yuuji tries to suffocate down his groans in favor of your sweet moans being punched up from your gut every time he sweeps deep inside you. His lips press tightly just as your own pop open for adorable “ah, ah ah!”s - fighting to maintain his pace despite how badly he wants to pin you to his body and wallow through the wetness sucking him back in for every thrust. Feel your sweaty skin slide and stick against his and whine at the pulling sensation when you peel apart.

Another sudden idea pops into his brain and it’s almost instinctual how he follows it. Besides, it isn’t like he’s going to complain about being brain-blasted with memories that aren’t his if it means not having to hear Sukuna’s voice while fucking you.

Hips never falter in their snaps up into you, Yuuji cranes his neck to teeth at the meat of your nape. He bites possessively and grunts in response to your immediate pitchy moan. Then licking over the marks apologetically.

You try to smother down your breathless moans as Yuuji bullies his cock repeatedly into that spongy spot shooting stars behind your eyes. With an angle and drive and care you’re sure would be lost on any man other than Yuuji - and you’re dumbly struck by the hope that maybe this hard work is only because he’s here with you. And that coherent thought is fucked out of you with Yuuji’s next whimpered request.

“Don’t do that,” he gasps when you tighten around him after a particularly rough thrust, “Please don’t keep it down- wanna…” he moans and the sound flutters straight to your tightening gut, “Wanna hear you so bad, pretty girl.”

Unlatching your teeth from the plush of your bottom lip, flames lap through the wiry twists of your veins - burning through the stretch of your skin and scarring Yuuji. And he eats it up and greedily begs at your feet for more. It shames Sukuna just as much as it excites him to taste the salt on your skin through his vessel’s tongue and watch the way your legs shake and bounce under his vessel’s iron hold. His favorite way to have you and your favorite way to take him.

Yuuji unwinds one of his arms from behind your neck, lowering half your body slightly to swipe his fingers between the junction of your thighs. Right over the slippery spot where you’re creaming on his cock and taking the soaked fingers to your clit. His canines and soft lips battle for a monopoly of your neck and shoulder, swiftly circling your clit with his middle and ring fingers as his hips continue fucking you stubbornly.

“Hng, Yuu…!” you gasp, head throwing back and narrowly missing his - the coil winding tighter and tighter and your walls milking Yuuji tighter and tighter, “Yuuji!”

“I know, baby,” he kisses up your bent neck and presses his flaming cheek against yours, “God, please, cum for me. Cum for me,” his hips stutter, and his breath hitches and oh, he’s so close, “I wanna feel you cum on me, baby- I need it. Need it so bad.”

“Oh, Yuuji,” you dig your face closer to his as if trying to meld yourselves into one body, “‘m cumming,” you clench and he’s damn near wheezing, the knot in his lower belly popping as he feels you cum and drips down his balls, “‘m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…!”

And just to avoid embarrassing himself from admitting he’s in love with you while spitting his own cum in your warm, wet walls, Yuuji strangles down his own final cries with a coppery, abusive bite to his bottom lip.

It starts to hurt, how he overstimulates himself through his slowing thrusts - letting you slip down onto his thrumming, sticky chest. Your legs sprawled across his sides, Yuuji slipping his softening cock from your hole.

You lazily roll off of Yuuji, landing face-first into your sheets at his side.

Yuuji can hear it again, that terrible, grating voice telling him, “Clean her, brat.”

And what’s the most terrible is he knows Sukuna’s command is entirely warranted. Flopping a hand onto your back, Yuuji traces heart shapes into the skin as he talks, “I’ll be right back.”

And when Yuuji’s wetting a soft, clean cloth he braved the hallway (nude) to retrieve from his room, he hears that voice again. It echoes in your bathroom.

“I want a turn when she’s awake,” a pause, “Fully awake.”

“Aren’t you charitable?” Yuuji rolls his eyes.

And that same utterance from hours before rings through Yuuji’s ears once again. Why Sukuna cared so much about petty crushes. Why Sukuna bothered himself by actually giving genuine, helpful points. Why Sukuna was fascinated by you.

“She was my most devoted and favorite lover in her past life.”

The way he says it inspires no respect for Yuuji - underlined in his thriving desire to be worshiped, as he imagines he deserves. Yuuji wouldn’t dare uphold you to that.

When he tenderly presses his thumbs into stiff muscles with a red flush and warm smile, Yuuji knows that for sure.

“Can I stay the night?” he whispers, folding his discarded towels and lazily tucking them by your bedpost on the floor. He feels that same hurried ache in his chest, awaiting for your impatience.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

You hum, lifting your head off the pillow and snickering, your drowsy face pinched to look at him like he’s stupid, “Duh.”

Giddy, Yuuji slips under the blankets he’d slid over you after cleaning the mess from between your thighs, and slots himself right next to you.

Rolling again, you twist into an open space against Yuuji’s chest and under his thick arm. Warmth drapes across your shoulders when he rests that arm over you. He circles his other arm around you and squeezes, grinning so hard he can feel it burning in the balls of his cheeks. Your ear rests against Yuuji’s chest, and you soothe yourself to slumber on the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Blissfully unaware of the fact that when your bones are rotten and six feet deep, two more people will be curled into each other’s arms. With your same starry eyes that some pink-haired kid falls in love with every time they’re on him.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuuji fluff #yuji x reader #yuji itadori #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori smut #yuji itadori fluff #and sukuna too i guess

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magical-girl-coral · 4 months

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I think people who say Astarion was a corrupt lawyer are a bit off about it. Not in the sense of "my baby would never be such a terrible person uwu" but in the "we're giving him way too much credit than he deserves" way. Astarion wouldn't have been a greedy snarly magistrate, he'd be a complete petty bitch about it.

"You think giving me a hundred gold will tempt me and change my verdict? Buy me a castle and then we'll talk."

"I was going to give you my vote but you ruined my afternoon nap so now that's a no from me."

"You're threatening my family with arson? What's next, dangling a barrel of kittens from the office building? Darling, if you're going to threaten me, at least be original about it and stop embarrassing the both of us already."

This bitch is not here to cooperate. He's a nepobaby forced into the political world and he's about to make everyone's fucking problem. He does good but only if it annoys the people he's annoyed by. A wildcard in the most despicable way possible. It's a miracle he wasn't killed sooner.

#BG3 #Baldur's Gate 3 #Astarion

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kimkaelyn · 2 months

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Ditto [s. todoroki]

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀, 𝑜𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜 — 𝒟𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜, 𝒩𝑒𝓌𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈

→ summary: when you transferred to U.A., you didn't anticipate slipping on a pair of chopsticks in the middle of the crowded cafeteria during your first week. however, what was more surprising was the unexpected fall for the boy who gracefully caught you.

→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers

→ word count: 13.1k

→ warnings & tags: sfw, female pronouns are used, usage of y/n l/n, Class 1-A are now third-year students aka 18+, swearing, the usual U.A. chaos, reader has a Quirk, misunderstandings, some training violence, minor injuries, mentions and discussions of insecurities, aizawa briefly belittles the reader as a form of motivation, beginnings of a panic attack but it's cut short, there is one instance of the reader appearing to be ‘flushed’ in regards to a fever, since this is my first bnha fic some characters might be ooc? | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!

→ author's note: AHHHH HERE IT IS! I've been working on this for almost a year now and I am so excited to finally share it with all of you. Honestly, I didn't think I would ever finish this story, but I kept slowly chipping away at it thanks in part to the encouragement from @andypantsx3, @missrosegold, and @getstarried. Special thanks to @pikatsum for beta-reading this for me! Thank you girls. This is for you🫶🏻

The cafeteria at U.A. High School was a pretty chaotic environment, you quickly learned within your first week after transferring from another Hero Course in the countryside. There were multiple things that could and would happen after the famous students had gotten some much-needed nutrients in their systems.

It was only three days into the school year and nothing had happened just yet, but in the U.A. world, that something was overdue.

The first chaotic event of the year that everyone had been anxiously—or in some cases, excitingly—waiting for happened on Thursday.

The day started off average; you got to school with three minutes to spare, which was a new record, but you had forgotten your pencil pouch in your dorm room, so you had to borrow some pencils from a girl who sat in front of you; Mina Ashido.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you took the pastel pink utensil from her. There was even a cute little fluffy puffball at the end in exchange for an eraser. Good thing you had an eraser in your bag.

“No problem! I gotcha!” She physically lit up and gave you a bright smile before turning back to focus on the blackboard.

You somehow managed to get through your morning classes running on the four hours of sleep you got the night before. You were cutting it quite close to passing out at your desk during calculus class, but you were saved by the lunch bell.

As soon as you stepped foot into the hallway, you were wrapped up in the faint, delicious scent of your favorite food coming from the cafeteria. Your mouth instantly watered, and you made a mad dash for the source of the delicious scent.

“Hey!” a sharp voice made you freeze in your steps. You glanced over your shoulder to find Tenya Iida, Class 3-A’s representative, glaring at you. The light reflecting off his glasses made him appear more threatening than he really was, but regardless, you still found yourself shying away from his harsh glare and rapid-moving hands. As they passed by, some students gave you apologetic smiles while others were not shy about openly staring at the scene before them, wondering what you possibly could have done to induce the wrath of the student representative. “There is to be no running in the halls!” You cowered some more at his brisk and overly formal tone.

Geez, what a stuck-up, you thought to yourself.

“My apologies, Iida.” You respond with a bow. He accepted your apology with a curt nod before he continued on his way to the cafeteria.

You waited for him to pass before rising from your bow. “Wow, he makes it feel like I broke the law or something.” You mused aloud.

“Don’t take it personally,” a comforting voice said from behind you. You turned to find Momo Yaoyorozu, Ochako Uraraka, and Tsuyu Asui standing before you. Ochako gave you a slight wave in greeting. “Iida can be quite demanding,” Yaoyorozu reassured you.

“Thank you.”

Tsuyu regarded you with gentle onyx eyes. “It’s L/N, right?”

You smiled, happy that she remembered your name from roll call. “Y-yeah! I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I, um, already know who you guys are.” You suddenly felt shy, and you bashfully rubbed the back of your neck out of nervous habit.

Before your transfer was finalized, you did extensive research into your future school’s history and future classmates. Thankfully—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—a lot of information is public knowledge; the various attacks on the school in the year leading up to and the conclusion of the War between the Paranormal Liberation Front and the Heroes, not to mention the various televised sports festivals, and the fact that the members of Class 1-A are practically household names even before their graduation.

The girls invited you to sit with them in the cafeteria. You had been keeping to yourself the first few days of school, choosing to observe from afar the already established social circles and friend groups. You had waited for an invitation to join one of said groups, and here was your opportunity.

The four of you made small talk as you made your way through the lunch line and to the table. Right away, Asui told you to call her by her given name. You told them about your life growing up in the countryside—with you and Uraraka bonding over your shared reason for becoming Pro Heroes—about the friends you had, embarrassingly funny stories from your junior high days, and eventually what led you to transfer to U.A.

“Well, this is the best Hero Course in the country!” you all laughed. “But to be frank, the only teacher at my old academy who could handle my Quirk retired, and none of the other academies within the prefecture had the resources to help me advance. Plus, my mentor is an U.A. alumnus, so naturally, the only other choice was U.A.”

Yaoyorozu hummed. “It is a shame about your mentor retiring, but that is what led you to transfer to U.A., and for that, I am grateful.” The class vice representative regarded you kindly. “I am a firm believer of things happening for a reason, and your transfer doesn’t change that.”

Uraraka nodded her agreement. “Momo’s right. U.A. is a place where anybody can make a difference, and I think you will find success here.”

You were rendered speechless. The tips of your ears turned red as your classmates regarded you with so much hope and sincerity in their eyes. “Uh . . . I,” you bashfully scratched the back of your head. Not knowing how to respond, you instead reached for the small bottle of milk on your lunch tray and brought it to your lips.

However, before you could take a sip, a BOOM erupted from the front of the cafeteria, accompanied by a gruff voice yelling, “Don’t walk in front of me, Icy-Hot!” You reflexively jolted at the loud noises and lost your grip on the glass, spilling the half-full bottle all over the front of your uniform.

“Shit,” you exclaimed as you instinctually rose from your seat, only to quickly sit down again when the liquid started to fall to the floor. The girls gasped and were quick to hand you all the napkins in the vicinity.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Asui asked as she watched you pat down your sodden skirt.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You waved off her concern as you continued to wipe away the remaining liquid. The napkins managed to soak up most of it, but your skirt was still damp. If you didn’t change skirts, you were going to smell of milk for the rest of the day, and you didn’t want to start off the school year with a reputation for smelling vile. “I’m going to go back to the dorm really quickly and change into a clean uniform. Please let Mr. Snipe know that I will be late for class.”

“Do you want us to accompany you?” Yaoyorozu asked. She began to rise from her seat, but you stopped her.

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You gave her what you hoped to be a reassuring grin instead of a grimace. “Thank you for offering, Yaoyorozu, but I’ll be fine.” Before your classmates could respond, you stood from the table and made your way to the exit.

Great, this is just great, you thought as you walked, not really paying attention to where you were going. As soon as I make some friends, I make a fool of myself.

Unbeknownst to you, there was an obstacle in the aisle directly ahead. You were too distracted by your growing inner turmoil to notice the pair of metal chopsticks lying on the ground before you until your foot made contact and slipped out from under you.

It all happened so fast that you couldn’t even react.

Time froze as you became weightless, and you felt your body become briefly suspended in the air. Before you could react and rotate your body to prevent yourself from violently banging your head on the tiled floor, gravity took hold and yanked you back down toward the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness your classmates’ reactions to your misfortune.

Great, now I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of the entire school. Fuck you, chopsticks.

You prepared yourself for the pain of hitting the hard floor but were shocked when you were suddenly wrapped in a chilled warmth. You did slam into a hard surface, but this didn’t feel like the cold tile you expected.

“Are you all right?” a voice asked from above. You opened your eyes, only to find yourself captivated by a beautiful graphite and turquoise gaze. Your mouth opened to respond to the inquiry, but you couldn’t speak. This strange yet calming gaze hypnotized you, causing the rest of the world to fade into a buzzing silence. You watched as the perfect eyebrows of the owner of those magical eyes furrowed downward at your prolonged silence, the action momentarily drawing your attention.

With your attention span no longer zeroed in on the heterochromatic gaze, the world around you suddenly slammed back into your senses at full force. The volume of your fellow classmates’ conversations was deafening at first, but your ears grew accustomed once again to zone them out and focus on the person before you.

It took about thirty seconds for the entirety of your current predicament to register within your brain.

You were hanging about ten centimeters off the ground. The only thing keeping you upright and injury-free was Shouto Todoroki’s firm grip on your wrist.

“Um, hello?” the dual-haired teenager once again drew your attention to him. His grip slightly tightened before he tugged you up onto your feet.

“I think you broke her, Icy-Hot.” A rough voice drawled from your peripheral.

The intrusion of the other voice is what finally brought you out of your stunned silence. “No, I’m okay. Not broken.”

“Did you hit your head?” Todoroki inquired. He steadied you on your feet but didn’t release your wrist from his hold. Katsuki Bakugou was standing off to the side, trying to appear like he wasn’t involved with either one of you.

“I-I don’t think so.” As you reached down to brush yourself off, you caught a whiff of the unflattering scent of old milk emitting from your clothes. You held back your gag and turned to face Todoroki and Bakugou. “I’m sorry to rush, but I really do need to go.” You gave a quick bow. “Thank you for catching me, Todoroki. Bye!”

The two boys watched you sprint away like a bat out of hell. “T’fuck is her problem,” Bakugou muttered. “Fuckin’ extra makin’ me late for lunch.”

Todoroki didn’t respond to his classmate’s remarks. His lips pursed together as he watched you nearly run into a couple of first years before you disappeared around a corner, out of sight.

“Don’ even think ‘bout it, Icy-Hot.” Bakugou drawled from beside him. Todoroki cocked an eyebrow, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise indifferent expression. “Gettin’ involved with ‘hat extra will ruin your precious bloodline.”

You tried to forget about the cafeteria incident, but the embarrassing ordeal refused to secede from the forefront of your mind. As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers a minute, antagonizing and overanalyzing every second of what had happened.

As the night dragged on, your thoughts shifted from the overall event to one single individual: Shouto Todoroki. You knew who he was, of course. You didn’t grow up underneath a rock. Yet, you weren’t prepared for how much more handsome he was in person than on the news or in photos.

You overanalyzed everything he did in the brief two minutes you were blessed to be in his company, every word he said, and every brief flash of emotion that showed in his heterochromatic eyes. Todoroki had tried to approach you after training in Ground Beta once you had returned from the dorms, but you avoided him, not wanting to face him again so soon after the embarrassing first meeting.

By Sunday, you had begun to forget about your embarrassing cafeteria incident. Your newfound friends didn’t bring up the spilled milk, and thankfully, they didn’t see you slip on the chopsticks and fall into Shouto Todoroki’s muscular arms. You breathed a sigh of relief when you found out that last part. You didn’t want them to think you were a total klutz.

Todoroki may think otherwise.

As you were rounding the corner to walk back up the stairs to head back to your dorm room, Todoroki happened to be walking down. You both turned at the same time and walked straight into each other.

He wasn’t fazed by the sudden collision; however, you were taken completely off guard. No matter how strong you may be, suddenly walking into about a hundred kilos of pure muscle would make anyone stumble. While he remained steadily standing, you, on the other hand, fell back onto your ass.

It took about three seconds for the two of you to comprehend what the hell had just happened. You groaned out when pain flashed across your backside.

“My apologies, I did not see you.” Todoroki said as he offered you a hand. You begrudgingly accepted his assistance, face heating as your super handsome classmate helped you to your feet for the second time in a week.

“Thank you,” you bowed your head to him. You brushed away some dust from your sweatpants, finding yourself too shy to look back up.

You felt a firm, yet gentle hand land on your shoulder. You jerked your head upwards to meet Todoroki’s captivating gaze. “Are you injured?” His heterochromatic eyes searched you for any injury, and they glimmered with relief when he found none.

“No, I’m okay,” you reassured the male. “I may be a little bruised in the morning, but I will be fine.” Not to mention my bruised ego.

Todoroki hummed in acknowledgment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. His eyes were hyper-fixated on you, leaving you to feel bare under his intense gaze.

You shifted your weight back and forth as the silence between you dragged on for a couple more seconds. “Um, I—” You cleared your throat. “I should be on my way now. Got things to study, you know.” You told him with an awkward laugh.

You moved to step around him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to move. Your movements are what must have shaken him out of his stupor, with him bashfully stepping to the side to allow you access to the stairway.

“Right.” He said as you walked by. “Take care, Y/N.” You startled at his sudden usage of your given name, but nevertheless, you felt oddly relieved. You smiled shyly and bid him goodbye. Nothing else was said between the two of you, but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the stairs.

I hope he likes cinnamon; you thought as you peered into the oven.

To be fair, you should have considered that before laboring for over two hours making kinako cinnamon cookies from scratch—which absolutely failed. Therefore, as a last resort, you were forced to run to the store and buy a box mix.

The he in question?

Shouto Todoroki.

It had been several days since your embarrassing first interaction with the dual-haired male and forty-five hours since your second, literal, run-in—not that you were keeping track, of course.

You wanted to do something nice for him as a way to apologize for your newfound clumsiness and thank him for his assistance in both instances. Your calligraphy skills were not . . . up to par, so to say, by any means, so a handmade thank-you card was off the table, and you highly doubt Todoroki was a flower guy. Not to mention his affluent background, so buying him a gift or offering to take him out to dinner was null—and way too straightforward for two people who were barely even acquaintances.

Therefore, you were left with only one option: homemade cookies.

Besides, all the old aunties back home always said the quickest way to win anyone over was through food.

“Ooooh, something smells amazing!” someone exclaimed from the stairway. Smiling slyly to yourself, you turned away from the oven to the new arrival.

You hadn’t interacted much with Rikido Sato save for the casual good morning greetings and thanking him for the delicious red velvet cupcake he baked for you as a welcoming gift to U.A.

“Thanks,” you said, grinning at the male.

The combined low mutterings of more approaching classmates brought your and Sato’s attention to the doorway where Mina Ashido, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, and Hanta Sero were entering the dorm.

“Woah something smells fantastic!” Kaminari said, gazing into the kitchen in hopes of spotting the source of the delicious scent.

“Yeah, it does!” Kirishima agreed.

“Oh my gosh, what is it?” Ashido asked as she walked over. Her eyes lit up when she spotted you. “L/N! Did you make something?”

“I did.” You confirmed with a slight nod. “I’m making kinako cinnamon cookies.”

“Oooooh, yummy!” the pinkette exclaimed as she bounced over to peer into the oven. Your other classmates quickly joined her, all of them staring into the soft, golden light of the oven with stars in their eyes.

“They look so good!” Kaminari was practically drooling at the tawny treats. At that moment, the timer went off with a soft ting! You politely shooed your classmates back as you pulled a hand towel over your hands.

“Step back, everyone,” you warned as you opened the oven door. “They’re going to be hot.” You carefully reached in and grabbed the cooking tray, cautiously sliding it off the rack and fully into your cloth-covered hands. Despite taking precautions, you hissed as the hot aluminum seeped through the towel and made contact with your flesh. As quickly as you could without dropping the pan of cookies, you turned and set it down on the kitchen island.

“These look delicious!”

“Woah, man, they look amazing!”

“I bet they taste as scrumptious as they lo—”

You zoned out the boys’ compliments as you moved to the sink and turned on the tap.

“L/N, are you okay?” Ashido asked as she followed you. Her question caught the other's attention, and they, too, turned to watch you quizzingly.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Your response ended with a wince as your skin made contact with the cool water.

“Here, let me see,” Ashido gestured to your hand. With your permission, she took your wrist with gentle fingers and held it up for you both to inspect. Your skin was reddened slightly, but it wasn’t anything serious. You let out a sigh of relief. “It’s not serious, thankfully, but we should still put some burn cream on it just in case,” Ashido advised as she turned off the tap.

You nodded your head again and followed the pink-haired girl as she went to retrieve the first-aid kit. Before you walked too far from the kitchen, you shouted over your shoulder to your classmates, “Please don’t eat the cookies, boys! They are still hot and are for someone special!”

There was a noticeable delay in response to your warning. After a pregnant pause, there was a muffled, “okamph!” in response. You were about to turn around and make sure that they weren’t eating your treats, but Ashido calling your name changed your plans.

“Let’s fix you up, yeah?” She said as you both entered the girls' bathroom. Ashido gestured for you to sit on the counter while she dug through the first-aid kit for burn cream.

“Thank you, Ashido,” you said a few moments later as she lightly applied the cream to the worst of the reddening. Your skin wasn’t blistering, which was a good sign, but it was beginning to ache.

“No problem,” she replied. She began to gently rub the cream into your skin, mindful of the sore spots. She beamed at you as she said, “And you can just call me Mina. We are friends!”

You smiled at her. “Okay, Mina.” The two of you were silent for a couple of minutes as Mina continued to dress your burns.

“So,” she started, breaking the silence. “Who did you make the cookies for?”

You sharply inhaled. “W-what? What do you mean?” You tried to play it off by playing dumb, but Mina gave you an are you kidding me look.

“Don’t play that game with me, girl.” She scolded you. “So, tell me, who is this ‘special someone’?”

You let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “One of our classmates. . .” You trailed off, turning away from the pinkette, and absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

Mina’s eyes lit up and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh my God, seriously?!?” She squealed. You turned to face her again. “Girl, you absolutely gotta tell me! Who is it?!” She went to grab ahold of your hands but stopped herself when she remembered your injury. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You said. “But, um, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words, but you couldn’t find them. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” You said, barely above a whisper, turning away from your classmate once more in embarrassment.

Mina leaned back, taken by surprise by your change of tone. She studied you for a few seconds, her expression falling when she saw the look on your face; the clenching of your jaw.

“It’s okay, girl,” she reassured you. She set the roll of bandages down on the counter as she finished wrapping your hand. “You don’t have to tell me who your crush is if you don’t want to.”

You whipped back around to face her, eyes wide. “C-crush?!” you stammered out. “W-what?! I don’t have a crush! I never said I did.” you explained.

“Yeah, sure,” Mina smirked at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t of baked cookies for them if you didn’t like them.”

“Um, because I’m nice?” you asked with a lilt in your voice. Mina does have a point, though, you thought.

Mina laughed. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”

A couple of minutes later, you and the pinkette exited the bathroom, laughing over something Mina had said. Your hand had been expertly wrapped and treated with some burn cream. Your injury didn’t even hurt anymore, but you were still going to check in tomorrow with Recovery Girl as a precaution.

As you rounded the corner to go back into the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes fell to the now-empty pan where twenty cookies sat not even ten minutes ago. Mina stopped next to you, and you could see her giving you a questionable look, but you didn’t—couldn’t—acknowledge her. You just stared blankly at the pan, trying to process what you were seeing.

What the hell? you thought.

“Ah, man,” a voice drawled out. You slowly turned towards the source; Denki Kaminari. He was lounging against the counter as he rubbed his stomach for emphasis. “Those cinnamon kinako cookies were delicious!” Your brain blanked out when you heard that, the organ pathetically trying to comprehend and respond to the current situation.

“You’re telling me!” Kirishima piped up from beside the blond. Sero and Sato voiced their agreement from where they were seated on the couches. “They really hit the spot after the day I had.” The redhead noticed you and Mina. “Hey, guys, welcome back!” he greeted with a wave, a broad smile overtaking his features. “How’s your hand?”

You did not formulate an answer right away, your brain still processing the crumbled remains of your cookies. Your delay didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but before they could question it, Mina came to your rescue.

“It’s okay! Y/N is alright, nothing major.” She informed them. Kirishima’s gaze left you to focus on the pinkette by your side, but Kaminari’s remained transfixed on your blank expression.

“Oh, well, that’s great to hear! I was worried—”

“But you should be ashamed!” Mina cut the redhead off, tone sharp as a blade. “All of you.”

“What—?”

“Mina, why—?”

Kirishima and Kaminari spoke at once, their voices clashing, but the pinkette interrupted them once more.

“Y/N didn’t make those cookies for you.” She said. “She made them for someone special, yet you guys ate them even after she told you not to.” She just about bit the last part out. The boys gaped at Mina, her scolding catching them by surprise.

“Is that true?” Sato asked, rising from the couch to approach you. Everyone fixated their attention on you, waiting for a response.

You hesitated at the sudden limelight, and also in shyness. When you originally set out to bake the kinako cookies for Todoroki, you didn’t expect them to 1.) burn your hand and 2.) for them to be eaten by others. Even though you were upset, you didn’t want the others to be ashamed or scolded. But they did eat them after I told them not to, you thought, pondering your next move.

After a few moments, you squared your shoulders and steadily said, “Yes. I . . . made them for somebody.” At your words, the room’s atmosphere soured. The boys’ shoulders slumped as they realized their mistake.

“Shoot, L/N, I’m sorry,” Kaminari said, stepping forward to gently grab your uninjured hand and bow.

“Yeah,” Kirishima added, scratching the back of his neck and looking away slightly. “That wasn’t really manly of us.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Sero intoned, looking sheepish.

Sato came to stand in front of you next to Kaminari, who still had a gentle hold of your hand. “I’ll be more than happy to remake the cookies for you.” He said. “If you want that, of course.”

You smiled, though it was closed-lipped. “Thank you, Sato, but not today.” He bowed his head.

Suddenly, the front doors slammed open, startling the six of you. You all watched, shell-shacked—you did, at least—as a fuming Bakugou stepped inside, loudly exclaiming, “I had ‘hat dumbass villain handled! Damn Sidekick extra jus’ had to step ‘n and—” He noticed your little group gaping at him. “The hell ‘re ya fools lookin’ at?” As the words left his mouth, the other two members of the infamous U.A. trio entered as well.

“Kacchan,” Izuku Midoriya said, trying to placate the explosive male. “He was just trying to . . .” The rest of his sentence fizzled into the background as the entirety of your attention span landed on Shouto Todoroki.

It had already been well-established that the youngest Todoroki son was even more handsome in person, but seeing him in his Hero costume did things to you. Your mouth almost dropped open to gawk at his god-like appearance, but you clenched your jaw tightly shut to avoid that catastrophe. Despite that, you were pretty positive your eyes were as wide as saucers, greedily taking every inch of him in as if it were the last time you would see him.

I should sue him for the cost of my medical bills when I develop heart palpitations, you thought.

“Shut the hell up, ya stupid nerd.” Bakugou snapped at a sputtering Midoriya, drawing your attention once more. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“Is he always this angry?” you asked under your breath; half-serious, half-rhetorical.

“Oh, yeah,” Mina confirmed, voice just as low.

Sero snickered from his post next to Sato. “You get used to it after a while,” he reassured you.

One of Kirishima’s blinding smiles makes its appearance once again. “Katsuki’s always been passionate about, well, everything.” He told you, not bothering to lower his voice. “It’s who he is. We love him regardless.”

Sato chimed in with, “Platonically.” The boys snickered and Mina rolled her eyes, yet there was a small smile playing on her lips.

“Even though his sour attitude can be harsh and lowkey over the top,” Kaminari began, eyes shining with mischief. “It sure makes him fun to mess with!” Your companions groaned in exasperation and started to voice their reservations.

“No, Denki. Leave him be—” Mina urged him.

“Awe, come on, man. Don’t—”

“Heyy~ Katsuki,” Kaminari crooned, rocking back on his heels as the pale blond’s attention zeroed in on him. Kirishima and Sato facepalmed. “Why have trouble catching a ‘dumbass villain’?” he teased. “Bad day? Your head not in the game?” The hair on your arms rose to attention as an electric charge swept the room, putting everyone on edge. Kaminari’s baiting also drew the attention of the explosive male’s companions. Your eyes briefly met captivating graphite and turquoise, eliciting a sharp gasp to leave your lungs.

“You’re gonna regret the day you were born, dumbass!” Bakugou bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the electric blond, snapping your attention from the hypnotizing gaze. You fully expected him to charge the male, already taking a cautionary step back, but instead of explosions ripping apart the building, Bakugou grunted and moved towards the showers.

Mina turned to the blond and shouted, “Now why did you do that, Denki? You know better than to rile Katsuki up like that!”

Kirishima dragged a large hand down his face before running it through his unruly red locks. “I’ll go check on him,” he announced before jogging after the sandy-blond. You were at a loss for words as you continued to watch your classmates scold a shit-grinning Kaminari, not even the tiniest bit remorseful for his teasing of Bakugou.

“Please don’t take Kacchan’s rashness to heart.” A new voice piped up. You turned to meet the electric green gaze of none other than Izuku Midoriya, the new generation’s proclaimed Symbol of Peace. “I’m s-sorry, I don’t think we have properly met. I’ve been in and out of campus lately—with missions and such.” He practically skipped over to stand in front of you. He smiled brightly as he gently took your hands in his large, calloused ones. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. I’m so happy you are here at U.A.!” he excitedly exclaimed, lightly squeezing your entwined hands. You couldn’t hide your wince and small gasp of pain as Midoriya unknowingly squeezed your burns. The green-haired male let go of your hands so fast as if he was the one burned instead of you, eyes growing wide. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” he asked, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your hand. Midoriya’s frenzy caught the other's attention, and all eyes were on you yet again.

The tips of your ears grew hot at the unwavering attention from the Heroes-in-training—especially from a certain icy-hot male who made your heart falter in its beating. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine.” You stuttered as you met each of your classmate's gazes, trying to reassure them of your stability.

“What happened?” Todoroki inquired, eyes hawkishly zeroed in on your face.

“U-um, well . . .” you trailed off, words fading from your brain as you slightly cowered under his unwavering attention. “I—”

“She burned herself while baking kinako cookies,” Sero spoke for you, having caught onto your growing anxiousness. You didn’t miss Todoroki’s eyes narrowing at the black-haired male’s words. Sato and Kaminari made noises of agreement, the blond absentmindedly rubbing his stomach in content.

Midoriya’s eyes shined. “Really? You did?!” He looked behind you to the kitchen, eyes searching for the aforementioned treats. “Where are they?” he asked when he didn’t spot any, only a plate littered with crumbs. He turned his attention back to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but a wave of shame overcame you as your eyes once again met those of the one you had made the cookies for.

Mina noticed your hesitation, giving you a knowing look as she answered for you. “The three idiots to your left ate them all,” she said with a little bite to her words, glaring daggers at the culprits. “After they were specifically told not to.” She reaffirmed. The boys shuddered at the reminder of their disobedience. The pinkette turned her attention back to the green-haired and dual-haired males. “I patched her up, though. The burns are minor.”

Midoriya nodded his head in understanding. “You should still see Recovery Girl,” he instructed, unashamedly expressing his concern for someone he had just properly met. “At least let her take a look at it.”

“I’m going to stop by to see her in the morning,” you reassured him, words coming back now that your mind was a little clear. His shoulders slumped in relief.

“You should rest, Y/N.” Todoroki’s searing gaze trailed over your form, calculating eyes searching for any additional outward signs of injury or discomfort. “After suffering an injury, no matter how insignificant, rest is important.” He softly chided.

“R-right.” You stammered out, at a loss for how else to respond to your handsome classmate's concern other than compliance. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at that moment. Your feet stumbled as you became lightheaded for a split second. You noticed the dual-haired male take a step towards you, catching onto your sudden exhaustion, but you quickly rightened yourself. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You’re not exactly sure why you thanked him, or what for. His concern, perhaps? He subtly nodded as you turned from the small group, breathlessly mumbling some sort of farewell and something about retiring to your room for the rest of the day.

The others muttered their goodbyes as you made your way to the stairwell.

As you walked up the stairs, head hung low, your throat began to burn and your vision began to blur with tears. The first one fell when you reached your floor, quickly followed by a couple more. You wiped them away, sniffing, as you made your way to your door. You didn’t react to the sudden presence next to you and the weight draped around your shoulders.

Mina didn’t say anything, only traced comforting circles into your back as tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

The next day, you and your classmates were gathered outside Gym Gamma for an impromptu training session. You were surprised that Class 3-A still regularly trained together, but in your defense, that assumption came from someone who didn’t have many options when it came to sparing partners up until your transfer—a major shortcoming in retrospect.

“Today we are working on ‘last stand’ combat.” Mr. Aizawa drawled in his natural I Don’t Give A Fuck tone. “Close-quarter combat in which a violent assailant has obtained the upper hand and corners you in an attempt to defeat you.” He proceeded to explain the instructions of the training exercise and pair the students into groups of four who would take turns being the Heroes and the assailants.

“Midoriya will be with Jirou.” Mr. Aizawa intoned, briefly glancing at the two students to confirm they heard. “Todoroki will be with L/N.” Your muscles stiffened when you heard that. Your heart began to race as you watched the red-and-white-haired male make his way over to you.

“H-hi,” you greeted him, giving a soft smile.

“Hello,” he said, politely inclining his head. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Same here.” You said before facing forward once more as the first group began their round. You and Todoroki observed the match in silence, with you paying extra attention to your classmates’ movements and taking mental notes of how they incorporated their Quirks into hand-to-hand combat.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Expecting the new additions to be Ochako and Asui, you turned to greet them with a warm smile but paused when instead of your friends, Midoriya and Kyoka Jirou were standing next to you, both with warm expressions on their faces.

“Hi!” Midoriya greeted with a wide smile and a small wave. “I’m excited for this training exercise! It’s going to be so cool to see everyone’s improvement with hand-to-hand combat over the break! And any new moves! Or Quirk Awakenings! Or—” You had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying as it turned into a stuttering rant as he went on about each individual’s Quirk.

The rumors were true regarding his ramblings, you mused to yourself, wondering how long he could go on for before a small hand on his shoulder made him take pause.

“Midoriya,” Jirou intoned. “Calm down.” His cheeks flushed a bright red. He began laughing nervously while absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.

“S-sorry,” he said, shyfully.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I agree with your stance, though. Observing others' skills is an effective way to improve your own. Get an idea or two.” You turned your attention back to the ongoing training, taking mental notes of your classmates’ fighting stances and their defensive moves, trying to get a better understanding of the why behind them. You pulled a small item from your jacket pocket, absentmindedly rubbing it between your thumb and forefinger. The movement caught Midoriya’s attention.

“What is that?” he asked, green eyes alight with curiosity.

“What? This?” You held up your good luck charm; a small, pink parrot keychain from a popular cartoon series you had won years ago at one of your hometown’s summer festivals. It was lucky because at the moment, while little you were trying to win, your Quirk had manifested. “It’s my good luck charm,” you explained the pink parrot’s value to you.

“Oh, cool!” Midoriya exclaimed. “You know, I used to have a good luck charm—it was my super rare exclusive All Might trading card! First edition!” His eyes shined as he reminisced. “I would bring it with me everywhere! Even Kacchan—”

“Deku,” drawled a low voice from the other side of your gathered class. The temperature fell as Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed onto Midoriya. “Don’t say another word.”

“He’s such a fanboy.” Jirou chuckled, fondness seeping into her voice. Midoriya smiled sheepishly, not bothering even to try to deny the label. You spent the time until your group’s turn getting to know the two, quickly finding out that you and Jirou share the same taste in music; vowing to swap playlists after class. You were so caught up in your conversation that you almost forgot about Todoroki's presence, if not for the awareness of a body next to you. His chilled warmth seeped into your muscles, causing you to relax one moment, and tense up another.

“Are you all right?” he softly inquired, spying your tensed posture.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You replied, softly smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Just a lil’ nervous, is all.”

Todoroki frowned slightly, not understanding how you could be experiencing anxiousness. “Wh—?”

“Oh yeah!” Midoriya suddenly interjected. “This is going to be your first time demonstrating your Quirk, huh?” he asked you. “Or at least this is gonna be the first time I will see it. What is it again? Object—no—um, yeah, anyway I bet it is awesome!” His eyes still shined with his enthusiasm and curiosity. “Sometime you gotta let me ask you about it! I have so many! Does it work like Ochako’s Zero Gravity? Or Yaoyorozu’s Creation?”

You couldn’t help but give a small laugh at his eagerness. You had never met someone as enthusiastic about Quirks as Izuku Midoriya. It was kind of refreshing to interact with someone as passionate as he was.

“Kind of,” you began, silently pondering over what you know of the brunette’s Quirk and comparing it to your own. “Ochako and I have the same limitations when it comes to the weight of an object, but besides that, our Quirks are different.” Your Quirk was object manipulation; you could telepathically manipulate objects within a certain range. To you, your Quirk wasn’t all that—wasn’t anything unique by any means—but to others, you were seen as a powerful goddess. “To be honest, I’m lacking in hand-to-hand combat skills.” You sheepishly smiled.

“Really?” Midoriya asked, blinking in shock. “I thought your previous school would have prepared you for all types of situations.” Jirou nodded her agreement with the green-haired male. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Shouto continue to observe you with a calculating expression on his face.

“Unfortunately, no.” You shrugged. “Their curriculum was more focused on improving the individual’s Quirk than learning how to fight without it.”

“Oh, wow,” Jirou said. “That could put you at a great disadvantage down the line.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s why—” You were cut off by Mr. Aizawa calling for your group to begin your training round. “Welp, this is it, I guess.” You chuckled nervously.

Midoriya gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great!” he said, giving you a thumbs-up accompanied by a warm smile.

“Do your best,” Jirou added before moving towards the training pitch.

You started to follow, but a cool hand on your shoulder made you pause, shivering softly. You turned to find Todoroki giving you an expectant look. “You’ll do fine,” he said, confidently. He looked as if he put his entire faith in you. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

You felt a surge of confidence fill you at his words. You gave him a determined look. “Right,” you said. “We got this.”

You swear up and down his eyes twinkled when he looked at you, but it could have been a trick of the light. “You got this.” He replied, softly. The two of you walked into the pitch together, side by side.

The training went . . . not terrible, but it could have been better on your end.

Todoroki, Midoriya, and Jirou were amazing. Even without using their Quirks, they each were a force to be reckoned with. You were captivated by how swiftly they moved—as if they were ballerinas performing Danse des Petits Cygnes.

You weren’t on the same level as them and the rest of Class 3-A. You knew that, and you acknowledged it, but to see and be confronted by it so bluntly in person made you feel a whole other level of embarrassment and shame. You weren’t weak by any means, you could hold your own in a fight for some time, but not like your classmates could—and had.

Perhaps that is what separates you from your classmates. They have battle experience. Hell, they fought in a fucking war for crying out loud while you were on the other side of the country, guarding civilian shelters. You were fortunate not to see much bloodshed, but maybe that brought you to a disadvantage against these future Heroes surrounding you.

The horn had sounded as Jirou pinned you in the dirt for the sixth time, signaling the end of the round. You heard the sounds of Midoriya and Todoroki’s scuffling come to a halt from somewhere off to your left as Jirou lifted herself off of you. She offered you a hand as you began to rise from the ground. You accepted her extended hand with a grimace as the muscles in your back burned.

“Nice work.” Mr. Aizawa said as the four of you approached. “You performed adequately,” he addressed Jirou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. He turned to you. “You, not so much.”

You flinched as the words landed home. Damn, you thought, but he’s not wrong. You had naively allowed yourself to believe that Eraserhead wouldn’t call out your inferiority, at least in front of others. Then again, he was Eraserhead—infamous for his bluntness and apathy.

“Your skills are greatly lacking in hand-to-hand combat,” he continued. “I haven’t seen somebody so physically inadequate since your classmates were first years. Coming from another Hero Course, especially one with its reputation, it’s to be expected that you’re not up to par with your new classmates, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” As he spoke, he never broke eye contact with you, scrutinizing you. Even with one eye, his unrelenting gaze made you feel as if he could see every minuscule detail about you. “Based on the performance I saw today, it was a mistake to put you in this class.”

You heard a gasp from one of your classmates; its owner unknown. You gulped down your shame and remained silent. You had a feeling Aizawa wasn’t finished with you.

“From here on out, I expect you to train harder and push yourself further than anyone else. Extra training, extra classes—anything that will make you catch up.” His eye narrowed. “If I do not see substantial improvement in one month, you will be expelled. No exceptions.”

Your eyes widened, but your shock did not stop you from replying. “Yes, sir.” You said, keeping your tone neutral as you mulled over his words. Although extreme, I understand the reason for Mr. Aizawa’s methods, you thought. He’s right though. I’m far from even scrapping the level these guys are on. I need to be more disciplined and work even harder if I want to stand on equal ground with my classmates. Resolve made, you promised, “I will go Plus Ultra!”

“Yaass, Y/N!” Mina cheered. “Woohoo!”

Aizawa didn’t say anything else to you, promptly dismissing the class. Midoriya praised your performance and commented on his wish to sit down and talk in-depth with you regarding your Quirk. You promptly accepted his request, telling him you would let him know when you were free. He smiled before walking off to join Iida and Ochako.

“If it means anything,” a voice suddenly intoned from behind you. You spun around, having not sensed the person's approach. You weren’t all that surprised to find Todoroki there, softly regarding you. “I think you did well.”

You scoffed but smiled softly. “Thank you, but you don’t have to patronize me. I have a lot of work to do if I want to catch up.”

“You will,” he declared, before quickly clarifying, “Catch up. Especially with my help.”

You furrowed your brows. “Excuse me?”

“Should I repeat myself?” he inquired, his heterochromatic eyes swimming in mirth. “I will assist you in your training and classes.”

You didn’t respond right away, regarding him with suspicion. You waited for him to name a condition for his help, but when he offered none, you relaxed. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You inclined your head. “I greatly appreciate it.”

“Shouto,” he corrected.

You blinked at him, taken aback. “What?”

“Shouto,” he reiterated. “You may call me Shouto. We are friends, are we not?”

You gaped at him for a moment, processing his words. “Ye-yeah!” you said a little too loudly. “We are friends, Shouto.”

The small smile that graced his lips lit up your entire world and caused your heart to speed up, pounding almost painfully against your ribcage. “Meet me here tomorrow after class.” He instructed.

“Tomorrow.” You repeated in confirmation.

His smile grew a little wider. “See you then, Y/N.” He said before turning on his heel and strolling away. You watched him go in a daze, in disbelief of what just occurred.

“Oooooooo, Y/N’s gotta date!”

You shrieked at the sudden voice and spun around for a second time to find Mina standing there, hunched over laughing at your reaction.

“Mina!” you shrieked, placing a hand over your heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

She continued to laugh. “Sorry,” she said once her laughter died down. “You were so entranced with Todoroki that you didn’t even realize I was here!”

“Oh, yeah right.” You responded, playfully rolling your eyes. The two of you began to walk to the dorm. “I wasn’t entranced with him.”

The pinkette gave you a look of disbelief, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure,” she retorted. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you ain’t lying to me.”

You scoffed but didn’t attempt to refute her claims. You put your hands in your pockets and looked to the ground, lost in thought. Mina didn’t say anything else, allowing you both to walk in silence.

The next afternoon, you met Shouto at the training grounds outside Gym Gamma for your first tutored training session. He regarded you kindly as you slowly approached, suddenly feeling quite bashful.

“Thank you for offering to do this, Shouto.” You said when you arrived. “It really means a lot. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”

“There’s no need for repayment.” He softly responded. “I volunteered to assist you. Therefore, no repayment of any sort is necessary.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I don’t want to inconvenience you—”

His soft call of your name made your next words die in your throat. “I assure you, this is fine.” He said. “Your company and attention are substantial enough.” You felt your face warm at his admission. Shouto gestured towards the training pit. “Shall we begin?”

He started by teaching you some stretches that are supposed to help decrease sudden muscle spasms and strengthen them. Afterward, he had you show him the little knowledge you had of hand-to-hand combat to gain an idea of where you stand in regard to U.A. training. Once you had demonstrated the few kicks and different styles of punching you knew, you turned to judge Shouto’s impression.

Your breath caught at what you saw.

His handsome features remained stoically blank for the most part, but the pursing of his lips and slight furrowing of his brows spoke a different tale. He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like they didn’t prepare you at all, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure.

“Shouto?” you inquired, voice slightly uneven as your mouth formed the syllables of his name. “Is everything alright?”

His beautiful eyes snapped to yours, and once again you were frozen by the intensity with which he looked at you. His gaze was calculating, and you could just about see the cogs turning in his brain as he silently regarded you. A couple long moments later, his lips parted on an exhale and he finally addressed you.

“We have a lot of work to do.” He declared. “But we already knew that.” You slowly nodded your head, curious as to where he would be going with this conversation. “Thankfully, you’re not completely helpless,” he intoned dryly. “Even though you don’t have many skills regarding physical, non-Quirk combat, I have identified several places where we can start, correct, and then build on.”

You steadied yourself, resolve firmer than ever before. You declared, “I’m ready.”

Shouto gave a quick, but detailed, overview of his plans for your ‘training tutoring’, you referred to your sessions as. He was going to teach you everything he thought you should know—which was everything he knew—in order to successfully become a Hero people could rely on.

The two of you began by improving your physique. You joined him on his early morning run along with Midoriya and Bakugou, who welcomed you with contrasting fervor. When you met for your afternoon training, you would run five kilometers before learning various grades of combat moves, and then concluding your time together by sparring.

It was established early on that neither of you would use your Quirks during your tutoring as the two of you were well-adapted to your respective Quirks—and the strict rules regarding their usage.

For the next several weeks, you worked tirelessly on your training, and your dedication and hard work paid off. At your end-of-the-month assessment, Aizawa was pleased by your rapid and exceptional improvement and announced you could stay at U.A. He also informed you that it was never his intention to expel you in the first place, but nevertheless, he was impressed by your efforts.

You and Shouto continued to grow closer as time went by. You still had your training tutoring sessions in the afternoons, and you became a regular on his early morning runs. You even hung out outside of class and training; preparing pre-workout meals and drinks together, and various study sessions at all hours of the day and night. Once, you even packed him a small canister of his favorite brand of soba noodles for lunch one of the weekends he was interning at his father’s Agency. When he came back to the dorm after his shift, he made a beeline for you and promptly informed you that from then on out, you would be solely responsible for packing his lunches.

“Now why would I do that?” you implored. You crossed your arms, awaiting his response. “Are you gonna pay me?”

Shouto slowly blinked at you in the way a cat would. “Why would I compensate you for an action you chose to do?”

You had no retort for that.

As you spent more time together, you noticed some changes. Shouto would stare at you for seemingly no reason, and whenever you called him out on it, he feigned innocence. He also sought you out more often, insisting on walking to your next class or to and from the dorm by your side. He even began to occupy you on your shopping runs, dutifully holding your bags for you. And whenever you would thank or compliment him, his whole demeanor would light up as if Aphrodite herself had shown favor towards him.

You weren’t any better, though.

If Shouto would do so much as even blink in your general direction, your heart would soar and butterflies would take flight in your stomach. At first, you brushed it off as nerves for being the subject of the Shouto Todoroki’s attention, but you were in denial, not wanting to admit what was actually occurring. Looking back, you realized that deep down, you had known all along what was happening, but at the time, you weren’t ready to admit it—to yourself and him.

Regardless of your rebuttals and lack of admission, you were falling for your dual-haired classmate, hard and fast, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

3 months later . . .

“Y/N! It’s starting! You’re gonna miss it!” Ochako shouted from the couches, the other girls of Class 3-A surrounding her, all dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the class's annual Girl’s Movie Night, which was held every couple of months. Tooru told you earlier that week that they would like to have it more often, like once a month, but given their hectic and ever-changing schedules, the girls had to settle for every few months. They took turns who got to pick out the movie. It was Mina’s turn this time. True to her nature, she selected an early 2000s chick flick set in the States.

“Hold on, wait for me!” you hollered back as you finished pouring the freshly popped popcorn into a large bowl, a few kernels spilling out as you whirled on your heels to sprint into the living area. You nearly tripped over Jirou’s legs as you practically threw yourself towards the last remaining free spot on the couch.

“Ah, sorry!” you exclaimed as you settled yourself into the cushions, checking over Jirou and your popcorn bowl. “Did I miss anything?”

“No, it’s just starting,” Momo said, taking a sip from her cup of tea as the opening credits began to roll.

“Ooh, this is one of my all-time favorite movies!” Mina squealed next to you. “Have you ever seen it before?” she asked.

You hummed, acknowledging her question. You thought hard, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen the characters on the screen before. “I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”

The pinkette gasped aloud and theatrically placed a hand on her chest, sprawling backward. “Y/N! You wound me!”

Across the room, Tooru piped up from her spot next to Asui. “How could you not have?! It’s only one of the greatest movies ever made!”

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Ochako interjected. “Gonna have to disagree.” You expected them to start arguing back and forth over what is truly the greatest movie ever made, like your friends back home would have done, but they don’t. Mina stuck her tongue out at Ochako before turning back to the movie.

You all watched the movie in relative silence, save for the light background noise of popcorn moving around in a bowl and slurping from a now-empty straw. It was nice, peaceful; a well-deserved and appreciated respite from the grinding hustle of being Pro-Heroes-in-training.

“Just confess already!” Jirou shouted at the screen as the main character allowed another opportunity for them to confess their feelings for their classmate slip through their fingers. “Gosh!” A corner of your mouth curled at her irritation. A few grumbles of agreement sounded from the others as the movie continued playing.

You had to stifle your laughter as the main characters continued to pine after one another, completely oblivious to the other’s growing feelings. I can’t believe there are actually people in the world who are like them, you silently mused. It’s so obvious they like each other. I can’t believe they don’t see it.

“Ugh, the anticipation and pining is killing me!” Tooru cried out, her slippers moving frantically in the air as she kicked her legs.

Asui raised a brow. “I thought you’ve seen this movie before?”

“Well, yeah, I have,” the invisible female said. “But the suspense still gets to me!”

“It is quite intense.” Ochako agreed. “I hope they confess soon. It hurts to see them think the other doesn’t return their feelings.”

“I don’t understand how they cannot.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. The girls turned to look at you as you continued, “I mean, they’re so obvious.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda annoying at this point,” Jirou mumbled.

Mina snickered. “Y/N, as if you’re one to talk.”

You gave her a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, come on. You’re so obvious, too, with your crush—”

You cut her off, “I do not have a crush.”

“You have a crush?” Asui asked. You and Mina responded at the same time.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, she does.”

“What is this about?” Momo inquired, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.

“Nothi—” you began but was swiftly interrupted by the pinkette next to you.

“Y/N has a crush on Todoroki!”

The girls gasped and gapped at you, eyes wide.

“I do not!” You said, face burning as you tried to mitigate the situation. “We’re not like that!”

“Oh my.” You thought you heard Momo say under her breath, but you couldn’t really hear since Tooru started shrieking with glee.

“You guys would be the cutest couple!” she exclaimed, jumping up from her spot on the couch and racing over to pull you into a tight embrace.

“I mean, it does make sense given they spend so much time together.” Ochako mused, a finger on her chin as she considered the situation.

Asui jumped on the bandwagon with, “Oh they are definitely into each other.”

“One hundred percent,” Mina agreed.

“Girl, you gotta spill the tea!” Tooru exclaimed as she pulled away. “Tell us everything!” The others voiced their agreement.

“I do admit, I am curious as to how this relationship came to be,” Momo vocalized, setting her tea cup down onto its saucer. “That is if the two of you have gotten that far into your companionship.”

You blinked at the midnight-black-haired woman, shock clouding your brain for a moment as you processed her words. “Um, n-no. We aren’t in any type of r-romantic relationship.” You clarified, but immediately you could tell certain people thought your answer was complete horse poop. “We aren’t!”

“Regardless, you guys are pretty close,” Ochako interjected. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “And all the extra training you do together.”

“The early morning runs,” Asui added.

“Okay, okay,” you threw your hands up in a placating manner. “I understand what you guys are trying to get at, but you’re wrong.”

Mina came to stand beside you, giving you a knowing look. “Girl, Y/N,” she began. “You can try with all your might to deny it, but it’s obvious what is really going on between you and Shouto.” She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And I know you know it, too.”

You stared at the pinkette, pondering her and the other’s words. You wanted to continue denying what they were saying, but you were getting tired of denying your feelings to yourself. You slumped your shoulders, the tension leaving your body as you resolved to come clean with the truth—to yourself and your friends, besides a certain dual-haired male. “Alright, fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, mentally preparing yourself for their reaction to your next statement. “I like him a little.” You confessed, looking at the floor, too afraid to meet any of their gazes.

The room was dead silent for two breaths before Mina erupted in choking laughter. “’A little’? Yeah RIGHT!” She laughed so hard that tears began to stream down her pink cheeks. After she managed to calm down a bit, she turned to face you fully, laying a hand on your knee. “Girl, you’re lying to yourself.” She told you, tone light yet serious. “We have all seen the way you look at Shouto—” the others nod in confirmation. “—and your eyes tell it all.”

You flinched as embarrassment flooded you. “Is it really that obvious?” you asked. You turned to the others to gauge their reactions. “Am I?” They all nodded.

“Definitely.”

“For sure.”

“We could see it from a mile away.”

You gasped. “Oh my,” you covered your face with your hands. “Do you think Shouto knows?”

“I doubt so,” Momo said. “Shouto is quite intelligent and a formidable force to be reckoned with, but as I’m sure you’re aware, his experience and understanding of social concepts and cues are fairly limited.”

“In other words,” Jirou interjected. “He’s none the wiser.”

You released a sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t think I’m a psycho stalker or something.

“Hey, give him some credit, guys,” Ochako remarked. “Todoroki’s more aware than he’s given credit for.”

“Moving on,” Mina said. “Have you thought about confessing your feelings to him?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, shamefully looking away. “No. . .”

“What?!”

“Really?!” Tooru shouted. “But he’s so hot!” The sleeves of her shirt crossed in front of her. “I would do anything to be his girlfriend.”

You laughed. “While you are correct about his handsomeness, I don’t even know where I would begin or how I would confess.”

“Your feelings are valid, Y/N,” Asui assured you. “Confessing one’s feelings for another is a life-changing occurrence.”

“You gotta do it before graduation in a couple months, though,” Ochako added. “If not, then you may never get another chance to do so.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked. “As Pros, wouldn’t we work together often? Why does it need to be before we graduate and turn Pro?”

“Possibly, but with our chosen line of work, there is always a possibility. . .” she trailed off with a grimace.

You understood immediately. “Oh.”

“Although rare in the line of duty, it does happen.” Momo said. “I wouldn’t worry about that though, but I agree with Ochako.”

“Plus,” Mina began, mischief glowing in her eyes. “If the two of you get together before you make your Pro Hero debut to the world, you wouldn’t have to worry about him falling in love with some random civilian he rescues on the street or another Pro.”

You nodded. “You have a point.”

“Either way, I think it will all work out in the end,” Ochako said, her cheeks widening with her smile. “I think perhaps Shouto returns your feelings, and just simply doesn’t know what to do about them or how to address them, therefore you should tell him.” The other girls voiced their agreement.

“Yeah, it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture or anything,” Jirou said.

“Just be honest with him, Y/N,” Asui said.

“Yeah, girl,” Mina added, giving you a warm smile when you met her gaze. “You got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

You squared your shoulders as a burst of confidence filled you thanks to the encouragement you received from your friends. “Okay, I will!” you loudly announced. “I will confess my feelings to him!”

The others cheered as you all held up your lemon water in a faux toast. In your happiness, none of you noticed the shadows shift in the stairwell and the soft noise of retreating footsteps on the wood.

You were screwed.

“How am I gonna tell him!?” you mewled aloud a couple of days later in the cafeteria. You dramatically slumped your forehead on the tabletop, mentally kicking yourself for allowing the girls to convince you that confessing your crush would be an easy endeavor. You felt a reassuring pat on your shoulder. Groaning, you lifted your head from the table to shoot puppy eyes at Ochako. “Ochako, help me!” you cried. “How do I confess?”

The brunette gave you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know, Y/N.” She professed, her eyes apologetic. “Proclaiming one's love for another isn’t really my strong suit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Asui mumbled under her breath before taking a sip of her drink, receiving a glare in response.

“Y/N, sweetie,” Mina cooed from your other side. “I think you’re overthinking it a little. It shouldn’t be but so hard. Just be honest with him!”

“But that is hard!” you said, waving your hands in the air. “I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘hey, Shouto, I think you’re really hot and amazing. Wanna go out with me?’”

“Sure you can,” Momo intoned, trying to reassure you. “Maybe not in those exact words, but when the time comes, you will know what to say.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. “I hope so.”

As time passed, you found that you did not, in fact, know what to say when the time came to confess your feelings to Shouto Todoroki. Whenever you were near him, you became tongue-tied and could barely speak without becoming a stuttering mess. During each interaction, Shouto would give you a long, confused look, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he watched you struggle for words. He wouldn’t comment on it, bless him, but he must’ve thought you to be a total weirdo.

Yet, he still accompanied you on the walk back to the dorm every day after classes ended, and he insisted on continuing your training sessions every weekend after he finished his shift at Endeavor’s Agency. The two of you grew closer, to your absolute delight, and yet you still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to confess your feelings to him.

Until one day . . .

You were sitting in homeroom during free period, chatting with Midoriya about the latest episode of the rebooted All Might: The Mightiest Man TV series.

“I’m telling you, Midoriya,” you said. “It doesn’t matter how much the animation and special effects have improved, the original will always be better than the reboot.” You crossed your arms and lounged back in your chair, waiting for the forest green-haired male to start sputtering his counterargument. “You can’t change my mind. I will die on this hill.”

“Are you seriously sayin—?”

A call of your name from a familiar tenor drew your attention. You turned towards the source to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. Shouto was making his way to your desk, coming to a stop right in front of you. You had to tilt your head back in order to maintain eye contact. After a moment, he turned his attention to Midoriya next to you. “Pardon me, Midoriya, but I need to speak to Y/N in private.”

You and Midoriya gaped at the dual-haired male for a good twenty seconds before you slowly rose from your seat. “O-okay.” You turned to face your green-haired companion. You hoped your eyes were conveying your inner panic as you said, “Midoriya, I’ll be back.”

All he could do was nod as he watched you follow behind Shouto, wondering why you looked so panicked to go with the male. Maybe you were constipated.

As Shouto led you toward the classroom door, Ochako and Mina shot you curious glances. When you met their gazes, they gave you a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, respectfully.

“Good luck, girl!” Mina whisper-shouted.

“You got this, Y/N,” Ochako said. You tried to match her comforting smile with your own, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

You followed behind the dual-haired male, silently wondering what was going on. Once you were outside the classroom, he led you down the hallway to a little corner nook bathed in the golden light of the afternoon.

“Shouto, is everything okay?” you asked, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?” At your inquiry, he finally came to a stop in front of a set of windows and turned to face you.

“Yes, everything is fine.” He reassured you. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

You blinked. “Okay,” you said. “Shoot.”

Shouto likewise paused at your usage of unfamiliar slang but didn’t comment on it. “Um,” he started, but drifted off, not finishing the thought. He opened his mouth only to shut it again after a moment or two without making a sound. You furrowed your brows as you continued to watch him struggle for words.

“Um, Sho?” you prodded. He didn’t respond, however, still thinking over his next words. Shouto never hesitates, you thought with a mixture of wonderment and anxiety. Is something bothering him? you thought with growing concern. You felt your heart come to a skittering stop as another horrifying conclusion came to mind; am I the problem?

“I overheard you and the other girls’ conversation on Movie Night,” he confessed at last, interrupting your spiraling train of thought. He bashfully looked away as if he was ashamed.

“Oh, okay?” you responded, absentmindedly going through the events of the night in question. Your heartbeat began to calm down to a normal rate. “What conversation?” You couldn’t think of anything in particular and were about to ask him to elaborate before the realization hit you like a freight train.

“I like him a little.”

“Okay, I will! I will confess my feelings to him!”

“Yeah, girl, you got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

Oooohhhhh.

Fuck.

Maybe he didn’t hear that particular part of the conversation! You tried to reassure yourself as you waited for Shouto to answer your question. Your heart rate picked back up as panic began to settle in. We were there for several hours. There is so much he could’ve—

“You have an admiration going on.” You hate to admit you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before his formal wording translated into modern speech. You have a crush.

FUCK!

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” you rushed out, trying to save face and whatever friendship you had with Shouto. You felt your cheeks burn. “Please, just forget you ever heard that!”

Shouto snapped his head to you as your words registered in his brain. “Why would I do that?” he asked after a moment. “We live in the same building with shared living space, barely anything is not overheard by another.”

Oh God, how much did he overhear?

“Besides,” he continued. “At our age, it is completely natural for one to harbor feelings for another.”

You blinked at him as his words registered, your cheeks now tingling due to the burn. Gosh, he sounds like a grandpa giving the birds and the bees talk.

“It—it’s j-just,” you stammered. “I-I-I—” You let out a harsh breath in frustration when your words continued to fail you. Shouto raised a brow before his eyes narrowed. Your heart sank when you saw that.

Oh great, he’s annoyed!

“Are you all right?” he asked before moving so he was right in front of you. You squeaked at the sudden warmth of his body heat as he placed a hand on your forehead. “Do you feel ill? You feel warm, and your face looks to be flushed with some perspiration gathering on your forehead.” His eyes frantically looked you up and down as he examined you for any further signs of sickness. “I should get you to Recovery Girl.”

“N-no!” you exclaimed when he went to sweep you off your feet. “Sh-Shouto, I—I’m fine, really. I’m n-not s-sick.”

“Oh?” Shouto blinked in confusion and, adorably, subtly tilted his head to the side. “Then why are you so febrile? And you are stuttering?”

“It’s not because I am sick. I’m just em-embarrassed.” You whispered the last part, and you couldn’t help but look away from Shouto in shame.

“Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed, Y/N?” You shut your mouth, refusing to speak. Shouto sensed your hesitation. The light slowly left his heterochromatic eyes and he bashfully looked away from you. “Is . . . is it because you don’t want to be seen with me?” he asked. “For fear that your crush will see us together and not return your affection?”

You let out a gasp in surprise. “What? No!” You are quick to reassure him—your actual crush—of your intentions. “That’s not it at all!”

Shouto met your gaze again. His eyes lit up with what looked like . . . anticipation? Hope? You weren’t sure, but your heart began to race in trepidation. “Then what is it?”

“I like you,” you blurted out. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide from your drowning embarrassment. “Like, not even a little bit, but, like, really, really like you.” You whispered from behind your hands.

There was no immediate response from the dual-haired male. You didn’t dare to remove your hands from your face to check if he was still standing in front of you.

He probably didn’t hear me. You internally slapped yourself upside the head.

Before you could react, Shouto was carefully removing your hands from your face. His touch was gentle, like he was afraid you would crack and break under his fingertips. “Why are you hiding from me?” he whispered. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him.

“I—I.” Despite your efforts, words weren’t able to come out of your mouth.

“You should never feel like you need to hide,” he continued. He let out an airy tsk before he reached his hand up and gently tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. You felt your face heat up even more at the action. “Especially from me.”

What.

“W-what?” you voiced aloud. You blinked a couple times, trying to bring your brain back from the brink of short-circuiting.

Shouto chuckled lowly, moving impossibly closer into your space. “I think you need to get your hearing checked out, love.”

You blinked some more. “What?”

“Have I broken you?” he asked, the corner of his perfect lips turning up at the thought. “First you forget your words, and now you have lost your hearing. . .” he trailed off as he continued to stare intently into your eyes.

What is he playing at. . .? you wondered as you blankly stared at him.

The two of you stood there and took each other in for quite a while. In reality, it mustn’t have been for very long—at most a minute and a half—but to you, it felt like hours. You were so close you could see the light reflecting in his heterochromatic eyes and the small streaks of gray in the turquoise-colored one.

“I . . . like you, too,” Shouto suddenly confessed, violently snapping you out of the daze his proximity causes. “I have harbored feelings for you for some time now.”

WHAT!?

“You . . . do?” you asked, skeptical. You were hesitant to believe his words in fear that this whole thing was some sick prank. But—

No. Shouto isn’t that type of person, you thought. He barely understands humor as it is, so he must be telling the truth.

“I do,” he confirmed.

“Oh, um.” You fumbled again for words, embarrassment flooding your entire system once more. You licked your dry lips, missing the way Shouto’s eyes locked onto the movement. “Cool.”

Shouto blinked at you, one of his perfect eyebrows raising. “Cool?” he repeated with a sly smile overcoming his lips.

“Mhm.” You dumbly nodded. “Cool.” You paused before muttering a small, “Ditto.”

He chuckled again, subtly moving the tiniest bit closer to you. He was just about crowding you into the corner at this point. “Ditto, huh?” He mumbled under his breath with a widening smirk playing at his lips. “I think I have broken you, dear.”

You grinned. “Perhaps.” Shouto chuckled again before falling silent. The two of you stared at the other, lost in each other’s gazes.

“Can I kiss you?” He spoke on an exhale, his deep voice somehow even deeper. Before you could internally flip the fuck out and fully comprehend what was happening, you were already nodding. That was all the confirmation Shouto needed before he brought your lips in for a sensual kiss. Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as you relaxed into him.

You smiled into the kiss. Thank you, chopsticks.

The next day, you and Shouto walked into the classroom holding hands. Everyone collectively stopped what they were doing to openly gape at the two of you as Shouto, always the gentleman, escorted you to your seat. The shocked silence lasted all but three seconds before Mina and Tooru let out ear-piercing shrieks and practically tackled you.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Mina was shouting meanwhile Tooru was holding onto you so tight to the point that she was nearly crushing you into her invisible body.

“AHHHH, I knew this was gonna happen!” she exclaimed before somehow pulling you in closer.

“Can’t . . . breathe.” You wheezed out before your boyfriend pulled you away from the two fangirls and protectively held you to his chest.

“I would be grateful if you didn’t crush my girlfriend to death, Tooru.” He intoned in his naturally dry tenor. His statement only made them freak out even more.

“Ah! Look at the two love birds!” Ochako swooned.

“Fuckin’ disgustin’,” grumbled a deep voice from somewhere in the back of the room.

Before you could turn to shoot Bakugou a death glare, Shouto was already clapping back. “What, are you jealous, Bakugou?”

The desks which had surrounded the blond a moment prior were blown to shiverines.

“I’LL END YOU!”

Fin.

→ extras: snapshot 1, snapshot 2, fic tag

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