What's In A Virtue (Kyle "Gaz" Garrick X Reader)

hahahaha just watched top gun: maverick and have begun preparing for my rooster phase

welp guess I’m into mustaches now

Not a request but girl your writing is just *chefs kiss* and i just wanna say you deserve the world and more please take care of yourself and ily stay safe!!!❤❤✨

Oof someone kind enough to write this message deserves the world💜

I’m glad you like my writing and thank you so much🥰🥰 take care of yourself too, kind anon🥺💜

April Showers (Benny Watts x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: All dolled up and ready to confess, you await a certain chess champion’s visit as a thunderstorm rages outside. But the longer your phone call stretches on, the closer you realize he may be to feeling the same about you.

A/N: long time no see y’all. So as it turns out, life is a disaster. funny how that works. anyways, here’s some benny watts bc he’s hot. hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2075

Outside, the rain poured enough to drown the city life. People fled indoors, hair and clothing drenched, umbrellas shivering with droplets. Few taxis were roaming the streets, save for those catching the poor, wandering souls whose homes were nowhere near the concrete jungle in which they trudged.

You curled your finger tighter around the cord of your telephone. A small grin began to tease at your lips, pestering at the corners and daring to smudge upon your front teeth the pale pink lipstick you wore. 

Had you gone anywhere today? You couldn’t quite remember. And yet, there you were, sitting in your third-floor apartment, draped in your nicest day dress, a little black number that flashed your décolleté, and nothing more. 

You hated the dress—despised it, in fact. The broadcloth fabric tickled at every seam, the skirt, even on a day with a light breeze, always wanted to leave little to the imagination, and you didn’t own a single pair of flats that complemented well, despite its impartial color. 

But he liked it. 

You’d been wearing it when you both first met.

Your eyes gleam as you murmur into the telephone, still watching the road in front of your apartment. Your window has grown fogged, streaks of raindrops smearing here and there, and you lean further against the sill. The bruised clouds show no signs of stopping.

Like it was yesterday, you remembered every second of it; the scent of musk, of leather and aftershave and—was that cinnamon?—flooding your senses after colliding with a solid figure. Two hands had grasped your shoulders in effort to steady you, and—God—how you couldn’t forget the feeling of his fingertips against your bare skin.

Soft. That’s what you admired most about him. Despite his rough exterior and deliberate personality, he was unpredictably, endearingly soft. You curled your head closer to the phone, cupping it against your face as though his words were a caress upon your cheek. A breathless laugh escaped you. “Is that right?”

‘Are you all right?’ That day, he’d dipped his head to meet your gaze after you stumbled from the impact, and shaded eyes scanned yours beneath the wide brim of a cowboy hat. Your breath hitched.

Brown, but not one of those plain browns that was easily forgettable; these were one of those browns that would haunt you for days, the ones you could imagine wandering all over you, making you feel that jittery, hot anxiousness that simultaneously makes you want to tighten your clothes around yourself or strip them off altogether. You had let yourself get lost in them for longer than what was socially acceptable, especially with a stranger. 

But for that time, all you could imagine was diving into them a little longer, getting a little closer to see if they were really that dark, deep umber they seemed to be, or if it was just the shadow of his hat. 

‘I’m fine,’ you’d reassured with a tight smile, though it was the growing flush to your cheeks that made you so tense rather than frustration with the collision. It was warm, too warm, and, even worse, it was embarrassing to become so flustered so easily. 

A corner of his mouth had lifted, and his hands retreated from your shoulders. ‘Sorry about that. I should’ve paid more attention.’

The more you pored over the interaction, and every interaction following that, the more you noticed it at every fleck of his words—the hint of a Southern accent. During the day, it slipped past the ears without notice, but when it came to later hours and earlier mornings, it was thick and heavy off his tongue. Often, his voice would lower an octave. A dangerous gruffness would hang on his every word, and a tightness in his jaw kept his words drawled. 

‘Ah, uh, me too.’ You’d shrugged casually, hoping that in some way it might disguise the terrible tremble of your hands. ‘Just been looking for the mirror.’ You gestured down at the black dress your friend had forced you to try on, silently cursing at the way it wrinkled in all the wrong places and hung loose in others. Of course, you remembered thinking to yourself that day, of all the times you were to run into an attractive boy—no, attractive man, it had to be this moment, donned in the most uncomfortable frock imaginable. 

Slowly, his gaze followed the gesture. A careful, brown scan trailed from the bare skin at your collar bone, following the buttoned path down to the fabric pinched at your waist, and finished at the rippling skirt at your knees. His lips twitched, and for one unbearable moment, he was utterly silent. 

All you could think about was how stupid it had been for you to draw more attention to yourself, as if he couldn’t already see the sweating beading at your forehead, or the heartbeat in your throat. This man was sucking the air from your lungs, leaving you breathless and fidgety and nervous and hyper and taut all at the same time. A terrible mixture. And the one thing you had left to do was damn every haphazard, insubstantial interaction you’d ever had with handsome males that had left you so inadequate for this situation. 

Then his gaze flicked up to you, somewhat darker as he tipped his hat towards you and smirked, a gentle curl of his lips, before clearing his throat. ‘I like it. It looks beautiful on you, Miss…?’

His question had hung in the air, marinating until you could bring yourself back down to reality with a harsh bite on your tongue. ‘YN. YLN,’ you mumbled. ‘A-and you are?’

‘Benny. Watts.’

“Benny Watts, don’t you dare tell me that you’re only in this city for a chess tournament.” You shook your head, an unabashed grin overwhelming your face when he chuckled from the other end. “I did my research, you know.”

“Oh yeah, princess? What’d you find?” There was shuffling from his end, and you heard what must have been jangling coins, but dismissed it.

“The only tournament here is for the state title.”

“Yeah?”

“So you’re telling me that the US Champion wants to play chess against forty-year-olds with nothing better to do, and university students?”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m strapped for cash.”

You curled further into the sofa, hugging the telephone base closer to your chest and fiddling with the rotary dial. “Bullshit.”

He’d told you he was a chess player that day, and a good one at that. Said he’d travel all over the country to play, sometimes the world. You almost didn’t believe it, until he’d led you over to the magazine rack and pulled the latest edition of Chess Review. 

‘Here,’ he probed the front pocket of his trench coat, revealing a wallet. ‘You should keep it.’ Wordlessly, he passed a few bills to the cashier near the door. ‘And the dress.’

‘No, you shouldn’t just-’

He flashed you a smile and tipped his hat, already halfway out the door. ‘I already did, princess.’ Then he winked. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll meet again.’

“Well, princess, I do so love to be the best in your eyes, but I have to say there are some strong up-and-comers nowadays.”

“Same excuse you used last time.”

“Damn,” he whistled, letting out a sigh. “Can’t slip anything past you, can I?”

But he had, once. Just once.

‘Well,’ your friend had appeared beside you after he slipped out of the department store, causing you to flinch. ‘Now we know the dress works.’

You’d huffed, trying to summon the effort to throw her a glare, but the rapid thumping of your heart had been making any and all anger difficult. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’

‘Well damn,’ she smiled slyly and shook her head with disbelief, ‘you should look for me a lot more often.’

And as the pair of you watched him walk away, you’d spotted a small tuft of blond hair peeking out between the brim of his hat and the collar of his leather trench coat, and cursed at how well it all took your breath away. You had to agree with her. 

“Not anymore. You know I love to hear about your wins, Benny, but not like this.”

“Aw, you flatter me.” You could imagine the way he was fiddling with his hat at this point, dragging a finger across the brim or perhaps readjusting it altogether. “Here I thought you were getting tired of my chess talk.”

“I wouldn’t have stayed on the call if I was. Plus, you get all cute after you’ve won a game.”

On the other end of the line, Benny scoffed incredulously. “Cute? Did you just say cute?”

You leaned your head back, biting your lip. “Yeah, you know, it’s adorable the way you get all excited when they give up.”

“Adorable? Excited?”

“Yep.”

“...You’ve never seen me play a single game, have you?”

Finally, he was back in town. He’d called and told you ahead of time that he was headed over from New York; that he’d signed up for a tournament and had arranged to stay at a local hotel, and that he was wondering if you could meet up somewhere. 

Somewhere.

Meet up.

Hotel.

As if he hadn’t been planning on staying in your apartment anyway. As if the plan was to share a couple drinks and a couple laughs, the way you’d done it so many times before. As if the second before last phone call you’d had with him hadn’t ended with him almost telling you he loved you—just before he broke himself off with a stutter and mumbled something about having to hang up. 

And now he was coming here. 

The conversation had fallen into a natural lull, and it was then you took note of how painfully hot your cheeks were despite the cold weather exuding from your window. Your fingertips were frozen, you realized, as you gnawed on your thumbnail. 

“Benny, I…” You dug your nails into your arm, eyes clenched shut. “I really miss you.”

His breath hitched.

The silence grew suffocating. 

Your heart thumped painfully, and the dress began to itch. 

Then he exhaled. “I miss you too.” He shuffled on the other end. “So fucking much, princess. Look out your window.”

“What?”

Your gaze darted outside. The sun was just setting, and the sky had grown more black during your call. The lone street lamp shining into the phone booth was the only reason you could see him. 

He was supposed to be waiting for a cab at the university—that’s what he’d told you, at least. 

Instead, in the foggy glass box, he raised his hand, fingers flashing in a short wave. 

“Benny.”

“I couldn’t wait.”

When your form disappeared from the window, he hung up. When you raced down the stairs of your apartment complex, he abandoned the phone booth. 

And when you burst through the front doors, he opened his arms, grunting as you collided with his chest, chuckling as the motion flung the damp hat from his head. 

“Now who’s excited?” he mumbled into your hair.

He was completely soaked from what must have been a two-hour walk through a thunderstorm. The damp sleeves of his leather coat began seeping through the dress fabric at your waist. Droplets from his hair dripped onto your cheek. 

Then he pulled away, tilted up your head with a lone hand on your jaw, and crashed his frozen lips against yours, as though trying to absorb whatever warmth you would give him. God, even his ring chilled you to the bone.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. Not as you drew him up the stairs, back into your apartment. Not as you both shed layers upon layers, peeling back whatever separated the two of you, until it was solely skin on skin and nothing more. 

And when the steam of the shower obscured your view of him, he sought you out on his own, searching for you and curling himself around you, planting his lips against your throat as his fingers secured the softness of your hips. 

“Princess?” he mumbled into your skin, sweet honey dripping off his accent and soaking into your skin. 

“Hmm?” Your fingers danced along his scalp as you dragged them through the blond tufts, suds floating down the drain. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You Told Me So (Sugawara x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: He was right. You should've brought a jacket before trekking outside on a rainy day. You just wish he would say he was right. 

A/N: Should I start watching Avatar: The Last Airbender? Anyways, here’s a lil imagine I got an idea for from this prompt by @otpdisaster​. Hope y’all like it!

Word count: 1684

        You made a mistake. 

        “YN, wear a jacket before you go out!”

        “I’ll be fine, babe.”

        You were wrong. Rain seeped through your clothes quicker than you thought possible. All it was supposed to be was a quick run to the store. The day was sunny and the sidewalk could blister bare feet when you had left. Sugawara had repeatedly warned you about the day’s weather report, but you were certain you could beat it out. If only you had listened.

        The short-sleeve t-shirt you wore was absolutely soaked, along with your flimsy black leggings. The tag on your tennis shoes had claimed they were waterproof when you had first bought them; apparently that was wrong. Puddles splashed and your socks squelched with every step you took, and all you could do was feel sorry for yourself. Every few seconds you twitched with an involuntary shiver as you made your way home. 

        Thunder rumbled overhead as the day came to a close. It was around seven at night, and although your boyfriend was sweet, no one could resist the smugness of your situation. He was right. With chattering teeth, you stumbled up the steps to his house, halting only to take a deep breath at his door. 

        Yeah, that’s right, you were nervous. No shame in that…. Never mind, all shame in that. You were never one to back down, even when you knew you were in the wrong, and right now, you were really in the wrong. Fist raised over the door, you couldn’t help but just stand there, biting your trembling bottom lip and sniffling occasionally. This is gonna be so embarrassing. 

        Knock knock.

        Movements inside the house are audible from your placement in front of the door, and you suck in a breath when the lock clicks. As soon as the man on the other side spots you, the entryway whips open in the blink of an eye. 

        “YN,” Sugawara breathes out, but you hold up a hand to stop him from continuing. 

        “I know what you’re gonna say,” you exclaim before avoiding his intense gaze, “but- oof.”

        Air puffs out of your lips in a visible cloud as he tackles you in a bear hug. The drastic change in temperature compels you to sigh, and you tuck your red-tipped nose into his collarbone. 

        “God, you’re freezing, YN!” With one final squeeze, Sugawara pulls away and tugs you inside, sealing away the glacial climate with a slam of the door. He drops his hands on your trembling shoulders and ushers you to his living room, plopping you down on his couch before exiting without another word. 

        You, on the other hand, were frozen in surprise. All you could do was sit blindsided on the suede cushions, arms laying limply by your sides as your shoes oozed rainwater on the redwood floors. The TV across from you lit up your face with your favorite series, all ready to be watched. It was, after all, date night. 

        Footfalls patter back into the room before Sugawara stands before you, holding out a pile of clothes. “Here,” he helps you up off the couch and leads you down a dim hallway, “you need to change before you catch a cold. I just hope you don’t already have one.” You arrive at your destination, his bedroom, where he passes you the dry clothing with furrowed brows. “I’ll be in the kitchen, so just holler if you need something.”

        And with that, he leaves you to change in the comfort of your own privacy. Throughout all of this, the only thing you could do was watch with wide eyes at his actions. 

        You knew your boyfriend, but you also knew basic human instinct. Why is he not rubbing this in my face? You were baffled at his self-control, at his ability to resist the urge to stick it to you. 

        Like seriously, come on! What kind of person doesn’t say “I told you so” after something like this?

        “God, he’s too perfect.” You shake your head and pick through the outfit he gave you. A large, baggy sweatshirt and black sweatpants. Both types of clothing that you often steal from him on a weekly basis. Your heart stutters at the selection, and you laugh softly at his observational skills. “Who the hell am I dating?”

        Damp hair, pruned fingers, and trembling muscles. You were quite the sight to behold, and you actively avoided the mirror on your wall. Slipping on the new, soft clothes, you let out a relieved breath at the shift in sensations. You reveled in the oversized fabrics with ease, flapping the too-long sleeves and cinching the sweatpants’ strings until they no longer sagged below your hips. 

        Still wary of his surprising affection, you hesitantly creep out into the hallway, leaving your damp clothes behind in his laundry basket. You would grab them before you left. On your way to the living room, you pass the kitchen and find Sugawara still inside, rinsing out a pot in the sink. Two mugs rest on the marble counter, steaming and teeming with white marshmallows. The scent of rich chocolate hangs in the air, and you don’t hesitate to join him in the room. 

        Winding your goosebump-covered arms around his slim waist, you embrace him from behind and hum gently. “I hope some of that’s for me.”

        “Of course, baby,” he chuckles, grabbing the hot chocolates before trailing you over to the living room. It’s darker than before, and your show still waits on the large screen, paused just at a recap of the previous episode. Sugawara lays them down on the coffee table before turning in your arms, returning the hug and rubbing your back comfortingly. 

        “You still feel cold,” he places a hand on your forehead and tsks. “Let me go get some blankets. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He forces you down on the couch once again and steps away to search in his hall closet. 

        Every action he does leaves your heart thumping, even though you’ve been dating for a little over a year. He was still so sweet, and you still struggle to comprehend how you managed to catch a guy like him. 

        “Whatcha smiling about?” Sugawara smirks at you, dropping a pile of blankets on your lap the size of Mount Everest. 

        “You,” you reply honestly, almost purring when he wraps the thick comforters around your shoulders tightly. After every single one is draped around you, your boyfriend only grins in response, dropping down onto the couch beside you and winding an arm around your waist. 

        He hands you your scalding mug before grabbing his own, and you allow your frost-bitten fingers to pat the burning porcelain carefully. While taking ginger, intermittent sips, you both bask in each other's presence and enjoy the television entertainment. 

        An hour passes, and you both have moved to lie back against the couch. Your light-haired boyfriend rests underneath you while you sprawl out on his chest, greedily accepting any warmth he has to offer. One hand rests on your hip while the other brushes through your hair tenderly, and both of your own lose feeling underneath his form, but you don’t have the energy to move them. 

        The only sounds in the room are your level inhales and exhales and the show quietly droning on in the background as you embrace each other. Your eyes are barely staying open, but in a split second, a tickle hits you. 

        “Achoo!” 

        Aw crap.

        Sugawara cracks up lightly underneath you and squeezes your hip. “Bless you.”

         The kind gesture brings up all your past grievances of the day. He was just… so nice! Why?! That’s all he had to say? Nothing like “I knew you were gonna get sick.”

        His politeness made you huff and roll your eyes. Plopping your chin on his chest, you flick his forehead to get him to face you. His head turns to you, and his warm, chocolate-colored eyes are filled with an indescribable warmth that just makes you ughhhh.

        “Why?” you pipe up suddenly, dropping your hand to draw random patterns on his cheek. His face tinges pink at the feeling, but his brows furrow at your question. 

        “Why what?” You sigh. 

        “Why are you being so nice about this?” You poke his skin frustratedly, but not enough to hurt him. You could never. Not with those puppy dog eyes. “I didn’t listen to you, or your warnings, and now I might be sick. And all you’ve done is make me hot chocolate and cuddle me!” 

        Sugawara exhales a chuckle at your question and shakes his head amusedly. “Well, what did you think I was gonna do?”

        “I thought you were gonna say ‘I told you so’ and then do all this stuff.”

        “I’m not evil, YN.”

        “I know,” you facepalm, “but the fact that you haven’t said it is kinda creeping me out. It’s like one of those things that humans always do.” Your boyfriend nibbles at his lower lip thoughtfully. 

        “So, you really want me to say it?”

        “Yes please, I would feel much better if you did.” He snorts at this, stroking your silky strands slower now. 

        “All right,” he murmurs, nodding his head, “here it goes: I told you so.” 

        Accepting his words, you mumble a small thank you and allow the room to return to fall into silence. All is well, and the atmosphere grows peaceful once more as your cuddling resumes. Sugawara’s eyes close happily and he smiles into your hair, enjoying the fruity scent it emanates. You snuggle deeper into his solid chest, savoring the warmth he exudes and nuzzling your cheek against him lovingly before scoffing.

       “God, I knew you were gonna say that.”

hi,,, do u still take requests? if so uhm :( can u write an akaashi x reader au based on burn fr0m hamilton?

Burned Promises (Akaashi x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Every letter he wrote you was useless now. After he cheated, they were filled with  nothing but lies, and what was the point of keeping lies lying around? (Based on Hamilton song “Burn.”)

A/N: Requests are open :)! I’ve never watched Hamilton, so… let’s just hope this is what you wanted. BUT I DID MY RESEARCH. Now it’s not this whole Hamilton/Haikyuu rewrite, but I did take the gist of the song and write it for Akaashi, so I hope you like it! Enjoy!

Word count: 1217

        When you had first met Akaashi, he had enchanted you. The way he spoke so eloquently, how he held himself so purposefully. His looks had struck you first, with black locks tussled so perfectly atop his head and gunmetal blue eyes that struck your heart. 

       He had bewitched you. 

       Since the day you met, it appeared you had captured his attention as well. He wrote you letters, and much like the way he delivered his words by mouth, he delivered them through pen potently. 

       Every paper you received filled you with euphoria. Seeing your name scripted in personalized swirls of his hand lit your love aflame. But it was the sentences, the paragraphs he crafted so passionately that kept you entranced.

       “My angel, every second I spend away from you is a second of my life wasted.”

       You felt the same.

       “Unlike what others say, your love has strengthened me and filled me with purpose.”

       You felt the same.

       “My angel, we were meant to be. Every thought in my consciousness has been overtaken by the image of you.” You felt the same. “Bliss floods my heart when I receive mail graced with your devotion. I devour your every word like a man starved the longer we are apart. Please, my angel, send more to me. Each piece you send me fills the whole your parted presence has left. I am yours, and your cherishes will fuel me till the end of time.”

       You felt the same. Or apparently you felt some way. 

       In the streets of your own town, on some random day, you began to feel like an outcast. People observed you with pity and sorrow. 

       “Poor girl.” 

       “What a shame.”

       “No one deserves that.”

       What were they talking about?

       It didn’t take long for news to travel one step farther. Your friend enveloped you in a hug and rubbed your back soothingly after you had shown up on her doorstep in tears. 

       “I should have listened to you.” 

       She had warned you months ago to watch him, be careful around him. She had said that one day, he would hurt you, and she was right. 

       After months and months of letters exchanging affection and tenderness, Akaashi had broken your heart. He cheated with another woman and hadn’t even had the gall to tell you first. 

       No, you had to learn from others. People who barely even knew you told you that your relationship had fallen apart. 

                               ~~~

       That night, Akaashi slipped into the house with a grimace. In search of you, he followed the sounds of a crackling fire and entered the living room. You were seated with your back to him, facing the chimney with your knees on the hardwood floor. Your entire form slumped as you settled back on your heels. 

       He hesitated to enter, instead clenching his jaw and standing in the doorway. 

       “Angel…”

       “Don’t.”

       Your voice was quiet and scratchy as you spat the word. From what he could see, your hands were laid out in your lap, holding something. 

       The flickering flames were the only thing lighting the dark room, hissing and battling each other to grow stronger. Silence overlaid the tense atmosphere, and Akaashi found himself unable to breathe. His hands twitched by his side, the hands that had touched another woman. 

       He wanted to hold you, comfort you if possible. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. 

       You heaved a sigh and lifted your head, previously dropped low, and stared into the burning heat. With all the composure you could muster, you unlatched the fireplace door and pulled it open, letting your eyes water at the increased light. 

       And then you threw one in. His first letter. 

       Akaashi inhaled swiftly at the sight but he didn’t move a muscle. 

       He had meant every word he had written in those letters. Things had just… gotten messy and grown to be too much at one point. 

       At least, that’s the excuse he told you. 

       “I don’t care,” you muttered in response, observing another letter with a snarl before feeding it to the crackling flames. The parchment was engulfed in seconds, and every sentence that had ever made your heart twinge scorched up with a tsss.

       The pile of papers dwindled down to one, and you scanned it over for a split second. 

       “I will always be yours.”

       It charred into smoky flakes just as quickly as the others. 

       You wiped away a wave of tears and closed the door to the chimney before smoothing out the skirt of your nightgown. Then you rose to your feet and closed your eyes, taking one long, deep breath. 

       The peace didn’t last long.

       Your gaze flew open at the feeling of a hand settling on your shoulder. 

       “YN, I still love y-” 

       You threw off Akaashi’s grip and whipped around, giving him a fierce glare. 

       “I hope you burn in hell.” 

       His eyes dropped and his cheek twitched at the words. 

       After a few minutes, you could no longer stand the sight of him. Your heart ached to think that he could betray you in such a way. He said he was mine.

       You wished you could forget it all. Not only what he had done, but everything before. The first kisses, the first touches, the first anything.

       You wanted to forget the strong arms that had caressed you to sleep at night. You wanted to forget the long fingers that had combed through your hair. The soft smiles, only for you. The flicker in his eyes that spoke volumes. The tenderness of the lips that had kissed you, brushed over every inch of you. 

       Akaashi wasn’t yours anymore. And God how you wish that wasn’t true. 

       With a shake of your head, you made your way out of the living room, pausing only in the doorway to glance back at him.

       He stood with his head hanging low, but, as if he felt the weight of it, he looked up to meet your gaze. 

       His eyes, pools of deep indigo with the occasional fleck of cyan, stared at you deeply. They glimmered with hope. 

       You wouldn’t be so cruel as to feed it. 

       You turned away with a trembling frown and continued on your trek up the stairs. Footsteps attempted to follow you to the bedroom, but you threw a halting hand over your shoulder and shook your head. The strides slowed to a stop behind you, and you could swear you heard a silent whine. 

       He was broken over what had happened too. But that didn’t mean you forgave him. 

       You couldn’t face him as you said it, but one half of your bed would be empty for a while. 

       “Sleep on the couch for now, Keiji.” 

       God, I hope he burns.

Pumpkin Eater (Kuroo x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Last night, your friend sent you pictures of Kuroo with some girl at a random club. In short, not only was he a liar, but he was also a cheater, and you couldn’t stand to be with him after this.

A/N: Okay, so just to be clear: this was originally going to be a Taehyung (BTS) fanfic but I didn’t wanna mess with my masterlist bc I’m lazy. *This means Kuroo is aged up and a little ooc.*  I also didn’t really wanna ruin my image of him by writing a cheating fic, but I just wanted to write some angst tonight. I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 1679

        You saw them. Pictures of him and another girl at some club. Last night, he said he was hanging out with his teammates, and you had only nodded your head, so innocent at the time. If only you knew, then maybe the pain would hurt less. Maybe.

       The door opens in your peripheral vision while you sit on the couch, back straight and eyes downcast. 

       “How was practice?” Kuroo hadn’t noticed you sitting in the dark room. He flinches at the sudden question. 

       “It was good.” With a small glance in your direction, he halts on his path to the kitchen in search of dinner. “Are you okay, kitten?” 

       “I’m fine.” It’s a lie, and you both know it, but somewhere deep down you wanted one last moment of serenity with him. Just one, before the storm hit, before the skyscraper crumbled, before your relationship ended.

       “Come on, tell me the truth.” He plops down on the couch beside you and wraps a reassuring arm around your shoulders. A bittersweet emotion floods through your system at the action. It relaxes you, but on how many other women did it have the same effect? 

       Your chest is tight and thanks to his proximity, you don’t want to breathe. What if he notices how every intake of air trembles and shivers with what you hope is pure anger and frustration at him, but is actually sorrow and agony? What if he forces you to end this before you have enough time to revel in his warmth, in the love you still have for him? Your mind aches at the flurry of thoughts running rampant. 

       “Okay,” you admit, “I’m not fine.” When his head drops on your shoulder in a comforting manner, you repress the urge to hurl. Please don’t touch me, but please don’t stop touching me. You never wanted to lose him, but it seems he was never yours to lose in the first place. 

       The dim living room is silent aside from the television chattering in the corner. Replayed, forced laugh tracks only deepen your misery, making a joke of your pain. The space smells like the rain Kuroo had tracked inside, the drops having soaked into his hanging jacket by the door and into the pants that rub against your bare legs. 

       “You can tell me anything, kitten. You know that.” Rage bubbles deep in your chest at his words and you yank away from his grip, propelling yourself to the other half of the sofa and throwing him a glare.

       “Can you?” Deep in your mind, you wonder if he has the decency to admit what he did, but you know him better than that. Not once has he ever even admitted to sneaking your last cookie, even as you watched him choke on it. Kuroo’s eyes widen at your words and he nervously shifts to face you.

       “What are you talking about?” he gulps, looking everywhere but you. He bends one leg under the other and anxiously taps his fingers against it, a nervous habit you’d noticed when you first began a relationship with him. On your second date, it was adorable. When he tried to avoid admitting he cheated, it was aggravating. 

       “I think you know what.” Your gaze burns into the side of his skull with just enough pressure that he cracks. 

       “I swear it was an accident!” The confession is weak and rushed, but it doesn’t hesitate to trample all over your heart. Tears sting your eyes and paint your cheeks while you bite your lip to distract from any nonphysical pain. It doesn’t work. No matter how hard you scrunch up your face and clench your teeth, it just doesn’t work. Fury and resentment for his betrayal roll off you in waves. 

       “Oh, so your dick just accidentally slipped right into her?” you laugh bitterly. “What, did you fall on a banana peel?” Kuroo can’t stand your shaky words and he looks to the side with flared nostrils. A hand is now twirling around the strings of his sweatshirt, a movement you’ve been subconsciously mocking this whole time on your own clothes. The clothes you borrowed from him. 

       “You weren’t supposed to find out.”

       “Oh, well that makes this whole situation so much better,” you scoff. “I’m so glad I wasn’t supposed to find out!” Your voice raises to a wobbling yell and he jumps. With a snarl, you stand up from the couch and try to stomp away. His rough hand covers your own and stops you.

       “YN, please! Let’s talk about this!” 

       “No!” you shout in his face, yanking away from his grip and returning to your path. 

       Your bedroom is deathly quiet and cold compared to the unbearable heat in the living room. Thoughts run wild through your head while you load a bag with everything you own. Clothing, cords, anything you use in the shower, it all weighs down the backpack. At last, you’re only missing one thing. But as you reach for your phone on the nightstand, a picture breaks your intense focus. 

       It’s you and him on your five-month anniversary. The amusement park ride you had just gotten off is far behind you two in the background. Kuroo’s frozen in pure joy, beaming at your green face while you stare back at him with adoring eyes. 

       His arms are around your waist, yours are around his neck, and distantly you remember the other pictures from that moment. The one where he had pressed a kiss to your nose, and the one where you had yacked on his shoes directly after. The corner of your lips quirks up at the memory just as a drop splatters onto the frame, soon followed by more and more until it looks like raindrops racing on a window.

       Your sniveling is silent as you hug the photo to your chest, sitting down on the bed. Every breath is trembling and every unheard sob racks through your body. It hurts so much. When the door creaks open, you wipe your cheeks swiftly with one sleeve of Kuroo’s sweatshirt. 

       “YN,” he murmurs, peering in at you. His face is puffy and flushed, much like how you imagine your own. 

       You don’t respond, so he enters slowly, gently making his way over to you. Suddenly, he drops to his knees in front of you and tangles his arms around your waist. You tense at the feeling of his face shoved forcibly against your stomach as he leans over your thighs, crying into you.

       “Please don’t leave me,” he whimpers in a disheveled heap against your lap. “Please don’t do this.” The onslaught of tears causes his body to shiver uncontrollably, shaking yours in return. Eventually, his volume grows. Every regretful moan and howl begins to break you down bit by bit, echoing throughout the house until you finally drop your hands into his hair.  While your own eyes grow wet once more, you tenderly comb through the wild, black tufts.

       “Tetsurou.” He squeezes you tighter and you choke out a sob. “Tetsurou, come on.” You tug up against his scalp but he only shakes his head.

       “Please don’t do this, YN.” It’s a broken whisper, and you feel it more than you hear it. Each slowing breath exhales into your abdomen hotly while he slips away reluctantly. On his knees, he stares up at you pleadingly. His warm, hazel eyes pierce right through your heart while his large hands remain on your thighs, running up and down at a deliberate pace.

       “Please,” he mumbles once again, pressing a kiss to your bare kneecap before nuzzling his forehead against it, fingers trailing down to your calves.  The word slips out of his mouth repeatedly, each one hoarser than the last. 

       Through all of this, your heart races and stutters unsteadily while your head aches from the day you’ve had. You return to brushing his hair to calm him, but your eyes lazily wander to the bag beside you. It’s completely packed. You have a friend in the city you can live with. Your phone is sitting directly on top of the pack, just begging you to call her. You know what you have to do. 

       “I have to.” Kuroo freezes and your chest pounds while you reach for your bag. 

       “Please,” he whispers once more, not moving a muscle from his seat on the floor. You slip out of his grasp and grab your things, exiting the room with a broken heart. Hurried footsteps race after you just as you open the door to the outside.

       “I’ll do anything!” he cries out suddenly, hand slamming it shut. “Just… don’t leave me.” His bottom lip quivers while he waits, observing your every move. Hesitantly, you reach up and cup his face, running your thumbs along his damp cheeks. Instinctively, he grabs onto your hips and closes his eyes blissfully.  

       “I know you will,” you croak out, shaking your head with a bitter smile. “And I’m sorry, but that’s not enough.” You turn and peel away from his grip, slipping out of the house and hiking your bag up on your shoulder. The door gradually closes behind you with a rush of air and you open your phone to contact your friend. 

       It almost slips out of your hands when a loud crash sounds from within your home. A heartbroken sob follows and you try to ignore it while walking away.

Part 2 (Second Chance) 

Part 2 (Never Again)

Luna hunt part 2?

bro i couldnt find it either istg think i lost it somewhere someone put an amber alert find it pls

jk jk but honestly my brain has zero ideas for it like thats why it ended on such a good climax cuz that was literally all i had :( i know i could dig thru all those old wattpad werewolf stories just to find an idea but like why submit myself to my past mistakes like ew

one day, my friend, we shall see if i have an idea for it

Hello 👋 😊 I want to let you know that I love your work. I mean I absolutely love it! Hearts all the way from the moon and back- Like, damn, you’re amazing. I especially liked the Yandere Garou one, because, like- How could one not? But the others are just as great! So thank you for giving us all this content ;)

YOURE AMAZING TOO I PROMISE!!💜💜 only amazing people would so kind to personally write messages like this, so thank you so much☺️ I’m glad you like my writing (especially yandere Garou bc he’s👌👌), and I hope you know your kind words made me really happy!!

May I request an angsty scenario in which Shigaraki has to leave his fatally injured s/o behind during a mission?

The Mushroom Cloud (Shigaraki x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Shigaraki promised to come back for you in that warehouse. Promised to save you, pinned under exploded debris that crushed your legs to nothingness. The ambush wasn’t supposed to happen, but neither was the explosion that occurred after. “Fine, you can come. But if your ass gets blown up, don’t come cryin’ to me.”

A/N: Ouchie, this one’s gonna hurt y’all, just sayin’. As an author, I’m kinda required to want you to cry over this, so feel free to tell me if you do. As always, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2012

        The mission wasn’t supposed to be easy. There were an enormous number of risks that came with it. 

        “YN!”

        You had fought so hard to go with him, arguing every point and saying that you wanted to stay by his side. Impatience had won in the end, and in a fate-sealing way, your wish had been granted. 

        “Fine, you can come. But if you’re ass gets blown up, don’t come cryin’ to me.”

        It was only supposed to be a joke. A little jab at you to show just how much he really wished you hadn’t joined the mission. 

        They were blowing up a warehouse heroes used to hold supplies. First aid kits, medicine, anything else they would have needed in case the League of Villains had struck in a dangerous way. Decidedly, the group wasn’t too fond of the heroes possibly having an upper hand in the event of one of their attacks, so they struck.

        “AHH!” 

        It was an ambush. Not even from heroes bound to a code to preserve all life, but from the country’s army. Soldiers trained to kill had flooded the enormous warehouse, firing at every moving target in their range until they had all fled.

        You were one of the few they hit. 

        “YN!” Shigaraki cried out your name once more, pushing past fallen shelves and barely managing not to trip on the pill bottles they previously held. He followed your moans of pain, sprinting in the general direction of where they originated, along with where he had seen the flash of orange. 

        Fired bullets echoed through the hollow building, bouncing off the metal walls and filling his ears as he searched for you. 

        There. Trapped under a tipped forklift, you whined, banging against the machine with a hopeless desperation Shigaraki had never seen before. It drove a sliver of fear through his heart as he crashed to his knees beside you, barely holding back his own tears at the sight of your crushed legs. 

        The angle at which they were bent was so wrong. Your knees had caved in on themselves, curving in a direct opposite way of how they should. Blood pooled on the floor beneath your thighs, directly where shattered glass from the machinery’s windshield had impaled your flesh. 

        Your hands were shaking, covered in your own vital fluid as you let out strangled cries, pawing so desperately at the too-heavy weight. 

        “YN! YN, look at me!” Shigaraki’s hands were trembling just as much, each finger begging to scratch at his neck in a nervous twitch. It was like he didn’t know what to do with them; first, he hovered them over your legs, then the weight above them, then finally on your face as he directed it to his. 

        “It hurts,” you wailed, banging your head against the concrete floor below. Hot tears trailed down your face, and in the distance, the other villains tried to fend off the army soldiers. 

        There were just too many. 

        Shigaraki was at an age now where he knew when a battle had been lost. Everyone would have to flee and recover before the next attack on the heroes. But shit-- he had to get you out of here first. 

        “Shh,” he hushed, scrambling for more words. He didn’t want to feed you-- or himself-- lies. “It’s- you’re-” he choked on a sudden weight in his throat. Something like a snake coiled around his stomach, tightening and tightening until he couldn’t speak anymore. 

        In situations where Shigaraki lost his composure, you were always the one to take over for him. You were the one in your relationship that kept a level head, spoke with slow words, and always calmed him down. 

        So even though it hurt, fuck it hurt so much, you knew what you had to do. 

        “Tomura.” So much blood had drained from your body that when you lifted a hand, you almost flinched at how contrastingly pale it was compared to the liquid covering it. Nonetheless, you cupped his cheek, wiping away the small tear that had leaked out from under the hand. “You have to go-”

        “NO!”

        “Listen to me-”

        “NO YN,” he shouted, voice just barely audible above the grenade explosions and gunshots. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not happening.”

        “Tomura… you can find me later. You just need to get out of here now.”

        He opened his mouth to protest once more, only to duck his head at the flying debris of a nearby blast. 

        “Just come back for me later! Get the others out now, and I’ll wait for you here.”

        “YN…” A bitter taste of pure bile crawled up his throat at the sight of your mangled legs, but he knew better than to try. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn’t strong enough to lift the machine off you. Your solution was right; leave now, and come back later with someone stronger.

        He hadn’t realized it then, but you already knew there wasn’t a later.

        “Okay. But you better not do anything fucking stupid until I come back.” Anger flared in his stomach at his utter incapability of handling the situation. It disguised the hopelessness he felt, the despair in knowing he couldn’t be your knight in shining armor. 

        Heroes be damned. Shigaraki wanted to be your savior right now. 

        “Okay.” You mustered up the best smile you could, but it faltered with every unbearable twinge of your paralyzed legs. Even if you did make it out of this, somehow, you would never be able to walk again. 

        After pulling away the hand on his face, he pressed a kiss to your lips. It was needy and frantic, a half-ditch effort to display your love for each other for what could be the last time. 

        When Shigaraki pulled away, he saw blind faith in your eyes, but read it entirely wrong. 

        He thought you trusted him to save you. 

        You believed he was strong enough to move on from losing you. 

        “Don’t. Go. Anywhere.” 

        “I’ll try not to.”

        And with that, he rose one last time, gathering up his fallen hand and pressing it back to his face. Red pupils trailed up and down your body and its surroundings, memorizing the exact situation so he could find you later. 

        “League, retreat! Villains, fall back!”

        At the call, his allies stopped their attacks. Flames stopped caressing fireproof soldiers. Knives, swords, and anything else flying at the heavily-guarded soldiers ceased in their movements, and suddenly the building flooded with stomping feet. 

        He was almost surprised that was all it took, until he realized that everyone else was just as desperate to escape this hellhole as he was.

        The League would take this loss. But Shigaraki would never forget what it had cost him. 

        Navigating the large warehouse was easy; though it was almost the size of a miniature airport hangar, it was mostly clear aside from the occasional wooden box and metal shelf stocked with health supplies. Through the fingers splayed across his face, Shigaraki trailed after his fellow villains, following them as they fled through the nearest garage door and into the surrounding forest, darkened with the dead of night. 

        I can go back for her later.

        I can’t save her now.

        Later.

        Later.

        Later.

        “Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered, scratching at his neck when he finally caught up with the others, all stopped at a tree so far from the warehouse that it was just barely visible through the thick brush. 

        Heavy panting combined with the natural hoots and calls of nature as everyone tried to catch their breath. Dabi slumped back against a tree, sliding to the ground and dropping his head back to let out a long groan. Toga followed suit, along with Twice and Spinner and before long, everybody was sitting in some way, dead tired from fighting on their feet for what felt like hours. 

        As the last left standing, Shigaraki knew he was catching curious glances from the others, but he was too anxious to sit. His eyes, puffy from having to leave you behind, shifted over every villain at his disposal. Which one would be strong enough to-

        “Tomura.” Kurogiri, looking ever so restless in the shape of a constantly-fluttering, black cloud, eyed Shigaraki confusedly with his yellow gaze. “Where is YN?” 

        “I had to leave her behind. Now I need someone to go back with me to-”

        He felt it before he heard it. 

        The force of the boom. The wave of pure heat against his back, propelling him forward a good step or two. Then the white noise. 

        Nothing could be heard. All he saw was the trees around him blowing wildly from the blast. If he could, he would have heard your scream. The explosion. 

        Pure horror encompassed his face as his eardrums pounded. 

        No.

        NO GODDAMNIT!

        Without a second thought, Shigaraki turned back toward the building, shouldering his way through bushes and weeds until he found it. Or what was left of it. 

        Of course, the warehouse was unusable now. It had been ravaged by the League of Villains, looted of all its purpose. 

        Of course they would dispose of it.

        A ploom of ash and smoke floated up into the sky, almost drowning out the moon and stars. 

        The smell burned his nose. Charred metal and scorched earth, tainted with a hint of death.

        “No,” he whispered, so meekly he barely noticed he’d even said it aloud. 

        The hand on his face falls to the grass with a dull thump. 

        He couldn’t stand it. His knees wiggled underneath him until they finally gave out, allowing him to pathetically crumple to the floor. His lips quivered, his fingers twitched, his chest ached all at the sight. 

        Nothing. There was nothing there. Ash rained from the sky, floating into Shigaraki’s hair as he slumped forward, slamming his palms against the blackened dirt. All that remained of its existence, of your existence, was a perfect circle of burnt ground. 

        “No.”

        God, if he had looked closer into your eyes, he would have seen it. The despair. The utter hopelessness that came with knowing your fate. That came with knowing you were going to die, and nothing could stop it. 

        You had hid it with a smile, and sealed it with a kiss. 

        “No, YN.”

        He slammed his hands against the ground, screaming and shouting with every pound. 

        “NO! FUCK! NO! I WAS COMING BACK FOR YOU! I WAS GOING TO SAVE YOU!” 

        That’s not what you wanted. What you really wanted was for Shigaraki to not share your fate. You had been trapped by it, unable to move and only to embrace. The last thing you ever desired was to drag the love of your life down with you. 

        His body convulses with each sob as he curls in on himself, pressing his face into the dirt and letting out his strangled howls of grief. 

        “God- fuck, I was going to save you, YN,” he nuzzles his face against the ground, wishing it was the skin of your shoulder he loved to kiss so much. “I promise. I was going to come back for you.”

        Shigaraki hadn’t just lost you. 

        No; it was never that simple.

        Everything he ever had, the future that was in his grasp-- all gone up in a cloud of smoke. 

        The promise ring you wore.

        The smile on your face.

        The child growing in your stomach. 

        He had truly lost everything.

bakugou reacting to his crush having those thirst tiktok (the ones where they just lip sync to a song and loon pretty HAHAHAH)

Bakugou’s Crush with a Thirst Trap TikTok (BNHA Headcanons)

*GIF not mine*

A/N: Ok, so I know you wanted this to be a lil thirsty, but you’re gonna have to bear with me when I say that this is a lot more thirsty than imagined. Honestly, I’ve been in a mood lately where 24/7 I’m like 🥵, so you just gotta take this and run, especially considering how late it is. Nonetheless, hope you like it! (Side note: asdfskdj thanks for 1.2k followers already! Y’all, I swear I’m boutta cry with this🥺)

Word count: 1653

B r u h

It’s like you’re trying to have this boy explode when you make this video.

Maybe you are.😏

Anyways, although Bakugou has a huge spankin’ crush on you, he doesn’t stalk you on your social media accounts. 

Nope, instead he sees your little video in school. 

“Bakugou! Bakugou!” He had just stepped into the classroom and already Kaminari was jabbering at him. 

What a pain in the ass.

The rest of the Bakusquad is hovering around his desk and has their eyes locked on his phone in his grip. “You gotta come see this!” the blond grins. 

“No, I don’t.”

Kaminari rolls his eyes and rises from his seat, shoving his phone into Bakugou’s hand and clicking on a video. “Uh yeah, you do.” 

Albeit reluctantly, he watches the video and-- oh.

Oh fuck.

It’s a TikTok of yours, but so much naughtier than what he’s seen. The first thing his eyes land on are your hips, moving in a tantalizing pattern and twisting them so slowly. Then they trail up your body, barely clothed in only a lace bra that outlines everything you had to offer and more. They move on towards your slim neck and up to your face, where your lips look plump, the bottom trapped between your teeth. That pink tongue of yours peeks out and swipes along the gloss covered lip you chew on so seductively, his gaze following the wet muscle with conviction.

Then his gaze lands on something that has him squirming in his seat-- your bedroom eyes. Heavy-lidded and already looking fucked into a daze, you smirk at the camera and lip sync to the particularly dirty song. Bakugou gulps at the sight. 

His pants are suddenly too tight, an excited part of himself straining against the fabric. 

He doesn’t even have the capacity to be pissed off that you made the video for any pair of eyes to see; right now, he’s rather stuck on how to hide the tent in his jeans that will no doubt rage till the end of class. 

“You’re such a goddamn perv,” Bakugou spits, thrusting the phone back into Kaminari’s hand. God, the only thing that could make this worse for him is if you were to-- oh heeeey, look who just joined the party.

Your entrance is instantly greeted with catcalls and wolf whistles, each one making Bakugou grit his teeth harder and harder together. 

“WOOHOO, YN,” Kaminari pipes up from beside him, “nice video.” 

In traditional YN fashion, Bakugou expects you to lob your backpack right into his smug face, but instead, you shock him by letting out a snicker. 

“Just for you, my friend,” you snigger, flipping him off with both hands. 

What the hell does that mean?

All through class, Bakugou is forced to sit at his desk with his backpack over his lap, but he can’t help letting his gaze draw to you from time to time. He had only been caught a handful of times, but each time you only glanced away just as quick. 

“Just for you, my friend.”

“Just for you.”

“Just for you.”

The words echo in Bakugou’s mind, making his fists curl and curl until his fingernails almost draw blood in his palms. He’s put out of his misery when the bell rings, and he blasts out of class sooner than Aizawa can dismiss him. 

In his dorm, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about you. The way you moved, the way you looked, that glint in your eyes. But was it all for Kaminari?

The thought makes his hands tingle with sparks, but deep down, his stomach churns nastily. Was that perv the guy you were thinking of when you made that?

What kind of a sick power play was it for the creep to show it to him anyways?!

Pacing back and forth, Bakugou digs his hands into his hair and growls. 

“FUCK!”

The only times he had seen you that way were in his room, in his brain, while he sat on his bed and grunted your name deeply, dealing with his bodily desires. 

God, how could you post something like that?

The phone on his nightstand was practically calling his name, begging him to open the app and watch you. The memory just wasn’t enough at this point.

Five, six, seven times he’d watched it now. Eight, nine… oops, there had been a miscount. He must’ve watched your video at least forty times by now, each one riling him up more than the last. 

“Fucking hell,” he hissed for the fifth time, biting into his lip viciously to keep back a groan. Why did you have to do this to him?

Even more, why did you have to make this for Kaminari?

Shit, it must’ve been midnight by now. He couldn’t even calm himself down with a cold shower, exiting the bathrooms just as excited as he’d entered. His hair dripped water that slid down his bare upper body, trailing lower and lower until it soaked into the cotton surrounding the skin below his v-line. Rifling a hand through the blond locks, he fluffed them up to their original form, still damp, but in place.

And when he travels back to his dorm, his crimson gaze slowly gazes over to yours, just a door over. Aside from the towel, his hand only clutches his phone, and once again, your TikTok flashes through his thoughts. 

Ever so hesitantly, his tongue darts over his lips, wetting them swiftly. Seriously, what the hell was that video?! Why would you post something like that?

Aside from Kaminari’s benefit, according to you.

And with those words, his fist bangs against your door, uncaring that the sun was long gone and lights were supposed to be out hours ago. He just needed to know.

You, on the other hand, were pissed. You whip open your door with burning eyes, having just been woken up at exactly 1:07 am. 

“What in the everloving fuck do you need?” It doesn’t cross your mind that it’s the exact person you had been waiting for to come to your room for hours; you’re just enraged at any dumbass who’s woken you up from a rather pleasant dream. 

Not a word is said before a phone is shoved into your face, showing last night’s thirst trap TikTok courtesy of you.

“What is this?” Bakugou interrogates, eyes aglow beyond the screen. 

Oh, you gotta be kidding me. He’s doing this now?!

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you shrug and gesture to the phone. “Well, ya know Bakugou, I think they’re calling it a ‘thirst trap’ nowadays-”

“No, YN,” he interrupts, pushing into your room. Instinctively, you step back, even though you and your body are in agreement that you want him closer. “What the hell is this?”

There’s no doubt that the glint in his eyes is possessive, especially after he slams your door shut with his foot. 

“Bakugou, c’mon, it’s past midnight. I need to go to-”

He chucks his phone to the side with a snarl and snags your hips, forcing you backwards until your knees buckle against your bed. You fall back with a gasp before Bakugou falls after you, his knees immediately assuming a position to straddle your thighs. 

“YN,” he grounds out, hands now pressed on either side of your head, “who did you make that for?” It was the million dollar question, and evidently Bakugou was going for big money. 

Of course, you want this to happen right now. God, you’ve waited months for this guy to finally display that he returned your feelings. But now, slightly peeved and a little playful at his jealousy without a cause, you wanted to have some fun.

“Who do you think, Bakugou?” Eyebrow raised, you let your tongue slide over your lower lip, smirking when he rushes to watch the action. 

“Don’t fuck around, YN.” A rough finger brushes a strand of hair away from your face, but little did you know, it was a distraction technique. Before you can tease him again, both of your wrists are trapped above your head, completely immovable in his iron grip. “Who the fuck was the video for?” 

There was a little uncertainty flickering in Bakugou’s eyes. You realized with shock that part of him was unsure about all of this. Part of him was legitimately concerned you didn’t actually want this. 

Don’t worry, you would qualm all his fears, especially after he slid a knee between your thighs and pressed against a sensitive area that left you a whining mess. “You, Katsuki!”

Instantly, all hesitation flees his body as he grips your wrists tighter, dropping his forehead to yours and capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. 

“Hell yeah it was. Now let me show you what bad girls get for showing off what’s mine.”

Safe to say, Bakugou had to help you walk to class the next day, but it was totally worth it.

You would never admit it to his face, but Kaminari’s plan was genius. Posting a thirst TikTok was the perfect way to force Bakugou into confessing. 

You just wish the dark marks covering your skin weren’t so obvious, especially the one right on the underside of your jaw. No amount of makeup would cover his hickeys, but don’t worry, you would learn that over time.