WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN | G. SATORU X READER

WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN | G. SATORU X READER

WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN | G. SATORU x READER

You’ve been pretending not to see ghosts your whole life in order to blend in perfectly, but you can’t ignore the cute ghost with a bright smile standing in front of your door.

cw. ghost! gojo. fem! reader. minimal fluff. graphic depictions of murder. angst. hurt no comfort. mentions of grief. mentions of being under the influence (alcohol and drugs.) characters with depression. unedited.

notes. wrote a lil something for gojo since it’s been a while since i wrote any jjk fics and i missed it :( also should i open requests again? i miss writing one shots lol

wc. 7k

WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN | G. SATORU X READER

You met him on the first night of winter.

Eager to get home after a long and tiring day at work, you blow hot air on your freezing palms to keep them warm before stuffing it deep in your coat pockets. The walk home was less than fifteen minutes, and you’ve always refused to buy a car because you enjoyed the journey and wanted to familiarize yourself more with the city. You previously lived in the outskirts, but after a phone call from the main department telling you you were promoted and had to transfer in the city, you found yourself packing up on the weekend and renting a cheap apartment.

Located in the middle of everything – convenience stores, medical facilities, popular bars, and a quaint looking flower shop with a cute florist – you thought your apartment was perfect. It was a little shabby, you had to admit. The plumbing didn’t work well and electricity got cut off at random times in the night that resulted in a headache because you couldn’t send that damn email, but the landlord offered an extremely cheap rent that you couldn’t refuse. Plus, it was only a few minutes walk from your office and your neighbors were peaceful.

Well, most of them anyway.

Your neighbors consisted of mostly old couples who were so silent and desolate that you often forgot they existed, your eyes widening whenever you saw an unfamiliar old lady walking and asking you how your day was before realizing, Oh, she’s Mrs. Oliver, I completely forgot. Save for the married couple who were always throwing pots and pans at each other because darn Ronald couldn’t put the toilet seat back down, your place was placid. The landlord was ecstatic when you saw her poster and inquired for a unit, muttering something about not getting enough tenants to keep the place going because of ‘a traumatic issue.’

You’d really rather not ask what it was.

Besides, you’ve never been curious enough of what the world has to offer, simply because you see things – or rather fragments of people – that you’d rather not see. Ever since you started seeing ghosts at a young age of four, people avoided you like the plague, calling you a ‘freak’ and whatnot. Your family soon moved away to a much smaller place in the city because they couldn’t handle seeing their child who often talked to ghosts and sat in corners alone while laughing by herself be criticized by others. They didn’t believe you, of course, often calling it a ‘lonely child’s imagination.’ They sent you to multiple therapists who always assured you that they would listen to whatever problems you were having to cause you to be this way.

Unfortunately for them, there wasn’t anything wrong with you. You weren’t lonely at all. You saw a dozen ghosts every day who were always ecstatic at finding out you could see them, and they were more than willing to interact. As a child, you always thought ghosts were more interesting than actual people because they had an unlimited amount of time to converse with you, and they have had so many experiences to share with you. 

When you grew older, however, you started to see yourself in other’s eyes, realization dawning on you that on social norms, you are, indeed, a freak.

Determined to fit in more and also sick of being faced with countless counselors who strongly believed you had a traumatic experience when your whole life has been nothing but bland and plain, you started ignoring them. It wasn’t easy at first, though. These ghosts have always kept you company while everyone gave you the side eye without knowing who you really were, and you admit you felt lonely in the beginning and a little guilty when they were convinced you couldn’t see them anymore.

You participated more in school activities and even joined a photography club in high school (you had to quit a month later because ghosts kept appearing on your photos, and you had to burn them in order not to freak anyone out) and with each baby step you took, you started to fit in more. The proud look your parents had on their faces when you had finally become ‘normal’ and even got an award for being an exemplary student was enough to keep you going on this journey, and you ignored the lonely spirits so hard that you eventually started seeing less and less of them.

Until now.

Standing in front of your door was a young man, his back awkwardly bent and long, beautiful fingers fiddling awkwardly with one another. He stood barefoot yet wore a comfy looking blue university hoodie and grey sweatpants, and his silver hair seemed shiny and healthy enough to  not consider him a homeless man who was lost and simply wandering. Tipping your head to the side, you rack your brain to remember if you had any neighbours like him. 

His head snaps in your direction. 

He is definitely not your neighbour. You would have remembered such a cute looking guy.

He had unnaturally ethereal futures, prominent cheekbones becoming more pronounced when you meet his eyes, and you blink to gain control over your body when you realize you’ve been staring too long than what would be considered acceptable. You don’t even deny you’ve been checking him out, although you do ignore the almost puppy-like way his eyes lit up at the sight of you, causing your heart to jump a little. Just a little. You also liked how his hair complimented perfectly with his pale skin – he seemed like an exact embodiment of winter. 

You walk forward, spinning your keys at the end of your pointer finger. Smiling at him politely, you paused in your tracks. He’d been blocking your door. “Hello, is there something I can help you with?”

No matter how cute he was, you wouldn’t hesitate to break his nose if he was a criminal.

His pretty hands come up to his face to cover his mouth falling open, and you take a step back when he does a little jump and starts laughing. “You can see me?”

“Uhm, yes,” you answer. “You’re blocking my door, so yeah, I can very much see you.”

As if realizing just now he stood in the way of you and your comfortable bed, who was calling out to you by now, he mutters a quick apology under his breath before stepping aside, a goofy grin remaining on his face and his childish behavior makes you scoff in amusement. He was still watching you even after you’ve unlocked your door, and you sigh at him. “Is there any reason you’re still standing outside my apartment, or should I call the police?”

Instead of looking worried like you expected him to, his smile only gets bigger. “Actually, I live here, well… I used to.”

You stare at him blankly with a slack expression on your face, watching as his features turn sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Looking down on his bare feet, you mumble a curse under your breath when you realize he’s hovering. 

“Not again,” you say to yourself before placing a palm against your forehead. It’s been years since you last saw a ghost, why did you have to see them now out of all times? A new branch is opening up and your superiors have given you the project of making sure the launch goes well, and you didn’t really want a ghost bothering you with your biggest task of all time. You worked hard for this promotion, you didn’t want to take one step forward and two steps back. Glaring at the undeniably attractive ghost who still hovered in your doorway, you decided he wasn’t your problem. 

“Well, goodnight.”

You slam the door on him and trudge towards your bedroom, ignoring his “Wait!” as you unwrap the red scarf around your neck and plop on your bed almost lazily, moaning when your stiff muscles finally relax. The bed was so soft and warm because you’d left the heater on accidentally, and you’re about to be sent to dreamland when a voice beside you speaks up.

“You should take off your makeup before going to bed.”

Opening your eyes and coming face-to-face with the ghost who was resting his chin in both of his hands and laying on your bed, you grab a pillow and throw it at him, and he grins when the object goes past him completely. “Get out of my house, stop bothering me!”

“Technically, darling, this is still my house,” he tells you and starts sitting up before crossing his legs. “The unit was still named after me before you came.”

“Then why wasn’t I informed about that?”

“I was murdered here four years ago,” he deadpans, soft voice flitting into a murmur as he plays with his fingers again, refusing to look at you. “That’s why I never left. Judging from what you said earlier, you can see ghosts, and you know exactly why we’re still here.”

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you stumble over your words. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know and–”

“It’s quite alright,” he shrugs. 

Silence soon joins the two of you; the ghost playing with the ends of your blanket with a far-off look in his face while you study his features, and something tugs at your heart. The reason why ghosts remain here instead of passing on like they were supposed to was because it meant someone was still holding on to them and absolutely refused to let go, or if they had unfinished business that needed to be resolved before they could go in peace. You’ve met ghosts like him who were murdered, and all of them remained with a seething rage and insatiable need for revenge, unable to accept that there wasn’t much they could do in their state. 

As for the one sitting in your ghost, a small smile tugs at the end of his pink lips as he takes in your bedroom, amusement dancing in his eyes at the amount of stuffed animals you had and some framed photos of you as a child. 

“You decorate much better than me, and you’re a lot more organized, too. This place was such a mess back when I was still alive.”

There was an unmissable hint of sadness behind his voice, and you can’t help but ask his name. “I’m Satoru,” he grins, “and for the record, I’ve always been here, just floating through time and space, but not the afterworld yet. For some reason, ever since you arrived, I just appeared back where I left off.”

You nod and take in his words, noticing how he clears his throat and sends a sheepish look your way. “If it’s not too much of a bother, can I ask for your help?”

“What is it?”

He stands up and heads toward your desk, although you supposed it was his since the furniture had already been here before you came. You didn’t think too much about it back then and only felt grateful that you had one less piece of furniture to buy, especially since it was empty. Apparently not, because Satoru keeps digging around through your files with his tongue peeking out his lips, and you vaguely recall that ghosts are able to touch things after feeding off of energy from living beings.

Letting out an ‘aha!’ when his hand finally lands on what he’s looking for, he tenderly places a photo on your outstretched palm with a shy smile. Inside the photo was a beautiful man, probably in his mid twenties, his hair up in a messy bun as he grinned at the camera. Beside him, Satoru’s eyes are closed with his head thrown back in laughter, relishing the feeling of that warm sunny day, and you unconsciously frown at it.

“His name’s Suguru,” he began, his eyes turning glossy at the sight of the polaroid. “He was my best friend before I died.”

Pursing your lips and feeling the tension thicken the room, you ask him, “Why are you telling me this?”

“He’s the reason why I can’t go,” he admits, shoulders dropping while his eyes remain trained on her. “He blames himself for everything and refuses to accept that I’m gone, that’s why I’m still here.”

You remain silent and take a deep breath, your head pounding at the situation. It was a beautiful first night of winter, the perfect weather for you to do your work from home while nestling a cup of hot cocoa in your hands, yet it seems your plans changed and you have to help this ghost out. A part of you wants to reach out and embrace him in a hug, but you know you’ll only end up stumbling on your own feet and clearly, Satoru wants to move on to the next chapter of his journey.

“Can you please tell him I’m okay now?”

When he looks at you like that, shoulders hanging low and an almost shy smile decorating his innocent features, it’s hard to say no.

“I will.”

WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN | G. SATORU X READER

Through the past few weeks since you’ve met Satoru, your life seemed to light up like a Christmas tree without you noticing. He was a funny guy and often pulled pranks on you, like slamming the cabinets open and closed or leaving your window open in the middle of the night, laughing when you shout at him as your teeth chatter and you slam your windows shut. 

“I could have died from the cold, you idiot!”

He keeps laughing as if he didn’t nearly kill you with hypothermia, “Well, if you die, I guess we’ll be together then,” and even has the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows. You scowl at him and pull your jacket closer to your body, asking what he wants from you because he never goes this far to demand for your attention unless he wants something from you.

“What do you want this time?”

“I wanted to finish that series we were watching the other day,” he pouts rather childishly, “You always tell me not to watch it without you.”

On a particular weekend where you felt like your brains were about to explode from exhaustion due to your work piling up, you refused to wake up until noon, and you felt thankful Satoru knew how tired you were and let you have your much needed rest. When you woke up, a bowl of cereal was already waiting for you in your kitchen island, meaning the reason you felt tired even after that long slumber was because he fed off your energy to give you food.

Feeling thankful for the simple, sweet action, you munched on it happily. It wasn’t anything special and the corn flakes had gone too crusty for your liking, but Satoru’s happiness at you appreciating what he prepared was worth it. After breakfast, you dumped the bowl into the sink and planned to wash it later, opting to flick through Netflix for a good show. Satoru had excitedly pointed at one title that he said he’s always wanted to watch, and the two of you became hooked on it soon enough. Lunch and dinner were both forgotten as you two sat beside each other, your leg against his. Although you couldn’t exactly feel him, his presence was warm.

You and Satoru had been so immersed in the show and unexpected turn of events that time flew by and it was already half past three. He was the first to notice and he jumped from his seat, his hands waving worriedly in a comical manner. “I’m so sorry I made you skip your meals! Aren’t you hungry, you should have some pizza delivered or something.”

Glancing at the clock, you hummed when you realized it was indeed late. You weren’t feeling hungry since you were mostly abeyant, and nothing was open to deliver food around this time anyway. “It’s okay,” you shrug, “I’m not really hungry, and that show is addicting. Oh, and don’t watch it without me! I know you always go ahead when I’m not home!”

Satoru huffs and plops down next to you dramatically, rolling his eyes and taunting you. “Then don’t go to work, Little Miss Manager.”

You poke your finger with his forehead but it only passes through and he laughs, “I need money to survive, idiot.”

“Whatever,” he dismisses and points to your bedroom. “You’ve still got to edit your final draft, so you have to wake up early. Go to bed, don’t worry about the dish, I’ll handle it.”

“Liar, you’ll only feed from my energy so you can play video games!”

“Hey, you can’t blame me!” He counters back as he proceeds to your sink and pumps out soap to the sponge, “You were the one who bought me that console!”

“Only because you kept whining to me how much you wanted it,” you retorted before yawning, and his eyes softened at the sight of you. He rarely gets to see you dressed so comfortably in a loose shirt, cardigan and pajama pants since you were such a busy woman whose fashion sense monotonously consisted of pearl white button-up blouses and knee-length pencil skirts. Prudish and preppy, he thought, but it suits you just fine.  

“You should sleep now,” he reminds you with a nod of his head back to your bedroom, and you obey, simply because your eyes were sore and tired from binge watching. You’re in the process of cocooning yourself under the covers when he calls out in a sing-song voice, “Thank you for the console, by the way. I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“Shut up!” You scream, and his rambunctious laugh was the last thing you heard before your body wholeheartedly welcomed sleep. 

You’ve been thinking about that day ever since, the moment replaying over and over again in your head, successfully distracting you from focusing on your work. Even your co-workers have noticed that you’re lusterlacking lately, but how could you focus on anything else when you had a charming yet lonely ghost who was waiting for you at home?

For days on end, you can only think about the cheerful and carefree sound of his laugh as if he had so much happiness in his lithe body that he couldn’t contain. Your heart always got tugged in its heartstrings whenever you had trouble falling asleep and he sat beside you in your bed, singing you lullabies and caressing your cheek. You started to feel him now – the gush of air in your skin meant he was pressing onto you, and the more you got attached to him, the more you got confused with your feelings.

He never told you how he was murdered and you never asked, figuring it would be too sensitive for him, and your hands balled into fists each time you remembered he was dead. Satoru is such a precious person who only has too much love to give, and it was completely unfair and outrageous that his life was taken away from him in a single flash. You’ve done your research at work, and only a few articles came up regarding his death. The case remains a mystery and still unsolved until it was completely closed due to lack of leads or suspects, but the police force highly suspected someone had broken in and committed homicide without theft, since not a single belonging of him got touched. They concluded that the murderer was drunk and lost, because he was a well-loved person in their campus, and they couldn’t find anyone who could possibly harbor abhorrence for the sweet boy.

But most of all, a part of you wants him to stay. He frequently asks you if you’ve talked to Suguru, and you always denied it, making up an excuse about how he was hard to find because he graduated years ago. ‘He’s hard to find,’ you would tell him one day, and ‘He doesn’t have social media,’ the next. Even though he told you he majored in Forensics, you couldn’t find anyone in the city. 

It’s a half lie. You never found Suguru, because you never looked for him in the first place.

You know it’s selfish of you to be this way, because you know Satoru wants to move on. He doesn’t say anything about it and keeps laughing instead, but sometimes when he thinks you’re too immersed in your work to notice him, you look at him. Being around you only reminds him of what he no longer has, and one look at him has you knowing he was someone who loved life. Satoru loved to travel with his friends, and he still had so many dreams left unfulfilled that made him feel empty yet desperate to be in the afterworld.

However, it is hard for you to let him go. 

No matter how much you try to fit in, deep inside, you know you will always be too different from the rest. You still struggled with socializing and didn’t have a single friend yet a hundred acquaintances, and you never realized how lonely you were until he came. His smile lit up the whole room and his laugh was melodious, and you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who cared so much for you. He liked to play games and pull pranks on you quite often, but underneath all that lies a kind heart.

Satoru knows exactly when his jokes go too far and apologizes right away, promising not to do something to upset you again and always doing something entirely new to cheer you up. On nights where you’re feeling absolutely drained or you carried home your anger at your co-workers, you go to sleep without taking off your makeup. When you wake, there’s used wipes in the bin, the hovering boy in your apartment proud of his work. Sometimes you forget to cover yourself in blankets too, plopping on top of the sheets almost lifelessly. It’s in those times that he shows how much he cares for you, and you soon wake up feeling warm surrounded by heavy blankets and freshly cooked breakfast.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were falling for him. It made interacting with him difficult, because you knew you had to let him go, yet you couldn’t.

He watches you carefully and gauges your reaction, waiting to see if you’ll finish the series with him or not. It’s a Wednesday night, or more accurately an early morning on Thursday and the launch happens in less than a week. Logically, it is much better to go back to sleep and refuse, but he is rocking his weight on his heels back and forth, and you realize perhaps he has been lonely since his death too.

“Fine,” you agree, and now he’s bouncing excitedly next to you on your couch as he keeps pressing buttons in your remote.

“You’re the best, you know that?” 

You only hum in response, and Satoru soon becomes lost in the show. Your eyes aren’t focused on the screen – on him rather. Placed on top of your fist lies your cheek as you study his side profile, trying to memorize the slope of his nose and the snow-white hair that keeps falling onto his eyes that makes him flip it to the side every now and then to watch the show. His right leg keeps bouncing up and down, a habit he had when he was anxiously anticipating something, and then stopping before his left leg went bouncing instead, meaning he didn’t like the situation.

Tearing your eyes away from him, you smile sadly when you realize his favorite character had been betrayed. “Did you see that? That freaking woman, he only loved her and she snitched him out like that?!”

Shrugging one shoulder and feeling your eyes become droopy, you reply, “Well, he’s a grave robber, Satoru, he was only nice to her because he liked her. She had every right to mislead him.”

“I don’t understand, but okay,” he relents and leans back, eyes closing before he intertwines his hands behind his neck and murmurs, “I hated the ending.”

“Not everyone gets happy endings,” you add grimly, watching the muscles underneath his hoodie flex at your comment. The two of you remain silent for a few minutes, and plucking up the courage, you breathe in sharply before slowly lowering yourself until your head is on his shoulder. 

You keep yourself still in order not to fall, and your eyes remain fixated on his hand, silently yearning to be able to touch him. If he was alive, would his skin be as warm as his presence? His hand flexes and trails from his lap until it’s beside yours, and you hear him swallow audibly before locking your fingers with his.

A tear falls down your face. You could feel him. 

Satoru hums a familiar tune, and you chuckle happily when you recognize it’s the song he always sings to you to make you sleep, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles.

His other hand tilts your chin upwards until you’re looking directly at his eyes. You hold in your breath, his lips only a centimeter away from yours. If you lean forward, you could kiss him… but you don’t. 

“Why are you crying?”

Because I don’t want you to go.

“Nothing,” you lie and offer a forced smile which he notices, but doesn’t comment about it. “I just feel happy.”

He nods slowly before leaning forward, and he gets so close that you can faintly see his freckles that dot across his cheeks lovingly, and your eyes flutter shut when his lips press against yours. Satoru sighs as if he’s been waiting too long to do that, and he is pushing against you so softly, so tenderly, that it almost fits the same atmosphere your heart creates. He is soft in everything he does, from his innocent features and smile that puts the stars to shame, to how he holds you and caresses you. His hand trails from your neck to pull you closer, and you moan when his tongue peeks out and playfully coaxes yours out to play. Tears are streaming down your face when you kiss him back slowly, tongues moving in sync as they danced harmoniously instead of battling each other for dominance. Caressing your face that fits perfectly in his hand, he brushes away your tears with the pad of his thumbs. 

A moment passes before you two are breathing heavily with your foreheads pressed against each other, and the silence is broken when he speaks, his voice coming out raspy and out of breath. 

“Suguru… has been struggling long before I died.”

“What?”

“My best friend… he got into a rough patch. Had troubles with his parents, went down the wrong path, and met dangerous people. I’d heard rumors he was going around skipping class and talking to people I’ve never seen before, but I chose to ignore it. Suguru would’ve told me everything once he was ready. And I was stupid, you know? I saw it. I saw how he stopped smiling, how he’d lost weight. How his eyes no longer looked happy,” Satoru’s hands trembled, the blue of his eyes hauntingly dark. “One night, I overheard him talking to someone on the phone. I’ve never heard him that angry, and I got worried. I wanted to stop him from whatever he’ll end up doing so I invited him over but… Next thing I know, he came over here, drunk and high, and stabbed me until I bled to death.”

You gasp and shudder as you imagine the scene, Satoru lying on his bed as he waited anxiously for his friend. You see him smiling at Suguru excitedly because he’d actually come, but fear replaces it when his friend succumbs to the madness. The image of Satoru drowning in his own pool of blood made you clench your jaw.

“There had to be evidence left.”

Satoru smiles sadly as if to tell you it doesn’t bother him anymore, but you can’t shake it off. How can a man be so blinded in his own misery that he could take his own best friend’s life? “He was a forensics major; he knew how to cover up his crime.”

A pregnant pause fills the room as you furrow your brows, the sound of the cold wind tapping against your windows as you rack your head to make a decision. Now that you knew the truth, you had to tell the police about it, but how would they believe you if there was no evidence found? And if the case was cleared, and Suguru had finally moved on, that means...

“You can ask me to stay.”

“What?” You breathe out, looking at his eyes with sadness pooling in them. He’s smiling, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You pull away from him completely until he’s at an arm’s length away. He doesn’t look hurt by your action but he sighs, reaching out for you and pausing with his hand mid-air when you raise a palm to stop him.

He must’ve known you’re in love with him. Just as he also knows that once he leaves, you’ll be hurt, and he doesn’t want you to feel that.

You shake your head and stand up harshly. The tears now uncontrollable as you slam your bedroom door to his face. You’re slightly thankful he doesn’t come after you and leaves you alone instead. You needed time. Time to think, time to put his needs over yours - time to forget him. Rummaging through the documents on your desk, you keep looking for it until the polaroid is clutched between your fingers, and you silently place it in your handbag.

Tomorrow, you would set things straight.

WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN | G. SATORU X READER

Suguru Geto was a hard man to find. He’d fled from the spotlight as one of the  best students of his university after Satoru Gojo’s death. The image of his best friend, who was always in high spirits and laughed without a care in the world, covered in his own blood was a sight that scarred him for the rest of her life. 

But there was one more person who hadn’t moved on from that night.

Ieri Shoko, the woman who ran first at the hospital when Satoru’s parents were away for a business trip. She didn’t want to believe it at first. Satoru had always seemed so full of life, so in love with what the world had to offer. He’d been so young – it just couldn’t be. They had to be lying, right?

But when she finally saw her friend’s bloodied corpse on that cold hospital bed, she’d fallen apart.

She went to sleep crying to herself every night, regretting and blaming everything on herself. Her instinct told her it was Suguru who had done this to him. She barged into his dorm room, screaming and flailing, punching the taller man and effectively breaking his nose as she dragged him down by the collar. Suguru was already questioned by the police after Satoru’s murder, but his alibi of being in a bar was factual, and they had proven his innocence after checking surveillance cameras. He was only gone for a few minutes before he appeared on the dance floor all over again, and they believed him when he said he only disappeared to go to the restroom.

Presumably to wash the blood off his hands.

Shoko didn’t believe it. “Tell me you didn’t kill him, tell me!”

Suguru growls, frustrated at her for even accusing him of doing such a horrendous thing, and he feigns his innocence as he pries her hands away from his collar. “I didn’t do it, Ieri, I was at a bar!”

“Bullshit!” She screams, slamming a vase onto the floor and dropping down to the floor as sobs wrecked through her body. “I smelled your perfume the moment I walked in. I know it was you…”

His eyes widened, but he remained silent because she had always been smart and too observant for her own good. He shrugs his collar back into place and goes back to his bedroom, but not before darkly muttering, “I didn’t do it, I didn’t kill him…”

Four years later, and you’re sitting in front of Officer Kento, an intimidating man with empty eyes staring at you hardly, his face devoid of any emotion. He’d been the same officer who worked on Satoru’s case before it was closed. “And why should I believe you? Ghosts don’t exist.”

You snap your head up from your lap to him and scowl, “I just want to help you here, Officer.  You need to re-open this case.”

He abruptly stands up and slams his palm harshly against the desk, his eyes filled with rage as he stares down at you. “You don’t think I haven’t tried before?!”

“Well then, try harder!” You fumed, standing up. “If you don’t resolve this case, he’s going to remain here forever, lost and nowhere to go. Do you really want him to suffer even after his death?”

“How am I supposed to believe everything you say is true?”

Plucking out their polaroid from your bag and shoving it to his chest, you watch as he crumbles piece by piece. He holds the photo tentatively before cradling it to his chest, and what you presumed was a cold-hearted man was actually just a lost person.

“I don’t know why you closed that case, but it isn’t over. He’s still here, and he needs our help.”

You turn away from him to give him peace and wrap your fingers around the doorknob, “Suguru Geto is out there walking freely. You can still make a difference, Sir. It’s not too late.”

WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN | G. SATORU X READER

Happiness was a concept you believed to be fleeting.

One moment, you are giggling with the ghosts who tell you funny stories and whisper mischievously in your ear the correct answers in your pre-school days, and the next moment you are pressing a hand against your car windows, watching as the only people you considered friends are witnessing you leave without a goodbye.

That feeling comes back again and again, from little moments such as eating lunch with your high school friends and making empty promises to keep in touch after graduation, giggling when a cute boy comes by and asks for your number. But like any other moment in your life where you feel happy, that feeling dissipates as fast as it came.

The bell attached to the door chimes to signal a customer, and the cute florist you met on the first day you moved to this city, Choso, looks up from the pot he’s currently watering. Bowing politely, he sends a pleased smile upon the sight of you.

You tuck a stray hair behind your ear and return the smile back, his musky perfume blending in well with the sweet aroma of flowers as he stops in front of you. “Hi, I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, “Our latest branch just opened downtown, so I was a bit busy with that.”

“Oh, you work for that bookshop everyone’s been talking about non-stop?” You nod and laugh at his question, proud of yourself that the new opening had been successful. The state campus was only three bus rides away, and with the extensive amount of books your bookstore offered, along with its affordable prices, everyone’s been talking about it. “I’m proud of you, it was a success,” he commends, rubbing his dirties hands on his apron before opening the door for you. What can I get you?”

Personally, you thought Choso was a bit too rugged to be working in a floral shop. He always seemed to carry himself in such an awkward manner and had an authoritative yet welcoming aura to him, his shy smiles the highlights of your day. “I want to give it to my friend. Today’s their special day.”

“I see,” Choso’s eyes are already scanning the plethora of flowers he has in his shop, his brows pinching together in thought. “Can you tell me a little bit about them? It’d help to make their bouquet more personal.”

A smile makes its way to your face. “They’re… bright, carefree, innocent, and pure. They almost seem like an angel, if you ask me. I was also thinking about something that represents young love, and… new beginnings?”

You have absolutely no idea what you’re saying. The words coming out of your mouth are beyond your control. You’re sure you’re making a fool out of yourself, but Choso nods understandingly, frows burrowed before he snaps his fingers and turns to you. “White roses describe all of those, but if you want, I can whip up more flowers for you.”

He makes a move to get his scissors and starts listing off flowers with the same meanings, but you run up to him and not so accidentally wrap your hands around his to get him to stop. His eyes widen at your close proximity. You clear your throat and take a step backward, fighting the urge to smile when his cheeks are dusted a fine pink. “White roses itself are fine, thank you.”

He gulps and heads towards the back door, coming out later with a bouquet of white roses. You reach for your wallet before his arm wraps around your wris, his smile wobbly and hesitant. “It’s on the house. You can pay me back with a cup of coffee next time.”

Eyebrows rising at his smoothness, you gratefully accept the flowers and cradle it near to your chest. “A cup of coffee it is.”

Choso chuckles shyly and ducks his head, and you leave the shop with a wave of your hand before walking further and further. Your surroundings shift from the high-rise building and busy streets to a hill covered in trees sprawled out everywhere, flowers blooming and withering at every corner. Sitting down on the soil with your legs crossed, you place the bouquet in front of his headstone, his framed polaroid with Suguru standing in front of you. 

It’s been exactly seven days since you last saw Satoru.

After countless sleepless nights of phone calls from Officer Kento, he’d finally cracked the case with your help. Suguru Geto was found. He’d confessed to all his crimes, his handsome face weary yet relieved. It seemed he’d never once forgotten about that night when he betrayed his friend, and just before he was ushered behind bars, he turned to you. You wished you felt anger towards him for what he did, but there was only sadness. Only regret in his eyes. He looked so tired, so hopeless.

“Thank you,” he said softly, “Thank you for finding me.”

A nod was all you could give. Suguru felt so familiar, yet so strange. You’ve heard tons of stories about him from Satoru, all about their happiest moments together. He’d been his closest friend, the one he shared so many dreams with, and the one who knew him the most. Maybe he knew Satoru wouldn’t fight back once his demons consumed him. Maybe when Suguru was holding his friend’s bloodied hand in the night, he knew – Satoru was never mad at him. He only wanted to save his friend. Maybe he knew Satoru wasn’t completely dead yet, not when he lived in everyone’s heart, and most especially yours.

That night when you returned home, the apartment felt colder than ever. Normally, it would mean a ghost lingered. But there was no longer the sound of Satoru’s humming, and the dishes were left half-washed in your sink. And for the first time in your life, you hated your eyes and how it gave you the ability to see the traces he left behind. 

Because you wished you had enough time to say goodbye. You wish you had told him everything, but the thought of being another tether to the living realm weighed down on you. You couldn’t do that to him. He had to go. For Satoru to truly move into the next life, you had to close your heart and forget him. Just as Suguru’s forgiven himself, and just as Shoko’s accepted her friend’s death - you too had to say goodbye. 

Tears clouded your vision.

The white remnants of his soul sparkled in your apartment. For the last time, you watched as the blue of his hoodie finally disappeared, his hands scrubbing your dishes away fading into nothingness. The plate drops and breaks. Satoru stood, his legs vanishing bit by bit as he saw the running water through his hands. He’d wanted to return your apartment to the way it was before he’d met you, but he knew – his time was running out. He didn’t have energy left to turn everything off.

The water floods your apartment. The new series he’d dearly loved still plays on the TV. 

But he was here – hugged by the earth and decorated with flowers, smiling at you from far away even when you could no longer see him. Placing the bouquet of white roses down at his grave, you smiled at the photo they’d taken months before he died. He still looked just as beautiful – all wide smiles, kind eyes, and soft hands.

To you, he was still alive in your heart.

“I’ll see you around, Satoru.”

More Posts from Zukowantshishonourback and Others

i'll find my way (back to you) | todoroki x reader | masterlist

I'll Find My Way (back To You) | Todoroki X Reader | Masterlist

pairing - todoroki shouto x reader

summary -

Your life is going the way you want it to - a restaurant of your own, great friends and a mostly successful escape from the clutches of canon. It’s just the infuriatingly attractive and interested Pro Hero that complicates things.

(Todoroki Shouto x Reader: the one where you realize that dodging the world of Heroes is impossible. Especially when you’ve got Todoroki popping up at every turn.)

disclaimer - I am not Japanese and I am not a chef. This fic is the result of a lot of thinking and research. Isekai/reincarnation also plays an important role in the story so just keep that in mind.

chapter links

one

two

three

four

five

six

cross-posted on ao3 here


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8 months ago

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: implied and/or present elements of dubcon/noncon, yandere, kidnapping, captive reader, quirkless reader, mentioned death of important character, discrimination, drawn comparisons between quirklessness and disabilities, implied bakudeku, drugging, needles, mentions of hypochondriasis, also angst

♡ manga spoilers in a way, but also not really. anyway, read at your own discretion.

♡ gn reader

Bakugou Katsuki

Sharp crimson eyes assess the fresh scrapes and swelling ruining your soft skin. A deep scowl on his face.

“Tch—look at all this…” he grumbles disapprovingly to no one but himself—too upset with you to acknowledge you, yet treating you no different than if you were glass. “These are gonna last weeks.”

You’d tried running away again—tripped and slipped up all on your own, stumbling through hallways and tumbling down stairs in your panic, only to stop short at the locked door—bolted and padlocked beyond all sane reason.

He was disappointed with you, sure. But that’s not the reason for his current anger.

“Sit there while I get bandages,” he orders, getting up from his crouch, pointing a strict finger at you in threat. “Dare move, and it’ll be bed rest for a whole ‘nother week.”

Bakugou’s obsession with your quirkless nature started a couple of months ago…

It was okay at first—he was hardly the first person you’d met who addressed you with patronizing resolve—but he got weird about it quickly.

You worked at another hero agency he was going to be collaborating with for a big upcoming mission. You weren’t a sidekick or anything grand like that, but a simple pencil-pusher—because they need those too, you know? And you liked your job. You got to work along with some of the greatest heroes in the world, see them up close, and help them out with those things they didn’t have time for—paperwork like budget justifications and incidence reports. Yeah, you might have been somewhat of a pushover, but hey, the salary was good, the environment was lively, and even though you don’t have one yourself, you got to see some really amazing quirks in action. It was, out of what you could hope for, your dream job.

The place was in a real buzz when they heard the number one hero would be joining them for a couple of months. You were excited, too—it wasn’t often your smaller agency would undertake big missions—especially not ones that required such big hero names.

DynaMight wasn’t one to share much of anyone’s enthusiasm. He was strict and down to business and otherwise had a major pet peeve for unnecessary rabble loitering around. He’d stopped mid-meeting at the sight of you, seeing as you were obviously no fieldworker, and had gone as far as to demand you tell him your value as if your presence had been some big distracting nuisance.

Luckily, your Pro-Hero coworkers had stepped in on your behalf and told him you were a transcriber keeping track for later reference. It was probably only a slip-up that they’d added the fact that you were quirkless.

You don’t hold it against them, or well… you did a little, but you couldn’t really blame them either. Evoking the explosion hero’s rage must have made them flustered and desperate to play any sympathy card available to them in the spur of the moment.

Of course, it wasn’t their card to play, nor would you ever have played it yourself, but if the humility was worth anything, it successfully managed to calm the top hero down. Actually, he didn’t say anything for the rest of the meeting. And if you hadn’t been so busy taking notes, you would have noticed his lingering stare.

A couple more incidents had occurred in the office after that. Among others, he’d caught an incoming paper airplane your coworker had thrown your way—stepped right in out of nowhere and cremated it with a controlled explosion before it could hit you.

You’d been speechless for a moment—the entire desk area along with you—confused by his strangeness and, at least in your case, even somewhat appalled by his utter lack of consideration—in your office space, no less. Seriously, top hero or not, you can’t just barge in and incinerate stuff?

“That was an important document,” you'd informed—brow quirked—no regard to how offending him could probably make grounds to have you fired. You'd only slightly regretted it after having said it. But geez, you thought—shouldn’t the top hero have some semblance worth of self-control?

“You shouldn’t be playing around,” he'd stated—tone just as sour as the stink of burned paper tainting the air. “Someone might get hurt.”

You’d almost scoffed at him but had held your tongue until he walked away.

Back then, you’d thought it was an offhand insult directed at you and your respected coworker—that the explosion hero had just called you both unprofessional to your faces, like the biggest scumbag to ever walk in through your humble doors. But looking back at it now, you realize he probably might have meant it in its most sincere regard.

His over-protectiveness knows no limit, you’ve learned—calling it patronizing would be a joke in comparison. He treats you as if anything in proximity might make you shatter by association—like a bubble made from the most thinned-out solution of water and soap.

You’d woken up in your well-prepared pillow room shortly after your agency’s collaboration with DynaMight had ended. It didn’t take long for you to piece together his sickness after that.

At first, you’d thought it was a more severe case of benevolent discrimination. After all, most people treat you with some amount of pity after being privy to your being quirkless—treating it no less than a disability of sorts.

But Bakugou’s view of you was increasingly more unsettling than that—suffering from some type of delusion that has him fully convinced you’re utterly inept without him.

In some odd ways, it would have been better if he was just faking—if he was doing it all, treating you as an inferior for some sick sense of deriving his own sadistic pleasure. But no, you think he actually fully and whole-heartedly believes you’re a danger to yourself and that anything, if not monitored in the perfect conditions of the controlled environment he’s established for you, will result in your fatal illness or harm.

He’s a full-sworn hypochondriac concerning you—even as he himself dregs home some of the worst injuries you’ve ever seen as if it were nothing but a splinter in the rough of his worn soles. Meanwhile, he’s scared that if you leave the bed without socks on, it will give you pneumonia.

You were sure you had a couple of control freaks at the agency, but nothing measures up to Bakugou’s mania. How he dresses you is one thing—how he feeds you is another. An assortment of pills first, all vitamins and supplements, a spoon of cod liver oil, then a balanced meal reminding you of those tragic trays you’re served at the hospital—four times a day without fail—breakfast, lunch, dinner, then supper—he also keeps track of all the water he’s decided you need to drink—all things perfectly regulated according to your size and age.

Then there’s the sleep schedule with a set number of eight hours—no more and no less. Exercise is also necessary—workout plans designed and dictated by him. Nothing too severe, though—he’s afraid your quirkless constitution won’t be able to handle anything beyond thirty minutes max.

And then, of course, there’s hygiene.

You sobbed and fought hysterically the first time he’d washed you—in the tub with him after he’d stripped you naked. In fact, you’d made such a fuss he’d had to fetch a sedative.

Even in your drowsed state of complete numb delirium, you’d still heard how he’d fretted over it—the tiny needle hole he’d torn in your arm—as if that was the real violation, even as he’d thoroughly molested the entirety of your body with different cloths and sponges for no shorter than a full hour.

You’d been terrified, of course—horrified by his meticulous routines and odd nature. Yet strangely, despite his rigid rules, he won't ever get violent to enforce them.

You had expected it of him—being known for his brutality—the hero without mercy—the symbol of retribution. You know he's no stranger to leaving the battlefield bloody. But with you, he won't so much as harm a single strand of hair from your head.

He will instead bargain with you, sometimes for hours. Eat what he tells you, and you’ll watch a movie afterward. Go to sleep, and he'll escort you out to see the sun for a few hours in the morning. Let him ensure you wash correctly, and he’ll allow you to dry and dress yourself.  

And in those moments when you leave him no other option, he subdues you through the help of a needle again and never ever by manhandling you—it was as if that weren’t even a viable option. It was obvious he regarded the sedative as the uttermost last resort, always muttering on about chemicals and whatnot under his breath. It seemed he would rather avoid it at all costs—but also, that if it stood between allowing the disturbance of the schedule he felt was needed to keep you healthy and forcibly putting you to sleep, he knew without a doubt which option he considered the lesser evil.

He was certain of it all. And at some point or another… you had even begun sharing his fear of attracting some sort of illness yourself—even something so small as a common cold. But no, it wasn’t the same. Yours was not a fear of the actual disease itself but of what he might do if he caught you sneezing and coughing. You could only imagine the upgraded pill table he’d have in store for you then and what other measures he’d instill due to his excessive ideas of necessity.

And that’s why you’d tried running again even after what must have been a couple of months since the last time. The thought of his inane insanity having affected you so badly you’d started playing along was all too much a painful realization—you’d felt compelled to reject it—run away even when you knew you’d never be able to make the door open if you could even reach it.

You knew it would be in vain, and even though running headfirst into something you know isn’t going to work might be the first signs of madness—you’re still relieved to have found some remaining worth of fight still in you, even if it couldn’t amount to anything.

He comes back as quickly as he’d left, still muttering to himself, cross about the damage you’ve sustained—like you’re one of the collector’s items he keeps up on the mantle in his office—green costume and a big bright smile. You remember the exposés—they’d been rather gruesome, about the hero who’d died in battle not so long ago—a couple of years back now, give or take. He had the number-one spot before DynaMight.

The current top hero retakes his spot at your feet, sighing deeply once he starts dabbing your minor bruises with disinfectant, followed by unnecessary bandages. You’re silent as you watch him work—all so diligently as he does everything, cutting no corners and running zero lights.

His efforts, done with the very epitome of care, all disgust you.

Your lip curls. “I’m not what you think I am…”

His keen glare stops obsessing over your wounds to look up at your face—he’d already tended to the ones he could see, but he’s sure more would blossom and swell in a couple of hours. It’s beyond worrisome—but it’s his fault in any case. He should move you to a place without stairs—it’s way too dangerous for someone as accident-prone as you.

You make eye contact, and his anger fades at the sight of tears welling in your corners—softening as if he’s convinced even a harsh look will have you shatter in his hands.

“I’m quirkless. But ’m not weak.” You’re sure you preached much of the same back at the beginning of your stay, though then you’d hurdled it at him—screamed it from the top of your lungs until you’d lost your voice, unknowing that it’s a statement he’s heard a hundred times over spoken by different lips from yours.

It’s a funny thing almost… how your eyes remind him of his—so soft and yet brimming with determination—a determination that will only get you killed.

He’d put faith in those words before, believed them beyond himself, and it had cost him everything.

But even so, he can’t fault you for believing in them yourself… they’re what makes him love you, after all.

He smiles gently—a most gut-churning sight from the all-scowling man.

“I’m sure you think so.”

He doesn’t relay it with any type of harshness but pity—gross concern and better judgment—overwhelming oodles of it in his garnet eyes, weighing them down with something so awful as compassion and… you don’t exactly know… but it looks like grief.

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ part two ♡ more thoughts on this ♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist


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katsuki with a disabled partner

writing this because i’m having the shittiest flare rn and wanted some comfort fluff so here u go.

Katsuki With A Disabled Partner

this is where i think katsuki (aged up) would truly shine as a partner; he shows his love in actions and in touch, and caring for you is his way of doing that. katsuki can more than handle the strain disability adds to a relationship.

anything you need on your worst days, he will do it: hold you, reassure you, bathe you, brush your hair, make your food, feed you, help you change, carry you across the house, catch you when you fall, schedule appointments, you name it. nothing is too difficult or off limits because he loves you. he insists on caring for you - almost overbearingly so - because it makes him feel less helpless when you’re struggling.

he will drop everything to be by your side. as a pro hero that’s not always possible, but if there is a way, he will find it. he’d never tell you, but the times he can’t be there when you need him is what keeps him up at night.

refuses to let you push through when you’re struggling and is the first person to insist that you put your well-being before anything else. (which you think to be ironic coming from someone who by all metrics is a workaholic.)

and yes, he will talk to anyone who gives you flak if he has to. he has leverage and he’s not afraid to use it (much to your embarrassment at times). refuses to let you feel guilty for what’s outside of your control.

gets angry when you try to do something without his help. “the fuck you think you’re doin? i’m right here. i’m gonna take care of you.” also gets mad if you have a bad flare, get injured, etc. and you don’t tell him immediately.

at the same time, he’ll eventually learn when to back off. he doesn’t want you stripped of your independence. but push yourself too hard after insisting you were fine? you bet he’s gonna give you a little shit for it (lovingly).

i don’t see him being put off by known long term disability early on in a relationship, esp. if a deaf!katsuki hc is involved.

sudden disability due to health changes or trauma: it’s almost like it doesn’t phase him because he just handles it. he’s dealt with a fair amount of shit himself before you and with you by his side. it’s not easy, but it’s familiar, so he knows what to do.

lots of comfort sex - for both of you. yeah, he has his rough, mean side (which you love), but he’s more than capable of making love. when you’re struggling but still able, he fucks you in a way that makes you believe everything will be okay. he looks you in the eyes and loves you so tenderly that only you might believe he’s the same man everyone else knows. he doesn’t just do it for you. it’s a comfort to him, too. he needs the world to fall away for just a moment so he can love you. it doesn’t fix life’s problems or keep him from worrying about you, but it’s healing and eases the pain.

bonus: comfort kink for the same reasons. whether it’s light impact play to ground you when you’re dissociated, encouraging you to slip into that subby headspace that makes you feel safe, or edging you until you can’t think to keep your mind occupied, he’s okay with it. i feel like he’d also be surprisingly soft for moments like this.

Katsuki With A Disabled Partner

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There's a slow song playing when you get home. You drop your bag, toe out of your shoes as you make your way to the living room to find that Dabi's cleared the furniture away, giving the room more space.

On his phone, is a slow song blaring through the speakers, just loud enough that you can talk normally.

'Dabi, what's this?' You ask, and he turns. He's wearing simple clothes, but his grin is bright.

'This is for you, babe. Come here.'

He takes your hand, pulling you close. 'May I have this dance?'

Giggling, you nod and let him lead, the sides of your heads pressed together. It's unexpected, but that's what makes it even better.

-dabihawksluva

This is so sweet 🥹🥹 thank you. I woke up not feeling great but seeing this just made my day @dabihawksluva

I’ve never actually danced with anyone before but for dabi I’d do it any day 💙

9 months ago

"YOU'RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY I LOST YOU" (katsuki b.) !

"YOU'RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY I LOST YOU" (katsuki B.) !
"YOU'RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY I LOST YOU" (katsuki B.) !
"YOU'RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY I LOST YOU" (katsuki B.) !

features: katsuki bakugo

contents: fantasy au. angst. hurt/comfort/more hurt. mutual pining. barabrian!katsuki. fem!reader. childhood friends to lovers to strangers to lovers again. kidnapping. grief. crying. implied panic attack. major character death. no beta we die like men. 3.9k

notes: i've been yearning desperately to make bakugo say stoick's famous line from httyd2 (my second favorite movie)... if there's interest i'm considering continuing this into the canon verse with it being these two 'reincarnated'.

tagging: @saexy (for enabling and encouraging me in killing off characters) & @meristryker (for enabling me in the gc like a real one)

"YOU'RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY I LOST YOU" (katsuki B.) !
"YOU'RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY I LOST YOU" (katsuki B.) !

never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die. watching the loving smiles of his parents, the gentle caress of his father's hand to soothe his mother's unbridled anger: it made his stomach churn.

yet, at the tender age of seven, while on a trip to a nearby village to discuss the war shifting on the horizon, he finds himself absolutely smitten by their chieftain's daughter. wide e/c eyes peeking out from behind her mother's leg, hands clutching onto the hem of the long skirt.

katsuki finds himself enamoured in that instance, seeing sweet you, looking at the boy with such curious eyes. he stomps over to you: temper even fiery in his youth. his hand grabs onto yours as he hauls you out from behind the safety of your mother.

under the dim candlelight of the meeting room, flickering flames cast dancing rays across your skin. his chubby little face is scrunched into a scowl, tugging you out of the room and into the courtyard with a tenderness that betrayed his expression.

"i'm katsuki and you better not forget it!" his pitchy voice calls, still dragging you behind him. he looks over his shoulder, soft red eyes narrowed in what was an attempt to be intimidating.

but when he sees the relaxing of your eyelids, falling slightly in contentment, with a warm smile that rivals any feeling of victory: the mask of indifference slips in a blink of an eye. red dusts over the slops of his face, baby-fat painted the same carnelian as his eyes. his small hand grips tighter onto yours, as if he never would let you go.

your chubby little face stretches as your smile widens into a toothy grin, eyes crinkling at the corners. "got it, katsuki, i'm y/n!" he swears your voice is just like the lullaby his mother would hum while rocking him to sleep, bringing a rush of warmth through his chest.

that day, katsuki bakugou falls terribly in love with y/n l/n.

the two of you are deemed inseparable, hands always connecting like opposing poles of a magnet. pinkies intertwined stronger than any woven cloth. it's as pure and innocent as it can be.

if one were to see y/n, then it was irrevocably certain that katsuki was a few steps away. it sends rumors spiralling through the lands that there will be a union between the bakugo barbaricum and l/n dynasty. you're only eight when there's an attempt made for your hand.

the thought of two families as powerful as you and katsuki's joining was a fearful thing to many. it spelled doom for many weaker civilizations, those who had dug their own graves with their actions.

your family, blessed be you to have been born to loving parents in a world such as this, easily rejects the many proposals. the l/n dynasty is in a state of power where they are not forced to fend for their village: allowing you this freedom.

running through the streets of his stronghold, chasing each other for the sake of some game that was the farthest thing from either of your minds. katsuki feels whole when you are at his side. the world doesn't seem so ugly, he doesn't feel so angry, everything sings the hymns of the heavens.

he can't pull his ruby eyes off of your form by the age of fifteen. the katsuki you had known, baby-faced with a slight stutter, has began to fill out into a man. his shoulders broaden and begin to carry thick cords of muscle. the chubbiness of his cheeks begins to give rise to sharper angles. his whiny voice is pushed aside by a more gravelly tone. he shoots up like a sprout, hunching over slightly in faces that used to fit him so easily.

but he isn't the only one who is growing into his frame. your shoulders soften at the corners, collarbones visible with every slight movement. your baby fat begins to settle and collect on your hips, rounding them. those toothy grins of yours become framed by pretty lips, always looking soft as a pillow. clothes that used to drape over your like a sheet now feel tighter in certain places, stretching over curves that popped up overnight.

the two of you don't know what to do with yourselves, stolen looks when the other isn't looking. you still hook pinkies, but the touch sends flares of heat running up the back of your neck. it's like you were just meeting each other for the first time all over again.

katsuki feels like a damn sap with the way his heart thunders under his skin: threatening to burst out. he's too taken to notice the heat that was rising to your face whenever he was around, the way your hands nervously would grip onto the swaying fabric of your skirt. too blind to see that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you.

hurried words, lingering touches, sneaking glances, the two of you had every hint of love right in front of your faces. yet, there's a hesitance that lingers in the back of young minds: afraid that falling in love would end up with no one catching them.

unsurprisingly, katsuki is the one who jumps first. it's a quiet night, the moon is high in the sky. his breath puffs out in front of him like smoke, winter beginning to show herself once more.

you looked too beautiful under the soft azure glow that the celestial sky casts upon you, he simply couldn't bear another moment without you known how much his very soul ached for you.

on the eve of his sixteenth birthday he whispers the words like a prayer, voice softened and gentle for once in his life. "y/n... you plague my every waking thought, i cannot let my heart beat any longer without it being yours."

e/c eyes widen as your head snaps to him, lips parting in shock. katsuki beats you to it, rough palms (once baby-soft) cupping your cheek with a tenderness he was unaware he possessed.

the stars illuminate the sunkissed slopes of his cheekbones, showing the fine lashes that fan out over his eyes. katsuki was ethereal, in every sense of the word, it catches your breath in a hitch. your mind stumbles through everything you could say right now, desperately trying to find the perfect response.

but when the pads of his thumbs drag over the apples of your cheeks, leaving a buzz in the wake of his touch, all rational thought leaves as you allow words to flow like a stream. "i have loved you longer than i have known you, katsuki." your voice is hushed, only filling the small space between the two of you: like a secret that only he and you would ever know.

it sends a trill up your spine when his eyes visibly soften, his face had been growing more and more sharp by the day but only when he was with you did the curve of his cheeks soften. he turns back into a boy around you, as you turn back into a girl when held so gently between his hands.

katsuki surges forwards, nose clumsily knocking against yours, teeth colliding with your own. he's inexperienced, never having kissed a girl, much less even though of kissing anyone but you. you both are a mess, giggling softly through messy pecks smearing over each other's faces. it feels like you're both those giddy kids once more, chasing the other through the cobbled streets of your village. he makes your heart sing.

it was even harder to be apart from him now, hands fully clasped together as you walk through the streets of either of your hometowns. yet, no one is surprised. neither of your parents nor his even bat an eye when you announce the courtship at a family dinner.

love is as natural as breathing for you and katsuki. inherently you have always known exactly what the other needs. he knows just how much you like the wildflowers that grow en-route between your homes. you know just how much he likes when you rise on your tiptoes and press a kiss against the corner of his lips.

it's young and dumb, a rush of big emotions and smiles that stretch your cheeks so far they ache. once you both are eighteen, katsuki turns the courtship into a betrothal. an elegant gold ring, with a garnet slotted right in the center, it sits pretty on your ring finger. his band is thicker, small e/c gemstones scattered along the surface. when in battle he loops it through a chain around his neck: pressing a kiss to the ring before charging forwards.

the world has known y/n l/n and katsuki bakugo have been in love for nearly twelve years, official for three, and betrothed for one. the bakugo barbaricum and the l/n dynasty have began making their plans to unify upon the wedding. it sparks a wave of unease in the badlands.

all it takes is an emissary sent from the dark forest for your world to crumble into shambles. a demon who seems to be the land's scourge reincarnated, hand that turn all to ash, pillages your beloved village. he comes in tow with a mimic and a fire mage. destruction rains as you are brought to the center as their singular demand is you.

your eyes lock with the demon's red eyes, a color that had made you feel so safe until now. the hair on the nape of your neck stands pin-straight as his hand extended towards you: palm up.

a flurry of emotions rush through you like a burst dam, memories of katsuki at the forefront. you want to be selfish, to damn him and his band of criminals to hell, to fight back despite the gravity of the situation. but he is bringing terror upon the people you swore to protect with your life.

so, you step forwards, soft hand sliding into his own. never had a rough palm felt like daggers against your skin, never had you so violently despised the way carmine shines in the light of blue flames.

to save your people, your family, the home you have known your entire life: you go. swept away in black mist. the last thing you see of that place is the bakugo horde rushing towards the gates, your eyes lock with katsuki's before the void claims you.

katsuki lets out a guttural scream as her charges head first into the miasma, falling onto the ground as the last wisp flows just through his fingers. his fist slams against the ground, hands gasping at the dirt you had just been on. he allows himself to cry in front of someone other than you, a wail echoing through the ruins of your village.

that day, you disappear off the face of the realm. no matter how many search parties are sent into the dark forests in the badlands, they all return empty-handed (if they return at all). katsuki keep his ring around his neck, so it beats against his bare chest with every movement: like a reminder of how it felt when his heart actually beat .

scars wind around his arms, around his biceps, over his forearms, across his shoulders. his face is hardened, permanent frown on the lips you used to kiss so tenderly. he's angrier than ever, fuse short as his attention span.

he is a shell of the man he had been, going through the motions of survival but never truly being alive.

this persists for a grueling two years. for seven-hundred and thirty days. for seventeen-thousand five-hundred twenty hours. he is separated from the only person that has ever felt like home, the woman he has loved longer than he knew how to read.

he masks it behind his ego, boisterous laugh to hide the ringing in is ears that hadn't been able to stop. he's more violent the field, less forgiving when in training with kirishima. the explosions that thunder from his palms produce a blackened smoke that lingers and settles in his lungs like a fog.

yearning hits him late at night when he lays alone in bed, a bed that you had once shared with him. silent tears pour, running down the sides of katsuki's face as he stares blankly up at the ceiling. his breath feels short as his chest heaves to get air in. the man's mind is clouded with the look on your face as those bastards took you. he can still remember every single little twitch of your expression when you finally saw him. he remembers the way your breath hitched. he remembers the tears that began to pool at the corners of your eyes.

but, most of all, he remembers not seeing you: for what feels like the first time in his life.

katsuki cannot recall when he finally fell asleep, or if he ever even truly did. his dreams are plagued with you anyways, so the line between memory and dream is thin as a tightrope.

he has a dream that he makes it in time to save you and wakes up alone. that one sticks with him for months, hanging over him like a shadow. if he was only a minute sooner, a stride faster, reacted quicker. maybe you would be in his arms right now instead of gods know where.

relief comes in a rumor that circles in a tavern that a woman with h/c hair and e/c eyes was spotted wondering through the dark forest. katsuki doesn't hesitate, he makes no effort to send out a scout party. he rides at dawn, horse hooves beating against the grass in a frenzied gallop as he makes his way into the badlands.

none of the rouges or thieves hope to stand a chance with him, the smart ones don't even try. he vanquishes the less fortunate with a single swing of his cutlass. the man doesn't stop to rest, only to water his horse and allow it to graze while he catches a brief nap.

his horse comes to a stop right outside the dark forests, whinnying in rejection to enter. katsuki doesn't blame the poor thing, this was the kind of place people went with no intention to come back from. he dismounts, not tying his horse off: it would return with a whistle.

the forest is eerie, yawning opening that is reminiscent of a gaping mouth. but he didn't fear. because at this point, he'd rather not come back if it meant he wasn't coming back with you.

footfalls crunching against leaves and sticks echo through the dim lit treeline. the canopy is so thick that it completely obscures the bright sunlight katsuki has just been under: the perfect place for criminals to hide. the trees creak and groan, as if the land itself was breathing and living.

only when he hears the snap of a twig does he stop, his head snaps around, a flash of h/c darting just out of the corner of his visions. the man's heart stops as he stumbles to pursue, not minding the whipping of low handing branches against his face. not when he could see you darting through the underbrush.

he finally sees you in the full when you run into a path dead-ended by brambles. it's really you. y/n, his y/n.

but you look over your shoulder with such a forlorn look it makes his heart ache in his chest. you don't believe that it's really him. "toga, this isn't funny, it's cruel to keep making me see him." your voice is rougher than he remembered, as if your throat had been worn. it makes his fists clench at his sides.

the mimic had been wearing his face, just to torment you?

just the thought of it sends a rage burning deep in his chest. he has no way of knowing what you have been through. katsuki couldn't protect you: like he always feared he would fail to do.

his steps toward you are hesitant, ruby red eyes softening the second he sees your face. his heart is pounding out of his ribs, it makes him wonder if you can hear it.

a rough hand reaches up to roughly tug the chain that held his engagement band around his neck, the links snapping and clattering to the ground. he doesn't even look at it. with a gentleness, he holds out the ring to you.

your eyes dart back between the metal and him, hands tentatively reaching for it. the thundering race of your heartbeat is all you can hear. your hands, once soft, now rough as his bush against his own as you roll the ring between your fingers.

katsuki's heart breaks when he feels the callouses on your fingertips. he lowers slowly to his knees in front of you, tears fighting their way to prick at the corners of his eyes. he looks up at you like you are the light in the world, a goddess before him. in a way, you are, because he had prayed to every deity to hold you again, even if it was only once more.

"you're as beautiful as the day i lost you." his words come out in a rasp. thick emotion coursing through his chest; nearly choking him.

he watched your eyes widen, tears pooling as you too crash onto the ground. your arms wrap tight around his neck, face pressed side-by-side with his own. strong arms encircle your waist in an instant, pressing you closer with an urgency.

"katsuki... oh gods, katsuki..." you don't even know what to say, just repeating his name like a desperate prayer. your cheeks are wet and your chest aches but you don't care, because he's finally here.

lips clash desperately, just as messy as the kiss the two of you first shared five years ago. it's a mess of teeth and tongue as your fingers tangle into ash-blonde hair, his hands finding the back of your head and your hip. he sucks the breath out of you, as if wanting to absorb you into his being.

and you'd let him if he asked.

carmine eyes search for e/c, his hands cupping your cheeks as he pulls back to study your face. it's like you never left. your eyes are tired, there's some grime on your cheeks, a soft scar above your eyebrow that you've had since you were thirteen.

the softest smile spreads on his face, forehead pressing against yours as his lashes flutter shut. katsuki lets out a deep sigh, one he had been holding for nearly two years now.

warmth blooms in your chest as everything finally settles back into place like puzzle pieces. your hearts beat in sync, you draw breath when he exhales, everything is right in the world once more.

but your heart skips a beat as your eyes open to see that cursed white hair with horns peeking out from below it. tomura shigaraki. a wicked smirk on his lips as he's leaned back against a tree, simply watching.

your hands grip tighter onto the back of the shawl draping over katsuki's shoulders, breathing turning shaky and ragged.

no. no. no. they couldn't take this from you. not again. not after how hard you fought to escape the league just at the fleeting chance of being able to see the man you love. this had to be some cruel joke, right? a trick of the light, maybe...

even you aren't naive enough to believe that, your eyes close as you lean against katsuki, head burying into the crook of his neck. your fiddle with his hands to slip the ring back onto it's rightful place on his third finger. a part of you had already resigned to being ripped away again.

after two years with the demon, you learned firsthand what shigaraki was capable of. and you were not going to allow katsuki to find it out as well.

your legs shook as you stood, a weak smile given at your lover's confused look. "i'll always love you, 'suki, you know that." his eyes widen as his head nods, brows furrowing.

"then let me keep you safe."

carnelian irises widen in realization as his head turns to look back, growl ripping from his chest at the sight of the scourge of the realm's protege. his hands immediately reach for the hilt of his sword, explosions popping in his palms.

but you're already beginning to approach. katsuki seizes you in one arm, hauling you away like the day you first met. he runs through the forest with you: knowing that shigaraki would not allow the both of you to leave.

he bounds over winding tree roots, holding you steady and tight against his chest. the impending sense of doom begins to crawl up the back of his neck, but he needs you to be safe.

with you in his arm, he stumbles out of the forest, shrill whistle leaving his lips as the sound of hooves grows closer. with ease he sets you up on the saddle, but he does not join. you realize immediately what is about to happen. "katsuki-"

"no. it's my turn to keep you safe, y/n. i've always loved you, and i always will. in every life i will find you, and in every life, i will protect you." his words bring tears to your eyes as you desperately stake your head, sobs bubbling past your lips.

shigaraki creeps out of the forest and he delivers a harsh smack to the horse's haunches, sending it galloping away. within a second later a hand is reaching through katsuki's chest, mocking laugh against his ear.

"how heroic. i'll make sure you die slow, barbarian."

never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die.

that was until he lay on the edge of the forest floor, lifeblood leaking from the gaping hole in the center of the chest. but he wasn't anguished: because he died for you, the only person who he would ever love.

"YOU'RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY I LOST YOU" (katsuki B.) !

okkotsuus 24


Tags

vested interest | masterlist

image

pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Reader

summary: You’d just thought Shouto was absent minded, accidentally leaving behind a jacket or a sweater or his vest. You didn’t realize this was a thing. (In which Todoroki Shouto—despite his quirk—has zero chill, and uses his clothes to ward off other men.)

length: 19,500 words | 5 chapters

tags: romance, pro hero au, misunderstandings, shouto is a little shit

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, slightly possessive behavior

chapter links:

one: coat and run

two: in-vest-ed

three: for hood measure

four: well-suited

five: all buttoned up

fix extras:

What happens when Reader finally tries to return Shouto’s jacket?

What was chapter 4 like from Shouto’s POV?

cross posted on ao3: here


Tags
Jealousy, Jealousy || B. Katsuki

jealousy, jealousy || b. katsuki

Jealousy, Jealousy || B. Katsuki

bakugo katsuki has a girlfriend, one that he didn’t tell you about. you’re resigned to giving him up, to live with your feelings alone. insert an enthusiastic senior who’s willing to help you find out if katsuki truly likes his girlfriend, or if he harbors any hidden feelings for you.

(aka, you’re an idiot for pining after another idiot, causing misunderstandings after misunderstandings, all because you decided to bring a fake-dating trope to life.)

Jealousy, Jealousy || B. Katsuki

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten

Jealousy, Jealousy || B. Katsuki

completed by lytters / calyxso © do not plagiarise my works, repost them or use them in anyway without my permission

Jealousy, Jealousy || B. Katsuki

Tags

can you please do some angst anything, like a one shot or just something, my heart hurts

Had been a while since I did a request, sorry I only just saw this bebe. Here ya go.

Bakugo has always had the prettiest eyes. Crimson orbs that some would find intimidating but to you, it looks like rubies that you can spend hours staring in awe at. They're fairly expressive too. What his mouth can't ever say, those damn eyes express.

That was why you can tell it's real.

He's happy. Really happy.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him as he talks animatedly on the phone. A small smirk tugging the corners of his plump lips. "Shut up, idiot." You hear him say, shaking his head. "I gotta go, Y/n is waiting- So stop bothering me already." But you know from his tone and the way he's smiling to himself that he doesn't mean it.

And then, you hear him say, "Yeah, yeah. I love you, too." His voice bleeding of sincerity and adoration that you had to look away. You scoff to yourself, a wry laugh escaping you as you train your eyes on the logo on the steering wheel. Doing, trying anything, to keep your mind off the ache growing in your chest.

You hear the car door open and you plaster a smile up at him. He mutters his quick apology as he straps in. "Thought you'll never hang up. Simp." You say teasingly, covering up for any trace of the hurt you're feeling inside. A chuckle escapes you when he playfully punches your arm. "I'm no fuckin' simp, shithead!" Bakugo says, laughing a little. "Step on it, we're going to be late."

You rub the spot on your arm that he hit. Not because it hurts but to ground yourself. That this is all you'll ever be. The buddy. The best friend he banters and playfights with, the sidekick he always choses to work with.

Nothing more, nothing less.

It didn’t help that your assignment tonight is surveillance. You don't think you could bear all the hours ahead with him. Knowing Bakugo, he'd probably start talking about her. After all, you had just gotten back from a mission with Todoroki. And usually, once you got back home, Bakugo would be telling you all about the things that happened to him. It had been that way for years. Something you looked forward to. Or at least, you used to.

You already know the things he'd tell you tonight, and you already know he's about to completely break your heart.

Bakugo notes the activity of the suspect you two had been watching from the building across the rooftop you two had set up on, while you softly mutter the details on the communication device in your hand, feeding the information to your police partners. When the person under investigation head to bed, you two relaxed a little.

"Hey, so you must’ve heard." Bakugo starts as you stretch your neck. Oh no, here we go. You blinked and put on the smile you've been rehearsing since you have taken the plane ride back home. "Yeah, it’s on every tabloid." The forced laugh you let out even had you impressed. "You're back together. Again. Woohoo. Big surprise." You say monotonously.

"Yeah. Fuckin' paparazzi won't leave us alone." Bakugo rolls his eyes. He stretches too, mimicking you as you roll your shoulders and crack your knuckles. "It just happened." He then says. You swallow hard, not really wanting to hear more.

"You know that charity shit we were supposed to attend together?" He asks and you nod numbly. Of course, you do. You were so excited that Bakugo asked you to accompany him to this charity ball as his date. You both even planned to match  outfits like how stupid kids would want to do with their best friends.

"Yeah, well, she came that night and she happened to be seated at our table."  He says it like he still couldnt believe his luck, stupid beautiful smile adorning his face. He then went on to say how she had moved to your vacant seat so he can have someone to talk to in the event filled with A-list celebrities and government officials he had no fucking interest in mingling with. "We got to talking and next thing I knew, we were the only ones left in the fucking ball." He laughs.

Normally, you adore this ugly laugh of his. And normally, you would have scold him for being loud and potentially giving away your position. If only your heart wasnt breaking into billions of tiny pieces in your chest.

"Wow," you roll your eyes and looked away, the fake smile you had on your face faltering. "Glad to hear you had way more fun without me." You say, laying the sarcasm thick. You hadnt meant to but you tremble, a soft sob almost escapes you.

Bakugo frowns and shrugged his jacket off, thinking you were just cold. He puts it over your shoulders and when you just stared at him, he takes your arms and puts it through the sleeves. Bakugo zips it up to the collar and puts the hood over your head, even pulling your hair free before smoothening it around your face. It’s his fucking actions like this that had you hoping. Had you thinking that maybe, just maybe, there's something there.

You look up him, thinking, why couldn’t it be me? Could it have been me if I were there with you that night?

"Y/n." Bakugo frowns as he says your name so uncharacteristically soft. You then notice the worry that paints his features as he slowly reaches to wipe your cheek. Bakugo's frown deepens when new ones replace the tear he had just wiped away.

A wave of panic rises in your chest as you replace his hands with your own, harshly wiping your tear steaked face.

"Shit, sorry." You force a laugh. "The fucking wind is too strong up here." You reasoned but you are not fooling him. "I'm gonna go in first, you take first watch." You got up, making a beeline for the door but a strong grip around your wrist stops you.

"Y/N, look at me." Bakugo says, his voice so low you barely heard it. He calls your name again but you still didn’t turn. Your face crumples and more tears flood your eyes.

Taking a deep staggering breath, you wiped your cheeks with your free hand and cleared your throat. "Bakugo, please. I'm tired." You tried to tug free again but he kept his vice grip on you.

He pulls you and made you face him. You can see Bakugo was breathing a little heavily too. "Y/n, is there something we should talk about?" He tries to meet your gaze but you kept your eyes on the ground. Bakugo asks again but you clench your jaw and shook your head stubbornly. "No, there is nothing to talk about."

Bakugo was getting frustrated you could tell. Still, he takes a deep breath and held your face with his other hand, asking, "Then what's wrong? Damn it, tell me." 

Everything, You think to yourself.

You're the one whose been there for him all this time. And it took one night for him to fall in love with her all over again.

You want to be happy for him because you can tell that he's truly happy. But you just can’t.

You love him but he loves someone else.

You know he loves you, but never the way you love him.

Everything is fucking wrong but there's nothing you can do about it so instead you say stubbornly, "Nothing."

To your surprise though, he grabs your shoulders and shook you. "What the hell is wrong with you, then? Why won't you fucking tell me??"

"Nothing. Is. Wrong."  You articulate, shrugging from his hold to take your seat back by the ledge. But he grabs hold of you again, this time catching your hand.

"Stop it." Bakugo grits his teeth. "I know something is wrong. I know you." He says and his eyes widened when you let out a bitter laugh.

"No, you don't." you deride, shaking your head.

"Bullshit! Of course, I fucking do!!" He yells at you. "We've been friends for years!!"

You glower back at him, feeling the stupid tears stinging at your eyes again and your breathing get shallow. "Some friend you are then!" You yell back. Bakugo grimaces, looking at you like he's never been so offended before in his life. He was actually fucking hurt.

"You don't know shit about me, Katsuki." You jab a finger at his chest. "You don't even fucking care about me enough to actually get to know me! You only keep me around because I standby you through everything!" Bakugo staggers a step back when you pushed him with all your might, tears endlessly streaming down your face and neck.

"God, if only you'd have really taken a close look, gave me even a shard of your fucking attention," you whimper, your hands balling into fists against his shirt. "Then you would have known," you feel like youre losing your strength, like your knees could give out underneath you, "that I stayed by your side all these years because, b-because,"

Bakugo swallows hard, his hands circling your wrists. Deep down he sorta knew but he was just denying it to himself. Because he knows he could never reciprocate your feelings.

Please don't fucking say it..

But you do,

"I am in love with you."

A gush of relief floods you, finally having said it after all this years. You closed your eyes so you wouldn't see his reaction. His silence and his hold slipping off of you were enough.

"Y/n, I-"

Bakugo didn't know what to say. His hand is twitching because he wanted to reach out and hold you but he doubts that that is a good idea right now.

"I'm sorry-" he starts, warily trying to reach for your hand again but you shake your head and slipped your hands in the pockets of your jacket. His jacket.

"Me too." You cut him off. "I.. can't be friends with you anymore." Your voice breaks as you admit the sad truth. Bakugo's eyes widened. You can't mean that, right? But the lifelessness of your voice made Bakugo's heart clench. You take a deep breath and bore your gaze to the ground.

You just ruined your friendship. But you guess that's good. You'll finally have a reason to not be by his side all the time anymore and endure the pain of this unrequited love you've had for him for years.

"Y/n-" he tries again. It’s the only thing he could do. Try. Because you're slipping away and he doesn't want you gone. But you scorn away when he tries to reach for you again.

"I cant," you whimper, "I'm sorry."

The days that followed consisted of you taking in other assignments that lead you to work with someone else. Whenever you'd bump into Bakugo, you'd keep your eyes trained ahead while Bakugo couldn't help but stare and long to talk to you again. But he lets you be, thinking, well, hoping that you just needed time. That one day you two will be alright again. Because fucking hell, it's only been days and he misses you so damn much already.

He realizes how present you were in his life. Realizes how badly he took you for granted. Realizes that every morning he wakes up, it’s your texts he first checks. Realizes that with even the smallest inconvenience, it's you he wanted to call and vent out to. Realizes you're that one person he can say anything to, things he couldn't tell even his own damn girlfriend.

Because you were his person. That one person who always listened without judgement and takes him as he is.

Because you got his back no matter what.

Because you.. loved him.

Fuck.

Bakugo throws his arm over his eyes as he feels that pang of longing and regret. He finds himself jumping out of bed. It was supposedly his day off but he comes to the office running.

But when he reaches your desk, you were nowhere in sight.

And on his desk, was your resignation letter.


Tags
9 months ago

Fair Trade

College AU Bully!Touya Todoroki x F!Reader smut

Synopsis: Touya Todoroki enjoys full benefits of his status as both top student and the son of the most successful businessman in the country. He is also a major bully and no one wants to get in his way. When you decide to give him a piece of your mind for bullying your friend, Touya figures how to use that against you

Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI! Dubcon, AU, bullying, blackmailing, mention of violence, cursing, humiliation, smut, oral sex (f. receiving), penetration, creampie, mention of m. receiving oral sex

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Word count: 6k

A.N.: I had fun writing this, I think it was fun to write Bully!Touya for a change instead of my original Bully☺️@dabislittlemouse here it is!

Fair Trade

“Tamaki!” 

Your dark-haired friend cringes as he hears your voice in the crowded hall. He glances over his shoulder timidly, knowing that the following conversation might cause trouble, either to him or someone else. 

You walk up to him with a confused look on your face, “What was that about? Why did you tell the professor you hadn’t finished your essay?” You wonder.

Tamaki avoids your gaze nervously, chagrined that he hasn’t figured any reasons to use when you’d ask that very question. 

“..I-I just didn’t think.. I-I mean I..” He stutters, which makes you tilt your head, “I, uh.. forgot it at home.”

You quirk a brow at him, picking up his lie, “I saw you having your laptop with you this morning. You said earlier that you’d send it.”

Your remark causes a hue of pink color on his cheeks, “R-right.. I uh.. I didn’t.. send it,” he mumbles.

“Why?” You ask dumbfounded, getting more confused since his vague responses only evoked more questions. 

Tamaki scratches his cheek with his index finger. He clearly ponders, but to his disappointment he finds himself cornered. So accepting his defeat, he sighs heavily, “.. My laptop is broken.”

“What? How?” You ask, baffled as he bought it just about a week ago. Suddenly Nejire appears through the crowd and drapes her arm around Tamaki’s shoulder. 

“Hey guys! What’s up?” She asks, but as she sees your serious look studying Tamaki, she’s quick to pick up the atmosphere.

“What’s going on?” 

“Tamaki’s laptop is broken,” you comment while crossing your arms, doubtful of the reason why.

“Seriously? It was brand new!” She points out and looks at him, rubbing his shoulder as if already consoling him.

“Y-yeah..” He mutters and keeps his gaze down.

“How did that happen?” She asks curiously, far more gently than you.

“It was.. an accident.. I think,” he confesses with a barely audible voice.

Your brows furrow at the odd explanation, but then the realization hits you and your eyes widen.

“He did not—”

Tamaki glances elsewhere, finding it useless to sputter more insincerities when you clearly connected the dots. As his reaction implies that your presumption is unfortunately correct, curse words flood your mind faster than your mouth is capable of repeating them.

“Oh that motherfucker—” 

“Please calm down Y/N, I’ll handle it myself—” Tamaki pleads with an apologetic look on his face.

“What? You mean—” Nejire asks, but you already turn on your heels without another word, leaving behind your troubled friends. Hands balled into fists, rage bubbles in your stomach as you’re keen on searching for the reason for your fury. 

Touya Todoroki. 

Top student and a guy known by everyone. He’s smart, witty and remarkably handsome with his pierced ears, tattoos and white, messy hair. His father, Enji Todoroki owns a business empire and is one of the most successful men in the country. He also donates huge amounts of funds to the university every year.

Prestigious and wealthy family that has a ridiculous amount of power and influence, everyone knows who Todorokis are and no one, including the deans and the professors, wants to be on their bad side. Needless to say, Touya enjoys the full benefits of his status as people fawn him. 

Girls swarm around him, hoping to get his undivided attention, which according to rumors, always lasts just one night. Guys are mostly envious of him, but knowing his authority, no one wants to risk their future just to stand up to him.

That is to say Touya is a jerk and a major bully, who has already adopted the nature of a shark that feeds on those who dare to challenge him. It’s a habit that stems from his ruthless father who’s also known for eliminating any and all competition. There’s no doubt that such a trait suits someone who’s supposed to take over his father’s business some day. 

Recently Touya has become a thorn in your flesh as for some unknown reason he has targeted Tamaki. The latter assures that he can handle it, but having his laptop broken means that he wasn’t exactly successful. 

You clench your jaw in anger. Todorokis are a rich family, whose wealth isn’t affected by even a hundred broken laptops as the price of them is just as significant as a water drop in an ocean. But for Tamaki, it was an expensive investment. 

You want to make sure he doesn’t have to endure such treatment ever again. So as you enter the lounge area, you glance around and notice the group that Touya always hangs out with. The 5 of them sit comfortably on couches whereas Touya stands a little further away from them, leaning against a staircase as he currently flirts with a pair of girls. Wearing that trademark lazy grin, his sleeves are rolled up, exposing tattoos that cover his veiny arms. 

Your lips purse in anger, “Hey Todoroki!”

Touya lifts an eyebrow as if questioning who dares to bother him. But when he notices your enraged form advancing, his lips twist into a knowing smirk. Storming your way up to him, your demeanor is enough to scare the girls away. 

“What the hell is your problem?!” You shout, uncaring how it attracts the interest of others around you, including his friends.

But Touya tilts his head dismissively, “Do I know you?” 

“You can’t just break other people’s stuff like that!”

“Sweetheart, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies condescendingly, “You must’ve confused me with someone else.”

You grit your teeth, well aware that he knows exactly what you’re referring to, “Tamaki’s laptop.”

He gazes elsewhere and hums pensively, “Ooh, that! Yeah, quite an unfortunate incident, I’m afraid. The guy’s just so clumsy he ended up tripping on his own feet,” he scoffs and his friends make no effort to hide their amused reactions. 

You inhale a deep breath, calming your burning nerves before slowly repeating the words, “Leave him alone.”

But Touya only chuckles breathlessly in response, finding it utterly amusing that someone actually tries to tell him what to do. His entitled behavior provokes you, which makes you raise your voice a little.

“I mean it! Never approach him again!” 

“Or what?” He asks. You hear the dare in his tone and had it been anyone else it would’ve worked. But you step closer into his personal space and stare into the deep turquoise of his eyes. 

“Stay away from him,” you copy his tone, showing that you’re not intimidated by him or what he’s capable of. 

Touya studies the defiance in your eyes and finds no fake bravery. It almost impresses him and he can’t help a smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips. 

Backing off, you take your eyes off of him and flash his friends a glare. Turning to walk away, you feel his eyes on your back, observing your every step. 

Searching for Tamaki, you find him from the library, where he’s surrounded by his group of friends. Mirio has his hand on his shoulder encouragingly while Nejire sits on the desk and swings her legs jovially, both of them wearing smiles to cheer him up. There’s also Kirishima, Mina and Tsuyu, freshmen who you don’t know that well.

You smile. It’s really nice to see that despite Tamaki getting his confidence crushed regularly by Touya, he also has a lot of friends around to boost it. In fact, you befriended Tamaki not only for his kind nature, but also because you thought he deserves someone to have his back.

Approaching the group who immediately after noticing you, insist on hearing about your encounter with Touya. It’s nearly funny how confronting a guy like him is considered brave, though in a way, it is since he might focus his attention on you for meddling in his business. But you don’t care. 

Instead, you encourage Tamaki with words and a smile, promising to lend him your laptop until he gets a new one. He protests with a shake of his head, assuring that you’ve already done so much for him.

But you insist as you’re gonna stay in the library after classes anyway, which means you can use the computers there. 

***

Colors of the evening sun shine through the windows, which also acts as a cue for you to stop overworking yourself and return back to the dorm. That and also the fact that the library is completely empty. 

Stretching your arms and rolling your shoulders, you get up and take some books back into their respective places. Hungry and tired, it’s quite challenging to find the right shelves and rows. That’s also why you don’t notice any other presence, even when one shuffles behind you with his hands in his pockets, observing your oblivious figure reaching for the top shelf.

“You know, I’ve been thinking—”

“Shit—!” You yelp and cringe in surprise, the book in your hand dropping on the floor at the sudden voice. Turning around, you’re greeted with Touya’s turquoise eyes and his trademark grin. 

Displeasure immediately spreads on your features, “Ugh, what do you want?” You ask, feeling too fatigued to deal with his capricious nature.

“I am willing to leave your little friend alone,” he says unexpectedly.

You blink in confusion, but then cross your arms doubtfully, knowing that someone like him would never offer such a favor out of the pureness of his heart. 

“I assume you’re gonna want something in return?” 

He grins, “Correct.”

Clicking your tongue and rolling your eyes, you’re not surprised, “And what that might be?” You ask, uninterested. Your question though changes the look in his eyes into something you can’t quite describe. But whatever it is, it’s ominous. 

“Fuck me.”

“... What?”

“Fuck me and I’ll make sure that no one, myself included, harms him.”

You blink and shake your head in disbelief, “Y-you— Are you out of your mind?”

“Consider it a fair trade, sweetheart,” he says. 

You stare up at him speechlessly, uncertain whether you’re even hearing him right. Your wordless state makes his smirk widen and he takes a step closer to you, forcing you to back against the bookshelf. At that moment your heart begins to beat faster as you realize you’re alone with him.

“You’re the only one who actually has the guts to defy me,” he remarks and places his hand on the shelf, making you notice the difference in your sizes as he looms over you, hooded eyes staring down at you hungrily. 

“It turns me the fuck on,” he adds with a husky voice.

You can’t deny the fearful rise and fall of your chest, but knowing he’s purposely trying to intimidate you, you revive your defiance quite quickly. Brows furrowed, you stare up at him confidently. 

“I’ll never let you put your filthy hands on me.”

“You will. Because we both know you could never let me hurt someone so precious to you. Not when you have a chance to prevent it.“ 

Your heart clenches at his words that unfortunately are true. Touya knows that and he shows you another one of his smirks that this time is undeniably horny.

“All you gotta do is to give me some pussy.”

You grit your teeth, but manage to contain your composure. He then slowly loosens his grip on the shelf.

“You have till tomorrow evening. After that the deal’s off the table,” he begins to walk away with your gaze locked on his back. 

“I suggest choosing wisely. I’m having some violent thoughts about that sad little friend of yours and it depends on you whether I execute them or not,” he points out and walks away.

The angry look on your face turns troubled as you take a moment to comprehend what just happened. Uneasiness settles in your guts, despite having prepared to accept the consequences of your earlier actions. This isn’t what you expected though so rubbing your upper arm anxiously, you decide to calm down and return back to the dorms. 

At first you don’t slip out from your daily routines, instead act like nothing happened. Preparing yourself dinner and talking with your roommate Tatami as if your stomach isn’t twisting with a mixture of revulsion and conflicted emotions. 

Later that night you find yourself unable to sleep and end up staring at the ceiling for hours. Arms folded behind your head, the conversation with Touya is still fresh in your mind as his words keep repeating themselves compulsively. 

“Fuck me and I’ll make sure that no one, myself included, harms him.”

You sigh. No matter how many scenarios you can think of, none of them leads to a result where Tamaki gets to stay safe and you don’t have to fuck his bully. 

Turning on your side, your eyes are heavy from trouble and tiredness. You know somewhere deep within your heart that the decision is easy. There’s no doubt that you’ll push aside your personal feelings to make someone else’s life better. Moreover, you were the one who complicated things by confronting a bully, therefore whatever follows should be yours to handle. 

***

The next day you mostly keep to yourself, only flashing a polite smile and a carefree request not to worry to those who wonder if something’s bothering you. In reality, it’s an understatement, but no one suspects how underneath your serene composure, pounds a nervous heart. 

At some point you stop procrastinating and accept that you have to seek out Touya. While you walk towards the lounge, there’s a small wish in the back of your mind that you’re not gonna find him and that this all would just go away. 

But much to your misfortune, you find the group in question from the cafe. They have taken a whole table despite there being smaller ones to match their numbers. Either slouching or sprawled on their seats, others have to be mindful of their space.

You purse your lips to the side in irritation, figuring that such individuals wouldn’t take others into consideration. You then cross your arms as your gaze attaches to the white-haired bully. When Touya notices you, you show him a sarcastic smile that lingers on your face only for a few seconds. He grins knowingly and takes his time to get up and shuffle up to you.

“What a nice surprise,” he scoffs, as if oblivious to why you’re there. 

You tap your foot on the floor unhappily, “I’ve decided to agree to your proposition,” you say unceremoniously, which makes the delinquent in front of you smirk mischievously.

“Lucky me.”

“Shut up. Just tell me when and where.”

“Tonight, 10.pm at the dorm.”

“Fine—” 

“Not so fast—” he comments as you’re about to leave.

“What?“

“Of course we need to seal the deal.”

You glare at him, “You want a hand shake or something?” 

“I was thinking a peck on the cheek would be nice,” he shrugs innocently, even though his plea is anything but. 

You look at him with disgust, “Not a chance.”

“Don't make me remind you what's at stake.”

You grit your teeth. His condescending stare provokes you severely and you can tell he is just fucking with you. 

Swallowing your pride, you step closer to him. As he’s much taller than you, you push yourself up on your toes and press a hasty kiss on his cheek, but then bring your lips close to his ear. 

“I hate you,” you growl bitterly with a voice that seethes with contempt. 

“Save something for foreplay, sweetheart,” he replies with a husky voice. 

“Fuck you,” you hiss before walking away. Touya smiles crookedly and turns to his flabbergasted friends who, unbeknownst to him, observed the conversation with curiosity.

“How the fuck did that happen?” Shigaraki asks, obviously baffled to see you kiss Touya even though yesterday you yelled at him. 

But their white-haired friend just spreads his arms, “Guess I’m just that irresistible.”

***

It’s 7pm and against your hard-working habits, you’ve spent the entire evening in bed, unable to stop yourself from imagining the obscene scenarios that’ll most likely happen between you and Touya. Tatami prepares herself for some fraternity house party that’s hosted by his boyfriend, Shindou. She babbles excitedly while putting on her makeup and trying on different dresses, but all you can hear is the dooming ticking of the clock. 

“Y/N? Y/N??”

“Huh?”

“You sure you’re okay?” She tilts her head, blonde eyebrows furrowed in worry, “You’ve been acting weird all day.”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Probably just overworked myself,” you smile sheepishly. 

She narrows her eyes playfully, “You sure you don’t wanna come to the party? A little booze and a lap of a sexy guy might release some tension,” she jokes before gathering her most important belongings into her purse. 

“Nah, I think I’ll just sleep this off. But thanks.”

“Oh, okay. Have a good night then!” She smiles. 

Your lips twist into a demi smile as she waves you off and shuts the door behind her. The nervous atmosphere hanging above now descends when you’re alone. Inhaling deeply, you get up and turn to check the time that blinks in eerie red numbers and dots.

It feels like you could vomit what little contents your stomach has and it makes you rub your face in frustration. Getting up, you drag yourself into the shower, even though cleansing yourself is practically pointless since the dirty feeling inside you can’t be washed off. 

After a steaming hot shower, you blowdry your hair and choose an outfit. Since there’s no way you wanna entertain him with pretty clothes, you choose a plain set of lingerie, regular pants, a top and a hoodie. 

Checking yourself from a mirror that’s attached to the door, you stare at yourself disappointedly. Having never imagined finding yourself in such a situation, it’s difficult to comprehend that you’re actually gonna go through with this. Sighing heavily, you shove the intrusive thoughts away and leave to search for the right hall of residence. 

Insecurity in your knees, you walk across the well-lit yard with your arms wrapped around yourself. As the right building comes into sight, it stands almost threateningly in front of you as you pass the entrance. 

Mind blurry, you’re unable to distract yourself from the pounding of your heart as you wander in the corridors. Gladly there’s not many people to witness your apprehensive manner since most students seem to be attending parties or having gone home to visit their parents. 

As you come across the right door, you’re about to reach your hand to knock, but hesitate and end up staring at it. It’s your pride that tells you that it’s not too late to walk away, but your protective heart won’t allow you to become indecisive. 

Suddenly the door opens and you tense up, meeting the turquoise eyes of none other than Touya. He grins at your nervous appearance and leans against the doorframe, “How long have you been standing there?”

Heat rises on your cheeks, “Just arrived,” you reply hastily, though both of you know that’s a blatant lie. 

Choosing not to point that out, he pushes the door open for you, “Come on in,” he gestures.

You hold onto the prideful attitude and enter carefreely as though your heart isn’t currently bruising your chest. 

The room is surprisingly neat. Instead of discarded clothes or cans of beer and energy drinks, the beds are made and every item seems to be placed exactly where it belongs. There’s an expensive looking PC desk, which you assume belongs to his gamer roommate and friend, Shigaraki. 

As you hear the door closing, you turn around to face Touya, who walks just a little too close for your comfort. It’s almost funny, considering what you’re about to do with him. 

He tilts his head a little, a lazy smile spread on his features that most people considered attractive, “So.. You look pretty.”

You don’t know whether it’s sarcasm or if he’s being truthful, but either way it ticks you off. He knows that any compliment is degrading when it comes from him. 

“Why don’t we just get this over with?” You suggest sternly.

“Sure,” he shrugs, but shuffles by the PC desk and plops on the chair. You look at him questioningly as he lifts his foot to rest on the corner of his bed and intertwines his fingers.

“Strip,” he commands. 

As if the situation itself isn’t humiliating enough, he wants to make a show out of your undressing, which you’re beyond reluctant to perform. Glaring at him, there’s a moment where your gazes are connected in an intense contest. Unfortunately, out of the two of you, not only is your position disadvantaged, but his deep turquoise eyes are imperative regardless of the carefree grin that’s always plastered on his face. 

With no other choice, you huff in irritation and decide to execute his wish, though as unceremoniously as possible. Proceeding to unzip your hoodie, your motions are almost angry as you discard it. Then grabbing the hem of your top, you pull it over your head and drop it on the floor before unzipping your pants. Lowering them all the way down to your ankles, you get out of them and use your foot to push them aside.

Having only your underwear and bra, doubt gnaws at your judgment and your eyes meet Touya’s in the momentary hesitation. He predicts your feelings and indecision, but pays them no mind.

“Go on,” he compels rather calmly, but the undertone of his voice is unconditional. 

Inhaling a deep breath to control yourself, you keep your eyes on him when unhooking your bra, never losing contact when the garment slides off of your shoulders on the floor. 

As your breasts are now on full display for him, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips and he can’t help but whistle lowly at your body.

“Come here.”

You obey rather quickly, mostly because it also seems like a permission to still keep your panties on. Standing between his legs, he readjusts his position.

“Straddle me.”

Showing no reaction, you do as you’re told. Grabbing the headrest of the chair, you carefully place yourself in his lap. Tensing up as his hands touch the bare skin of your sides and slide down on the small of your back. 

“Damn, baby. All of this yet you never show what you got.” 

“Cause I don’t want any assholes like you drooling over my body,” you retorted quickly. 

“Well, that doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?” He asks with a wide smirk and you roll your eyes, admitting that he has a point. 

He then focuses his attention on your naked breasts, squeezing both of them before sweeping his tongue over the peaked nipple of the other. It sends a tremble through your body as the air feels cold on the now moist skin. Sucking on the sensitive nub, he fondles the other, softly squeezing and using his thumb to brush the nipple. 

His touch feels foreign, yet assertive and experienced. Hands surprisingly gentle as he fondles your breasts and caresses your breasts. Littering open-mouthed kisses over your chest, you inhale shakily as his growing bulge presses in between your legs. Your reaction doesn’t miss his perceptive nature as he nibbles and bites the sensitive skin of your neck, hot breath fanning against it and lips twisted into a smug smirk. 

Moving his hands on your ass, he grabs a handful and forces you to grind yourself against him. Your face scrunches, brows furrowing as your clothed clit bumps against his hardened member that throbs beneath the fabric of his pants. A guttural groan reverberates in his throat as he humps you steadily, hands firmly holding your ass. 

Suddenly he gets up with you in his arms and carries you to bed, placing you down on the mattress as he sets himself between your legs. Bringing his hands on your hips where the waistband of your panties are, his hooded eyes are locked on the thin fabric, the only obstacle between him and what he desires. Teasing himself, he slowly digs his fingers under the waistband and pulls the panties down your legs. It’s clear to you now why he allowed you to keep them at first— He wanted to make another show out of you exposing the most intimate part of yourself to him. 

He tosses your panties carelessly on the floor and shifts his wicked gaze at you, “Spread ‘em.”

His audacity is indescribable as well as the spite you feel towards him, however, holding your emotions strictly behind your teeth, you part your legs for him. 

The sight of your pussy causes a lecherous grin to spread on his features, “Fuck, that’s a pretty cunt,” he mumbles, swiftly pulling his t-shirt over his head before leaning down to kiss your mound.

“What you think you’re doing..?” You ask, almost nervously. 

“I may be a prick, but I’d never leave my girl without an orgasm.”

“I am not your girl,” you hiss. 

As if provoked, Touya stops what he’s doing and hovers over you, placing his hands on both sides of your head, “You are now. And after this you always will be.”

The truth in his words tastes bitter and no matter how resentful it makes you, there’s nothing you can come up with that would count as a smart retort. He grins at your speechlessness and plants a chaste kiss on your neck, whereas you avert your gaze away momentarily as the gesture seems like a rotten cherry on top of his superiority. 

He then continues to kiss your body, down your lower belly and as he reaches your mound, he plants another few kisses on it. You shut your eyes and bite back a moan as he licks a long stripe between your folds, tongue sweeping subtly against your clit. Leaning your head back, pleasure consumes your body as his soft, wet tongue swirls around your sensitive clit. You keep your mouth strictly shut, but can’t stop your toes from curling though you’re reluctant to admit that he clearly knows what he’s doing. Your body slowly melts into his skillful touch as he flicks your clit with his tongue, pleasure blurring your better judgment as you spread your legs wider and allow him proper access.

He adds more pressure, which makes your back arch and hands grip the sheets as such pleasure has never surged through your body before. He is a natural tease, slowing down his movements whenever he notices you’re nearing your bliss. Your body twists in protest as a small whimper of frustration manages to pass your lips, but it doesn’t convince him to continue like you wish. 

He keeps teasing you until your pussy is sensitive enough to thrust a finger inside in order to suddenly increase your pleasure. Your mouth falls agape and at this point you don’t even try to suppress your moans or sudden jolts of your body. He adds a second finger and curls them, aiming for that sweet spot inside you. 

Your face distorts in pure pleasure, body writhing in such desperation for release that you grasp his white hair and shamelessly grind yourself against his tongue. Your greediness makes Touya smirk against your folds while he keeps fucking you with his fingers. 

Another loud moan and a trash of your legs, you reach your orgasm that washes over you in powerful waves, your walls pulsing steadily around his fingers as you cum. Bliss numbs your limbs and you collapse on the bed, gasping for air as haze surrounds your mind. For that idle moment you can’t remember the questionable circumstances, nor the contempt you feel towards Touya. All you know is the aftermath of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

Touya pulls his fingers out of you gently and sits on his knees, wiping your slick from his chin with the back of his hand. Savoring the taste of you on his lips, he’s high on the power he gained from making you cum. Also admiring the state you’re in, you look absolutely irresistible with your juices leaking down the curve of your ass while you pant with your eyes closed. 

Smirk widening, his cock throbs at the sight as he starts to unbuckle his belt and lower his pants and boxers. Hovering over you, his shadow engulfs your figure and forces you to slowly open your eyes to meet the depraved look on his. 

“Ain’t you cute all fucked out,” his mockery makes the last remnants of your bliss fade away and replace with annoyance that makes you roll your eyes. 

“Must you talk?” You ask. 

“Not at all, babe. I’d rather listen to you moan for me anyway,” he replies wittily. Heat burns your cheeks as you’re both well aware that you did your best to not grant him that joy. But not only did you fail, he also forces you to swallow your pride as you can’t outsmart his comment. 

Tilting his head victoriously, he then focuses on wrapping a hand around his aching cock, pressing the head of it against your sloppy entrance. Your walls allow him to sink inside, albeit with a little resistance.

“There we go..” He grunts at the tightness of your pussy. Your brows furrow and you lean your head back, shutting your eyes as he buries himself deeper inside you, feeling the vague reluctance of your body. 

His lips twisting into a smug smirk, he leans close to your ear, “Don’t fight me.”

Your response is nothing but a small whimper as he rocks his hips, gently fucking you. Your fingers curl in the sheets as you keep panting, but the subtle tone of distress soon changes into quiet moans of pleasure. Picking up the pace, he thrusts into you steadily and observes how your features relax into bliss. Grabbing one of your wrists, he pins it above your head.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, hot breath mingling with yours.

“S-shut u-up,” you cry out, hopelessly clutching onto what little is left of your pride. But as he swirls his hips for more friction, you arch your back in pleasure, hands seeking his tattooed forearms to dig your nails into as your moans become high-pitched.

Touya chuckles as your response is exactly what he was looking for. Confident that he can easily shatter your resolution that’s already like a thin glass, he grabs your chin firmly and crashes his lips on yours. Fucking you harder, he devours your cute squeals and forces his tongue into your mouth to rub yours in a heated kiss. Saliva dribbles down the side of your mouth, pleasure losing your logical mind into oblivion. 

Against any reason and all of your principles, you wrap your arms around him and scratch his back as he knows exactly how to make you squirm in bliss. His cock abuses your pussy so perfectly that you can’t seem to remember that there’s no one you despise as much as Touya Todoroki.

He smirks into the kiss for managing to tame your fury and reduce you to a moaning mess. Adjusting his position, he pulls away from you and leans his weight on his forearms. Slamming his hips against yours, he watches the pleasure written on your features as your breasts bounce back and forth. Your hooded eyes hazy as your sweet inner lips wrap around his slick-coated cock so well, so obediently. 

A malicious smirk spreads on his face, canines visible as he pants in pleasure. For a moment he almost resembles the devil himself, pleased from having manufactured a treacherous deal to snatch your poor soul for his pleasure. 

Suddenly he grabs your waist and manhandles you so that your legs rest on his shoulders. Leaning over you, he places his hands flat on the mattress, on both sides of your head. Slamming his hips against yours so violently that you can’t anticipate the scream that emerges. He begins to fuck you so mercilessly that tears form on the corners of your eyes as his cock hits that sweet spot inside you perfectly, forcing a loud moan after another. Needless to say, your toes curl as your orgasm nears you, making your body tremble in utter bliss. 

Touya pants in pleasure as he feels your walls spasming, a debauched smile twisting his lips as a tiny drop of sweat trails down the side of his temple, “That’s it baby— Nngh— Cum on my cock,” he groans.

Your orgasm hits you stronger than ever as you come undone on his cock, walls clenching around him tightly, pulsating as waves of pleasure make your back arch. Shivers running across the surface of your skin, your body shudders like something primal inside you is freed. 

“Good fucking girl,” Touya grunts while fucking you through your high. Getting more rough, merciless, he rams his cock inside your overstimulated pussy to elicit tormented screams and sinful pleasure. Thrusts beginning to be sloppy and erratic, ruthless as he nears his own end evidently.

In too deep, you can’t manage to comprehend the consequences and allow him to slam his cock deep in you, releasing his seeds in white ropes of hot cum that taints your spent walls.

“Fuck yeah,” He groans, tongue lolling out in pleasure. Taking his time to empty himself inside you, your eyes are closed as you gulp for air while a thin sheen of sweat glimmers on your skin. 

Whimpering as he finally pulls out, he collapses on his back next to you. Folding his other arm behind his head, silence lingers in the aftermath as you both lie in his bed, catching your breaths. 

When the haze of euphoria disappears into the air, you adopt back the rather stern demeanor, “You done?“ You ask almost rudely while still getting up as if his reply doesn’t matter.

“Pretty much,“ Touya grins lazily as he turns to observe you picking up your clothes. Moving on his side, he leans his head on the palm of his hand and watches you hastily dress yourself.

“You’re a good fuck,“ he points out crudely. 

“Shut up.“

“Seriously. So when are we gonna do this again?“

You chuckle sarcastically, “And why the hell would I do that?“ You ask, glancing at him while putting on your hoodie.

Touya sits on the bed with his back against the wall, a blanket covering his lower half, “Oh, I don’t know. Probably if you want this Tamaki guy to remain unharmed,” he says, leaning his elbow on his knee and resting his cheek in the palm of his hand. 

You whip your head around, “What?“ 

“Babe, you should always check terms and conditions properly before agreeing,” he says with a tone that’s almost reprimanding. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” 

“That I never said this is a one time thing,” he points out annoyingly calmly. You stare at him in disbelief, but at the same time not surprised that he’d pull off something like this. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,“ you say mostly to yourself. 

He shows a mischievous grin, “You know, if you suck my dick, I’ll buy him a new laptop.“ 

Your body tenses in absolute fury, hands balling into fists as his suggestion is so shamelessly casual. His lazy grin ridicules you enough to want to let all the rage burst out in all its violence, however, you narrowly manage to channel it into words. 

“I fucking hate you!“ You scream so loud that it almost hurts before storming out and slamming the door behind.

Touya chuckles by himself, unbothered by your furious nature. In fact, he’s more than content with the outcome of his actions as the real reason he bullied Tamaki was only to catch your attention. 


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✦ 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒐, uk, 20+, 2002 mdni ✦

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