Yandere Bokuto The One That Will Look At You With Puppy Eyes Everytime You Need To Go Out To Get Something

Ignorance is Bliss (Bakugou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Confessing to you has turned into quite the hassle for Bakugou, as you seem to be totally oblivious to every single one of his ideas. From notes to jewelry, you don’t notice a single thing he tries to anonymously give you. Surely you weren’t that ignorant, were you?

A/N: I desire sleep. I just wanna sleep…. Anyways, here’s another Bakugou oneshot, because it’s just so easy to get ideas for him. This time, poor explody boy’s just confused. Again, thank you guys so much for the likes and follows, and please enjoy!

Word count: 3349

        To Bakugou you were… tolerable. However, in his case, those were pretty high marks. And it was because you were so tolerable that he found himself okay with the idea of hanging out with you more. He was fine with seeing you around after school, or maybe at the movies. Maybe even in his dorm room- okay, he was crushing on you. Hard. Hard enough that he found himself wanting to ask you out. 

        At first, Bakugou tried to ask for the annoying redhead’s help, but that didn’t work out so well. 

        “What about getting her candy and a teddy bear, and then telling her how you feel? Girls like that stuff,” Kirishima had innocently suggested.

        “What is she, five? Fuck no.” He shut down his sturdy friend instantly. After that, the blond had told his companion that he would figure it out on his own. If on his own meant he used Google. To be fair, it was the only other resource Bakugou could depend on at this point. So he searched up what girls like, and found a whole bunch of mumbo jumbo he didn’t really have the money for, but they were worth trying out anyway. The first thing on the list? Flowers. All right, he could afford that. 

        The next day, the blond hero-in-training barged into class much earlier than he ever had, even earlier than the loud-mouthed class captain, and plopped down a hefty bouquet of roses along with a small note attached saying who it was from in the middle of your desk. And then he waited. 

        When you finally showed up, Bakugou was practically snoring in his chair, reclined back with a small dribble of drool crawling down his chin. You didn’t greet him, but you never did, so that wasn’t unexpected. What was, however, was your reaction to his gift.

        “Who the fuck left their garden on my seat?” you exclaimed with disdain. The volume was loud enough to jumpstart the blond from his slumber. He furrowed his brows at your question, now wide awake. Here’s the thing, Bakugou knew you were a cusser. It was one of the few things he liked about you. But the fact that you had cussed at his gift... well, that kind of ticked him off. 

        “What’s wrong with them?” he demanded, but before you could respond, a loud sneeze echoed around the room. 

        Sniffing harshly, you untucked your face from your elbow and inspected the damage before replying, “I’m allergic to their pollen, dumbass.” Pinching the bouquet’s stems between your thumb and forefinger, you held it as far away from your face as you could while you carried it over to the trash. Bakugou’s voice stuck in his throat before he could try to stop you, so he could only watch in horror as you hovered the gift over the plastic bin. Watching his personal note work free from between two stems, the blond clenched his jaw and seethed silently when it gracefully floated to the bottom of the empty bin. 

        “Aww, YN, are you really throwing those roses away? They’re so pretty!” Uraraka spoke up, just then stepping into the classroom. She pouted sadly at the sight. 

        “Well, do you want them?” you offered, extending Bakugou’s gift towards her. 

        “Umm sure. I guess I’ll take them if you really don’t want them!” she agreed, accepting the bouquet and taking a whiff before thanking you. As you told her it was no problem, Bakugou curled his hands into fists and sneered. 

        “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

                                ###

        That night, the blond student consulted his old friend Google once more for advice, leering over his glowing laptop and scouring for anything that might help him woo you. “A poem, huh? Ugh, do girls really like that sappy shit?” You best believe he copied one of Shakespeare’s most popular pieces and dropped it off at your door signed with his name the next morning. Plagiarism be damned, he really wanted to go out with you. After watching the love note flutter to the ground face-down, he quickly knocked on your door and rushed away, peeking out from the wall of another hallway while he waited for you to answer. 

        “Okay, who the fu- what the hell?” you wondered aloud, whipping open your door and angrily peering out only to see no one. Glancing around, your eyes finally spotted the white paper on the floor. Lifting it up, you observed the backside of the note with a scrunched nose. Shrugging dismissively, you crumble up the slip of paper with both hands while grumbling under your breath, “Fucking litterers,” before throwing the ball into the trash can outside your door. After you returned inside your room, Bakugou came out from behind the wall and stared at where you had stood, totally and utterly dumbfounded. Were you really that stupid? Surely you were kidding with him, right? You didn’t seriously just throw away his love letter after only looking at the blank side, did you?

        Shaking his head, Bakugou abruptly remembered that yes, you have done dumber things. Just thinking off the top of his head, he could remember many incidents where you completely amazed him with your own idiocy before he ever thought much of your presence. For example, one time you had been so tired that you had run into the wall directly next to Class 1-A’s entrance, then proceeded to yell at it, “Move dumbass!” So yes, yes he could believe you had just thrown away his confession note obliviously. Bakugou shook his head at the memory before rubbing his temples, walking back to his own room to plot yet another tactic of confession.

                                ###

        Google was a godsend, and had provided him with the perfect gift. Jewelry! How had he completely managed to forget how much women love jewelry. Over the weekend, Bakugou had managed to convince Kirishima to buy him a necklace for you, one that was “your style.” In the end, his redheaded classmate arrived at school on Monday with a silver heart encasing a crimson stone on a metal chain. After silently thanking Kirishima with a small nod, Bakugou couldn’t help the small curl of the corners of his mouth while he lifted the locket up to glimmer in the fluorescent light of the classroom. His hard-headed companion, however, seemed a little disappointed in the gift. 

        “Look dude, I really don’t think YN is going to like that. She’s not really that kind of girl,” Kirishima insisted, a little concerned at how his friend would react if yet another confession plan failed. 

        “Trust me, this time I’ll get her. Plus, you know how all women love jewelry, it’s foolproof,” Bakugou assured his friend with a smirk eyes still set on the necklace. Patting Kirishima on the chest, the blond gestured for him to observe as he set down the necklace on your desk and made his way back, both preparing to watch your reaction. The redhead pursed his lips and bit them anxiously while his friend squinted with impatience. Finally, you entered the classroom and Bakugou had to hold back a fist pump. After all, he wasn’t victorious yet. Sitting down in your seat, you didn’t appear to notice the necklace, and the blond flinched harshly when you ignorantly dropped your bag on top of it. An apologetic hand settled onto his shoulder, and Bakugou was too stunned at your utter obliviousness to things right in front of you to shrug off Kirishima. 

                                ###

        He had watched you all day in class, and nothing. You hadn’t acknowledged the necklace at all, and you didn’t even notice when your notebook had accidentally pushed it off the table. The future hero’s eye twitched and his hands began to tingle in irritation. You had to be screwing with him! How ignorant could you be? 

        It wasn’t until after school when he discovered you had, in fact, noticed the necklace, but for all the wrong reasons. Miserably dragging his feet to his room, he had passed the common area, only to hear your heart-stopping voice. Halting in his tracks, he backtracked until he could see you and the pink freak standing in the middle of the room and conversing. Eavesdropping slightly, he leaned his head in to hear better. 

        “Oh YN, that’s so cute,” Ashido gushed, holding her hands to her cheeks as she observed the necklace you held in between the two of you. “Who gave it to yo-”

        “How much do you think it could sell for?” you asked distractedly, scrutinizing the gem in the center of the silver heart before peering back up at your classmate curiously. 

        “Well, i-isn’t it a gift?” she replied, her usually bright voice dropping with a lilt of uncertainty.

        “I don’t know,” you shrugged casually, “I just found it lying around.” Umm, no. Bakugou vividly remembered setting it down quite obviously in the center of your desk. Maybe you needed a nice, new pair of glasses. That could be his next gift. 

        Mina shifted excitedly from foot-to-foot with her hands folded in front of her heart before enthusiastically suggesting, “Well, why don’t you just keep it? It is really pretty!” 

        Pursing your lips, you looked at her with an “are you serious” face before promptly responding, “Because it’s not mine, duh. That would be rude, Mina.” 

        Distractedly peering back down at the necklace, you made your way to the exit of the common area with Ashido bewilderedly shouting after you, “And selling it isn’t?!” 

                                ###

        In a last ditch effort to grab your attention and confess, Bakugou made his way to the mall and searched for a clothing store you seemed to absolutely adore. On many of your clothes resided the word “Pink,” and the blonde student could distantly remember his mom always dragging through malls and passing by a shop with the exact same name. 

        Now, as he stood in front of the bright, highly feminine store, he couldn’t help but sneer disgustedly at its neighbor. Shuddering (and blushing) at the sight, he stepped into the original store, only to bare his teeth at the sight of the one register being in the connecting room. In that store. Bakugou groaned aloud, attracting attention from most of the customers and workers in the area. Snarling back at them, the blond continued to his original goal, wandering into the other, darker half of the shop. 

        “Why the hell are they the same store?!” he muttered to himself with a grossed out expression, all while keeping his head low to avoid staring at the rather lewd clothing around him. Although, it seemed unavoidable at a certain point when Bakugou accidentally ran into a table, looking up to find his path once more only to make eye contact with string. That’s it, he swore that’s all it was. Just… string. What the hell is that gonna do?! His face burned at the sight and he clenched his jaw tightly, searching for the checkout area so he could finish his business and get the hell out of this place. 

        At last, he reached his destination and slammed his palms down on the counter, causing the cashier to flinch with frightened eyes. “Gimme a Pink gift card. Twenty-five dollars,” Bakugou demanded harshly. The girl in front of him instantly lost her patience at the order, and she had to force on a fake smile before replying. 

        “Sorry sir,” her voice was snide. “We only have Victoria’s Secret gift cards here.”

        “Whatever, just give me a damn card,” he barked, shoving the cash into her hands. The teen boy was growing seriously uncomfortable in this place, and he despised that feeling. 

        “Here you go. Have a nice day!” the worker sarcastically chimed, beaming at how anxious he appeared. His lip curled at her tone and he grumbled under his breath as he navigated his way out of the vulgar store. 

                                ###

        Bakugou’s hands trembled as he set down the card on your desk. He was still shaken up over that stupid store, but whenever Kirishima asked him about it, he just shook off the question, mumbling about how he didn’t want to talk about it. Crashing down into his desk, Bakugou miserably shoved his chin into his hands, resting over the surface and waiting impatiently for you to see his gift. He wasn’t stupid this round. In a brightly colored, anonymous card, the blond had written about how he liked you and how he wanted you to buy yourself something nice. It was a genius plan, as now he didn’t have to worry about buying you something. Oh man, if only he had put his damn name on it. 

        When you walked into the chattering classroom and sat in your seat, you inspected the card thoroughly, even poking at it with your goddamn pencil. What the hell? Either way, when you finally opened it like a big girl and watched the special gift card drop unceremoniously onto your desk, you didn’t make a sound. You just… stared. You were totally silent, breathing evenly with a blank face as you inspected the card like it had the secrets to the world. Evidently, you didn’t want to know those secrets, as you abruptly pushed up out of your chair, ever-so gracefully banging it into the desk behind you. Your eyes were dark and unreadable, and you hair acted as a curtain around your face while your fingers braced against the desktop. It was like you were burning the hot pink words printed on the gift card into your brain. 

        Finally, you looked up and stared ahead at the teacher’s board while your face slowly grew enraged. “Mineta, you little creep! I’m gonna kick your ass!” Bakugou jumped at your outburst, observing shakily as you swiftly turned your head to the pint-sized, purple student in the corner of the room. As a result, the little squirt screamed in terror and ran away. You chased him out of the room, and Bakugou couldn’t help but bite his lip tentatively while staring blankly at where you had stood. 

        Kirishima, also shaken by your sudden outburst, made his way over to his best friend’s desk, glancing at yours along the way. Spotting what had made you so upset, the redhead groaned and dragged a hand down his face while shaking his head. “Seriously, Bakugou, Victoria’s Secret? That was your genius idea?” The blond nodded in a daze. “If she ever finds out,” he continued, “she’s going to murder you.” Bakugou could only nod in agreement, still shocked at your reaction to the gift. Was it really that perverted? 

        Helplessly, he stares up at his friend with desperation dripping from his face, whispering a small, “Help me.” Kirishima beams brightly at the admission, placing his hands on his hips.

        “Finally willing to listen, huh?”

        “Don’t push it.” Bakugou massages his temples, exhausted from the week's events. 

        “Don’t you worry, buddy. I have the perfect idea.”

                                ###

        There was still a small, minuscule chance that Kirishima was wrong, right? Bakugou could care less at this point, he just wanted to confess to you. You were strong, stubborn, loud-mouthed, arrogant, and infuriating. He loved it. Ever since you had insulted him back and then proceeded to kick his ass almost beat him up during a training session, he had fallen for you. Which was why he had gone to such lengths for you. He wanted to get you the perfect gift to return all the fuzzy, totally lame feelings you had given him. And apparently, according to Kirishima, a little bunny stuffed animal and a box of chocolates were the best way to begin to do that. The redhead had claimed that gifts wouldn’t make any girl, especially you, fall in love with him instantaneously. Bakugou was doubtful, but according to how all his previous plans had crashed and burned into one spectacularly extravagant trainwreck, he had no room to judge. 

        While letting those thoughts run rampant in his head, the normally tumultuous hero-in-training stood silently in front of your door, awkwardly waiting for you to answer after he had painfully knocked on it with his forehead. What was he supposed to do; his hands were chock full of stuffed rabbit and chocolates. Breathing a sigh of relief when the door opened to reveal you with a soft, sly smile, he shoved his new gifts towards you. 

        “I like you,” he mumbled apprehensively, looking to the side to prevent you from seeing his flushed cheeks. You could barely hear him, but you knew. Oh yeah, you definitely knew. 

        “Took you long enough,” you teased, hugging the presents to your chest. “No offense, but your other gifts were shit. Oh, aside from this.” Fiddling with the heart necklace and giving him a lopsided grin, you tossed the bunny and the chocolates onto your bed behind you before grabbing him by his wrists and tugging him inside, him stumbling in after you with a dropped jaw. “Speaking of, if you really want me to buy new lingerie, I’ll bring you along next time.” You laughed cheekily as Bakugou’s cheeks grew a darker shade of red, and he muttered at you to shut up. 

                                ###

        Bakugou’s arm tightened around your shoulder as you pushed open the door to the classroom, giggling at his deadpan joke while the corner of his mouth quirked up at your bright smile. Directing you to your seat, he released your shoulder and groaned while dropping your bag to the ground. “Ugh, why is that thing so heavy?” he whined, glaring at the weighted object. Laughing at his pain, the pair of you suddenly tense up at a smaller presence behind you. Instantaneously, the both of you grow pissed, you whipping around and glaring while Bakugou wraps his arm around your waist possessively. 

        “What do you want, pipsqueak?” your boyfriend hissed at Mineta. 

        The shorter male’s eyes widened and he took a barely noticeable step back before standing tall once more and proudly announcing, “YN, I was hoping you’ve come to your senses today and realized that you have wrongfully blamed me for a despicable, unthinkable action!” Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong, but that didn’t mean you wanted to admit defeat. Especially to him. Sneering and opening your mouth to respond, the little grape lifted a finger to pause you and continued, “I will, however, forgive you in exchange for a generous kiss.” Ignoring your disgusted look, Mineta closed his eyes and puckered his lips, only to open them once more at the sound of explosions. 

        Bakugou’s grip on your side was practically bruising, while his other hand was raised with an eruptive display for all to see. Snarling ferociously, the blond’s voice was gruff and threatening as he lowly warned, “You better get a head start while you can. I’m gonna beat your ass, you little creep.” Bakugou’s scarlet eyes were glaring nastily at Mineta, and if looks could kill,... well, you know the rest. The purple-haired pervert stumbled back a couple steps before he whimpered and spun around on his toes, hightailing it out of the classroom. Bakugou smiled at the sight and turned to brush his lips against yours. You placed your hand on the back of his neck to hold him there for a couple seconds, gently nibbling on his lower lip before finally pulling away. The tingles his soft kiss left behind compelled you to keep your eyes and revel in the waves of pleasure they evoked. You were content, at least until a loud bang ripped your eyes open. It was the door to the classroom swinging open as you saw the blond hair of your boyfriend disappear into the hallway. 

        “You purple son of a bitch!”

        Wincing at the roar, you hesitantly sat at your desk, sucking air through your teeth and fiddling with the silver locket around your neck.  “Oopsies.”

CHARACTER FACIAL EXPRESSIONS (WRITING REFERENCE)

EYES/BROWS

his eyes widened

her eyes went round

her eyelids drooped

his eyes narrowed

his eyes lit up

his eyes darted

he squinted

she blinked

her eyes twinkled

his eyes gleamed

her eyes sparkled

his eyes flashed

his eyes glinted

his eyes burned with…

her eyes blazed with…

her eyes sparked with…

her eyes flickered with…

_____ glowed in his eyes

the corners of his eyes crinkled

she rolled her eyes

he looked heavenward

she glanced up to the ceiling

she winked

tears filled her eyes

his eyes welled up

her eyes swam with tears

his eyes flooded with tears

her eyes were wet

his eyes glistened

tears shimmered in her eyes

tears shone in his eyes

her eyes were glossy

he was fighting back tears

tears ran down her cheeks

his eyes closed

she squeezed her eyes shut

he shut his eyes

his lashes fluttered

she batted her lashes

his brows knitted

her forehead creased

his forehead furrowed

her forehead puckered

a line appeared between her brows

his brows drew together

her brows snapped together

his eyebrows rose

she raised a brow

he lifted an eyebrow

his eyebrows waggled

she gave him a once-over

he sized her up

her eyes bored into him

she took in the sight of…

he glared

she peered

he gazed

she glanced

he stared

she scrutinized

he studied

she gaped

he observed

she surveyed

he gawked

he leered

his pupils (were) dilated

her pupils were huge

his pupils flared

NOSE

her nose crinkled

his nose wrinkled

she sneered

his nostrils flared

she stuck her nose in the air

he sniffed

she sniffled

MOUTH

she smiled

he smirked

she grinned

he simpered

she beamed

her mouth curved into a smile

the corners of his mouth turned up

the corner of her mouth quirked up

a corner of his mouth lifted

his mouth twitched

he gave a half-smile

she gave a lopsided grin

his mouth twisted

he plastered a smile on his face

she forced a smile

he faked a smile

her smile faded

his smile slipped

he pursed his lips

she pouted

his mouth snapped shut

her mouth set in a hard line

he pressed his lips together

she bit her lip

he drew his lower lip between his teeth

she nibbled on her bottom lip

he chewed on his bottom lip

his jaw set

her jaw clenched

his jaw tightened

a muscle in her jaw twitched

he ground his jaw

he snarled/his lips drew back in a snarl

her mouth fell open

his jaw dropped

her jaw went slack

he gritted his teeth

she gnashed her teeth

her lower lip trembled

his lower lip quivered

SKIN

she paled

he blanched

she went white

the color drained out of his face

his face reddened

her cheeks turned pink

his face flushed

she blushed

he turned red

she turned scarlet

he turned crimson

a flush crept up her face

WHOLE FACE, ETC.

he screwed up his face

she scrunched up her face

he grimaced

she winced

she gave him a dirty look

he frowned

she scowled

he glowered

her whole face lit up

she brightened

his face went blank

her face contorted

his face twisted

her expression closed up

his expression dulled

her expression hardened

she went poker-faced

a vein popped out in his neck

awe transformed his face

fear crossed her face

sadness clouded his features

terror overtook his face

recognition dawned on her face

SOURCE

Bokuto for me is an obssesive and unstable yandere. I feel like he would force his darling to play the doting housewife for him. And he sees her not paying him enough attention, he will flip and either (1) beat her up or (2) fuck her until she's a blabbering mess 😌

You right, you right😤 he’s definitely fallen so far over the edge that he thinks you’re okay with what he does to you.

When he comes home from volleyball games, I can totally see him having you obey a strict daily routine of a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and then you bring him dinner and cuddle.

Honestly tho, there is solid evidence that this boy would love to see you covered in marks from his hands, sexual or otherwise.

(Can you imagine the smirk when he’s pounding into you? “Fuck yeah, YN, keep saying my name. Who’s the only one that can make you feel like this, baby?”)

No context just oreo. <33

Oop😳

Oreos really do make the best pets tho😌😌

Ps he’s laying on my stomach rn sos I can’t breathe

He Has a Nightmare About You (Stranger Things Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: started watching this show for momma Steve, stayed for the other, also hot characters. Don’t judge me if a vecna version of this comes out soon👀 Enjoy!

Billy Hargrove:

He dreams of you often, but never quite like this.

You’re in his arms; his lips are on yours, and your hands are in his hair. 

When he pulls away, it’s to brush a strand back from your face, pushing it behind your ear while gazing into your eyes. A smile is on his face, inherently small and lopsided, but genuine. 

It’s one of those times where he can’t believe how happy you make him, how much he loves you. You turn him into a teenage boy with a puppy crush all over again, but as long as no one else is around, he doesn't mind that one bit. Vulnerability did not come easy to him, but with you, he’d tear down every wall he’d ever put up just to get closer to you. Just to hold onto you that much longer. 

“Billy…” you hum, your hands coming up to cover his own along your cheeks. He feels infinitely warmer, more relaxed at your touch, and he leans that much closer to you. 

“YN…” Billy drawls back teasingly, blue eyes soft and expectant on yours. Your breath ghosts over his lips, and fuck if he didn’t hate that you made a shiver roll down his spine. 

“I hate you.”

His smile falters. “What?”

You tug his hands off your face, leading them to drop to his sides before stepping back. You shake your head. “I hate you, Billy.” 

Billy’s body grows cold. His lips part as he searches for words, eyes raking over your face for any hint of jest. “This isn’t funny, YN.” He lets out a breathless laugh, but it’s dull and fake and trying to draw some sort of usual response from you. 

“It’s not supposed to be. I’m serious, Billy.” 

His nostrils flare, and he wants to be angry. He wants to grab you and pull you back into his chest and make you wish you’d never said those words, make you wish you never hurt him, make you promise that you’d never hurt him like this again. 

You said that once, that you’d never hurt him like he has been before. You promised.

He bites into his bottom lip, willing a level of restraint, or rather, indifference. 

She promised.

Time moved slowly the second you pulled away from him. Carefully, your arms came up to cross over one another at your chest. Your eyes hardened, not angry or frustrated, but certainly more serious and intentional from when you had said his name earlier. 

He’d never seen you so cold—not at him. 

“What changed?” The words slipped from his lips, but the second they did, he didn’t bother fighting to take them back. He felt trapped in his own skin, unable to escape the anger, the hatred, the i that coursed through veins. “Why now, I mean, after-” he cut himself off with a scoff, bitterly licking his lips, “-after fucking everything we’ve been through together, you just, what, hate me?”

He hated it, this. He hated you, and he’d never done that before. Even the thought of his betrayal being directed toward you made him feel sick. She promised.

Billy looked away, wrenching a hand through his hair and not bearing to stare at you when he spoke. “You- God,” the corners of his eyes pricked, “you said you loved me. What happened to that?” He glanced at you, hating, hating, hating that you were making him feel this fucking way. Throat tightening, he barked out, “What fucking happened to that?!”

“I don’t love you, Billy,” you muttered, seemingly unaffected by his display of emotions. “I could never.”

And you saw it. He knew you saw it. He knew you saw it because he wiped it away, and your eyes had followed his hand as he had. 

He was crying. Goddammit, he was so fucking weak. 

Despite it all, despite every single horrible moment in his life, he never knew the feeling of true despair until you were taking your love for him back and saying it wasn’t real. 

“Billy, come on.” Your tone was persuasive, placating like you were trying to reason with him. You were talking to him as though you were telling a child that Santa or the Easter Bunny wasn’t real, that they never were, and they never will be. 

You used that same soothing, calming tone the first time you tried to convince Billy that you did love him. He remembered your exact words. “I love you, and no matter how much you fight me on it, I won’t let you take that away from me.” You had been caressing a fresh bruise on his cheek, and the kiss you had left there had overpowered the pain of his father’s wound. 

“Don’t,” Billy mumbled. “Stop.”

Don’t corrupt that voice, he pleaded, though the words wouldn’t escape him. Don’t take that away from me.

“Billy.” You drew his attention back to you, and, despite the stiffness of his cheeks and lips, he sneered at your pitying gaze. “Be realistic. How could I have ever loved you?”

“Stop.”

“Your father hates you, Billy.” Your voice raised, eyes burning with a new fire into his own watery ones. “Your own mother left you. Do you know what that makes you?”

“Stop.”

“Do you know what that makes you, Billy?” you demanded, teeth bared. “It makes you unloveable.”

“STOP!”

“Billy?”

“STOP!” Billy flinched awake, sweat dripping down his forehead and spine, shivering at the breeze of his bedroom. Chest heaving, his eyes were wild and unfocused as they darted about the dark room, few objects such as his dresser and desk only visible due to the moonlight filtering through his window. 

Sighing heavily, Billy dragged his hands down his face, groaning softly and massaging his temples. 

“What a fuckin’ nightmare,” he grumbled before peering over at you. 

You, still curled up beside him, sleeping peacefully. Your hair splayed out along one of his pillows, one of his shirts wrinkled and twisted around your form, your leg still crooked over his hips. 

You were still his. Thank fuck, you were still his. 

“YN,” he shook you awake, one hand on your shoulder.

You hummed in your sleep, lips twitching downwards at the disturbance. “Wha…?” you grumbled, not bothering to open your eyes. 

“Babe, c’mon, let’s go for a drive. Wake up.”

“Nooooo,” you moaned. 

“Yessss.”

“Can I sleep on the drive?”

He raised a brow. “You think you’ll be able to?”

One eye of yours peeked open, focusing on him instantly. You pouted.

Billy’s chest tightened, but for the first time since the dream, he felt like he could breathe. Thank God. He was not going to sleep another wink tonight. Not in that damned house, at least. 

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Fine, fine, I’ll go. Stop giving me your little puppy dog eyes.” You rolled off the bed, falling onto the floor with a thud before rising to your feet and wrapping a blanket around your head and shoulders like a cloak. “But there are ground rules, mister.” You held up your hand to him. “One, you can’t drive over 30 miles an hour. Two, no loud music- or, wait, no music at all-”

“What?”

“-Three, only for the next hour or so, then we’re going back to my place to go to sleep.” You gave him a pointed look. “Deal?”

His lips sloped into his usual smirk as he rose to his feet, arms instantly moving to wrap around your waist and tug you into his chest, close and tight. 

“Deal.”

You. You, you, you. God, he never wanted to think about that nightmare again, and if he never again heard the words “I hate you” fall from your lips, even as a joke, it would be too soon. You were still his, and he knew, he fucking knew, dammit, that you loved him.

“Why are you so sweaty?”

“Don’t ask.”

Steve Harrington: 

“Steve,” Robin muttered softly. Her gaze was downcast, and she had one arm around the front of his chest and shoulders, trying to hold him back and redirect him. “Don’t look.”

“What’s going on?” He tried to peer around the others, all of whom either had their backs turned or looked at him mournfully. “Hey, what’s-” he tried to push past Robin, but Dustin rushed forward to help stop him, “-what the hell is going on?! Guys?!”

They all stood in a half circle around… something, he couldn’t see what. The kids and Nancy and Goddamn everyone except-

“YN,” Steve breathed out in realization. His heart was stuck in his throat, and the pounding of his own blood drowned out the quiet whispers of the others. “No. No, no, no, no—NO!” He shoved past the pairs of arms, pushing past a tearful Max and a sobbing Eleven, only to feel his whole body flinch back at the sight. 

“YN,” he whispered again, horrified at the sight, not wanting to believe it. “Oh God, oh fuck, oh God.”

Blood was- was everywhere. Steve’s knees wobbled and gave out as he collapsed into the forest floor beside you. His hands hovered over your body, feeling the heat rolling off it in waves from the gushes of hot, crimson liquid seeping from obscured wounds. A pool of it, he realized, dampened the knees of his jeans, cooling against his skin. 

“Steve,” you whimpered, “I’m scared. It hurts so bad.” You trembled, hands curled into tight fists as you clenched your eyes shut, tears trailing down into your sweat-soaked hair. 

“This isn’t right—you can’t… fuck.” He tore a hand through his brown tufts before springing into action, scraping himself along the damp soil to ease his legs underneath your back, your body lying perpendicular to his so he could lean your head in his lap. 

“YN, I…” he trailed off, gasping for air as his wavering hands encompassed your face. “I don’t know what to do,” he choked out helplessly. 

And you reached up to grasp his wrist, eyes so innocent and terrified. “Steve, please, I don’t wanna die.”

“This was never supposed to happen,” he rambled indignantly. “No no no because I was supposed to protect you because I always protect you, and now this is going so, so fucking wrong.” He felt the oncoming headache that arrived with fresh tears, the snot dribbling down his nose and onto his upper lip, the cold sweat that covered his body head to toe. He wanted to throw up and sob and hold you close and tight and never, never fucking let you go. 

His own heart, as you lay in his arms, was being ripped from his chest. No help was coming, there was no time to heal or press on what was already far too damaged to halt. You were… you were…

“Please,” you wailed, your screams echoing into the forest. He could hear the others shuffling around behind him, their own sobs fading into the mix. “No, please, I don’t wanna die! Steve, please!”

Steve could feel your cheeks getting colder, and he watched as your hands slowly began to unfurl at your sides. “YN, I’m so sorry. Don’t leave me, I can’t-” his own whimper cut himself off. 

“Steve,” you gasped for breath, your voice so small, so weak. “You said you would protect me.” The furrow in your brow smoothed itself out, and your chest began to slow its heaving movements. 

“I know, I know,” he weeped. “I love you so much, please don’t leave me.”

“You love me?” you whispered back. Your eyes, that had been locked on his for so long, filled with fear and anguish, shifted away, losing themselves in the black sky above. A small smile broke out on your bloodstained lips. 

“YN?” Steve questioned fearfully, sniveling as he peeled the hair away from your face. 

“I never knew that you loved me, Steve.” A single tear broke loose from your eyelids as you let them droop closed. “I love…” You mouthed the word you before you sighed, your body finally losing all of its tension, its stress—its fear.

Steve let out a quivering breath, his hands cupping your cheeks swiftly. “YN? YN?!”

“Steve.” A hand pressed on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off viciously. 

“YN!” He peeled back your eyelids, blanching at the blank look in your irises. “No, no, come on, I was supposed to protect you!” he cried out hysterically. 

Steve’s body curled over yours like he was collapsing in on himself, mouth mumbling pleas as he slid a hand over your chest, above your heart. 

Nothing.

“Steve!” The hand on his shoulder was more insistent, shaking him back and forth violently. 

No. He wasn’t going to leave you. Not now, not yet.

“Steve, wake up!”

“What?” Steve’s eyes flew open, and his head straightened up from the back of the couch, causing Dustin to yelp and jump back in shock. 

“Jesus, what the fuck?!” the younger boy screeched, leaving Steve wincing and pressing two hands to his ears. 

“Goddamn,” he hissed, “You really need to hit puberty faster; these voice cracks of yours are gonna leave me deaf one of these days.”

“Well it’s not my fault you sleep like a bear in hibernation.”

“Ew, what? That's disgusting, Dustin,” Steve grimaced. 

Dustin facepalmed. “You’re thinking of ‘heat,’ genius, I said ‘hibernation.’”

Steve faltered, nodding absentmindedly. “Oh.”

“Yeah, anyways,” he rolled his eyes, “you better head home.”

“Movie night over already?” Steve dug his palms against his eyes, trying harshly to wipe away the image of—er, that happening to you—from his mind. 

“Uh, yeah,” Dustin deadpanned, “Princess Leia changed out of her bikini about two hours ago, but I’m glad you were paying attention.”

“Well, look, if it makes you feel any better, the dream I just had was terrible,” Steve groaned, rising up from the coach and grabbing his jacket off the coffee table. 

“Yeah, I heard. Something about ‘oh no’ and ‘don’t leave’ and ‘YN, YN, YN.’” The tween rolled his eyes. “Dude, if you ask me, I’d say just ask her out already, ‘cause your pining from a distance is getting pretty depressing.”

Steve stared at him with pursed lips and blank, dead eyes. 

Then he fondled for his car keys in his jacket pocket and huffed. “Yep, I’m gonna go. See ya around, Henderson.”

“I’m serious, Steve!” Dustin called after him. “It’s getting creepy! Why don’t you just tell her that you’re absolutely whipped for-”

Steve slammed the door of his house, trekking towards his car while grumbling under his breath. “Frickin’ Dustin. I’m not whipped. Nobody,” he slid into the seat of his car, staring into the rearview mirror and adjusting it, “nobody has ever had me…” he paused, staring at his bloodshot eyes, at his tear-stained cheeks. 

“Fuck.” He glanced back at Dustin’s house, its windows still open and flashing with the action of a movie.

Goddammit, Henderson. 

Steve put his car into drive, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street, but when he slowed at his usual turn, he slammed the brakes on the car instead and stared at the sign of the intersecting street. 

You lived almost two blocks from there—Steve never realized that. 

He could—no, no he couldn’t. It was the middle of the night, around eleven o’clock according to his dash, so why in the world did he have the right to wake you up for news like that?

It can wait. His feelings can wait.

He said those exact words ten more times as he drove to your house, clumsily throwing it into park alongside the sidewalk in front of your home. He knew which window corresponded with your room, as aside from being the group babysitter and helicopter mother, he was also the chauffeur. 

“This is stupid,” he muttered to himself as he stepped out of his car, slamming the door shut. “This is so dumb; this is a terrible idea. One of the worst, actually.” 

But he picked up the pebble out of your garden and chucked it at your window anyway, pure adrenaline launching the rock at a high speed and making perfect contact with the middle of the glass.

It also left a sizable crack.

“Oh shit,” Steve hissed under his breath, hands flying up to his hair as he saw your light switch on. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The window slid up, and before he knew it, your glare found his form. Your head was leaned outside of the window, hands braced against the sill as you whisper-shouted at him. “Seriously, Steve?! What the fuck?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he jogged closer to your house, questioning scaling the side to climb into your window, but then he noticed your tangled, matted hair and nightshirt. “Yeah, that’s my bad, I, uh,” he chuckled nervously, “sometimes I forget my own strength.” He shrugged lamely. 

You gestured angrily at the window. “How the hell am I supposed to fix this?”

This is going so wrong. Dammit, he knew this wouldn’t go well. 

“YN,” he called out to you, trying to get your attention as you investigated the crack with a sigh. 

“What, genius? Got another grand idea?” you snarked. “Why don’t you go break the locks off my front door too while you're at it-”

“YN, I’m in love with you.”

You choked on your next words, eyes flying open. “What?!”

“I’m just- I’m in love with you, and I really wanted you to know that.”

While he shifts back and forth on his feet, your mouth bobs open and closed. 

“Are you serious?” you finally land on. 

“Don’t call me Shirley?” he offered back lamely, and you dragged a hand down the front of your face. 

Nonetheless, you wore a wide, abashed grin. “You’re a goddamn fool, Steve Harrington.”

Steve shook his head and smiled at that. “Only for you, babe.”

“Now go home and go to sleep so I can kiss you tomorrow, dumbass,” you waved him away. 

A stupid, lovesick smirk took over his face, painting him the absolute dope you always pegged him as. “Sounds like a plan, doll.” He spun around, swallowing a large gulp of air and wondering if you could see the way his hands shook as he unlocked his car. 

“Steve! Wait!”

 He turned back, almost too eager, to see a large blush blooming on your face in the light of your room. “I love you too.”

What a horrible, terrible, shitty-ass, perfectly timed nightmare.

Don't mind me, I'll just be reading everything your masterlist, thank you. Your writing is *chefs kiss" 🥰

Oop, thank youuu🥺💜💜 have fun my friend✨

Hey I was just wondering can you do yandere garou x pregnant reader

oof i just posted itty bitty bits of this with the metal bat and garou thingie but i could put some more random ass thoughts here

so

garou is a total sweetheart

yandere garou is a fucking monster

which makes him hot

how he would be great with a pregnart reader, im not so sure. but i shall try

certainly he's possessive af, which would provide you with moments like "you're not leaving the fucking house, stay right there and protect my baby"

but when you just scoff and walk past him, he'll groan and follow you. keeping you cooped up when you're on raging pregnart hormones is hard.

so he'll drag his feet after you all the way to the grocery store, and the second you step inside his alarm bells are going off and an arm latches around your waist not unlike that of a metal bar. and he'll yank you closer and haul u around and growl at other customers and shit bc this is a manchild that you are in love with congrats--hope you can handle two babies at once

lil pussy-whipped yandere garou just graduated into baby-whipped garou, so this mf levels up his AUDACITY.

suddenly you can't take care of yourself, apparently. you're not going to cook, you're not going to work, you're not going to take a piss without a safety escort and an ID scan. these are the rules

that's his baby, and you're his baby.

nothing will happen to you.

hands and lives will be taken if anyone touches you.

also daddy garou loves his baby so much omg its adorable the cheek squeezes and the gushes and the actual tears when this motherfucker feels the baby kick for the first time and goes "garou jr will be a kickboxing champ, maybe I can train him in the womb"

strap in, it's gonna be a bumpy ride

Sober Thoughts (Ushijima x Reader) (Partly NSFW)

(Contains a skippable NSFW scene)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Drunk and full of bad decisions, you decide to walk to Tendou’s apartment to wallow in hopelessness over your feelings for Ushijima. But wait… why is Tendou taller and bulkier than usual?

A/N: (Oh wow, um so this turned into a smut?? I honestly don’t know wtf happened) Umm, umm, umm. What. 600 followers?? How? When? Whyyyy? ASkfadshkf whatever, thank you guys so much for your support!! I’m just gonna grin ecstatically in my corner over here. No, I don’t look like a maniac, be quiet. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy this lil’ drunk confession oneshot to celebrate!

Warnings: SMUT!!!, cunnilingus, first-time squirting, & slight praise kink maybe??

Word count: 3636

        Tendou was a little taller than usual. And a little more… brown-haired. But you didn’t mind. You just needed to talk to someone.  

       You’ve loved Ushijima for years, ever since you first managed for his team in high school. He was so kind and sweet to you, always offering to help carry water bottles and encouraging you to be honest about the boys’ performance in a game. He loved to hear your insight, and you loved to hear his guttural voice ask for your insight. You stayed in contact ever since, all of you third years, and often went out on the weekends together. But your feelings for him eventually became too much.

       Tendou was the only one who knew how you felt, so you knew you could trust him with your drunk ramblings tonight. Seriously, you were hammered. Smashed. Absolutely shit-faced. Which explained why the wild redhead you had been friends with for a decade now looked so weird. And had a clone. Or three. 

       “YN?” Tendou opened the door to his apartment and looked down at you curiously. Did his voice get deeper too?

       “TENDOUUUUUU!” you screeched with drooping eyes. You held your arms open for a hug, but when he didn’t move a muscle you awkwardly slumped forward against his chest. “Hehe, have you been working out? You feel bigger than usual. Hehe.” Your voice held a drunken slur as you giggled into his shirt, poking the solid pec your forehead currently snuggled against. 

       “YN, it is almost one in the morning, try to lower your voice.” Ugh, he got stricter too. 

       “Jessussss, Tendouuuu, you sound like Wakajima now…” you trailed off, growing tired. He was really, really, really warm. 

       “‘Wakajima’? YN, I believe you are drunk. Shall I take you home?” You snorted at his chivalrous tone. 

       “No. You. Shall. Not,” you mumbled, poking his stomach with each word before stumbling past him and into his apartment. “Bingo,” you squinted when you spotted his sofa and trudged towards it, barely avoiding tripping over your own feet. 

       “DAMN HEELS!” You plop onto the leather furniture and hastily rip your five-inch heels off, sighing in relief as they release their satanic grip on your toes. “Ahhh, freedom.” You hiccup while throwing them in a forgotten corner of his living room, missing his lamp by just a hair. 

       “YN, please keep your voice down.” Tendou laments, trailing his bulkier form into his kitchen and grabbing a glass of water. 

       “Ohhh,” your eyes widen in surprise and tsk to yourself. “You’re right, you’re right, shhhhhhhh!” you loudly hush, throwing a finger against your lips while sagging back into his cold cushions. The TV is on, and you snatch the remote from under your dress-covered butt, giggling at the mishap while flicking through channels. 

       Tendou exhales slowly while lowering down to sit beside you, his heavier build causing the couch to dip and you to slip towards him. You allow gravity to take your head all the way to his thighs, chuckling when you land on his lap with a “flump.”

       “OH MY GOD, SESAME STREET?!” 

       “YN, please.” 

       “Right, sorry,” you nod before whisper-yelling, “Oh my God, Sesame Street!” You set the remote down on his coffee table and he places a glass of water and a bottle of pills alongside it. 

       “Aww, is that for me?” you coo, flipping your body so your back rests against the sofa and your head faces his chin. “You’re so sweet, Tendou!” 

       “YN, I’m not-”

       “Anyways,” you interrupt, kicking your bare against the slick arm of the sofa. The movement causes your little black dress to slink up your thighs just the tiniest bit, and Tendou clears his throat, desperately gluing his, hmm, dark green eyes (weird…) to your face. “I really want to talk to you about him.”

       “YN, I’m not-”

       “I know, I know,” you cut him off once again, crossing your arms against his chest. “You’ve been telling me to confess since high school, but I’m still scared!” With your nose scrunched up in frustration, you shake your head. Your hair must tickle his thighs below his basketball shorts, because he lets out a small snort that’s quickly disguised with a cough. 

       “Tendou, I just,” you purse your lips and avoid his burning gaze, “God, I like him so much. I think I might even love him.” Your voice still has a small slur, but your tone has grown serious. “He’s just… amazing. He makes me feel things I never have before, and I can’t get him out of my head at this point.”

       “Who?” Tendou asks, his recently-husky tone tinged with… sadness maybe?

       “Don’t be a jackass, Tendou,” you groan, jabbing him in the cheek as he peers down at you. “You know who.”

       “Remind me.” Even though he still has five or so twins, Tendou’s shape is slowly becoming clearer by the second. You can almost see a muscle twitching in his jaw. 

       “Wakatoshi.” Your cheeks burn, and you accidentally try to hide your face in his chest. You missed by a long shot.

       “YN!” he squeaks, turning your head back to face him while his ears tinge pink. Oopsies. Your face had almost turned to meet what was a few square inches south of his v-line. Wo-ah, guess who’s shirt lifted up?

       “Sorry, sorry!” you cry out, hiding your embarrassment behind your hands. Elmo chatters in the background about how to count to ten, which was the number of seconds it took for Tendou to respond. 

       “It’s um… it’s okay.” You can hear him gulp from your spot on his lap, and slowly uncover your face at his words. “So,” he continues hesitantly, “you like Wakatoshi?” He sounded so uncomfortable, but the mention of your crush makes your head start to swim again. 

       “Yes, I do!” Pressing your head harder into his bulky thighs, you sigh exasperatedly and fold your hands along your stomach. “What am I supposed to tell him, Tendou? It’s been years, I highly doubt he likes me back.” 

       “I’m sure he does.”

       “No he doesn’t,” you laugh bitterly. “Fuck! What do I do?”

       “Just tell him how you feel.” Tendou’s fingers start to comb through your hair, making your scalp itch every time he hits a tangle.

       “Ohh yeah, sureeee. Just go over to his apartment, knock on his door and scream, ‘I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU AND I HAVE BEEN EVER SINCE WE FIRST TALKED!’”

       “I’m sure he would like that.”

       “Pshh, sure, and then- hiccup!-and then tell him about how I can’t stop thinking about when he first touched my hand while helping me pick up the water bottles. And that time when I wrapped his finger after spiking too much. And that time when I accidentally hugged him after you guys won that game, and that… that other time… when you- hiccup!- guys lost to… that one team-” You pass out in his lap, your rant finally coming to an end as you give in to your foggy mind and aching body. 

                               ~~~

       “Ughhh.” 

       All you can do is groan. The lights out your window are so bright, and increase the burn of the already-present headache. Birds tweet melodically outside, just loud enough that you can hear it through the pounding in your brain. 

       God, what happened?

       The last thing you remember from last night is walking out of the club and down the street, then your memories abruptly cut off directly after. 

       Then you realize something. 

       THIS ISN’T MY BED!

       “Oh fuck,” you rasp, your throat still rubbed raw from the alcohol. Hesitantly, you try to feel under the sheets for your clothes, and sigh in relief when you find them still intact. The mattress you lay on is larger than your own at home, and it’s warmth begs to be reveled in for just a second, a minute, maybe an hour longer. But the fear that you’re in some stranger’s apartment reigns supreme, and you know you need to escape. Fast. 

       Scrambling out of the hefty sheets, you sniff the air instinctively while creeping over to the door. Is that… bacon? 

       Drool begins to gather in your mouth, and you creep through the cracked doorway to track down the heavenly scent. 

       Sizzles echo from down the hall, and you start to realize that the apartment appears familiar. Why am I at Wakatoshi’s? 

       Tip-toeing around the corner, you peer into the kitchen and drop your jaw at the sight. 

       Well hello there, back muscles.

       “Toshi?” you gulp, stepping onto the hardwood floor hesitantly. 

       “YN, you’re awake. I left a glass of water and some pills out for you.” He nods his head towards the kitchen counter, and you gratefully take a seat at a stool and down the pain-relievers in one gulp, choking down the cold water like a man stranded in a desert. 

       “Thanks,” you mumble, licking your lips while rubbing your temples to relieve the ache. “Hey, do you know why I’m here?”

       “Yes,” he chuckles deeply. His voice is still thick with sleep, causing a shiver to jolt down your spine. “You came here last night thinking I was Tendou.”

       You join him in giggling at the thought, shaking your head at your own stupidity. “Why in the world was I- OH FUCK!” 

       The memories clash all at once in your brain as events from last night hit you like a dump truck. “Oh my God!” you whisper, scandalized. Running a hand through your hair, you stare into Ushijima’s humored eyes while your own widen in horror. “Oh my God! You didn’t even care to tell me you weren’t Tendou?!”

       The intimidating volleyball player only hums in confirmation, setting down a plate of bacon in front of you before leaning his palms against the counter. You catch an eyeful of six pack and bite your lip at the sight, almost drawing blood when it flexes with a quiet laugh. 

       “No, but to be fair, you talked a lot last night,” he nods, throwing the kitchen cloth he had been using over his shoulder while eyeing you up and down. 

       “Could- umm, could you put a shirt on before we discuss this?” The temptation to stare is calling out your name, and you try so desperately to remember that it’s the inside that matters, YN!

       All muscles are actually interior, though, right? So you’re technically fine!

       “I think we should talk about it now, YN.” His face grows darker as he watches you swallow nervously. The seriousness in his tone leaves you to snatch up a strip of bacon and hastily chew on it.

       “Do we have to?” you ask with a mouthful of food. “Because I think if we gave it a little time, we would both forget it ever happened.” You nod self-assuredly and shrug at the proposition, but go rigid when Ushijima leans his face closer to yours. 

       “I don’t want to forget. I want to remember that forever, and I want you to tell me that you meant it.”

       “...I was just drunkenly rambling-”

       “Don’t lie to me, YN.” He snags your hand just as it reaches for its fifth bacon strip. “Tell me honestly, and you can decide where to go from there. Did. You. Mean. It.” Ushijima has only ever looked serious during volleyball. That’s just the kind of person he was. But right now was different, in a whole new, wonderful way. Because right now he’s watching you like you could place the sun in the sky. Like you could change the tides and shift the wind. 

       “Yes.” You clench your eyes shut and draw in on yourself, clammy hands trembling against the marble counter. “I’ve been in love with you ever since high school, Toshi.” 

       For a solid minute, you sit tensely and the only audible sound in the room is his hitched breaths. Then rough fingertips trace against your cheek, begging you to open your eyes as another hand encompasses yours on the kitchen surface. Ushijima’s eyes, so dark, so endless, are swirling rivers of olive green, tainted with the occasional black speck as he stares lovingly into your gaze. His sharp jaw clenches, his thin, pink lips press together and his brow furrows into a hardened line as he watches you, and you wait with baited breath for his reaction.

       “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear those words.” His fingers tilt up your jaw so your lips can meet his perfectly. He’s surprisingly gentle as he caresses your cheeks, your chin, your jaw. Everything. He’s so careful with you as his fingers intertwine with your own. You can feel the years of hard practice on his hands, but he handles you like a china doll. Like you would break, if he pressed too harshly, but also that you would slip away if he lessened his hold in the slightest. 

       You release a soft moan against his lips, and his chest rumbles in return as he makes his way around the counter, not separating from you for even a second. 

       Everything is slow and unhurried, from when he picks you up bridal style to when he places you down against his mattress, pressing your hips into the sheets to keep you from slipping away. A strong knee settles between your thighs, trailing closer and closer to where you need him most. 

                               *SMUT AHEAD*

       A mewl tears its way out of your throat at the feeling of him rubbing against your warmth, holding you in place as you writhe from the feeling. It’s too much so suddenly, but it’s also not enough, and you need more.

       “More,” you whimper against his lips, “I need more, Toshi.”

       “Patience, princess.” His husky whisper sends sparks down to the center of your stomach and heat gathers in your core. You clench your thighs tightly around his thigh at the feeling and he smiles against your lips. One of his hands slips under your back, unzipping your dress while the other glides down to the inside of your thigh, petting the sensitive skin and leaving your core throbbing. 

       “Hng, Toshi,” you whine desperately. He attempts to slide the tight dress off you, but you’ve grown too hot and bothered. A loud “rip” sounds through the air along with a grunt under Ushijima’s breath. Your little black dress is tossed to the side, but your mind is too hazy to care, or rather to notice. You had no need for a bra with the dress, and Ushijima curses quietly at the discovery. 

       “Fuck, princess, you went out like this?” His pupils flare at the sight of your bare chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to run the pads of his thumbs over your peaked nipples. You gnaw on your lip, trying to stay silent to not disturb his neighbors, but the ace towering over you doesn’t seem to appreciate that idea. One hand slides down your stomach, past your navel and snaps your panties against your skin while the other massages the swell of your breast. 

       “Aah, Toshi!” A slight quirk of his lips tells you he’s enjoying every move you make, and every sound you have to offer him. Your hands snap up to his hair, yanking him down into a deep kiss that implies just how much you need him. His teeth clash against yours and his tongue fights you for dominance, sharing and giving each other tastes as his hand slips into your soaked panties. 

       “God, princess, you’re so wet already. So good for me.” He smiles into the kiss before separating and pecking the tender skin of your chin and throat. A long finger glides over your slick folds for just a second, leaving you breathless and shivering in his hold. Your hands tug his brown tufts tighter when he repeats the motion, gathering your wetness and dragging it up to your aching bud, just barely brushing it. 

       “What do you want?” he whispers, biting your neck while he hovers his touch over where you desperately crave him. 

       “You,” you choke out, swallowing dryly while trying to catch your breath. 

       “Be more specific, princess. What do you want me to do?” A bruise is formed from where he nibbles just below your ear, and the sting of its formation causes your eyes to roll back into your head. Two fingertips harshly tweak your nipple, leaving you to cry out.

       “Oh God, touch me Toshi! Please touch me!” 

       “Of course, love.” His hand leaves your breast and skims your body all the way down to under your thigh, pulling it away from his knee and pressing it against the bed to open you to his sight. The other presses against your dripping sex, leaving his thumb to rub quick circles around your clit. Your body jolts and twitches from the stimulation while you scream out his name. 

       “Toshi!” 

       He nods encouragingly against your neck, urging you on while your nails dig into his shoulder blades. At last, his head moves lower and lower down your body, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your chest and against your belly button before he slides your ruined panties down your quivering legs, instantly placing himself between your thighs as soon as they are tossed and forgotten over his shoulder. Your reach isn’t long enough, so you settle for dipping your fingers into his scalp once more, scratching and tugging at every movement his thumb makes against your swollen bud. 

       Cool breaths blow against your womanhood, causing it to clench desperately around nothing. Both his hands move for a split second to draw your legs up and over his shoulders, leaving you to cross your ankles against his back while his face dips closer to your core. 

       “Toshi, please!”

       “So needy, princess,” he rumbles with a smirk, “but don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you. I’ll be the only one who touches you this way from now on.” His eyes flicker up and watch yours, swirling with desire and longing before he plunges a finger deep inside your soaked heat. The abrupt ability to clench around something leaves you crying out in relief.

       “Oh fuck, oh God yes!” 

       His lips wrap around your bud, sucking and running his tongue over it in deliciously quick intervals. Every switch is accompanied with a stronger thrust of his finger, and he adds another before curling them up against the spot deep inside of you that has you gushing more against his chin. You can no longer think straight, and the only word falling from your lips is his name at this point. 

       “Toshi! Toshi!” 

       The moans spur him on, and his fingers thrust even faster inside you, hitting your g-spot every time with a spontaneous precision that you can only thank his years of perfect spike-aiming for. Suddenly, just as his teeth nip your clit causing your whole body to twitch and scream, his fingers leave your clenching core and both his arms wrap around your trembling thighs, peeling you even more open to him. His nose digs into your clit as his tongue laps at your glistening folds like a man starved. You can’t breathe, you can barely speak as the pleasure coils tightly in your chest, choking you up in your throat. 

       “Yes, Toshi!” you sputter out, not ever wanting him to stop. “Harder! Oh fuck!” His hands dig brutally into your hips, holding you in place to prevent you from bucking against his face. The inevitable bruises are long forgotten when he groans at your taste. The vibration leaves you squealing just as his muscle delves into your aching sex. After his nose accidentally presses into your pulsing nub just a tad too harshly, the coil snaps. 

       “Toshi!” you scream, clenching your eyes closed as your whole body wracks in pleasure. Muscles in your legs flutter and tremble as you release with jumbled nonsense streaming from between your lips. Ushijima grunts in surprise at your sudden orgasm, and pulls back with burning eyes at your twitching form. 

       “Damn, princess, I didn’t know you could squirt.” His raspy words cause your eyes to rip open and you hastily get up on your elbows to see what he was talking about. 

       “Oh my God!” you whine in embarrassment, observing your wetness as it drenched his chin and bare chest. Droplets fell from his chin and dribbled into divots of his six pack while he watched you wolfishly. “I didn’t know I could do that! I’m so sorry!”

       You drop your head back to the bed behind you and cover your flushed face with embarrassment. Every muscle in your body ached from the position it was previously held in, and you screech in surprise and scramble away from a sudden brush against your overstimulated clit. You watch in shock as Ushijima’s mouth forms an abnormal lopsided grin. He observes the wetness he had collected on his index finger with darkened eyes.

       “God, I love you,” he mutters, his ravenous gaze suddenly flickering up to yours as he kneels onto the bed, slowly making his way towards you. His hands trail up from your ankles to your calves to the undersides of your knees while he encourages them apart once more, no matter how tightly you press them together. 

       “Let me make you do it again.”

Your writing is amazing. You clearly have a talent and im glad i get to see it!!

Oh thank you so much!! This comment makes me really happy, so I’m glad I get to see your writing too lol 🥰💜

It would be interesting to see Osamu try to turn his life back around, come to terms with Atsumu's death and be his own person again. BUT!!! Please don't feel pressured to write a part 2 if you don't feel like it/don't want too 🥺 I was just genuinely curious if a part 2 was possible so I sent an ask. You're already giving us so much amazing content and I don't want you to burn yourself out and do any request that you don't like 🥺❣

Thank you, your words mean a lot more than you know🙏 And I’m thankful I’m surrounded by such kind people like you on here💜💜

I’ll definitely consider making a part 2 for Lapse in Judgement, as I’m also kind of interested in where I could take Osamu’s character without Atsumu by his side. The idea has definitely been noted :)