A conversation at your doorstep occurs as Bakugo, your classmate, drops by to set his mind straight.
Bakugo scowls, "seriously, stop whatever you're doing - voodoo in my brain and crap. It's... it's weird alright? I don't need you distracting me from becoming number one. I'll crush you one day, hear me?" His finger jabs into his chest enthusiastically.
I genuinely have no clue what this goober is talking about.
Onto something? Nah... On something? Maybe steroids, with the amount of muscle this boy has.
And crushing me? Hah, he doesn't know I'm already three steps ahead.
"I'd like very much to be crushed by your girthy cleavage." I murmur seductively.
Emboldened by his closeness, I reach out and brush a spiky lock of blonde hair out of his eye, biting my lip. He freezes instantly at the touch, shoving my hand off roughly, palm so warm it scorches my fragile, thin skin.
I moan in shock, junko posing on reflex as I look down at the red welt.
By the time I look back up, he's already storming off down my drive, hunched over with his hands deep in his pockets. Tears well in my orbs as I watch him scamper away around the corner, and I lift my head to look up at the stars - the only things in this world that come close to my dazzling perfection. I was so close to those enticingly firm G-cup man titties...
The cloud cover shifts under my regard, revealing the full moon, round as my plump cheeks (not the ones on my face).
I clutch my injured hand, scorned by the one I love. My chin tilts back as if I'm under a trance, and I drop to my knees as my throat opens, howling mournfully at the moon.
All Mights great heavy sack, how could I have screwed up that interaction so badly?! God, she just drives me up the wall but I can't even get mad at her ethereal face.
My wrist twitches - I can still feel her feathery soft skin, see the twisted shock in her face as I burned her. As I stomp off like an ogre, pained howling meets my ears. Damn neighborhood dogs.
Not only do I now have a gnawing feeling of guilt weighing in my lungs, but also a huge tent in my pants from just ONE encounter. God how pathetic can I get?
I march straight home with my boner swinging side to side like I laid a log in my underwear back to front. However, no matter how frustrated I am, I'll always get a fierce paternal instinct over the little fella. I pat my tip through my trousers.
"There there Bakugo junior." I mumble reluctantly, earning a stare from my neighbor - Yuji Itadori, who's sat topless in his front garden gnawing on what looks to be a finger. Absolute tosser.
I slam my front door, kicking off my shoes and ignoring my mom's yells as I scuttle off to my room. As soon as my bedroom door cuts off the noise from the house, I jump onto my bed and immediately get out my glittery diary and glasses, furiously scribbling down my earlier encounter with y/n.
Once I'm done meticulously listing all the things I despise about her, I padlock my diary and shove it back into my springlock-trapped drawer. NO ONE goes through my personal shit.
I tape my boner down in loathing with some spare washi tape I find in mom's craft drawer, then head to my indoor gym, tugging on some boxing gloves as my body thrums with anticipation and heat.
The face I picture varies as sweat drips down my bare back, arms bulging with each hit. Y/n. That class 1B jerk. Y/n. Deku. Y/n. That other class 1B jerk. Y/n.
Tears and sweat bleed into one another, and as the clawing at my lungs increases, so does the speed of the punches I throw. My own face is now etched into the boxing bag, and I reel back harshly, a sharp POP ringing in my ears.
The sweat on the equipment ignites, a char mark left on the wall. A char mark just like I left on her wrist.
Wrenching my hands free from the blackened boxing gloves, I stalk away from the pile of ash my explosion left. I've made up my mind, I won't be able to think clearly until this guilt fucks off, so I'm gonna have to talk to y/n again, whether I like it or not.
