▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 1:30 ⭒ josee! - 데이먼스 이어 damons year
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Status: Kinda activeᵎᵎ?
❝ 아, 아, 다시 너를 안게 된다면 그뗀 나의 빛을 밝혀서 너의 모든 것들을 덮어줄 게 잘 자 나의 우는 사랑 ❞
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.☘︎ ݁˖ HAEBI ⭒ aka hae or haes. she/her. in/stj. 6w5. november scorpio. 🇰🇷. lover of cats. acubi girl wannabe. strawberry chocolate <3. winter enthusiast. recently turned spring lover. ravenclaw drop out. broke ass college student. early season dean forester truther. silver jewelry girlie. studio ghibli fanatic. smiski collector. all things snoopy. kdrama binge watcher. occasional matcha drinker. panda lover. unfortunate kpop stannie (jk). forever in awe of soobin's dimples. chaewon's wife. never getting over beabadoobee's cologne. avid anime watcher. still crying over violet evergarden. webtoon enjoyer. constantly rewatching business proposal glasses scene. krnb listener. chronic pinterest user. can't make a decision to save her life. and currently rearranging my spotify playlists again. probably. ᯓ★
⋆.° i just like putting together pretty photos ₊༝༚༝༚
Hey, Mariko. Did you really die without leaving me a single letter? Where… am I supposed to go? Why did you leave me? At least we could have died together. Why didn’t you tell me? I wasn’t even beside you when you died. I found myself with your bones… and I’m still here. There’s so much… I want to say to you… even though I’m still here. Do you… feel nothing leaving me here like this?
you hook up with izuku drunkenly at someone’s birthday party and it’s not even that you regret it in the morning it’s just that your post nut clarity hits that you slept with the boy you’ve known since pre-k all because of a couple of drinks and when he wakes up you’re still freaking out and you make him pinky promise that this won’t mess with your friendship, “izuku do you hear me? we are NOT going to be that pair of sad best friends that fucks everything up just because of sex. sex is nothing. we’re never gonna do it again, so we’ll be fine right?” and the whole time he’s nodding along with wide, glassy eyes not listening to a goddamn thing you’re saying because he’s been in love with you since middle school, and last night you said you loved him, too. granted he was inside of you, and he said it first, but you said it back, and by that point it was well after one in the morning so the only thing you two were drunk on were each other. it’s probably why the very next day he is at your doorstep with a notebook in hand and a grin on his face that’s something right in between cocky and sweet when he says “i think we should sleep together again. and before you say no, i made a list about why 😁 number one: we’re really good at it. number two—”
sry i simply cannot stop thinking about adlers!kageyama seeking you out for a kiss after every game like is a post-game ritual of his. bc like. he's a touchy person by nature and whether it was a good game or a bad game, all he wants is to feel u against him, all he wants is to press in close, to be able to press his fingers into your skin, kiss you till ur both a bit dizzy, either it's to commiserate and seek comfort after losing or to celebrate and ride out his own high of winning, it's the thing he looks forward to the most.
during an post-match interview, he's visibly distracted, glancing off-screen, barely answering the interviewer's questions; she laughs and asks if he's looking for his gf cause it's pretty well known by now that he's a simp of a bf despite what he looks like, and he jerks around, nodding like "yeah, have u seen her? i need my uh --" he cuts off, blushing, but the interviewer presses on like "oh, is there a post-match ritual with your gf?"
kageyama just shrugs, "yeah. something like that."
and later, during another player's interview, you can clearly see kageyama and you in the back, you going up on your tip toes and him bending down to kiss you before someone blocks the view but there's def grainy zooms of it on insta and tiktok within MINUTES of the interview going live.
the next time the interviewer asks, kageyama doesn't even try to hide it anymore and just says, "yeah, need my post-match kiss," before bowing out to go find you.
SUMMARY: When your pro hero boyfriend comes home to find you studying, he suddenly takes a great interest in helping out. You find his methods... questionable.
TAGS/WARNINGS: nsft, hysterical literature (reading out loud while sexually stimulated), pro hero deku, deku still has ofa, support tech grad student reader, slight intelligence kink, gn + afab reader, cunnilingus, established relationship, aged up characters, fluff (3k)
NOTES: Hi guys! I have been in survival mode as of late and the writing has been slow going; my sincerest apologies for how long it’s taking me to burn down my @ficsforgaza backlog. But I finally had the time & energy on my hands this weekend to work on this one and I had such a blast!! I hope I’m not too rusty—and if I am, I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it regardless lol. Love you and thank you always for your patience. Happy Holidays!!
Sometimes, you thought you could tell your boyfriend was near, even before you heard his key in the lock.
It was something to do with his power, you’d always suspected—as a support engineer unduly interested in other people’s capabilities, you’d spent hundreds of hours turning it over in your head. It was the unnatural immensity of other people’s powers, you thought, pulling and coiling just beneath the surface of Izuku’s skin. In close proximity, after prolonged use, its presence felt like a shiver up the back of your neck.
You felt the barest hint of it now, an unsettled feeling creeping into the marrow of your bones, and you sat up on the couch just as you heard the scratch of Izuku’s keys at the door.
One For All fit cleanly into Izuku’s own unwavering intensity somehow, like the last piece of his puzzle. Though one would certainly never think so looking at him as he spilled through the door, pink-cheeked from the cold, all bright eyes, sweetly angelic features, and a riot of wild green curls. He looked windswept from the biting winter breeze. He also looked too kind to be carrying the sort of power he did—too sweet and eager and lovely.
“Look what the wind blew in,” you grinned at him over the back of the couch, after assessing he was well. Your eyes tracked the sinuous movement of those broad shoulders as he yanked his mouthguard over his head, the flex and pull of his bicep as he hung it beside the door. He was moving without pause, no sign of injury or muscle strain , and his suit was intact. Ordinarily you didn’t mind if there was a bit of shredding about the abs as long as he came back to you whole and hale, but in the winter you didn’t like him wandering about risking the chance of frostbite.
Your heart fluttered when Izuku returned your smile with one of his own, so beautiful and bright, chasing away the cold he’d tracked in like a warm sliver of sun.
“Lots of small, easy fights today?” You guessed, judging from his intact suit but clear whiff of power about him.
Izuku scrubbed a hand through that riot of curls, exposing the reddened shell of a cold ear. “I only had to use blackwhip a couple of times,” he said as he shouldered the door closed behind him, the muscle of his thighs flexing enticingly as he stepped out of his boots.
You gestured at the pot of soup you’d left warming on the stove, and the veritable pile of crusty bread beside it. Warmth and carbs, exactly what you would have wanted if you were a pro hero fresh off a long day of patrolling in the snow.
Izuku’s eyes fixed on it with an obliging amount of interest, and he almost tripped over himself in the genkan in his haste to get to the kitchen. “I love you,” you heard him say, muffled through a mouthful of bread, heard the clatter of the silverware drawer and a bowl being placed on the counter.
You smiled and turned back to the book in your lap, a particularly dry, knotty text on robotic imitation learning that had had your eyes drifting closed for the better part of an hour. It was the last you’d need to get through for your Wearable Technologies graduate course, and something you were deeply interested in incorporating into your design practice. You could train a piece of equipment on how an individual pro hero moved and deployed their quirk, and use predictive modeling to deploy assistance functionalities within milliseconds if you got it right—such as immediate cooling in pro hero Shouto’s temperature vest the moment he ignited an arm.
The implementation was going to be so cool—but the theory was so mind numbing.
You felt the couch sink in beside your feet, and Izuku peered interestedly at the title in your lap.
“Introduction to Robotic Imitation Learning,” he echoed, and you could hear the note of excitement in his voice. You suppressed a fond smile, knowing he was already thinking through the same applications you had—he was just as much of a nerd as you were.
“Introduction to Snoozing and Napping,” you grumbled, turning back to your page. “There are only so many words on the Kalman filter framework a brain can handle before the human mind shuts itself down.”
Izuku hummed in interest around a spoonful of soup, propping himself up against your leg. The exterior of his suit was still cool from the outside, and he groaned with relief from the warmth of your skin, even as you hissed at the chill.
You knew he wanted you to go on, so you generalized for him. “It’s an algorithm used for robotic motion planning—you not only take measurements of the thing you want to model but you account for uncertainties to predict the probability that something is going to happen.”
Izuku nodded, taking another spoonful of soup, gesturing for you to go on.
You summoned up the willpower to explain joint probability distribution, pleased when Izuku easily managed to follow—he’d always been a quick study, especially of anything that could be employed in the service of heroics. You’d long thought if he hadn’t been gifted his quirk, he would be an insane support engineer.
He managed to finish his entire bowl of soup in the time it took you to explain, and housed another two slices of buttered bread with the sort of alacrity you’d only ever seen in pro heroes and professional athletes, making you smile while you spoke.
His spoon clinked softly against the edge of the bowl as he set them aside on the coffee table, and he hooked his chin over your knees as you finished explaining. In the setting sun from your windows he looked especially lovely, the kind, angular planes of his face brushed in gold, softening the spots of his freckles.
His eyes were especially bright, the way they always were when something in particular had caught his interest, and he smiled at you again over the tops of your knee caps.
“I admire how smart you are,” he told you, in the simple, straightforward way he always gave out compliments. It was like a shot to the heart every time, and you could feel your face warm with the praise even after years of receiving similar compliments.
You reflexively flapped a dismissive hand. “Not smart enough to have internalized it all! I have mostly been falling asleep to it,” you promised him.
He tilted his head, a green curl falling into his eyes. “I know you won’t have a problem when you’re awake.”
You shifted your legs with embarrassment, and a long fingered hand came up to cup the front of your thigh, as Izuku turned more fully towards you. You could feel the warm, hard planes of his chest against your shins, the line of his jumpsuit’s zipper pressing insistently just below your knee.
“Gotta try to impress you somehow,” you joked, your skin prickling as Izuku’s fingers absent-mindedly drew a pattern across your thigh. You could feel the heat of his hand through the thin material of the leggings you’d lounged around in all day, the chill finally chased away from his skin now that he’d come inside and warmed up.
“You do impress me,” he said in his soft, gentle tone. Which made your cheeks and nose burn hotter.
You knew you did, and the steady faith Izuku had in the people around him was one of your favorite things about him. It still made you feel like a middle schooler with a crush to think about, though, the intensity of your feelings too much for one body to handle.
“I will study hard to live up to your faith in me,” you promised, unable to help the goofy smile you knew you were giving him.
Izuku’s chin shifted against the tops of your knees, and he pressed his mouth to the knob of your left one, leaving a smiling kiss. “Tell me more?” he asked, fingers still sliding softly over your thigh.
“I’ll read it to you as I go, then,” you said, turning back to the brick of a tome, propping it up more firmly on your stomach as you adjusted yourself against the couch arm. Izuku’s eyes watched you over the top of the pages, that emerald gaze tracking your face closely.
“‘The algorithm works via a two-phase process: a prediction phase and an update phase’,” you began, trying to turn your attention away from Izuku and back to the text. “‘In the prediction phase, the Kalman filter produces estimates of the current state variables, including their uncertainties. Once the outcome of the next measurement (necessarily corrupted with some error, including random noise) is observed, these estimates are updated using a weighted average, with more weight given to estimates with greater certainty.’”
Izuku’s long fingers traced firmer lines across your thighs, almost like he was taking notes. He layered another kiss along the line of your knee, eyes glittering at you as you read.
“‘The algorithm is recursive,’” you continued, “‘It can operate in real time, using only the present input measurements and the state calculated previously and its uncertainty matrix; no additional past information is required.’”
You almost jumped as Izuku’s mouth trailed lower, into the space between your knees, leaving kisses along your inner thigh. His fingers gently pulled one thigh away to make space for him in between, and you cleared your throat, trying to return to the text at hand.
“‘Optimality of Kalman filtering assumes that errors have a normal–that is, Gaussian–distribution,’” you read on. “‘The following assumptions are made about random processes: Physical random phenomena may be thought of as due to primary random sources exciting dynamic systems. The primary sources are assumed to be independent gaussian random processes with zero mean; the dynamic systems will be linear.’”
Izuku let out a soft breath, insinuating himself further between your thighs. Your own breath came out a little uneven as he bent over you, mouth tracking dangerously towards the inseam of your leggings.
You paused, but Izuku fixed you with a look of his slightly-darkened eyes. “Please—keep reading,” he said, his tone a little lower than it had been a minute ago.
You swallowed in shocked understanding, skin tingling. You felt yourself nod, as Izuku’s fingers strayed to the waist of your pants, dipping below the band.
You let him slowly peel your leggings down, your underwear with them, adjusting as needed to make it easy for him, even as you tried to return your attention to your textbook.
“‘Regardless of Gaussianity, however, if the process and measurement covariances are known, then the Kalman filter is the best possible linear estimator in the minimum mean-square-error sense,’” you quoted, nearly squeaking when Izuku pressed his mouth to your hip, his curls tickling the skin of your belly. His hands gripped either side of your thighs, palms square and rough against your skin, and you tried not to shiver with the feeling.
“Um—‘Although there may be better nonlinear estimators’,” you said, then nearly jumped out of your skin when Izuku pressed his mouth to the core of you, only the strength of his grip stopping you from accidentally kicking him in surprise.
“Oh my g—uh! It—um—‘It is a common misconception perpetuated in the literature that the Kalman filter cannot be rigorously applied unless all noise processes are assumed to be Gaussian,’” you managed, before your cut off into a groan as Izuku layered a hot, sweet kiss over you, tongue dipping carefully between your folds. “Ah-–Izuku—”
Izuku petted a thumb gently over the top of your thigh to show he was listening, even as he swiped his tongue over you again, a long, firm stroke that had your thighs flexing in his hold. He laved over your clit, sucking ever so slightly, and your grip almost tore the edge of your textbooks as it tightened.
“Keep going,” he urged briefly, then did it again, punching a groan out of you.
“Extensions—oh—‘Extensions and generalizations of the method have also been developed, such as the extended Kalman filter and the unscented Kalman filter which work on nonlinear systems,’” you read on, voice shooting up nearly into a squeal when two of Izuku’s long, firm fingers pressed into you, as his mouth moved over you again.
“Ah! Oh my god—the—um, the basis—-” you said, breath growing short. Izuku’s fingers unerringly found the spot inside you that made you twist in his grip with the ease of long practice, and his jaw worked as he kissed you so shockingly filthily. You could feel something already starting to build up behind your navel, a fluttery lightness, an insatiable insistence on more.
“‘The basis a hidden Markov model—oh, fuck—such that the state space of the latent variables is continuous and all latent and observed variables have–ah!--Gaussian distributions,’’’ you recited, your voice tripping up further into a register that sounded more like begging than reading.
Izuku’s fingers worked you, long and thick and perfect inside you, as his tongue drew unrelenting circles around your clit. Stars seemed to spark in your vision, and your eyes squeezed shut, losing your place on the page as your hips flexed into his face. You felt suddenly very floaty and lightheaded, and not at all in a position to keep going.
Still, you tried to refocus your attention.
“‘K–Kalman filtering has been used successfully in—oh—multi-sensor fusion—ah, ah!--and distributed sensor networks–fuck, please, Izuku—to develop distributed or consensus Kalman f-filtering,’” you said, your tone nearly a cry.
Izuku groaned softly, sucking gently as his fingers curled inside you. It made your veins spark under your skin, your legs shaking in Izuku’s hands. You abandoned your grip on your book to seize the arm of the couch, clawing desperately at the fabric.
“Please, Izuku,” you cried, hips bucking towards his mouth.
The book tumbled off your stomach but you hardly noticed, gaze refocusing on the way his eyelashes fluttered as he licked you. His fingers played gently within you, a maddening press that was simultaneously too much and not enough, and his other hand came up to slide under your sweater, plucking gently at your nipple.
You lost yourself to the feeling—caught between the mind-melting curl of his fingers, the delicate suction of his mouth, and the careful pinch of your nipple. A delicious heat curled through you, waves of unbearable pleasure, and you could hear yourself babbling nonsense—garbled syllables of Izuku’s name, and every entreaty you could think of, a hundred thousands mores and oh pleases.
Izuku abandoned your nipple to pull you more firmly against him with a strong arm curled under your thigh, pressing you even harder into his mouth.
You muffled a scream in the sleeve of your sweater as he sucked you harder, tongue laving over you in loving strokes. Only his terrible strength held you down as you writhed beneath him, and then his fingers twisted in a way that had your vision whiting out—and you were suddenly thrown out over the edge of your pleasure.
Izuku licked you through it as you squirmed and begged and cried out his name, your climax seeming to last for eons.
You were panting hard when you finally slumped into the cushions of your couch, the ceiling seeming to swim in and out of focus before your eyes. When you gained enough control of your body again you looked down at Izuku, finding him watching you with a satisfied, almost shy curl to his mouth.
“You’re beautiful,” he told you, emerald gaze glittering with sincerity. “You’re so smart.”
Impossibly you felt your heart swell with even more love for him, and you seized his shoulder, dragging him up over you so you could kiss his mouth. The taste of yourself on him was embarrassing yet thrilling, and you petted a pleased hand through Izuku’s wild mess of curls as you kissed him.
“Well you are amazing,” you told him, swiping a thumb over his cheek fondly, smoothing over his freckles. A gorgeous watercolor of pink washed over his cheeks and nose at the proclamation, and you could hear his fingers flex in the cushion beside your head.
The sight of him flushed and waiting over you like another small something inside of you, like a pilot light, and you let your mouth pull into a wry grin.
“I hope you know I learned nothing though,” you said casually, your plan for your next steps already forming in your head. You let a hand trail carefully down Izuku’s flank, tracking towards his waist. “I think maybe I might need a few rounds for it to really sink in.”
Izuku’s ears went red against the green of his hair, and you felt your smile widen. “Maybe you could read it to me this time?” you asked, guiding him to roll under you, retrieving your book from the floor as you did so.
You settled yourself on the tops of Izuku’s thighs, feeling the hard press of him against your core, as you placed your textbook into his waiting hands.
Izuku’s answering smile was all the permission you needed. You directed him to start from the beginning of the chapter, and he did so in that soft, lilting tone of his you so loved. And then your fingers trailed up to the zipper at his collar.
It was time to return the favor—wholeheartedly.
REFERENCES: Kalman Filtering (Wikipedia)
I took the passages our Reader recited from here because I do not actually understand Kalman filtering at all and could not organically come up with feasible text for her to read through. Sorry in advance to the author of this page lol.
where you're just a high school student who happens to work at a convenience store near jujutsu high | a moodboard w/ headcanons
++ This is just a cute idea I had in my drafts for a while, tbh I don't rlly know if it makes sense, like would there be a convenience store near jujutsu high, idek
stocking shelves upon shelves, fake smiles that don't reach up to your eyes as you scan items and wish customers a good day
the only bit of excitement throughout your shifts was the quiet boy who always lingered among the snack aisles despite always buying the same thing every time, onigiri
the quiet boy with silver hair who always has the bottom half of his face covered
who stares at you while you ring up his items or when you count his change back to him, like he's memorizing your features, or something
who quite literally has never spoken a word to you despite giving him your warmest smiles, the ones that did reach your eyes
you only see him sometimes but nonetheless, you're still curious about him
something about it has your mind wandering towards him during your classes—thinking about him and how soft his hair seems to be when you should be taking notes about whatever it was the teacher was explaining
—wondering how long his eyelashes are exactly and what he's covering under those masks and zipped-up hoodies, zoning out as you make your friends repeat what they're saying for the third time
—imaging how deep or soft his voice must be and how it would sound if he were to ever say your name, as you sit in your living room, the tv becoming background noise
but then again, if he were interested he would've said something by now...right?
that's why it catches you by surprise when he's handing you his phone with the phone app pulled up and opened to the keypad
you're already punching in your phone number and handing his phone back to him before your mind can even process it
the two of you are inseparable, metaphorically, as days pass with your nose in your phone, fingers tapping away at the screen, and a shy smile plastered on your face
from the mysterious jujutsu high you've always walked past to the beautiful markings on either side of his smile, you learn everything about him
he's nervous about it at first, not sure that you quite understand how dangerous it all is
but you ease his worries away, with each brush you give to his soft hair with your hands or every kiss you peck onto his nose, cheeks, then his lips
it takes you a little over 3 months to fully understand his lingo, but you wouldn't have it any other way
from late-night convenience store runs together to intense, competitive, game nights, you really wouldn't have it any other way
because inumaki makes it so easy, too easy, to love him
─────what do you know about it? what does this remind you of?
how does a simple number in someone's bank account make one tremble this much? settled in a league so far out of your own that you were surrounded by brands you had never even heard of, grazed by fabrics you had never felt before
laughter, laughter, laughter..right...but why is it so tense?
something only a small selective circle, the world's 1%, had the pleasure of indulging. what a sick and twisted.....a rich rich world.
don't get too caught up or it might just swallow you up; remember that what we settle for, these people start off with it.
yearn for more. i command it- please, i beg for it.
can you really show me you love me? like i'm your whole heart?? like you cannot breathe if i'm not near and even if nothing else makes sense, me being by your side does, perfect sense...
| show me real love
hold me and kiss me like i, solely i, hold the keys to your heart. the complexity of your emotions and the depth of your thoughts, show them all to me, only to me, and i will do the same. give me all of you..and i will give you all of me.
─────what do you know about it? what does this remind you of?
how does a simple number in someone's bank account make one tremble this much? settled in a league so far out of your own that you were surrounded by brands you had never even heard of, grazed by fabrics you had never felt before
laughter, laughter, laughter..right...but why is it so tense?
something only a small selective circle, the world's 1%, had the pleasure of indulging. what a sick and twisted.....a rich rich world.
don't get too caught up or it might just swallow you up; remember that what we settle for, these people start off with it.
