short sleeve jumper

Komaeda is assigned to tutor Hinata in science.

Hinata’s not dumb, he just doesn’t like science and sees no point in studying it. He’s not failing because he doesn’t get the content, he’s getting U’s because he doesn’t bother to learn the content. His teacher, however, has decided to assign him with a tutor. Someone who knows all the content and who repeatedly get’s A grades. His teacher has basically condemned him to a whole world of boredom.

He stomps down the hallway, glaring at anyone who looks his way. Most people do. Most people check him out. What can he say? He’s hot. Especially hot in his black ripped skinny jeans and tight fitted dark red top. He’s a bit of a… ‘Bad boy’. That’s the label he’s been given by his fellow peers anyway. So he decided to live up to it and become the stereotypical Rule Breaker. Snake bite piercings and an eyebrow one. He smokes. Not as much as his friends, but he has a joint now and then. Constantly breaks the rules and just goes around like he don’t give a fuck. Which he doesn’t.

He loudly enters the library. Everyone turns to look at him. The librarians glower at him. They a have personal vendetta against Hinata as he attempted to burn the library down. He managed to scorch a whole bookshelf before it was put out. Why was he not expelled? The head teacher said he was 'troubled’. Whatever.

He sees that most people in here have someone with them… So he guesses his tutor would be alone- Spotted! Shit. Hinata can’t bring himself to move. His tutor is Nagito Komaeda. The most cutest person Hinata has ever seen. He usually wears shirts with a short sleeved jumper over the top, and black skinny jeans. He has glasses too. He sees him sometimes in the hallway, but they never make eye contact. Well, the one time they did: Komaeda gave Hinata the smallest of a smile and he’s been smitten with the white haired boy ever since. He’s doomed.

Komaeda looks up from his phone and clocks Hinata. The brunette ignores his heart, that is beating out of control at the sight of Komaeda’s smile, and walks over to the table.

“Hello!” Komaeda greeted. His voice is soft and sweet; it makes Hinata feel at ease. “I’m Nagito Komaeda,” he introduced. As he sits down, Hinata resists the urge to say 'OH, I KNOW’.

“Hajime Hinata,” he mumbled, straddling the chair backwards and resting his chin on the backrest. He looks through the lenses of Komaeda’s cute glasses and meets his green grey eyes. He is not cute. He is fucking adorable.

“So… Is there anything in particular you want to work on?” Komaeda asked, his face open and pure and innocent. The complete opposite to Hinata.

“All of it,” Hinata answered. Why did his tutor have to be his crush? Hinata looks so dumb. Komaeda is going to see how thick he is. Can this get any worse?

“Right, okay,” Komaeda said, and flips open a text book, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. Yep. This can get worse. It just got a hundred times fucking worse. Now Hinata is going to have to fight off a constant boner. “How about we just start off with the first part? And then make our way through the content?” He looks over to Hinata expectantly, which is awful because seeing his adorable face and gorgeous eyes is preventing Hinata from stringing a sentence together.

“Sure.” His response sounded pained and like he was resisting the urge to scream. Which he kinda is.

“Okay,” Komaeda said, smiling brightly. This is going to be hell.

It’s been three weeks since Hinata started getting tutored by Komaeda. And once he looked passed Komaeda’s adorableness he managed to learn something. In fact, the test paper in front of him has proven this. He’s got a C. A fucking C! The first actual grade he’s ever had. He can barely contain his excitement. He can’t wait to run over to Komaeda and show him his test paper.

“Well done,” his teacher said to him as he goes to leave the classroom. Hinata grins and runs out the room.

He spots Komaeda standing by his locker; just closing it. Hinata skids over to him and holds his test paper up. Komaeda looks at it, a smile spreading across his face.

“Do you see that!” Hinata yelled, pointing at the C written on his paper in red pen. “This U is on it’s side. Making a C! Thanks to you,” He added, poking Komaeda’s chest.

“I’m so happy for you,” Komaeda chimed, smiling wider. “But I didn’t do anything, you got that grade on your own.”

“Komaeda if it wasn’t for you I would never of gotten close to getting a C,” Hinata responded instantly. “So, thank you.” He pulls Komaeda into a happy embrace. “Could you tutor me in Maths as well?” He asked, making Komaeda laugh. They continue to hug for a while longer. Hinata moves his hands and pushes himself up against Komaeda, making the friendly hug more intimate. He’s about to confess his undying love, when the bell signalling next lesson starts ringing loudly.

“I’ll see you in the library later,” Komaeda said as they part. Hinata nods and watches as Komaeda walks away.

Hinata is watching Komaeda’s slender fingers as he uses his hands to explain 'Nuclear Fusion’. It is taking a great amount of will-power not to reach out and grab his hand. Pull it towards his mouth. And kiss every single finger-

“Hinata?” He looks up at the sound of his name. “Are you listening?" Komaeda asked hesitantly.

”'Course,“ he lied. Komaeda raises an eyebrow, making Hinata want to kiss him for looking so sassy and adorable and- just Nagito Komaeda.

"Oh really?” he said sarcastically, “What did I just say?” Hinata tries not to smile in amusement. God he loves this nerd. Wait. Love? Eh, so what if he does.

“Sorry?” he tried. Komaeda laughs and shakes his head slightly, his glasses falling down the bridge of his nose.

“Hinata I know it’s boring -I’m boring- but you do need to pass this subject,” he said, pushing his glasses back up. Hinata has to stop himself from making a strangled noise. He is so fucking ADORABLE.

“You’re not boring, the content is,” Hinata finally responded. Komaeda looks at him with a curious and confused expression for a moment. It’s like Komaeda is deciding something, or trying to work something out, but already knows the answer to the thing he’s contemplating.

“You need another C, even if you just scrape it,” he eventually said. Hinata chews on his lip in thought- god, Komaeda is rubbing off on him. Maybe if he had something to work for- something to motivate him to get a worthy grade…

“What if I got a B?” he inquired. Komaeda smiles, and turns back to the textbook, flipping through the pages.

“I’d kiss you.” That response, even though it’s a joke, still sends pleasurable shivers down Hinata’s spine at the thought.

“Would you kiss me if I got an A?”

“I’d do more then kiss you,” Komaeda laughed. “But you need to learn the content first,” he reminded Hinata. He taps the brunettes arm and points to the textbook.

Hinata will get that A.

Restlessly tapping the desk, and tapping his foot, Hinata watches as the teacher hand’s out the test papers excruciatingly slow. He bets his paper is at the bottom of the pile as well. He feels optimistic about this test. There wasn’t one question Hinata didn’t answer. He just pictured Komaeda’s smiling face and his lovely fingers and nerdy jumpers, and he remembered all the content easily.

“Well done Hinata,” his teacher said, placing his test paper face down in front of him. He frantically snatches it off the desk and searches for the red mark-

“FUCKING YES!” he shouted, jumping up from his chair.

Hinata frigging ran from his classroom, pushing past people, to get to Komaeda’s classroom. He see’s his nerd leaving the room and launches himself at him.

“KOMAEDA!” he yelled, startling the albino. He ignores the glower from the girl who was just conversing with him and holds his paper up, peering into his face to see his tutors reaction.

“H-Hinata… That’s, well that’s amazing, oh my god- well done!” Komaeda praised, clearly speechless. Hinata grins and lowers the paper.

“A+, Nagito, an A+!” he screeched, throwing his arms around him. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” he pulls back slightly, his face not even a gas particle away from Komaeda’s. “Thank you,” he whispered, trailing his eyes to his mouth and then back to his eyes. “Aren’t you going to kiss me then?” he asked, grinning. Komaeda turns pink and adverts his gaze. “Fine, I will then.” And he does. Hinata places his lips to Komaeda’s. Feeling Komaeda gasp against his mouth, feeing him gasp as he pulls Komaeda’s body against his. The kiss is slow, and even though it’s clumsy it feels good.

“D-does this mean you-you l-like m-m-me?” Komaeda stuttered and stammered, blushing furiously. Hinata grins and tilts his head to the side.

“Haven’t you noticed?” he responded, “Yes. I’ve liked you ever since you smiled at me in the corridor when we first started here.” Hinata feels himself flush at his confession.

“Y-you remember that?” Komaeda asked, startled. “You never smiled back, so I thought you didn’t like me-”

“I was too…” Hinata coughs awkwardly, his face increasing in the colour red, “I was too busy trying to get my heart to beat normally.” Komaeda smiles shyly in response. “Do you… do you like me?”

“Yes,” Komaeda replied automatically, making Hinata giggle. GIGGLE. Hinata kisses Komaeda again, feeling the other boy kiss him back. He holds Hinata close, clearly unfazed that they’re probably being stared at by the whole population of the school. Hinata loves it. He loves this nerd. He loves Nagito Komaeda. He’s glad he was failing science. From here on out Hinata will study, stop breaking rules (and the law), stop smoking- and spend all his spare time with his adorable tutor. Who, now, is his boyfriend.

Niall One Shot: He Saves You From an Abusive Boyfriend

So I got three requests and I’m so excited to do them! PLEASE LEAVE MORE REQUESTS.

Prompt: Idk if u do niall imagines but I was hoping I could get a niall imagine like frozen. Where I have a boyfriend who acts nice but is actually abusive. And I lose my dog and go searching for her. And I meet niall at a shop where I’m hanging up lost dog signs and he decides to help me. And then later he saves me from my bf after we find my dog. Also my name is Erin. I have long auburn hair, blue eyes and pale skin. If I’ve seen frozen you get the plot. Thanks a bunch!

Thanks for the request Erin, but I’m going to use the name Y/N, since these are One Shots for everyone!!! :)

***

“Alright, let us know if you see anything, you know where to find us,” your boyfriend, Brandon, spoke kindly, a friendly smile on his face as the two of you left the city’s stray dog center. He wrapped a robust arm around your waist, leading the two of you out of the small building. You bit your lip, wincing as Brandon’s fingers purposely pressed hard into your hip, knowing of the preexisting bruise there.

The two of you walked silently to the car, the frigid, winter air stinging your face and whipping your hair around. Burying your hands within the pockets of your peacoat, you wrapped the jacket tighter around you, attempting to rid yourself of the shivers coursing through your body.

Brandon left your side once the two of you arrived at the small car. He walked in silence to the other side of the car, getting into the driver’s side. Your hand trembled as you attempted to reach the passenger car door handle, dreading the events that were sure to ensue. For a second, your hand dropped from the metal handle, and you considered running.

Brandon was already in the car; that gave you at least a 10 second head start. You shook your head to yourself, there was still no way you could outrun him. Swallowing the seemingly-massive lump that had formed in your otherwise dry throat, you opened the door, climbing onto the leather seat wordlessly.

Your hand reached to clip the silver metal buckle into place, but you never had the chance. Wincing, you looked down to find your wrist tightly gripped within Brandon’s large hand.

“B-brandon,” you whispered, feeling tears pricking in your eyes as you stared up at Brandon, his eyes dark, his expression angry.

“You know Y/N, I always knew you were an idiot. But I never thought you could be so fucking stupid,” he spit at you, digging his nails into the thin flesh on your wrist.

You whimpered, shutting your eyes as you weakly tried to bat his hand away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your breath shaky as you hoped to satisfy him with your apology.

“Look Y/N, you’re going to find that fucking dog. I actually paid for that bitch, and at least she serves some kind of purpose.”

He let go of your wrist and you nodded quickly, brushing of his insult as your now free hand came up to wipe of the few salty drops that had escaped from your eyes.

“I’ll find the dog,” you assured him as you buckled in your seat belt, staring blankly out of the windshield. Tiny flakes of white began to fall around the car, turning into little pools of water on the thick glass in front of you.

You looked down at your wrist, fingers running over the purplish mark matching the ones littered over the rest of your body. Small, bright red, crescent-shaped marks were embedded in the bruise, evidence of the pain Brandon had inflicted upon you.

Brandon visibly tensed next to you, his hands clenching around the steering wheel. “Don’t fucking tell anyone about that,” he seethed, shooting you a threatening look out of the corner of his eye.

You nodded resolutely, your motions quick as you let go of your wrist, pulling your coat sleeve over the battered skin.

***

Your eyes shot open, the pounding on the door wrecking your few minutes of peace.

“Y/N,” Brandon boomed, his fist harshly pounding against the wooden door of the bathroom, “get out of the fucking bathtub and go hang up the lost dog posters.”

“I’m coming, give me a minute please,” you frantically called back. You stood up, the cold air biting your skin as you traded the hot, soapy water for the seemingly frigid air. Pulling the drain, you watched the water leave the bathtub as you tightly wrapped a white towel around your body.

You quickly padded over to the closet, fingering through some hangers. A small smile crept its way up to your lips, your eyes landing upon a dress you hadn’t worn in forever. The material was soft between the bath-wrinkled skin of your fingertips, the little sunflowers against the black knit creating a rather beautiful pattern.

You slid the short sleeve dress from it’s plastic hanger, pulling out a pair of black tights with it. You dropped the towel, catching a quick glance of your reflection in the mirror. Finding yourself with your bottom lip caught between your teeth, tears in front of your glassy eyes, you stared at your reflection. A large bruise covered the expanse of your hip, another above your right breast, and another light one on your face.

Quickly wiping your eyes, you slid on a fresh pair of undergarments, pulling the stockings over your legs. You found yourself smiling a little again once the dress had been pulled over your head. Tying your damp locks into a bun at the back of your head, you finally left the bathroom.

Climbing down the stairs, you found Brandon lazily sitting on the couch, flicking through some t.v. channels. For a second, the two of you seemed functional. It seemed as though Brandon was some normal boyfriend, casually waiting for his girlfriend to get ready for a date. But that was not the case at all, and you were reminded of that as Brandon barked at you from his spot on the sofa.

“Took you long enough,” he sneered, his eyes raking your body up and down. Ignoring his comment, you slowly walked over to the coat closet; however, you were unsuccessful as two muscular arms came from behind to hold your waist.

You stood still, shutting your eyes and visibly tensing as Brandon’s hot breath fanned over the back of your neck, exposed by your hair bun. When the two of you had first started dating, you would’ve loved this. You would’ve taken Brandon’s gestures and actions as affectionate, as loving.

But now you knew better. Brandon’s close hold was lustful; his touch was all but gentle, far from loving. Your eyes stayed screwed shut as Brandon’s lips found their way to the skin of your neck, pressing wet kisses to the area. This was wrong, so wrong. This whole thing was wrong. Your relationship with Brandon was wrong. Nobody deserved the shit he gave you.

“B-brandon,” you whispered, attempting to remove his arm from your torso, “please let go. I have to go put up the posters.”

Brandon scoffed, his grip immediately off you. You winced as his forceful push moved you towards the door. He rolled his eyes, “Stupid bitch.” You shut your eyes again for a moment, trying not to let his venomous words hurt you. “Go put them up, and make it quick, I want to continue this when you get back.”

You nodded solemnly, having learned long ago not to disobey Brandon’s commands. “Let me just get my coat,” you whispered, attempting to push past Brandon to reach the coat closet again.

He scoffed, “You’ll be fine, Y/N. Don’t be so needy, just go.”

“But it’s freez-” you began, trying to reason with him. He couldn’t force you to go out into the flurrying weather in nothing more than your tights and short sleeved jumper.

Brandon narrowed his eyes, focusing a dirty glare on you. “Go Y/N. Don’t make me fucking tell you again.”

You nodded quickly,surrendering and turning around to reach for the car keys hung up by the door. Grabbing them, you were going to unlock the front door, when you felt a hard slap on your behind.

You shut your eyes, inhaling a breath and holding back a whimper as Brandon chuckled behind you.

“I could never get tired of that ass.”

***

You fumbled with the small roll of scotch tape in your hands, your numb fingers not functioning properly. You were finally able to tear an uneven piece of the transparent tape off, sloppily sticking it over the top edge of one of the posters. You did the same to bottom, ensuring the crudely designed lost dog poster would stay stuck on the glass.

Your hands went up to rub your bare arms, coaxing the prickly goosebumps off. Any kind of friction would bring at least some heat to the exposed skin. It had stopped snowing a while ago, but it couldn’t be over fifty degrees.

You felt like crying, fingers barely managing to tremble as you put up more signs. But it felt like the tears would freeze before they had time to drip off your face.

You stopped hanging up posters for a moment to press your forehead against the freezing glass in front of you. The shop you were outside was a little bookstore; the lighting indoors was pretty dim, but you could make out the numerous shelves lining the walls. Shutting your eyes, you stayed like that, leaning against the glass with your arms wrapped around yourself.

“Excuse me,” your head shot up, and you turned to the direction in which you heard a voice.

“I think you dropped this,” the boy you were looking at spoke, his voice was deep, and thickly accented. You looked down, reaching a trembling hand out to take the fallen poster from his fingers.

“Thank you,” you whispered in response, turning away.

“Hey, wait,” he called again, moving forward and placing a hand on your shoulder; you fought the urge to flinch away from his touch.

You turned back around, finally getting a good look at him. The boy’s eyes sparkled an ocean blue; his blonde hair was quiffed up, but it showed a lot of brunette towards the bottom. A few freckles dotted his jawline and neck, a set of straight teeth coming out to flash you a dazzling smile.

“I’m Niall,” he spoke once more, his hand leaving your shoulder and extending out to meet yours.

“Y/N,” you stated, quietly again, not returning his hand shaking gesture.

“Uhh, listen, Y/N,” he spoke awkwardly, his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck, “you look absolutely freezing, do ya wanna maybe go inside somewhere?”

You shook your head quickly. “N-no, I’m fine. I just really have to get these posters up, before-”

“Before what?” he inquired, his eyebrows knit together.

“Nothing, nevermind,” you answered curtly.

“Come on, Y/N, I know for a fact there’s a coffee shop in this bookstore. A cup could really warm you up, on me?” He smiled a little at you, and you had to admit, that smile was just really freaking cute.

“O-okay Niall, one cup.”

He smiled a little wider, grabbing the door handle and opening it, waiting for you to step inside. Niall directed you to a small corner of the bookstore, while he went to go order the two of you some drinks.

You found the corner, identified with a small, but roaring, fireplace. One ebony colored, leather sofa stood near the crackling pit, and you took a seat. The fire slowly warmed up your shivering body, the goosebumps melting off your skin. You were at the edge of your seat, twiddling your thumbs.

“Where is Niall?” you thought to yourself, worrying what Brandon’s reaction would be if you were home later than he wanted. Or worse, what Brandon’s reaction would be if he found out you were here, and with another guy.

You looked up, seeing a smiling Niall carrying two light blue mugs, filled to the brim with steaming liquid.

“I didn’t know what you wanted,” he smiled, “so I got you a latte.”

“That’s fine Niall,” he smiled a bit, bringing the piping hot beverage to your lips. You mentally cursed yourself, the burning liquid scorching your tongue.

“Y/N,” Niall finally said, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence spent sipping the hot coffee. “It’s time to cut the shit-”

“W-what?” you immediately interrupted him. Niall had seemed like a nice guy. What went wrong? Where was this going?

“Y/N,” he repeated, his face holding no evidence of a smile. “You were standing out there, in the freezing cold, in just a dress.You flinched when I touched your shoulder-”

“So what?” you bit back, interrupting him for the second time.

“For God’s sake Y/N, you have a giant bruise on your cheek!” his voice was as quiet as a whisper, but his tone was as forceful as a shout.

“What’s it to you Niall?” you hissed, setting your mug down to leave.

“I just want to know what’s happening to you! Is somebody hurting you?!”

“Why do you even care Niall?! You just met me; my life is none of your business!” your voice was increasing in volume, all the pain bottled up inside reaching it’s full capacity.

You stood up from the couch, turning around and walking away. Before you could make your first step however, Niall caught your wrist in his. You turned around, finding Niall looking down at your wrist, plump lips parted as he stared at the battered skin.

He gently pulled you closer to him, and you allowed it. “Y/N,” he whispered, his thumb lightly running over the bruised skin, “who did this to you?”

“I-i,” you tried to speak, but you couldn’t. No words were coming from your mouth, your lips parted in silence. Swallowing hard, you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, ready to break any second like Niagra Falls.

“Who did this to you?” he whispered again. His fingers slowly came to your face, the tips running over the lightly purple skin, over and over again. They caressed the small bruise, his crystal eyes staring into yours.

And that’s when you lost it.

“Niall,” you whimpered, tears finally spilling over your eyes. You felt the salty trails run down your face, allowing Niall’s arms to wrap around your small frame. You were fragile. You were hurt. You didn’t deserve Brandon’s abuse any longer.

“Niall, please. Please help me, get me away from him. Please Niall,” you whimpered against his chest, pleading with the man. Your hands went up to fist Niall’s white t-shirt in your hands, his arms still around your trembling body.

“Shhh, shhh, princess,” Niall whispered, his voice gentle as he coaxed the tears out of you, “nobody’s going to hurt you anymore.”

***