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#kat you are too good for the world
godblooded · 8 months
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sometimes when everything feels hopeless i want you to remember there’s some good in this world, mr. frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.
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vanibear · 1 year
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they werent lying. the end of ddd really is a nightmare if you are severely underleved but also refuse to go back and grind
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inkats · 5 days
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ok i think its been long enough. but the big bang theory hating of a few years ago caught me off guard. like yes i understand its not good. but people being like who was this made for. uhm. people who get home late and eat dinner at 8 and need something to watch on da television. And me, age 8. it wasnt. that bad. it was just normal network television sitcom. have any of you watched network television sitcom thats not like. always sunny.
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megu-meow · 24 days
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when gojo falls in love - gojo satoru
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gojo satoru x fem. reader
Summary: She fell first, but he fell harder.
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It was hard not to fall in love with Gojo Satoru. He was a ray of sunshine, always lifting the mood in every room, radiating the friendliest, kindest aura you have ever witnessed. His youthful, laid-back personality complemented his intelligence and wit, always having a funny comeback to Suguru's constant teasing.
He seemed so unapproachable to you, the Strongest, the Honored One, the Heir of the Gojo Clan, the Wielder of the Six Eyes, and Master of the Limitless. Those were the titles he was referred to in your crazy world, someone who was to be praised for the immense power he wielded and the enemies he had eliminated. However, you saw Satoru in a different light, finding other reasons to praise him. The gentleness he would befriend a stray cat with, the way he politely bows at the cashier at his favorite bakery, or the fact that he makes soup for everyone after a night out to cure your hangovers. He buys a bouquet of tulips for every girl and woman on Jujutsu Tech's campus, without exception, on International Women's Day. He remembers the lunch lady's son's birthday and gives her the remote-control car the young boy so desperately wanted because he knew Watanabe-sama, as he refers to her, could never afford it. He sits down to play chess with the elderly man in front of the convenience store every day because he knows he lost his opponent for the last 40 years not too long ago.
It is easy to fall in love with Gojo Satoru, however, it is hard for Gojo Satoru to fall in love. Or at least, that's what he thinks. At first, when you join them, he doesn't give much thought to it. He's pleased that there is another girl added to the group, so he and Suguru don't have to listen to Shoko's constant whining about them being gross anymore. He also relishes in the attention you give him, because he knows you're quite infatuated with him, like most of the girls are.
However, as time passes, he realizes that your kindness makes a red hue run across his pale cheeks. Every time he does the smallest things, you praise him for it. Others don't compliment him on his politeness, something he prides himself on because his mother taught him to act this way - the only person who loved him for him so far. Other people praise him for his technique, his unique eyes, and his otherworldly good looks. You're the only one who notices the small things he does and that warms his fragile heart. So he asks you out on a date.
He doesn't give it much thought, just a walk in the park full of cherry blossoms and ice cream. However, he swoons at the fact that you seem like this is the best date you have ever been on, you thank him repeatedly for paying for your ice cream and offer him the Kit Kat chunk the guy stuck into your dessert as an attempt to flirt with you, because you know Satoru loves Kit Kats, they're his favorite candy bar.
Gojo Satoru reaches one important conclusion that night, after walking you to your dorm room. You are, in fact, very easy to fall in love with.
Instead of fighting it, he lets this new feeling flourish. He starts putting in an insane amount of effort, he pays attention to the small things, he drinks up every word that you speak, he takes notes on his phone because he wants to walk the extra mile for you. His new goal in life becomes making you, the first girl who looks past the titles and likes him for him, happy. His enthusiasm in doing so never falters, even after years together or after marriage.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asks you as his extremely perceptive eyes take in your slumped shoulders, the dark circles under your eyes and the slight frown that replaces the pretty smile he fell in love with.
"Long day, baby, long day." you sigh and he is quick on his feet, he embraces you, leaving a loving kiss on the crown of your head.
"Change your wizarding clothes, pretty girl, I'll run you a bath. How does that sound, huh?"
"Amazing, Satoru. Thank you!" you respond, smiling tiredly, leaving a kiss on his glossy lips.
"Everything for you."
Not only does he prepare a bath, but he also lights some candles, drops some lavender-infused salts in the water, and prepares some fruits and your book as well. While you relax your body in the water which is the perfect temperature, he makes your favorite meal for dinner and starts up the fireplace so that the two of you can cuddle up on the couch.
After dinner he holds you close, absentmindedly running his hands over your back, in your hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, small confessions that make you feel a lot better about yourself. Satoru would like to think that he is perfect at everything, but there's only one thing he takes pride in the most: learning how to make you feel better over the years. He always knows what to do, regardless of the reason why you're down. He knows how to pick you up.
"Toru?" he hears your voice, calling him by his favorite nickname. It makes him blush every time you call him that and he swears his heart picks up too.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Don't you ever get tired of taking care of me?"
"How could you say that?" he asks as he sits up, glaring at you with offended eyes "Of course not, baby. You're my everything, I could never get tired of making you feel good, love. It is also my duty as your lover to ensure your happiness. It's in my contract and everything." he makes you smile fondly, adoring his way of phrasing these things. Because even the hardest of conversations are pleasant when Satoru is there to put things so stupidly.
"Oh yeah? What else is in this contract of yours?"
"That I have to kiss you all the time. And - and that I will have to get you a cat at one point because I know you want one. I have to feed you when you're hungry and I have to do the laundry when you get home late. Oh, and most importantly I always have to split my desserts with you. Only you, not even Suguru gets to do splitsies."
"I see. And what is in my contract?"
"Nothing. You already honored yours." he says curtly and you look at him with confusion.
"How?"
"Well, the only thing in your contract was that you have to be my lover. Nothing else. I'm the one doing the heavy lifting here, every day I get to spend as your significant other is a good day for me. You don't have to do anything else to make me happy." he explains.
You look him in the eyes, your irises filled with nothing but adoration towards the man in front of you. It is so easy to be in love with Gojo Satoru, because he is a gentleman in a world of boys.
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tteokdoroki · 8 months
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☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. in good hands.
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about. katsuki experiences phantom pain in his hands from quirk usage and you try to massage the pain away.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, hurt comfort, fluff, angst, phantom pain/limb, war arc references, ptsd, mentions of therapy, descriptions of pain, bakugou being loved so tender, afab!reader + pro hero!bakugou.
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the idea of giving bakugou hand massages is so intimate.
his quirk is so raw and powerful, i feel like becoming a pro-hero would only make his palms more calloused, cause aches between his fingers and scars that burn like with a phantom pain at random points during the day. and even though katsuki is smart enough to know that his scars have healed, his wounds have scabbed over and new skin has grown — he can’t shake the stabbing, tingling feeling that crawls up his arms as if a thousand tiny needles are pricking him.
the massages start when you catch bakugou on his knees in the middle of your shared bedroom, his hands clenched in fists so tight his nails have made his palms bleed. you set the fright in his eyes, the ache intertwined with the mauve brown that forms a rim around the ruby centre.
“what…what happened kats?” you’re quick to fall to your knees by his side, hesitant to touch him, worried for his safety — because katsuki hasn’t been like this in years. he’s been doing so well, seeing his therapist and taking his meds — ever since the day he came back to life.
but you know just by looking at him and listening to the ragged breaths just barely escaping his lungs, that bakugou is not okay. “i don’t fucking know,” his voice is strangled and panicked, like a deer caught in a hunter’s trap it can’t escape. “it just…it just fucking hurts a-and i can’t get it to stop.”
that day, you hesitantly reach out to touch katsuki— trying not to spook him as if he’s a frazzled wild animal. “let me see,” you whisper evenly, avoiding a croak in your voice because seeing him hurt, hurts you. slowly but surely, the blonde uncurls his fists, letting you take his hands into your own — smaller ones. at first, his strong and muscular stature flinches back, crumbles down to the ground in chunks of the brash man he used to be. “it’s okay, baby, i got you.”
your words wrap around katsuki like a tender hug, safe and secure between each and every one. your finger tips trace softly over the marred flesh of his hands, guiding katsuki through each of his painfully relived memories. trembles wrack the blonde’s body like a high magnitude earthquake — he can barely hold it back now, the tears that gather in his sun kissed lashes and burn tracks down his cheeks. but you don’t want him to hold back. you want him to feel.
thumbing the parts of his hands where the pain is centred, you lean forward to kiss bakugou on the forehead, providing an epicentre of relief. he wouldn’t call you a cure, no, it’d be too selfish to put the burden of his ease on the person he loves most. instead, he says that you help him heal, soothing the fuzziness locked between his cramping digits and extends up the muscles of his arms.
when you touch him as if he’s made of glass, katsuki knows that he can be vulnerable with you and that dull ebb of phantom agony seems to dissipate under the gentle drag of your fingertips over his skin. the two of you stay on the floor for a little longer, working through the aches pulsing in katsuki’s palms and arms until they eventually stop — just like his tears do.
“thank you,” he says, voice as quiet as you’ve ever heard it. “‘m sorry—“
“never be sorry for being in pain or asking for help.” you cut him off before his words take residence in the quiet hum of the air. shifting to your knees so that you tower over him (sitting legs crossed on the floor), you drag katsuki’s head to rest in your chest — cradling him and shielding him from the cruel world. “i don’t ever want you to be sorry for this. i’ll by your side no matter what. you hear me, baby?”
katsuki only nods, knowing doesn’t need to respond with words while his hands hesitantly come up to wrap around your waist. he pulls you into him so that you don’t disappear. and while you stroke back his hair and squeeze him so tight — katsuki realises that as long as he has you, he’ll never be weak or have to hide how much life hurts sometimes.
as long as he’s with you, he’ll be in good hands.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months
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Accident
Kyra Cooney-Cross x Gorry!Reader
Summary: It wasn't planned
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You were the best mistake Kyra ever made.
It was a complete accident when she kissed you, tripping in the crowded pub and smashing her lips against yours.
You giggled at the horrified look on her face when you helped her to stand, one of your hands still holding her waist. "Usually someone has to buy me a drink before kissing me."
You didn't yell at her or scream or punch her in the face so Kyra took it as a win even though her insides were twisting in horror and her face burned red.
"I can still buy you that drink?" Was what she offered in return.
"Sounds good."
Your love affair begun in that moment.
Kyra counted herself lucky that she managed to find the only other Aussie in London who wasn't attached to a football team. She also counted herself lucky that you avoided football like the plague.
Ever since the World Cup, the attention she was receiving was just a tad too excessive so it was nice to sit with you at home and relax, to not be Kyra Cooney-Cross the midfielder but just Kyra, your girlfriend.
"My sister plays," You said one evening as you swiped a chip off her plate," That's probably why I avoid it. Call me childish but I can't be into the same things my sister's into. It would make me seem like a very bad little sister."
"Or a good one, from her perspective," Kyra laughed.
"It's not that me and Kat aren't friends," You said," It's just we're very separate in our interests. I never really enjoyed being compared to her."
"And so you avoided football?" Kyra quirked a brow. "All football?"
"Well, clearly not all football," You replied, leaning forward to capture Kyra's soft lips with your own," Not yours."
Kyra drew away with a cocky smirk. "Of course not mine. You're my wag."
You rolled your eyes. "Whatever."
Domesticity with you was easy, Kyra found. It was completely stereotypical to move in after three dates but she was a big believer in if you know you know.
And Kyra knew.
So, she moved in with you.
You did the chores around each other. If you did the laundry then she did the dishes. If you hoovered then she polished. It was easier than ever before and Kyra settled easily into life with you.
"My sister's moving to London," You said one evening as you lay in bed together," Would you like to meet her?"
Kyra, who had been drawing absent patterns on your arm, froze. You didn't speak much about your sister just that she lived in Sweden with your niece and her fiancée. It was clear that you had a close relationship from the few times that you spoke about her.
Kyra's throat bobbed a little bit in worry.
You were her first proper girlfriend (and she was yours). She just knew that she had to make a good impression.
"You don't have to," You said when you noticed her silence," It was just an idea."
"No! No...I'd love to meet her."
"She'll love you, Kyra. I promise."
The week running up to meeting your sister was full of worry and anticipation. Kyra wrote out a script in her notes app about conversation starters and things to say about herself that would make her seem like the best possible partner for you.
She didn't want to leave anything up to chance with this. Not with you and not with your sister.
Kyra paced outside of the café where you agreed to meet her, wiping off her sweaty hands and muttering under her breath about how best to introduce herself.
"Kyra?" A familiar voice from behind said," Is something wrong?"
"Mini!" Kyra exclaimed," What are you doing here?"
"I'm meeting my sister soon," Mini said," She's meant to be telling me some big news. What about you? This is pretty far from St Albans, isn't it?"
Kyra laughed awkwardly. "I'm meeting my girlfriend's sister today. I want to make a good impression. I don't want her to kill me or something for knocking around with her little sister."
Mini laughed, clapping Kyra on the back. "Don't be stupid, Kyra," She said," You're the best girlfriend anyone can ask for. No one's going to want to kill you."
A blur appeared around the corner and you wedged yourself between the two of them, throwing your arms around both of them. "Kat! Kyra! You ruined the surprise! We were meant to tell her together!"
Kyra looked between you and Mini.
Mini looked between you and Kyra.
"She's your sister?!"
"You're dating Kyra?!"
You looked between them. "Do you two know each other?"
Kyra watched as Mini's eyes narrowed.
"I take back what I said," Mini said," I'm going to kill you."
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itsbeeble · 4 months
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"FRIENDLY" COMPETITION
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SUMMARY: The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?
GENRE: smut, fluff, angst
PAIRING: Lee Sangyeon x afab!reader
WC: 7.6k
SERIES MASTERLIST
PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez
18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
WARNINGS: the enemies to we fuckin genre makes a return, mentions of alcohol, eric is a cockblock FR, cops are called oops, making out ig, HEAVY marking but it's more biting each other than anything else, mentions of bets, insults (sexual and non sexual), degredation kinda, choking kinda, hairpulling, overstimulation, face fucking, hate sex, begging, Sangyeon is mean in this oops, idk there's like 3.5k words of smut in here, Sangyeon is really possessive, brat!reader x brattamer!sangyeon, unprotected sex, this is actually kinda nasty i'm so sorry yall
A/N: um...anywayyyyy....i didn't expect to write this much for Sangyeon's fic but uhhh yeah. I hope y'all enjoy whatever...this....is
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“Killer party,” your painted red lips are curled into a sly smirk, your phone dangling in your hand. Sangyeon’s eyes narrow at you, his arms crossed over his chest while he towers over you. Flashing red and blue lights surround the TBZ house, and most partygoers have scattered and disappeared into the night. He vaguely remembers seeing Sunwoo and his girlfriend taking off in his Toyota Corolla, Haknyeon getting dragged off by some girl he can’t be bothered to remember the name of. 
Of course, it was you who called the cops on him. It’s always you, ever since the two of you started the stupid bet at the beginning of the semester.
“It was,” he agrees, not wanting you to know he’s agitated. “It’ll be good for your sorority, no?”
Juyeon stands across the road from him, near the door of the frat house, chatting with a few officers. The other boys are scattered across the lawn, some watching Sangyeon’s interaction and some talking with each other. 
“Mhm, thanks for bringing us some guests, Sangie.” you chirp, spinning on your heel and beginning to walk to the street to your sleek black car. Your hips sway as you walk, your skirt rising up just a little bit and Sangyeon forces himself to look at the back of your head. He knows you’re doing that on purpose. You always do, ever since you started this rivalry. 
Keyword: you.
You were the one who almost ran him over on his first day of freshman year at IST University, yelling at him to get out of your way, that you were going to be late because he was a stupid frat boy who could never do anything right. Being hot doesn’t get you everywhere in life. It's ironic, isn’t it, considering that was how you’d been getting everything since that day.
You were the one who blew up at him at the very first frat party he’d ever hosted as a sophomore, claiming that he purposefully picked that night to host his frat’s biggest party ever. The same night that you were supposed to host your own party. You claimed he did it on purpose, to get back at you for freshman year.
It was you who’d started the bet in the first place. You who got so fed up with his know-it-all attitude, looking down at you all the time with that damn smirk of his. He thought he was everything— the king of the world. 
“Too bad the cops got called on you,” he calls out. His voice echoes in the area, over the distant whooping of college boys and the sound of police chatter and doors shutting. You whip around, stomping back over to him. The cop cars are beginning to pull away upon seeing a list of guests— all of whom were over 21. Sangyeon had been prepared for this, knew you would try something like this. 
“What did you just say?” You hiss out. Sangyeon can practically see the steam rolling out of your ears and cracks a grin.
“You didn’t hear?” Your eyebrows are knit together, and Sangyeon watches the blue and red lights flicker in your eyes. 
“Hear what, Lee Sangyeon?” you get closer to him, and he can smell the cheap perfume you wear every day. 
“Someone at your party narced as well. I heard it’s being shut down as we speak.” 
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“I don’t understand why you two hate each other so much,” Saebyeol picks at the corner of one of her textbook pages, watching you type an angry message to the frat president you claimed to hate so much. For the life of her, Saebyeol couldn’t figure out why you always seemed to be texting him. 
“It’s complicated,” you tell her and she rolls her eyes.
“Clearly.”
Your phone hits the mattress and you turn your scowl to her. She’s smart enough to not look at you, knowing better than to push your buttons too much. 
Everyone knew this. Everyone in your sorority, everyone in the TBZ frat, everyone who you shared classes with. You were the class pet, but you knew exactly how to get what you wanted from anyone and everyone you wanted. Some people called you a raging bitch, some called you a spitfire, and some admired you for not being afraid. 
Lee Sangyeon, though? He did none of those things and you hated him for it. You hated that he didn’t give you the time of day after nearly running him over, claiming that it was no big deal. Even from day one, you already held the firm belief that you were hot shit and you needed everyone to know that. Sangyeon gave you no response to…anything, really. You mocked him in classes, argued with him every chance you got, even called the fucking cops on his party but nothing got his attention. Nothing got you what you wanted. He hardly spared you a glance, always having an alternate solution to any problems you created for him. He would just send you that seductive smirk of his and—
Wait, no. 
Not seductive. 
Annoying. Yes. That annoyingly sexy stupid smirk of his. 
“Y/N.” Saebyeol snaps her fingers in front of your face and huffs at the dazed look in your eyes. “Thinking about your mortal enemy again?”
“Why would I be thinking of him?” You knit your eyebrows together and Saebyeol stares blankly for a moment.
“You’re— you’re kidding, right?” Saebyeol slides her textbook off her lap and scoots toward you on your bed. “Like, this is a joke?”
“Why would I be joking about this?” You fold your arms over your chest and your sorority sister huffs. 
“Y/N, my sweet sweet Y/N, you have done nothing but talk about Lee Sangyeon since day one of our college career,” Saebyeol says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s always Sangyeon this, Sangyeon that, Sangyeon did blah blah blah today and ugh I wanna slap that stupid smirk off his face.” She raises the pitch in her voice, openly mocking you and you can feel your cheeks beginning to heat up with embarrassment and frustration. 
“I do not sound like that. And I don’t always talk about him!”
“If you hadn’t told me so often that you hate his guts, I would think you want him to fuck you sideways into next Wednesday. In fact,” Saebyeol grins at you, “I think you really do want him to fuck you like that.” 
Now your cheeks are on fire, blazing red so bright that she can see it even behind the curtain of your hair. 
“I do not!” You practically shriek, but your sorority sister continues. 
“I’ve heard that he’s really good, just like all the other TBZ boys,” she sighs dramatically as if swooning over him. “Really big, too.” 
Your breath catches in your throat, and your mind is suddenly stuck on the image of him drilling into you for hours and hours. Until the sun comes up until you can’t feel your legs and you’re dripping a mix of his and your cum. 
“I don’t need to hear this right now,” you wave Saebyeol away. She purses her lips. “Get out, scram.”
“Alright,” she concedes, raising her hands in defense. “Don’t come crying to me when we have to attend his party and you guys end up fucking all night.” 
Your head snaps up.
“What do you mean we have to attend his party?” A wicked grin appears on Saebyeol’s face.
“Didn’t you hear? We lost the bet.”
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Sangyeon doesn’t expect to hear your shriek of his name and to see you barreling down the hall at 8AM on a Monday, steam once again pouring out of your ears. He doesn’t expect you to grab him by the collar of his shirt and half-drag-half-walk him into the nearest empty classroom and slam the door shut, shoving him against the wall immediately after. He won’t deny that he finds this side of you attractive, especially when you press up against him. 
“How did you do it,” you practically spit out. He arches one of his perfect eyebrows, a playful grin on his lips. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, princess.” A lie. Of course, Sangyeon knows what you’re talking about. It’s all his brothers had been raving about since the party that got shut down. 
“Don’t fucking call me that.” Your eyes are narrowed, but Sangyeon swears he sees another emotion in them. No, he tells himself, it couldn’t be. You would never. 
“Why not? Isn’t that what you are?” He sees it. The most subtle weight shift, the tiniest press of your thighs together. The shaky breath that you try to keep steady, but he knows you. Four years of debates, competitions, and arguments and he had never once seen your breathing unsteady. Wavered from lack of air, sure. He’d seen that one plenty of times. 
Unsteady, however? That was a whole different ball game that he could use to his advantage. 
Had you asked any of the Tau Beta Zeta boys or any student at IST Uni, they would tell you that this competition, this rivalry that you so vehemently claimed existed was entirely one-sided. Anyone could tell you that Sangyeon was just entertaining you, using it as a way to stay close to you in hopes that one day you would cave for him. 
Not for him to win. No, he couldn’t care less about winning (you’d never guess it from his winning streak). He cares about you. He’d wanted you desperately since day one, but he knew you hated everything about him. 
Or, at least, so you told everyone around you.
“I’m not,” you try to sound angry, to keep your voice rough, but every word that spills out of your mouth comes out in a whine that takes Sangyeon’s breath away. “Don’t call me that!”
“Are you sure?” He takes a step forward, and you’re forced to back up until he has you pressed against one of the rows of tables. “You don’t really seem to be putting up too much of a fight about that do you, princess?”
Your breathing hitches and Sangyeon cages you in with an arm on either side of the table behind you. His eyes bore into yours, and you catch the brief swipe of his tongue across his lip. Your eyes flick down, and then back up, and then Sangyeon’s lips are on yours. 
They’re softer than you thought they’d be (not that you’d thought about it). They’re soft, but he presses them against you with such fervor that you feel like the shape of them would be scorched into your skin. You try to keep pace with him, but his hand is in your hair, yanking on the strands to tilt your head back and you find yourself lost in a daze of pleasure. Sangyeon pulls back for just a few moments when your body shudders against his, a whimper forcing its way out of you. 
“You like that, don’t you?” He yanks on the strands again, your jaw dropping open and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “You dirty bitch.” His lips attach to the skin of your cheek, your jaw, your neck. You lift yourself onto the table, your hands all over him. You put them under his shirt, scraping at his back as he sucks dark marks into your skin that you know will take too much product to cover up. Your nails scrape at his back, digging into the muscles that you know good and well he’d worked hard for. The image of him in the gym, sweat dripping from his shirtless body presses to the front of your mind and you find yourself pushing the fabric up his torso.
Sangyeon doesn’t let you get a good look at his body, however. His hands come down on you, forcing you to lay back on the table. He drags you toward him, your hips sliding against his while he hovers over you. 
“So quiet now,” he hums. “What happened to that mouthy little princess from earlier?” 
“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, and to your complete surprise, he listens.
In your lust-filled daze, you reach your body up, connecting your spit-slicked lips once more. Sangyeon groans quietly, his hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you tight to him. Your back is arched, your neck pressed into an awkward angle but you don’t seem to care. Not when he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth with so much desperation you would think this was his last day to live. 
He raises you back up into a sitting position but finds that that isn’t quite enough for him and slides his hands under your butt to haul you off the table, walking twenty feet to press you against the wall instead. 
Your lips detach from his, slipping down to his neck to lick and suck and bite at the skin there. You aren’t gentle with each other, not now. Four years of pent-up…anger? Frustration? Hate? Sangyeon isn’t quite sure what to call it, and frankly neither are you, but it fuels the kisses you’re giving each other. It fuels him every time he changes your position. It fuels to grinding of his hips into yours and forcing little whines out of you. Your core pulses every time his bulge slides against you, and you swear you would let him kiss you like this for hours—
The door slams shut, and Sangyeon practically drops you to the ground. A boy is standing there, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging open as he stares at you and Sangyeon.
“Um,” the boy starts to speak but Sangyeon cuts him off, his eyes still boring into yours.
“Get the hell out, Eric.” The boy— Eric nods dumbly, starting for the door but you stop him. You’re suddenly all too aware of the position you were just in, of what exactly you just did and a numb feeling fills your stomach.
“It’s fine,” your voice is hoarse and Sangyeon turns his eyes back to you. They’re screaming at you, those eyes of his. Screaming at you to stay, to talk. “I’ve gotta go anyway.”
“Y/N—” Sangyeon starts but you cut him off. 
“Don’t.” Your voice shakes and so does your hand as you push him away from you. His face contorts for a moment, but you turn your back on him before anything else can be said. “Just…just stay away from me, Lee Sangyeon.”
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You wish the bet had never happened. You wish that Lee Sangyeon didn’t make an appearance in your life. 
You wish that he would stop staring at you as you help decorate his frat house. Which, by the way, isn’t as gross as you had imagined it to be. That’s not the point, though.
The point is that you’ve felt his eyes on you the entire time you’ve been there. You felt his eyes on you whenever you stopped to talk with one of the boys in the house, ask where something should go or what alcohol they want. 
“Sangyeon can’t take his eyes off you,” Hyunjae comments as you pass by with one of the last boxes. You freeze where you stand, your cheeks immediately beginning to flush a deep shade of scarlet. “Any idea why, Miss President?”
“No idea.” You tell him, but the nerves seep into your every word and you can’t help but wonder if you’d covered the marks on your neck well enough. You wondered if the scratches you’d dug into Sangyeon’s skin had been revealed to his brothers or if Eric had snitched. You doubt that he had, though, based on the glares that Sangyeon shoots toward him and the way he ducks his head and scurries off to do something far away from the two of you.
“I don’t think that’s true,” Hyunjae sing-songs and you roll your eyes. “You wanna know what I think?”
“Not really.”
“I think that you finally let loose a little bit and things got a little…frisky.” Hyunjae taps the side of his neck and your breathing hitches. So you didn’t cover them entirely. Shit.
“It’s a good thing I didn’t ask what you thought, then, right?” He grins at your statement and steps to the side so you can shove past him. 
“Hit it right on the nose, didn’t I?” He trails after you with his hands shoved into his pockets.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lee Hyunjae.” You tell him over your shoulder. “And stop following me around.”
“Why would I do that?” he counters. “It’s getting on Sangyeon’s nerves. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 
Isn’t it? Honestly, you weren’t so sure anymore. You could still feel his lips on yours, feel the way he burned the imprint of his lips into the column of your throat, feel the size of him as he ground his hips into you. 
“Usually, yes.” You smile, but it might be more of a grimace at this point. “I tend to get on his nerves.” 
Saebyeol eyes you from ten feet away, watching the way Hyunjae practically corners you in this conversation. You can see the curiosity burning in her gaze, but then your eyes turn to Sangyeon, and a swirl of heat pools in your gut. He looks pissed, but you can’t figure out why. What could he possibly be pissed about?
“I have a few ways we can piss him off,” Hyunjae leans toward you, and suddenly he’s being yanked back with a yelp. “What— dude what the fuck?” 
Sangyeon just scoffs. 
“Stay away from her, Hyunjae.” He says with a little sneer. The heat in your stomach is replaced with an uneasy churning. 
“I was just talking to her!” The younger man protests, but you can see the glint in his eyes. He’s enjoying every second of this confrontation. “Right, Y/N?”
“Didn’t particularly look like she was enjoying your conversation,” Sangyeon shrugs. 
“And you’d know that really well, wouldn’t you?”
You aren’t sure why you chose that moment to step in, but the way Sangyeon flinches at your statement makes you want to backtrack. For the first time in your life, you’re beginning to regret some of the things you’ve said to Sangyeon. 
For the first time in your life, when Sangyeon starts to walk away from you, you want to run after him. To apologize. To grovel at his feet and beg for forgiveness. 
You don’t. Instead, like always, you watch him walk away from you with a distraught look on your face. 
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“I can’t believe you’re willingly going to talk to him,” Saebyeol practically yells into your ear over the loud music. The party is loud. So loud, and packed with more people than you’d ever seen at KAT or TBZ parties. It very nearly deafens you, but tonight you’re on a mission. 
“What can I say,” you shrug. “It bothers me when he’s the one walking away ticked off. Plus, I need to have the last word without the emotional guilt” 
Sabyeol laughs loudly before tipping her cup back to empty the contents into her mouth. You’d wager that the contents are terrible considering that the “bartenders” of the night are Chanmi and Hayoung from your sorority. Those two are notorious for never being allowed on bartending duty at your parties after the Hennessy Incident of 2021. You’d been more than happy to let them bartend for this party, however, knowing that they’d make everyone so fucked up that it would be easy for you to convince them they never saw you and Sangyeon together. 
“You sure it doesn’t have anything to do with the way you came back to the house the other day looking like someone tried to eat you?” Saebyeol smirks and you scoff. 
“So everyone knows, then?”
“That you and Sangyeon made out in an empty classroom?” You nod. “Yeah. Eric told everybody.”
“Fantastic.” For a moment, you see sympathy on your sorority sister’s face. 
“Y/N, I promise you that wanting him is not as bad as you think. If it makes you feel better, one look at you and he’ll be crawling on the ground begging for just a taste.”
“It’s not even that, though!” You say and grimace at the last part of her statement, but she’s not listening. She’s focused on something behind you, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. “What? What are you staring at?” 
“I— turn—” she cuts herself off, grabbing you and whipping you around. She uses her other hand to grab your chin and point you exactly where she wants you to look and your stomach drops. 
“Holy shit.” 
Lee Sangyeon, in all his glory, is walking toward you with a determined look. And you…you feel that arousal from a few days ago coming back when you see him. It’s not as if he’s dressed in an overwhelmingly attractive way. A white baseball cap that shields his eyes, a black tank top with an unzipped leopard-print jacket over it, and some dark jeans paired with those old Converse of his. A chain that you’d never seen before (not that you’d been paying attention, that is) glittered under the lights that you had set up earlier that day. 
When he finally stops in front of you, every word that you’d planned on saying to him is swept out of your brain. 
“Y/N.” He says, and you half expect him to whip out that stupid smirk. Saebyeol pats you on the shoulder and slips away from you, pushing her way through the party to find someone to talk to. 
“Sangyeon,” you keep your voice curt and do your damn best to keep your gaze anywhere except on his eyes. 
“I think it’s time we had a little chat, don’t you?” you quirk an eyebrow.
“Do you now?” 
“Mhm.”
“And what would we possibly have to talk about?” You ask, already knowing the answer he’s going to give you. He laughs airily, taking a brief glance around the room before he reaches for you. You do your best to not flinch or react in any way when he pushes a strand of hair back over your shoulder. 
Unfortunately, you can’t stop the whine that bubbles out of you when he tightens his hand in your hair and yanks your face toward his. You mentally curse yourself for being into something like this, knowing that he’ll never let you hear the end of it if this goes too far. 
Sangyeon lowers his lips to your ear, speaking at a level that only you can hear over the noise surrounding you. 
“You know exactly what we need to talk about, pretty girl.”
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“Always got so much to say,” Sangyeon slams your body against the wall of what you assume is his bedroom as soon as the lock clicks into place. Your breathing is already wavered, your hands shaking as you clutch at his shirt, laving over the skin of his neck with your tongue and biting harshly to the point that you nearly draw blood. “Always have to get the last word until I get my hands on you, don’t you baby?” 
“Just shut the fuck up already,” You snap and Sangyeon scoffs. His hand slides around your body and he grabs a handful of your ass, pulling your hips against his while he lets you leave your marks. While he lets you have your fun. He has you exactly where he wants you, and both of you know it. 
“What about a safe word?” You glare up at him when he continues to press you with questions and quickly spit one out so you can go back to biting marking him.
He doesn’t know if you notice that he hasn’t kissed you yet, that he’s just been standing above you, rolling his hips into yours, and letting you practically eat his neck. He does know that you’re fumbling. You’re losing yourself, suddenly all too desperate to have him that your body is shaking. Sangyeon loves it.
“What would your sorority sisters say if they saw you like this, hm?” Sangyeon drags a hand up your spine and grabs your hair again, this time just tight enough to get your attention. You pull away from him, your lipstick smeared across your lips and cheek, and your eyes narrow into a dangerous glare. 
“It’s a good thing they aren’t here, then, isn’t it?” You shoot right back, pulling him down by the neck to crush your lips against his. The way you two are kissing is entirely different. He kisses you with an agitating slowness, smiling against your lips. You are kissing him like you’d been in the desert for a week and he was the first glass of water you’d seen since your escape. Your force your tongue into his mouth, licking and sucking at his own. It pisses you off how disinterested he seems to be when he was the one who wanted you to come up here with him. Was Sangyeon mocking you?
Anger swirls in your stomach and you shove Sangyeon back to the edge of his bed. He stares up at you with nothing but pure amusement while you strip him. He does absolutely nothing to help you. Not yet. He’s biding his time and you don’t even know it yet. 
Or, maybe, you do. Maybe you know exactly what’s going on in his mind as you begin to strip yourself of your own clothes, trying to gauge his reactions but he does nothing but stare at you with belittling amusement.
Sangyeon lets you push him down on his bed, leaning back on his elbows, and watches as you crawl over him with your cunt hovering barely a centimeter over his hardened member. That is the only acknowledgment you get that tells you he wants this just as much as you do. He feels the heat radiate off of it, and can feel your arousal beginning to slip down and create a puddle between the two of you. 
Not yet, he tells himself. But it’s getting harder and harder with every one of your movements.
You kiss your way down his body. Well, more like bite. 
“You really like biting me,” he comments, his voice mildly unsteady. “It’s kinda hot.”
“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?” You retort, letting your lips kiss the trail of hair leading to his pelvis. Sangyeon watches you lower your body to the floor, your small hands wrapping around his member and giving it a sharp tug. His throat closes as he fights back a groan. 
“You— fuck me,” His eyes roll into the back of his head and he trails off with a load groan when you suddenly wrap your lips around him. “Fuck, couldn’t you warn me?” 
You hum, the vibrations sending sparks down his cock and he sucks in a sharp breath. He can only watch as you begin to take him deeper and deeper, and he can feel his tip hit the back of your throat, can hear you starting to gag on him, but you don’t stop until you physically cannot breathe anymore. Until your nose is almost pressed against his pelvis. You stay there for a moment, your hand on his bare hip and digging your nails in to focus on something other than the fact that you are quite literally about to choke on his cock.
Then you swallow around him and Sangyeon’s body twitches. You pull your mouth off him and lick gently at his tip before you take him all the way down, as far as you can, and do it again. Sangyeon caves.
Now.
You practically fall backward at the rate Sangyeon moves. He slips out of your mouth, a string of spit loosely connecting you to his tip. He kicks you backward, his foot connecting with the back of your thigh and shoving you as far he can until he’s able to comfortably stand over you and you’re the one leaning on your elbows for support. 
“What the fuck was that?” You snap, trying to push yourself up but Sangyeon just kneels over you, shoving you down with one hand only to grab the back of your head with the other and hold you in place. “Lee Sangyeon, let me fucking go—”
“Too late for that, princess.” He coos, and he brushes his thumb of the hand in your hair across your cheekbone. “Open that pretty little mouth for me, will you?” You almost don’t listen to him, but a part of you knows that if you don’t, he won’t hesitate to tie you up and leave you here for anyone to find. 
Your mouth slowly drops open and for a moment, you think he’ll be gentle with you. For a brief, naive moment you believe that he won’t be rough. 
Those thoughts are gone when he suddenly thrusts into your waiting mouth, forcing you to take all of him. You immediately start gagging at the force of his thrusts, your hands clawing at his waist and scrambling for something to hold. He seems to have no problem, however, holding you in place with one hand. It’s so messy, an overwhelming amount of spit that forms in your mouth being the only lubricant he needs to punch into your throat. 
“Look at you,” He hisses out with half-lidded eyes. “Slobbering all over my big dick like the good little bitch that you are.” You try to whine, try to make some sort of noise but you’re having a hard enough time breathing with his erratic thrusting. Your jaw aches, straining against his girth and tears are gushing down your cheeks. Your lungs are burning, but you have no way of telling him to stop. “Fuck, feels so good around me baby.” 
Your thighs are rubbing together, and you manage to find it in you to slip a hand down to play with your clit, rubbing harsh circles into the little nub. Sangyeon sees this, and he lets out a breathless laugh. 
“Fucking slut,” he sneers, fucking your face harsher than he was before. He can feel himself getting closer every time you gag around him, every time you try to take a breath and choke on it. “Can’t even sit still while I’m fucking your face, huh? Have to be a little slut and touch yourself too?” 
You’re able to whine out this time, and the vibration makes him slow down enough for you to start sucking at him like a lollypop. You can’t move your head at all, not with the grip he has on your hair, but you’re able to give long, hard sucks and you’re able to swallow around him enough to draw loud moans out. Your body quivers under all of the sensations you’re feeling. The tears running down your cheeks, the massive dick that’s bruising the back of your throat, the spit running down your chin and dripping down to your chest, the feeling of your slender fingers pushing into your sopping wet cunt over and over again. 
It’s getting to be all too much for you, and thankfully it seems to be too much for Sangyeon too. 
Like he knew you were about to reach your peak (and he probably did with the way you were moaning like a mad woman around him), he rips his cock out of your mouth and lunges for your hand to pull it away. 
“Not a fucking chance,” he grinds out, his heavy eyes trained on the way you practically sob and beg for your release. 
“Was s’close,” you reach a hand up, brushing the back of his neck. He scoffs at your words. “Please, Sangie, please. Jus’ wanna cum! Jus’ wanna be ready for you!” His dick twitches, still hard and leaking precum from the release he’d forced himself to hold back from. 
“Such a thoughtful little bitch,” he coos and lets your hair slip from his fingertips. You whine, pawing at his leg as some sort of way to get him to be kind to you, just this once. “I’ll make you feel good, baby. Don’t worry, I promise.” Another sob from your mouth as Sangyeon slips three thick fingers into you without any warning, without prepping you at all for any of them. 
You moan in protest as he starts to thrust them in and out of you, but your back arches into him when he curls them and brushes ever so slightly against a spot inside of you that you didn’t even know was there. Your eyes have rolled into the back of your head, more drool spilling out the side of your mouth. 
Your orgasm catches back up to you quickly and your body shakes against Sangyeon, a wild moan escaping your bruised throat. He watches you with careful eyes and his tongue poking out of the corner of his lips. He works you through that first orgasm quickly, and you expect him to pull his fingers out and replace them with his dick.
He doesn’t. 
In fact, as the overstimulation starts to hit you and you try to push him away from you, he just smiles coyly. 
“Thought you wanted to cum, princess?” He pouts mockingly and you whine in protest. The sounds coming from your pussy are disgustingly wet, your arousal and cum spilling out of you in neverending waves. “Why are you asking me to stop? Don’t you wanna cum?”
“‘M sensitive,” you whine into his shoulder and he clicks his tongue. 
“Poor baby,” he runs his hand down your spine, pulling you up to sit in his lap while he pulls his fingers out of you. Your body sags in relief, but that doesn’t last long before he’s flipping you over to lay face down on the floor. 
“Need me to slow down?” His hand is on the back of your neck, forcing the upper half of your body to lay on the hardwood floor. It’s uncomfortable, but you don’t complain. Not to him. “Need me to stop for a minute? Give you time to rest?”
“Yes— I mean— Fuck, I meant no,” you gasp out and Sangyeon scoffs.
“It sounds to me like you’re confused, baby. So which is it? Do you need to stop or do you want me to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow? Until you’re lying on the floor dripping with my cum and just waiting for me to fuck one more load into this little pussy?” 
When you just whine and push your hips back into him, he knows he’s won. Knows he’s fucked the brat out of you and he hasn’t even stuck his dick in you yet. 
“Can’t believe you made me wait four years for this, princess,” Sangyeon presses his hand down on the center of your spine, forcing you to arch your back even more as he slides into you. 
“Fuck,” you hiss out with your words slightly slurred from being pressed into the ground, curling your fingers into your palm and digging your nails in. Your walls are fluttering around Sangyeon, contracting and expanding in weak attempts to open up and take all of him. “Why the fuck are you so big?” 
Sangyeon spits out a laugh, falling still with just over three-quarters of him inside of you. He has to take that breath, has to let himself slow down. If he doesn’t, he might cum without even being able to fuck you properly, and he can’t have that. 
“That might be the first compliment you’ve ever given me, princess.”
“I thought I told you to stop calling me that,” your voice breaks at the end when he shoves the rest of his length into you. “I fucking hate you, Lee Sangyeon.” 
“No you don’t,” he grins maliciously down at you, knowing that you won’t be able to see it. “You love me.”
At the moment, you can’t argue that. Not when he draws his hips back and slams them back in. You yelp when your body slides forward on his hardwood floor, trying to find purchase on something, anything around you, but Sangyeon doesn’t give you the chance. He sets the pace fast and hard, his grip on your waist being the only thing to keep you from falling completely to the ground. 
You don’t realize how warm your body has gotten until his grip starts slipping due to your combined sweat. Until his body is suddenly hunched over yours, his sweaty chest sliding against your back every time he ruts into you like a dog. He’s panting into your ear, letting out little grunts and groans every time you squeeze around him. You’re no better. In fact, you may be worse with the way you practically scream his name, little wails forced out of you every time he sheathes his length into you. 
“What a sight,” Sangyeon grunts out, pulling himself off you just enough to see your body in full again. His hair is damp, hanging over his face in sweaty strands. “The IST University Spitfire crumbling into pieces for the one person she swore never to touch. Isn’t that something?”
“Sh— shut—” you grind your teeth together, struggling to barely get a word out between every moan and whine and sob you emit. “Your— your fu—fucking mouth.”
“See, I would,” Sangyeon says and you feel him twitch inside of you. “But it’s just so much fun to see you like this.” 
Part of you wants to curse him. Part of you wants to shove him off you and give him a piece of your mind before leaving him to jack off like a high schooler. Unfortunately, the larger part of you that just wants him harder, faster deeper, more more more wins. 
He goes quiet after that, though, and the two of you are left in silence. The “silence”, in this case, being the sound of the party raging downstairs, the sensation of your knees scraping the ground and likely forming bruises, the gasping breaths that you take, the wet sound of his hips against yours, and the scandalous noises that you couldn’t be bothered to restrain. You couldn’t care less if you’re fueling his ego right now. Couldn’t care less that he’ll likely never let you live this down. You only care about the orgasm that’s slowly climbing and climbing and climbing. You know Sangyeon is close too. The build from him fucking your throat for god knows how long and then abruptly tearing his orgasm away from himself, the tightness of your walls around him. He has to be close to cumming. You know he is. 
Sangyeon nearly falters when you grab his free hand, your fingers shaking as they wrap around it and drag him toward your clit. He laughs in mocking disbelief.
“You want me to help you?” He asks and, in your naivety, you expect him to bend at your every whim just like everyone else. As if you’d forgotten the past four years in your fucked out state. 
“Please,” you drag out the e sounds, and Sangyeon clicks his tongue. 
“If you want me to help you, you’re gonna have to put in more effort than that, princess.” He snaps his hips into you, enjoying the way you cry out and scramble to stabilize your body again. “I’ve already made you cum once, and I’m about to do it again. If you want me to help you more than I am, you’re gonna have to beg for it.” 
You gnaw on your lower lip, fighting back more tears. As if that would do anything, anyway. Your makeup was already ruined— dark streaks of mascara dried into your cheeks, smeared lipstick on your chin, smudged eyeliner. Anyone who took one look at you would know exactly what happened. Didn’t matter if they were drunk or not. They’d know who did this to you.
“Please, Sangyeon,” you moan pitifully but you know that won’t be enough. “I’ll be so good, I promise. Please please please lemme cum, Sangyeon please.”
“You’ll be good?” He echoes you and laughs. “Little princess, you’ve been nothing but a little brat since the day we met. What makes you think I’m gonna believe you?” 
A hiccuped sob escapes you. “‘M sorry Sangie, I’m sorry! I pro—promise I’ll be good from now o—on. I’ll b—be good for you!”
“You will?” He asks, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see him smirking down at you. “You’ll be good for me?”
“Just for you! Just for you, Sangie! Please, please, please lemme cum! I promise I’ll be good!” 
“Okay, princess,” he says and swats your hand away from his. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”
The wail you let out when he picks up his pace again is desperate and carnal. His thumb rubs harshly at your clit, and the stimulation is just enough for you to be thrown over the edge again, your walls squeezing around his member so tightly he’s forced to slow down with a long, drawn-out groan. His body shudders above yours as you continue to pulse around him, forcing him closer and closer to his orgasm.
“D-don’t cum inside,” you manage to hiss out through the overwhelming pleasure. Sangyeon scoffs. 
“As if I’d wanna risk anything with you.” 
Sangyeon squeezes his eyes shut as he forces himself to pull away from you, already missing the warmth of your pussy when the air (cold in comparison) hits him. He wastes no time in wrapping his hand around his length, furiously pumping up and down as he draws closer and closer. You try to sit up, to turn around and watch, but Sangyeon forces you back down with a hand on the back of your neck (which you’re starting to think he has a thing for). 
You don’t put up a fight against him, knowing you don’t stand a damn chance with how exhausted you are. Instead, you opt to crane your neck as best you can, watching in awe (which you would never admit, amongst a handful of other things) as he tilts his head back and lets his jaw hang open, tongue prodding at the side of his mouth. You can only watch as warm ropes of white cum spurt from his tip, coating your ass and lower back. Part of you wants to reach back and swipe some of it, just for a little taste. 
When Sangyeon finally lets you up, you turn toward him with heavy eyes. For a moment, the two of you kneel there in front of each other, sweaty, covered in each other’s cum, and in some sort of daze. You watch his abs tense with every exhale, watch him brush a few strands of hair out of his face. Then you stand up, taking a few steps toward him on shaky legs, and tilt his head up to look at you in the eye. 
“Didn’t I tell you to stop talking?” Your hoarse voice comes out in a purr that’s steadier than either of you thought it would, and Sangyeon grins wildly at you.
“You really think you’re gonna have any control over me?” He slaps your hand away from his face, getting to his feet faster than you’d expected him to, and grabs you, his hands squeezing your cheeks. “You’re my bitch now, princess. No changing that. You said it yourself, didn’t you?”
“I said a lot of things, Lee Sangyeon.” You sneer, but it comes out muffled and Sangyeon rolls his eyes.
“Guess I didn’t fuck you hard enough if you’re still talking back, hm?” Your stomach drops, heat rolling in your stomach again. Sangyeon pushes you back toward the bed and that malicious grin returns. You’re starting to miss that smirk he always had on. 
“It’s fine. We have all night, anyway.”
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By the time Sangyeon’s had enough of you, by the time both of you are entirely worn out and satiated for the time being, the party downstairs has died down and you’re covered in bruises, aching all over. You didn’t bother to move when he brought a washcloth over and began to wipe you clean, removing any traces of his or your release. 
“Never thought you’d actually cave in.” He tells you when he finally lays down. You don’t look at him, choosing to lie face down with your face stuffed into the pillows. 
“I didn’t cave in,” you say, but even you know that’s a lie. “Maybe I just needed a good fuck before finals.”
“So you admit that I was a good fuck?” Sangyeon teases, sliding closer to you and ignoring the way you groan and try to kick him back. 
“Shut up already. I need to rest.” 
A fist hits the wall behind your head and you gasp loudly, sitting straight up when you hear Eric yelling from the room next door. 
“Is this some sort of revenge? WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME? WHY NOT HYUNJAE? WHY NOT SUNWOO? WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?”
Your eyes narrow at Sangyeon who just lays there laughing, one hand thrown over his eyes.
“You knew he went to sleep while we were fucking?”
“Of course I did,” he says through his laughter. Your lips try to twitch up but you force them back down. 
“You’re such an asshole.” You lay back down and let him drag you over to rest on his chest. 
“Yeah, but you love me.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Keep thinking that, pretty girl. I’ll convince you one of these days.”
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© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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moominsuki · 5 months
Text
✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — 4:58 pm
࿄ ! warnings — f!reader, suggestive, mentions of sex /. note i am sorry it’s been so long :/ but please appreciate this as an apology!
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“i think that’s it. guests should be coming some time within the next few hours so we can just sit back and relax until then,” you sigh, hands on hips and smiling at your boyfriend who collapses onto the couch.
“thank fuck,” grumbles bakugou, resting his legs on the coffee table and you gasp, stomping over to him and nudging his legs off with your own foot.
“i’ll have you know i spent all hours of yesterday and today cleaning that table up and i won’t have your grubby legs leaving marks. you’re free to lay down on the couch though,” you say indignantly and bakugou groans in annoyance, looking up at your furrowed brows and exaggerated angry face.
“a man can’t put his feet up in his own house? what has this world come to?” bakugou dramatises, leaned back with his arms folded and you roll your eyes, brushing and patting the blond’s head.
“it’ll be over before you know it, kats’” you hum, sitting besides bakugou and kissing his cheek, “plus, your parents have been dying to see the place. we won’t have to entertain anyone for a good few months after.”
bakugou peeks one eye open at you and you take the opportunity to kiss him again, this time on his pouty lips. bakugou grabs you by the waist, pulling you onto his lap and you half-squeal.
“a few months? more like a few years,” he contends.
you scoff, “i was being generous with saying months, baby.”
bakugou narrows his eyes and shrugs.
“i think i was bein’ pretty generous with sayin’ years too.”
you open your mouth to argue but bakugou’s hands delve under your flowy summer dress and he’s kissing at your neck.
“oh no you don’t, mister. not now-!” you scold, but it dies on your tongue when your boyfriend digs his teeth into your clavicle and his kisses become noisy and borderline erotic. and were your hips always grinding down on his slacks like that?
“this dress is doin’ things to me, pretty,” bakugou groans and his lips find yours again and you subconsciously place your hands on his face, pulling him in.
“i know orange is your favourite on me,” you breathe, and bakugou chuckles, heavy hands delving into your underwear and groping your ass.
“damn right it is. fuck, you’re irresistible.”
you whine when bakugou continues kissing over you, almost effectively shutting you up.
almost.
“no! katsuki, get off me before i punch you!” you yell and your pushes are half hearted at best and bakugou stops, raising a tentative brow while his hands still rest on your bare buttocks. his expression is heavy - eyes deep set and dark, lips puffy and cheeks warm with pale pink hues against his tanned face.
“one hour,” he proclaims and it’s your turn to give him a quizzical look.
“i’ll fuck you so good within the hour that you’ll never wanna host anybody else except for us.”
you should push your horny boyfriend off. you really should just wait until the guests get here and ignore him. this goes against your better judgement - betting using sexual conquest.
“i can’t stand you,” you mumble, your hands in his hair as you capture his lips in a passionate, wet kiss.
your boyfriend turns you to lay the both of you on the couch and he’s smirking, all too smug for your liking.
“you get anything on my dress and i’ll invite people over at least once a month.”
the smirk never drops from his face, for it only deepens.
“you wanna sit on my face first?”
needless to say, not a drop of cum was spilled onto your silk dress within the hour of your fun, although you had to solemnly explain to his mother why you weren’t hosting for christmas this year. still, that was much less embarrassing to explain than the wet stain on the couch, to which bakugou shrugs, covering over it with a throw pillow.
“better the couch an’ not your lovely dress, right?” says your boyfriend, lifting a glass bottle to his lips and his mother agrees endearingly. it doesn’t help the flashbacks of him hiking your dress clad leg over his shoulder and pushing it up your waist, not before nudging his mouth over yours.
your eyes meet bakugou’s bright and cheeky ones as he wraps an arm around your waist, acting nonchalant as ever. oh, you were so going to get him back for this.
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midnightarsenal · 6 months
Text
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬
Summary: A match with Brighton is interrupted by a pitch invader.
Pairing: Arsenal Women x Arsenal!Reader
Warning: Assault | Avoidance | Anxiety | Some Angst
Word Count: 4.6k
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Meadow Park, Borehamwood
///
"Y/L/N!" Katie yells from across the pitch and you waste little time in punting the ball over the heads of half a dozen players to her, leading to certified banger of a goal in the seconds that follow and making the score 2-0 in the 61st minute after Caitlin's screamer near the end of the first half. You sprint over to the Irishwoman and launch yourself onto her back, cheering ecstatically as the pair of you are swarmed by the rest of your team.
.....
You had been with the club for over a year now, one of several promising names signed to the Gunners in the summer of 2022, and while you hadn't yet been with the team long enough to cement your place in it as one of its icons, you hadn't needed a lot of time to make plenty of friends among its roster.
Prior to joining Arsenal, you had been Everton's star girl, having played with the Liverpudlian side for over four years before moving to North London in a change that had caused almost as much upset among the Blues fans as it had excitement in the Gooners. It had been a tough decision, but both you and your manager had known that you needed more room to develop your talent and that such room could only be found at a team that regularly fought at the top of the league.
Besides, it had been a far better choice than the alternative of moving to Liverpool. (You still couldn't believe they had been bold enough to even offer.)
Initially, you'd been worried by the prospect of moving both city and club, leaving behind the team you'd grown so close to and entering a new, unknown environment filled with some pretty impressive (and subsequently intimidating) talents. Generally, you were a very confident person and not someone who tended to doubt yourself, but even then, the idea of playing alongside the likes of Miedema and Williamson with reputations known far and wide was a little daunting for a player with a relatively lowkey profile.
But, despite that you had more than proven yourself in your first full season with the club, serving as a reliable forward and netting yourself a handful of goals in the process, even if you weren't a regular in the starting eleven. (You tried not to take it personally given that it was your first season, though your competitive streak made the task a little difficult at times.)
The girls had accepted you with open arms as one of their own, and any reservations you'd had about switching to Arsenal had all but vanished by the time international break had started and you'd gone off the World Cup down under. The teammates on either side of you today were more than just co-workers, they were your friends, and sometimes they even felt like family.
.....
"Alright, you've all done a very good job this half." Jonas starts approvingly as you and the rest of the girls gather round for a brief strategy talk, with Cloé sitting on the pitch not too far away being looked over by the medics. There (probably) isn't anything wrong with her, but it's a good excuse to get a quick chat with the coach in before the game continues. It's the 75th minute and Brighton has been putting on the pressure, propelled forward by an influx of their benched players and possibly some added desperation after Katie's goal.
"Jen, Kyra, Kat, we cannot get complacent now, we need to reassert control over the midfield and lessen the pressure on our defence. Remember, their number 10 loves to make those late runs, so mark her tightly." Your coach continues, his attention turned to the midfielders as he makes quick work of the review while Cloé gets back up to some applause from the crowd and limps towards you and the others, heading for the nearby bench with the team physio and a pair of medics by her side. Already, Lina is taking her jacket off to sub in just behind you.
The chat concludes and the game continues, having only been paused for around a minute and a half as you share a glance with some of the other girls while you all run back onto the pitch with haste. You aren't normally the type to feel as if the result has been decided before the final whistle blows, but you feel confident that you'll be walking away with a win tonight, content with another strong performance.
If only.
It's the 83rd minute when it happens, 8 minutes after your group chat and 7 until the match's conclusion. You're not doing anything when the first signs of a problem arise in the form of distant gasps and disapproving yells from the crowd, you're just standing there with your hands idly on your hips, walking slowly along the pitch and keeping track of the ball as it's passed around in the midfield, a sizable distance from where you are.
You aren't paying attention to what's behind you.
"Y/L/N!" You hear Katie yell again from some ways away, but this time there's something different in her tone that alerts you, there's an urgency in it that's uncharacteristic, one that makes you think something's wrong, and it doesn't take you long to find out what it is.
"Stupid cow!" Is what you hear slurred from behind you before a searing pain suddenly springs forth from the side of your head, the impact of something hard sending you stumbling to the side before you quickly lose your footing and tumble to the ground, the left half of your face hitting the grass with such momentum that it briefly bounces back up before dropping down again.
Your vision blurs for a second or two as you instinctively reach for the sides of your head to cradle it protectively, your legs lifting up until you're just short of a fetal position. You quickly understand that you've been hit by someone and brace for a second attack, one that fortunately doesn't come as you hear sounds of a scuffle nearby.
Your right temple pulses with hurt and you can't help but scrunch your face up, closing and opening your eyes in a rabid blink to try and adjust your sight and shake off the disorientation that has you locked in its grip. For a few moments you lose track of time, wrapped up in your own world of pain before you see someone kneel down in front of you and feel their hands cup over your cheeks, turning your head up to face them.
It's Beth.
"Jesus Christ, you alright?" She asks intensely, her face shaped by a mix of exasperation and concern as you feel someone else's hands slot under your armpits and sit you up, you feel a minor sense of relief at the fact you don't immediately become nauseous at the movement, and the world starts to filter back to high resolution as your disorientation dissipates.
"Yeah.. yeah, I'm alright." You finally find the strength to speak, frowning as you continue to rub at your right temple and look around, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. Your head still hurt, but not quite as bad now and you're sitting up, surrounded on all sides by a wall of red and white football kits, all belonging to women who's gazes were entirely focused on you and who all looked either worried sick, pissed off or both.
Behind them, you could only just see another gathering of bodies that was leaving the pitch. A sea of high-vis jackets, some emblazoned on their backs with 'Security' and others 'Police'.
"Fucking maniac." You hear one of the girls around you say, "How'd they let that happen?" Someone else asks to no one in particular, "Stupid dickhead, should throw him in the sea." A third voice suggests angrily and the accent leaves little room for candidates who's surname isn't McCabe.
You feel some of the girls pat you on the shoulder or rub your back, and Beth takes one of your hands in her own, hands disappearing from your face so they can help you stand up before the wall of Arsenal red parts to let in the team physio and doctor who quickly disapprove of the idea and sit you back down before you've even had the chance to get your bum off the grass.
A light is flashed in each of your eyes, causing you to wince, and you're bombarded with a series of questions that lead you to assume the pair are checking for a concussion. But- after what feels like forever, with the hairs on your skin standing up as you become increasingly aware of what a cold night it is now that the warmth from your exertion during the game has worn off- the two medical professionals get up from their crouched position and carefully help you stand up too.
The crowd cheers for the development and you let out a breath, shaking your head with a small, cynical smile as you were met with looks of sympathy from your teammates. The side of your head still hurt, but it had diminished to the point that you could probably ignore it, though it was still far from comfortable.
"Had to happen to me, eh?" You say to Beth, who can't help but let out a short breathy laugh.
"Maybe he's an Everton fan." Jen proposes and you laugh with a nod. "Left it a bit long, didn't he?" Steph replies with a feigned confusion.
You walk to the bench with the physio, doctor and Beth, with the rest of the team giving you a few more supportive words and pats on the back before heading back to their places on the pitch. It wasn't as if they were going to cancel the game over one rowdy wanker, after all, besides there was less than ten minutes left.
"Are you okay?" Jonas asks as you approach the Arsenal bench and you nod, being brought in for a quick hug before he adds, "That was totally unacceptable. We'll need to address it with the club. Get more security." He sounds angry, and not just with your assailant. You hadn't really had the time to process what had happened given how fast it had all been, but as you sit down at the team bench, receiving another warm reception from the girls there, the ones who'd been playing in the first half, you begin to get where he's coming from. How could that be allowed to happen? What if the guy had a weapon? What if-
"My girl." Your thoughts on what could have happened are interrupted by an unmistakable voice, Leah. Putting that Southern pronunciation on the word 'girl' that you loved so much, but sounding just as worried as everyone else who'd spoken to you did. The blonde wastes little time in leaning down to envelop you in a hug from where you sit, and you return it with a smile, letting out a breath you hadn't known you'd been holding in, and it coming out shaky much to your confusion. You felt fine.
"Good thing you weren't on the pitch, otherwise that prick probably wouldn't have left it." You joke with a small smile as the two of you pull apart and Amanda to your left budges up so Leah can sit down next to you, her brows furrowed in that steep arching frown she liked to do. The match in front of you continues as it had before. Alessia sits on your right, trying to be considerate by not unnecessarily intruding but occasionally giving you a side glance with a smile.
"Honestly, if they hadn't gotten to him first. Fucking wanker." Her blue eyes dart to the side, momentarily looking out to the pitch before returning to you. She reaches out an arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you close, you have no objection, and you can't resist the amused huff of air you let out at the thought of what Leah might have done if she had been there and had two properly working legs.
A small comfortable silence settles between you both until the defender asks, "You alright?" and you nod almost on instinct, giving her a smile. "Yeah. Head hurts a little, but I did just get punched." You joke, but Leah doesn't laugh, or even smile, instead penetrating you with those deep blue eyes. "I know that, dummy, they wouldn't sit you on the bench if you were hurt like that. I meant the other kind of alright."
You shrug and for the first time since you'd seen her, your eyes drift off to the pitch and you shift in your seat. Yeah, you were fine. But, the idea that you might not be didn't sit right with you, or rather, the idea that Leah and by extension the rest of the team might not think you are.
"You mean if I'm all... shaken up? Quaking in my boots?" You retort with some dry wit and a slight smirk, putting some faux dramatism on your words as you glance back to Leah for a moment before returning your eyes to the game. You felt fine, but the question seemed to stir something in you, applying a light pressure to your chest that wasn't there before. You didn't like it.
Leah didn't seem amused and you feel her stare boring into the side of your face, inspecting you almost. "Yeah." Is her short reply, as if she isn't looking to entertain your attempts at humour. As if she takes the incident more seriously than you do.
You shrug again and look over to the blonde with an expression that borders between nonchalance and indifference. "Then yeah, I'm all good in that department too. If fucking Jack Grealish can handle a punch then I think I'll be fine." That one seems to have some effect on Leah's stern, concerned demeanour and she gives a small smile, shaking her head slightly as if reprimanding herself for not knowing better to expect any other kind of answer from you.
But she tightens her arm around you just a bit regardless, pulling you in just a little more than you already were, even as she turns away to face the pitch as the game approaches the final whistle, her eyes lingering on you a little longer. "Alright.. but if that changes, you know I'm here, right?" She asks with a sincerity that makes you a little uncomfortable, partly because you'd always been a little awkward around more heartfelt exchanges of emotions, and partly because.. well you couldn't really figure out that other feeling, but it adds to that small pressure on your chest.
"Yeah, I know." You get out with a firmness, more to reassure the defender that you'd be willing to open up in that sense than anything else. You weren't sure if you ever would, even if your feelings did change. But, you were.. confident that they wouldn't. You felt fine, after all.
The final whistle blows not long after.
.....
The hum of fluorescent lights fill Meadow Park's comparatively humble locker room as the team trickles in, sweaty and exhausted from a relatively hard fought win. There's the usual post-match banter, the teasing, the recounting of the odd tackle and the two winning goals. But there's also a.. tension in the air, an undercurrent of concern and empathy directed toward one player in particular and unfortunately you're all too aware of it.
You take your usual spot by your locker, trying to blend in with the post-game routine as seamlessly as you can. You begin to unlace your boots, your fingers working with a rehearsed, mechanical precision. You didn't like it when people fussed over you, and you always tended to think that their attention was better spent or even better deserved elsewhere. You didn't really like being the centre of attention either, positive or negative. So, sitting here, and knowing that every now and then a different set of eyes would glance over at you, or that every second conversation featured you in some capacity, it wasn't a fun feeling, even if all of it derived from the most kind intentions.
You slip your cleats off and lean back against your locker as you sit in your cubby, looking up at the ceiling and releasing your second shaky breath of the night against your will. That pressure on your chest hasn't gone away and it's beginning to annoy you as you close your eyes and try to relax yourself, feeling oddly tense.
Between the chaos of the initial aftermath, your conversation with Leah and some of the banter you'd tried to get yourself involved with during the short walk to the locker room after their celebration, you hadn't really had the time (or the desire) to really think back to the incident or process it. It'd happened what? Thirty minutes ago? Yet, it already felt significantly longer.
Your hand reaches up absentmindedly to rub at your right temple as images flash one after the other of the experience. You on the ground, Beth kneeling in front of you and those two words that you hadn't even recalled until now. "Stupid cow." You scratch at your temple for a moment and open your eyes, shaking your head for a second or two as if to ward off the memory.
You let out another breath, and while this one isn't quite shaky, your breathing has gotten a little heavier.
Your hands clasp together and your fingers interlock as you idly rub your thumbs up and down the hand opposite to the one they each belong to. That pressure on your chest makes itself known a bit more and you swallow, your eyes surveying the locker room, not quite knowing what you're searching for but compelled to do it all the same. Why would someone do that? Why would a person just run out onto the pitch and hit a player? Hit you?
"Relax." You tell yourself.
It doesn't do much, and you have to put a hand down onto your knee to stop one of your legs from tapping itself up and down. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" You internally ask yourself. You felt fine. You had felt fine five minutes ago. You had felt fine after being punched in the side of the head. Why are you feeling like this now?
You shift in your cubby and take a deep breath (another shaky one, much to your frustration), trying to regain control of yourself. That fucking weight on your chest is still there.
"Y/N." You hear someone- Katie- say nearby, and you curse to yourself. "Yeah?" You ask with a slightly raised brow, trying to remain lowkey as you look to your left to see the forward standing not too far away next to her own cubby, shoving her boots into a large black duffel bag as she stares at you, most of the other girls are still in their own conversations. Thank God.
"You good?" She asks the question that you've become almost annoyingly familiar with in the past half hour and like before you nod impulsively. Though unlike then you're no longer quite so confident in the honesty of that natural response. "Yeah, all good. Why? Am I getting a bruise?" You say in an attempt to be light hearted, giving the brunette a small smile, but she only frowns back, causing you to swallow.
"Nah, just seemed like you were.. thinking 'bout something."
You break your stare and go back to what you're supposed to be doing, getting changed, leaving Katie unsatisfied as you find your own duffel bag next to you and begin putting your cleats into it. You begin to feel a slight burning at the bottom of your throat but try to ignore it, feeling the corners of your lips reactively curl downward even as you busy yourself with getting changed.
"Fucking idiot." You angrily say to yourself on the inside. "Stop being such a baby." You take off your Arsenal shirt and shove it into the bag with an unusual amount of force. That pressure on your chest grows heavier and your breathes with it. You aren't sure why you feel this way and you hate it. You've never felt like this before and you hate it. Why is this happening? You were fine before.
"Y/N." Your name is called again, only this time it's Leah, and she's standing right behind you, causing you to jump just slightly. Your heart beating a little quicker as you'd been facing your locker, back turned to the rest of the team. Katie must have gotten her.
You take your third shaky breath of the evening before responding with a falsely inquisitive, "Yeah?" as if you hadn't a clue what she'd want to talk to you about. You continue to face your locker, opening it up to take out your casualwear to give yourself a valid reason not to turn around.
"You wanna come with me? Need to talk." She says with a nonchalance that is deceptive. Ordinarily, if Leah needed to talk with someone, she wouldn't hesitate in using her regular old sternness to get the importance across. But, right now? Her tone was light and casual and you weren't an idiot. You know that she was treating this like some kind of sensitive situation when it wasn't. You'd gotten punched by some dickhead and that was it, end of story. It probably happened to a thousand people every day in Britain and you were no different.
"Yeah.. just lemme get dressed first." You reply, sliding on your trousers and feigning your own coolness and composure, though not nearly to the same effectiveness as Leah. Your breathing's still heavy and with each passing moment you begin to feel a growing sense of claustrophobia when you'd never suffered from that in the past. You want air. Maybe you need it. But, you can't let that show.
"Mind turning round, Y/N? It's bad manners not to look at someone when they're talking to you."
You won't let it show.
"Look, Leah. If this is about that dickhead again, I told you I'm all good." You retort dismissively, wanting to put the questioning to bed.
That pressure grows heavier.
"Well, I don't think you are."
Your heart beats faster.
"Oh, and what? You're in my head now are you?" Your frustration peaks through the façade.
Why are they still asking you about it?
"No. I just know when my friends aren't okay." Leah's concerned tone fades and she takes on a sterner one, a tough love one.
Why aren't you fine?
"Well you might want to get your radar checked because I'm fucking fine, Leah." Your brows furrow and you almost grit your teeth as that burning sensation creeps further up your throat. You shouldn't have sworn.
The rest of the locker room is becoming quieter.
"Then why won't you look at me?"
Everyone's looking at you.
"Because you're fucking bothering me!" You yell angrily. And if there had been any conversations left in the room, they cease instantly, cloaking the team in a deafening silence.
You swallow and it almost hurts your throat. You blink and your eyes have a wetness in them that wasn't there ten seconds ago. Your chest lifts and falls dramatically and your hands have a light tremor in them.
But, you were fine ten minutes ago.
You feel a pair of hands take you gently by your waist and you presume them to be Leah's, having that presumption confirmed quickly as the defender turns you around slowly to face her. You don't resist, but you feel almost ashamed as you're rotated to face the rest her and the rest of the girls. You can't even look any of them in the eye, with your eyes dropping to the ground and becoming fixated on your feet because it's easier than looking at anything else.
"You're okay, my girl. You're safe." Leah says, her sternness morphing seamlessly into an almost painfully sincere softness and care as you're pulled in slowly for another hug, though your arms hang almost limply by your sides. You don't know what to do, or what to say, but you feel a stinging in your eyes and a pain in your throat that's becoming more pronounced by the second.
You bury your head into Leah's shoulder because you know you're about to cry, and you feel a surge of intense shame at the realization. Your arms reach up and finally wrap themselves around Leah. You know the rest of the girls are watching you, and it's embarrassing, but you don't know what else to do. You don't feel safe.
"I don't know what the fuck's wrong with me." You finally let out into the blonde's shoulder, feeling the first tears roll down your cheeks. "I was okay and then.. this shit just came out of nowhere. I'm sorry."
Leah pulls away from you, but only slightly, one of her hands lifting your chin to level with her as she looks you dead in the eye, while her other hand reaches up to stroke your cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry about, understand? Nothing. No one thinks any less of you for this, Y/N."
You aren't entirely sure if that's true or not, but Leah, being the natural leader that she is, had a way of making people believe things or feel them even if they otherwise wouldn't. And you're not immune to that effect, nodding somewhat hesitantly in agreement, but nodding regardless as you feel that pressure on your chest lighten ever so slightly.
"The pitch should be a safe place for us and that dickhead tried to take it away." You hear Beth speak up, both to you but also to the rest of the room, with nods and murmurs of concurrence following throughout. Concern and heartbreak can easily turn to anger and a need for justice, and even in your frustratingly vulnerable state, you can see that change begin to take place in the confines of the locker room as the scene between you and Leah made it perfectly clear to everyone that you had been effected by that attack on more than just a physical level.
"Everyone's here for you, alright? Nothing like that is ever gonna happen again. Not to you, or anyone else in this game." Leah says, that steeply arched frown returning to her expression as a hint of determination reaches through her words.
She wipes away some of the tears that hadn't quite made their way down your cheeks and pulls you back into the hug, running her hand in circles along your back. "We're gonna make sure he regrets ever coming to this game." The Vice-Captain whispers into your ear with an intensity that almost makes you shiver, and in that moment, you find a piece of your confidence back.
You were confident that the girls had your back. You were confident that Leah would do whatever it took to get justice, and you were confident that one day that wanker would indeed regret ever even coming near you. But, most importantly, you were confident that you wouldn't allow him damage you, that you wouldn't allow him to have anymore significance in your life than a fucking footnote. Regardless of whatever happened next, revenge or not, justice or not. You were simply more valuable than that, and the girls would always help to remind you of that, even if sometimes it was hard to see.
Sometimes, your team felt like more than just a team, and tonight was one of those times.
///
End Notes: Hey, everyone! So this has been my first ever woso fic. I'm still trying to get to grips with pacing and getting some proper good angst, but I hope this is an enjoyable read and a good start!
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tteokdoroki · 2 years
Text
tw: breastfeeding, bad pregnancies n supportive bakugou cries
“what’re you doin’ down here?”
it’s the middle of the night; probably nearer to three in the morning when you catch your husband’s gruff voice before you see him emerge into the kitchen; the sharp edge of his handsomely matured jawline illuminated by the silver moonlight. smiling as he rubs sleep from his ruby encrusted eyes— you hold up a baby bottle mina had gifted you from the baby shower, filled with breast milk as you set a timer up on the warmer.
“your son was hungry again,” you hum, placing the bottle back into the warmer, smiling as warm and familiar arms wrap around your waist and calloused fingers trace the c-section scar. “he wouldn’t latch so i figured we’d try a bottle tonight.”
bakugou makes a noise of disapproval in his throat, squeezing you close to his chest as if to cushion you— protect you. “y’shoulda come ‘n got me, need all the rest you can get feedin’ a hungry tike like that all day,” he rasps into the shell of your ear, swaying your bodies to the quiet tick of the one minute timer on your baby bottle warmer. “we agreed t’split feeding, r’member?”
your husband is warm, like a comforting hug or the safest place to be in the world— and if you’re not careful, you might fall asleep standing up. “i didn’t know you were awake kats, besides you just came back from a long mission and—“
“firstly.. had to put the little princess back t’bed, she wanted to know how her parents met.” bakugou grunts, spinning you softly in his arms— fingers brushing over your wedding ring, his forehead practically plastered to yours. “secondly, none of that, we’re a fuckin’ team, we do this shit together,”
maybe it’s the left over hormones tingling through your body; the exhaustion of being a mother to two of the country’s most adored children and the wife of a top pro hero… but you feel yourself curl in on katsuki, feel your body flood with relief knowing that you can always count on him no matter what you both go through.
the timer on the bottle warmer ticks with the indication that your son’s late night meal is ready— and before you can reach for it, bakugou has your eyes on his once again. tired with age and becoming new parents for the second time, the stress of your son’s difficult pregnancy and labour evident in the crease between his brows despite you both being closer to the start of your careers than retiring, but masked by the love in his eyes.
he picks it up, kissing your forehead as he goes— guiding you back up to the first floor of the home you built together, where you part ways at the landing. bakugou to the nursery and you back to the comfort of your bed.
“get some rest,” katsuki tells you, sleepy but warmly. “don’ wait up for me, kay?”
you know that your hungry four month old son is in good hands, that your three year old daughter is sleeping safe and soundly— but something in your heart tells you that you can’t truly rest until the last bakugou is tucked into your arms tonight.
“no promises,” you say wistfully, grateful to your husband and your children— counting your blessings too.
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jake-webber · 2 months
Text
SOBER (NOT) | COLBY BROCK
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ANON: “drunk moments with colby brock (got inspired by kat’s old drunk streamss) platonic and maybe male reader?”
PAIRING colby brock x platonic!male!reader
BEFORE READING i love the drunk streams i watch them whenever i wanna feel something. also, love this req despite having the hardest time to write this lmao, kat and sam r still together here (let me be delusional),
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It was around 3 hours in Kat’s livestream did you start feeling yourself loosening up from the immense amount of alcohol you’ve down – you couldn’t name them even if you wanted to – but it seemed you’re not the only one, despite how many times he’s been denying it the whole stream.
“Chat, can we make another poll for who’s the drunkest? Cuz I’m sure Colby’s the drunkest.” Kat said to her chat with a cheeky grin on her face. You chuckled to yourself when you see Colby ripping his attention off of his phone to react.
The said boy gasped, “I am not!” He exclaimed. “You’re telling me I’m the drunkest when this guy is right here.” Colby pointed his finger towards your declining posture from your sit behind Kat.
You turn to look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Hey, it’s rude to point, you bitch.” You lean towards Colby with a finger jabbing on his chest. “You’re literally so loud right now and you’re only this loud when you’re shitfaced drunk.”
“I’m always this loud!” He yelled, a vein popping out from his neck. Sam looked at the camera in disbelief. “Dude, you gotta calm down.” He said, making you and Kat laugh.
The argument eventually dies down a bit as Kat continues to talk with her chat. You can’t remember what you were doing before Colby had his hand wrapped around your neck and one arm around your torso.
“What the fuck are you doing? Let go of meee…” You tried to get away from him by pushing him off with all your strength, but that only resulted for him to tighten his grip even further, though not enough for you to feel pain, thankfully.
“Not until you admit you’re the drunkest.” Colby whispered into your ear, a mischievous smile on his lips.
“You’re still on that?”
“I never left, baby.”
“That just confirms the fact that you are drunk, if not, the drunkest.” Your drunk self decided it was a good idea to tease him, knowing full well how to push Drunk Colby’s buttons, which didn’t really help you to get out of the your current situation.
It seems to work though when you see him puff his cheeks out of annoyance, pulling you closer to him, a bit rougher this time. It caught the attention of Sam first who only watched the scene. You didn’t do anything to fight back at first, humoring Colby, and allowed him do whatever he’s doing before you feel yourself getting lifted off of your sit.
“Dude, what are you doing!?” You screeched, a very manly one, as he Colby placed you on his lap in attempt to give himself better grip to practically cut the air from your lungs.
“Colby! Holy sh- Get away from me!” You screamed one more time when he threatened to make you fall by moving his legs apart.
“I am not letting go.” He simply said with a chuckle, eyes back to the camera as if he wasn’t practically holding you hostage.
Instead of helping you out, Kat only laughed as Sam went back to drinking with a shrug. She moved her chair to let the chat see what Colby is doing to you. “I guess the poll was right, you guys?”
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A few hours into the stream, more people joined and kept the chat occupied, leaving you and Colby in your own world at the corner.
“I want to pee so bad.” You finally looked over to Colby after fulfilling your promise of ignoring him for a whole 15 minutes, eyebrows raised at the information. “I think my dick’s going to fall off if I move.” He winced in pain, holding on to his thighs.
If you weren’t as drunk as Colby right now, you would’ve told him to just go to the bathroom, but his words reminded you of your own bladder too. “Fuck, me too.”
“Will you hold on to mine if I hold on to yours?” He suddenly asked out of nowhere.
“Dude, no. You have hands.” You replied almost immediately, grossed out of the idea.
“But I’d be holding yours–“
“Why would you be holding my dick?!” Too engrossed into the conversation, you failed to kept your volume to yourself causing a chorus of ‘woahs’ and ‘whats’ from your friends.
Sam, being the closest to the two of you from his seat, turned around to face you both. “Do you guys want to share anything with the class right now?”
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You had excused yourself from the group to freshen up when Colby followed along. The closest bathroom was his so you entered his room without another word.
“Really making yourself at home, aren’t you?” He commented from behind you before walking past to slump on his bed.
You entered the bathroom, leaving the door open, as you answered. “Don’t act like I’m the only doing this to someone else’s room.”
Colby took a minute to answer, giving you the time to wash your face, “You have the comfiest bed in the whole house though.”
After drying yourself off, making you a bit sober from the cold, you entered back to the bedroom and saw him on his phone. “We have the same mattress, Colby.”
“It’s different.”
“Not really.”
You sat beside him on his silk sheets, pushing him to the middle of the bed and made yourself a bit comfortable. Though the shoes you had weren’t exactly fit for lying down.
You looked over at Colby, “You going back to the stream?”
This seemed to catch the boy’s reaction, making him stop his scrolling on his phone. “How many hours does Kat have?”
“Like, 10 hours still.”
Colby groaned, lazily throwing his phone on the pillows, sinking further down on the bed. “God, no. Are you?” He eyed you from his spot as you think. “Can Kat even do the 10 hours?” He added.
You chuckled, knowing full well Kat doesn’t have the sleep schedule that’ll let her stay up that long. “Yeah, I’ll just text her I’m tired.”
“Tell her for me too.” Colby squeezed himself to your side, looking at your phone as you began typing your message. He leaned back over your shoulder. “Take a picture of me with my eyes closed.”
“With your glasses on?” You said with an amused chuckle, opening your camera.
“It adds to it.”
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sweet-honey-tears · 1 year
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If They Where Dads
Fluff head cannons! 🤍
Gender neutral reader. Kinda sounds like reader gave births but I kinda figured it’s either adoption or a quirk that can combine dna. Idk.
Feel free to leave request for other characters!
Daycare pick up head cannon
Aged up of course!!
💥Katsuki Bakugou💥
“She's beautiful”
“Daddy’s gonna buy you the fucking world.”
Big red eyes stared back as tiny hands gripped scared calloused fingers.
He would teach his kids sign language incase he ever does lose his hearing.
Is the type of dad that just carries the baby because fuck the stroller and shit- he’s a walking one that can also rock the little monster to sleep.
Will call the baby ‘Mini SpitFire’ and ‘Adorable Monster’(better than dumbass)
Will sign his daughter(and future kid- aka his baby boy) up for karate
And if his kid doesn’t have a quirk, he’s going to sign them up for a bunch of self-defense classes. He wants to protect them from people like him growing up.
Your phone Lock Screen is a picture of your toddler mid-sprint to the door as Katsuki is crouched with arms wide open. He had just gotten off a patrol, his hair mused and masked pushed up. His gauntlets pushed to the side. His face was dirty and stained. But his smile was huge and little tears are in his eyes from seeing his little mini spitfire come running to him.
“Don’t post that”
“But Kat-“
“No”
Can't let the public know king explosion murder is a big old softy. No, that is only for his family.
🦈Eijiro Kirishima🦈
Dude freaked out when he found out it’s gonna be twins- girls a matter of fact’ As babies, he’d put them in little shark onesies and then put on his own.
Your Lock Screen is a picture of your two beautiful twin girls in these little onesies and your Home Screen is Pro Hero Red Riot in a large Great White Shark onesie holding his two lovely(in shark onesies) twin girls in each of his arms. A big, proud, sharp smile stretched on his face.
He is the kind of dad to strap one of the girls to his chest, the other girl you have strapped to yours. There is totally a picture on the fridge of you two like that.
Would call his girls:
“Little riot, stop pulling your sister's hair!”
“Sharky, you shouldn’t be up there!”
The girls will call you Mama Papa, or Sharky Shark. (So- MommaShark! SharkyShary or ShaSha!) They call Kiri Daddy Shark.
The girls have shark plushies, cat ones, and so many plushies! One of the girls’ favorites, when they were toddlers, was a Red Riot plush. They’d hold it so damn tight whenever Kiri had to leave on a long mission.
They call the Bakuquad the following when they are very young:
Uncle Bak-uh-dough
Unky Serooooo
Aunty Mina
Unk Donkey or Denks (purely because Denki will make a goofy face when they say it)
Also, I think Testu would still pop by and the girl would call him Test.
⚡️Denki⚡️
Would freak the fuck out when he finds out but also be so excited
Will call the baby “Sparky!” And bakugou will say it sounds like you're calling a dog-
⚡️“ but you use to call me stuff like that-“
“Yeah I know”
⚡️“ but you said it sounds like a dog-“
“Yup”
Bakuogou felt a light hit to the back of his head. You walk past him while holding your/Denki’s baby. He just laughs. What? You’d think he’d do or say something to a woman holding a baby. Fuck no.
There’s a picture on your phone of Denki holding your baby, who is fast asleep, with rubber gloves on his hands. He’s being incredibly careful now. Wearing rubber gloves to ensure he never accidentally sparks the baby. He keeps getting excited every time he sees you two. That’s your Home Screen FWI.
The baby does have a Pikachu onesie. And a hat with the ear sticking up. As well as a Pokeball pillow(Mina got them for Christmas)
I feel like Shinso stops over a lot too. Like these guys are really good friends in the future.
“Uncle Shin!”
“Hey there Spark” he would totally gift the baby little cat stuffed animals and cat hairpins.
▪️🔸Sero🔸▪️
Sero would be surprised but stay chill.
Sero would call his baby girl:
“Hermosa (beautiful) you gotta wake up. We have to get ready for school”
Would teach his daughter Spanish(assuming you also know it too)
The girl's room is decorated with plants and cute food tapestries. There would definitely be one of those egg nest swings in the room(the ones above ground and hanging from the wall). He would hold the baby and rock them to sleep in it.
I feel like the baby would have a really cute, soft, cartoon ‘spider’ plush. But it’s not even really a spider- but a blob with a ‘:3’ face and eight legs. Totally has cat ears. Sero found it one day and was like ‘yup, that’s coming home’.
You couldn’t stop laughing when you saw it, you frickin love it.
Sero brings home the cutest but most random stuffed animals and toys. Ones that are just funny and adorable but make no fucking sense.
At an older age, Sero would definitely play with his daughter via his quirk. Your lock Screen is a picture of your daughter hanging upside down, her ‘spider’ plush hanging in her hand.
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kitthepurplepotato · 6 months
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Chapter 9 - A bubbly experience 🫧
Summary: Katsuki acts like a good fucking husband. That’s the summary.
Warnings: swear words, Reader and Katsuki are sharing a bath naked, mentions of being aroused but no smut at all. They only kiss. Pinky promise.
16+ but let’s make it 18+ for safety.
First Chapter Master List
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Ahh. The sun is up already. You really fucking hate existing right now. Being in this condition is already bad enough, but the mornings are the worst of it all; waking up feels like coming back from hell after going through 300 different kinds of torture.
“Just end my suffering.” You mumble to yourself, completely forgetting that you are not alone.
“It’s five fucking AM, shut the fuck up.” Comes the sweet answer from your side; Katsuki’s hair tickles the back of your neck as he snuggles into you as much as he can, probably trying to cancel out the light and the noise at the same time. His arms tighten around your middle possessively, pulling you as close as humanly possible, absolutely ignoring the fact that there are some parts of him that you weren’t completely ready to feel at “five fucking AM” in the morning as Katsuki would say. “You need somethin’? Water? Toilet? Anythin’?” He mumbles after his mind caught up with the situation. People can say whatever they want about Katsuki being a terrible boyfriend material, but those people don’t fucking see him all soft and mushy and caring and affectionate….
“Nah, I have everything I need right here.” You stroke his hands sitting on your belly with a lovesick smile on your face.
“That was so fucking cheesy.” Katsuki GIGGLES and takes a deep breath, his nose deep in your hair. “You smell like shit.” He snorts, but you can feel that he’s still smiling.
“Stop smelling me then, weirdo.”
“Nah, I love it.” Katsuki grins. Your heart skips a beat.
Honestly. This man is something else. You kinda want to go on a gossip site and leave an anonymous message about Dynamight’s soft side. The fan girls would eat that shit up for sure.
“You will be the death of me.” You mumble into your sheets with a red face.
“I’m literally keeping you alive right now.” Katsuki retorts proudly. “Now shut up and sleep, I’m not ready for this shit.”
“What shit?” You ask, confused.
“Living.”
Fair deal.
Early morning conversations with Katsuki are certainly your new favorite things in the whole world.
~•💥•~
“Wake up, you lazy shit.” Katsuki grumbles, clearly annoyed. The lovely scent of freshly brewed coffee hits your nose and that’s enough for you to have the energy to open your eyes and lean towards the lovely scent; you kinda resemble those dogs smelling bacon while they sleep in those funny videos on YouTube but you can’t be bothered to be ashamed of yourself right now; being in this condition is already enough of an embarrassment anyway. “I brought your breakfast in today but I hate when people eat in bed so this is the last time, got it?”
“Yes, boss!” You take the coffee from Katsuki’s hands automatically, but he takes it away with a disappointed look on his face.
“Did you really forget why I’m bringing you breakfast to bed?”
“Because you love me?” You answer self-deprecatingly.
Katsuki only sighs.
“What’s the time?” He mumbles. Well, that’s a really stupid question to ask right now, but okay; you reach towards the nightstand to check your phone. Surprisingly, the device stays in your hand for quite a long time before your arms give in and the phone falls into your lap.
“Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that for a second.”
You are such an idiot sometimes, honestly. Being in love really makes you stupid.
“How are you feelin’?” Katsuki mumbles as he slowly sits down next to you with the tray of food. It looks phenomenal, just like everything Katsuki makes.
“You worry too much, Kats.” You smile at the hero but he only rolls his eyes at that.
“I ain’t worried, you would even survive the fucking plague. I just don’t want a coffee stain on my mattress, that’s all.”
“Sure.” You giggle to yourself while Katsuki slowly feeds you the pancakes even thought you are quite sure your arms work just enough to take the fork and feed yourself, even if it would be a bit slow.
For some weird reason, Katsuki looks content. He cuts the pancake into small pieces, prolonging the whole thing like he wants to enjoy this for longer than it’s needed, he tilts the coffee mug gently and slowly as he lets you drink the super sweet caramel coffee he made just for you and when the food is gone he makes sure there isn’t a single stain on your face by wiping your lips with a napkin but the touch feels so gentle, it feels like a caress; Katsuki acts the opposite of his usual self but somehow, it feels more genuine than his angry grumbles. After breakfast, Katsuki asks you to stay in bed while cleans up the mess; he comes back a few minutes later, his face determined; whatever he’s about to say the only acceptable answer is YES.
To be fair, that’s fine. It’s not like there is anything you wouldn’t do for this man…
“Your smelly ass is gonna have a bath and I’ll help.”
… Nevermind. Scratch that.
“Fuck no.”
Wait, wait, wait. You haven’t even seen each other naked yet. You haven’t even… well… you haven’t done the deed or anything like that, the most intimate thing between you two was when you touched the hem of his boxers at his parent’s house and he absolutely hated it. You are still not completely over the fact that he hated it, by the way. You understand why, but it still hurts like a bitch! There is no way you can get naked in front of him and…
“Fuck yes.” Katsuki retorts. “The bath is ready and it’s super bubbly, so I won’t see shit. Come on.”
The blonde acts like a stubborn dad, his arms already under your armpits to pull you up.
“Katsuki, put me down, I need a moment.” You yelp as he puts you on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, barely listening to your anxious retorts.
“The more you think about it the worst it’s gonna be. Let’s get over with this. You trust me, don’t you?”
That was a fucking low-blow. Emotional manipulation, that is. Fuck’s sake.
You know you are freaking out over nothing; you are both adults and both heroes, full of scars that will never fade. He knows how you look like under all the oversized clothing; fuck, Katsuki have kissed most of your scars in his room right before you two made your way to meet Katsuki’s parents. It’s just…
This is not how you wanted him to see you for the first time. You are not a romantic person and you definitely had a hunch Katsuki isn’t either so you kinda imagined your first time to happen out of the blue, hands wondering a bit too far, unable to stop and then things just happen… you thought the first time he sees you naked will be the time you two decide to take the next step; when you are too busy and too excited to really take in the sight. Somehow, this whole situation makes you feel so fragile and insecure, it actually clouds your mind enough you almost make the blonde stumble as you reach out for the door frame to make him stop.
Coming here was a mistake. A big fucking one at that.
Katsuki sighs but he doesn’t let go yet; he strokes your back soothingly, silent for a moment then slowly takes a step forward until your arms give in and hands falls, your whole body giving in to the fatigue. A sweet scent fills your lungs when you take a deep breath; cinnamon, caramelized sugar with a citrusy undertone; it smells like Katsuki but not really; the scent is more fresh than Katsuki’s usual scent and it’s much stronger.
“If you really don’t want to, I’ll put you back to bed.” Katsuki’s confidence clearly wavers as he puts you down on the toilet seat. He hands you your toothbrush, not even trying to force you to do anything anymore; the guy looks heartbroken to be honest, and you absolutely hate seeing him like this and you hate the fact that YOU made him feel like this even more. You quickly wash your teeth while Katsuki stands by the door, clearly in his own little world, probably deciding between leaving or staying. He takes one step forward and one step back, just how he did yesterday when he wasn’t sure if sleeping together was okay or not.
For you, it was so obvious that it’s okay yet he still managed to waver and overthink the whole situation; Bakugou Katsuki might look like an over-confident asshole but deep inside he’s just as uncertain as you are.
You spit out the toothpaste and Katsuki appears by your side right away; he takes the toothbrush from you, cleans your mess up without a single retort and he’s just about to leave the room when your mind finally clears out enough to see how stupid you are being right now.
“Can you stay? I want you to stay.” You mumble into the awkward silence; your cheeks feel burning hot so you are quite sure your whole face is as red as a tomato, but it doesn’t really matter right now. “I want to try and get in alone. I feel like I’m not as weak as I thought I’ll be, which is a good sign but I want to be sure. Will you catch me if I fall?”
“Of course, you idiot.” Katsuki mumbles but he doesn’t roll his eyes this time. He turns away and closes his eyes, probably listening to his surroundings so he can catch you without even looking; his face is determined like he’s about to fight the final boss blind and seeing him like this makes you feel so many things at once; adoration, gratitude, pure love and trust towards the person who’s willing to do all of this for his girlfriend of a few weeks without a single nasty retort. Bakugou Katsuki is not a person who wills to shape himself to fit anyone’s expectations, not even All Might’s, yet here he is, soft and pliant, only an arms length away, listening, understating and trying his best to do what makes you feel the most comfortable in this fucked up situation. You are sure this is not how he wanted this to go either; he also had to have his own daydreams about the day you two tear down another wall between you, but he doesn’t complain, doesn’t say a word, just goes with the flow and let’s you take over, even if it kills him inside.
If you didn’t know Katsuki’s words were true before, you definitely know the truth now; he wouldn’t do any of this if he wouldn’t love you as much as you love him. The realization hits you like a truck and butterflies erupt in your chest as you slowly take your shirt off, then your pajama pants until you shakily stand, completely naked, right next to the bath tub. You sit down on the rim, take in the sight of the thick layer of bubbles, one of your hands playing around with them while the other hides your breasts. You take another deep breath and move your leg into the tub, followed by the other; the bath is a little too hot but at least it burns away the remaining of your anxiety.
“Fuck, I made it in. Alone. On the first day.” You mumble excitedly while you try to make a little wall in front you with the bubbles in the bath. “This is huge, Katsuki. I might be able to be a hero again.” You don’t even realize you started crying in the middle of your sentence until Katsuki mumbles “fuck” under his nose and makes his way to sit on the side of the bathtub with you. He leans in to put your foreheads together and takes a deep breath; the action makes you blush like a teenage schoolgirl, way too aware of the fact that you are laying in a massive bathtub, naked.
“I told you, you are a fucking tank. You’ll kick your weakness in the ass and come back twice as strong. I fucking knew it. Fuck, I’m so proud of you.”
There are butterflies everywhere now; in your chest, in your tummy, in your heart, right in the middle; Katsuki’s natural scent fits so perfectly with the scent of the bubble bath, sweet but spicy; you are rendered utterly speechless when Katsuki moves away just so he can look into your eyes, his gaze deep and so-so fond it makes your stomach squirm. You swear your heart explodes under the pressure and puts itself back together at the same time when Katsuki leans back in to leave an agonizingly slow and deep kiss on your lips while he pushes his shirt up and pulls it through his head in one swift move, not even giving you enough time to understand the situation before he barges back in for another one. He still fiddles with something but you are too content to let your mind wander about what the heck is happening; in the next few seconds, something heavy plops into the bath tub, right next to you. You open your eyes and your breath hitches; Katsuki is in his underwear, his legs already in the water, slowly moving towards your other side until he sits down right next to you, skin touching skin when he snakes his arms around your middle. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, leaving a few chaste kisses there, his body tense and anxious but he doesn’t give in to the tension; he takes a deep breath and tries to relax, but he’s clearly not as chill about this as he tries to make it look like.
“I heard that having a bath together helps people who struggle with the whole intimacy thing. I thought I might try it. Should have asked first though.” He mutters into your neck apologetically.
“You don’t need to ask.” You answer with a heavy blush. “Can I put my arm behind you? Is that okay?”
Katsuki squirms for a second but he takes another deep breath to relax himself.
“Yeah. I think I’m ready.” He says and you can’t help but giggle at that.
“Katsuki, you make it sound like I’m asking you to let me pinch your nipples! You are doing okay. You are okay. You can also say no. It’s fine.”
Katsuki’s face contorts into a frown and you start to get a bit anxious about his behavior; maybe this was a bit too much for him, maybe you should just ask him to leave and have a breather… he’s done so well already there is no reason to push himself.
“Can I.. clean you up instead? I want to wash your back. I think.” He mutters shyly. Bakugou Katsuki is being shy. Oh damn, what did you do to deserve this shit?! You nod silently, not wanting to ruin the intimate mood; Katsuki takes a brand new bottle of shower gel in his hand which has his own logo on the front and pours some into a shower puff. “I made this deal with this cool natural cosmetic shop from England. They wanted to do a collab with the top 10 heroes. This is the first prototype.” He mutters under his nose and slowly leans forward with the puff in his hands. “Deku made a bath bomb and the shower gel, they smell like pine and something sweet. It’s quite weird but whatever. Todoroki couldn’t decide what scent to go for so he has two shower gels, one peppermint and one spicy one. The spicy one is really nice.”
You are not sure if you are supposed to say anything or not; it seems like Katsuki is mostly muttering to himself, probably trying to calm down by filling the silence with random words so the situation doesn’t feel that intimate. Katsuki is struggling but the more he moves the puff around, the more content he gets. He stops abruptly when he gets to your breasts; he stops right where the skin starts to bounce and stays there, frozen. Instead of words, you decide to give him consent with an action; your hand comes up to cover his, slowly moving his hands around your chest while you leave tiny kisses on his shoulders to reassure him.
“I… well… My shower gel…” Katsuki stutters, his eyes big as saucers. If this wouldn’t be so hard for him you would definitely make a virgin joke. “Do you remember when you said you like the smell of my pillow?” Katsuki’s hand moves down to your belly.
“Yeah.” You sigh, trying your best not to get too excited from his touches. It’s not going well.
“I told them I want my shower gel to smell like my sweat. It sounds disgusting now that I said it out loud but I wanted to make it… for you… but whatever. It’s not important. Just… fuck off, don’t look at me like that!” Katsuki moves away with a grumpy pout on his face.
Needless to say, you are five seconds away from crying.
“When… when did you start working on this?” You ask, voice wavering. You won’t cry. You will fucking push through this without a single tear drop. You can do this.
“Six… months ago.” Katsuki’s face is the color of Midoriya’s sneakers and so are his ears. You make a tiny little squeaky noise. “Yes, months before we actually… became a thing, shut the fuck up now and gimme your legs.”
“Fucking marry me, Katsuki. Right now.”
Katsuki can make explosions under water. In case you wondered. They also die right away for obvious reasons and something bubbles up to the surface, so it ends up looking like he just farted underwater. It’s quite hilarious.
“We need to live together for at least a few months before we marry to make sure we can share a space without killing each each other.” Katsuki says like he’s reading it from the news paper. He grabs your leg under the water and yanks it up aggressively; you yelp and laugh at the same time when he rubs your skin with the same aggression; finally, Katsuki feels more like himself.
“Did you Google that before?” You giggle as he swaps your legs over. Katsuki only grunts, his cute little ears on fire.
“Fuck off. You look really nice from this point of view by the way.” Katsuki gives you the biggest shit eating grin when his words finally sink in; he clearly enjoys your misery as his grin grows bigger and bigger as he crawls over you, his hands on the rim of the bath tub.
This might be a really inappropriate thought when you can’t even move your arms properly but Bakugou Katsuki is the definition of sexiness as the water drips down on his abs, the droplets cold on your shoulders when they plop on your skin. Hell, you wouldn’t even think twice about pushing him back into the water and crawl all l over him if you wouldn’t be in this condition.
Hm, maybe this water needs to be cooled down a bit. It’s way too hot in here.
You do your best to move your arm and touch his sides at least; you crave the feeling of him, you crave it so much it actually hurts but maybe that’s just the fatigue; your hand finds the hem of his underwear at his back and you decide to try your luck; you slowly pull down the fabric, making sure you don’t touch anything too inappropriate and keep an eye contact the whole time. Katsuki’s eyes darken for a moment, his chest rigid and unmoving as though he forgot how to breathe; he bites his lips and takes another deep breath, his body slowly moving away from you to sit back to his original place. Okay, that was too much. Roger that. Let’s take a deep breath; you definitely need it.
If you thought Katsuki can’t surprise you any more, well… you were wrong; he removes his underwear under the water in one swift move, and throws it on the floor.
“You happy now?” He moves towards you to give you a chaste kiss on the lips, then another, and another.
“Are you?” You retort, genuinely confused by the sudden change in Katsuki’s behavior. Is he really okay with this? Are you okay with this?! Why does it feel so natural? Alright, it definitely does not feel natural as your heart is about to explode and run away to Narnia through Katsuki’s bathroom cupboard but…
“I think I like sharing a bath with you. I want to do this every fucking day.” Katsuki grins. He looks so happy and content in this position, cuddling into you from the side… you feel the urge to tangle your legs together but you try your best not to act on that urge; there is no way you can avoid touching his private parts in that position.
Not like you would mind…
Oh damn.
You need to take another deep breath then drink a lot of water when you get out. You seem to be a bit thirsty.
“Okay, let me wash myself and let’s get out before I combust.” Katsuki grumbles as he pours a bunch of shower gel on the puff again.
“Can I not help?” You pout at the blonde.
“Maybe tomorrow.” He WINKS and finishes as quick as it’s humanly possible while you gawk at him with mouth half open.
Yes. This man will certainly be the death of you.
… next chapter!
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Potato ramble:
- Sorry for the long wait, I swear I’m trying 😭 My new work schedule is kicking me in the ass. Hopefully, I’ll get used to it eventually, I’m already making some progress!
- I hope you liked this chapter, I had this idea in my head for ages and I couldn’t wait to finally write it down! I love this version of Katsuki so much.
Likes, comments and reblogs are more than appreciated! Send me your thoughts about the chapter in the comments 💜💥
TL:
@sixxze @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @hanatsuki-hime @cloroxisadelectabletreat @cheesenmax @coffeent @smolsleepybat @therealpotatobish @qardasngan @canarystwin @unofficialmuilover @nanamomo1 @mikestuffffs
190 notes · View notes
florenceafternoon · 5 months
Text
━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━
These fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.
For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.
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I ain’t missing you at all  (requires an ao3 account) by @blitheringmcgonagall
Set post first wizarding war. "Lily Evans disappeared just when the war with Voldemort ended. Nobody knows why she left. James Potter doesn't care. He hasn't missed her at all."
It reads like a character study. All of the repressed emotions are so well-portrayed that I could picture all their facial expressions and body language. The dynamic between Lily and the marauders really illustrated how she wasn't just James' girlfriend - she was their friend too. I just wanted to give them all a hug.
Up In Arms by @mppmaraudergirl
When Lily jokingly tells her owl to deliver a letter to "the love of her life", i.e. Marlene McKinnon, her owl misinterprets the directive and, to her horror, her ode to James Potter’s arms lands squarely in his lap.
The banter in this one is so good that it made my friend fall back in love with jily's dynamic and read fics again
Evergreen and Pine by @tinyluminaryzombie
Lily Evans is stuck in a closet with Sirius. All Sirius wants to talk about is exactly what she's trying not to think about: James Potter.
Or: A seven minutes in heaven that's more like seven minutes of sweet sweet interegation ft. Lily and Sirius.
Smoke Gets In Your Eyes by @jfleamont
Lily's an overthinker, but fear not, James knows exactly what to say to cheer her up.
Because Lily being a stress smoker is canon (to me)
All The Things I Would Do also by @/ jfleamont
Lily can't stop thinking about James' hands.
Anything Leda writes is great so do yourself a favour and go read her works
I’ve Got My Hate to Keep Me Warm by @dizzy–bird
When a mission for the Order goes badly wrong, Lily Evans must spend the holidays lying low in the middle of nowhere. The rules: no magic, no visitors, and absolutely no Christmas cheer.
And the kicker? She’s sharing the safe house with Order darling – and rival – James Potter, who just happens to be the reason she’s in this mess in the first place.
Kat's poem from 10 Things I Hate About You
Hemispheres by @ohmygodshesinsane
James Potter and Lily Evans have set aside their schoolyard animosities for the sake of the Order of the Phoenix, but when they are enlisted to race Lord Voldemort across the world to prevent him from corrupting the very nature of death, tensions run high. In all manners.
Lily's characterisation in this one is so good
No One Knows Us by @annasghosts
As Fifth Year begins, Lily Evans is certain of a few things: she’s proud to be a Muggle-born witch, despite what Petunia might think; Severus Snape is still a loyal friend and whatever confusing feelings she has as she watches James Potter strut around the castle must be squashed because he’s nothing, but an arrogant toerag.
In which Lily gets the dynamic character treatment that she deserves.
51 Minutes to Change Your Mind by @sosohh
When Muggle-Born Oliver Wood becomes an extremely successful cyclist for the British Cycling team, both muggle and magical ministries have to come up with a plan to make sure all is fair. Enter James Potter and Lily Evans.
The Art of Self-Defense by cgner (on ao3)
Gilmore Girls AU in which "after seventeen years of single parenting, she now has to manage a persistent James, nosy villagers, and a son who's all too interested in joining the Order."
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